When A Gargoyle Dreams (Gargoyles Book 5)

by E A Price

  Martha’s cheeks turned an appealing shade of pink as she fluttered her eyelashes. “If?”

  “When,” he corrected, wondering how he had managed to let that word slip out. It gave the false impression that she still had a choice in the matter. If she didn’t want this, she should have run when they first met. Though, they still would have found one another in their dreams.

  “I am not an easy mate,” he grumbled, feeling that he should let her know exactly what she was in for.

  Martha giggled and stretched out her body, flexing one of her long legs in a very attractive way.

  “In the last week you’ve had to rescue me repeatedly – based on evidence, do you think I’m an easy mate?”

  “I would tear the world apart to keep you safe,” he growled with feeling.

  “I believe you would, but please don’t,” she replied with equal feeling. “I love you, you know.” Said as a statement, rather than a question.

  He’d suspected that, hoped for it too, but when she said it, it still startled him. “When did you… know?”

  “It’s been pretty much growing since my first dream about you, but I think I realized it when I was in that trunk of that car.”

  She looked at him expectantly.

  “I… also…”

  “Llllll – starts with a L,” she encouraged.

  “Love you,” he growled if only to stop her teasing, but he did mean it. She did what no one else could for him – she made life worth living.

  “When did you…”

  “Since the moment we met. You are… spectacular.”

  Martha’s face lit up in delight. “Not a compliment I’ve ever received before.”

  “It is the only one I can think of that does you justice.”

  She traced the line of his jaw. “I think you are spectacular, too.”

  Clearly, his mate was delusional, but she was perfect in every way imaginable. Carefully, he covered his sweet mate with his body, marveling that the bed took his weight with barely a creak, and they spent the rest of the night in each other’s arms.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Martha followed the giggles, awkwardly wondering whether she should join the other women.

  She and Drago had spent the night making love over and over until he was forced to leave to sleep. After a lengthy nap and foraging for frosted flakes, she was at a loss as to what to do with herself. So she went looking for company – she just wasn’t sure if she would be welcome.

  She found Kylie, Maggie, Joely, Brenda and Joely’s daughter Daphne sitting on the floor in the living room. They quieted when they saw her, and briefly she worried they had been laughing at her.

  “Hi.”

  “Hiya!” cried Daphne giving her a huge grin, before returning to making her Barbie and Ken dolls kiss.

  Everyone smiled politely at her and Martha hovered in the doorway.

  “Have you guys seen my dad?” Maybe she could hang out with him – he was her father, surely he was obligated to spend time with her.

  “He’s out in the garden with Danica,” said Kylie. “She set fire to some curtains earlier. They decided to take a long walk. She’s kind of a live wire.”

  “Yeah, I like her,” enthused Maggie, always one to relish anyone weird. “How are you feeling?” she asked, her forehead wrinkling in concern.

  “Fine, much better, thank you.” Martha took a deep breath and took the plunge. “Look, I know that I haven’t exactly been friendly in the past…”

  Joely snorted. “Babe, you saved my daughter’s life – I could care less whether you tried to put a voodoo curse on me in the past. You’re my hero.”

  “And you make Drago happy,” added Brenda, “we had no idea that was even possible! We need you around here.”

  “You were never mean to us,” said Kylie, “that was Valerie.”

  “Yeah,” scoffed Maggie, “didn’t you hear? She’s engaged to Phillip. She announced it at the New Year’s party – which became her engagement party. Glad I wasn’t there.”

  “Really?” asked Martha with mild interest.

  “You don’t seem surprised.”

  “I walked in on them making out.”

  There was a chorus of eews, followed by some outraged sentiments.

  “Ugh, they deserve each other.”

  “Buttheads.” Which would have been assholes, but was toned down in deference to Daphne.

  “I give it a year.”

  “Plus,” continued Kylie, “we weren’t exactly nice to you either.”

  Joely nodded. “Yeah, the things we said behind your back…”

  Martha blinked. “What things?”

