by E A Price
No, he did not truly like humans, but he would never hurt one so small, so innocent.
Her diminutive form was perhaps even smaller than Kylie’s, and she was definitely pink. Her clothes were in varying shades of the offensive color – much like her house. He looked at a fluffy pink cushion and sneered. But her skin, now, that was a warm shade of brown, and her eyes, those were like darkest chocolate – a human confection he had no interest in but which Twenty-Six seemed to adore. As for her hair…
Castor shook his head. Her hair was no concern to him. When had he ever noticed a female gargoyle’s hair? He had not even noticed his intended mate’s hair – what was there to notice? Hair was simply hair.
So why notice that this Tilly creature’s hair was black as midnight, shiny and lush and fell down her back like a waterfall? What is that of consequence to him?
He glared around the room, taking in the pictures of pretty landscapes, the photos of what had to be members of her family, but also photos of the overweight cat who had made her presence known. He looked at the ornaments – the figurines of animals and females in ballgowns, and he considered that he was in hell.
Seven
“Where are you going?” growled Ric.
Brenda rolled her eyes. “To the bathroom.”
Ric looked around suspiciously as his wings quivered. “I better come with you.”
Brenda raised an eyebrow. “To the bathroom? I don’t think so.”
“Ophelia can be insidious.”
“Okay, but I really don’t think she’s hiding in the toilet bowl waiting to leap out at me while I do my business. Everybody knows only snakes and alligators do that.”
Ric shook his head. “Ophelia is… wait, is that true about snakes?” He started looking a little worried. “I hate snakes.”
“Oh, yes, snakes live in the pipes – you always have to check before you go,” she told him seriously. She widened her eyes. “Are you saying you haven’t been checking?”
“No, no, I had no…” His face hardened. “You are teasing me?”
Her loud guffaws told him she was.
“You should take this seriously,” he said in a grumpy voice. “You could be in danger. You must be careful. I could not bear it if anything happened to you.”
Brenda smiled and walked into his arms. He snaked his arms and wings around her, wrapping her in a warm, comforting cocoon.
“I know,” she murmured. “I feel the same, and besides, if I lost you now, who would eat that pan of brownies I made earlier?”
Ric stiffened as another sense of urgency overtook him. “Brownies? You have brownies? Where are the brownies?!”
*
“Okay, okay, so you’re hiding in your bathroom while a…” Tilly gulped. “A gargoyle is currently bleeding on your couch. Yep, nothing abnormal there.”
Tilly paced around her bathroom, which didn’t take long. She stopped and perused her medicine cabinet. She had some plasters, some ointment for burns – occasionally necessary considering how much she baked – and some painkillers for when she suffered cramps.
“Oh, crumbs!”
Her cakes were still sitting in her car… probably. Where was her car?
She peeked through the tiny bathroom window, and yep, her car, now sporting a hideous dent was sitting in her driveway. At least Chris had brought that home. But now she needed to retrieve those cakes so she could photograph them and put them on her blog. Which meant she had to get past the, ah… Tilly gulped. The gargoyle in her living room to get to them. Unless she could squeeze through this window… Nope, not even if her hips weren’t a little on the curvy side. Not to mention that fact that her camera was on her kitchen table, and, perhaps more importantly, she couldn’t spend the rest of her life hiding in her bathroom. Although, maybe… no, she couldn’t.
He certainly was a strange looking beast. He was very - Tilly gulped - big. His massive frame and wings covered her couch. All those teeth, those horns, and pointed ears certainly made him look fierce. Though, perhaps not quite as fierce as the one who tried to attack her. No, as her eyes flashed red and she raised her claws, Tilly honestly thought she was about to die. A bunch of regrets passed through her – not getting married again, not having kids, not ever having perfected her hummingbird cake recipe. But just as quickly, he had jumped in front of her, roaring at the female and protecting Tilly, even though it cost him dearly. He may be trying to hide it, but even Tilly could see he was in pain.
Her fear lessened slightly at that. She even may have started to feel somewhat sympathetic towards him.
Surely, if he meant her harm, he would have allowed the other one to hurt her. Chris certainly didn’t seem fearful of him. That niggled at her – she was definitely missing something there. Why wasn’t Chris surprised to see a gargoyle? Something she would have to question him on later. For now, she needed to work up enough courage to face the gargoyle sprawled on her couch.
Eight
Castor shakily rose to his feet. He was in pain, though he would never admit it out loud, but he could not just sit here in a sea of pinkness – even if her couch were sinfully comfortable. His clan could be in danger, and he needed to go to them, to fight with them.
His chest tightened. He could feel his wound oozing. He would heal, but having to wait was, as Maggie would say, a gigantic pain in the butt.
He snarled in pain as he tried to move to the door.
“What are you doing?” cried a distraught voice.
Startled, his wings flexed, smacking into various pieces of furniture. He weaved on his shaky feet. Tilly rushed to him, tripping over, and diving headlong in his direction. Instinctively, he grasped her small body, but the force of the impact sent him toppling to the ground with her on top of him.
“Crumbs!” she squeaked.
