by A C Warneke
“Peter,” she pleaded one last time, hoping to reach the man she knew was in there somewhere, not wanting to think about Vanessa lying to her all of these months. Why hadn’t her friend told her the truth? Melanie would have accepted it and been glad for it; then she wouldn’t have had to worry about Peter at all. “Go find Vanessa and ask her to marry you; she adores you.”
He scoffed, “Like I would marry that whore; no, I want someone less used up.”
“You’re a fucking bastard if you think that way about her,” Melanie seethed, still protective of her friend. “She’s a good woman….”
“Yes, in bed and only in bed.” Peter’s face twisted in disgust and turmoil. “I’ll fuck her but come home to you at night.”
“I’m not going to share my husband.” She squeezed her eyes shut, to clarify that she wasn’t going to marry him at all, but he was already talking.
“Come on, Melanie, you’re being childish,” he murmured, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “Nobody believes in monogamy anymore; with your, ahem, lover, and my piece of ass on the side, we’re perfect together.”
She huffed out an incredulous snort, trying to bring her arms up to break his hold but his grip was like a vice. Even though the cold was seeping into her bones, she didn’t want him to touch her. “Let go Peter.”
His hand splayed over her abdomen, pulling her hard against his body and his arousal. His breath was hot against her neck as he whispered in her ear, “Marry me, Lenni.”
Struggling in earnest, she bit out, “It’s over; it’s been over for a very long time.”
“Baby, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” he murmured coldly, tightening his hold and frightening her. He actually meant to harm her but she didn’t understand why. If it wasn’t a space alien or skin walker, what the hell caused the horrific personality change? “You’re mine; you’ve always been mine. I’m not going to lose you again.”
“You’re not making any sense, Peter,” she said in a low voice, watching as the sun began to fall beneath the horizon, as colors exploded across the sky. It was going to be night soon; Vaughn was going to be knocking on her door in a few minutes. Maybe he would be able would be able to explain Peter’s behavior; maybe he would tell her that Peter wasn’t really Peter at all. Maybe….
Peter jerked her body against his, his voice a low, threatening growl, “I’m not letting you go again.”
She laughed, “You don’t get a say in the matter; I’m not yours.”
“You are mine,” he snarled, pressing her forward until the metal railing dug into her stomach.
“You’re hurting me, Peter,” she protested, as they stumbled backwards a few steps. With all of her strength, she pulled away from him. At the same time, he pushed her forward and she landed hard against the railing. Her hands curled around the bar to hold on when she realized that she was still falling forward. She was no longer looking at the sky but at the ground that was rushing up to greet her.
The ground that she was rushing to meet.
“Melanie!” she heard a gravelly voice cry out, the sound lost as the wind rushed past her body. She never should have taken a room on the fourteenth floor; living so high was bound to come to a bad end.
Time slowed down and the strangest thoughts went through her head: she was never going to see her family again, she was never going to see Vaughn again; that he had been the gargoyle in her bedroom. And how cool would it have been to have a gargoyle for a boyfriend? Especially one who looked like Vaughn at night and the glorious stone creature in the day? It would have been interesting to fuck him in his gargoyle form; she wondered if it would even be possible.
It was insanity to think about Vaughn as he was in his gargoyle form; she wasn’t going to see him again in any of his forms. She was never going to introduce him to her family; hell, she was never going to see her family again. Guilt gnawed at her gut as she considered her family having to deal with her death, of Ferris having to deal with it. The little girl deserved nothing but sunshine and happiness, not the loss of her favorite aunt.
She almost laughed at the whole thing; the fates finally decided she was ready to see the truth just before they killed her.
And even more ridiculous was the fact that the talisman wasn’t very effective at protecting her: she was going to die and it didn’t do a damn thing to stop it except for nearly burning a hole in her skin. Closing her eyes, she let the metal bar go and brought her arms up to shield her face. Though from fourteen stories, she didn’t know why she bothered; she was going to be splattered all over the sidewalk next to her apartment building.
