His mouth turned. “Get away from me, bitch.” The gargoyle made a shrill noise of affront and shoved the man. He tumbled onto his bottom, dropping his inkwells, which shattered on the cobbled street. Ink pooling beneath him, the man struggled to his feet, shouting profanity so decorative I didn’t know what half of it meant, only that he thought me an Omen witch and a whore— Rory leaned down. Cracked him over the jaw with an open palm. “Watch your fucking mouth.”