Castor groaned as his injured body protested.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” stammered Tilly as she wriggled on top of his body, looking for a way to get off him without touching him but failing miserably.
Castor grunted. His pain didn’t feel quite as pronounced with Tilly on top of him. For a moment, he managed to forget he was even injured. The feel of the female was not altogether unpleasant. That is, until she lay a hand directly over his wound and he ground his teeth in agony.
“Desist, woman,” he hissed, grasping her arms.
She stilled at his touch, shivering lightly. Her eyes ducked unable to meet his. Castor grunted in annoyance. She was too timid for her own good.
Carefully – because humans were far too breakable, he lifted her off him and, panting from the pain, managed to maneuver himself to a sitting position.
His tail thumped listlessly against the floor as he studied the female. Her dark skin bloomed as a blush spread across her cheeks. She was so scared of him that it almost made him want to reassure her that he wasn’t half the beast he appeared to be. But then, he’d just be lying.
“I, ah… I’m sorry,” she murmured again.
“Humph. You should be more careful.”
Tilly opened her mouth as if to argue and then quickly shut it again, nodding her head.
Castor grunted. If this room didn’t send him wild, then her submissiveness certainly would.
He glared at her, considering chastising her more. She probably fell because of the ridiculous shoes she was wearing. The things had to be at least four inches high. Though, as he watched her, he considered that she might just burst into tears, and he certainly didn’t want to see that.
He started trying to stand, using his wings and tail for balance, but he stilled at the sound of her melodious voice.
“Are you going somewhere?” she asked softly.
“My clan may need my protection.”
“Oh.” Finally, she looked up at him, her eyes, so warm, so inviting held his.
“What about me?”
His jaw tightened as pain lanced across his chest. “What about you?” he muttered distractedly.
“Chris said I mig
ht be in danger.”
Castor grunted. Yes, he would not put it past Ophelia to come back for her, to punish her for an honest mistake. She had not meant to hit the female with her car – it had been purely an accident and only happened because Ophelia fell on the road. The look on Ophelia’s face – the disbelief – had almost been comical at the time. But Ophelia would not see it that way. In his former life, he had not known anyone in his new clan apart from Annis, but he knew of Ophelia. Her mother had been a member of his clan, before leaving to mate a male from Luc’s clan. The crazy apple doesn’t fall far from the mad tree.
“Do you not have anyone to protect you? A male perhaps…”
Something deep within him grumbled at the suggestion, and he flicked his tail impatiently.
Tilly shrugged. “I sort of have a boyfriend…”
“Sort of,” he sneered, feeling a sudden burst of anger and not really understanding why. “Why is he not here with you now?”
“We’ve just been on a couple of dates; it’s nothing serious.”
Castor snorted. Tilly’s expression was laced with fear, but whether it was fear for him or fear that Ophelia may return, he was not sure. He did not really like the idea that she feared him.
Finally, unable to hold out against the huge doe-eyed expression being leveled against him, he let out a small snarl. “Fine, I will stay here and protect you – since your own male is so inadequate.”
Her expression seemed to flicker in relief, and he felt a short burst of pride for that and then felt a little foolish. Well, of course, he could protect her – easily. It was nothing. Ophelia just managed a lucky blow earlier.
He’d always been a strong warrior. He had managed to challenge for leader of his clan, and he had envisioned spending the rest of his days mated to an equally strong warrior and producing sons and maybe daughters to continue his line. Of course, the female he had thought to mate could not bear the sight of him. But she was willing to lie with him to produce younglings. Though, after she agreed to that, she gladly told him that his manhood would feel her blade if he tried to touch her for reasons other than breeding. Yes, there would have been no emotions in their mating. Well, other than hate of course.
But, he didn’t think the pride he felt now was about his abilities as a warrior. No, he felt pride because Tilly wanted him there. He felt pride because the female was depending on him to protect her. His intended mate made it clear she neither wanted or needed him. And now, he was no longer a leader of a clan; he was merely Luc’s third. Perhaps he liked being needed.
*
Kylie peered at the night sky. Ophelia was out there somewhere. She’d known that before tonight, but knowing she was close worried her. Not only for her own safety but the rest of the clan. Not to mention the fact that Ophelia was determined to get her muscular hands on the contents of Luc’s loin cloth. Bitch wanted Kylie’s man.
“You should come away from there,” growled Luc, striding into their bedroom.
Kylie perched on the balcony ledge. “I doubt Ophelia’s going to swoop in and fly away with me.”
“You can never be too careful.”
He came to stand beside her in his six-foot-plus glory. His skin was luscious red, and his body was carved of perfect muscle. His face was set in grim lines, but no matter what, she always thought he looked beautiful.
Kylie reached for one of his huge hands, clasping it with both of hers. He let out a small sound in the back of his throat as he calmed marginally.
“How is Castor?” she asked, while she traced patterns over his palm.
“Chris says he will be fine. Annis has prepared something for his wounds.”
She was relieved to hear it. “Are we sure he is safe away from the rest of the clan?”
Luc shrugged a massive shoulder, sending a rippling effect through his wings. “He is a good warrior, and besides, there is a human involved.”
