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there might be more than just bodies out there.
    Backtracking, she returned to the kitchen table and paced around it twice and then came back to the tracks. None of the attacking monsters could have made tracks like those. But there was one particular stone fellow she’d sat with every day since childhood and his feet were large and ended in talons. If her gargoyle had come alive, he might make such tracks. Her heart lurched at that thought, but it wasn’t in fear. After a brief moment of euphoria, her rational mind told her she probably didn’t want to come face to face with whatever creature was still standing after the battle.
    Occupied by thoughts of escape and what those prints could mean, she jerked at the soft rumble of the water heater as it started up in the laundry room just off the kitchen. She hadn’t at first heard the sounds of someone taking a shower upstairs, but now that she listened she could hear the faint sound of water in the pipes.
    As if it wasn’t bad enough that she was locked in her own home with a bunch of dead bodies laying out back, the gardens reduced to a warzone, her grove violated, and blood and God–knows–what tracked all over her grandmother’s antique carpets, apparently, the last monster standing had come in and made himself at home.
    Lillian frowned and squared her shoulders. She could hide somewhere, whimpering in fear until whatever was in the house found her and dragged her from her hiding place, or she could arm herself and face the threat head–on like her grandmother taught her.
    ****
    With the hilt of her fencing sword a solid reassurance in her hands, she retraced her steps until she came to the living room and the curving stairway which led up to the second floor. Discarded pieces of jewelry and the occasional smudge of blood marked the path the creature had taken. She cleared the stairs and turned down one dark hall. The first bathroom on the second floor was silent and empty. That left one other. She entered her bedroom intent on her master bathroom.
    The door was ajar, a curl of steam drifted out across the floor. Inside, the bathroom was dark and so full of steam she couldn’t see anything. The monster didn’t know how to turn on a light switch, but it could figure out a shower? She pondered that a moment. Perhaps it didn’t need light. Just her luck, the damned monster probably had night vision. She eased into a defensive stance as she reached in and flicked on the light. The room was flooded with yellow light and her breath caught. Her sword’s tip clanked against the tiled floor in her shock. She jerked it back up into position until the point hovered at shoulder level.
    Her rational mind had expected to find a monster, and there was one. He filled her walk–in shower, and the massive shower still wasn’t big enough for the entire gargoyle. His wings arched across the length and width of the large bathroom and his tail sent water droplets spraying across the room as it lashed back and forth, its blade–tipped end twitching like an agitated cat’s.
    One wing arched back and gave her a view of the rest of the gargoyle. His head brushed the ceiling and his horns clinked against the small tiles when he moved. With eyes partially squeezed shut against the sudden intrusion of bright light, he turned his muzzle in her direction and flared his nostrils, drawing in a deep breath. She had the distinct impression he tasted the air, and by the way he snorted like a horse and shook his head, she didn’t think he liked the smell.
    When his muzzle dipped down, his eyes locked on the sword she held, and he turned fully toward her. At least with him eying the sword so intently, he might not notice the vivid shade of scarlet she’d just turned. Had there been any doubt in her mind about his gender, it vanished in a heartbeat. Male. Lacking in modesty.
    He had muscles most men would envy. Then she reminded herself he also had a tail, wings, horns, and talons. Still, even