When a Gargoyle Awakens (11 page)

Lara gave him a shrewd look.  Yes, that was the problem.  She didn’t want him to be fine on his own.  “I like it here,” she said, almost through gritted teeth.  “I like this house; I can imagine living here.”

Andrew looked at her doubtfully.  “You said you hated the quiet.  You said that anyone who lives outside of a city is a heathen.”

“Well, I’ve changed my mind,” snapped Lara.

“Don’t you miss your… uh, job?”  He almost said friends, but Lara didn’t seem to have any friends.  She had Holling, and he seemed to have employees, all of them were sleek and cold like him.  That was it.

“My place is with you,” she replied, with grating sweetness.

He suppressed a sigh and wondered where the heck Holling was.  Lara seemed to be more manageable whenever Holling was around.  It had bugged the hell out of him when they first got together.  Holling had hung around like a bad smell and Andrew had found it nigh on impossible to get some alone time with Lara.  But he had come to accept their relationship and accepted Holling as he would a pet Chihuahua.  He was just something Lara had with her all the time.  In fact, Andrew preferred it when Holling was around – at least he had someone to talk to.  At first he had worried that their relationship was sexual.  Now… he wasn’t that sure he cared.

Dealing with Lara was becoming tedious.  It had been alright at first.  He had been enamored with this goddess of a woman, and he had happily lavished her with plenty of gifts, and the sex wasn’t bad. It wasn’t great – but it wasn’t bad.  But, he was just bored with her.  And unless he was very mistaken, she was bored of him, too.  It had been easy to ignore in New York.  But, living here in such close quarters was difficult.  In the city, they had separate apartments.  But here, he had to give her an explanation whenever he left the house.  It was like being in a very cushy prison – but a prison nonetheless.  Plus, he was starting to worry over just how groggy he was all the time.  He had some sleeping pills from a while back when a DJ was living next door to him.  He took them everywhere just in case, and he could have sworn that the bottle was getting lighter.

“What did you do today?” she asked with an exaggerated sigh.

He sighed, too.  “Not much,” he admitted.  Felt good, too.  His company was sound, and his employees could run it.  It felt nice just to relax.  He had spent the morning just walking around town.  He was actually quite interested in the town’s history and in the afternoon he found a very amiable tour guide in the pixie-like shape of Maggie who ran The Witch’s Brew.  He smiled as he thought of her trying to recreate the hanging at the tree using her sweater.  It wasn’t altogether successful, but she made some very spirited gurgling noises.

“Well, whatever you did, it appears you enjoyed it,” she said, accusingly.

“Have you found Gustave yet?” he demanded, irritably.  Anyone would think that being happy was an offense with Lara.  But then, he had to admit that he had rarely seen her smile.  Maggie was always smiling.  In spite of her goth appearance, he doubted he’d ever met someone who was so happy.  Lara certainly wasn’t smiling now.  “The lawyer’s been asking again,” he persisted.  “My uncle bequeathed a substantial sum to Gustave and the lawyers want to sort it out.”

Lara walked over to the window and stared at the garden.  She once told him she could never see the point in them.  If she had her way, she’d just burn the thing to the ground.  He knew that for a fact, because she had been hinting about doing just that.  It had been a firm no from him.

“No, Holling’s still looking,” she said, eventually.

Holling apparently ran some kind of security agency but was very sketchy about the details.  Lara was adamant that he would find Gustave, but Andrew wasn’t convinced.  “I don’t see what’s taking so long; I really don’t.  Gustave has to be in his late fifties, or early sixties – he can’t have that many family members.”

Lara spun to face him with her stubborn look, which was very similar to her normal look.  “Do you really think it’s fair that he gets all that money from your uncle?  They weren't even related.”

“Well, they were friends for years,” he said, reasonably.  “I’d be surprised if the old man hadn’t left him anything.”

“But it’s your family’s money.”  She all but stamped her foot.  This was not a new argument.