“Yes, Tilly,” she murmured, pressing her lips together.
“You do not like her?”
“I think Tilly is lovely.” The woman had the sweetest temperament of anyone she had ever met. She sometimes worried Tilly allowed people to walk all over her, but Tilly always had a smile and a kind word for everyone. “But just a little… fragile. I dread to think how she’s getting along with Castor. Maybe I should…”
“No.”
“But…”
“You are not to leave the house,” he told her firmly.
“Maybe during the day…”
He blew out a long breath and glared at her.
“Ophelia will be asleep…”
“She may have human allies.”
“She hates humans,” argued Kylie who could definitely attest to that.
“But she has worked with them before.”
“I could take Chris with me.”
Luc gave her a look of exasperation – one she was all too familiar with. “I will consider it.”
Kylie gave him the look. The look that said don’t you dare try to forbid me from doing something, or there will be consequences. It was a look he had garnered many times.
“You must consider the safety of our youngling,” he said in a gentler tone, placing his large hand on her small bump.
Kylie sighed. She couldn’t argue with that. “You’re right.”
“I am?” he asked wondrously.
He was so rarely right during an argument that it appeared to give him a heady feeling.
“Don’t get used to it,” she murmured and smiled softly, invitingly.
Luc clasped her and brought her lips to his for a kiss. Maybe they shouldn’t be doing this right now, but if their enemies were preparing to attack – they needed to grasp whatever moments together that they could.
Nine
“I do not understand,” growled Castor for the fifth time.
Tilly took a deep breath and explained again.
“Why not simply tell people your recipes, why do you feel the need to put them onto this… blog?”
Tilly was trying to explain about her baking blog. He didn’t seem to understand. Websites and blogs seemed almost entirely alien to him, and she wondered at that. Had he been hiding his entire life? He didn’t seem to know about half the things she was talking about.
She had pulled up her blog and shown him some of her previous posts. He had glared at the computer and huffed at her recipes.
“I can reach a wider audience this way. Plus, I do make money through the ads.”
“Humph, so this is all about money?”
He sneered, folded his large arms over his chest, only wincing slightly as they touched the poultice.
Chris had promptly returned with a very strange smelling poultice for Castor. He had grumbled and complained, and did not allow Chris to put it on – he insisted on doing it himself.
Tilly blushed at the obnoxious male. “The money is nice, but I do this because I enjoy it, and people like to see my creations and they like to try my recipes.”
“Humph. Humans are always so keen to flaunt themselves.”
She considered that she could not win with him. After Chris left, the two of them were once again alone, and she was none the wiser about the situation she found herself in. Chris would not be drawn to answer any questions she had. So, she decided just to try to continue as normal – no matter how surreal the situation may be. She retrieved her red velvet cupcakes – which had survived the crash admirably and set about trying to take a good photo of them for her blog. Of course, that is when Castor started asking questions.
She found a good angle and was about to get a good picture when “Who is that?”
She jumped, nearly dropping the camera. Frowning, she saw he was pointing at a photo of her sister. Angie was being cuddled by her husband and was holding their two sons. They were smiling brightly, as happy as anything. It was hard to take a bad photo of Angie; she was naturally photogenic.
“My sister, Angie and her family.”
The photo was tak
en by Tilly not long after Angie’s second son was born, a little over five years ago, before the blog. After she left Joe, Angie insisted Tilly go stay with her. It meant that Tilly had somewhere to stay while she got back on her feet, and she could look after the boys. Angie was desperate to get back to work and their last nanny had quit. Angie and her husband were both doctors. Angie had a wonderful life and Tilly was inordinately envious of her.
“Humph.”
“They live in California.”
His forehead furrowed. “That is far away?”
“It’s the other side of the country,” she replied cautiously. Did he really not know that? Had he been living in a cave?
He grunted and then lapsed into silence. He fiddled with the poultice and his tail twitched intermittently.
Tilly made a couple of adjustments and raised her camera to take a picture.
“Why do they live so far away?”
She jumped, scrabbling to hold onto the camera. He looked at her expectantly.
“Umm, that’s where she went to college, so she moved there and then found a job there.”
Silence again. Tilly tried for the third time, but of course, it was not to be.
“Do you not have any other family?” he demanded, gruffly.
Tilly put the camera down. Her nerves were fraying, and the camera had already survived three near misses.
“Umm, there’s my mom and dad.”
He looked around the room until he found photos of them.
“They moved to be near Angie after I graduated high school.” By that time Angie was married and expecting her first child, and her parents thought she needed as much support as possible. When he was born, Angie asked Tilly to come stay for a while to take care of him while they sorted a proper nanny, and during that time she met Joe…
“We don’t really talk much.” Truthfully, she didn’t really talk much to Angie either. Oh, she followed Angie on her social media pages. Her sister always had a cute photo to post or something fun to report. Tilly gave her likes and made the occasional comment, but they only really spoke on the phone when Angie called her. Angie was always so busy she never had time to take Tilly’s calls. But if it was something important – like if she needed Tilly to housesit while they went on vacation, she would call.
