When A Gargoyle Flies (Gargoyles Book 3)

by Price,E A

  “Yeah, apparently this new gargoyle is from her old clan. Guess that’s good for both of them. They spent all night talking.”

  Oblivious to his darkening mood, Brenda said goodnight and dragged her feet upstairs to bed.

  It may not mean anything. The male gargoyle could be old and infirm or even a relative of Annis’. He should not immediately assume there may be anything to their relationship. If there was, shouldn’t he be happy? He’d decided they shouldn’t be together, so wouldn’t he want her to find someone else? In theory, yes. In reality, a twinge of jealousy picked at his heart.

  He remembered Luc’s words about there being so few females in the clan. Now there was another male. Another potential mate for Annis.

  He picked up his coffee cup and stood. With more force than he intended, he threw his cup into the sink, shattering it to pieces.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Castor was still uncertain of the world in which he found himself, which meant he gravitated towards Annis – an anchor to his former life. His initial anger had abated, and now he was becoming overwhelmed by the changes to the world.

  It was somewhat unnerving to see the huge, proud male so unsettled. If Annis weren’t so surprised, she might have pitied him for it. Annis had always been out of place – her natural state was cowed fear. But Castor was lower than he had ever been. Annis felt compassion for him. He had lost his leadership, his clan, and his future mate – everything important to him. It was easier for her; she had nothing to lose.

  Luc moved between them all, ensuring they were all well after their sleep. It was unspoken, but there was always an undercurrent of tension regarding their enforced slumber. The fear remained that if they went to sleep again, they would not wake up for another thousand years, if at all.

  Castor came to her side, saying nothing and eyeing her blankly. Luc approached them both carefully, nodding at them. Annis felt oddly in the middle of them, between Castor who still considered her as his clan member, and Luc who considered her as his.

  “Gracchus will take you hunting tonight,” rumbled Luc. “But you must stay with him, and ensure you are not seen by humans.”

  “Hiding from humans,” sneered Castor. “Your ancestor would be ashamed.”

  Luc flexed his wings, inflated his chest and seemed to grow about two feet taller. Annis could feel his dominance crushing her. She wanted to curl into a ball and whimper. It was affecting Castor too; he trembled by her side, but he refused to let it show.

  “Do not presume anything about my ancestor,” said Luc in a mild voice. “We are cautious for the good of the clan. The time to show ourselves to humans is not now.”

  “So I am to be coddled by him.” Castor jutted his chin at Gracchus who was standing idly ten feet away. The male was as relaxed as anything, but Annis knew he was listening closely and prepared to pounce if anything happened.

  Luc took a step closer to Castor. “All gargoyles must prove their worth to the clan. Prove to us that you are worthy of joining us, and perhaps, you will be trusted more.”

  Castor bared his razor sharp teeth, but Luc smiled coldly in return. He pressed Annis’ shoulder before leaving them.

  The other gargoyles were already finding other ways to amuse themselves. Brom and Grey were sparring while Ric aggravated them by pointing out where they were going wrong. Tristan had probably already found his way to the library. He said he had hundreds of years of literature to catch up on. Lief was standing patiently by Gracchus, apparently waiting for the hunting trip too. She did not know about the others, although she suspected Drago had made his way to the roof. He enjoyed sitting up there and watching the town. As long as he was not seen, Luc did not mind. He probably preferred the enormous gargoyle out of the way.

  “I must go,” she murmured.

  “Who is he to give me orders?” snapped Castor.

  “He is our leader.”

  Castor harrumphed. “Self-appointed leader. I do not see that we should listen to a leader who has such a weak mate.”

  Annis drew her brows together. “I would not call Kylie weak.”

  “She cannot fight; she would be no use with a weapon.”

  Annis was saved from her rising ire by Bob - hairy, shaggy, slobbering and thrilled to see her. He jumped at her, knocking her to the ground.

