Gargoyle's Mate (2 page)

***

Lorn ignored the voluptuous catering assistant as she made what had to be her twentieth pass in front of him. Normally, he would have found her obvious flirtation amusing, but tonight he was on a mission. He’d followed various literary works on gargoyle mythology over the centuries hoping somewhere a scholar might accidentally stumble across something his kind had overlooked. Fledglings were the missing variable. The question remained did they still exist?

From across the room his eyes zoomed in on the young woman whose recent research on gargoyle origins had fascinated him above any others. She looked even more beautiful in person than the picture his private investigator had supplied. He’d expected to find a studious face framed by overly large glasses, complete with a severe bun or some other form of disguise modern day career women used to downplay their looks. Instead, he discovered a woman who could just as easily have given any beauty pageant contestant a run for her money.

The photo he had was taken while she chatted with a group of students in a coffeehouse. Oblivious to the photographer, the woman had been caught laughing over something said, her dark eyes rounded in surprise, teeth gleaming, while her hand clutched her chest. Unlike tonight, her thick shoulder length hair had framed her face, its dark tresses gleaming in the light. Lorn was surprised at the primal way his body responded to her picture. The more he studied her image the more aroused he’d become until finally he was forced to toss the photo aside. He cursed his own reaction and wondered if the change were closer than he previously suspected. One of Lorn’s brethren chronicled his symptoms leading up to the consumption. The Protector had written how his sexual urges increased towards the end; his needs seemed to be the only thing providing an emotional connection with humanity. He’d clung to those primal desires until the end.

Now standing in the bustling conference room Lorn found his cock stiffening again as it had when he first saw the photo of Dr. Fatima Smith. His gaze followed her every movement. The compulsion to watch her was unnerving. She’d talked with various participants in the conference but one stood out as being a tad too familiar. Lorn found himself gnashing his teeth in an effort to keep his incisors from lengthening. Who was the man and why had he touched her with so much familiarity, but more importantly, why did it bother Lorn so much?

***

In spite of Gordy’s overprotective behavior, Fatima found herself enjoying the speakers who presented before her. The event was like a dream come true, sharing her research with a group of respected colleagues and aspiring students.

“…presenting her work tonight on Gargoyles in Antiquity, please join me in welcoming a woman we will be hearing a lot more from in the future, Dr. Fatima Smith,” The announcer introduced.

Fatima smiled graciously as she made her way the podium, her published paper on gargoyles secured under her arm like the Holy Grail.

“Good evening. First let me start by thanking you all for your gracious welcome. I am honored to be presenting my paper here tonight,” she began, ignoring the dull ache on her chest. “When we think of gargoyles, images of water spouts or stone figures adorning the cathedral of Notre-Dame immediately come to mind. However, indulge me if you will, in thinking of gargoyles not as statues but living breathing creatures who roamed the earth thousands of years ago. These noble giants lived, mated and built communities having their own form of government and social order. Imagine a world where human females were given to these beings as brides in exchange for protection from enemies, wealth and prosperity. A complete system of interdependence,” she emphasized, intertwining her fingers.

“They were a magnificent race of beings, superior to man in every way, reliant on no one but themselves except for the very continuance of their race.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Now that you have the picture in your minds and can visualize these splendid beings, let’s come back to reality and talk about gargoyles in antiquity.” She smiled at her captured audience, her gaze darting throughout the room until it landed on the well-dressed giant who now sat in the shadows of a corner table as if trying to remain inconspicuous.

Fat chance
, she thought to herself. Everything about the man called attention to him; his size; the natural power and confidence spilling off him. She certainly had a hard time looking away. The throbbing on her chest intensified.

Fatima concluded her presentation by inviting others to take another look at gargoyles and their influence in mythology. There were a few seconds of silence before the deafening thunder of applause filled the room. Curious to see if the giant had the same reaction, she looked eagerly to the table he occupied. Disappointment set in when she realized he’d already gone.

***

Exhausted, Fatima was eager to return to her hotel room for a quiet evening. She looked forward to a long soak in the tub and a bit of white noise plugged into her ears for added relaxation. What better way to end an event-filled day?

“You can’t be serious?” Gordy asked incredulously after being informed of her plans.

“As a heart attack. I’m not much of a night owl anyway.”

“But I’ve already promised some of the other UC professors we would join them for a nightcap.”

“Then you should’ve checked with me first.” She tried to hide her annoyance.

“I just assumed you’d want to celebrate your success.”

If he’d known her at all he would have realized she wasn’t a praise seeker, had never needed the added attention. Just the idea of spending an evening being congratulated on a job well done was enough to have her running scared.

