When A Gargoyle Flies (Gargoyles Book 3) (3 page)

Chapter Two

Luc landed on the balcony and strode into Kylie’s bedroom, hoping to find her still snoozing in bed.  He took great pleasure in waking her and ravishing her body.  Experience told him that when she was already awake by the time he arrived, she was much harder to get back into bed.  He always managed, it just took a lot of cajoling.

Disappointment stroked through him on seeing the rumpled bedclothes and a lack of his mate.

“Little one,” he rumbled, claws itching to drop his loincloth, find his mate and take her over and over.

Perhaps he would not even bother with a bed.  Occasionally, he enjoyed taking her against the wall.  He preferred the wall, feeling more in control, but his mate felt more comfort in the bed.  If he was honest, he preferred taking his mate from behind.  He found the position to be exceedingly satisfying; she could take even more of his length like that.  It was not a particularly popular coupling position for gargoyles – the female’s wings and tail were cumbersome and distracting.  But with a human, it was incredible.  However, it was not something he insisted on often, as he was a little on the large side for Kylie at the best of times, and he did not wish to hurt her.  His manhood rose as he ran through the different lovemaking positions in his mind.

“Oh!”  Kylie came to a halt as she bolted out of the bathroom, fumbling and dropping the box she was carrying.

“What is this?”

“No, don’t!”

Luc bent down and grasped the box, lifting it away from Kylie’s grasping fingers.  Her hair was slightly disheveled, and she was still wearing her nightshirt.  If he wasn’t so concerned about her behavior, he might have taken a moment to enjoy her appearance more.

He scanned the pink cardboard box and frowned.  “Pregnancy test?”  His eyes shot to Kylie.

“It was negative,” she blurted.  “They all were.  I tried six tests, and they were all negative.”

His expression dimmed as she babbled.

“My period’s late so I thought maybe… but no.  It must be something else.”

“Why did you not tell me you thought you might be carrying my young?”

Kylie flushed even as a little bitterness flashed through her.  “How can I talk to you about this?  You keep telling me that you want lots of lots of gargoyle babies without any thought about how I feel.”

Luc jerked in surprise at the vehemence of her tone.  “Little one, I thought you also wanted children.  Do you not?”

She threw up her hands.  “Yes, well, maybe.  I always thought I’d be a mom one day – it’s just what people do, but if I never have kids I’ll be okay with that.  But you won’t.  All you care about is continuing your race.”

“My race is all but destroyed,” he snapped.

Kylie deflated a little and placed a hand on his arm, easing him.  “I know, babe, and it tears me up.  But do you know what it’s like to know that you’re one of the only people standing between a race’s survival and destruction?”

Luc gave her a look, and she continued.

“Okay, you do, but it’s not the same.  What if I can’t get pregnant?  You can still go off and mate with a female gargoyle.”

“I would never!” he snarled, moving away from her as his wings thrashed out to their full width and destroyed a small bookcase.

Kylie sighed as she looked into his grim face.  “Wouldn’t you?  Wouldn’t you feel obligated?  Shouldn’t I feel obligated to let you?  And shouldn’t you want that?”

Luc frowned his eyebrows meeting.

“I mean, I love you, but I don’t want to be the person standing between you having kids and you helping your race survive.  What if I can never have your kids?  What if I can’t conceive?”

“I do not believe…”

She held up a hand.  “Yes, you don’t believe nature would be so cruel – I’ve heard it before.  But look around you – nature’s a bitch.”

Luc breathed in and out for a few moments.  “You said that you are not pregnant.  Ergo, we are arguing over nothing.  You also said over a month ago that you did not want to chance me impregnating you at this time.”

“That wasn’t an insult,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

They had argued when she brought it up, informing him she would be going on the pill.  At first, he took it as a personal affront that she wished to protect herself from him ‘seeding her’.  She asked him never to use that expression again and told him that she just couldn’t cope with being pregnant and waking the gargoyles.  The magic – which was still new to her – drained her every time she used it.  She didn’t want to put any undue stress on a baby.  He agreed with that wholeheartedly.  He just wasn’t aware of her other reasons for making sure she was on birth control - her fear of never conceiving at all one of them.

