by Price,E A
Martha… well, she was big on community spirit, and big on insisting that everyone else get some community spirit – whether they liked it or not. Bossy, hectoring, and strident were words tossed around when thinking of Martha. Chris couldn’t really fault her – except for a hitherto unknown callousness to dogs. She wasn’t exactly mean; she was just pushy. She was also hankering after Chris to date her after they enjoyed a couple of meals together at the diner. That kind of attention was not something he needed on a day-to-day basis, and feeling that Gwen needed the work more, he was all set to hire her until Martha’s cousin – head of the town council – intervened and not so subtly told him to hire his cousin.
Martha belonged to a large, extended family that made up a sizable percentage of the town population, and on a side note included Maggie who was currently living up at the mansion with the gargoyles. Although with the exception of her pastor uncle, Maggie didn’t seem to get along with most of her family – she was considered the oddball.
Course, Chris was all set to ignore him completely and hire Gwen, but Gwen suddenly changed her mind about wanting the job, and no amount of cajoling from Chris could change it back. He figured it had something to do with the head of the town council also being Gwen’s landlord. The young woman wouldn’t want her sick mother being thrown out onto the street.
So, he was now stuck with Martha. She was efficient enough, but when someone called the station with a problem, he didn’t really like her giving advice down on the phone on how to handle the issue. Ruefully, he couldn't deny that her interfering might be more helpful than a police presence for some of the petty arguments he got called for, but there was a chance her meddling could make it much worse, too.
His phone rang, and he grabbed it. “Devil’s Hang Police Station.”
“Chris! That is Chris, right? Sorry if it’s not but you sound a lot like Chris.”
He relaxed back into his chair and smiled. “Hey, Melissa, how’s it going?”
Melissa Sanchez was an old friend, an FBI agent he’d worked with back when he was a detective in Portland. They’d gone on a few dates, but work always seemed to intervene, and it never got any further than a peck on the cheek goodnight. He’d liked her a lot, but they’d both been more interested in starting their careers than settling into a relationship.
“Good, good, can’t complain. Well, I twisted my ankle a couple of weeks while I was out investigating a UFO sighting, but other than that, good.”
When he met Melissa, she was a junior agent assigned to white-collar crimes. Now, she was the only agent in the Portland FBI assigned to weird cases – UFOs, Bigfoot, aliens, werewolves and so on and so forth. She had a tiny office in the basement, and her section didn’t even have a name. Technically it didn’t exist. But that wasn’t part of some conspiracy; it was just that no one took her investigations seriously enough to push the paperwork through. Chris was surprised that the young, ambitious agent had agreed to work those cases. Although, Melissa was at heart a decent and kind person, and perhaps not ruthless enough when it came to her career.
They exchanged pleasantries while he proudly told her about Brenda’s straight As and she told him about a cute thing her cat had done the other day. Bob growled at the word cat, but Chris grabbed his squeaky ball and threw it across the room. Bob watched it, gave Chris a look and then settled onto the floor.
“What can I do for you?” Chris asked as Melissa finished the story about Lion-O climbing her curtains.
“Actually, it’s work related. A got a report from a couple who just spent the weekend up in your neck of the woods that they saw a giant bat flying around during the two nights they were there. Said they reported it to one of your deputies who told them other people in town had seen it, too.”
Chris stilled. He remembered when he’d heard reports like this a month ago, putting them down to bored kids making stuff up. Now he knew the truth. Damnit. Either Craig or Tim had shot their mouths off and it had made it to the FBI.
“Giant bat?” he repeated.
“Yeah, I know. The couple wasn't exactly clear. The husband said a bat; the wife thought it might have been a griffin. When I interviewed them, they got into this huge argument over it.”
“Sure, a griffin, that seems much more likely.”
“Yeah well, investigating unlikely things is my life.” Melissa let out a long breath, not unhappily just resignedly. “This is one I’d usually pass on given that they both admitted they’d been drinking when they saw it. Apparently, they were there on some fancy pants wine tasting weekend.”
