by A C Warneke
He was still debating whether or not it was for the better.
For months the young Ferris had chattered endlessly and no matter how diligently he ignored her, how many times he glowered at her, she just continued chattering. And then one day, he talked back and her eyes lit up, making her charming smile even sweeter. Upon pain of death he would never admit that the little girl had stolen his heart so he only smiled and conversed freely with her when the others weren’t around.
It wasn’t until she hit eighth grade that she exclusively sought him out and that had more to do with avoiding her mother than a desire to be with him. He knew that she loved her mom very much. It was the reason she hid from Jenna when she got home from school – she didn’t want her mom to see how miserable she was and she needed that time to get her rampaging emotions under control. He discovered he would say the most absurd things just to make her smile because Ferris was the type of girl who should always be smiling.
The two of them enjoyed a rather peculiar friendship.
He had always enjoyed watching her. She had an aura that surrounded her that was brighter than the sun and just as warm. When he was with her he almost felt like a real person, not this creature encased in ice that he had become. If she hadn’t been around to bring warmth to his frozen soul he surely would have self-destructed years ago.
Watching her now he felt as if he could breathe for the first time in years, ever since the veil was lifted and he no longer had to protect humans from the truth of the reality around them. Without being able to bury himself in the role of Guardian he no longer knew who he was and it was becoming increasingly difficult to pretend he knew what the hell he was doing. As the world around him rampaged widely out of control, Ferris remained his haven within the storm.
She glanced up and saw him there, her brilliant smile curving her lips and her eyes lighting up as they met his. Stepping out from behind her easel, she walked towards him, holding her hands out to him. The shorts she wore emphasized her long, slender legs and the tank top clung to her curves like a second skin and he had to remind himself that she was Ferris, his sweet, little Ferris. “Armand, I wasn’t sure if you were going to come.”
“I promised,” he said, taking her delicate hands in his and bringing them up to his lips. Kissing her knuckles, he chuckled, “What kind of man would I be if I didn’t protect you from your own naivety?”
She cocked her head to the side in that adorable manner of hers and asked, “What naivety?”
“Your threats to use Nod or the incubus if I didn’t agree to this,” he reminded her, his heart doing a strange thing in his chest. Releasing her hands, he rubbed his sternum and looked at the stool in the middle of the floor. “What? No props?”
She blushed becomingly but her smile deepened, “Well, if you would feel more comfortable posing with something I’m sure I could find a sword or something. You’re not getting out of being naked, though.”
“Fair enough.” He had to struggle to keep the smile from his lips at her teasing words. Walking over to the stool, he untied the robe and let the silk material fall to the floor, “Where do you want me?”
When she didn’t answer, he glanced over his shoulder and caught the dreamy expression on her face as she caressed him with her eyes. Her body was fluid, ripe and for a moment he knew that all he would have to do was crook his finger and she would be his. The image of pulling her into his arms and tasting those sweet lips flashed into his head and his body began to respond accordingly, the sensation a pleasurable ache as his cock began to lengthen, thicken.
No! This was Ferris he was thinking about, not some nameless woman he met at some club. Whipping his head back to the front, he attempted to cover his embarrassing erection with one hand hoping she didn't see anything. He snapped his fingers at her with the other hand to get her attention. “Ferris, where do you want me?”
That question no longer sounded quite as innocent as it had the first time he asked and he was almost hoping she would answer it in a completely inappropriate way. What the hell was wrong with him? Yes, she was beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful woman he knew, but she was… she was Ferris. He had no right to have any lustful thoughts for her at all. None.
Warm, slender fingers touched his waist and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Her delightful laughter filled the room as her hands moved across his flanks, “Relax, Armand. I’m not going to bite… just yet.”
“You shouldn’t say such things to me,” he said, his voice low and gruff and unsteady. Clearing his throat, he willed his erection away, or at least he tried to. “Weren’t you supposed to provide a loin cloth, or something?”
A length of material was wrapped around his waist as she softly laughed. “Better?”
Clutching the material as if it was the only thing between him and madness he turned around and faced this surprising temptress. “Much.”
Pressing her hands against his chest, burning him with her touch, she leaned up and kissed him lightly on the cheek, “Thanks for doing this for me, Armand. It means the world.”
She had kissed him a thousand times before… so why did he feel this one in his bones? Something strange was happening and he wasn’t sure what it was or that he liked it. In fact, he was fairly certain he did not like it, not in the least. Collapsing onto the stool, he stared at the girl he knew and wondered where she came from. It was as if he was seeing her with fresh eyes and he liked what he saw, a little too much. Had he not known her since she was a child he would consider wining and dining her before taking her up to a private room and exploring every inch of her delectable body.
His eyes dropped to the breasts that were straining against the white cotton material of her tank top and he found himself wondering what color her nipples were, how they would taste on his tongue. She wore a pair of denim cutoffs that hugged her ass and exposed her feminine legs that he wanted to have wrapped around his waist….
“Oh!” she exclaimed, rushing around and gathering up a sketch pad and some charcoal. Rushing over, she began hastily drawing in her book. “That look is perfect.”