“Perhaps we should discuss this matter when you ready to take my…”

“Please don’t say seed!”

Luc grunted impatiently.  “When you are ready to try for a youngling.”

Kylie tried to stay angry, but she felt tears welling in her eyes.  “It won’t make a difference when we talk about it.  You can’t deny it’s a possibility that we won’t ever have children together.  We’re two different species – we may not be compatible.”

“We are compatible,” he said in a gentler voice.

“Well, jaguars and lions may be compatible, but it doesn’t mean they can have kittens.”  His face flashed in exasperation.  “And what if,” she licked her lips, annoyed as a stray tear slipped down her cheek, “what if it’s too dangerous for me to carry your baby?  What if I get pregnant, but I can’t carry him or her to term?”

Luc moved to her, lifting her into his arms, nuzzling his face in her hair.  “You think I would let you be in danger?”

“For our baby…”

“Kylie, little one, my foolish little mate…”

“Hey!”  In spite of her fear, she slapped his arm.

He pulled back and glared at her, fury and compassion warring on his face.  “I would never put you in danger – even for a child of our own.  I would be proud to father your children, but I am proud just to have you as my mate.  I will never take another mate.  If we can have younglings, we will.  If we can’t, we won’t.  It is as simple as that.”

“But…”

“No buts.  I have lived for centuries trapped with the pain of what happened to my race.  Let us enjoy what we have, rather than lament what we can never have.”

Kylie stared at him, and he shifted uncomfortably.  “Was that not the right thing to say?”

“No, that was… perfect.  Just what I needed to hear.”

“But you are not happy?”

“No, I am, I just… you’re right.  Or I was right when I said it wasn’t a good time to have a baby.  Let’s wait, and when things are calmer, then we will really think about having a baby.”

“Yes.”  He hesitated.  “You know that Ingrede is expecting her second?”

Kylie nodded.  “I’m pleased for her, for all of us.  That’s what got me thinking about my period.”

“You are ill then?  This period of yours being late is not a good thing?”

She shrugged, trying not to snicker – the menstrual cycle was still very much a mystery to him.  Lucky female gargoyles were only fertile for a week four times a year and never had to menstruate.  “It’s probably nothing, but I think I’ll make an appointment with the new doctor in town.  I need a refill on my birth control anyway.”

“You are still taking it and yet you feared you might have conceived?”

“Well, it’s not a hundred percent perfect.”  No birth control, with the exception of abstinence, was – and that was not a method she wanted to try.  Nor did she wish to try condoms again.  Trying to get Luc to wear one was a nightmare.  He said it felt wrong and just about threw a fit when she was trying to put it on him – it spoiled the sexy mood just a little, and he was perhaps a tad too large for them.

Kylie rested her head on his shoulder.  “We should really get ready – Chris and Brenda are coming to dinner.”

Luc harrumphed, and she smiled.  The concept of dinner parties was still new and unwelcome to the gargoyle.  No, she didn’t consider hunting and then ripping apart their prey to be a dinner party.

“Brenda comes to the house nearly every night, why would tonight be any different?”

“We want Chris on our side.  We’re trying to show him how civilized gargoyles are, remember?”  Not an easy feat with Dragoslava wandering around.  It was hard enough to get the huge gargoyle to wear a loincloth, never mind getting him to behave.  Apparently, his old clan was very into letting it all hang out.

“Humph.  He was very much on our side when he stormed that laboratory with us.”  He grinned at the memory.  As a whole, his life was quite monotonous, and she imagined that night had been very enjoyable for the warrior gargoyle.  She did not begrudge him a little excitement – even if the events of that night worried and horrified her in equal measure.

“Chris is still unhappy about Ric and Brenda mating.  We need to put him at ease, and besides, the more humans we have on our side, the easier it will be when you do have to come out to the world.”

