Page 2 of Secondhand Garagyre

“Nothing,Mom.It’sabsolutely nothing.”

Chapter One

LAITHOG

Sheis back again.Thesoft sound of a voice pulls at me from the dark depths of unconsciousness.Itreally shouldn’t surprise me, but after centuries of peaceful solitude, mine is ruined by one incessantly caterwauling human female.

Myexistence is such a cosmic joke.

Iam unsure which deityIpissed off, butI’mnot sure how much more of thisIcan take.Ido not even have the option of revealing my fleshly body to rid myself of the irritant before me.

Infact, it is sure to make my life an utter misery…not that it could get much worse than it already is.

Thefemale in question does not come every day, nor is she the only crying womanIhave dealt with in my long life, but she is the only one who has penetrated my mind through the depths of mystoneslumber.

Itis a concept that does not fill me with any level of comfort.Whydid this specific human and her suffering call to me?Ihave never cared much for her species.Icertainly did not before mymates’ death, and my apathy for them has only grown over the centuries.

Noone and nothing catches my interest, not anymore.

Except, apparently, this one vexing creature.

Ugh!Whydid she insist on sitting on the bench situated directly below the concrete pedestal my stone-shrouded body sat on?

Surely, there is somewhere else for her to cry out her misery…?

Isthere no end to her tears?

Amere human should only possess so many of them before they run out.Onlythe gods know thatIran out of tears long ago, and the ones etched into my stone face are the last onesIcried before succumbing to my grief.

Thesound of sniffing and a nose blowing brings me back to the nuisance before me.Ithas taken some time for me to care enough to look at the headstone of the grave she lingers at.

Thename etched into the stone is a man’s name and after listening to her many, many,MANYone-sided conversations,Ihave figured out the dead man is her brother.NotthatIcare or anything absurd like that.Myinitial annoyance with her is the first conscious thoughtI’dhave in longer thanIcare to think about.Idon’t remember the last timeIhave been awake for any measurable length of time.

Iam sureIshould care, but when you have had half of your soul ripped from you, not much matters after that.Ihave finally been forced to use a small portion of what little magickIhave left to perform a translation spell.Listeningto a whinging female is one thing; listening to her wail in another language is downright impossible.

Iam not sure why the gods have chosen to let me remain while everythingIloved is ripped from me.Maybeshe would shut up and let me go back to sleep.Softlyspoken words ruin that delightful possibility for me.

“HeyPatrick,I’mback.Itold youIwould be.Sorrythat it took me so long to come visit you this week.Workhas been absolutely overwhelming, andI’vecrashed shortly after doing chores every evening.MomandDadtold me to tell you hello.Iknow neither of them has been to visit you since the funeral, butIalso know you wouldn’t be mad at them.You’reactually probably pretty pissed at me for spending so much time here.Youdid always want me to be more social.”

Thefact that her voice is husky with tears should not have made my long-dead cock twitch deep within my stone casing.Mycock hasn’t been hard in millennia.Well, that is to say, my fleshly cock hasn’t been hard in millennia, andIam getting more than a little annoyed with myself.Mycurrent situation is untenable and the more interest my body shows in her the worseIfeel.

HowdareIbetray my mate?MybelovedIlayahan, who was the embodiment of everything aGaragyrefemale should be.Wewere merciless on the battlefield together and were inseparable.Theonly thing stronger than our lust for battle was our lust for one another.

Wehave what the humans call an “FandF” relationship, (thanks to the weepy little human,Inow know all sorts of new words and terms) with the exception that we fought demons and fucked each other every chance we had.Howlong has it been sinceIhave allowed myself to think about her name?

Theecho of pain that shimmers through the broken bonds of my soul make rage spark within my chest.Thissoft, weak,whimpering human should not be the one to cause my body to rouse, not that it should have in the first place.Itis an insult to the memory of my dead mate and everythingIhave suffered since she was taken from me.Thegods knowIlong for peace and to be left alone.Surely, that is not too much to ask for…

Determinationfills me asIforce my mind and body into stillness, then retreat deep within myself, allowing the darkness to claim me.

Iwould not awake the next time this human visits my corner of the cemetery.

ThisIvow.

Chapter Two

PAISLEY

Twodays later.

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