by E A Price
“So what happened with her?”
“Nothing,” he snapped.
Martha believed that like she believed aliens had landed in Roswell. Actually, if gargoyles were real… a thought for another day.
“You broke up?”
Drago growled. “Something like that.”
“So she’s not around anymore?”
He finally looked at her, his red eyes boring into hers. “She has been dead for many years.”
Martha felt an inordinate sense of relief, and then guilty for being relieved.
“And you two were close?”
“For a while,” he muttered. “She always ached after, and found the cloth eased her.”
“I feel fine.”
“You are larger than she.”
Martha let out a sound of annoyance and sat up abruptly, dislodging his wing. He looked surprised, but not half as surprised as when she slapped his chest. He did not let out a sound of pain; she probably didn’t even figure on his pain scale – though her hand smarted from slamming against such hard muscle. But his eyes did narrow into a glare.
“What prompted that?” he asked in vexation.
She rolled her eyes. Human or gargoyle – the stupidity gene seemed present in all males. “First of all, mentioning an old girlfriend while you are in bed with your current girlfriend, is a big no-no. Second of all, telling your new girlfriend that she is fat in comparison to your old girlfriend is absolutely asking for a slap.”
His brow creased in mild confusion. “I did not call you fat.”
“You just said…”
“It is a fact that you are larger than Muriel.”
She held her hand up ready to slap him again, and Drago caught her wrist, frustration lacing his hard features.
“You are taller than she and your body…” His eyes grazed up and down her, lingering on her breasts. “Fuller.”
Martha sniffed. “How is that not…”
“Your body is fine,” he grumbled.
Martha couldn’t help her amusement at his exasperation, but she made sure to mask it. True, she wasn’t exactly pleased about the Muriel talk, but perhaps it was the absurdity of the situation that she found most humorous. “Fine, meaning…”
“For Merlin’s sake, woman.”
He was about ready to explode when Martha started laughing.
“What is so funny?” he asked suspiciously.
“You. Even when you’re being insensitive and moody, you’re kind of funny.”
Drago snorted. “You are a very strange and frustrating female,” he complained, “and you are not my girlfriend.”
Martha nodded, sobering immediately. “You’re right; I’m not.”
She edged away from him and his wary expression, clambering off the dangerously tilting bed, and scrambled to find her robe. He watched her movements closely. Martha could feel his eyes boring into her as she made a meal out of tying her robe.
“Maybe it’s time we had that talk.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“You sure you don’t want to go somewhere else?” asked Andrew, glancing around the diner.
The town diner did good food, but it was hardly impressive, and he was all for impressing his fiancée. Though, he couldn’t deny that Maggie was different to any of the women he dated before her. For one thing, she wasn’t impressed by jewelry, would rather have a flower he picked himself than an enormous bunch artfully arranged by a professional, and above all, she didn’t care about going out to fancy restaurants or clubs. She was down to earth, a little weird at times and in spite of her goth appearance, happy and joyful all the time. It was no wonder he loved her so much.
Maggie looked around, winking at Joely who was waitressing and beamed at him. “Nah, I love this place.”
Andrew took her hand and kissed the knuckles. “I love you.”
The smile almost cracked her face. “Besides, I just wanted to get out of the house.”
He grimaced. “Yeah, do you think we ought to be looking for Drago as well?” Luc and Gracchus had been beside themselves with fury at the huge male’s disappearance. They had considered that maybe he had been abducted, but that idea was quickly dismissed – nobody in their right mind would willingly abduct Drago.
“They’ll call us if they need us to do anything.”
Kylie was trying to scry for him, but she wasn’t getting anything, and given that he flew away, they didn’t have a trail to follow. For now everyone was just a bit tense, and they were glad to have a little reprieve from it.
Andrew flipped her hand over and kissed her wrist.
Joely sighed at them as she pelted menus in their direction. “Careful I don’t throw up over you.”
Maggie snickered. “Looks like Joely, talks like Brom.”
Joely gave them a rueful look. “Not just me, you should hear the things Daphne comes up with since I met him.”
“You’re sure she’s getting it from him?”
“I don’t know who else would teach her the words disembowel and gizzards.” Joely shook her head.
Andrew laughed. “Have you thought about moving up to the mansion to be with the rest of the clan? We have plenty of rooms.”
He felt Maggie run a hand up his leg under the table and almost jumped out of his seat when she reached his groin. The house and money were technically his, but he had essentially given them over to the clan. It was what his uncle would have wanted, and it was also one of the reasons that Maggie was so head over heels for him – his generosity. That and his cute butt as she liked to point out. Didn’t hurt to remind her of what a great guy he was, he didn’t want his fiancée running off with an enormous gargoyle.
Joely winced. “Yeah, I’ve barely known Brom for two weeks and we’ve already had half a dozen fights about me moving in with him. I just think it’s too soon, I mean what if it doesn’t…” He stopped and bit her lip. She was worried things wouldn’t work out between them, and then she and Daphne would be left homeless.
