by Vi Lily
So, the shock of seeing this guy's, uh, family jewels up close and personal makes me stiffen and I try to push away. I'm pretty sure he knows what I've seen, because he awkwardly closes his knees while still squatting. I appreciate the effort, because I know that isn't easy to do, not while keeping your balance anyway.
Of course, I start picturing him falling backwards, me landing on top of him and then getting really up close and personal with those…uh, rather impressive jewels he has down yonder.
But then I notice the guy's bleeding—kind of badly, actually. It's weird, because his focus is completely on me and he doesn't seem to even notice the hole in his side that's oozing bright red blood. Unfortunately, though, I do.
Embarrassed to say that I'm not the best at dealing with blood. Not at all.
Another wave of dizziness hits me then and I have to give up my struggles to move away from him while I cling to his arm for support and breathe through my mouth so I don't smell the blood. That's one sure way to flip my stomach inside out.
It doesn't help. My mouth starts watering and I'm pretty sure I'm about to lose the food I'd eaten earlier. I'm just about to warn him he's going to be wearing regurgitated venison jerky, when a shot rings out.
And at the same moment, pain the likes of which I've never felt hits me square in the back.
>†<
Avisha nearly fell over backward when the great noise rang out. It was similar to the one he'd heard before when he'd been wounded, but this was louder. It shocked him mightily. It must have startled the tiny lass too, as she jerked and pressed herself further against him.
He wanted to know what had caused such a sound, but at the moment, the girl was all that mattered. If the press of her wee body against his was any indication, she seemed to be putting her trust in him. He liked that, more than he cared to admit, that she would turn to him for protection and comfort.
It was the only thing he wanted to do—to ease her mind, provide for her needs, comfort and protect her. The wisp of a young woman in his arms was already consuming him.
And she was young. It was something that made his heart clench, the thought that she was hardly more than a babe, just barely old enough to be away from her ma and da. He snorted then. Before he'd become an inanimate statute atop a tower, girls far younger than the lass in his arms were having babes of their own.
But he was fairly certain the lass was an innocent, just based on her reactions to him.
He knew the exact moment when the lass had seen his nakedness. It was when she'd stiffened and squirmed in his arms and heat had flooded her face. He hadn't been truly concerned over his lack of clothing when he'd thought her to be a lad, but at that moment, he too had been embarrassed. He had quickly closed his legs to hide himself, not wanting to frighten his mate.
He frowned. It had to be some sort of mistake, this feeling that the lass was his. A human would never…could never…mate with a gargoyle. Even in his human form, he was too strong, too large. He could crush her without even meaning to just from an embrace.
But he knew instinctively that he could never hurt the lass. It wasn't conceivable. His instincts screamed that she was his world. And other than the Creator, his everything.
Mine.
And at the moment, she needed his help, not his clumsy pawing.
Avisha was honestly shocked that he'd been given a mate. He'd never heard of any of the other Fallen Moral taking one. The Immoral had been known to force themselves on human females, however. It was thought that was how the Nephilim had come into being.
But the Moral? Never, to his knowledge. Maybe I am the first, he thought as his lip curled up at the corner. He liked that idea, that he would be the first of the Moral to mate with a human. And to be given such a beautiful, desirous woman? Well, he had much to thank the Creator for.
He frowned again. If the Immoral had beget giants with the humans, what would the Moral progeny be like? He knew the Creator would never allow giants to roam the earth again—they were one of the reasons for the great flood—but would the Moral children be special in some way?
His mate's breathing was coming faster, almost a pant. The other corner of his lips lifted into a true smile. She must be feeling the connection as well. He lifted his hand to caress her and ran it down from her silky hair to her low back. He frowned then when he encountered wetness and pulled his hand back. It was stained crimson.
Blood? Avisha's heart started pounding as he pulled her away from him and stared down into her face. She was as white as the fresh fallen snow and looked like death had already made a claim to her. If it weren't for her rapid panting, he would have thought she had gone on to the afterlife.
Movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention then and he looked up to see the human male he had spared from death stumbling toward them.
The man had removed his strange helm and the first thing Avisha noticed was the man's strange hair—it was long on the top and front, shaved to the scalp on the sides and back and bright blue in color. It was quite startling. Obviously, it wasn't a natural color and Avisha wondered absently what in the world he could have used to dye it such an unnatural shade. And why?
His eyes flickered down to the man's hand, where he held another of those black objects Avisha knew to be a weapon. He knew then without a doubt that the loud noise he'd heard had come from that weapon, like when he'd been injured himself.
A roar loud enough to startle the birds from their perch in the trees escaped him then.
He knew the man was intent on hurting the precious bundle in his arms. While Avisha had not sensed pure evil in the man, the desperation to complete the task he'd been given was ruling his actions. And he knew from experience desperate humans were capable of nearly anything.
The need to protect the woman in his arms made him clench his muscles. He must have squeezed her too tightly, as she gave a soft moan. Avisha gently laid her back down and then crouched over her.
He then stretched both mentally and physically to allow his animal form to come over him.
In just a few heartbeats, he felt the massive wings shudder from his spine as his skin stretched and crackled, turning almost reptilian in texture. Throughout the centuries, humans—those who had mistakenly called the gargoyle "dragons"—thought they were covered in scales. That was probably due to the nearly impenetrable nature of the skin. It was better than any human armor.
But he was reminded that it wasn't perfect protection, as he stretched once again and felt the sting from his previous injury. He ignored the pain and pushed at his muscles, forcing them to expand to their full size.
Avisha watched with satisfaction as terror crossed the man's face. He flapped his wings, not to take flight, but to cause intimidation. He smirked as he watched his opponent's face pale to the color of undyed linen, a grisly contrast to his uncanny blue of his hair.
Although there were none about to hear him, the man screeched, "D-d-d-dragon!" Avisha rolled his eyes.
"Gargoyle, ye eejit," he growled.
The man's eyes were huge, and he seemed frozen in place as he stared at a creature before him that he probably had thought to be just a myth.
Avisha didn't want to leave his mate, not while the man still held that unknown weapon, but the need to hurt the enemy was great. Yet again, he rued the Creator's decree declaring that he could not kill a human being who wasn't true evil.
In the heat of the moment, Avisha thought that the breaking of the decree would be worth the punishment. But now that he'd discovered his mate, he didn't want to be relegated to another stony perch to sit indefinitely in inanimate sleep.
But he would feel better if the man who had dared to hurt his mate was…removed. Permanently.
Avisha tried to convince himself it wasn't a need for vengeance that he felt, but just a desire to protect his mate at all costs. And now she was hurt and needed attention—attention that every fiber of his immortal being longed to give her—yet he was being forced to deal w
ith this speck of a human. Not quite a man, not quite a boy.
He flapped his wings twice and ran forward, grabbing the man around the throat. His paw was so large that it wrapped completely around the enemy's neck. Avisha tightened his grip a bit, a satisfied feeling coming over him when the man's eyes bulged.
"What is this?" he growled as he lifted the man's hand. He was still holding the unknown weapon and Avisha moved his arm to the side, away from him and the girl. The man tore his eyes away from Avisha's and looked toward his hand, as if he'd forgotten he still held the weapon.
"The g-g--gun?" he asked in question, as his frightened eyes flew back to Avisha's.
"What does this 'gun' do? How did ye hurt my—the woman?" He needed to know how she had been injured with the thing in order to know how to help her.
The man seemed to suddenly remember that it was in fact a weapon he held, even though Avisha had just asked him what it was. He was glad to see he'd rattled the man so much.
A slight twitch in the man's cheek warned Avisha that he intended to use the weapon against him. He could feel the muscles in the man's arm flex as he tried to turn the weapon toward him, and Avisha gripped the man's arm more tightly, making him yelp in pain.
