“I’m sorry if I frightened you. I have kept quiet during the day to allow you to adjust. Was I right in doing so?”
“You’re real.”
“You made me real.”
“How does stone live?” Meino asked, unwittingly reaching out slowly to touch the Gargoyle’s surface. It held up its hand to meet his, and he shrank away, but it didn’t seem in a hurry or want to force him. It merely lowered its hand again. Meino gathered courage and tried again, and it reached for him again. At the brush of something soft and warm, Meino snapped his hand back, gasping.
“Does it feel wrong to you?”
“No. Like... you feel like human skin. How’s that possible?”
The Gargoyle held up its hand and looked at it. Meino saw fingernails and stepped closer, once again reaching for the hand, and the Gargoyle let him take it to inspect.
“An Angel gave me consciousness to be able to warn the people I was made to protect. I guess he is my father.”
“And your mother?”
“Earth. Gaia. She made the stone I was carved from. Maybe I have two fathers? One to give me consciousness, and one to give me breath.”
Meino looked up at the magnificent creature, noticing that it wasn’t symmetrical, just like a human face wasn’t. But enough to keep the word beautiful. “Would I be that second father?”
“Yes.” The Gargoyle smiled, cocking his head.
“No, I... don’t think I’m old enough to be someone’s father.” Meino returned his attention to the hand in his, and he was struck by just how human it looked. The nails, the cuticles, even the lines in the palm so individual to people were there. “Are you immortal, then? Since you’re made of stone?”
“No, stone can break. If I lose... say, an arm, I would become stiffer because of less energy. The spell does make me harder to break, though. Harder than the Angel already made the stone.”
“How does all this work?”
“I don’t know of the spells, only what they do to me. I was made to watch and warn. While in stone, I can only speak to you in your mind. Your spell allows me to interact at night.”
“Why only at night?”
“Because I am a watchman.”
“Do you have a name?”
“No.” The Gargoyle returned its attention to its hand. It sounded sad. “Never being able to interact with the ones I protect, I have never needed one.”
Meino looked at the immense being, thinking what would suit it. “Burkhart. A fortress or... protection and... strong and brave.”
The Gargoyle looked up, and Meino finally saw that its eyes were no longer the stiff stony ones he’d looked into as a child. They were still stone and looked like stone, but both iris and pupil were easily distinguished, since the many colors and nuances were... lively. The iris looked like green polished marble. The Gargoyle’s lips with a tinge of red marble turned up in a smile.
“I would feel honored to be named as your strong and brave protector. I shall not fail you.”
“What did my spell do to you, exactly?”
“It awoke me to walk by your side.”
“To protect me?”
“Who could need me more than an orphaned child?”
Meino marveled that the Gargoyle remembered his wording from back then. “But I’m not a child anymore. I haven’t been a child for many years now.”
The Gargoyle’s smile fell. “So you have no use for me now? You are no longer alone?”
“Oh, I’m still alone,” Meino said, backing further into the room before turning his back to the Gargoyle to find his seat on the sofa. He noticed his fork on the floor and tried to remember if the fork had been empty. By the looks of the floor under the heater, it hadn’t been.
“No, you’re not alone,” Burkhart said. “Not anymore.”
Meino found the egg and collected it with a paper towel. The Gargoyle’s statement made him smile. “No. I guess I’m not.” He sat back up, dumping the paper towel on the empty plate along with the fork. “Sorry, bad host here, I’m not used to visitors. Do you want anything?” Meino got up, collecting his plate and becoming very conscious about the mess he lived in.
“I am made of stone, so I have no need for sustenance.”
“Oh.” Meino stopped to look at the Gargoyle. “But stones usually don’t have tongues to speak with either, and don’t walk around.” He couldn’t stop a goofy grin from spreading. The Gargoyle smiled, too, revealing teeth. And they looked white.
“I can see how it could confuse.” The Gargoyle—Burkhart, Meino reminded himself—looked around the room. “You have a small home.”
“Yeah, well, I work most of the time in my garage downstairs.” Meino made his way to the kitchen.
“The car?”
Meino looked up.
“I heard yours and your father’s conversations. About traveling, about the car. The Charger.”
“How could you hear of it if I hadn’t said the spell yet?”
“Because the Angel had already made me conscious.”
“And I gave you breath. But if you don’t need sustenance, do you... have lungs? Need air?”
“No. I have no heart, either. Physical heart. You would not hear it beat if you put your ear to my chest, but breath is soul. Your soul animates me.”
“I gave you a piece of my soul?” Meino made his way back to the book and picked it up.
“Not a piece, no. Your soul is still in you, but it includes and gives life to this matter as well as your own body. It binds us, which allows me to speak to you inside your head.”
“So what happens when I die?”
“I return to the state of solid stone.”
“Oh.” Meino dropped down on the couch again. “You wanna sit?”
