When A Gargoyle Kidnaps Read online

  “So, do you want spaghetti?”

  Her mother grimaced. “I’m not very hungry.”

  “I’ll make you something anyway.”

  She settled her mother and brought her the new books she had checked out from the library.

  “Thank you, baby.”

  Gwen shrugged as her mother gave her that sad, apologetic look she always did and went back to the kitchen to clean it and cook for the two of them. Her mother always felt so guilty about being sick, but it wasn’t her fault, and while Gwen felt a tiny, occasional twinge of resentment about it, she loved her. Her poor mom had been diagnosed with cancer four years ago and had been undergoing treatment off and on since then. For a while, they thought she was in remission, but it returned, and the treatments started all over again. While she had her good days, her bad days were awful.

  Her mom worked part time, but she didn’t make much as a cashier at the grocery store. It was hard to find a job where the hours were incredibly flexible, and the boss didn’t mind the fact that her mom took loads of sick days. Gwen was convinced the owner of the store only gave her mom the job because Martha charmed him into it.

  Gwen cleaned up and decided on heating up one of the pot roasts Bea had made for them. Several people in the small town made them meals to freeze so that Gwen could just heat them up whenever she needed them.

  Gwen put together a tray and carried it into her mother's room. She perched on her bed and as they ate – her mother like a bird – and watched a soap opera. Gwen murmured her surprise that Antonio had come back to life, while Marta – who had previously had a hysterectomy – could now be pregnant with twins. Her mother explained that Antonio faked his death and Marta had been duped into thinking she couldn’t have kids by the villainous Martinez. It made perfect sense.

  After dinner, Gwen left her mother engrossed in a new book, pulled on her sweats, dragged her hair back into a messy bun and fired up their old laptop. Wifi was a luxury she wouldn’t usually spring for, but her neighbor, Tilly let them use hers for free.

  Her mom hated taking charity, refused to do it out of pride. But Gwen was way past being prideful. Had been ever since her dad took off when she was sixteen because things were too tough on him. Yep, her mom was in near-constant pain, Gwen was working and going to school full time – and things were too tough on the out of work butthole. She remembered watching him pack up his car. He left while her mom was sleeping. He turned and gave Gwen an embarrassed smile, and said, “I’m sure the two of you will manage.” That was it. The last thing he said to his only daughter.

  Now, she took what she could get from her neighbors and friends and just didn’t tell her mom. She could be a downright leach, but she didn’t care.

  She pulled up the town website and smiled as the snow started falling. Martha – the town busybody - hired Gwen to design and put the whole thing together. Busybody perhaps wasn’t fair. Martha was just efficient, organized lots of things, made lots of people happy and then had the nerve to be both beautiful and a nice person. She was just one of those women who annoyed others by being perfect. Cow.

  But, as for the website, Gwen was proud of her work, not just because of the money. She was proud that other people could see it and enjoy it and take pride in it as well. She was just sad that there wasn’t more to do. Martha said she should update it and log the hours it took her to do it, and Martha would ensure she got paid for them – and Gwen didn’t doubt that as Martha always got things done. But it was little more than a half hour out of her day – and not every day.

  While grateful – again to Martha – for the job in the library, she found it tedious. She also worked some part time hours in Bea’s antique store which again was boring, and as for the sporadic dog walking… she was definitely a cat person. She wanted something that she could enjoy, something to flex her creativity. Even her suggestions about book displays and moving the categories around to different shelves in the library had fallen on deaf ears. Myrna, while nice enough, liked things done her way, and Gwen did not get a say.

  She had loved web design at school, but given her mom’s worsening condition and a distinct lack of funds, college wasn’t in her future.

  She sighed, trying to tamp down feelings of self-pity, and started adding bits of news to the site. The Hendersons got a new dog – an imported poodle from France. Karla Johansson won a full scholarship to study design. Blah, blah, blah. She could do this in her sleep.

  Maybe she would change the design of the website, really give her something to work with. The snow had been cute for Christmas, and she had hidden Santas all over the site for kids to find – they won a prize if they found them all – but maybe she should try something else now that it was the New Year.

  She was just pondering that when a message popped up on the board.

  ‘I find the snow absolutely charming. I particularly enjoy reading the news section and look forward to the daily updates. Praise should be given to whoever created this website.’

  Gwen read it over and over, her insides warming. It was posted by someone called TG. She tried to run through everyone in town who could be TG. Terrence Gibson, Teresa Galway, Tim Green and, ugh, Tom Gellar – her ex-boyfriend. They were either too young or too computer illiterate or too much of a douchebag to have written that. It was short, sweet and charming – so that definitely let out Tom.

  She’d never had many opportunities for dating. Her high school boyfriend was constantly annoyed that she had little free time, so it wasn’t a surprise when he dumped her shortly before graduation. To be fair, the thing she liked most about him was his car – it meant she could drive her mother to doctors’ appointments. After him, there had only been one other guy – Tom. At thirty, he was ten years older than her and had chased after her. She had to admit, the main reason she let him catch her was that his father owned the local bakery – plus two more outside of town. It meant fresh bread and lots of cakes for her and her mom, plus he had a great car, too, and he was more than happy to help pay Gwen’s grocery bill when she was a little short. Things went south when he wanted Gwen to move in with him and leave her mother to fend for herself. He was greatly surprised when Gwen told him to buzz off.

