by E A Price
“Just… forget me,” he rasped.
“How can I?” she whispered. “I see you every night.”
Something inside him blazed to life, and Drago gently pushed her away, with the utmost care to ensure he did not hurt her.
Without another word, he left.
Chapter Twelve
Drago returned to the mansion, not even bothering to try and sneak in – he was too distracted for any subterfuge. Gracchus naturally spotted him dropping into the garden and scowled, but everyone else was too busy bustling around to notice him.
One of the advantages of being universally disliked was that no one ever sought his company, and he was free to do as he pleased. Which meant nobody had any clue when he left altogether. Well, apart from Annis – she had often found him and tried to entreat him into watching a movie with her or completing something called a jigsaw puzzle. But she had been too distracted by her new mate to pay him much mind recently. As Gracchus’ grumpy stare followed him, he considered that the male needed a mate to distract him, too.
“What is happening?” he grunted at Tristan.
“Kylie will attempt to wake the new gargoyles. A new brother and sister.” The male gave him a pleased smile.
Drago let out a small non-committal sound. He should be pleased. His race had been all but destroyed. He should be glad that they were managing to recover as many of his kind as they were. But lingering anger remained for the way he had been so casually burned by his old clan. They had thought nothing of abandoning him when he needed their help the most. Even his father truly had not tried to save him. His father knew him, knew he would never force a female, but he had not cared for Drago enough to overcome his disgust at him for taking Muriel as a willing lover.
Part of him still could not trust gargoyles anymore than he could humans.
But surely, he had nothing to fear from the golden-haired Martha?
Drago snorted loudly, garnering a curious look from Tristan. He stepped away from the younger gargoyle, trying to find a darkened corner in which to lurk and obsess over his own thoughts.
Luc led Kylie in the magical circle, one clawed hand on her waist and the other clutching her hand. He was virtually carrying her, and when they stopped, he started fussing over her coat and trying to pull the hood over her head.
Kylie lightly slapped his hands away. “I’m fine,” she snapped uncharacteristically. “Just give me some room to breathe.”
Luc narrowed his eyes at her but merely stepped away out of the circle. The other gargoyles and humans watched them with surprised interest, but Drago could care less what was happening with them.
“I see you every night.”
How could the female invade his every thought so thoroughly?
He had never shared dreams with anyone, as far as he knew no gargoyles could. They were creatures created by magic sure, but they didn’t have magic – they weren’t capable of creating dreams and sharing them. He heard tell that certain magical practitioners could, but his experience with magic was limited to what he knew from Kylie and her Aunt Bea. While Bea had very little magic, Kylie was a mere novice and generally blundered through the spells she cast without very much knowledge of whether she was doing it right.
Since waking, a few of Bea’s magical friends who had helped in raising Kylie had visited. Only for short visits and to meet the gargoyles – he was generally told to keep out of the way. But they were no more help than Bea or Kylie.
Maybe it was her – Martha. Maybe she had magic. Maybe she was doing it to lure him in.
But if she had magic she didn’t seem to be aware of it, and her fear seemed so real. Didn’t mean it was intoned a vicious voice inside him.
Drago shook his head. Didn’t matter, he’d probably never see her again anyway. It wasn’t like they were likely to run into one another on the street!
The thought made his chest tighter than it should. She was not for him, and he did not want her – he could not want her. But, at least he would see her in his dreams.
Kylie woke the two new gargoyles with very little fuss, and they were eagerly welcomed into the clan. Drago barely even noticed.
*
Drago felt the kiss even before he woke. The warmth of her soft lips pressing against his cold, stone mouth delighting him in a way he wouldn’t have thought possible while still stone.
He shuddered as he warmed, stone turning to living flesh and mere warmth exploding into lust.
“Hello, sleeping beauty,” teased Martha.
He chuckled and pulled her into his arms, burying his head in her shoulder. “You kissed me while I was sleeping.”
“I was impatient,” she admitted before gently biting his earlobe. “Still impatient.”
His claws raked down the back of her dress, easily shredding it.
“Drago!” she chided.
“There is no one here but us,” he murmured as he pulled the tatters of her clothes away.
Martha shivered slightly in the night air. “Kind of chilly out here.”
“I will warm you.”
She gave him a coy look. “You will if you can catch me.”
She skipped away out of his grasp giggling in delight, and with a lascivious growl he gave chase.
*
Martha awoke sweating; her breath came out in pants, and her skin tingled. She laughed as she recalled her dream.
Wow, just being chased around a garden by her creature had her hotter than she’d ever been with any of her previous partners.
Though, things were different now. Now, her dreams were even more potent because she knew he wasn't just made up. He wasn’t just some creature that had been invented by an overactive and romantically starved imagination. He was real, and even more incredible in person than in her dreams – which was saying something.
She sat up in bed and turned her bedside lamp on. Timber let out a yowl of displeasure as the motion woke him, but he was sleeping again within seconds. She tickled his ear affectionately, adoring the grumpy way he batted away her hand.
“Yeah, yeah, you need your sleep.”
Yep, sleeping twenty hours every day was such a hard life – he needed his rest.