  “Mangy beast,” Castor snarled and raised his claws. Before Annis could stop him, the word, ‘hey’ whipped through the air laced with fury.

  Annis turned her thoroughly licked face to see Chris striding towards them and glaring at Castor.

  “Don’t touch my dog,” yelled Chris.

  Castor let out a hollow laugh. “Do not give me orders, human. It will not end well for you.”

  The two males faced each other, scowling. Castor was easily a head taller than Chris, and far broader. Perhaps bulky by human standards, Chris looked small and slender next to him, yet that did not diminish the fire in his eyes in any way. Castor curled his lip. His tail cracked against the ground and his wings spread, making him seem even larger. Chris didn’t even flinch, if anything his look hardened. Annis was surprised that Castor gave in first.

  “Your creature attacked my clan member.”

  Annis rolled to her knees, pushing the overenthusiastic Bob away. “He was just a little excited. Bob and I are friends, are we not?”

  Bob wagged his tail so hard she thought it might come off.

  Chris held out his hand to her. She only paused for a second before taking it and allowing him to help her up. Castor breathed in and out deeply, his eyes narrowing at them.

  He took his eyes off Chris and looked at Annis. “You know this male?”

  “His name is Chris. He is a friend of the clan and the uncle of Amalric’s mate.”

  Castor grunted and looked Chris up and down, sneering at what he saw.

  Again, Chris didn’t look annoyed or hurt, if anything he was starting to look bored, and Castor didn’t like that.

  Annis focused on Bob.

  Gracchus approached before Castor could say anything more. “Come now; we should hunt.”

  Chris nodded at Gracchus. “Careful in the woods, teens have been partying out there at night.”

  Castor’s nostrils flared as if he was about to tell Chris not to give gargoyles orders again, but Gracchus cut him off.

  “We will.” He grunted at Lief and Castor, and set off for the woods.

  Reluctantly, Castor followed after giving Chris a hard look and Annis a significant one.

  Annis stared after him, wondering what he was trying to tell her. She was almost caught off guard as Bob swiped his tongue over her foot.

  “Anyone would think he hadn’t seen you for days,” Chris groused, although it was with a hint of affection.

  It did feel nice to be loved she admitted to herself sadly.

  “So…” started Chris.

  Annis looked up at him expectantly. He seemed to be flailing for words.

  “Ah, he is your new clan mate?”

  “Yes. He is also my old clan mate. He was my old clan’s leader.”

  “He seems…”

  His words hung in the air for a while before Annis felt the need fill the silence,

  “He was a good leader. I suppose he is still a good leader.”

  “And Luc?”

  Her cheeks felt very hot as she admitted, “He is probably a better leader.”

  A brief, self-satisfied smile flashed over his lips, and Annis wondered at it.

  “I suppose you two knew each other quite well in your time?” He fixed her with a strange look.

  “I suppose so. We were younglings together.” But then she had been a youngling with many others, too. Although she had always felt closest to Castor, even if there was no real closeness between them. It was probably because he was the kindest to her.

  “I need to speak to Luc,” Chris said gruffly.

  “He will be in the house with Kylie, although if I were you, I would wait until they leave their bedro
om.”

  Interrupting her leader during his private time with his mate was suicidal.

  “Oh? Oh!”

  He realized what she meant, and his body stilled. The tension crackled between them as he stared at her and she blushed at him.

  Absently she rubbed her wing, and his eye was drawn to her scars, wincing slightly.

  “How was your date?” she asked quickly, making him snap to attention. The last thing she wanted was his pity. She’d rather hear about how he’d met his human soul mate and was planning to marry her and sire twelve children.

  Chris gave her an almost guilty look. “It wasn’t really a date.”

  His eyes held her, infinite dark pools that seemed to pierce her very soul. She was powerless against those eyes. His perfect, sculpted lips parted as if he was about to say something. Instead, he shook his head.

  “I better go see if I can rouse Luc.”