  “Nothing, come and sit.” Joely threw another cushion on the floor. “We’re pigging out on ice cream because Kylie’s pregnant and she needs cheering up.”

  “I don’t need cheering up exactly,” said Kylie. “I’m just a little worried.”

  Martha sat down next to Maggie who beamed and bumped her shoulder.

  Brenda snickered. “About the baby having Luc’s giant head?”

  “Well, I wasn’t, but now I am!” Kylie almost growled.

  “You’re pregnant?” asked Martha.

  “Yes, and I’m terrified.”

  Martha gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m sure you will be fine.”

  Kylie grimaced. “No one’s ever given birth to a half-human, half-gargoyle baby… that we know of.”

  Martha shrugged. “In my dreams, I… ah…” she blushed as she realized she had only admitted this to her father who had already dreamed the same thing. “I saw myself pregnant with Drago’s child. I mean, I don’t know when or if that would happen, but it felt real.”

  They all looked at her.

  “Probably best we don’t mention it to him – he’d fly a mile,” she joked.

  “More like freak out if anyone tried to even look at you in case it might be dangerous to both you and the bubs,” Brenda scoffed.

  “So you really do have mystical psychic powers?” said Kylie.

  “I guess I do.” Though not very reliable ones – she couldn’t deny that.

  “I can’t believe this!” wailed Maggie. “You are the least weird person in our whole family, and you’re the one who gets freaking witchy powers? Unbelievable!”

  “Drago said he knew you through his dreams?” questioned Kylie.

  “Yeah, I’ve been dreaming of him for months, and when I crashed my car, he came for me.”

  “Aww, that’s a little romantic,” said Joely approvingly, “and definitely beats me trying to beat Brom to death with my mop when I found him in my kitchen.”

  Brenda giggled. “Yeah, well, I met Ric when he tried to grab me, and I bit him.”

  “I was drunk and kissed Luc while he was in his stone state, and he came to life,” added Kylie.

  “You weirdos,” said Maggie, slightly smugly. “Andrew and I met the normal way – when friends introduced us, and then I proceeded to steal him from his girlfriend.”

  “Whatever happened to Lara?” asked Martha, remembering the snooty woman who had once threatened Martha with bodily harm for laughing at one of Andrew’s jokes. “Did she just leave town?”

  Maggie winced and glanced at Daphne before lowering her voice. “Actually, she was evil, and an even more evil gargoyle killed her.”

  “Not one of…”

  “Not one of the clan,” confirmed Kylie, “a former member of Luc’s old clan who wanted to mate him and is still out there somewhere. We kind of have a lot to fill you in on.”

  “Yeah – I’m still wrapping my head around everything.”

  “We’re trying to find and wake as many gargoyles as possible. Bea and Gustave are searching for a new one in Spain at the moment.”

  Maggie nodded. “Andrew and I are off to Buenos Aires later today to look for another.”

  “Drago told me that part,” said Martha. “I hope I can help. I’m not sure how helpful my dreams will be, but maybe I can travel to find them.�
��

  Brenda snorted. “Good luck getting Drago to let you go, I have trouble persuading Ric to let me do anything – not that I listen to him.”

  “Yes,” agreed Martha with a sigh, “it’s unlikely he’ll want me to go. He’s convinced I purposefully put myself in danger.” It was hardly her fault it just seemed to find her.

  “Ooh guys,” began an excited Joely while rifling through her purse, “I forgot to show you, look – Daphne did her first cartwheel today.”

  Joely held out her phone as Daphne gave them all a smug smile. They watched the video and dutifully cheered at the impressive cartwheel.

  Martha focused on the screen as the video ended, recognizing a familiar face. “Your wallpaper, is that a picture of me?”

  Joely snatched the phone back and gave her a guilty look. “I might have taken it when you came back the other night, and you were all dirty and rumpled looking.”

  “But why?”

  Joely held up her hands. “Hey, I’m human! It sometimes makes me feel better to know that a woman like you has bad days too.”

  “I wouldn’t mind getting a copy of that,” said Kylie, guiltily ducking her eyes.