She was not going to be a pretty corpse.
Eleven
Armand grabbed Vaughn’s arm, “The sun is setting; there’s no time!”
“If I don’t, she’ll die!” Vaughn’s heart raced in his stone chest as he spread his wings.
“If you do, you’ll both die!” Armand yelled back in fear and anger.
Vaughn didn’t even look before he fell forward, streamlining his wings to gain speed. In his terrifying flight to reach Melanie, he was oblivious to the frozen wind that cut across his face. The sun was setting, he could feel his body transforming but he had to reach Melanie, he had to save Melanie. Without her, life would be cold and dark… empty.
Watching in horrified dread, he saw her bring her arms up to cover her head. Time was moving too quickly as she continued to fall and too slow as he desperately tried to reach her. She was too far away, falling too quickly and there wasn’t enough time. His body was softening, he was going to catch her but it would be too late. They were both going to hit the sidewalk and die.
Stretching out his arm, his hands, he reached for her and touched her waist with the tips of his fingers. With a primal roar, he stretched his fingers until they gripped her shirt, pulling her to him. Five feet above the ground, he had her in his arms and he extended his wings fully to halt their descent, jolting their bodies at the abrupt stop. As he set his feet on the cold ground, relief flooded him as he held her once again in his arms. She was safe.
She was alive.
Melanie looked up at his changing face with wide, frightened eyes and her voice barely made it past her taut jaw. “Vaughn.”
“Melanie,” he rumbled, his voice still gravelly even as his body became human. Her body trembled wildly in his arms and he closed his eyes, grateful that they were both still alive, that somehow, against all odds, he succeeded. Holding her against his body, he took a moment to absorb the feel of her, to reassure himself that she survived; to ease her fear.
She was alive. Oh, God, he almost lost her; he couldn’t bear the thought of not having her in his life, of her lying cold and broken in a lonely grave. He couldn’t….
“You saved me,” she breathed, her voice uneven and breaking. He could feel her heart fluttering madly against his chest. His own heart was doing the same mad, adrenaline-fueled dance. It felt close to bursting, with relief, with fear at how close he came to losing her.
“Of course I did,” he murmured, brushing his lips against her forehead. His voice shook and he had to take a steadying breath before he could continue. “Did you think I would let you fall?”
Her laughter was choked and soft, “I didn’t know you could fly; I had hoped but I didn’t know.”
He smiled slightly as another wave of relief crashed through him, making him slightly delirious even as his heart continued to thump painfully fast. “Sweetheart, I’m a gargoyle; of course I can fly.”
She laughed a bit hysterically as her eyes welled with tears. “So the fates have decided I’m ready….” Her voice quavered as a tear slipped down her cheek. “Hell of a way to show me; I guess that means I’m worthy, huh?”
He gathered her even closer, closing his eyes and simply holding her as she cried; tears of relief, tears of emotional over-load. Tears of surviving when everything in her knew she was going to die.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pr
essing kisses against his chest, nuzzling her nose against his skin, terror turning to a need to remind herself that she was still alive, that Vaughn had saved her and she was still alive. Twisting around in his arms until her breasts were pressed against his chest, she purred, “I love your gargoyle form.”
“I know,” he grunted, a gruff laugh rumbling his chest, letting himself drown in Melanie’s tender kisses, her soft lips moving over his skin until the relief of surviving morphed into something more: lust for life, lust for Melanie. As he held her, his penis grew and thickened, needing to claim Melanie and reaffirm their lives.
Her lips found his and when her tongue swept into his mouth, he groaned, tightening his hold on her. She nearly brought him to his knees when she wrapped her legs around his waist, the silky material of her skirt riding up so the skin of her thighs rubbed against the skin of his hips. She exhaled lustily, urgently moving her body against his, trying to crawl into his skin. “Vaughn.”
