“They’re definitely St. Sophia’s appropriate,” I murmured, “but they aren’t exactly pretty.”

Okay, maybe I imagined it. Maybe I was tired, or the run-in with Sebastian had finally scrambled my brain.

But just as the words were out of my mouth, and before I’d taken another step forward, the gargoyle on the right-hand corner of the building tilted its head and stared down at me with an expression that was none too amused.

Frankly, he looked a little irritated.

My jaw dropped. I wasn’t sure if I was more surprised that he’d moved—or that he’d been offended because I didn’t think he was pretty.

“Sorry,” I mouthed back.

Within the blink of an eye, he reassumed his position, and looked just the same as he had a moment ago.

Surely I hadn’t just imagined that?

On the other hand, I thought, walking toward the door again, stranger things had happened.

It was St. Sophia’s, after all.