“You go ahead,” she urged. “Trust me. I wouldn’t be good company anyway.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged nonchalantly, although his body language spoke volumes.

Fatima shook her head at his retreating back, not feeling the smallest bit of remorse for shooting down his high-handed assumption. On a sigh she turned, wanting to make her exit before anyone else got the notion to stop her.

She barely had a chance to register the dull ache again before she slammed into the hard surface of a wall. A warm wall, she thought as she raised her hands to push away from the obstruction which hadn’t been there a moment ago. A column of red buttons stared back at her. Gradually she regained her composure as her gaze traveled upward and further still until she was looking at a chin chiseled from granite.

“Oh.” The sound escaped as long, strong fingers easily encircled her wrists. “I’m sorry.” She managed to take a half step back, which was as far as the giant permitted.

“You!” came out in a croak as she took in the traffic-stopping face of the man she’d been drawn to earlier. Her heart skipped a beat. Never had she seen a person so perfectly put together. To describe him as handsome would be an understatement. Up close he was breathtaking, she mused. His full arrogant mouth set in a firm line as he quietly considered her. Fatima continued her assessment, swallowing a second gasp when she reached eyes the color of a rain forest after a fresh downpour. He had a Marlboro-Man-meets-Hercules quality about him. He was rugged without looking hardened and possessed the presence of someone accustomed to getting what he wanted. Right now all of his attention was directed at her.

“Do you know me?” He peered through the questioning emerald pools.

“Yes…I mean no,” she answered breathlessly. “I- I noticed you earlier.”

“You mean when you were staring at me across the room.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it staring,” she babbled, embarrassed she’d been so obvious. “It’s just I didn’t remember seeing you at any of the previous events.”

At his silence she rationalized, “And you do stand out. I shouldn’t have said that,” her apology came out half muttered. What if he were self-conscious about his height? She’d always hated being the tallest girl in school and people loved to draw attention to it. She searched his face for any uneasiness but found nothing. The throbbing on her chest intensified feeling as if it was spreading through her entire body.

“Excuse me. It’s late and I’ve had a very busy day.” She made a futile attempt to be free of his hold.

“The night has just begun.” From him it sounded like a promise, an invitation of spectacular things to come. She was being foolish, she knew, but his lightly accented words conjured images best left for the privacy of her room.

“I was fascinated by your presentation.” He switched gears, pulling her thoughts away from the naughty direction they’d deviated to momentarily.

“Fascinated?”

“Yes, your theories on human and gargoyle dynamics.” He answered easy enough, but there was something more in his eyes. Wow, those eyes! Perhaps emerald wasn’t the correct description for the odd coloring.

“Oh?” She smiled nervously, wanting to sever the contact he maintained. Maybe then she could get her pulsing body under control. “It was more for theatrical effect than fact. There really is no basis for the supposition of humans and gargoyles mating, especially since the latter doesn’t really exist.”

Except in those oh so erotic dreams which had plagued her for years. She’d never confided in anyone about her subconscious fantasies with one of the fierce looking creatures. The delicious things he did to her body had her climaxing so hard at night, in the morning there was no denying the evidence of her sinfully erotic dreams.

“And what if I told you there is validity to your hypothesis?”

“Well then there is some oceanfront property in Kentucky I’d like to sell you,” she responded lightly, despite the fact he maintained a hold on her and there didn’t appear to be a modicum of amusement in his eyes.

This man couldn’t really believe in the existence of gargoyles. Could he? Fatima had heard women complain about the really handsome ones being defective. She supposed he couldn’t be endowed with good looks, a perfect physique and sanity too. What a waste.

“What if I were able to provide you with evidence to support this?” He asked, finally releasing her wrists as if realizing he no longer needed the physical restraint.

“And where would this documentation be?” she humored, feeling a momentary sense of loss.

“Stored in my family’s vaults,” he replied with an unwavering stare.

Right and my great aunt Maybel happens to be a vampir
e,
her inner voice jeered.

“You know alleged proof like your suggesting would undergo a grueling authentication process?”

He didn’t flinch. “Of course.”

“Let’s just make a huge leap into the imaginary and say you have such proof, why is this the first time anyone has ever heard anything about it?”

“Up until recently my family was only interested in the preservation of these materials not publicity.”

“And now you want the world to know about the existence of gargoyles?” The question came out in a disbelieving whisper.

The man was obviously a crackpot. Gargoyles only existed in fables and her fantasies.

“We are interested in an exchange of information.”

“Well, since you’re the only one claiming to have actual documents proclaiming the existence of gargoyles, I’m not sure how much of an exchange anyone could provide.”