He leaned closer to the man. "Do no' try it, human," he growled as he tightened the paw holding the man's neck even further. He needed answers, and quickly. His woman was bleeding while he wasted time with this man.
He shook him once, hard. "Give me the answer I seek and I willnae pop yer wee head off yer shoulders."
The terrified man swallowed against his palm. Avisha loosened his grip just a bit, hoping the man would relax somewhat and give him the information he so desperately needed.
"Uh, well, it shoots a, um, piece of metal at a high rate of speed. It's, uh," he swallowed again, and his eyes flickered over towards Avisha's mate. He tightened his grip again. He didn't even want the man to look at her.
The man's eyes flew back to his. "It's quite deadly." His voice dropped to a near whisper at that, and Avisha noticed he spoke with a strange accent.
He narrowed his eyes and leaned even closer, his breath making the man's blue hair flutter. The man flinched and turned his head away. Avisha didn't know if it was because he thought he was going to eat him, or if maybe his breath was a bit stale after so much time.
"Ye mean to say ye tried to kill her?" The last he said with a roar, his breath coming so violently the man's sapphire hair blew completely back off his face.
The man's eyes widened further, something Avisha didn't think was possible. "I had t-t-to," he wailed.
"D-d-d-Dr. Smythe would k-k-k-ill me if I d-d-didn't!"
His stammer was getting worse as he death knocking upon his door. Avisha didn't want to tell him he was mistaken; unfortunately, his death wouldn't come by his hands…or paws.
Avisha didn't have time to ask who "Dr. Smythe" was, nor did he care. That was another enemy for another time. At the moment, his only concern was helping his mate.
"What do I need to do to help the lass? How is this injury healed?" he growled.
The man's eyes darted to the ground where the girl lay, but quickly flickered back to him. He had a look that said he thought Avisha was stupid, so he gave the man a little shake to rattle his teeth.
He gulped. "Uh, s-s-she needs to g-g-go to the hospital. If the bullet is s-s-still in her, they h-h-have to take it out."
Avisha didn't know what a "bullet" was, but assumed it was the metal projectile the man described. He also didn't know what a "hospital" was, and the lack of knowledge made his impatient gargoyle form tense with the need to rip something apart. If he couldn't fix one thing, he'd destroy another.
With a snarl, he yanked the offending weapon out of the man's hand and smashed it into little metal bits with his free paw. Avisha nearly laughed when the man's eyes nearly popped from his skull. He then turned and launched the man back into the bush he'd tossed him into before.
"Begone with ye!" Avisha roared at him as he turned back to his mate, completely dismissing the insignificant human from his mind.
The girl was still pale as a ghost on a winter's eve, but she was still breathing, a fact for which he thanked the Creator. He crouched down to her once again, not bothering to try to return to human form. He knew he would not be given that boon again anytime in the near future.
He sighed, hoping the lass would stay asleep. He knew she would be terrified to see him as he was. All humans were. Other than once seeing his reflection in a pool of water, Avisha had no idea what he really looked like, and if he were really as terrifying as the humans always seemed to think he was.
As gently as he could, he turned the girl to her stomach and then carefully shredded the clothing she wore down the back with his razor-sharp claw and peeled it away. His heart clenched at the sight of the expanse of creamy white skin splotched with crimson. While he was most concerned with the unknown injury, he didn't miss the fact that the lass was too thin. He could count her ribs through the skin.
She'd obviously suffered a great deal in her short life. Starvation, for one. Add to that the pursuit from those men working for this Smythe person, and now this injury…well, his heart went out to her and all that she'd been through.
As he knelt in the misty, wet forest, at that moment he vowed to himself that the girl would never again miss a meal or suffer from another injury. Not as long as he had anything to do with it, anyway. If he had a say in it, he would see to it that she was wrapped in layers of lamb's wool and coddled like a fragile piece of pottery.