He was a truly sick individual, lusting after her like a lecherous old man. It didn’t matter that she was twenty-one and he had the appearance of a twenty-five year old human. He was a gargoyle, he was ancient and powerful and too jaded for an innocent like Ferris.
“I guess that look is good, too,” she said uncertainly, furiously scribbling away. “The scowl does suit you but it is something that I haven’t seen in years. Usually you wear more of an amused yet resigned expression.”
Her words baffled him. What was she talking about?
She chuckled, “And that is a look I have never seen. What are you thinking that is making you scowl so fiercely?”
“That I don’t know you at all,” he admitted honestly, staring at this familiar stranger.
“Oh, Armand,” she grinned, reaching out and brushing a strand of hair from his face, the touch electric. “You haven’t seen anything yet. Now, how about a little less modesty and a little more thigh?”
Her heart was pounding almost painfully in her chest. The moment Armand had dropped the robe and she saw his naked bottom so up close and personal she almost died. He had a perfect ass, his muscles taut and carved from stone. When he shifted and the muscles flexed she had lost the ability to think, to speak. All she could do was stare at the masculine perfection that was Armand.
She knew he had caught her staring but she couldn’t have dragged her eyes away if her studio was on fire and the flames were licking at her skin. Hell, she wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference between the heat coming from within and the fire consuming her from without.
In the space of five minutes his expression had gone from mildly amused to aroused to angry to confused and for the first time since she decided Armand was destined for her she had hope that he might realize it, too.
She knew that she was taking a huge risk in pursuing Armand but all she could see was a fairytale ending
, loving and being loved by the most amazing man she had ever known. She had it all planned out: he would fall madly in love with her and offer her his nights, which she would accept in a heartbeat. In fact, she wouldn’t leave his side from the moment they began the ritual on a new moon to the moment it was completed on the following new moon. She would give him no reason to doubt or worry and when the sun rose she would turn into a gargoyle, maybe even a griffin to match her beloved Armand.
Smiling to herself, she walked around her subject, sitting so proudly on the stool. Ideas were flying through her head and she sketched as quickly as she could, capturing his arrogant brow, his carved jaw, his luscious, uncompromising lips. The painting itself was going to take a few days so she wasn’t going to come at him with all of her guns blazing… she was going to have to try being subtle. By the time the portrait was complete he would be hers. She just had to tread carefully so as not to spook him.
“So, Jenna is pretty excited to be doing the ritual in a few weeks,” she said casually, carefully gauging his response. He did not disappoint as his spine stiffened and his jaw clenched. Smiling to herself, she sketched a few lines into her book. “They’re heading to the Caribbean to spend their days in the warm, tropical sun.”
“I’m surprised Jenna convinced Rhys to go anywhere,” he grumbled, the familiar Armand reasserting himself. “He hates flying.”
“Yes,” Ferris agreed, smudging one of the lines she had drawn to add depth to the image. “But he loves my mom and would do just about anything for her.”
His response was a grunt, which Armand was able to make sound almost elegant. For a moment Ferris doubted the wisdom of wanting more from him. Their relationship was already so incredible she was a fool to desire his love and devotion. But she was also a fool in love with the man that had made her childhood bearable, the one person she could talk to about the difficulties of being the odd man out, she in the human world and he in his own. As wonderful as Ajreis was, his solution was to ignore everyone or kick their collective asses. He wasn't very helpful even if he made her laugh.
“Did you love the woman for whom you gave up your nights?” she asked, trying to keep her voice light and just a shade uninterested in his answer even though his answer was so important. Her belly constricted in anticipation and she tightened her hold on the charcoal until it snapped. Hoping he didn't notice, she clumsily set one of the pieces down and continued working with the other half.
Armand was silent, thoughtful, before he answered, “I thought I loved her.”
She arched an eyebrow at that and he smiled ruefully, “She saw me for what I was and wanted me anyway. It was a heady experience for someone young and stupid.”
“I know you for what you are,” she reminded him. That probably wasn’t so subtle but she doubted he would recognize it in the way she meant it.
“I know,” he acknowledged. “And I appreciate that you do not differentiate. Back then, when magic was even more taboo than it is currently, being a creature that transforms from a man to a stone beast was not something to shout about. It's still not entirely acceptable.”
“You’re not a creature,” she said quietly, fiercely. He blinked at the passion in her voice and she had to remember to dial it back some, “I mean, you’re a gargoyle.”
His lips quirked into a half-smile as he shook his head, “It’s the same thing, Ferris. I’m not a human and that is all that mattered at the time.”
When it was apparent that he wasn’t going to continue, she pushed, “So, this girl… what did she look like?”
He chuckled at her ploy, “Katrina was beautiful. She had hair of the palest blond and eyes… well, I don’t exactly recall her eye color. Rhys insists they were brown but I could have sworn they were light teal, almost the color of your eyes. It was her expression when she saw me transform that I remember most. She was enthralled.”
