When A Gargoyle Investigates

by E A Price

  She tried to outstare him. Aaaaaaaaand, fifteen seconds later she caved. “I saw one of you flying.”

  His eyes flashed. “You did?”

  She looked at him thoughtfully. “I don’t think it was you.” It was a way away, but the creature had seemed slightly smaller than the male currently cozying up to her cats.

  “No.”

  “It was twenty years ago when I was younger – a lot younger. Very young in fact.”

  Melissa tittered and gave herself a mental head slap. As her high school gym coach would say, ‘Get it together, Sanchez and for the love of god get up that rope.’ The former probably only applied in this instance.

  “Indeed.”

  He growled, and his tail flicked uneasily. His large hand froze on Cheetara – who was not a happy kitty. Melissa wanted to probe him more about that, but well, that question had to get in line because she had dozens of questions she wanted to ask more, and one of them could not be contained any longer.

  “So what are you doing here tonight?” she asked pointedly.

  He seemed to relax again and resumed his stroking – much to Cheetara’s content. “I am not sure I can tell you.”

  Melissa scrunched her nose in dismay. “No?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  She sighed. “What can you tell me? I have a million and one questions.”

  He gave her an interested look. “You do? That is a very specific number.”

  “It’s just a saying.”

  “So you do not have any questions?”

  “No, I mean…”

  “What are your questions?” he asked serenely.

  If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was teasing her. Hmmm.

  “Okay. Well, um…” Melissa suddenly found herself flustered and spoiled for choice. “Ah, how long do you live? What do you eat? Do you lay eggs? How come there are so few of you? I mean I assume there are so few of you because otherwise, you’d see gargoyles flying in the sky more than airplanes. Speaking of which, can you fly higher than an airplane? Are there any sub-species of gargoyles? Can all gargoyles fly? Do you have names? Are your young born with wings or do they grow them later? Can you…”

  He held up a hand and almost smiled indulgently. Or at least, twitched his cheek indulgently. “Perhaps I could tell you something simple.”

  Melissa sagged. “Like what?”

  “My name is Gracchus.”

  “Gracchus,” she smiled excitedly. “I’m Melissa. Melissa Sanchez - you can call me Melissa.”

  “Melissa,” he purred her name, extracting a quiver from her. She wasn’t sure her name had ever sounded quite so… sexy. She almost hooted with laughter. She considered a gargoyle’s voice sexy – ha!

  Gracchus looked at her almost curiously. “Are you really not scared of me?”

  No, she wasn’t – the thought hadn’t even entered her head, she was too excited to be scared.

  “Should I be?”

  “Of me? No, but I could not say the same for my fellow gargoyles. You should not assume another gargoyle would not try to hurt you.”

  Melissa leaned a little closer. “But I have nothing to fear from you?”

  “No,” he told her sincerely.

  She nodded, not doubting him for a second. Though, really, if she was going to be scared of him, she should have started the moment he appeared in her apartment.

  “I should leave now,” he murmured lowly, his eyes dipping to the contented Cheetara who had fallen asleep on his chest.

  Her other cats meowed as he started to move, but merely strolled off his body and began making their way to the kitchen looking for food. Cheetara wasn’t quite so easily moved. She yowled unhappily as he tried to brush her off him, and Melissa wished she could make the same noise because she evidently felt the same disappointment.

  “What about my other questions? I have a ton more.”

  She gave him a beseeching look, and she was sure he looked regretful.

  But Gracchus merely looked to the window and insisted, “I must go.”

  He firmly grasped Cheetara in one mighty hand – not an easy feat as she had already pushed her claws into his chest, determined not to be budged – and getting to his feet deposited the unhappy feline on Melissa’s lap.

  Gracchus stretched his wings, careful not to disturb any of her belongings, but in a way that made her gulp just a little. His wingspan was absolutely massive, and she briefly thought of a dragon.

  Distractedly she started scratching Cheetara’s ear. “Will I see you again?”