“I’m not looking for just anyone. I want you.”

Her heart lurched in her chest.

“We will grant you full access to our materials in exchange for your time and scientific know-how.”

“Look, I’m not sure who you are, but this isn’t funny.” She wanted to walk away but couldn’t will her legs to obey. “Anyone in their right mind with actual evidence could make a fortune. Why seek out an associate professor for this assignment?”

“I already have plenty of money. What I need is information and I believe you’re just the person to help me,” he stated.

“Help you how? If your documents are authentic –“

“I’d also require your services,” he paused before adding, “as a cellular biologist.”

“Cellular biology,” she lowered her voice. “…isn’t my specialty any longer.” She was surprised he knew about that facet of her career. Her work in medical science seemed like a lifetime ago. Today, most people knew her from her work in mythology and folklore, with no idea she’d studied microbiology or possessed an MD.

In her current position she’d tried to keep her Doogie Howser-esque background out of the forefront, only her boss and mentor Dr. Jeff Hansen knew the truth. Prior to accepting her teaching post at the university she’d asked for her work in microbiology to not be listed amongst her credentials. While most would have been proud of an IQ which nearly soared off the charts, Fatima didn’t want the attention her genius status brought her or the reminder of the past and parents she still missed dearly.

“From my understanding you are the best,” the giant continued.

Real life gargoyles. She briefly toyed with the idea. Logic dictated he was off his rocker, while science decreed ‘when you eliminated the impossible, what remained, however improbable, could only be the truth’. What if he weren’t completely crazy; what if what he said were true; what if his documents were indeed genuine? It could only mean one thing.

But those were a lot of ‘what if’s’ and the very idea was…well...ludicrous.

“This is all very fascinating, but I think I’m a little too old to go chasing after real life gargoyles and other creatures that go bump in the night. Goodbye, Mister…” she paused, realizing she didn’t even know his name.

Whoever this guy was, let him go find someone else to pitch crazy to.

“De LaRue, Lorn De LaRue,” he supplied, seeming to sense her dilemma. “And I assure you doctor this will not be our last meeting.”

You wanna bet
, she thought. With her resolve firmly in place Fatima set off for the peace and quiet of her hotel room. Even if it meant calling security, she would be sure she’d had her last conversation with Mr. De LaCrazy. She was grateful when the elevator opened on her floor. Between Gordy and the giant she’d had enough of the male foolishness for one night. Forgoing the long soak she’d craved earlier Fatima opted instead for a quick shower.

Real life gargoyles
.
What
loony bin had he escaped from?
She silently ranted and began pulling clothes from her body, not caring where they fell. Finally free of the fabric, she made her way to the bathroom. The shower’s steady stream pelted her skin in a heated massage which eased away the tension of the day. Still her last conversation with the stranger drummed in her mind. Documents in his family vault indeed. She should have asked him if the family vaults were kept in the east or west wing of chateau De LaCrazy.

“Whatever,” she mumbled. “I don’t have time for this nonsense.” She closed her eyes, succumbing fully to the vibrating spray. Crazy or not, she couldn’t quite shake the vision of him. Lorn De LaRue was one very sexy hunk of maleness. He had an old-world feel about him which conjured up images of duel fights over a woman’s honor. He exuded a suave elegance in spite of his large frame. She’d never been one to go in for the bodybuilder sort but looking at him had her thinking twice. He wasn’t your run of the mill steroid induced type; rather, his body was like a well-honed athlete with muscles begging for a woman’s touch. She was sure what lie beneath his suit wouldn’t disappoint.

Fatima groaned aloud, ashamed her thoughts had digressed so quickly. One moment she was ready to see if the local psyche ward was shy one patient and just as suddenly she was visualizing the same man nude. Flipping off the shower’s steady jets, she quickly made her way through the bathroom, removing her shower cap and grabbing up a towel to pat dry her flushed skin. The feel of the soft cotton material only aided her simmering arousal.

All this just from thinking about a sexy stranger
, her inner voice mocked but it didn’t change her current plight. Now, she regretted having left her favorite vibrator at home, but at the time thought it was just one item she didn’t want showing up on the x-ray of her carry-on suitcase and she certainly didn’t want to have to deal with the hassle of checking, and paying for one piece of luggage. It was a four day trip and should have been a breeze for her usually dormant libido.

Not deterred, she slid across the thick quilt covering the queen-sized bed, moving to its center. She wet two of her fingers in her mouth before letting the moist digits travel down her body while she conjured up the image of the giant named Lorn, again. If she were going to think about the man it might as well be for her own satisfaction.