  It wasn’t just about her mom – she also didn’t want to end up married to him and hauling around five kids while he was off spending time with his twenty-year-old girlfriend. It was what happened to Tom’s mother. Tom was okay, but he was kind of an ass. When she told him she was disappointed not to get to go to college, he laughed and said a girl who looked like her would be wasting her time there. Not to mention when they were shopping in Portland and she saw him kick a homeless guy that he considered was in his way. No, she definitely did not want to end up with Tom, a thought that was reinforced after they parted ways.

  Tom didn’t exactly take being dumped well and spread it around town that she was a ‘using bitch.’ Gwen wasn’t exactly proud of her past relationships. She knew she’d used both men, but… Nope, she couldn’t rationalize it – she’d chosen both men because they would benefit her and her mom. She wasn’t proud of that fact, but she had tried to be a good girlfriend at the time even if she felt like a fraud inside.

  TG. Perhaps it was someone from outside town. Had to be – everyone in town knew she was the one in control of the website. They’d just say well done to her on the street – they wouldn’t bother with the message board. No one in town used the message board. Perhaps it was someone who didn’t listen to gossip.

  Gwen ummed and ahhed for a few minutes before she finally decided to post back.

  *

  Tristan debated whether he should post anything. Then after he did it, he debated the issue over and over again. What he hoped to achieve, he was not sure. But doing it, somehow made him feel more in touch with the outside world, more a part of the town that he could only watch from afar.

  He posted as TG – Tristan the Gargoyle. Not particularly imaginative, but he doubted any human would be able to work that out.<
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  “We have to go home,” complained Joely marching into the room to collect her coat and purse.

  Brom followed, cradling her six-year-old, Daphne. Both Brom and Daphne leveled glares at her.

  Joely and Brom were recently mated, and Brom was having difficulty with the fact that Joely insisted that she and Daphne live in the human town, rather than move to the mansion to be with him.

  “You should stay here; your place is with me,” growled Brom, his thick tail twitching agitatedly.

  Daphne pushed out her bottom lip, pouting like crazy as her arms tightened around Brom’s neck. Tristan had no experience with human children, but he was greatly surprised at Daphne’s acceptance of Brom and all the gargoyles. According to Brom, the girl barely even batted an eyelid when they met, even complimented him on his tail!

  “Suck that lip back in, Daffy,” chided Joely, “you have a bed at home, and that’s where you’ll be sleeping.”

  “Mommy!”

  “I forbid you from leaving!” rumbled Brom. But while his voice was resolute, even Tristan saw the wariness in his eyes.

  Joely cocked her head to one side. “Babe, it’s late, I need to get the troublemaker home – I really don’t have time to roll around on the floor screaming with laughter right now.”

  Brom grumbled under his breath, and Joely led him out of the room, trying to placate him.

  Tristan snorted. Admittedly he had known Brom for only a short time, but the male had made himself known to be boisterous and gruff, and openly declared that he would never be whipped by a female as he believed Luc and Ric to be. Apparently, those days were over, because Joely was definitely not about to roll over for her new mate.

  The distraction gone, Tristan turned back to the computer to find a message waiting for him, and he could not deny a small thrill as he read it over and over.

  *

  Gwen twisted a loose strand of hair around her finger, waiting to see if TG would respond. She had typed out several responses. One gushing over his praise and going into detail about why she chose the colors and graphics, another just a simple ‘thanks, man’ – keeping it loose and all that.

  In the end, she went polite and simple and posted using her full name - Guinevere. Who knows – perhaps this was someone who would be interested in hiring her for more web design… hey, she could dream.

  ‘Thank you. I hoped to create a website that would do justice to the charm of our town. Have you checked out the town’s history page? We have an interesting back story.’

  Gwen fidgeted for a few moments. It was silly sitting there, waiting for a response. The person was probably long gone. They probably just posted something polite and then left the page, not intending for anything further.

  She was about to close down the computer when a new message popped up.

  ‘I have read it, thank you. It was indeed fascinating. Is there any further reading on the subject? I should like to know more.’

  *

  Tristan found himself smiling as he read her response. He had read the town history a few times and found it interesting. Unfortunately, the late professor’s well-stocked library didn’t include anything about the town history. He had a lot of fiction, and books on magic, but apparently the town itself held no interest for him.

  This Guinevere rattled off a few editions that could be found at the local library. He wouldn’t be able to get them himself, but he was sure Maggie or perhaps Martha would be happy to pick them up for him. Martha seemed almost beside herself to try and help them in some way. Her mate, Drago seemed beside himself to ensure no other gargoyle got within five feet of her.

  Guinevere. It was a name that he understood was now considered old-fashioned. It was refreshing to find that it was still in use. The female herself seemed charming. If she is a female… When he started using the computer, Chris gave him a long list of warnings about people who lied in order to trap people and have them send them money. There was apparently a scheme where people promised a large return of money for just a small investment – it involved a prince who was not actually a prince. Chris told him not to trust anyone – ever.