The uncomfortable feeling of being watched slowly crept into his conscious mind and he pulled his lips away from hers, looking around. Several people were staring at them with surprise at his lack of clothes and with dismay at their lack of discretion. He knew that if they had seen his gargoyle form, the magic would have automatically altered their memories to that of a man. But as the rush of adrenaline and fear began to recede, he realized he was standing in the middle of the sidewalk with a gorgeous woman in his arms and not a stitch of clothing on his body.
In the middle of a Minnesota winter.
Now that it registered, the coldness began to seep into his skin. Unlike his stone body, his human body was slightly more susceptible to the temperature. Of course, the winter chill was more of an annoyance than a true problem but it didn’t change the fact that he was naked.
“We’ve got an audience,” he murmured, feeling her body stiffen. He held her closer, not about to let her squirm out of his arms; he was never going to let her go again. “Let’s get inside.”
Hugging Melanie closer to his body to keep her warm, he began to walk around the block to the front of the building. Normally he had no problem with his nudity, but with the layers of clothing covering the humans, he felt more than naked; he felt… exposed. And Melanie’s skirt was twisted about her legs, barely covering his erection.
Someone let out a low whistle and he felt a blush burnish his cheek bones; females of this generation were so different than what he had known before. They were more open, more sexually aware. More daring. Most of the time he loved the new attitudes, now however, it made him uncomfortable; he had almost lost the woman he loved and he had almost died in the process.
He would have died had anything happened to her.
The thought of how close he came to losing her whipped through his body and he visibly shuddered, tightening his hold on her. Her rain-fresh scent filled his nostrils and calmed his senses and as he walked he pressed his lips to her temple. As soon as they were back in his room, he was never going to let her out of sight again.
“It’s all right,” her voice drifted into his mind and he looked down at her, the compassion and love filling her eyes as she gazed up at him. Placing a palm over his heart, she offered a shaky smile, “You saved me; I’m all right.”
“I know,” he rasped, hugging her once more, no longer concerned with the humans who watched them pass. As he moved, he sent out the subtle memory spell to alter what the humans remembered, if they remembered anything at all. He knew that it might not be enough but it hardly mattered; who would believe a naked man walked through the winter streets with a luscious woman in his arms?
He reached the entrance as his brothers came rushing out; he was taken aback by the abject relief apparent on both of their faces. No, he had expected such emotion from Rhys but not Armand, who never let anything disturb his countenance. Even when he was angry, Armand looked cool and calm and collected. Vaughn was about to tell them he was all right when Armand stepped forward and embraced him in a powerful hug, not caring that Melanie was between them. He didn’t relent even when she squeaked; in fact he pressed tighter.
“Thank the gods,” Armand breathed, hugging Vaughn with all of his might. “We thought we lost you.”
True, he had cut it very close, but he made it. With his arms full, Vaughn was unable to return the hug but he pressed his head against Armand’s to let him know he returned the love. “There was just enough time.”
“There wasn’t any time,” Armand said, stepping back and draping a robe over Vaughn’s broad shoulders.
With a confused expression, Vaughn looked to Rhys, who surprised him by also stepping forward and enfolding him in a powerful embrace, “We turned the moment you leapt.”
Vaughn’s head jerked back as he looked at his two brothers then down at Melanie. Her eyes were wide in her face as all four sets of eyes slowly looked down to her chest. The stone that was between her breasts was slowly dimming, as if it had been glowing.
Indeed, the creature who gave her the talisman was very powerful. Swallowing against the lump in his throat at the realization that he came even closer to losing her than he knew, he closed his eyes as his knees suddenly went weak. Both Armand and Rhys grabbed an arm to steady him until he could stand on his own.
“It worked,” Melanie breathed in awe, her fingers curling around the amulet.
Armand’s jaw tightened as he ushered the small group back into the building. A slender man of medium height was rushing towards them, concern marring his even-featured face. As he reached out to touch Melanie, Vaughn growled and turned so he stood between her and the rat. The bastard was never going to hurt Melanie again.