Maggie looked around to make sure no one was near. “His kind mate for life – literally until death do them part. They don’t believe in divorce. I’m afraid you’re stuck with him now.”
Joely blushed in pleasure to hear that and Andrew considered that there really was a lid for every pot, and a sweet woman for every crazy gargoyle.
“Even so, I’m not sure how I can move up to the mansion without people in town gossiping. I can’t think of a good reason for me to be up there. People are going to think it’s some kind of cult if a lot more people move in.”
“Who cares what people say?” said Maggie a little heatedly.
She was someone who used to streak through the town on full moons because she claimed it brought her closer to her witchy ancestors. She didn’t anymore because Andrew asked her not to and he got jealous about that kind of thing, but Maggie was not someone who gave two figs what other people thought or said.
“I have Daphne to think of, I don’t want her to be the weird kid at school.”
Maggie nodded grudgingly. Joely’s number one priority was her daughter as it should be.
“We’ll think of something,” said Andrew.
That earned him a stroke across his jean-clad member. His leg twitched, banging against the table but it was worth it. Another quality that Maggie liked was how calm he could be about everything. He barely batted an eyelid when he found out about gargoyles – he just accepted life as it came.
They all froze as Dr. White approached their table. She was smiling, though her expression was a little pinched.
“Hello all,” she said.
They murmured greetings and Joely told them she’d be back to take their orders in a few minutes.
Dr. White turned to Maggie. “Have you heard from your cousin in the last day or so?”
“Which one?” she laughed, “I have loads.”
“Martha.”
Maggie’s expression dimmed a little and Andrew knew she was slightly concerned as well. While the
two cousins were not close, he knew Maggie worried about her – particularly given that Martha was dating an ‘asshole wife beater waiting to happen’ – Maggie’s words.
“No, but that’s not unusual.”
Dr. White nodded and her expression clouded further. “I’m a little worried about her. Obviously, I can’t break doctor-patient confidentiality, but I’m concerned for her health, and given that she hit her head the other day…”
They nodded – saving Daphne. Andrew and Maggie had actually gone to Martha’s house to see her and check on her. Maggie had pounded on the door and shouted at her cousin to open up until she was blue in the face and her neighbor came out to say she’d gone away for a few days.
“She’s out of town for a couple of days.”
“Do you know where? I gave her some sleeping pills and I just want to make sure she’s not taking them if she’s suffering any recurring headaches.”
Maggie looked even more worried. “I think she went to Portland to stay with her boyfriend, but I’ll give her a call.”
She fumbled for her phone until Andrew wordlessly handed over his. She gave him a small smile of gratitude and quickly dialed. She managed to get Martha after a few rings and the relief was evident in their short conversation. She related what Dr. White said and hung up.
Dr. White’s mouth bunched and Andrew suspected that she would have liked to talk to Martha directly.
“She’s fine,” declared Maggie. “She just went up to her parents’ beach house for a few days.”
Dr. White smiled in relief. “Thanks for that, Maggie.”
“No problem.”
“Have a nice evening, you two.”
The doctor all but ran out of the diner.
Andrew frowned. “She seem a little off to you?”
“A little. She was only wearing eyeshadow on one eye and her shirt was buttoned up wrong.”
“Really?”
Maggie clasped his hand. “You didn’t notice? You could see her bra through the hole in her shirt.”
He shrugged. “Wasn’t really looking.” Nope, he only had eyes for his fiancée.
Maggie grinned and kissed him. Another reason she loved him.
*
Drago regarded the female in front of him carefully. He had insulted her, he could tell by the way she spoke to him, the way her eyes looked a little less sparkling, but he couldn’t say why she should feel insulted.
She did not seem to like him mentioning Muriel after he had taken her, and seemed almost outraged that he had merely pointed out the fact that she was larger than Muriel’s slight form, but he could not define why this would upset her. There was nothing wrong with her form. Since he started dreaming of her, he was most definitely of the opinion that she was the most attractive female he had ever seen. A thought confirmed when they met in person.
He did not desire small females, though she was still small compared to most female gargoyles. Females needed to be hearty and strong. If they were too small, too thin, how could they survive living out in the open? Indeed, a malnourished female gargoyle showed that the female was incapable of hunting – and male gargoyles wanted a female to hunt and fight as well as he. Well, most male gargoyles. The others who had taken human mates in his clan seemed content that their mates could neither fight nor hunt, and they did not consider that there was anything lacking in their mates.
Martha was tall, but she was also slim, though he did admire her fuller assets. Her breasts and rear were much more bountiful and appealing than Muriel’s or any female gargoyle’s he had ever seen. Why would she think he was insulting her?
Though, the real hurt appeared on her face when he merely pointed out that she was not his girlfriend. She had said she was, and he was just correcting her. She seemed annoyed by that.
Girlfriend was one of those strange human terms that seemed to be above friend and below wife. Gargoyles did not have a word for it. Either they had a mate, or they didn’t. There was no in between. They may couple with other female gargoyles, but that did not mean they were anything more to them than any other gargoyle in their clan
According to what some of the humans said, the process of having a girlfriend was to find out whether the male wanted to take a female as a wife. It was sort of a trial before mating and one that often ended badly. Or at least if Maggie’s rants were anything to go by it did.
