When a Gargoyle Awakens

by Price, E A

  It was a fairly warm night; fairy lights had been hung out on the patio. Not as far as the garden, though. No amount of twinkling, pretty lights could compensate for that jungle.

  Andrew Hardcastle was quite the host, at turns charming, at turns polite and someone who actually listened and asked follow up questions. Did Andrew care that people were ignoring the law about picking up dog waste? Doubtful – but he listened to the head of the town council complain about it all the same. Shame his fiancée wasn’t quite as charismatic. She was less of a hostess and more of a decorative bauble. Not that the men in the room seemed to notice. While she let out bored little sighs, the men entertained themselves staring at her incredibly low neckline. It wasn’t fair that she was tall, slim and had enviable tatas.

  With the exception of Bea, Kylie reckoned that the whole town had shown up – even three-quarters of the police force. The last quarter was an Alsatian called Bob. Presumably he’d been left manning the station. Or dogging the station.

  Balancing her plate of food and her glass of champagne, she skirted around George, who owned the grocery store and Myrna, the town librarian. They were standing next to each other, pointedly not talking or touching. They’d been having a secret love affair since before Kylie arrived in town. However, they were determined to keep it a secret. She didn’t know why. They were both in their late forties and both divorced – there was nothing stopping them from being together. But, they were both well liked in town, so everyone played along and pretended they didn’t know. And everyone knew about them. If last month's library fundraiser was anything to go by, they’d be making out in a closet before midnight.

  There were quite a few people there she didn’t recognize, too. She chose to stay out of their way. They were tall, snooty and toned. They were all cut from the same cloth as Lara and didn’t seem inclined to mingle with any of the townspeople.

  The house sure was starting to look good, though. No offense to the professor, but the uncluttered and clean look suited it. All the expensive looking paintings and sculptures were still there, but instead of idly lounging on the floor or hiding under old newspapers or acting as hat racks, they were displayed so guests could gush over them.

  Kylie, with her hands full, made sure no one was watching and sucked a cube of cheese off her plate right into her mouth.

  “Hi, Kylie.”

  She almost choked on the cheese as Gary appeared at her elbow. He didn’t seem to notice. But then, he was already swaying slightly. Clearly he was enjoying the champagne a little too much.

  “Having fun?” he asked and then continued without waiting for a reply. “You should have told me you were coming, I would have escorted you.”

  Kylie shrugged in what she hoped was body language for ‘get bent’. “I came with Maggie.” She looked hopefully in the direction Maggie had disappeared, hoping that pure psychic willpower would have her scampering back to save her. Yeah, right.

  “I was wondering if you wanted to…”

  “Gary,” said Kylie, in a pained voice. Was he really going to ask her out again? Here? Couldn’t she get a day off?

  “Having fun?” drawled a smooth voice that made her tingle.

  Holling appeared in front of them, looking absolutely edible in a well-cut black suit that hugged his wide shoulders and slim waist. His normally slicked back hair was wavy, perhaps his only concession to the relaxed attitude of the party. He had been in and out of town numerous times over the past few weeks and Kylie, along with nearly every other woman with a pulse, had shamelessly ogled him. She had tried a couple of times to accidentally happen to be where he was, but then so had the other women. When it came to trying to run into him at the grocery store, there was a queue around the block.

  “Gary, I think Lara wishes to speak to you about obtaining some lobsters,” he said in a bored way.

  Gary’s eyes lit up, and he quickly excused himself. Kylie forced herself not to sigh. She wasn’t interested in Gary – of course – but it wasn’t exactly flattering to know that she was less appealing than lobsters.

  Holling looked her up and down, and Kylie desperately wished she had a spare hand to smooth her skirt, or her hair or anything else that needed smoothing. “Enjoying the party?” he asked as his eyes alighted on her very full plate of food. What was she thinking? You should never eat at parties. Damn, delicious food!

  “Oh, yes, it’s very nice,” she mumbled. Perhaps she could pretend she was just holding the food for a friend. Furtively she pushed her plate onto a bookcase.