“Yeah, we get a lot of those.” Some of the B&Bs had them. Wine, witchcraft, and antiques were their main attractions. And now gargoyles he thought uneasily.
“But, they are friends of my boss’ boss - so I couldn’t say no, and given what they were told… Any thought on the bat?”
Chris told her the same thing he told the town council when they last brought it up. “You know the town has a history to do with witchcraft. It was probably just someone trying to drum up tourists. I don’t know, probably just some radio control helicopter with a blanket over it.” Something Maggie had done before on one of her midnight tours of the town to scare tourists. Given that the blanket caught fire and the whole thing got stuck in a tree, it worked.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t be surprised. I thought I might come up next weekend to take a look around – at least I can say I tried to investigate. What do you think? Will you be around?”
She held her breath as she waited for his answer. The last time he’d been in Portland, he took her out for dinner – payback for a favor. He made sure it was just a pizza and wings restaurant – definitely nothing romantic. Chris made himself clear he wasn’t on the market for anything romantic, but maybe she didn’t want to take the hint.
“Sure, we could get together. I can introduce you to the locals, and you could have dinner with my niece and me.”
“That sounds great; I’ll call you nearer the time.”
Melissa rang off and Chris stared at the phone. She sounded far too excited. He’d let her down gently of course.
Why he was so against anything with Melissa, he wasn’t sure. She was great – funny, charming and shared his interests. He could easily take it slow and date her, getting together every few days for dates. It would be easy. It would be normal.
No, he couldn’t. His chest clenched at the thought of it. But for once, not because of everything he went through with Mara. No, all his reticence was due to a purple-eyed gargoyle whose image would not stop taunting him.
Chapter Four
Ingrede strode into the kitchen, beaming and carrying baby Wolfe. Wolfe dutifully threw his cherished stuffed penguin at Annis, who fumbled and caught it and gave it back to him. The boy adored it and in spite of his father’s attempts to extricate it from him, was not giving it up. He was little more than a month old, and he already possessed the stubborn gargoyle spirit.
“Annis, take care of Wolfe for me.”
Ingrede strapped him into his modified high chair. Gustave had cut out part of the back to allow for his tiny wings and tail.
“I…” The syllable squeaked out of Annis’ mouth, and Ingrede looked up expectantly.
Annis looked at the ground. Her bouts of confidence were fleeting. Ingrede was a strong female warrior and not the first to order her around. Annis had no right to refuse Ingrede anything. But the fact that the female just demanded Annis take care of her young, without a thought of how convenient it was for her, irritated her.
“Of course,” Annis muttered.
“I will only be in my bedroom with my mate, call if you need me. Cai was sparring with Gracchus and lost, I must attend to his pride.” Ingrede chuckled and began to leave. She paused and looked at Annis. “I am grateful that I can trust you with my son. Do not think that I am not.”
Annis gaped at her as she left. The female gargoyle just showed her kindness – gratitude! By Arthur’s sword, this really was a new world!
She pushed aside her surprise and pulled some carrot sticks out of the refrigerator for Wolfe. He greedily munched on them. He already had his teeth, but they were small and needed to remain sharp.
Annis kept an eye on the small gargoyle as she returned to her spaghetti. She was still learning to cook, but everyone assured her that her version of spaghetti was perfect. She had not been so sure when she became adventurous and tried adding sugar – a TV cooking show had been extolling the virtues of sweet and salty food. But everyone had said they liked it. Although perhaps what they liked was not cooking it themselves. Gustave and Bea were excellent in the kitchen but were often too busy to prepare such large meals. Other than laundry and taking care of Wolfe, Annis had no other use, which was why she was trying to learn how to cook.
She heard female laughter echoing throughout the house. Kylie, or maybe even Ingrede. All the gargoyles had been given bedrooms in case they wished to use them. Brom and Grey eschewed setting foot in theirs, but the others made some use of them. Ric used his to, ahem, entertain Brenda whenever she visited, and Gracchus had a small TV in his. If ever he found the common room too busy, he would sometimes go to his own room to watch his programs.
