Gargoyle Quest Read Online Free PDF

that man?”
    Maxwell didn’t answer, but no words were needed for Artan to picture the man’s smug grin. Artan’s fingers tightened around the balcony railing as his blood began to boil. Making matters worse, Maxwell and the woman he’d been chatting with stepped onto the balcony. The man was polished and expensively dressed, a sharp contrast to the barbarian biker look that Artan had adopted. Maxwell flashed him a false smile, but although the woman he was with seemed embarrassed, he seemed unfazed to confront the subject of his gossip. Perhaps if he’d been aware that the former king had heard every foul word uttered behind his back, Maxwell might have greeted him differently. In his mind’s eye, Artan saw himself grabbing the pompous prick and tossing him over the balcony without a trace of hesitation. The shadow of his gargoyle self was definitely rearing its ugly head.  
    “Great night, isn’t it?” Maxwell said in a plastic voice.
    Artan glowered at the man, marveling at his double-sided nature.  
    Maxwell, apparently unnerved by Artan’s silence, babbled on. “So where’s that accent from? It’s Russian, right? We’ve got a bet going at the museum.” Met with continued silence, he said, “You must be doing something right, buddy, because Rhianna can’t stop talking about you—”
    Artan, his voice icy, dripping menace, said, “Might be my Eurotrash himbo charm.”
    The man paled and took a step back. Artan was sure he didn’t look like some romance cover model any longer. His rippling physique wasn’t the result of some gym membership and diet fad: his muscles had been sculpted by life-and-death battles, and these modern clothes did little to disguise them.  
    Maxwell swallowed hard.  
    Artan eyed him for a beat longer and then headed back into the apartment. He had to leave, had to get away from these people with their petty gossip and false friendliness. He found Rhianna in the crowd of fellow museum workers, but she was deeply engaged in conversation. Seeing his beloved relaxed him but also triggered an unexpected wave of sadness. In some ways, this latest emotion was more disconcerting than even his anger. A vast gulf separated him from her, and for the first time he wondered if their connection could bridge the widening gap. Why hadn’t he noticed this earlier? What could an ancient king without a kingdom offer a bright young woman of this century?
    As these thoughts cycled through his head, he saw one of her co-workers squeeze her arm as they shared a laugh. Something snapped inside of Artan. He knew he had to leave now before he did something he might regret. Without saying goodbye, he stormed out of the apartment and surged down the six flights of stairs leading to the streets below. He welcomed the cool night air as he emerged from the building and crossed the street into nearby Central Park.  
    A jogger and young couple cut a wide berth around him the moment they spotted him, instinctively fearful of his hostile energy. He moved deeper into the dimly lit sections of the park, the vegetation thickening around him. Truth be told, he was itching for a fight and was hoping some mugger might be foolish enough to prey upon him. Violence promised a momentary release from the dark emotions building inside of him. He was unarmed, but he wasn’t worried about his safety. After battling demons and wizards, street hoods didn’t faze him. Unfortunately for him—but fortunate for them—the shady characters avoided him, too.
    The deeper he edged into the park, the more the effects of the alcohol began to wear off. Looking back with a sober mind, he’d overreacted back at the party. Who cared about some jealous asshole mouthing off? He should not have left Rhianna like that. By now she must’ve realized he was gone. If he continued to let his fears and frustrations rule his actions, he risked losing the one good thing in his life.
    He was about to turn back when he paused, growing