Entwined Realms Volume One

by Danielle Monsch

  Damn stubborn gargoyle. The only thing she had to fear was heatstroke.

  It was a gorgeous day, and in good news for her skin, there was a decent amount of cloud cover, though not enough to lose the cheer of the day. She was running on her favorite trail through the largest wooded park to be enjoyed while still within the city’s limits. She might not have left the city, but darned if she didn’t feel like she was in her own woodland habitat.

  Two men came from behind and sped past her, both at a pace much faster than her own ten-minute mile time. One turned and ran backward for a couple of moments, smiling and winking at her before turning around and catching up with his friend.

  Ha, ha! Still got it. Nice to know she could get a glance or two, being an old maid and all.

  Up ahead a tall woman in a red running bra and matching spandex shorts came running toward them, jogging in the other direction. Both men slowed as they stared at her, eventually tripping over each other’s feet.

  Larissa half expected to see their tongues in that mass of body parts. The men righted themselves and took off at top speed to finish their run.

  Her own oversize shirt and baggy shorts were a hell of a lot more comfortable than that red number. Who put lace edging on anything you were supposed to exercise in? That had to chafe.

  Who cared what those guys thought anyway. Neither of them were built. Compared to Terak they were pubescent boys, and no doubt Terak could bench press both of them with his tail.

  Terak…urgh.

  The last two weeks were the most disturbing of her life, and yes, she was including the week when she first got her period. She had been attacked by zombies, kidnapped by a gargoyle, had both a brother and a best friend who were acting suspicious, and a father who was still upset at her for asking questions about the security of the city.

  And she had a gargoyle protector she was starting to care about, maybe even like.

  Out of all the above, that last one kicked her hardest in the solar plexus.

  He had wings. And a tail. A tail.

  How the hell did this happen? Stockholm syndrome? Some power dynamic because she was the helpless little woman and he was the big, powerful gargoyle?

  No, it was because of his chest. No male should have a chest like that, and he never wore a shirt. Never, like they offended him or something. Maybe she should be grateful that at least he wore pants.

  No, she shouldn’t be.

  Yes, she should.

  Well…

  Back to chests. Terak’s was so broad it might take hours to explore every inch exposed. And that chest tapered to that stomach, which was not a six-pack but an eight-pack. What human had an eight-pack? How could a human guy compete?

  Gargoyles were very unfair to humans. Maybe she wasn’t right to help them become friendly with other races. All the other females of the various species would jump them on sight.

  But if any of them jumped on Terak, she’d have to tear the female’s hair out. To protect inter-races relationships.

  Was inter-races a word? Well, it was now.

  Sweat soaked hair fell into her eyes, and Larissa pushed the damp tendrils that clung to her forehead back into the mass of hair knotted on top of her head.

  Heatstroke. Had to be heatstroke causing these freaking thoughts. No matter how much Terak complained, she was never running in the afternoon again.

  Up ahead was the most delightful part of the run, a steep incline that always made her swear she would give up running every time she crested it. Turning up the volume, she forged ahead.

  The scream rent the air, the sound of feminine terror stopping her cold. Instinct had her turning before her brain could warn her it was a bad idea.

  A woman, the one in the skimpy running gear, six feet in the air and grabbed around the throat by…

  Oh dear gods…

  Orcs.

  Why hadn’t she fought her dad harder about the wards? But this… how was she to know this could happen? Orcs in the park, backlit by a hazy sun during an afternoon run where she should be safe.

  Her hands hung there, cold, numb. Her mouth opened, she knew it was open, but no sound was coming out.

  Orcs.

  “Not her.”

  They spoke? Those monstrous creatures could speak?

  And then one of them locked eyes with her. He threw his head back and roared, the guttural noise flaying her exposed nerves. The rest of the orcs turned their attention to him. He proceeded to point at her.

  “Her!”

  By the gods, me?

  No.

  No.

  Are you involved with the necromancers?

  But she wasn’t. Never, she’d never had anything to do with them.

  This couldn’t be happening.

  Orcs, larger even than Terak, their greenish skin oozing and oily, their heads misshapen, like someone used their skulls for batting practice.

  A dozen orcs now chasing after her.

  She was running, she was running even though she didn’t remember turning from them, branches flicking over her skin as she crashed through the wooded area. The ground vibrated from the force of the running creatures, creating an uneven surface under her feet.

  “Terak!” she screamed. She hadn’t seen him during the run, but he had to be here. He had to be. He promised he’d protect her and Terak, Terak would always keep his promises.

  She tore through the forest, bramble and brush scraping against her body with every step. Heavy footsteps were so close, the clang of metal and the rhythm of their stride gaining.

  This couldn’t be happening. She was a nobody, a nothing. This couldn’t be happening.

  A primal scream sounded from above and powerful relief surged through her body, stopping her in her tracks as she looked for him.

  Terak.

  He was here. She was safe.

  Terak’s arm emerged from the foliage up above. He grabbed the tallest orc and brought him into the air, wrenching his neck so hard to one side that Larissa heard the crack of bones.

