Page 5 of Petrified

Gerald leans forward. “How clearly could you separate the two signatures?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Clearly enough to know they’re merging. If you’re about to turn this into one of your little Chameleon exercises, save it. I’m trying to catch a gargoyle, not earn a gold star.”

Gerald’s mouth twitches. “I’m asking because your ability to distinguish them may matter.”

“Then ask what I found. Don’t start assigning homework.”

Amand’s hand closes loosely around my knee beneath the desk, probably because he can feel me getting irritated. Gerald doesn’t seem bothered by it. If anything, he looks more interested.

“Can you still isolate Medusa’s signature?”

“Yes. Barely.” I shift in the chair and glance at Rowan behind me. “That’s the useful part. The part where you start wondering whether I can copy it is where this conversation gets weird.”

Gerald pauses. “You anticipated the question.”

“You’re not subtle.”

He leans back slightly. “Could you?”

I give him a flat look. “Could I what?”

“Copy one without the other.”

“And there it is.” I drag a hand over my face. “No idea. Also not volunteering to shove myself nose-first into a homicidal gargoyle just so you can find out.”

Gerald tilts his head, studying me silently for several moments. “And once the petrification was complete, could you tell which signature was controlling it?”

I stare at him for a second. “Do you keep a list of questions designed to make me feel like I’m failing an exam I didn’t know I signed up for?”

“This is how we learn what you can perceive.”

That sounds annoyingly reasonable, which is Gerald’s favorite kind of irritating. “I don’t know which one was controlling it. I could smell both, but the gargoyle was stronger than he should’ve been.”

Gerald nods once, then glances down at the file in front of him. “Then the question isn’t whether you can copy one without the other. It’s whether you could hold one steady while the other is changing.”

I narrow my eyes. “That sounds suspiciously like the same homework wearing a different hat.”

Amand’s hand stays on my knee while Rowan shifts behind me. Gerald ignores both of them. “You’ve mimicked fixed signatures before. This one is adapting in real time. If you were close enough to the source, could you keep the gargoyle’s signature separate while Medusa’s continued bleeding into it?”

I sit with that for a second, because irritatingly, it is different. Copying something already blended is one thing. Holding onto one piece while the other keeps changing sounds like exactly the kind of nonsense my designation would decide to spring on me at the worst possible moment.

“I don’t know,” I say finally. “I’ve never tried.”

“You should.”

Rowan moves before I can decide whether I want to argue with that. His hand slides from my shoulder to my upper arm and pulls me backward hard enough that I make an offended sound, but the complaint dies when my back hits his chest and his other arm wraps around my stomach. His magic rolls over mine, and every bit of resistance drains out of me before I can pretend I had any.

I settle against him with an annoyed little huff while Amand’s hand moves to my thigh, leaving me pinned between both of them in a way my body likes far too much. “You know I was sitting perfectly fine on my own.”

Rowan lowers his mouth near my temple without answering, his arm tightening across my middle. The movement sends another warm pulse through me, and I decide being kidnapped six inches backward probably isn’t worth fighting over.

Gerald watches us for a moment before laughing, his gaze dropping to Rowan’s arm around my waist. “Possessive little snake, isn’t he?”

Rowan only pulls me closer.

I let my head fall back against his shoulder and look at Gerald from inside the cage of my mate’s arms. Whatever weird Chameleon homework he wants me doing can wait until I’m no longer being held against several hundred pounds of Basilisk who has apparently decided the meeting is over.

For once, I’m smart enough not to argue.