One of her father’s journals rested on her bedside table. She placed her hand on it debating whether to read a few more pages or not.
Her trip to the cabin just raised more questions than it answered.
But at least she knew she wasn’t going mad. It was him. He had to be doing this to her. He was some kind of strange creature, and clearly, he was affecting her dreams. That had to be it – mystery solved. There was no other explanation as to why she had dreamed of a living creature.
Okay, so it didn’t really explain anything. She still had no idea how he was making her dream of him, but then she had no idea how a creature like him could exist.
When she was younger, she had happily accompanied her cousin Maggie on all her ghost hunting trips, happily tried to catch a leprechaun on St. Patrick’s Day and played along with all of Maggie’s séances. But that all changed when her father was committed. After that it was important to be normal – her mother told her over and over. There was no time for nonsense like having a sleepover in the graveyard to see if zombies came back to life. No, she had to be normal, had to appear perfect so no one would think there was anything wrong with her either.
Maggie had always believed in all kinds of supernatural creatures, and Martha, well, she was happy just to go along for the ride. She had just liked playing with Maggie. But that all changed and at her mother’s urging Martha started hanging around with Valerie and her friends – the kind of girls who made fun of girls like Maggie. She felt a momentary pang of guilt. Maggie had been her best friend at one time but after her dad… part of her just couldn’t stand to see the pity on Maggie’s face. Valerie felt no pity for anyone – ever. She was just easier to deal with. It also meant that Martha, in spite of all her friends in town, in spite of all her various relations, now felt lonelier than the last turkey in the
store before Thanksgiving.
Perhaps my creature is even lonelier she thought.
Her heart fluttered. What if he was the only one of his kind? She should have asked, not that she expected him actually to answer her. He didn’t exactly seem keen on sharing. Nevertheless, with annoyance, she realized her heart panged at the idea that he was out there on his own.
Whether or not she had believed in creatures like him was moot. He was alive – she had seen him with her own eyes, and somehow he was sending her dreams and making her think of him.
Perhaps this is what happened to her father. Perhaps a creature like him did the same thing, and it sent him crazy and made him kill someone…
Martha let out a growl of frustration, throwing back the bedsheets, making Timber squawk as they landed on him. She stomped to the bathroom and tossed cold water on her face.
The thought irritated her, but honestly, she just couldn’t work her way up to full-blown anger, because she really didn’t sense any malice from him.
She had spent twenty minutes in his company, and it was the most frustrating and tense twenty minutes of her life but… there had been something else there. Innately, she felt safe with him. She didn’t feel like he could hurt her. Not physically anyway.
Plus, he had saved her life. Why save her if he meant her any harm?
Her thoughts strayed to her dad again, and she shook her head sadly. Whatever happened to her dad, whatever pushed him to kill a random man, she didn’t think it was the fault of her mystery creature, but she couldn’t help but feel like he was somehow the cause of her dreams.
Martha dragged herself back to bed, settling a grouchy Timber on her chest, idly wondering if her creature dreamed of her, too.
Chapter Thirteen
Martha hovered on the sidewalk, garnering one or two strange looks from passersby – both tourists and townspeople. Two of her second cousins stopped to ask if she was okay and she shortly told them she was fine and asked them to move along. They did with matching shrugs.
It was hard to throw a stone in this town without hitting someone she was vaguely related to. Her mom only had two siblings, but she had ten cousins, and they had large families, too. Sometimes it was hard to keep track of everyone. She could trace her family back to the people who first formed the town of Devil’s Hang – a trio of sisters all reputed to be witches. Maggie always reveled in the knowledge that she was descended from supposed witches – even opening a magic gift shop and tearoom. Martha’s mother didn’t like anyone reminding her and went out of her way to be normal. Her dad, on the other hand, didn’t leave behind any family.
But this wasn’t the time to dawdle, pondering her gene pool. She was there for a reason.
After she had gone back to sleep, the sexy dreams of earlier were sadly banished, replaced by an awful one where she watched Joely’s daughter Daphne getting mowed down by a car. The girl wasn’t even in the street; she was standing on the sidewalk. The owner of the car dropped a cup of hot coffee over themselves and accidentally swerved, plowing into the unsuspecting six-year-old. It was true what they say – don’t drink and drive. Probably not in this context, but it applied. Joely’s scream was absolutely devastating, and it played over and over in her head until Martha completely gave up the ghost of trying to sleep and instead settled on her couch watching mind-numbing reruns until it finally reached daybreak.
She kept telling herself it was just a dream, nothing to worry about, but she still found herself hanging around the corner of the street where she imagined it happening. She couldn’t possibly forgive herself if it really did happen, and well, she wasn’t exactly functioning on a heck of a lot of sleep and honestly, being there was the only thing that made sense at that moment – so there she was.
Martha had already endured a couple of jokes about hanging around street corners – one from a bitter ex who she was once engaged to and the other from Maggie, but she barely heard them. All she cared about was stopping something that may or may not be about to happen. Probably not, but still, for peace of mind, she was there.