  But he doubted there would be any harm in chatting with this Guinevere. For all he knew, she was a ninety-year-old great grandmother who enjoyed afternoon tea and crocheting doilies. Technically, Guinevere could even be a male who for reasons of his own had chosen a female screen name. Though, he doubted it.

  Something within him stirred at her responses, something he could not even identify. Pleasure, perhaps?

  ‘They sound interesting, have you read them all?’

  ‘Yes, I had to when researching the history – not that it was any chore. Not that reading any book is any chore.”

  ‘I quite agree, my…” He stopped typing and searched for the right word. The term clan mates was accurate, but she would not understand that – and that would open him up for questions. His tail flicked, and he settled on friends. ‘My friends think reading is a waste of time, but I cannot think of anything better to do with my time.’

  *

  Gwen smiled with pleasure.

  ‘I agree,’ she typed, ‘I always max out my library card.’

  Though, she didn’t bother to mention the fact that she rarely managed to get through the books before she had to take them back. She usually fell asleep reading them, but it was nice talking to another bookworm.

  ‘Are there any books that you can recommend that I may not have read?’

  ‘Oh my gosh! Where to start…’ Gwen glanced around her bedroom. It was stacked with paperbacks in various degrees of falling apart.

  She still had all the books from her childhood, as well as a large collection that she had picked up for a steal at various yard sales and second-hand bookstores. Hey, she got a copy of Cold Comfort Farm for ten cents – can’t go wrong with that.

  ‘What do you like to read?’ asked TG.

  ‘Actually, anything.’

  When she was younger, her dad had hogged the TV, spending nearly every spare moment of his time watching it. It meant that Gwen had to find her fun elsewhere, so she had read everything she could get her hands on. That continued to this day – buying and reading anything she could.

  “What are some of your favorite books?’

  Gwen’s eyes drew to her treasured shelf – filled with the books that were so dog-eared they looked like a weak gust of wind would tear them apart.

  ‘The Princess Bride, Carpe Jugulum, Cold Comfort Farm, Northanger Abbey, One for the Money – to name but a few. I kind of have eclectic tastes, but mostly I love things that have humor in them.’

  ‘I have read Northanger Abbey; it was wonderful. I will try to seek out the other titles you have suggested, thank you.’

  ‘I hope you like them.’

  ‘I am sure I will.’

  Gwen hesitated. She should sign off. It was getting kind of late for her, and she still had half a dozen things to do for tomorrow. But she didn’t want to; she wanted to continue talking, wanted this warm bubbly feeling in her stomach to continue.

  Through working two jobs, she had little time for friends and had lost touch with the kids she went to school with. It was nice to be friends with someone, even if she had no idea who was at the other end of all these posts. But it was more than that. Talking with her old friends had never felt this… satisfying? Elating? There was just something about this TG that instinctively made her happy. Talking to him (or her) just felt so incredibly right and she didn’t know why. Perhaps she had been lonelier than she realized.

  Gwen yawned and felt her eyes droop. Yeah, she still had a lot to do, and she was already falling asleep. Reluctantly, she ended their conversation.

  ‘Unfortunately, I have to go.’

  The response came quickly. ‘Will you return to the message board tomorrow night?’

  Well, she would have to log back on to edit the website anyway. So definitely, and not just because she was already excited about exchanging more messages wi
th him (or her!).

  ‘Yes, I hope you will too. Good night.’

  ‘I will. Sweet dreams.’

  “Sweet dreams,” Gwen murmured aloud, butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

  *

  Tristan smiled and closed down the computer. Exchanging words with this female, Guinevere – for surely she had to be a sweet female – had been almost exhilarating. It filled him with a warmth he had not known in… well, something he had never known.

  Once upon a time, he had almost been mated. It was to be an arranged mating with another clan, thought up by his leader. She had been a thoughtful young gargoyle, less aggressive than other females, and he had enjoyed her company as she had his. But the mating was ended before it even began. Her clan’s leader insulted his leader, and all ties were immediately broken. She was mated to someone else within a month. He had felt disappointed by this, but while he had liked her, she had not incited such feelings of pleasure in him as he was now experiencing.

  Tristan stood and stretched out his wings. He set forth for the professor’s library. He would find those books she suggested and devour them.

  *

  The next day Gwen could not wait to check for messages. Helpfully, at the library, she was able to use the computer and had sporadically checked the board all day. Or maybe that should be, unhelpfully. She was disappointed that there were no messages from TG all day. But he did say ‘tomorrow night’, so perhaps he was busy in the day – probably working like her.

  Still, she was itching to talk to him again. She was so preoccupied she barely even noticed Tom and his date in the diner when she went in to collect Myrna’s lunch for her. Tom sneered at her, whispered something to the lissome young woman with him and then she snickered. A few days ago Gwen might have blushed and been embarrassed. Now, she could care less and gave the two of them a haughty smile. Seemed like they deserved each other. Joely winked at her and slipped her a free cupcake.

  After work, both the library and stock taking at Bea’s store, she virtually skipped home. She found her mother in the kitchen actually making her favorite dish – chili and fresh cornbread.