Burkhart looked around and finally removed a few clothing items from the armchair opposite the sofa before sitting down. The chair groaned in protest, and Meino figured the Gargoyle must weigh a ton. And why wouldn’t he, if he was made of stone? It was difficult to wrap a mind around how human it looked as it sat there in nothing but a loincloth. The wings were the only feature to definitively place it as something other. That, and the marble nuances of the being. The wings were spread to drape over the sides of the chair’s armrests, and the skin had a leathery look to it as it bundled. He could see the lower legs better, and they arched back on the middle of the calf, giving Burkhart’s legs the look of something animalistic. His feet had only three toes on each foot, each toe ending in a powerful-looking claw. The Gargoyle sat awkwardly, and Meino wondered whether it was because of the anatomy of its lower extremities.
It occurred to Meino that he was staring, so he cleared his throat and looked away.
“You no longer feel afraid of me.”
“No, just... might be the shock, because I’m having trouble.”
“I hope you will get used to my presence soon. Who do you need protection from?”
“No one.”
“Then what use do you have of me?”
“I guess I wanted a companion.”
“Still?”
Meino sat back, thinking. He finally nodded, because he had isolated himself. His aunt and uncle had mentioned it, and his cousins had tried to get him to go with them out at night. He had a few times, but he had no interest in sitting at a bar or a disco and have his cousins flirt with every skirt there while pushing an endless number of women his way for company, probably because they felt bad for leaving him parked like some third wheel. He’d never even told them he was gay. He’d been with a few women, but never a man. Preferring the company of a car was not healthy, they said. He disagreed.
“What do you like doing?” Meino asked.
“Like? I watch.”
“Yeah, but, that’s like me washing the floor of my garage. It’s what has to be done, but... what do you like doing?”
“Well. I have been in that crypt for almost eighty years, and only rarely have people
walked closely enough for me to see them. I liked your father’s stories, though. I had forgotten how big the world is, and there are parts I had never heard of. I liked hearing you laugh and talk about your dreams. After you had said the first part of the spell, I began to dream.”
“About what?”
“About seeing the world with you. Now that your father couldn’t accompany you, I dreamed that you would take me on an adventure.”
“Don’t think you fit in the Charger,” Meino said, grinning. He loved the playful expression on the Gargoyle’s face when he spoke of the adventure. “It was always my plan to drive the car around Europe. That’s one of the reasons this place is so sparse. I save all my money for gas and Bed and Breakfast places.”
“Oh.”
“Eighty years? How old are you? How do you tell time in a dark place like that?”
“I see beyond the walls. But I’m four hundred-sixty-three years old. The Angel created me to watch an Order until war moved closer. We were hidden for safe keeping, and the Order member fled. He was killed.”
“Sorry.” Meino contemplated the huge number. “So, you watched the world from there?”
“I can see a radius, nothing more. And there wasn’t a lot around the old church. Flying here was quite the learning experience. Humanity has become very noisy.”
“Flying here? You can fly?”
“Yes. Would you like to come?”
“Flying?” Meino exclaimed. Burkhart nodded. “No! It’s... I suffer from acrophobia.”
Burkhart didn’t comment, and Meino felt awkward about the Gargoyle’s silence and its observing nature—at least when he was the one being observed.
“So... now what? How does this work?”
Burkhart smiled. “You live your life, and I make sure no one comes close to hurt you.”
“Sounds boring.”
“What would you like to do?”
“Well, now that I got my creeps under control, I... usually work on the Charger.”
“It is a nice car.”
“Have you seen it?”
“I can see it from here.”
Meino raised his brows. “How?”
“I don’t see through my eyes. I see from my being. In all directions at the same time. Walls do not matter.”
“Handy,” Meino mumbled, wondering how that worked. “Do you hear the same way?”
“Yes. My senses have a reach of about a hundred meters on grounds without magic. It can be more if necessary.”
“So, you can hear the neighbors talking?”
“Yes.”
Meino nodded, thinking, but nothing clear came to him. “Wanna come with me downstairs to the garage? See the Charger up close?”
“I would like that, yes.”
Meino got up and showed the way. The huge being barely fit through the doors. “My life has always been kind of lonely. Since dad died, anyway. But, unlike what my family thinks, I’m not really lonely. Working on this car, I can still hear dad sometimes. Telling me about the car, the tools... what to remember when starting in on something.”
“Is this the first car you are restoring”
“No, I practiced on a few others. Bodywork wasn’t something we learned a lot of as a mechanic, so I played around with that myself. The first car didn’t pan out as nicely as I had wanted, so I sold it as scrap. It’s an art form. Like any artist, I had to learn the basics before moving onto a masterpiece. She’ll be my first masterpiece.”
“I will watch over her as I do you, then.”
Meino smiled at the big Gargoyle. “Not that this part of town is dangerous. I appreciate it, though.”
“It will be,” Burkhart said while looking at the Dodge.
“What? What do you mean?”
Burkhart looked up. “They are still looking for me. For us. The ones we were hidden from. They sense the magic you moved, and they will come looking for you. For the spell.”
“Oh, shit. Can you stop them?”
“I will do everything in my power to do so. Even fly you away, despite your fear of heights.”
“Oh... well, if people come here for me, I’d appreciate it.”