She gasped as she noticed Joely and Daphne walking down the street. Daphne was clutching a new looking bear and virtually trying to skip through the snow, a huge smile plastered on her face. Joely wasn’t that far behind in the happiness stakes; her face looked flushed and content.
Joely stopped to talk to the doctor, Daphne pulled at her hand, wanting to be free.
“Don’t go too far, Daffy,” called Joely, “and stay out of the street.”
Daphne giggled and danced a few steps away.
Martha’s insides went cold with dread. “Please no,” she whispered.
She saw the car coming – the red SUV. Saw the driver sipping at their drink.
Martha looked around. Did anyone else see it? Did anyone else know what was going to happen? Couldn’t anyone else feel the dread festering in her stomach?
Maybe she was wrong. Maybe nothing would happen. No, she couldn’t take that risk!
Just as the driver dropped their drink, Martha flew across the street, hauling Daphne into her arms and throwing them both out the way. Joely screamed, and the vehicle missed them by inches, barreling past them into a streetlamp as Martha’s momentum landed her with a thud against the front window of Bea’s antique store.
Martha panted as she looked down at the blinking Daphne, the child had no idea how close…
“Daffy!” screeched Joely, pulling her away from Martha.
Martha slumped slightly as the weight of the child was taken away, and a sudden throbbing started in her temple.
“Martha, can you hear me?” asked the soft voice of Dr. White.
“Huh?”
She tried to focus, but everything was a little fuzzy. Instead, she doubled over and vomited on the sidewalk.
*
Two new gargoyles, Ryia and Leo, were alive.
Leo was an elderly gargoyle and took the news of their new life fairly well. He had been a warrior for many years and had grown patient in his old age. Ryia, on the other hand, could easily be confused with a lit fuse. She was feisty and fiery just a gargoyle female should be, but Drago could care less.
He understood from overheard conversations with the other male gargoyles that the lack of females was a concern, but it was not one he had even considered. The idea of him ever mating and producing younglings was lost to him a long time ago, and he hadn’t considered the possibility that there may be a chance for him again.
Drago let out a huff. What female would want him? His angry mood swings and gruffness were hardly appealing.
“Did you dream about me too? I’ve been dreaming of you.”
He remembered the words, said so breathily while her cheeks turned pink. Surely her dreams were as erotic as his. Martha’s words stirred something inside him that was best left untouched.
Whatever she was dreaming about him would just be temporary. Undoubtedly, she would find a human male to marry and bear his young – if she hadn’t done so already. He did not realize he was snarling until Ingrede took a few cautionary steps away from him, frowning at him.
He shook his head and watched while Luc spoke to the two new gargoyles. Leo nodded sagely while Ryia sneered and growled. Luc’s wings flared, and he snarled at the female. She grudgingly inclined her neck in submission. She was quite strong willed, but not dominant to Luc. She would submit.
But, he knew that Luc would be warier of their new additions. They had thought Lief to be a loyal member of their clan, but he was nothing but a spy for Ophelia. Lief appeared to be woken by Kylie, and so they trusted him immediately. They were lucky he did nothing more than spy on them. Their guard was down around him; he could easily have tried to hurt them – even killed one of the humans hanging around the house. He suspected Luc was surprised that Lief did not do more. He could have killed Kylie and taken away their only way to wake new gargoyles. Clearly, Ophelia had the means to wake them, otherwise, how else would Lief have been awake?
He growled half-heartedly as Twenty-Six approached him. “What do you think of the newbies?”
He grunted in a non-committal answer. He didn’t think anything – they were just gargoyles. As long as they stayed out of his way, he didn’t care what they did.
Drago tensed as they were joined by more clan members - Castor, Grey, Tristan, Brom, and Annis. Gracchus and Ric were standing with Luc and the new gargoyles. He believed Luc would ask the two of them to watch the new additions to their clan, in case they proved themselves untrustworthy. Cai and Ingrede walked into the house with the humans, carrying their infant.
“I believe Leo will fit in well,” commented Annis.
Grey snorted. “The male’s half-dead, he’ll be no more use than you in a fight.”
Drago curled his lip at Grey, and the male took a tiny step away from him. In spite of how poorly he had been treating her, he still thought of Annis as his younger sibling. While he had not behaved towards her as he should, he did not like hearing anyone else behave badly either. He could forgive his own behavior much more easily than he could theirs.
Annis didn’t seem to notice, either way.
“I don’t know about her,” said Twenty-Six in disapproval, meaning Ryia. “Bitch tried to slap me earlier for standing in her way.”
“That is how real female gargoyles behave,” commented Grey with a censorious look at both Annis and Twenty-Six.
“I do not believe that to be a particularly good thing,” chuckled Castor. “Having females that would sooner chop your head off than allow you to woo them is hardly conducive to the continuation of our species.”
“You’ve changed your tune,” grumbled Grey, though not loud enough for Castor to hear.
“Perhaps she will calm over time,” suggested Tristan without much conviction.
“Perhaps she will disembowel me before she has the chance,” muttered Twenty-Six.
“She needs a good mating,” declared Grey. “That always calms a female and puts her in her place.”
He flinched ever so slightly at the accusatory glares both Annis, and Twenty-Six stabbed in his direction.