Annis used her own to change clothes. Being naked was not something a gargoyle should feel shame over. Drago certainly didn’t. The large male slouched around without a stitch on. It annoyed both Luc and Ric no end; they insisted on covering their mates’ eyes whenever he was wandering around in the nude. Annis did not feel shame at seeing the other gargoyles naked. No, the shame was all for herself. She did not want them to see her body unadorned. They already knew her body was less than perfect; they did not need to see the full extent. She was curvy where she should have been muscly. Her body was much more human than it should have been.
Plus, she did not like to admit it to the others, but she had started taking more care in her appearance than she ever had before. She had once spent over an hour trying on her clothes in front of a mirror, trying to see which of her outfits suited her best. Not that she had many. Her wardrobe was very meager, consisting of a couple of modified dresses and some tops and skirts she had made from some old curtains. Her kind was not well suited to clothes and tended to wear scraps of fabric and loincloths. Gargoyles were not supposed to care about clothes. Which is why Drago’s old clan shunned them completely. It was probably one of the reasons his clan was considered undefeatable in battle – that kind of thing was probably distracting.
But, she spent far too much of her time lamenting how little she had and wondering what Chris would think of each of her outfits. Would Chris find her body too soft and too weak for his liking, like so many gargoyles before him?
Movement flickered at the edge of her vision, and she spied Wolfe trying to reach for a knife.
“No, don’t!” she cried and jogged the pan in her desperation to stop Wolfe from hurting himself.
The pan, filled with spaghetti and boiling water toppled and fell down her leg. She screeched at the sudden, searing pain, and Wolfe promptly burst into tears.
“No, youngling, don’t cry,” she whimpered.
Annis tried to move to him, slipping in the water and crashing right into a pair of strong arms. Her hands clamped onto a pair of wide shoulders, and her tail wrapped itself around a firm leg for balance. She inhaled a beautiful, vanilla scent.
“Easy, I’ve got you,” Chris reassured her, his velvety voice immediately calming and thrilling her.
She looked up into his dark, worried eyes and time seemed to freeze. It was like the moments before she had been frozen nearly a thousand years ago. Everything seemed to stop for just a few seconds before the change overtook her. Maybe she wouldn’t mind being frozen in Chris’ arms.
No, he wouldn’t want that.
“Wolfe,” she burbled, looking away from his face. If she had to look at his soft lips and concerned expression for a moment longer, she really would do something silly.
Chris gently pushed her into a chair and turned to look at the baby, just as his parents burst into the room, followed by Luc and Kylie.
Ingrede grabbed Wolfe as Cai growled, “What happened?”
He’d managed to find an ax and was brandishing it wildly. Chris, to his credit, only raised an eyebrow at the fearsome gargoyle.
“Nothing,” Annis said quickly. “I spilled some hot water. Wolfe is fine, he was not hurt.”
“Were you hurt?” asked Kylie, pushing past her mate who had held her back in case of danger.
“No,” she blurted just as Chris said, “Yes.”
He frowned at her disapprovingly, and she stared down at her leg. Her skin felt scalding hot and was turning two shades darker than her normal color.
“First aid kit?” Chris asked Kylie.
“That is not necessary,” muttered Annis.
They both ignored her. Kylie retrieved it, and Chris busied himself at the sink, filling a bowl with cool water. Cai and Ingrede drifted away, their attention taken by Wolfe.
Annis stared at the mound of spaghetti on the floor. “I ruined the dinner,” she stated glumly. “I am sorry, Chief. Please, I beg forgiveness.”
Kylie waved a hand. “Nonsense, it was an accident. As long as you’re not hurt, that’s all we care about.” She elbowed Luc, and he agreed.
“I am well, thank you,” she said, trying to rise, grimacing at the pain in her leg.
“Sit back down,” snapped Chris, moving to kneel in front of her. “I swear you’re worse than Brenda.”