“Until then...” Burkhart ran his hand over the chassis. “I think orange would be nice, too.”
Meino blinked, but then he remembered his conversation with the customer. Burkhart really didn’t miss anything. That made Meino smile, and he picked up where he’d left off, fixing the brakes while telling Burkhart about his plans for the car once it was done.
Chapter Five
Lounging around in the shadows, Lucien felt bored watching Nathan sleep. His young master had finally gotten back into the rhythm of sleeping as soon as he came back from classes so he could be up with Lucien after dark. How could he not feel grateful that his master took such consideration? Nathan being more than his master certainly had something to do with it.
While waiting for Nathan to wake up, Lucien once again wondered what his life would be like if Nathan ever managed to break the curse that banished Lucien to the shadows at daytime. Would he have a job? Would they fall into the humdrum rhythm normal couples lived where both pursued the material expectations of life? In many ways, he wanted to stay the way he was, but he missed sleeping. He missed being able to just cut a few hours from the day. He wondered whether the need to keep Nathan safe would change. He had no illusions it wouldn’t, but he also thought his love for the man would mean he would continue to try to protect him.
He’d just be better at it. The scar down Nathan’s leg was a constant reminder that he had failed, yet every time Lucien would sink into despair of having failed in his duties to protect and run his fingers over the scar, Nathan would kiss his worries away. Would he stop feeling so guilty if the curse was broken?
The sun was setting, and Lucien smiled at soon being able to be with Nathan again. Tomorrow was Friday, and they’d go eat at the restaurant Lucien had picked.
The alarm clock broke his thoughts, and he chuckled at seeing Nathan swing an arm out from under the duvet to slap the noisy thing. He groaned and shuffled under the duvet again, leaving barely an unruly lock of hair sticking out.
The sun set and released Lucien into the material world. He pulled off his shirt and pants to crawl under the covers with Nathan, who purred and pulled him closer.
“Now this is a good way to wake up.”
“Thought you’d like it,” Lucien said, caressing his back. “What was that heavy sigh you let go in the middle of Latin all about?”
Nathan snickered.
“Sounded like you drew your last breath or something.”
“Flying carpets is so boring, I might as well have.”
“Worse than Greek vases?”
“Worse. By miles. It’s like whatever that teacher finds, it sucks the joy out of reading.” Nathan rarely sounded so downhearted about a book, and Lucien almost felt sorry for him.
“Well, I have an idea.” Lucien scurried under the blanket and further down.
“What are you doing?”
“Seeing if I can suck the sad out of you.”
Nathan purred. “Oh. I like that idea.”
Lucien pulled Nathan’s briefs down and licked up the hardening length.
Someone knocked on the door, making Nathan roar in frustration. Lucien fought his way out from under the duvet, grinning at Nathan’s colorful expletives. Nathan got up and packed himself away on his way to the door.
“I can get it,” Lucien said.
“No, my mood is already out the window,” Nathan groused and ripped the door open. “Jenny!”
“Of course,” Lucien mumbled and flopped down onto the bed, propping himself up to give her an evil stare once she entered.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Jenny said, and the subsequent rustle had to mean Nathan had let her in.
Ethan came in and glanced at Lucien, his eyebrows shooting up. “Jenny, I think we interrupted something, becaus
e Lucien is in bed, too.”
“Not a word, Jenny!” Nathan warned, and Lucien lost the death stare at the thought of what Jenny would have said. The woman was anything but coy.
Jenny came in and smiled at Lucien. “They’re both half dressed, Ethan, we didn’t interrupt yet.”
“Yes, you did.” Nathan jumped back under the duvet, fighting to cover both himself and Lucien.
“Get out of bed!” Jenny placed her hands on Nathan, pushing him down onto the mattress, so both he and Lucien bounced around. “I’ve been traveling for God knows how long, so I think you should show me around the grounds. Lucien can show Ethan around at least twenty meters away and not eavesdrop.”
Nathan stopped struggling. “I got a letter from Mr. Severin a few days ago.”
“Yeah, it’s about that.” Jenny stepped back, and Nathan untangled himself.
“Okay, okay, I’m coming!”
From that, Lucien worried. “Jenny, is Nathan in danger?”
“No, no, it’s something else in the Order. Just something happening that we need to keep our eyes open for.”
Lucien nodded. Nathan and Jenny might know each other better than most siblings would, and their friendship was old and close enough for them to almost be, but they’d both said the same thing without using the same wording. Lucien took that as a sign that they hadn’t been instructed and thus weren’t hiding anything that should trouble Lucien’s mind further.
Nathan turned to lie flush against Lucien, pulling him close. “Well, looks like we’re going to have to wait for your attempt to suck the sad out of me,” Nathan whispered and kissed Lucien before rolling out of bed.
Lucien smiled and sat up, finding his own clothes. Once they were both dressed, they left together.
“I want to show you the pond back here. I love that place,” Nathan said. Jenny hooked her arm through Nathan’s, and they walked ahead. Lucien and Ethan trailed behind far enough to give the two some privacy.
Gargoyle Rising Page 4