  “Me too,” added Maggie. “Sorry, Martha.”

  Martha stared at them in disbelief for a moment before throwing her head back and laughing.

  *

  “You cannot be serious?” snapped Grey.

  “He’s serious, suck it up, princess,” taunted Danica.

  Luc gave Grey an unrelenting stare while the other gargoyle fumed. Why Grey had taken such an intense disliking to the female, Luc could not say. Though, he suspected it had something to do with her trying to roast them like a pig on a spit, and her insistence on calling Grey ‘princess’.

  After discussing the matter with Kylie – because she insisted on being part of all leadership decisions, they had agreed that both Allen and Danica would have refuge at the mansion until they both made a decision on what they wished to do. He was aware that the two of them had escaped and that Blackthorne was involved, but he still believed the uneasy truce between the gargoyles and Blackthorne to be in place… for the time being. He also wished to question Allen further on the facility where he was housed. Especially considering that Allen claimed gargoyles could be found there – as guards rather than prisoners. He had to consider that perhaps they were allies to Blackthorne, as Ophelia had been and possibly still was. But he needed to know more.

  Besides, Martha had also been a target of Blackthorne, and he would no sooner cast her out than he would himself. She was now clan, and had already calmed Drago and made him more manageable. Plus, Luc would not deny that the thought of having psychics around was intriguing. Perhaps they would prove helpful. He would need to question them on the nature of their abilities.

  The bickering of Grey and Danica proved to be irritating, and Luc roared at them to leave. He turned to Gracchus who smiled grimly.

  “You think it unwise to allow her to stay?” queried Luc. Gracchus was one of the few beings whose opinion he sought.

  “No, but I would be wary of her temper. When one of our other humans loses their tempers, the worst we can expect are slammed doors. She could injure someone.”

  Luc grunted. He was well aware of that. Gargoyles could withstand a little fire, humans, none. His pregnant mate would not face her flames and live to tell about it. But it had been Kylie who insisted she be allowed to stay. His compassionate mate would not turn any waifs and strays away.

  “She will be watched closely. For now, I have something I wish for you to do.”

  *

  “What are you making now?” asked Drago.

  Martha’s previous knitting had been obliterated at the beach house so she had started a new project. Drago eyed Timber grumpily. The cat was curled on her lap as she worked.

  She didn’t want to leave the cat alone at home again, and no one objected to her bringing him. Well, almost no one. If she didn’t know any better, she would say Drago and Timber were jealous of one another. But, her two boys were just going to have to learn to get along.

  Drago was sitting in front of her with some dark blue wool wrapped around his hands. Ric and Brom had been in, laughing profusely at him before a growl from Drago sent them fleeing.

  “A scarf, for you.”

  “I do not require one… but I appreciate you making it.”

  Martha beamed. He wasn’t a talker, and he hadn’t magically become one just because they had admitted they loved one another. He didn’t like talk, or noise – he loathed televisions – and did not like to read. He preferred sitting and watching her, and she was fine with that.

  “I like knitting. I like sitting here with you while I knit.”

  “I find it enjoyable also. How did you sleep?”

  “Very well.”

  “Your dreams?”

  “Were surprisingly gentle.” She had worried her sleep would be plagued by memories of everything that had happened to her over the past couple of days. Thankfully, they weren’t. “Mostly I dreamed of you.”

  “Mostly?”

  “Well,” she started before pausing, wondering if she should admit this – but if they were going to be together, he would have to learn to deal with this kind of thing. “I dreamed of Gracchus.”

  “Gracchus?” he snarled jumping to his feet, taking the wool with him.

  “I dreamed of him, sitting in an apartment on a couch, watching TV and eating Cocoa Puffs, or maybe it was Cocoa Pebbles. You know I’m not sure – some kind of chocolatey cereal.”

  Drago growled.

  Martha tugged at the wool, giving him a meaningful look. He relented and dropped back into his seat.

  “There was a woman there; she looked to be about my age with brown, curly hair. Does that mean anything to you?”