Freezing her smile in place, she ignored the praise he heaped on the wretched woman’s head. She had to remind herself that had Katrina accepted his gift then Armand wouldn’t be single now. “How did she ever get the chance to see you change? I mean, you guys are hyper-sensitive about that kind of thing.”
He grinned, a smile that was almost boyish and completely devastating. It was a smile she hadn’t seen before, something that was light and carefree. “When we were young we were not always so careful. We also liked pissing off our older brothers and so during the night the three of us would ride our horses as far away from the estate as we could and still make it back it time; we didn’t always make it back before the sun rose.”
She had to smile as the memories warmed his voice. Shaking his head, he continued, “When that happened, we’d have to find a place to hide. And occasionally we were seen.”
He laughed as he reminisced and Ferris found herself listening to him instead of drawing. “We were such hellions, Rhys, Vaughn and I. We deliberately provoked our older brothers – our guardians at the time – because we could. They were so full of themselves, already bored with life and unsure how to deal with the three hell-raising gargoyles.
“On the night I met Katrina we had spent the night carousing – drinking, gambling, whoring,” he shook his head, oblivious to the stab of jealousy that hit her at his words so easily spoken. “We wagered on how long we could stay out and still make it back to the estate before the sun rose. Vaughn was conservative with forty-five minutes, Rhys said forty and being the cocky bastard I was I said thirty.
“Needless to say, I didn’t make it back in thirty minutes.” He smiled, the sight so beautiful she wanted to weep. “I was still miles from the estate when I changed and I ended up stuck in a squire’s garden, amidst other statuary and sending my horse home without me. I had been wise enough to strip off my clothes before I changed completely but in my conceit I thought no one would notice an extra statue, even a great, huge hulking beast of a gargoyle that was blatantly out of place in the middle of graceful nudes.”
“You’re pretty spectacular in your gargoyle form,” she murmured, blushing when he arched an eyebrow at that comment.
“I’m pretty sure you’ve never seen me in all of my glory,” he countered. “I’ve always been very careful to shield your eyes.”
She simply smiled, unwilling to tell him about the time she was seventeen and had snuck up onto the roof at noon. Ajreis had provided a temporary shadow spell to hide her presence and Armand had never known she was there. Her first glimpse of a male’s anatomy was eye-popping and she had almost given herself away by gasping out loud. Since then, she had discovered through art class that human males have much, much smaller penises. Thank God. “Go on, Armand, what happened?”
He gave her a look but continued with the tale, “I thought I had gotten away with it until the beautiful Katrina came out into the gardens just as the sun was setting. I willed her away but I was still young and didn’t have that kind of influence yet. As the sun set she watched me change.”
“I’m sure you were quite the sight for young, virginal eyes,” Ferris muttered, slashing a few lines onto the sketch pad, jealous that the beautiful Katrina got to see what she had hungered to see for so long: Armand’s transformation. She wanted to watch him change from a human to a gargoyle and back to a human.
He chuckled, “Well, she didn’t scream and for a gargoyle that was something. Within a few days she gave me her virginity and back then that actually meant something so of course I offered her my nights.”
There went that flare of jealousy again because virginity still meant something, at least it did to her. Despite being the freak in high school there were still plenty of opportunities to lose her virginity, had she decided that was what she wanted. Clearing her throat, she asked casually, “So, do you offer your nights to every girl who gives you her virginity?”
He chuckled and shook his head no, “Not after Katrina.”
“Do you make a habit out of taking girls’ virginity?”
He laughed harder, “Not at all but occasion
ally the situation arises and I accept. It’s not that big of a deal.”
Her heart was hammering in her chest, wanting to scream at him that it was a big deal, that a girl only lost her virginity once and she wanted to give hers to him. Even if it didn’t mean anything to him it meant everything to her. “What happened? I mean, why didn’t she accept your gift and become a gargoyle? Did she not want to lose her family?”
“I don’t know,” he said, shrugging his broad shoulders, his muscles flexing and bunching in the golden ambient light. He stared off, lost in the past, and she quickly sketched the wistful, heartfelt look in his green eyes. When he spoke his voice seemed to come from another place, another time, “There was a moment that I felt our souls connect and I knew – I knew – that we were meant to be together. But in the next heartbeat she was telling me that she couldn’t go through with it, that it was for the best.
“And then she disappeared and left me to face my last night alone,” he spat out, the resentment twisting his voice. He looked up and met her eyes, almost pleading with her to understand, “I was furious, Fer. She left me and I had to face my final night as a human alone since my brothers had gone out to give us time to ourselves.”
Her heart was breaking for him and the sketches she was working on blurred with tears. There were no words to make it better, even time didn’t seem to ease the pain he had experienced.
“They returned home just before the sun rose,” he continued. “They were as devastated as I was but they stayed by my side for the next sixty-seven years as she went about her life, finding someone else to love, someone else to marry, someone else to have children with.”
He was lost in the past, his emotions playing out on his handsome features, the sorrow, the bitterness. Softly, she whispered “I am sorry, Armand. You didn’t deserve that.”