Something else that scared her to death – what would people do to him when they discovered that gargoyles were alive?  It was all very well worrying about their future – or lack of future – offspring.  What if Luc didn’t live long enough to father any children?

There were so many – too many – worries racing through her mind.  She needed to stop them.

“Take me to bed,” she whispered.

He didn’t need asking twice.

Chapter Three

Chris pulled the wedding ring out of his pocket.  He wasn’t wearing it anymore, hadn’t in a long time, but he still carried it in his pocket.  He couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it entirely.  His wife, Mara had been dead for years now, but that didn’t stop the ache, the guilt over losing her, it just made him guiltier knowing that the ache was becoming considerably less strong.  Sometimes he went days without even thinking about her, and sometimes he even forgot to carry the ring.

He could still picture the first time he met Mara, running down the street like a loon.  It was a bachelorette party, and all the women had a list of dares.  Hers was to kiss a handsome man.  She was like a whirlwind, leaping on him and kissing him like her life depended on it.

She wouldn’t let him go until he agreed to a date with her.  He didn’t have time to think – a beautiful woman was groping him in the middle of the street; he just said yes.

Mara wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met.  His previous girlfriends were all cops and FBI agents – people like him.  But Mara was wonderful, fun and fearless, turning his perfectly ordered, perfectly planned world upside down.  He was intrigued the moment he met her and infatuated by their third date.

Her cheeky smile flashed before his eyes, her blue eyes sparkling.  He could imagine her about to open her mouth to give him another dare.  Mara lived her life at a hundred miles an hour.  That was the problem.

Chris spun his ring on his desk, watching the almost hypnotic movements.

Mara truly was one of a kind.  Bitterness stabbed at his heart, and he closed his eyes.  It only ebbed when he pushed the thoughts of her away.  But annoyance and guilt rose as his thoughts turned to another woman.

Annis – that damn, bewitching creature with her shy smile and huge purple eyes.  Not a day went by when the image of her didn’t rise before him unbidden.  It was driving him batty.  His thoughts had started turning to her more often than they did Mara and it was starting to worry him.  There was just something about her.

The other gargoyles were huge beasts, brutish and demonic looking – even the other females.  Annis was like the My Little Pony version of a gargoyle.

From one of his stilted conversations with his – ugh – nephew, Ric, he understood that Annis was an anomaly.  Gargoyles were generally large and muscled.  But not Annis.  No, she was maybe five foot seven, small even compared to him, never mind the behemoth of a gargoyle called Dragoslava.   She was fairly slight, her small frame further highlighted by wings that looked like they would make her topple over any moment.  Her skin was dark pink, she had small pointed ears, and lush black hair and her eyes were luminous orbs set against pixie-like features.

She was strangely pretty.  Chris shook his head.  He shouldn’t be thinking like that.

Damn gargoyles.  They were infecting all of his life.  If it wasn’t one of them debauching his niece it was another stalking his every waking thought.

Chris rubbed a hand over his head and wandered over to the break room – a folding table with a coffee machine - to get another cup of coffee.  The stuff was absolute sludge, and his two officers refused to have anything to do with it, but he liked it.  He wasn’t known for having excellent culinary taste.  He was a decent, solid cook with a firm repertoire of dishes.  But he was also someone who would happily mix red wine with fish, and he firmly believed that hot sauce could make any meal better – including fish.

He added five sugars to his coffee – which is probably what actually made it drinkable and sucked it down.

Bob, the dog, came bounding towards him, shortly followed by Martha.  Chris put his drink down and took a moment to try out a few things he had been teaching Bob.

“Stop.”

Bob ran around his desk three times and then finally did, probably because he was dizzy.

“Sit.”

Bob’s tongue lolled out of his mouth as his tail wagged at a ferocious speed.

“Stay.”

He was already still so he really couldn’t mess that up… oh, wait, yes he could.  Bob resumed running around Chris’ desk.

