When A Gargoyle Dreams (Gargoyles Book 5) Page 3

  Martha wondered if the married secretary’s husband would understand that, but she wasn’t overly vindictive, so she didn’t try to rock that shaky boat by telling the man what his wife was up to.

  After much pleading, and after having his secretary transferred and getting a new, male replacement, Martha accepted his apology and agreed to start dating again, though things between them felt even worse than before.

  But then, around about the time they started re-dating was when her troubles started. The dreams. The incessant, strange, sometimes erotic dreams. Occasionally they didn’t feature the strange creature, but more often than not, they did.

  She had no idea where he had come from – maybe she saw him on TV or something – but he had a starring role in her nighttime escapades, and it was starting to affect her waking life. Up to the point where she was hallucinating seeing the creature flying when awake.

  Strange dreams were not new to her, she had been taking sleeping pills since she was a child, but they didn’t seem to be working anymore. Meaning the dreams interrupted her sleep, making her tired all the time and also making sure she nodded off at the most unfortunate times.

  Phillip’s eyes were now glued to the man currently speaking – the CEO of the company. Martha thought about reaching out to him, placing a hand on his hand, trying to apologize. But at the thought of touching his dry, papery-like pale skin she balked. A flash of her dream came back to her, of her rubbing her monster’s arm. Honestly, Phillip just seemed to pale in comparison. She knew the way she was thinking wasn’t right. It was insane to prefer a dream creature to a real man, but she couldn’t help it. Nor could she help the fact that her panties were moist from her dream, that just thinking of a creature with wings, horns and a tail was more of a turn on than Phillip could even imagine.

  Martha threw back her wine. She really needed more sleeping pills.

  *

  “Drago, come and watch a movie with us?” entreated Annis, flashing a happy, wide-eyed look at him.

  “Yes, it has a lack of sleeping, a place called Seattle and apparently romance – it is sure to be riveting,” grumbled Ric. His mate elbowed him in the stomach.

  “It’s a classic, so pipe down,” ordered Brenda.

  Ric chuckled and nuzzled her neck while she giggled. Annis’ mate, Chris was munching on popcorn and wrapped a proprietary arm around Annis’ shoulders.

  Drago viewed the happy couples with ill-concealed irritation. “No,” he grunted.

  Annis frowned. “Perhaps you would like to train with the others instead?”

  He gave her a look and walked away, ignoring the relieved breaths let out by Chris and even Ric. He was used to that in his new clan. They were glad when he left a room, none of them wanted to be near him, and he had no desire to be near them.

  Nearly a thousand years ago, when he turned to stone, he had thought it was the end, thought his miserable life was over. He had no idea he would awaken to this.

  Life was better for him; even he had to admit that grudgingly. No more torture, no more dungeons. He was now free, sort of. He and the rest of the gargoyles weren’t allowed to leave the mansion and grounds, though he knew they did – he watched them go.

  When he woke, he had been violent. After dreaming of his time in the dungeon for centuries, he lashed out. Until he calmed, he was kept chained in the basement, which did not help his mood in the least. But he managed to regain his faculties, and now he was free to move around the house to his content. Though a few of the mated males were wary about allowing him near their females. He didn’t exactly blame them for that. Reality sometimes blurred with his memories, and he sometimes mistook the person in front of him for someone who hurt him.

  Annis had been good to him, trying to help him when he initially woke, trying to help him adjust. She was perhaps the only member of his new clan he could abide. His existence before the curse had been difficult. He was treated as little more than an animal for over a decade, and on waking in this new world, he found it difficult to shake off those years of abuse. Annis had been kind and patient with him, and he bore her no ill will, but he had no intention of spending time with any of his new clan or with the humans.

  His old clan had shown their disdain for him and abandoned him; he had no interest in joining a new clan. He couldn’t trust himself to be around the others anyway. He had known no kindness in so long that he feared he could stop himself from hurting them. Even Annis. She reminded him of his late sister who had died in an attack when she was merely a child. Yet not even that might stop him when he was in one of his black moods - when the memories of his torture clashed with reality, and all he could see was red. Sometimes the memories weren’t exclusive to his sleep. Sometimes he heard something, smelled something that reminded him and it triggered the memory, triggered his fury, and it took all he could to stop himself from hurting anyone. It was why he took himself away from them. Why he preferred to be alone.

  He clambered up to the roof and took his perch, looking up at the stars.

  Things had improved somewhat since he was woken. At first, he had barely been able to speak. His voice had not been used for so long. At first, he found it difficult, but slowly, through Annis’ patient coaxing, he started again.

  He didn’t blame them for locking him in the basement. When he woke he was ready to kill them all – neither gargoyles nor humans had been allies in his past life, he didn’t imagine they would be again.

  He gazed at the twinkling stars and almost smiled. It had been years since he saw the sky. For a creature like a gargoyle, that was truly hard. They were born and lived under the sky, to never see it was a little death in itself.

  But he couldn’t deny the fact that he dreams of his torture were becoming less intense. He still dreamed with the same frequency, but the subject of his dreams had changed to the human. The one with the golden hair, sparkling blue eyes, and satiny skin. She was so vivid in his dreams; he felt like he could touch her, scent her. He imagined she smelled like cornflowers, to match her eyes.