No, gargoyles did not work that way. When they were ready to breed, they found the female they wanted and made a claim. Either it was accepted, and they mated, or it was rejected, and they would move onto another female. There was none of this dating garbage to get through. But for some reason, Martha had enjoyed calling herself his girlfriend
Was that what Muriel had been? His girlfriend? That gave him a start.
No, she wasn’t. While he had enjoyed their time, he had not felt emotion for her beyond desire. Though he could not help the nagging doubt that his relationship with her had been different to the times he had coupled with female gargoyles. It had not been perfunctory sex to serve a need; there had been something else with Muriel. Something that had led to a lot of pain, but something else.
He worried that Martha thought there was something else between them as well.
After she had made it disappointingly clear that she did not wish for him to bed her again, or at least not at that moment, she had insisted he dress, and she led him downstairs to the kitchen.
He had been reticent but had allowed her to feed him. The meat she provided was too warm and cooked for his liking, but he had not eaten in a while, and at that point, anything would do.
He munched on two enormous steaks, while she devoured the second bowl of cereal. He eyed her bowl with distaste. It looked more like food for a small herbivorous creature than a human – namely a rabbit.
“That is not enough food for you,” he grouched.
Martha swallowed and shrugged. “It’s fine. I got up late, so this is my breakfast.”
“You should eat something more substantial.” He held up the steak. “Some meat.”
He ripped it apart with his fangs, and she pressed her lips together.
“I’ll stick with my frosted flakes if it’s all the same to you.”
He wanted to say that he doubted they would give her enough energy for all the things his racing mind wanted to do to her, but he wasn’t sure if that would be welcome. Besides, he should not be thinking of that again. He should not be bedding another human. He had been weak and had allowed his desire to take over – desire that had been growing for more than a thousand years, but he needed to stop the madness now.
“Last night,” she started, and she looked up to meet his eyes.
“Was a mistake,” he finished. Even as his senses screamed at him that he was wrong, he said it.
He expected another flicker of hurt, but she merely raised an eyebrow. “You can think that if you want, but I haven’t felt this good in months.”
Her defiant response flustered him ever so slightly. “We should not, we cannot… I thought I scared you?”
Martha looked at him incredulously. “After last night? After everything you’ve done to me you really think I’d be scared of you?”
He shifted uneasily in the chair, and it creaked ominously. It was a sturdy enough chair but hadn’t been built with seating a gargoyle in mind.
“What scares me is that I’ve been dreaming of you for months and you turn out to be real.” Martha pushed her bowl away and looked out the window for a few moments. “How did you know I’d be here, anyway?”
He said nothing, merely chewed on the steak bone noisily.
“You dreamed it, didn’t you? Dreamed where I would be.”
“I was not asleep,” he answered evasively.
No, he had a flash of her in distress during the day, and when he set out, he instinctively knew where she was, just as he had the night of the accident. He could not say how he knew where she was, just that he had – more than once now.
M
artha rubbed her cheeks. “How is this even possible? Have you ever shared dreams with anyone else before? Is this a normal gargoyle thing?”
“I have never dreamed like this before. I do not know if others of my kind have.”
Her eyes took on an eager, interested glint. “So there are others like you out there? How many? Do you know them all?”
He grunted. He could not reveal the clan to her. He felt that he could trust her, but all it would take was a small slip on her part, and the knowledge of his kind would be revealed, and they may all be in danger. He had no great love for his clan, but he would not needlessly put them in danger.
Martha could tell he wasn’t going to answer and got up and put her dish in the sink. She turned back to him. “You like ice cream?”
“What?” Her question threw him off guard.
“Do you like ice cream?” she repeated just as brightly as before.
He gazed at her suspiciously. “I do not know.”
“You might; it’s delicious – I have cookie dough flavor.”
She puttered around the kitchen getting new bowls, a spoon and finally a huge tub of the ice cream.
“You are much more relaxed than before,” he said, his eyes drawn to every movement she made.
“Like I said, I feel better than I have done in months. Jeez, if I’d known all it would take was sex…”
His hand shot out before he knew what he was doing. He clasped her wrist just as she was about to dip the spoon into the ice cream. Her expression was questioning, but there was no fear there.
Drago wanted to tell her he didn’t want her near other men, never mind allowing any of them into her bed. Wanted to tell her he would kill any man who even tried to touch her the way he had less than an hour ago, but he restrained himself, freeing her wrist and muttering something unintelligible.
He had no hold over her, didn’t want one in fact. She was not his mate; it was not his place to tell her what to do, and yet he wanted to.
“I’ve been taking sleeping pills since I was a kid,” she explained. “Then a few months ago they just stopped working, and I started…” She looked at him shyly before concentrating on her ice cream. “I started dreaming of you… amongst other things. I felt like I was going crazy, but now… I don’t know. I just feel better.”