“Well, not really,” argued Andrew, wearily.  “The Hardcastle’s had no money.  Uncle Edwin made his own fortune.  Any money I had growing up came from my mother.”  And was soon squandered by his father, he added, silently.

“But you’re his heir!”

He chuckled, and her eyes blazed.  “More like the only living family member left.  To be honest, I’m just grateful to him that he didn’t leave everything to Gustave.  I wouldn’t have been surprised if he had.”

Lara scowled out the window.  He could only see the back of her head, but he could tell that it was a scowling type of moment.  A few months ago, he might have tried to soothe her.  Now, he couldn’t really be bothered.  If she wanted to have a temper tantrum, he was happy to let her.

“Look, Lara,” he said, firmly.  “I really think you would be happier if you went back to New York.”

He prepared himself, ready to jump behind the couch if she threw something at him.  Ready to roll his eyes and tell her it wasn’t true if she dredged up some tears and accused him of not loving her anymore.  But then she did something he wasn’t expecting.  She turned and gave him a sultry smile.  He almost dropped his glass in surprise.

“Honey, let’s not argue,” she purred.

Andrew gulped as she dropped to the floor and crawled over to him settling between his legs.  “I bet I can think of much more interesting things to talk about.”

Lara walked her fingers up his legs and expertly teased his belt and pants open.  He cursed himself, but he could feel himself stirring at her clumsy seduction.  “Like our wedding…”

She shuffled his pants and underwear down his legs and took hold of his manhood in her hands, squeezing and caressing him.  He should stop her, he really should.

“You still want me, don’t you?” she asked coquettishly before descending on him and kissing the quivering tip.

“Yes,” he groaned in a garbled voice.  Okay, he was weak.  He admitted it, freely.

“Good, so let’s not have any more talk about me going back to New York.”  She licked his length, and he shuddered beneath her.  “No more talk about Gustave.  Let’s talk about your collection of antiques…”

Chapter Seventeen

Kylie stood on the steps outside of her apartment, wringing her hands.  It had been thirty minutes since sundown, and she had been popping in and out of her front door to try and spot Luc every five minutes.  The first few times she spied Gary across the road watching her, so she pretended that she was stretching before exercising.  It was an excuse that really wouldn’t hold up, so she was mightily relieved when he left. 

Luc told her he would be with her as soon as possible after sundown.  She was starting to get nervous.  What if Andrew had discovered him and called the FBI or something to take him away.  Holy frijole – they could be dissecting him at that very moment!  Or what if some hunters saw him flying and thought he was a massive bird and decided to shoot him down.  Not that they got hunters in their town.  Only people hunting cream teas and antiques.  Or what if he met another woman who was much more accepting of him and less frightened?  Why did the last option seem like the worst one?

She withheld her yelp and merely jumped a foot in the air as Luc landed on the step below her.  He reached out one massive arm and slipped it around her waist, steadying her.

He looked down at her with concern, his hard features softening slightly.  Even though he was on the step below her, he still towered over her.  His massive bulk was at the same time alarming and comforting.  “Did I frighten you?”

“No!” she replied, quickly.  “Well, no more than if anyone had shouted boo at me for fun anyway.”

Luc frowned.  “Why would anyone wish to scare you for fun?”

“It’s a human thing,” she said, dismissively.  “Maybe you should come inside before someone sees you.”

He looked troubled.  “If it is your reputation or your virtue that you fear then I must reassure you.  You are safe with me; I would not take advantage of you, little one.”

Kylie blinked at him.  She had some weird, mixed feelings about that.  “My reputation and virtue are… fine.  I was more worried about your safety.  Come inside.”

She watched as he squeezed himself through the doorway.  They had decided to meet at her apartment because it was the easier option than Kylie trying to get into the garden, and would be more private.  Of course, she hadn’t considered the logistics of getting a seven-foot gargoyle through the door.  She had enough trouble getting her mattress through.  But thankfully, he was somewhat more flexible.

