He wondered if Mogul and Gravul still haunted London. Surely the males were not so foolish to remain in the city after Tas and Frelinray’s capture.
Hours passed and the sun moved, shifting away the shadows and bathing him in warmth. Tas turned his face to the light, letting himself revel in the sensation of earth and sun.
Soon he would take to the skies. So long deprived, nothing compared to the joy of flight. Earth’s blue sky was a poor replacement for the deep violet of Duras, but he’d take it until he could return home.
Eager to explore the universe, Tas left his family and his planet without hesitation. Now, after a thousand years of waiting, he regretted that he never appreciated the stark beauty of Duras or his family’s support in his youth. His last words to his father had been less than kind.
Tas pushed that memory away. Wallowing in regret would not help him.
His family’s aerie perched atop a high mountainside. Fierce storms were common on Duras and would wrap around the aerie and shake the structure fiercely until it felt as though the very foundations would crumble. When the storms cleared, a peaceful and rare violet sky surround the home. The sweet, gentle winds were the best flying weather.
As a fledgling unsure of his wings, his father gathered Tas in his arms and leaped from the aerie. His strong legs pushed them far enough from the mountainside to avoid the rocks. His father opened his arms, letting Tas go but holding him by the hand. They fell, side by side.
The ground rushed toward them in a wild descent. It was fly or crash into the ground.
Panic kept Tas’s wings flat against his back. His father crooned a soft, reassuring melody that masked the fear pounding in his ears. That melody was a song of joy. Of flight.
His father’s wings snapped out, and instinct took over Tas as his wings did the same. They caught an updraft and glided on the zephyr.
Tas laughed, elated as his wings flexed, and climbed higher. He wanted to live in that moment, delighting in how a hard and cruel world gave such a wondrous reward: a clear violet sky.
A twig snapped as a human approached.
Tas tensed, ready to attack or climb to the upper branches and hide.
Whistling tunelessly, the human walked by, oblivious to his presence. She carried on her painfully flat melody, insulting music lovers everywhere.
The whistling disappeared in the distance. Water splashed.
Tas waited, focused on hearing evidence of Juniper’s continued existence.
Something broke the water’s surface, gasping for breath.
His female was in the water. Panic urged him toward the sound of her gasps and splashing. She was drowning. She needed him.
juniper
She loved this place. A city girl her entire life, Juniper never imagined that she’d enjoy the absolute solitude and quiet of a cabin in the Poconos. TV reception was terrible, the radio was barely better, no internet, and every little bit of weather made driving hazardous. The nearest town had one gas station, one greasy diner, and one grocery store—and they all closed at nine in the evening and all day on Sunday. It was such a strange way of life that Juniper never expected to be charmed by it.
The furniture Mrs. Cannella inherited from her mother filled the cabin. Heavy, somber furniture from the early part of the last century, pink and cream and covered in plastic. Little old lady decor? Charming, even to a mod-loving girl like her. She even liked the dated, technicolor floral wallpaper.
The first time she and Chloe opened the door, Chloe rolled her eyes—because teenager—but did not laugh. Juniper wouldn’t complain about a free vacation, but the plastic was uncomfortable and sticky on high humidity days. No amount of Windex got it clean and the window cleaner was the only cleaning agent in the cabin. Everything had that strange ammonia-like smell and she liked it.
The cabin, imperfect as it was, felt lived-in and loved. She liked the chipped linoleum countertops, the uneven floor, and the pastel pink bathroom. The way birdsong drifted in through the windows every morning helped to ease a lot of the small annoyances and put a smile on her face.
Juniper set about turning the cabin out and preparing for a brief stay. The work kept her out of her own head and gave her a break from worry. Unfortunately, it didn’t take as long as she expected. Once she ran yesterday’s barf-splattered clothes through the wash, put fresh sheets on the bed, and unpacked the food, there wasn’t much to keep her occupied.
The gargoyle had vanished into the woods. Alone, she counted out Mickey’s emergency bribe money. A girl needed to know, right? Failing to believe the total, she counted it again.
Ten grand.
Mickey just kept ten grand in baggies taped to the underside of the driver’s seat just because and no one ever stole it. Unbelievable.
The stacks of cash felt like a lot of money, but Juniper knew it would vanish fast. It wasn’t start-over-in-a-new-town money, but it was certainly extended-vacation money. When she got Chloe back, they’d lay low, maybe at the cabin, or maybe they’d take a road trip. Even the cheapest hotel rooms would add up fast and how cheap did she want to go? She didn’t want to be murdered in her sleep or get athlete’s foot from the gross showers.
But ten grand.
Until then, she had nothing to do but wait for Tas to say he was well enough to return to those Rose people.
Needing to get out of her own head, she decided to go for a swim.
The forest was a riot of deep reds and bright orange leaves. This late in the month, she expected the trees to be bare and find a good layer of fallen leaves carpeted the ground. Then again, what did a city girl know about autumnal leaves?
Watching it shimmer under the afternoon sun, Juniper could not wait to sink into the water. The lake was her favorite part when staying at the cabin. In the summer, the lake kept busy with fishermen at dawn and swimmers at noon. This time of year, the off season, the water was vacant.
