The Wild Road by Marjorie M. Liu

in horror.
    “I’m sure,” he said.
    “Then we need to find out what connects her to the victim. And what happened in that hotel room. You mentioned smoke, right? I’ll look for mentions of fire in the news and see if we can pin down the location.” Charlie hesitated. “How are you handling this? You know, such close quarters?”
    “Fine,” Lannes replied.
    “Because you haven’t been around anyone but us and Frederick in a year.”
    “I’m fine,” Lannes said again.
    Charlie hesitated. “Is she cute?”
    Lannes almost hung up. “She’s fine.”
    “ ‘Fine,’” said his brother. “That could mean a lot of things.”
    A lot. A great deal more than Lannes wished to talk about. But he stayed silent too long-too long for someone as perceptive as Charlie-and his brother very softly said, “Ah.”
    “Stop it,” Lannes told him. “Mind your own business.”
    “Fine.” He sounded far too mild. “Just… be careful.”
    “There’s nothing to be careful about. I don’t know the woman. And she certainly doesn’t know me.”
    “That can be less of a barrier than you think.”
    Lannes gritted his teeth. “Just say it. You think I’ll be played as a fool.”
    “If you fall, we all fall,” Charlie said.
    Not something he could stand to hear. “I’m going now. Call when you know something.”
    His brother very reluctantly said he would. Told him to lie low. Hide the car. And that was that.
    Lannes did not, however, return to the motel room-nor did he move the car to a less visible location. He sat, staring out the windshield at the battered door, the closed curtains, and thought about the woman sleeping inside.
    He had touched her. He had held her. He had fought for her. And he had not been afraid. No thought of witches and stone, no feeling of the walls closing in. His only thought had been for the woman. Even now he was thinking of her, knowing she was close. He could sense her presence, however small, inside his mind.
    That scared him. It also thrilled him in ways he could not explain. She made him feel strong. Gave him no choice but to be strong. Lannes might have been sleepwalking until now, the feeling was so raw, as though something was waking in his blood: genetic, primal, an imperative too long suppressed. It was simple, that desire. Easy as breathing. He wanted to protect the woman. He needed to protect her. A desire that went beyond his earlier, more intellectual excuses for involving himself in her welfare.
    It was in a gargoyle’s nature to protect, even if their kind had been forced to adapt to different lifestyles. It was safer now to ignore suffering and turn a blind eye, to exist in hiding away from others, relying on magic, subterfuge. The instinct to protect had become a liability, sternly repressed. Lannes had not realized quite how sternly, until now, and he felt as though he was committing some crime, as though his desire was somehow against his species. To protect this woman, to give her what she needed, meant putting himself at risk-his body, his secrets. This was something that had been at the back of his mind from the beginning, but it suddenly hit him hard, with terrifying clarity. He was jeopardizing the secrets of an entire species.
    Charlie did it. He challenged tradition.
    To save a little girl’s life. A little girl who was now his daughter in every way but blood. A child unafraid of Charlie’s real face, who loved him as he was. Father. Rescuer. Protector.
    Lannes stared down at his hands. Human. They looked normal, were illusions he could never dream to match. He wondered how the woman inside the motel would react if she knew the truth. What would she do?
    Stop. Enough. You have bigger problems. So does she.
    Something had been in her head. He could still feel the tangle of its presence: cold, old, furious. Powerful. Perhaps it was the force that had stolen her memories. It frightened Lannes. Taking over minds was tricky business. To control a person over a long