Avisha clumsily brushed at the precious blood oozing from her wee body with his huge paw and saw the wound—a small hole, far too small to be bleeding so much, was situated nearly in the center of her back, just to the right of her spine.
The man had said the weapon ejected a projectile that traveled at a "high rate of speed." Avisha frowned then as he wondered if such a thing could possibly travel completely through a human body. He hadn't noticed any blood on the lass's front, but to be sure, he turned he back over and pulled her clothing from her body.
Though he tried to keep his eyes where they needed to be, he couldn't help but glance at her bare breasts. They were tiny; the lass certainly wasn't of the buxom variety. Her breasts wouldn't even fill his human palm.
He thought they were absolutely perfect.
It must have been due to the mate instinct, because he thought everything about the girl was perfection, although others might not find her as beautiful as he. The world would see a chin too pointy, eyes a bit too far apart, lips a bit too full. Most would think her boyish figure was unappealing.
Avisha frowned at his thoughts. He didn't want anyone thinking ill of the girl.
Forcing his eyes and thoughts to the task at hand, he didn't see a wound on her front, meaning the metallic object—"bullet," he corrected himself—was still in her body. And Avisha had no idea how to get it out of her.
A soft moan drew his attention to her face. The lass's eyes fluttered open then and she blinked a few times, apparently trying to focus. He grimaced, knowing his gargoyle form was going to cause her…distress. Most found him abhorrent at best, horrifying at worst.
But to his shock, the girl didn't even flinch as she grabbed onto the leathery skin of his arms and pulled herself to within inches of his gruesome face. He immediately wrapped an arm around her to steady her and fully expected her to scream in terror, yet instead she pulled herself even closer. Even in her current muddled state, she seemed to sense that he would not—nay, could not—ever cause her harm.
Her voice had a raspy quality to it on top of the huskiness. "No doctor…can't…go…hospital."
The man had mentioned this "hospital." Avisha frowned, thinking it must be a place for healers. He wondered if the word she used—"doctor"—meant healer now in this time. If that be the case, then he wanted to find one as soon as possible. She must have sensed his thoughts, because her grip tightened.
"Promise…no…doc
tor." Her wee body arched then as a pain spasm apparently swept through her. Avisha wanted to roar against the unseen object hurting his mate. Her glazed eyes found his again and he didn't miss the pleading. He nodded slightly in agreement, against his better judgment.
Her panting became more shallow as she struggled to get the words out. He tried to hush her, to stop her from spending energy she didn't have, but her weak grip tightened on his arms.
"Please…get my…" She paused, then licked her lips while her eyes flickered wildly around the area.
"Get my…baby…" Her eyes rolled back then and Avisha couldn't help but give the girl a little shake to get her to finish what she was saying. Her baby?
The girls' eyes opened again and seemed even more unfocused. "Carlie…back there…cave…look for…cleft in…rock…" And with that, the lass lost consciousness once again.
She has a babe? His heart lurched and Avisha wanted to roar at the unfairness of it. The girl couldn't be his mate, not now, not if she'd already found another.
While it was unfathomable and inconceivable that a gargoyle shifter might take a human for a mate, conversely, he didn't want to know that she belonged to another. He knew it was illogical thinking, but his monster roared in frustration.
His skin nearly crawled at the thought of another touching the lass and having the right to do so. Of another's lips kissing her, different arms holding her, another voice soothing her. He had to push down the growl that wanted to escape his lips at the thought of it.
But even worse was the fact that he would always long for the girl, knowing she was his mate. And being unable to complete their bond due to her previous commitment.
His life—his eternal existence—would be a living hell.
But hers doesn't have to be, he thought to himself as he carefully lifted the girl into his arms. Humans didn't have the capacity of recognizing a mating bond, so she could live her life blissfully unaware of any feeling of being incomplete. There would be no longing for another—for him—that seemed to be as absent as a missing limb. She could be happy. Maybe not as wholly cherished and adored as she would be as his mate, but perhaps she could still live a fulfilling life.