  “Would you wish to?” he asked, almost surprised that she might be.

  “Yes, definitely!” she gushed and then cringed at her tone. She sounded like a love-struck teenager. “Uh, I mean, my questions…” she muttered.

  “Ah.” The look of interest was soon extinguished, replaced by the calm, cool expression. “I will return tomorrow night if it is safe.”

  “Yes! Ahem, I mean, yeah, okay.”

  It was probably a little late to be the cool cucumber. She’d already played the eager beaver.

  Gracchus made his way to the balcony window – the same window he had used for his entrance. Melissa followed him, earning herself a cross mewl from Cheetara as she dropped to the floor.

  He paused at the window. “I must ask that you tell no one of me.”

  “Of course, not,” she agreed quickly. Like she wanted to share him!

  His cheek twitched, and she bit her lip as he actually managed a smile. Dear lord!

  “Until tomorrow then, Melissa.”

  “Ummm…”

  He left through the window before she could say anything embarrassing, or perhaps just make a gurgling noise.

  Dazedly, she dropped onto the couch, nearly squishing Panthro.

  Wow. Gargoyles are real – they’re really real! She felt exhilarated and dizzy with happiness. Meeting Gracchus was amazing! He was amazing – a walking miracle.

  She thought of her first date, her first time, the day she made it into the academy and many wonderful vacations. But yep, today was hands down the best day of her life!

  *

  Gracchus smiled to himself as he remembered the litany of questions that flowed from the small female. She had seemed interested, excited even, animated in an especially charming way.

  He perhaps should not have shown himself to her, but he had thought her in danger, and he could not have lived with himself if he had merely watched her being attacked. Though, he wasn’t actually needed. No, she acquitted herself most admirably he thought almost proudly. The male had been bigger than her, but she had little trouble in putting him down.

  He was amazed at how little fear there was in her. She was surprised by his appearance, but she wasn’t scared of him. No, just excited. If she hadn’t been so competent in dealing with her robber, he might be worried she was too trusting. But she could trust him – one hundred percent, as long as she realized she couldn’t trust any other gargoyle half as much as him.

  Gracchus chuckled as he dropped back into the park and carefully made his way back to his spot. Her reaction to him was unlike any reaction he had ever garnered from any human – the human members of the clan included. There was no fear there, no concern, only wonder.

  He wondered how much he should actually tell her. Luc would need to be told of all this. The plan had not been to show himself to her at all, but Gracchus wasn’t fearful of Luc’s reaction. His chief trusted him to take care of himself and knew he would only take reasonable risks when necessary.

  But, Gracchus would wait and see whether it was safe the following evening, and then he would go to her. He found himself actually looking forward to it.

  Six

  Melissa nibbled the end of her pencil. How about diet? She definitely needed a question about diet. Would gargoyles eat raw or cooked food? Did they hunt their food? Or like her did they just about salivate for a chicken tandoori pizza?

  She was writing her list of questions
she wished to ask Gracchus. So far she was up to seventy-nine.

  She wondered how invasive she could be. Would he want to talk about sex? Heat rushed to her cheeks. Could she talk about sex without blushing? Even sitting in her office, just thinking about asking him made her more twittery than a bluebird in a Disney cartoon.

  Melissa chewed the eraser off her pencil, gagged and spit it out and then decided she would double asterisk her sex questions – and maybe try a glass of wine before she attempted asking them. Only if she was very loose and didn’t have to look him in the eye would she go down that route.

  She looked up startled as Colt burst into the office. Yeesh, having a partner would take time to get used to – she once went three days without having a visitor down there. She was used to the privacy, but altogether she was glad he was there.

  “Hey, morning,” he purred and then looked at the cactus. “Curtis.”

  He looked unshaven and scruffy and as if he’d just walked in from a magazine photo shoot.

  “Hi,” she squeaked, trying to pretend that she was a rational human being and not one who was considering how she and Colt would look in a Christmas card photo while wearing matching sweaters – just like her brothers and their wives.

