Page 40 of Howl for the Gargoyle

Run, pretty toy.

I shook Sarah's voice out of my head and turned to run. Hannah howled behind me, the hunter's cry, and my wings beat, picking me up into safety. My heart was drumming heavy and fast in my chest, and I wasn't sure if it was arousal from Hannah's touch or…

I ignored the thought and spun in the air, swooping down over Hannah's head, landing and tugging on her tail before she could swing around. She yelped, and I jumped back into flight as she dove in my direction. Back and forth we went, weaving erratically through the trees. I touched down often, aware the game wasn't fair if I spent it all in the air, but Hannah learned my patterns quickly, and more often than not my toes barely touched grass before I had to jump again to avoid being caught.

I'd had a client once, early on, who'd demanded I not fly. Another who'd climbed and leapt from tree to tree, tackling me from the air. Sarah, my last werewolf before Hannah, had simply been too good a predator, hiding from me until I let my guard down.

Hannah was simply…having fun. Growling and snapping and grunting with effort, but puffing out breaths of laughter any time she went skidding through the underbrush after just missing me.

And yet I could feel myself getting stressed. A little spike of nerves and urgency made that drumbeat in my chest falter as she nearly caught me once more. Her claws skimmed the sole of my foot, and I shuddered at the screech of those sharp tips against my stone skin, the scratch echoing up into my head. I flew higher without thinking, and Hannah paused on the ground, blinking up at me with those moon glass eyes.

"Cheater," she called.

I laughed, but the sound was ragged, and I fumbled my way onto a sturdy tree branch to catch my breath.

Hannah circled the tree trunk, prowling and pausing. Her cheeks were flushed from the activity, nipples tight and pointed either from excitement or the chilly night. She was beautiful, and I was…

What was wrong with me?

Hannah stood straight again, cocked her head, and let out a soft whine. Her wagging tail slowed. I was ruining the game for her by hiding up here. I needed to go back down. Let her catch me.

Anxiety sharpened once more, and I sucked in a sharp breath of air.

I didn't want Hannah to catch me. I didn't want her to throw me to the ground and scratch those sharp claws over my skin because…

It hurt. It hurt when Sarah would yank me back by one of my wings, when Nicolette would do her best to carve marks into my chest. It'd been part of the job, and never permanent damage, but it had hurt.

Hannah sank, knees bent up to her chest and arms wrapped around her shins, a little bundle of muscle and fur and those bright eyes watching me. Patient. She whined again, but the sound was soft, resigned.

I was thinking about other clients, I realized. Not Hannah. Other werewolves, not Hannah.

I don't want to hurt you.

I know.

I let out a long, slow breath of air and stepped off the branch, wings spread to catch air and slow my descent. Hannah stood and stepped back, not just making room for me but making room between us. She'd only ever been playing with me, a game we were both meant to be enjoying. I'd just gotten lost in a tangle of thought I hadn't even taken the time to notice before now.

"Come here," I said, ignoring the tremor in my voice.

I might've flinched, still stuck in my head, but I didn't have time. Hannah was pressed to my chest, her nose against my throat before I could so much as blink. She was hot to the touch, her palms crawling up the planes of my back, claws tickling against my skin. And luckily, my own instincts when it came to touching Hannah far outweighed old memories. I grabbed onto her as an anchor against my own thoughts. She purred in my ear, nuzzling my jaw.

I relaxed against her at last, cocooning us with my wings, and it was all the surrender she needed. I was on my back, breath whooshing out of me, her hands protectively bracing my wings so they had time to spread out before being crushed, and then there were three moons above my head—the one in the sky, and the pair of bright glowing eyes staring down at me. Hannah was grinning again, and she bent down slowly.

"Got you," she whispered, then nipped my nose. Her laugh was rough and guttural, and my own cracked out unevenly.

She squirmed, lying flat on top of me, still rubbing her cheeks against my throat and jaw and even down over my chest. Marking me, I realized, grinning as I sat up enough to watch her at work. Her hair curtained her face, but I could feel her breath puffing against my skin, hear the little grumbles from her throat. I had her hips in my hands, and she yelped as I hauled her off me and then threw her back into the grass and leaves, rolling to pin her there. I trapped her between my knees and hands, wings curling down to shelter us, and her eyes widened.

"Got you," I said, ducking my head to mimic the bite she'd left on my nose. Hers pinched between my teeth, and she snorted.

She reached up as I pulled away, claws outstretched for a moment, before her hand turned again, knuckles against the flesh of my wing. Gentle.

"There are…colors," she murmured, blinking and staring at my wing.

I hummed and twisted. Her vision was stronger as a werewolf. "Little fragments and particles of what makes us."

"Pretty," she said. She had the faintest lisp, her mouth not entirely used to speaking like this.

I cupped her jaw and she stilled, staring at me.

---