Hurriedly, she moved as much furniture out of his way as possible.  She didn’t have much, but then the apartment was only small.  It had an open living room and kitchen that Kylie used a folding screen to separate.  Then there was a small bedroom where the bed touched two walls, and a minuscule bathroom where you had to stand in the shower to shut the door.

When Luc had managed to maneuver inside, and Kylie had managed to shut the door, only getting hit in the face twice by his wings, she ushered him into the living room.  Which was just a small step from the door.

“Sorry, it’s a bit small,” she said, wringing her hands.

He gave her a genuine smile, and heat blossomed on her cheeks.  “You should not apologize, your home seems very comfortable, and I am honored that you would invite me in.”

Kylie moved a large footrest into the middle of the room, and Luc carefully sat down.  She tried not to stare as his muscles bunched and flexed.  And she definitely tried not to focus on the fact that save for a loincloth he was completely naked.  Well, it might not matter anyway.  Did gargoyles even have man parts?  Did they have sex in the same way?  Jiminy, her thoughts were turning lewd.

She turned her back to him and puttered in the kitchen.  “Can I get you a drink?” she called over her shoulder.

“I would be grateful for water, thank you.”

As she passed him the glass, she saw that he was eyeing her flamingo cushions.  “Those are very unusual creatures.”

“They’re called flamingos.  Have you never seen them?”

“Are they native to Britain?”

“Only in zoos.  I think they come from warmer countries, like South America.”

“No I would never have seen them before.”  He took a sip of the water and placed the glass on the floor with the utmost care.

Kylie sat opposite him and absently sipped on her own glass of water.  The room was so small that their knees brushed against each other’s.

Luc glanced around the apartment and sniffed the air.  “Where is your male?  I see no evidence of him.”  He sniffed again and smiled.  “I only smell you – lavender and honey.”

She blushed again.  “My what now?”  Was he talking about Brian?  How could he know about Brian?

“Your male, your protector,” he rumbled in wary curiosity, staring around the room as if he expected someone to pop up at any second.

Kylie gave him a blank look before bursting into laughter.  “My protector – that’s a good one.” 

Luc drew his brows together confused at her reaction.  “Do not tell me that you live here alone?”

“Sure, why not?”

“A female such as yourself should not be left unprotected in this world.”

Kylie arched an eyebrow and tried to stem her hiccupping giggles at the thought of Brian – the dick - doing anything more heroic than opening a jar of pickles.  He wouldn’t even tell people to be quiet in movie theatres – he left that entirely up to her.  “Well, my last male is currently bouncing up and down on a blonde harlot in New York.”

That explanation in no way answered his question.  Kylie sighed.  “I guess back where you come from, women’s lib was just a far off dream.  Well, in my day, women do whatever they want.  We can have the same jobs as men, we can live alone, we’re equal to men – we can do anything.  Bet that never happened in your day.”

Luc puffed out his chest.  “Female gargoyles are as much warriors as males,” he told her, proudly.  “My second in command was a female called Ophelia.”  A brief flash of sadness clouded his face, but he quickly stifled it.  Apparently warriors didn’t indulge in feelings of a sensitive nature – not for too long anyway.  “She was a strong fighter who could better many a male gargoyle.”

Kylie crossed her arms and tapped her foot.  “But you think I need a male?”

“You are human.”  He said it as if it explained everything.

“But it’s not like I’m going to be fighting male gargoyles.  Who’s to say I can’t better human males?”

Luc gave her a long, appraising look, taking in every inch of her curvy body, right from her full thighs, her soft belly up to her plump breasts.  “You are not a warrior,” he declared, seemingly satisfied.  “There is no shame in it.  Your body is soft and easily injured; you should be protected.”  His face darkened.  “As I witnessed the previous night, there are still too many in this world who would take advantage of attractive females such as you, too weak to defend themselves.”  His voice turned low and gravely.  “I cannot bear to think of what that male intended to do to you.”