  With that, he stomped towards the house. It wasn’t really a date, he said. Those words should have encouraged her, but they didn’t. If anything, she felt even bleaker.

  Perhaps she had missed her moment with Chris. If she ever had one.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chris stared at his computer screen. The words blurred. He’d been trying to write a report about Ms. Felcher’s noise complaint – her neighbor just took up drumming - for an hour, but he couldn’t concentrate. It was three days since he had last been at the Hardcastle Mansion. He informed Luc that the situation with Melissa was resolved – she wouldn’t be investigating giant bats for the foreseeable future – and then he left.

  He wanted to go back. More than he ever wanted anything. His nights were infected with dreams of being sensually mauled by a certain pink gargoyle, and his days weren’t any better. When he should have been trying to quell a dispute between the Misses Perkins, he was daydreaming of Annis.

  He couldn’t stand the thought of going up there and seeing the new male, Castor near her. Chris didn’t really like the thought of any of the males being near her, but it was worse with him. The way he looked at her was territorial, like he owned Annis. Nobody owned Annis – she was her own gargoyle! He bristled at the memory.

  He feared that Castor wanted Annis. Sweet, naïve Annis probably didn’t see it – but Chris could read the huge gargoyle like a picture book. When it came to sex and desire, he usually had pretty good instincts… for everyone else, not for his own love life. No, he usually made terrible decisions when in relationships. One of the reasons he thought being single was the better option. Case in point – Mara.

  In the brief, few months they were married things quickly went from bad to worse. When they were together, they fought. She started staying out all night, and Chris started working longer hours, so he didn’t have to go home to her at all.

  Chris tried talking to her about the baby, and the baby’s future, but Mara didn’t want to listen. She told him he was boring; she wanted to have fun like they did when they first got together. But no, he had work; he had responsibilities. She didn’t like that he was sending a large amount of his paycheck to support Brenda. She wanted him to stop that and when he wouldn’t, she got even worse. It was probably about that time that he realized the love he had felt for her had been infatuation. He was dazzled by her, by her beauty, by her energy, by her love of life – but he’d never truly loved her.

  One night when she came home half-intoxicated, he tried yelling at her that her behavior was threatening the health of their child – his child – and she jeered at him, wondering if he really knew it was his baby. He snapped. He came after her, and for a moment, he almost thought he was going to hit her. She screamed, scared of him for the first time and ran out of the house.

  Chris came to his senses quickly and tried to stop her, but she drove away. She didn’t even make it to the end of their street before she crashed, right into a tree. Mara was in a coma for a week before she died.

  The doctors were surprised that Chris thought she was pregnant. Mara had a hysterectomy years ago. That was like a sucker punch to the gut.

  Her funeral was pathetic. Friends and colleagues of Chris’ turned up. Brenda and her grandmother even managed to come, but there were very few people who were really there for Mara and not him. He’d never met her family, never really met her friends. The only person who wasn’t a passing acquaintance was her brother. He was a nice guy – an insurance adjustor – a few years older than Mara.

  Chris had been numb since her death, grief, guilt and confusion warring within him for what happened, but he remembered going for coffee with the brother after the funeral. Mark told him how their parents were still alive but didn’t want to come. They had a huge falling out years ago. Mara had been a bit of a wild child and had fallen pregnant at sixteen. Her parents forced an abortion on her. She got an infection and had to have a hysterectomy. After that, she ran away. Mark smiled sadly as he told him about the postcards she would send him from the various places she ended up. Chris could sense the genuine love Mark had for his sister and felt even guiltier that he hadn’t felt the same for her.

  Chris apologized for not taking care of her. He regretted he never really even knew the woman he’d been married to, never really taken the time to know her, and it had ended disastrously. Mark shook his head. There were no recriminations. He just hoped Mara was finally at peace. He finished by showing Chris pictures of his wife and three kids. They looked happy. Mark now even sent him Christmas cards. They were cute, personalized ones with pictures of the family on the front in matching Christmas sweaters.