  He still had no idea who she was, if she was even real. He did not know if he had the imagination to create her, but he could not explain how it would come to be that he was dreaming of a real woman he had never seen or met.

  He thought of the way her pink lips curved in a smile and for the first time in hundreds of years, arousal warmed his body.

  No. He didn’t want that, didn’t want her. His first thought had been ‘mate’ when he encountered her, but that was an idiotic response. She was not his mate. He would not entangle himself with another human female.

  Though, that would not stop his dreams. He gazed out over the small town, wondering if the female was real, wondering where she might be.

  Chapter Two

  Martha’s hands trembled as she unzipped her dress. It was late. The tedious speeches had droned on and on into the wee hours of the morning. Too late to return to her own home, so she was staying over at Phillip’s house. Which meant sharing a bed with him, which meant that he would want sex.

  They had slept in the same bed but hadn’t actually made love since they decided to resume dating. At first, she had demurred, wanting in some way to make him wait, to punish him for his sexual transgression with his secretary, but now revenge was the furthest thing from her mind. Now the thought of allowing him to touch her practically had her hyperventilating. Why she couldn’t say. It certainly wasn’t because of his secretary – she had barely thought about that in the last few months. She just felt strange about being with him. An act that had been natural if a little perfunctory a year ago now had her stomach in knots.

  Strange how she had no such qualms in her dreams with the smoky-colored beast. No, she let him do all manner of things to her, didn’t even faze her in her dreams the fact that he had wings, horns and a tail. Nope, she was as hot for him as he was for her.

  But that was just a fantasy she kept telling herself. Vivid and strangely detailed, but still fantasy. There was one dream
where they were merely talking. They were at her mother’s beach house – she recognized the couch they were sitting on of all things – and she was telling him about her father. A little awkwardly, he took her hand and tried to soothe her. It was a strange dream to have after the others that had all been sexual – or erotic at least. There were a few where they only kissed or hugged. Why would she create an inhuman lover only to have deep, meaningful conversations with him? Odd how her imagination worked.

  Martha pottered in the bathroom, brushing her teeth, removing her make-up and donning her nightgown. Wasting as much time as possible in the hope that Phillip would already be asleep when she had to join him in bed.

  No such luck.

  He was sitting in bed, impatiently fidgeting and waiting for her.

  The ride home from the banquet had been silent and fraught with his angry disgust. She hadn’t cared much. It was getting to the point where she was too tired to care about his opinion of anything, and that just annoyed him more. He was perhaps starting to realize that things had changed since they last dated. She had changed anyway, but she wasn’t entirely sure how or why.

  “Are you coming to bed?” he snapped as she started folding her dress.

  Martha nodded and yawned. “I’m exhausted.”

  She darted to her side of the bed and slipped under the covers, tucking herself in to an insane degree.

  Phillip placed a hand on her shoulder, and she stiffened, quashing the urge to shudder in revulsion.

  “Not tonight,” she murmured.

  “Not any night,” he grumbled and turned away, rearranging his pillows with a few violent punches.

  He turned off the light and muttered curses under his breath.

  Martha exhaled softly. One problem down, now, if only she could get some uninterrupted sleep.

  *

  Phillip gave Martha a very hostile look when she ventured downstairs for breakfast in the morning.

  She couldn’t exactly say that she blamed him. She had woken several times during the night screaming, or crying out and leaping to her feet. After the second time, he left to sleep in the spare bedroom.

  Her dreams had been varied, ranging from dangerously erotic, to mournful and finally outright odd. There had been what was slowly becoming an obligatory sex dream with her strange creature. There had been one featuring her late father – he was writing in a journal for some reason. That was probably a memory she had forgotten. Then, finally, there was a dream where George and Myrna were getting engaged. Myrna was the local librarian where she lived, and George owned the grocery store. They had been secretly dating for a long time, and it was the worst kept secret since Area Fifty-One. Everyone in town knew what was going on, but they pretended they didn’t to indulge the couple. But in Martha’s dream, they certainly weren’t hiding their feelings. George got down on one knee to propose in the middle of the street, and Myrna screamed her yes. Why Martha was dreaming about two people who were furthest from her thoughts as any two people could be, she couldn’t say, but there it was.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” she ventured.

  His eyes narrowed accusingly. “Which part? The part where you embarrassed me in front of my colleagues? The part where you refused to have sex with me? Or the part where you woke up screaming all night long?”

  “All of the above?” she joked lamely. Her face felt like it was going to crack as she forced a smile.

  His mouth tightened. “Are you seeing someone else?”

  “No!” Only in her dreams.

  “Is this payback for my secretary?”

  “Of course not.”

  He tapped his fingers on the counter as he regarded her doubtfully. “Then what is it? You’re so changed, I barely recognize you anymore.”

  “I… I’m just having problems sleeping, that’s all. I’m trying new medications, but I can’t find one that works. I just… I just need some time.”