  He leaned closer to her and Kylie held her breath in nervous anticipation. “Your skirt is tucked into your underwear,” he whispered.

  “Oh? Oh!” Kylie quickly righted her dress and wished to every deity imaginable to either make her invisible or strike her down dead. She didn’t mind which at that moment.

  Holling didn’t seem to care. He scanned the room, disinterestedly. “You here with a date?”

  “Well, I…” Kylie glanced over at Maggie, who had returned and was currently murdering the buffet table. Her previous young man was nowhere to be seen and she had attracted a new one with a prominent Adam’s apple. “I came with a friend.” Color rose to her cheeks.

  “So there is hope for fishy Gary?” he smirked.

  The color became a full-on blush. “I’m single, but no, there’s no hope there.”

  Holling nodded. Kylie had the vague feeling that he was flirting with her. But it wasn’t the usual kind of flirt, it was more like a gut reaction to anything in a skirt or perhaps a reflex to boredom.

  “How long have you known Andrew?” she asked, politely.

  “About eleven months.”

  “How do you know him?”

  He gave her a patient smile. “Through Lara. We’ve been friends since we were children.”

  “It’s very kind of you to come here and give up your time to help him sort out his house.”

  His lips quirked in amusement. “I take care of my friends.”

  “You arrived very quickly after the professor’s death,” she noted. “Or were you here before then?”

  Holling graced her with a chilly smile, and his eyes hardened. “Excuse me, I believe Lara is trying to get my attention.” Sure enough, Lara was glaring at them and clicking her fingers together as if she were in a restaurant waiting to be served. Or at least, as if she were in a restaurant waiting to be served spit soup.

  Kylie let out a breath. Perfect, just perfect. She had the undivided attention of the hottest guy in the room, and she acted like she was interrogating him. Not to mention the skirt in the panties incident. Yeah, there was a reason she hadn’t had sex in so long. She was pure man repellant.

  She downed her drink and snagged another flute of champagne. The room felt so warm; she started to feel dizzy. An open patio door called to her, she could feel the breeze reaching toward her, curling around her.

  Yes, a bit of fresh air would be good, and perhaps a walk in the garden.

  Chapter Nine

  “Kyyyyyyyy – hic – lieeeeeeeeee!”

  Kylie groaned at the slurred and almost indecipherable call. She ducked into the overgrown hedge maze and bit her lip as the twigs scraped over her bare arms.

  “Kyyyyyyyyyyyyyyllllliiiieeeeeeeeeee!”

  It was even louder and even drunker than before. Lord, God and Superman save her from arrogant, pervy drunks. Gary had clearly imbibed even more alcohol since they last spoke and had decided to follow her out into the garden.

  Gary let out a Ky but then halted, and the unmistakable sound of him hurling into some unsuspecting shrubbery replaced the wailing of her name. Kylie wobbled slightly on her heels and cursed the third glass of champagne she had indulged in. Never mind the fourth glass still clutched in her fingers. Perhaps she ought to have left that in the house.

  The sound of a loud belch wound its way to her, and Kylie bit back a sigh of disgust. “Kylie, where are you?” His voice was now a plaintive whine.

  At least he was
drunker than she was. With dubious dexterity, she managed to slip off her shoes and delved further into the maze. Gary wasn’t a bad guy. But good guys tended not to remember this when they were hammered. And Gary wasn’t exactly a good guy – he was an okay guy, and he didn’t seem to be able to take no for an answer when sober. Inebriated, she didn’t want to find out what he thought no meant. Probably ‘take me, I’m yours’. Best not to tempt fate.

  She felt her way through the maze, her legs seeming to know the way automatically, and still clutching the half-full champagne flute.

  Gary called her name a few more times, before harrumphing. “Fine, bitch, plenty more – hic – fish in the sea.”

  Kylie snorted. Well, he would know, being a dedicated fishmonger. She didn’t have any problems with fishmongers in general. But this one's first girlfriend was probably a sturgeon. And the sturgeon got the crappy end of the deal in that relationship. She heard his tromping footsteps retreating to the house, or perhaps to a pond to find the new object of his affections.

