12
HUDSON
I wasn’t one of them twisted fuckers who got off on pain, but when I finally regained consciousness? God damn, was I ever wishing for it.
Pain woulda meant I was still alive. Pain woulda meant my muscles and nerves still worked, and if they still worked, maybe I still had a chance at saving my girl.
But right now, there was only darkness and silence and a cold, empty ache where my heart should’ve been. My entire body was locked in my stone form, but it wasn’t by choice. I couldn’t shift into my warrior or human form, couldn’t sense all the things I should’ve been able to sense as a gargoyle—where the f**k I was, for starters.
It meant one of two things.
I was either dead…
Or Marco’s sunshine bullets were working some seriously dark mojo, keeping me locked up and helpless,