  In truth, she always had difficulty sleeping. She was eleven when her father was committed to a mental institution, and her dreams became increasingly violent after that. Her mother insisted she be given sleeping pills, and Martha had been on them ever since. She had managed to find a balance that meant she wasn’t too sleepy, but one that meant she didn’t suffer her debilitating dreams. However, about three months ago something changed, she had no idea what it was, but something snapped, and the pills no longer worked, and she spent her nights suffering. She was trying a variety of different medications, but nothing seemed to make a dent.

  Phillip pursed his lips. “Why don’t you take the time to pull yourself together and decide what it is you actually want, and don’t bother me again until you do?”

  Martha considered arguing, considered asking him to give her another chance, but she just nodded and left.

  Phillip was just the kind of guy she always saw herself marrying. He was successful, had a beautiful house, made decent money, and he was handsome. He ticked all her boxes, he just… well, that just didn’t seem to be enough. She couldn’t help the niggling feeling whenever she was with him, that something wasn’t quite right. She could lie and say she wasn’t over his infidelity, but the truth was that the feeling was there even before that happened. He was everything she wanted, but like all her other fiancés, he didn’t seem to be what she needed.

  Maybe she should figure out what it was that she did actually need.

  Chapter Three

  Luc flicked his tail and tried to focus on Chris. It wasn’t easy; his gaze automatically wound it way back to his mate, Kylie. She was on the sofa, her lush, little body curled into a small ball, her shapely legs tucked under her while she stared moodily out the window. She had been abnormally quiet for the last couple of days, and even seemed hesitant to talk to him about anything. He was starting to find her reserve frustrating, and no matter how many times he asked if anything was wrong, she would say no. Clearly, she was lying.

  He thought of his father, he had been a good gargoyle, though somewhat old fashioned. If his father’s mate had lied to him, he would think nothing of taking her over his knee and spanking her until she told the truth. But then, she would have been a gargoyle and would have given as good as she got, and gargoyles were not known for being reticent. If something bothered them, they were generally as loud as possible about what it was. Kylie would either be tearful or furious if he tried anything like spanking her – probably both.

  Chris’ voice cut through his thoughts. “I’ve known Melissa for years and…”

  “How many years?” interrupted Annis.

  Chris’ eyebrows furrowed. “I’m not sure, eight or nine maybe.”

  “I know her well, and…”

  “How well?” asked Annis.

  Chris gave her a look of exasperation. Luc was not particularly enjoying her interruptions but he could understand. Chris and Annis were newly mated, and Annis was just coming to terms with their differences. While she was forced to sleep during the day, Chris was out in a world filled with human women. She was jealous. A feeling Luc could identify with. If he allowed it, it would torture him to think of Kylie out in the world without him, surrounded by human males.

  “Well enough, and I believe she can be trusted.”

  Chris was suggesting that they entrust his friend and FBI agent, Melissa Sanchez with their secret. Telling anyone was a danger, but they couldn’t hide forever. His clan mates were becoming bolder due to the bad weather, but that would not shield them forever. He should forbid them from leaving the grounds, but they were gargoyles, they were born to fly, born to be free. If the roles were reversed, he would not stay grounded either. At that moment there seemed to be a mutual agreement. He would pretend he would not notice any of them sneaking out, and they didn’t flaunt it in front of him.

  People had already sighted them, though they were not sure of what they saw. It would not be long until the clan did reveal themselves to the world, and having an ally in the human FBI may not be such a bad idea.

 
Annis scrunched her nose and gave her mate a stubborn expression. “I just don’t think it is necessary,” she muttered.

  “I will think on the matter,” said Luc evenly. He looked at Kylie and quickly amended, “We will think on the matter.”

  Kylie was adamant that they had to make decisions together for some reason. Not the way clan chiefs usually operated. That wasn’t to say that the mates of chiefs were wilting flowers, but they didn’t insist on being consulted over every decision. Kylie insisted however, and given her shifting mood at that moment he wasn’t about to irritate her. Not that his effort had any effect. Kylie barely even blinked an eye at what he said.

  Chris nodded and led Annis away trying to appease her. He was about to make an attempt at appeasing his own mate – probably by apologizing for whatever it was he had done even though he had no clue as to what that could be – when a grim faced Gracchus found him.

  “Chief, it’s Drago.”

  *

  Martha stared into the dregs of her chocolate milkshake. Joely, the waitress, gave her a look of concern as Martha ordered another one. She looked like she was about to say something but just nodded and left to get it.

  Even Joely knew things were bad. Martha’s usual order consisted of ice water and a Caesar salad with no dressing. Today, she’d already eaten a double cheeseburger, fries, onion rings, a slice of apple pie and two chocolate shakes.

  Things had only gotten worse since her break from Phillip. Martha was so tired from her constant dreams she could barely function. So tired, she had told Chris she could no longer work at the police station as a part time receptionist. He was fine with it. Probably pleased she thought miserably. She only took the job in an ill thought out attempt at getting closer to him. She didn’t know why she bothered; it would never have worked out with him even if he had wanted to date her – which he definitely didn’t.

  “There you are,” scolded Valerie, planting her butt in the booth opposite Martha. “I’ve been calling and calling,” she complained.