  No. Just no, she didn’t know the kind of man she would end up with, but she doubted it would be one who would submit to matching sweaters.

  “Brought you a coffee.”

  He placed it on her desk and gave her a wide grin. Her stomach answered with a worrying gurgle. His darkly handsome features would give many a woman a gurgle. Her mom would about burst a gasket if she knew about Melissa’s new partner. She would urge Melissa to find out if he was married or if he was seeing anyone, and if not would nag her into asking him out. Not a good idea - given that they were partners. But her mom wouldn’t be deterred by that; Melissa was sure her mom would love for her to bring him home. How would she react if she brought Gracchus home…

  “Thanks,” murmured Melissa, trying not to smile at the thought of her mom trying to entertain Gracchus at the dinner table while offering him more potatoes.

  She took a sip and let out a sigh. It was perfect, just the way she liked it with maple creamer. Nobody ever got her coffee this right unless she ordered it herself.

  “Mmm, lovely, how did you know I like maple creamer?”

  She knew it was kind of an acquired taste, and one that had always made her boyfriends gag.

  Colt shrugged as he sat down at his desk. “I could smell the maple yesterday when you got your coffee after lunch.”

  Melissa stared at him. “You could smell that? What are you, Superman?”

  “Uh, just a good sense of smell.”

  He tapped his nose and looked mildly uncomfortable.

  She laughed. “That’s impressive.” He relaxed again, and she added. “But I don’t envy you when visiting crime scenes. My sense of smell has always been a little skew-whiff since my eldest brother accidentally hit me in the nose with a bottle rocket when I was four. I’m kind of glad I don’t get the full smell of dead, decomposing bodies.”

  Colt smiled. “A bottle rocket?”

  “Yeah, he was grounded for eight months. I’ve never seen my dad so mad. Thankfully, no permanent damage – other than the smell.”

  She tilted her chin up and presented her snub nose for inspection.

  “No, no damage at all,” he murmured in a low, gravelly voice.

  He gave her an intense look, and for a second, she thought she saw his eyes flash to a different color, but he immediately looked away. When he looked back at her, his eyes were normal again, and she thought she imagined it.

  “You’re in early,” he said.

  “Yeah, I wanted to do a little research.”

  On gargoyles - she wanted to consult her old book, as well as some volumes she kept at work in order to compile her questions. The internet was all fine and dandy, but you had to wade through a lot of rubbish to get what you wanted.

  She pulled out her bottom drawer and dumped her notepad on top of her old book.

  “How was your evening?” he asked.

  “Ah good, quiet, all good,” she muttered, trying to sound normal and not like someone who spent the evening talking to a gargoyle.

  Yeah, she would have made a terrible criminal – she was not great at lying.

  Colt looked at her askance. “Really? I heard someone tried to rob you.”

  Melissa almost slapped her forehead – stupid! How could she have already forgotten that?!

  “Oh yes, I mean apart from that – obviously, ha, haha.”

  She forced a laugh and thankfully he thought she just sounded like a lunatic because she was shaken up, and not because she actually was a lunatic.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” she answered honestly, “he was just a kid.”

  Perhaps she would have been a little more bothered by it, were it not for what happened after.

  His eyes were five shades of intense as he looked at her. “Are you sure? If you want to take some time I can hold the fort here – I told you I’ve been working this beat for years. I am a pro at answering crank phone calls and dealing with crazy mail.”

  Melissa smiled gratefully. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine.”

  Colt shrugged. “Anything new happening today?”

  “Not really. I did a quick check of our e-mail, and nothing leaped out at me, but I’ve only just got the mail so who knows.”

  Maeby from the mailroom had just dumped it outside and kicked the door to let her know it was there. Maeby was not a people person, but she could sort fifty letters a minute.

  “Okay, well, let me take half.”