  “No.” He didn’t sound like he cared much either. As long as she was not dreaming of Gracchus in a romantic way, he seemed content.

  “How did you sleep?”

  “Well.”

  “No dreams?” she asked with a coy smile.

  “A few,” he admitted.

  “Oh?”

  “Of you.”

  “Really? What were we doing?” she teased, though he didn’t seem to notice. Drago wasn’t one to tease or react in kind when being teased.

  “We were in bed.”

  “Even better,” she murmured, excitement rising within her.

  “I kissed your…”

  She dropped her knitting to put her fingers over his lips. Timber let out a grumpy yowl and sauntered off her lap, giving Drago a glare in the process.

  “Save it for the bedroom.”

  A rare smile touched his lips, and she allowed him to pull her into his arms, holding her close and sighing in happiness. He didn’t say anything. No sweet nothings, no declarations of his feelings, no compliments, but she didn’t expect them – that kind of thing was few and far between. He’d already told her he loved her and as far as she was concerned, it was settled until further notice.

  He was nothing like the man she thought she wanted, but to her, he was perfect. Well, he was the man of her dreams after all.

  Epilogue

  “No, Mom, please, please, please! Don’t do that.”

  “Oh, Chiquita, I don’t know why you have to be so difficult…”

  Melissa Sanchez sighed as her mother gave her the usual speech. You’re not getting any younger. Soon it’ll be too late for you to have children. A good man is hard to find and how can you find one unless you don’t try. Plus, Melissa’s favorite, I just want to make sure you’re happy before I die.

  Her mother was intent on giving Melissa’s phone number to her next-door neighbor’s son – a forty-four-year-old podiatrist with two ex-wives and five kids. She didn’t have to meet him to know he wasn’t the man of his dreams.

  Melissa wiggled her freshly painted toes as her mother droned on and on. She wasn’t sure why she continued to paint them – she never got a chance to wear
open-toed shoes, and it wasn’t like anyone was going to see them. Nope, no one but her had seen them in over thirteen months.

  She peered into the mirror and tried not to sigh. The towel around her head, blotches of zit cream and the hair lightening formula on her upper lip were not exactly conducive to getting a boyfriend. But it was her beauty maintenance night. She had Grandfather Garcia’s bad skin and Grandmother Sanchez’s mustache – that while it looked great on her dad, it did not suit her in the least.

  “Chiquita,” came that wheedling tone again, indicating that she was almost done. “I just don’t want you to end up one of those women who live alone with half a dozen cats.”

  “That’ll never happen,” said Melissa nervously eyeing her rapidly growing comfort of cats. It wasn’t her fault – why did the adoption center have to make them all look so cute? She had just wanted to adopt a friend for her cat Lion-O – a cat she had rescued from a victim’s house in the course of one of her investigations. But adopting Cheetara had turned into her also bringing home Panthro and Tygra. She didn’t regret choosing them, but she worried she was on a slippery slope to crazy cat lady.

  “I swear you’ll be the death of me.”

  That was Melissa’s cue to wrap up the conversation. She said the same thing when Melissa told her she was going away to college, when she joined the FBI, when she moved into her own apartment and when she cut out dairy. Her mother had a tendency to overreact to everything.

  Melissa quickly said her goodbyes and ended the phone call, slumping into her chair with relief. Did everyone find talking to their mothers such a chore?

  She considered the other tasks she had earmarked for that evening. Cleaning out her oven. Calling her landlord to let him know the lock on the front door to the building was broken. Two weeks of laundry – she was getting close to wearing a bathing suit as underwear territory.

  Instead of all that, she sipped on her glass of wine and decided that she’d done enough mental heavy lifting for the evening.

  *

  Gracchus watched from a safe distance. She was hard to make out, but he would not risk getting closer.

  Melissa Sanchez. This was the female that Chris wished to entrust with the secret of their existence. He thought she would prove helpful. Luc wanted Gracchus’ opinion before anything else. Honestly, he did not know what to think.