The Glass Gargoyle (The Lost Ancients Book 1) by Marie Andreas Read Free Book Online

still trying to figure out how to do that very thing.
    Dusk must have fallen by now, but I couldn’t tell from my windowless tomb. Severe lack of nourishment had forced me to swallow one of the military rations. I tried to ignore the fact that the glorious kingdom of Lindor hadn’t been at war with anyone for over ten years. Problem was, they’d planned for a much larger and longer battle with our rather peaceful neighbors to the west, but they didn’t want to play. The entire country surrendered in less than a month. Leaving us with stockpiles of useless war spells, weapons, and rations. Although it wouldn’t be too far off to classify the rations as weapons as well.
    However, I had been exploring my prison while I’d been trapped. I prowled through Alric’s back room as if it were a prize dig. I carefully sorted items, noting in my head the exact location where I found them. As I worked my way through the small room, more mysteries appeared concerning my green-eyed adversary.
    The clothes weren’t his.
    I pulled up clothes randomly. Wherever the clothing had come from they were in the same condition. Shabby but clean, and in random sizes ranging from children to dregs at least five times as wide as Alric.
    So he had a stash of military rations and a bunch of clothing that he’d found or picked up even though he wouldn’t be able to use most of it. This man was just begging me to pry into his life.
    Thoughts kept bouncing around my brain—who or what was Alric? Were these the castoffs of his victims? A brief shudder twitched through my shoulder blades. A serial killer who kept his victims’ clothing? And one who washed it? Sadly that wouldn’t make him the most perverse killer in Lindor.
    But even though our meetings had been mercifully short so far, Alric just didn’t strike me as the slaughtering of innocents type. Mysterious? Yes. Dangerous? Hell yes, on numerous levels. Sociopath? Probably not.
    Which left me back with the clothes. Lots of clothes. I rocked back on my heels and pushed a few more pieces of clothing out of the way to widen my search area. Aside from the odd infestation of clean clothing, the floor was immaculate.
    When I’d first moved to Beccia I’d had to live in the tenements for a few months until my credentials came in and I could start digging. I knew for a fact this floor hadn’t looked this good since being built 200 years ago.
    What kind of freak moved into the crappiest part of town, cleaned the sty immaculately, then filled it with useless crap? I was going to have to get Alric back for knocking me out and leaving me here, but I was going to make sure I got some answers out of that pretty mouth first.
    My head began to pound. I’d like to blame it on the love tap Alric gave me earlier, but he really hadn’t hit me that hard. My head had been scrambled worse in turf fights in the ruins. So, on top of being a skilled fighter, he knew how to control how much force he used.
    My head pounded more. The last thing I needed in my life was someone like Alric and his twisted lifestyle. Besides, aside from my professional interest in the artifacts I found, I didn’t like mysteries or mysterious men. All I wanted in life was a good dig, interesting finds, and good money to spend at the Shimmering Dewdrop. The laughter in my head at my unspoken affirmation sounded suspiciously like Covey.
    Even though he was the last and worst thing I could think about, my thoughts continued to drift back to Alric. And not just because of his looks, although that was a face and body to dwell on.
    The problem was that he reminded me of a new artifact. One with enough features to be familiar, but with enough new components to make him rare and unknown.
    I felt an overwhelming urge to catalogue him.
    After I pounded him, of course. He was the better fighter, so I’d have to cheat. The faeries would come in handy for that. Good-looking mystery men weren’t excused when they committed acts of battery and