  Her body sagged a little in relief, but her feet didn’t stop moving. As if independent from her brain, they moved, seemingly knowing where they were going. She was glad they did because Kylie had no clue. The evening had been a washout. She’d managed to spend half the evening with her skirt tucked into her panties, made an ass out of herself in front of the most handsome man to hit Devil’s Hang since probably the dawn of time and had been chased into a hedge maze by Gary the fishy pervert. Whatever the night had in store for her next could only be a welcome relief.

  Kylie gasped as she found herself in the center of the hedge maze. There it was. Or rather, there he was. Naturally he hadn’t moved a stone muscle since the last time she had accidentally stumbled upon his resting place. He sat in the middle of the clearing, focused on cold, contemplative thought.

  “We meet again,” she murmured to the gargoyle and then let out a self-conscious giggle. She wasn’t someone who was prone to talking to inanimate objects, or even pets. Her Aunt Bea was prone to talking to everything that happened to be close at hand, from her cell phone to her knitting. Kylie had put it down to the quirkiness of age, but here she was doing the same thing.

  But, this was different, wasn’t it? What had Professor Hardcastle called him? Special. Too special to be placed on the house for fear that he might be damaged. So special that he had to be kept out here where few people would see him. Yet, why not keep him in the house if he was so important? Something to do with needing sunlight - Kylie hadn’t really paid that much attention to the professor.

  She dropped her shoes to the ground and circled around the statue. Her eyes took in the ridged horns on his large head, much more square and solid than a human’s. His body was much bigger too and not just because massive wings framed his body. It was like he was designed to be at least an eighth bigger than a regular human. His hands and feet ended in sharp looking talons and his tail curled around his feet. She probably shouldn’t have noticed – lord knows why her mind even went there – but she saw that he was wearing a loincloth and nothing else. She called herself a deviant and moved on.

  Gingerly, she placed a hand on a stone bicep and bit her lip. “Why are you so fascinating?” she mused, aloud.

  She shook her head. She was doing it again. Talking to herself, or rather talking to him like he was real. Maybe she was losing it. Maybe all the stress of losing her fiancé, her job and her home was all finally coming crashing down on her, and she was finally cracking. She’d been strong and stoic about everything up until that point. Taking everything with grace and dignity, but now, finally it appeared that she was up the crazy creek without a paddle.

  Kylie felt tears welling in her eyes and desperately tried to blink them back. She didn’t want to cry and mope, and not just because her mascara wasn’t waterproof. She just wasn’t the type to lament her poor fortune – she always tried to make the best of things.

  But damnit, why should she? Wasn’t she deserving of some self-pity? Her little lot in life hadn’t been all that much, but it had been hers, and it was so… so… unfair that she had lost everything. How could her asshole fiancé and best friend have done this to her? Didn’t they feel any love for her? Any compassion? Clearly not.

  Hell, what had she ever seen in that dickhead? “You’d never do that to me, would you?” murmured Kylie to the statue before gulping back the almost forgotten champagne still clutched in one fist.

  She dropped the flute to the ground; it dropped harmlessly into the overgrown grass. She felt a lightheaded giddiness that wasn’t altogether unpleasant. In fact, it was quite soothing. It made her wonder why she didn’t drink alcohol on a regular basis if this was the freeing effect it had. All the crushing sadness that had reared its ugly head a second ago was being drowned by the bubbles of the champagne.

  “Screw them!” she declared. “They don’t deserve me. No, I deserve better,” she babbled, in a convinced voice that could only come from someone who was verging on totally wasted.

  Kylie stood in front of the statue and stifled a hiccup. He wasn’t handsome in the way you would call humans handsome, but he was certainly striking. She placed both of her hands on his cheeks; the cool stone was pleasant under her touch. “No fiancé to kiss me,” she slurred, slightly. “And Holling thinks I’m a lunatic. No kisses for Kylie. Haven’t been kissed in over six months.”