She stood at the end of the old pier and glanced around, to make sure she was, indeed, alone. Seeing no one, she stripped off her shirt and jeans. She hesitated at her bra and panties, unsure. She was alone. The only person in the woods was Tas, and he was blind. She unhooked her bra and shimmied out of her panties.
Taking a deep breath, she jumped off the end of the pier.
Cool water braced against her skin. The sun kept the temperature warm enough to enjoy. She wouldn’t be able to stay in the water long before the sun set, but it was heaven until then.
Juniper broke the surface, slicking back her hair and wiping water from her eyes. The musty, earthy taste of lake water lingered on her lips.
“Female. Do you require assistance?”
“Join me! The water’s fine.” She lazily kicked her legs and moved her arms to stay afloat in one place.
Her gargoyle stood at the edge of the pier, his good wing outstretched and shaking.
“No,” Tas said bluntly.
“It’ll be fun.”
His glowering amped up a level, reaching new heights of disapproval.
Right. This gargoyle was not interested in fun.
Juniper took a breath and dipped under the water. Her foot brushed against the mossy bottom, and she pushed herself up toward the surface.
“Come out of the water. It is not safe,” he said, distress rising in his voice. His wing shook violently.
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the water.”
His good wing snapped flat against his back, and his posture stiffened. Juniper kept her eyes on his face because his posture wasn’t the only thing that was stiff. An erection tented his sweatpants.
“I am not afraid,” he said.
“Then get in the water.” She sent a splash in his direction, knowing it would never reach him.
“No.”
“Then sit on the pier and dip your feet in.”
He huffed before lowering into a seated position. “I am only doing this in case you become distressed and need assistance.”
Ah. Her gargoyle wanted to play
lifeguard. “That’s sweet.”
“It is practical.”
It really wasn’t, not from her point of view. She needed him a lot more than he needed her. He could fly off—okay, maybe not with a broken wing—but he could slip away in the night and leave her to deal with the Rose people on her own. If she showed up empty-handed, no gargoyle…
Yeah. It wouldn’t end well for her or Chloe. It was in her interest to keep the gargoyle happy.
Her eyes returned to his lap, his hard-on still prominent. Instinctively, she licked her lips.
Well, that was one way to make a gargoyle happy. She knew she should feel disgusted for thinking about sex as currency—good girls didn’t do that—but the idea didn’t disgust her.
And she wasn’t that good.
Tas hadn’t demanded sex as payment for helping her. Not yet. Probably never. Juniper suspected he might be clinging to some tattered sense of honor that would prohibit him from expressing his desire.
That was sweet, as sweet as him worrying about her swimming in the lake. She’d have to make the first move, and it didn’t seem like a hardship.
She floated on her back and kicked, sending herself away from the pier and the gargoyle. No hardship at all.
“Do not do that,” he growled.
“What? Swim?”
“Stay near the pier where I can reach you.”
She swam toward him, just to appease him and not because it made her feel all warm and mushy inside having the gargoyle worry about her safety.
Something brushed her leg and she yelped in surprise. Something more than weeds or seaweed or whatever lurked in a freshwater lake. Fish. Or a turtle. Did those things bite?
It brushed against her again. She shouted and slapped at the surface of the lake. What was that? An otter? But otters were cute. A beaver? Those things were monsters, all teeth and chomping—and it wanted a bite of her.
“Juniper?” Tas paced at the end of the pier.
The murder beaver touched her again. Juniper screamed.
“Juniper!” Tas hurled himself off the pier and splashed into the lake. “Do not panic!” He thrashed in the water, making swift progress toward her. His arms wrapped around her and his legs kicked out, treading in place.
“I have you,” he said. With an arm hooked under hers, he pulled her back to the pier. His good wing beat the surface of the water, splashing onto her face.
She sputtered, lake water in her nose and eyes. “You actually can swim.”
“Of course I can swim,” he muttered. “I do not enjoy it.”
“But you jumped in.” She hooked her arms around his neck.
“You were in distress.” His tone implied Juniper was a bit slow for not understanding that her safety came first. The remarkably sweet sentiment, coming from such a sour old grump, caught her by surprise.
Juniper became very aware of their bodies pressed together, nothing between them but water. A few minutes ago she had been calculating how to seduce a chivalrous gargoyle. The idea of sex had been clinical and cool, an exchange to be made. Now, real desire coiled tight in her gut, and she wanted to feel him everywhere. Inside her, deep in her aching core.
His short, wet hair plastered to his skull made his horns appear larger. Droplets clung to his eyelashes. Juniper’s gaze kept returning to his lips, full and stained the color of crushed blackberries.
“My hero,” she said. “You’re always so hard. Is it for me?” She brushed her thigh against his hard cock, wrapping her legs around his waist.
She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to those lips. Tas tensed but did not move. She paused, waiting for him to say no before she came back. Her lips moved against his, eliciting no reaction. This was terrible. Worse than kissing a statue because this was a living, breathing person who was not enjoying himself.