  The orc stopped moving, and Terak threw the body far away, then dropped to the ground and grabbed another orc, his clawed hands ripping into its chest through the metal casing.

  The other orcs turned to Terak, all but one. One orc still had her in his sights. He shouldered through the others surrounding him, coming straight at her. Terak turned from the orc he was fighting to launch himself at that one, preventing it from getting any nearer to her.

  That move left his back unguarded, and another orc took advantage, taking its sword and slicing through Terak’s wing.

  Terak made no sound or movement to indicate he had been struck with a sword. He never stopped fighting the orc in front of him, keeping it from getting near her.

  She could get away. Now, while their attention was on Terak, she could run to her car on the other side of the wood and escape.

  An eye hanging from its socket.

  She had stood there, waiting for the zombies to grab her.

  If Terak hadn’t been there, she would be dead. Afterward he held her in his wings as she cried and he called her brave.

  I don’t want to die.

  I don’t want to die and I don’t know what to do.

  But I never want to be that person in the alley again.

  There had to be something she could do beyond run away in her car.

  Her car…

  She didn’t have a weapon but she had two thousand pounds of magic-fortified metal at her disposal. Could an orc survive being run over?

  Only one way to find out.

  Larissa ran to the vehicle. Her fingers shook as she turned the key in the ignition, but the car started readily. Snapping on her seat belt she jammed down on the gas pedal, then spinning the wheel so hard tires squealed.

  Her massive SUV took the grass easily, the bumps and dips rocking her in her seat. The trees were spaced apart far enough that the car was able to drive through the openings.

  The fight was in front of her. Severa
l orc bodies littered the ground, but three orcs still fought Terak. Terak was holding his own, but his chest and arms were swathed in large splashes of red and one wing was useless, the torn skin flapping in the wind.

  Larissa pressed hard on the gas pedal, aiming the car at the two orcs farthest from Terak.

  The orcs responded a second too late to the sound of an approaching car, lifting their heads as the car rammed into them. She rolled over them, sickening thumps and crunches that had her stomach begging to lose its contents. She clenched her teeth against the urge to vomit.

  One hand appeared from underneath and landed on her hood, and the face and shoulders of one orc came into view.

  Ahead was a thick line of trees. Pressing down on the accelerator, her body went tight, bracing for the expected impact as she headed straight for them.

  She closed her eyes before they hit.

  The airbag deployed at impact, pressed into her face so she couldn’t breathe, her nose flattened and her chest punched concave. The wait for it to deflate was eternity, but she pushed at it, speeding up the process the best she could.

  She turned the key, and thank gods the car started again. She put the car in reverse and made her way back to Terak.

  No more orcs were left alive. Terak had more wounds than before, blood streaming over a good portion of his body. He was erect but kept falling to his knees.

  She parked and rushed to his side. His right side seemed the least injured, so she propped herself under that arm to help him toward the car. “Your wing,” she said, though it wasn’t as if he needed her to point out the obvious. There was no way he could fly.

  What were they going to do? He wasn’t allowed within city limits. If they were caught driving in the city the authorities would take him into custody. Her too, but what would happen to her wasn’t the worry. If he was jailed the other gargoyles would attack to free him, stomping on the possibility of a peaceful coexistence.

  It had Disaster of Epic Proportions stamped all over it.

  Maybe it was time to call her father. He would be furious, but he would help Terak escape, considering the gargoyle had saved her life. Of course, she would have to tell him what was going on, and her father would lock her up before she finished telling him about that first night.

  But she couldn’t see an alternative. Terak needed medical attention and she couldn’t risk a fight between human and gargoyles. She owed Terak that and much more.

  “Terak, I’m going to call my father. I think he’ll help us. At the very least we need to get you to a hospital.”

  “No hospital,” said the gargoyle, sweat beading his forehead. “No father.”

  “I’m not a nurse. You’re wounded and in no shape to fly or fight, and if a gargoyle is seen within city limits, they’ll take you into custody.”

  “No father,” he repeated, breathing rapid, his voice reedy. He was going to pass out soon. She could convince him after she had him in the car, and she needed to get him there before he passed out. There would be no way she could handle his weight by herself.

  As she got him settled into the passenger seat there was a buzzing underneath her hand, a vibration so small she didn’t bother to look as it was occurring, focusing instead on the belt buckle. She turned to Terak…

  … And reared back, hitting her head on the inside of the car, the pain bringing tears to her eyes.

  Larissa’s eyes slid shut as her hands grasped the newly formed bump. Maybe she had seen wrong, but her eyes opened, and no, she hadn’t been seeing things.

  Instead of a gargoyle sitting in her passenger seat, now there was a human male – bare-chested and bloody, with black hair and stone-grey eyes.

  “Say nothing,” he said.

  Then he fainted.

  Chapter Eleven

  ‡

  Human.

  Human.

  Human.

  The words beat through her head with the same rhythm as her heart, which was currently doing double-time since she was carting two hundred and fifty pounds of a gargoyle-turned-human through her bedroom door.