  She smirked as a silly idea formed in her head. Silly but not one she rejected immediately due to her inebriated state. “Might as well kiss you,” she whispered into his stern face. “At least you can’t complain about my bad breath.” They couldn’t arrest her for fondling a gargoyle, right?

  He didn’t object so, laughingly, and obviously drunkenly, she pressed her lips up against his for the briefest of moments. Kylie chuckled at herself as she pulled back, but she gasped as the gargoyle let out a groan.

  No, that wasn’t possible. Stone statues don’t groan.

  It did it again, and she jumped back, her bare foot tangled in the grass and she fell on her ass with a thump that reverberated up her spine.

  Kylie watched, frozen to the spot and her mouth open in a silent scream as the gargoyle stirred. His whole body came alive, his skin brightening as life flowed through him. He stood up, straightening, stretching his limbs and wings. He must have been almost seven feet tall, eight feet including those towering wings. A growl shuddered out of his throat as his eyes turned from blank stone to piercing yellow that glowed in the dark of the night.

  Slowly, he looked around until his gaze alighted on her. Up until this point, Kylie had been gaping at him as if it was all just a product of her overactive and alcohol affected imagination. But then he did something that downright terrified her.

  The huge beast cocked his head on one side. “Hello,” he rumbled.

  Kylie paused for a beat as her heart caught up with her mouth, and she screamed before scrambling to her feet and fleeing. Or at least trying to flee; she made it two feet before she tripped over her own shoes and hit her head on one of the stone steps.

  The last thing she remembered was rolling over and the statue looming over her.

  Chapter Ten

  “Ungh!”

  Someone slapped her cheek. Kylie forced her eyes open just in time to witness the second slap.

  Maggie’s eyes widened in surprised relief as her hand made contact with a firm thwacking noise; the multitude of silver jewelry she wore rattled.

  Kylie waved her hands to get her friend to back away. “What are you doing?” she mumbled with a tongue that felt like shag carpeting. Memo to self - no more champagne, ever.

  Maggie hovered over her, peering at her head in frank concern. “You have a huge bump on your head,” she explained, softly. “I was worried you might have a concussion.”

  “So you decided to whale on me?” muttered Kylie as her hand roamed over the offending bump. Boy, it was a doozy.

  “You’re not bleeding,” said Maggie, ignoring her. “But I think we s
hould go to the hospital.”

  “No, no hospitals,” cried Kylie, a little too quickly for the throbbing in her head. “I’m fine,” she said with a grimace.

  Clearly her acting wasn’t up to scratch because Maggie just creased her forehead and gave her a ‘yeah, right’ look. Kylie wasn't averse to hospitals; she was just averse to their huge bills. As much as she loved Bea and was ever so grateful, she didn’t exactly get paid a lot. Last month there had been a choice between severely cutting down on luxuries – such as toilet paper that wasn’t like sandpaper – and paying for health insurance. Her smooth tushie was a testament to the choice she made. She didn’t tend to get sick. She figured as long as she didn’t do anything dumb like running out in front of moving cars or order anything adventurous if she went out to a restaurant, she’d be fine. Course, she probably should have added making gargoyles come to life to the list…

  Kylie squawked and leaped up, alarming Maggie to such an extent that she fell to the floor on her butt.

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  “Where is he?” demanded Kylie, her eyes roving around the room. Her headache was completely forgotten in her terror.

  “He who?”

  “What happened after I fell over?” Kylie squinted at the room; it wasn’t her little living room done in soft pink and sporting cushions in flamingo print. No, this looked like the Munster’s living room.

  Maggie peered up at her, still sprawling on the floor. “I don’t know. I was looking for you and Gary told me he thought you’d gone outside…”

  Kylie withheld the shudder as she recalled Gary chasing after her. “Where are we?”

  “Still at the professor’s, or should I say, Andrew’s house. We’re in the lavender drawing room. Goddess knows how many other drawing rooms they have in the house and what colors they are. Holling found you on a lounger on the patio and carried you in here.”

  “Holling?” Did he carry her? Wow, those muscles certainly weren’t just for show – she wasn't exactly as light as a fluffy cloud.