Luc growled lowly, and that earned him another elbow to his stomach. Gargoyles didn’t like it when humans snapped at any of their kind. Although, they had no problem with gargoyles snapping at other gargoyles.
If Chris noticed Luc’s annoyance, he did not show it. He placed the bowl on the ground and used a cloth to dribble the water over her leg, making her flinch. After a few moments, she sat back and grimaced.
“This isn’t working,” grumbled Chris, “where’s your nearest shower?”
“This way,” said Kylie.
Annis tried to stand but within seconds she found herself swept into a pair of surprisingly strong arms and being carried as if she weighed nothing. Chris didn’t buckle at all, didn’t falter in his steps. One arm was around her waist, while the other was under her knees, carefully making sure he did not touch her injured leg.
He followed Kylie down the hallway, storming past Ric and Brenda who gave them inquisitive looks.
“This is not necessary,” she whispered, feeling more than a little like a nuisance. Chris should not be put out because of her clumsiness.
“Gargoyles have stronger healing abilities than humans,” grumbled Luc who was following them.
Annis looked down in embarrassment. Most gargoyles did. Her own left a lot to be desired. It was much better than a human’s, but not nearly as fast as a normal gargoyle’s. Judging by the way Chris moved a little faster, he had perhaps seen the expression on her face.
He deposited her onto the toilet and started fussing over the shower, trying to get the water right. Luc huffed and puffed until Kylie led him away.
Annis grimaced at her blotchy leg.
Chris caught the look. “Are you in a lot of pain?”
“Not really. Mostly, my leg feels numb.”
She was used to pain. Growing up with her mother, she had to be. Gargoyle younglings were mostly raised by other members of the clan – the older members no longer able to fight, or pregnant females. But her mother made her presence and disappointment known constantly.
“I can get you some ibuprofen or something.” Chris rubbed the back of his head at her quizzical expression. “Guess they didn’t have that back in your day. What did you use to dull pain?”
Annis shrugged. “We didn’t. Even if we had anything, I doubt a gargoyle would use it. With pain there is honor.”
“Bullshit,” he snapped.
“It was my clan’s creed.”
“Maybe it should have been, with
pain there is stupidity.”
“It was a different time,” she said with a slight edge to her voice. Annis had no great love for her old clan, but loyalty was important. What was a clan without loyalty?
Chris gazed at her until she blushed and looked away. Humans should not be that dominant. Or perhaps she looked away because of the worrying feelings he incited in her.
Annis fiddled with the hem of her skirt. “Every clan used to have a healer, one blessed with enough magic to heal their clan mates,” she babbled, needing to fill up the silence. “I was the assistant of our clan’s healer.”
“So why don’t you become your new clan’s healer?”
“I don’t have the magic. The older healer has to die, and there has to be a ritual. I suppose technically, as it is a new clan, Luc could perform the ritual himself and ask that he be given a healer.”
Chris raised an eyebrow.
“It is to do with magic,” she muttered, knowing he would not understand.
“Sure,” he scoffed.
“You do not believe in magic?”
“I believe in things you can touch and see.”
“Yet you have a rational explanation for a race of creatures who turn to stone every day?”
Gently, he lifted her to her feet and slipping an arm around her waist, led her over to the shower.
“The water should be okay now, but it might sting a little.”
He held her hand, his flesh soft and his grip hard. As she gazed into his eyes, she barely even noticed the bite of the water.
Chapter Five
In spite of Annis’ fluttering and Luc’s objections, Chris had managed to get her to down a couple of ibuprofen along with some crackers to save her stomach lining. Luc did not trust human medicine and was extremely skeptical of painkillers that could potentially be harmful. That declaration earned him a sour look from his mate. Chris had covered Annis’ leg in plastic wrap and told her twice not to pick at it. He left Bob the dog to look after her. Something that delighted Annis and for a second he felt a twinge of jealousy at how fond she was of the unruly beast.