Martha clucked her tongue in disapproval.  “I’m telling you, Chris, if you want him to obey you need to send him to an obedience school.  My cousin, Wendy sent her poodle to one just outside Portland, and it worked wonders for her.  The dog barely even barks anymore.  I could ask her to refer you; you’d get a discount.”

Chris put himself in front of Bob, forcing the dog to a halt.  He kneeled and started scratching the happy mutt.

“I appreciate the offer, Martha.  But Bob’s a good dog.”

“He’s supposed to be a police dog,” she complained.  “He needs to learn the word no.  I had to run after him twice today when he chased after squirrels.”

Chris smiled at her politely.  “He’s not a police dog; he just showed up at the police station one day, Tim and Craig felt sorry for him and fed him, and now he refuses to leave.  He’s just a stray, and I don’t really want to send him somewhere that uses choke chains to force obedience into animals.”

Martha rolled her eyes and scratched her leg.  “He’s just a dog.  He would as soon bite you as bark at you.”

“Still, no.”

Even if he did agree with Martha, he knew that Brenda would go ballistic at him if he sent Bob away.  It wasn’t worth the undoubtedly loud argument and ensuing silent treatment he would have to endure.

She gave him a look that told him he was ridiculous.  He gave her a look that said get over it.

“Martha, it’s getting late, you can take off.”

She hesitated and pursed her lips.  “You sure you don’t need me to do anything else?”

“I don’t think our file cabinet can be any more filed than it already is.”  The way she had organized everything so efficiently was pretty impressive, and, reluctantly, he doubted his first choice for the job could have done it so quickly or tidily.

“Okay, I was going to head on over to the diner, do you want to tag along?”

She flipped her hair in a coquettish manner that did nothing for him.  Martha was attractive enough, beautiful actually.  With her golden blonde hair and blue eyes, she was considered the town beauty.  But Chris felt no spark for her.

“I can’t – plans.”

Chris gave Bob’s head one last scratch and got to his feet.  Yep, he had plans all right.  So did Bob – he got an invite too.  Probably why he was so excited.  Damn beast was tail over head for Annis.  He certainly sat when she told him to sit.

“Okay,” Martha sniffed.  “See you tomorrow.”

“Yep, have a nice night.”

He watched her leave and patted Bob.  “Close call, huh, boy.”

The police force of Devil’s Hang consisted of him, his two officers, Tim and Craig, and Bob who was an honorary member.  The town was small, and if they needed backup, there was any number of volunteers he could call on.  Chris was also a volunteer firefighter – the town not having its own squad.

In general, the three police officers worked at various times in the daytime, and one of them was on call at night, with the phone from the station forwarded to their respective cell.  However, there had been some complaints from certain townspeople – busybodies the lot of them – that too many calls during the day were missed if all three officers were out, and they insisted the station needed someone to man the reception.

So, Chris had caved and advertised for a part-time receptionist.  The pay wasn’t great and duties included tending to Bob, the dog.  He hadn’t really expected anyone to answer the ad.  Really, he should have known better in such a small town.  He got twenty applicants.  Most were looky-loos.  Others were those hoping to work there and learn gossip about their friends and neighbors.  In reality, he only had two good candidates – Martha and Gwen.

He leaned toward Gwen.  The quiet teenager had finished school and was staying at home to care for her mother.  She already worked a few hours in Bea’s antique store and was looking to pick up more hours elsewhere.

Martha… well, she was big on community spirit, and big on insisting that everyone else get some community spirit – whether they liked it or not.  Bossy, hectoring, and strident were words tossed around when thinking of Martha.  Chris couldn’t really fault her – except for a hitherto unknown callousness to dogs.  She wasn’t exactly mean; she was just pushy.  She was also hankering after Chris to date her after they enjoyed a couple of meals together at the diner.  That kind of attention was not something he needed on a day-to-day basis, and feeling that Gwen needed the work more, he was all set to hire her until Martha’s cousin – head of the town council – intervened and not so subtly told him to hire his cousin.