“Melanie!” he cried, his hands flapping uselessly at his sides as his eyes moved over her, worry and concern etching his deep lines into his face. “My God, Lenni, are you all right?”
She squirmed until Vaughn had no choice but to put her down. It appeased him somewhat that she remained by his side and slid her hand into his. Her voice was quiet, hurt, as she asked, “Haven’t you done enough, Peter?”
“Melanie,” he wheedled, stepping towards her and stopping when Melanie moved closer to Vaughn, until she was plastered to his side. Peter stood there, looking lost and confused. “Lenni, please, you have to believe me; I have been having so many doubts about the end of our relationship this week and I just came by tonight to talk about it, and then suddenly I was saying all of these… things. I have no idea what came over me.”
Melanie saw the looks exchanged between the three gargoyle brothers and her brow furrowed as she turned back to Peter. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know!” he cried, visibly distressed. His face was red and his eyes were watery as he looked at Melanie, stridently ignoring the three hulking giants as he lurched forward and took her hand in his. “It’s like, as soon as I walked through your door, I became a different person, that I had to hurt you but I had to have you; I don’t know!”
Vaughn growled low in his throat and Peter wisely stepped back, dropping her hand and holding up his own hands in defense. “I don’t want to hurt you now; I never wanted to hurt you. I don’t know what happened.”
“Did you sleep with Vanessa before we broke up?” she asked softly.
He nodded his head once, “I’m so sorry, Lenni: I was drunk and it just sort of happened….”
And then, he began to change; his expression softened, twisted and his eyes lost their focus, becoming vacant. His repentant expression turned into a sneer as he rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck from side to side. His voice was… smarmy as he sneered, “Vanessa has such a hot, little body; I fucked her to know what it was like to fuck a real woman, not one who spends her days making chocolate in her parent’s candy shop….”
In the next instant, Peter was flat on his back and Vaughn was standing over him. From the ground, Peter began to laugh maniacally, “I see how it is; she’s fucking all three of you, spreading her pretty, little thighs for the lot of you; I’d give just abo
ut anything to see that….”
His eyes rolled back into his head and he went limp, as if he were a puppet and his strings had been severed. It was almost scary and she would have thought he was dead if she hadn’t been able to see the rise and fall of his chest. She glanced from Peter to Vaughn, to each of his brothers and then back to Vaughn. “What happened?”
“Imps,” Armand growled.
“They like to mess with the weak minded,” Rhys added, bending down and grabbing Peter. In a fluid move, he had the unconscious man over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold and was carrying him towards the front door.
“What’s going to happen to him?” Melanie asked in a hushed voice, impressed in spite of herself at the way Rhys’s muscles flexed as he carried Peter away.
“What do you want happen to him?” Vaughn asked carefully, more than willing to visit violence upon the man who dared to hurt his woman.
Slowly, Melanie lifted her gaze to his, the blue of her eyes pulling him into her. “I want him to leave me alone; let him have Vanessa, if she’ll take him.”
“You’re too kind,” Vaughn growled, anger still pulsing in his veins as he remembered Melanie falling through the air, Melanie nearly dying, Melanie’s pale face and soft gasp as the bastard talked about cheating on her.
“We’ve been friends since high school,” she started slowly, gaining momentum with each word that she spoke. “I had known for a long time that we weren’t right together but I stuck with him out of, out of….”
“Loyalty?” Armand sneered.
She scowled at him before she shook her head, “Out of comfort, familiarity.”
“Lovely,” Armand sneered once more.
Ignoring him, she turned to Vaughn, “I just want to forget about him.”
Vaughn smiled, “We seem to have difficulty erasing your memory.”
At his words, Melanie’s eyes widened a moment before she chuckled. Placing her hand over the pendant, she grinned, “And I suppose this makes it even more difficult.”