“I’m sorry,” she said, pulling away. A blush burned hot and fierce on her face. What was she thinking, kissing the gargoyle? Completely embarrassing. The only worse blunder would have been if she grabbed his dick and gave it a tug. He was uncomfortable, and here she was kissing him like they were having a moment. “I should have asked.”
She swam toward the ladder and hauled herself up. Tas collapsed next to her. Using the towel she brought from the cabin, she dried her face before handing it to the gargoyle.
“Dry yourself,” he said.
“Your pants are soaked. At least my clothes are dry.”
He sat straighter and his hands flexed, as if remembering how he held onto her just moments ago. “You are nude.”
“Gotta be to go skinny dipping.” She dried her arms and chest quickly before slipping on her shirt. Long strands of her wet hair caught under the collar. “Thanks for jumping in, by the way.” She hadn’t been in any real distress, but it was sweet the way he jumped in when he clearly disliked the water. Then she had to ruin it—
Ugh. Juniper buried her face in her hands.
“I would appreciate it if you would leave me alone,” he said, frost in his voice.
“Oh, um, fine. I wasn’t trying to bother you.” Just kiss him and hold onto him, buck ass naked, like he had some obligation to reciprocate. She misjudged the signals. He had a hard-on all the time around her. That seemed a pretty obvious signal to her but, clearly, she was wrong. He just stood there like stone under her touch, and she felt only disgust with herself.
He stood abruptly and took a few steps before stopping and turning toward her. “My concern was only for your safety. Our ship crashed into the Atlantic. I survived because I can swim. Those who could not, drowned,” he said, before leaving her alone on the pier.
11
Tas
Tas did not return to the cabin when night fell. He could not be near her, not when she gleefully wrapped her legs around him and kissed him, making her desire known. It took all his willpower not to moan into her mouth. His people did not press their mouths together as a sign of affection or as part of mating, not like humans. Their fangs got in the way. Obviously, he should not have enjoyed the kiss. Or wanted more.
Curiosity kept him from retreating. Nothing more. He had observed plenty of kisses. Humans in their crowded cities were remarkably bold about their mating. At night, half-hidden in dark alley, he’d witnessed many couplings with the cool, removed interest of an anthropologist studying the local habits.
He certainly never wanted to try a human-style kiss, and he certainly did not want to kiss Juniper.
He didn’t want to desire a human, but his body craved her like he craved the wind. She was likely a Syndicate agent. The situation was a trap. And yet he found it harder and harder to convince himself that was the case.
Groaning with frustration, he stayed under the stars and slept in the grass. He dreamed of Juniper, a female with indistinct features but he knew it was her, and she had her mouth around his cock, lips full and red. She looked up at him, eyes as brilliant as starlight and filled with devotion. He woke, coming all over his stomach.
Determined to maintain his distance, he resisted the aroma of the meal Juniper cooked, instead eating a handful of pebbles and sand from the lake.
She was like a pebble in his boot, annoying him at every step and invading his thoughts. Keeping her at a distance helped but he held her in his arms yesterday. She had been in distress, true, and at the time he did not appreciate her warmth or her softness. His skin tingled where they had inadvertently touched.
The situation was insufferable.
Tas tramped through the woods, confident that he was alone. He heard no birdsong, as most animals fled from him. Likewise, he heard no sounds associated with humans, either from engines or their excessive chatting. All he heard was the wind, rustling the leaves and grass. The lake lapped against the shore.
He foot caught a root and he stumbled, wings flexing uselessly to stabilize him. The trees, clustered together tightly, interfered with his spatial orientation. He could discern the shape of things. The lack of significant improvement over the day before frustrat
ed him.
It was the female, his damnable pebble.
Until he could purge the mating hormones from his body, he would never enter duramna and heal. His body was a broken thing, and he loathed it for not complying.
Tas found a flat rock, warm from the sun, and sat. The afternoon light bathed his skin. He had been too long in the dark. Before his imprisonment, he had conducted most of his business at night, but he never avoided the light entirely. While his ability to shift into a human-like appearance was better than average, he could relax at night and let poor lighting and shadows hide any anomalies.
How dearly he had missed the sun on his skin and the wind under his wings.
He flexed his shoulders, letting his good wing stretch. The lame wing hung limp and useless down his back. Mostly he did not feel its weight anymore. He knew the wing had atrophied. He was almost glad he could not see the membrane withered and inflexible from neglect. Even if the fracture healed, he would not be able to stretch the wing, and it would certainly never be able to support his weight. Only the deepest state of duramna would repair the damage.
Footsteps approached. Tas tensed, ready to alight quickly into the forest and disappear. Then he heard the humming.
Juniper really did need a bucket to carry a tune.
“Female, you are a menace,” he said.
“I’m trying to leave you alone, like you asked,” she said.
He could hear the worry in her voice. “But,” he prompted.
“But I’ve been thinking about what you told me. About your ship crashing in the Atlantic.”
He grimaced. The situation had not called for him to divulge such details, but a compulsion came over him. His first moments on Earth were filled with smoke and confusion, followed by saltwater and panic. Juniper did not need to know that, yet he had been compelled to blurt the information out.
Taken for Granite Page 8