  They started duly opening letters and packages – by that point they had already been x-rayed in case they contained anything that might raise a red flag. On occasion, Melissa had been sent bones from various concerned citizens who believed they belonged to the remains of supernatural creatures – dragons, The Hound of the Baskervilles, jackalopes, etcetera, etcetera, sigh, etcetera. Not that Melissa complained about her job – she was doing what she wanted to do, and she wouldn’t trade a mind-numbing moment of this to be upstairs dealing with the boring crime. Though, if her mother asked, she dealt with white collar crime.

  Colt grunted in amusement. “Man here is convinced aliens abducted his wife for a night.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, she spent the whole night away from home, and the tracker on her phone says she was at the Sleep Easy Inn – but she completely denies she was there. He can’t think of any other explanation other than the fact that aliens must have abducted her.” Colt raised an eyebrow with a knowing look on his face. “Apparently she’s exhausted and can’t account for her whereabouts. What do you think?”

  Melissa tried not to giggle. “I think if I had a nickel for every cheating spouse who used alien abduction to cover their illicit liaisons I’d have… three nickels.”

  Colt chuckled and started on another letter. They made tutting noises and snorts as they went through everything.

  Melissa found her mind leading back to Gracchus. She eyed Colt. Now, he was large – for a human, but Gracchus would probably dwarf him. She wondered whether all gargoyles were as large as him. Maybe some were larger, though he seemed plenty big for her. Even if she stood in front of him, leaned up on her tippy toes and he bent down, she doubted their lips would meet…

  “You sure you’re okay, Sanchez?”

  She realized she had been staring into space. “Uh, yeah, why?” Well, other than the fact that she was daydreaming about kissing a gargoyle!

  Then she blushed as she considered whether humans and gargoyles were sexually compatible, and if they were, was Gracchus as large as he appeared. It was a fair question – the former part, not the part about Gracchus’ size, no that was all just speculation on her part.

  “How was your evening anyway?” she asked trying to distract herself.

  Colt looked down at his de
sk, but before he could answer, the phone rang, and he snatched it up.

  “Hunter,” he growled into the receiver.

  Melissa scanned a letter about a unicorn sighting and listened idly as he grunted into the phone. With a final grunt, he ended the call.

  “We have a case,” he stated, getting to his feet.

  Melissa nodded and grabbed her gun. Thankfully, Lion-O was at her neighbor’s, so she didn’t have to beg Marcy from accounting to watch him while she was out.

  It would probably turn out to be nothing, but it might distract her from her mounting excitement at seeing her gargoyle again.

  Seven

  Melissa tried not to groan as she spotted Detective Simpson on the scene. He had fifteen years on her and was married with two kids, but the first time they met he hit on her, and she turned him down flat. He hadn’t been particularly friendly ever since then.

  She glanced up at Colt as he held the crime scene tape in the air for her. At least she had him watching her back. Usually, she had to do this alone while surrounded by male cops sneering at her.

  Colt didn’t seem to notice her unease, though his eyelid flickered when Simpson started clicking his fingers at them as if he was trying to attract a waiter to ask for ketchup.

  “Over here,” he grumbled impatiently, and as if they hadn’t been able to spot the dead body that had people standing around looking at it.

  Simpson stood up a little straighter in Colt’s presence. He looked Colt up and down and immediately appeared a little wary. Colt was bigger, more rugged, more handsome, and looked infinitely more capable of doing something dangerous – the leather jacket didn’t hurt that impression – and Simpson decided he didn’t like him one bit. Melissa quickly introduced them and started pulling on crime scene booties.

  “Wow, Sanchez you actually have a friend,” sneered Simpson.

  “Ha ha,” muttered Melissa.

  Colt’s eyebrow twitched, and she thought she saw his eyes widen or brighten, but he didn’t pay much attention to Simpson. Merely pulled on booties and gloves.

  Simpson opened his mouth – probably for another taunt, but Cole merely strode past him and squatted next to the body, giving the medical examiner’s assistant a smoldering look. Julie almost squeaked, and Melissa could understand the urge.