Martha belonged to a large, extended family that made up a sizable percentage of the town population, and on a side note included Maggie who was currently living up at the mansion with the gargoyles.  Although with the exception of her pastor uncle, Maggie didn’t seem to get along with most of her family – she was considered the oddball.

Course, Chris was all set to ignore him completely and hire Gwen, but Gwen suddenly changed her mind about wanting the job, and no amount of cajoling from Chris could change it back.  He figured it had something to do with the head of the town council also being Gwen’s landlord.  The young woman wouldn’t want her sick mother being thrown out onto the street.

So, he was now stuck with Martha.  She was efficient enough, but when someone called the station with a problem, he didn’t really like her giving advice down on the phone on how to handle the issue.  Ruefully, he couldn't deny that her interfering might be more helpful than a police presence for some of the petty arguments he got called for, but there was a chance her meddling could make it much worse, too.

His phone rang, and he grabbed it.  “Devil’s Hang Police Station.”

“Chris!  That is Chris, right?  Sorry if it’s not but you sound a lot like Chris.”

He relaxed back into his chair and smiled.  “Hey, Melissa, how’s it going?”

Melissa Sanchez was an old friend, an FBI agent he’d worked with back when he was a detective in Portland.  They’d gone on a few dates, but work always seemed to intervene, and it never got any further than a peck on the cheek goodnight.  He’d liked her a lot, but they’d both been more interested in starting their careers than settling into a relationship.

“Good, good, can’t complain.  Well, I twisted my ankle a couple of weeks while I was out investigating a UFO sighting, but other than that, good.”

When he met Melissa, she was a junior agent assigned to white-collar crimes.  Now, she was the only agent in the Portland FBI assigned to weird cases – UFOs, Bigfoot, aliens, werewolves and so on and so forth.  She had a tiny office in the basement, and her section didn’t even have a name.  Technically it didn’t exist.  But that wasn’t part of some conspiracy; it was just that no one took her investigations seriously enough to push the paperwork through.  Chris was surprised that the young, ambitious agent had agreed to work those cases.  Although, Melissa was at heart a decent and kind person, and perhaps not ruthless enough when it came to her career.

They exchanged pleasantries while he proudly told her about Brenda’s straight As and she told him about a cute thing her cat had done the other day.  Bob growled at the word cat, but Chris grabbed his squeaky ball and threw it across the room.  Bob watched it, gave Chris a look and then settled onto the floor.

“What can I do for you?”  Chris asked as Melissa finished the story about Lion-O climbing her curtains.

“Actually, it’s work related.  A got a report from a couple who just spent the weekend up in your neck of the woods that they saw a giant bat flying around during the two nights they were there.  Said they reported it to one of your deputies who told them other people in town had seen it, too.”

Chris stilled.  He remembered when he’d heard reports like this a month ago, putting them down to bored kids making stuff up.  Now he knew the truth.  Damnit.  Either Craig or Tim had shot their mouths off and it had made it to the FBI.

“Giant bat?” he repeated.

“Yeah, I know.  The couple wasn't exactly clear.  The husband said a bat; the wife thought it might have been a griffin.  When I interviewed them, they got into this huge argument over it.”

“Sure, a griffin, that seems much more likely.”

“Yeah well, investigating unlikely things is my life.”  Melissa let out a long breath, not unhappily just resignedly.  “This is one I’d usually pass on given that they both admitted they’d been drinking when they saw it.  Apparently, they were there on some fancy pants wine tasting weekend.”

“Yeah, we get a lot of those.”  Some of the B&Bs had them.  Wine, witchcraft, and antiques were their main attractions.  And now gargoyles he thought uneasily.

“But, they are friends of my boss’ boss - so I couldn’t say no, and given what they were told…  Any thought on the bat?”

Chris told her the same thing he told the town council when they last brought it up.  “You know the town has a history to do with witchcraft.  It was probably just someone trying to drum up tourists.  I don’t know, probably just some radio control helicopter with a blanket over it.”  Something Maggie had done before on one of her midnight tours of the town to scare tourists.  Given that the blanket caught fire and the whole thing got stuck in a tree, it worked.