  The bed lay before her, smooth sheets and fluffed-up pillows, and it might as well have been a mile away. “Terak?” she asked, but a pained groan was his only response. He was fading out of consciousness fast, and there was no way she could pick him up if he crashed to the floor.

  No way around it.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she muttered as she hefted his arm away from her and all but knocked him onto the bed.

  He upgraded from a groan to a yelp as his battered body collided with the mattress. “I’m so sorry,” she said again and again, the words on repeat as the maneuvering began to get him fully situated.

  Finally he was settled and the growly sounds diminished to only a few every minute. Larissa pushed her hair back from her face with both hands. A rising tide of panic was coursing through her body, starting low in her stomach and rising up her chest.

  No. That nonsense needed to stop. Panic was not allowed until after she got her gargoyle back.

  Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. Do it again. After this is over you better be prepared, Double Mocha Fudge Ripple, because you are going down.

  First she had to get Terak bandaged up. The first-aid kit was under the sink, so well-stocked a hospital could borrow it in an emergency. Only nurses appreciated a fully loaded first-aid kit more than a cop’s kid.

  Kit, check. She turned on the water and let it run for a few moments to warm up, then let a plastic basin fill while she grabbed a few washcloths.

  Terak gave a loud groan. She scooped up everything she needed and hustled back into the bedroom. The items were placed around her on the floor as she took stock of Terak’s injuries. Her goal was to bandage him up enough that when her next gargoyle protector came on duty, that gargoyle could then take Terak home, where his own people could heal him. Gods, please let him heal enough that a hospital visit wouldn’t be necessary. He might look human now, but who knew if he was as human on the inside? He might have extra organs or something that would give him away. And that was assuming they could actually survive the trip out the building to the car.

  Car! Crap!

  Since her gargoyle-turned-human protector had been bleeding out over her seat on the drive here, it was understandable little things like orc parts possibly caught in the bumper or a front end that had held a strong resemblance to an accordion were overlooked.

  No way could she leave Terak, and anyway taking the SUV to Cliff, the mechanic who usually worked on her car, was out. He’d be on the phone to her father in three seconds flat. Any body shop would, all of them by law were supposed to report anything suspicious.

  Right now what was needed was a friend who’d dump it somewhere and could be trusted to not blab, and only one person fit that description.

  On the second ring the woman on the other end of the phone answered, and before she could finish her “Hello?” Larissa started talking. “Olivia, I’m in trouble. Help me.”

  Olivia’s tone was soothing. “Calm down, sweetie. Of course I’ll help you. What is going on?”

  Thank gods for Olivia. “I need you to take my car away and not ask any questions.”

  Confusion burned through Olivia’s tone. “Take your car? To do what?”

  And now came the hard part. “I was chased by orcs. I had to slam into one to escape and now my car is messed up. Please, Olivia, I need you to come get it and hide it somewhere.”

  There was a long silence on the other end. Before Larissa hung up to dial again, Olivia spoke. “I know someone. I’ll get your car fixed for you. Don’t worry, there won’t be any questions.”

  Olivia’s voice was calm and low and apprehension skittered the length of Larissa’s spine at her friend’s words. This was not what she expected when she picked up that phone. “You… know someone? Olivia, what are you talking about?”

  “You said no questions, I’m going to say the same to you. We are going to h
ave a nice long talk later, but right now, where is your car?”

  “On the south side of the building.”

  “It’s taken care of. Don’t worry and I’ll call you tomorrow.” And Olivia hung up.

  Were there any more surprises ready to drop down on her head? If so, a little advance notice would be welcome, because the nice people at the mental hospital might give her a discount rate after a certain number of shocks to the system.

  Terak was still on the bed, his breathing not as labored as it had been. Picking up a washcloth, she ran it over his flesh, now a sun-kissed tone instead of stone grey. He slept through her ministrations.

  The wounds across his abdomen looked the worst. Cleaning them would reveal whether she could wait with him here or she’d have to brave the hospital.

  The washcloth cleared the blood away and a small giggle erupted from her throat.

  Relief caused some weird reactions, but after everything that happened today, a little giggle was a nice surprise. The wounds weren’t as bad as all that blood suggested. He still needed to be seen by a healer, but cleaning and wrapping the wounds would suffice for now. Her gargoyle was going to be fine.

  He was going to be fine, and the relief flooding through her system left her light-headed in its wake. She closed her eyes tight for a moment to regain equilibrium before opening them to continue with the cleaning.

  Through all wiping and bandaging he stayed asleep, even the groans becoming less frequent. And now, was that…a snore?

  Some bodyguard.

  His face was gentler now, softer. It wasn’t the human features that caused the change, though that helped. Asleep, he lost the worry and the authority he always carried otherwise.

  Not that the human features were bad to look at. The gargoyle made a damn fine-looking human. That had been obvious from the first moment he shifted, but it seemed impolite to ogle someone when they needed medical attention.

  His chest was done, now his…pants.

  Oh dear gods, she had to take off his pants.

  Did gargoyles wear underwear?

  Did they need to? Did gargoyle males have the same equipment…?