  He couldn’t get over Mara. Not for the reasons people thought. But he couldn’t get over his guilt for what happened. If only he had been a better man, things might have been different.

  Chris blinked as he realized Martha was standing in front of him.

  “Sorry, did you say something?”

  Martha gave him a weak smile, and he noticed there was something off about her.

  “I was just asking if I could put up this poster for the Winter Wonderland Ball on your notice board?”

  It took a few moments to pull him out of his reverie, but finally, he said, “Sure, it’ll look good next to the wanted posters. You organizing it again?”

  Martha nodded. “Along with the rest of the committee.”

  She let out a huge yawn, and Chris realized that she was looking tired. Martha was usually always immaculate and perfect in her appearance, but today she was wearing very little make-up, and instead of her usual pristine outfit, she was in jeans and a sweater.

  “You know if you want to take off, you can, it’s quiet around here.”

  Martha shrugged. “I’m fine.”

  “Sure you’re getting enough sleep?” He didn’t really want to get too personal with Martha, but he was her boss and he did have some duty of care.

  “I haven’t been sleeping all that well recently,” she admitted and slumped into the chair opposite his desk.

  “Maybe this job and everything else you do is too much.” She was on just about every committee in town and took part in all kinds of groups and meetings. To name but a few, she had a book club, a knitting circle, a sewing round and a painting class. It was a wonder to him she slept at all.

  Martha gave him a sharp look. “I know I wasn’t your first choice for this job…”

  “Martha, you know my reasons for wanting to hire Gwen. It had nothing to do with you.” Well, not entirely…

  “I know, which is why I had Myrna give Gwen a full-time job at the library. The pay is much better, by the way.”

  Chris cocked an eyebrow at her. “You did? How’d you get Myrna to agree to that?”

  “She’s my second cousin.”

  “Really?”

  “I’m practically related to everyone in town,” she told him ruefully.

  Indeed, her family dated back to the original town witches. No wonder she wanted to date him – fresh blood and all. She was probably distantly related to about eighty percent of the men
in town.

  Martha yawned again.

  Chris pried the Winter Wonderland poster out of her fingers. “Seriously, Martha, it’s quiet here; I’ll put up the poster and answer the phones. Go home and get some sleep.”

  For a second he thought a look of fear entered her eyes, but she nodded and mumbled goodbye to him before shuffling away.

  She looked as bad as he felt. He couldn’t sleep properly with all the erotic dreams he’d been having. But it didn’t matter. He couldn’t see a future for him with any woman, least of all a complicated one with a gargoyle.

  No, he was better off alone.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Castor was having difficulty adjusting to modern life. Or perhaps more aptly, he was having trouble adjusting to life under Luc’s leadership.

  Annis felt sympathy – both for Castor and Luc. They were in a difficult situation. Essentially, they were all trapped at the Hardcastle Mansion. It went against a gargoyle’s nature not to want to roam free. Another way in which Annis was abnormal. She was more than happy with her household chores, and she wanted the security of the house. But the other gargoyles wanted to feel free, not caged.

  The awakened gargoyles had little to do with their time other than practice sparring. Admittedly, a few like her had found other interests – like Tristan and the library. Like Ric and Brenda. But for every settled gargoyle, there would be another unhappy at their situation, wanting to know why they simply did not show themselves to the humans.

  The thousand years of their curse was almost over, and Luc was rushing to free as many of their gargoyle brothers and sisters as he could. After the thousand years ended, any gargoyles left would be stone forever, and for every intact gargoyle they found, another two that had not survived the years were also found. He did not have time to deal with the gargoyles who had awoken and were considering revolting.

  Annis did not want to think about what would happen if enough gargoyles decided to stage a coup. Luc was the most dominant gargoyle she had ever met, and would easily be able to stand against Castor or Brom. But would he be able to stand against twenty Castors?