Page 7 of Secondhand Garagyre

Gravellyraspedwords spoken by a being that shouldn’t exist freeze me in place.Acombination of disbelief, horror, and terror hold my body hostage on the benchI’vebecome intimately familiar with over the last few months.

Aquick glance over at the pedestal confirms what my mind doesn’t want to believe.Thegargoyle that sat there… is kneeling in front of me.Ican barely wrap my mind around the concept.Thecreature in front of me is a gargoyle but… not.Theposition of his stone body hid several of his features from me.

Hisface is… interesting and definitely not human.Thearmored brows jutting out over the eye sockets and small horns emerging from his chin prove that along with skin colored a deep purple, eggplant is the shade that comes to mind, that merges into an inky black at the points of his body where the sheen of scales can be seen in the fading light.

Inote that his hands and feet are covered in pitch-black scales, and all his digits end in wickedly sharp-looking claws.Blackhorns beginning at his temples curve down around the sides of his face, ending in wicked points that jut out to the side, awayfrom his jawline.Hishorns appear to keep his bright silver hair out of his face, along with a few random braids here and there in the waist-length tresses.

Anintricately designed leather kilt with silver stitching is wrapped around lean hips, and my eyes drift further down to observe the same digitigrade lower limbsIobserved on the statue, ending in claw-tipped three-toed feet.Movementout of the corner of my eye brings my attention to his tail.Ithas crept closer to me, almost as if it has a mind of its own.

Ahuff of amusement brings my attention back to his face.Mygaze caught in jade green eyes that possess a vertical pupil, like that of a… dragon.

Whaton earthishe?

Thehand at my jaw is a whisper of touch, as if he’s afraid to jar me in my current state.Iwatch his other hand move methodically, with exaggerated slow motions, until it reaches my tightly clasped hands.Itbemuses me that he gently begins to massage the stiffness out of my hands.

Thiscreature, whatever he is, is showing me more care than anyone has since… well, since my brother died.

Evenas terrifying as he looks, he hasn’t made a move to hurt me.Itmakes me relax, minutely, but my body appreciates the release of tension nonetheless.TheabuseIsuffered last week at the hands of men is still too close, and my body can’t handle anything else right now.Ifa human man could put me in this shape, what could the being in front of me do?

Thatthought makes me pause.This, this isn’t a man at all.Heisn’t even human, so why shouldIjudge him based off humanstandards?Ishouldn’t assume that this creature will do me harm just because he is male.

Idon’t think a human man has ever touched me as tenderly as this being is currently touching me.Iallow my gaze to drop to my hands, surprised to see that they’ve completely relaxed while in his tender care.Mymind is too preoccupied with gawking at him to realize he never stops soothing the rigidness out of my bloodless fingers.Afterseveral moments of silence, where he allows me to look my fill,Ihear him clear his throat, as if it has been a long time since he has spoken before he repeats his initial question. “Littlefemale, who did this to you?”

Itstrikes me as odd.Thatis what he wants to know?Ofall the thingsIexpected him to ask, that isn’t even in the top ten. “Whydo you want to know?”Iquery.

“Because, when you tell me,Iam going to find the ones responsible and drain every drop of blood from their bodies!” he says, starting out softly but ending with a vicious hiss, baring impressively long fangsImissed during my initial observation of his person.Histeeth are all sharp, like those of a predator.

Thesudden menace he exudes causes me to jolt backwards, a groan of pain escaping me as my body protests the abrupt movement.Littlesparkly lights flash everywhereIlook, and my head spins with dizziness.

DidIeat today?

“Shhh, now.Yourbody is battered enough as is.Idid not mean to frighten you.Iam sorry, little female.”

Stutteringa bit,Irespond as another wave of lightheadedness hits me. “My… my name isPaisley,”Imanage to stutter out, my tongue tripping over the words.

“Paisley, it is nice to finally meet you.IamLaithog.”

Hisname is the last thingIhear before the shock and pain overwhelm me, andIpass out in a dead faint.

Chapter Nine

LAITHOG

Muffledcurses escape me asIwatchPaisley’sgolden eyes roll and her body go limp.

Iquickly, yet gently, reach forward and catch her delicate little body.Shehas been through enough, and my matriarch raised me better than to let a female fall after she swoons.Mypurple skin and black scales are a stark contrast to her pale, freckled laden skin that is not covered in bruising, that is.Ido not like that her wounds mimic the color of my hide.

“Now, what in the blazes doIdo?”Iask, my voice rife with exasperation. “Idon’t know where you live, don’t know whereIam, or even what time it is.Letalone the fact thatIhave not eaten or drank in centuries.Asdelectable asIam sure that you taste,Isincerely doubt you would permit me that liberty.Furthermore,Ido not trust my self-control right now either,”Ifinish with no small amount of self-recrimination.

Ipause in the process of scooping my female up, removing her from the hard bench asIrealizeI’mtalking to myself, somewhat like a being that has lost his mind.Scoffing,Iease myself down onto the bench wherePaisleyhas spent so much of hertime, careful not to jostle her maltreated body.Hissingat how uncomfortably cold the bench is the moment my rear touches it,Isurge back up.

Witha quick glance down at the precious bundle in my arms,Iensure that my actions haven’t caused her any undue pain.Herface remains smooth, nary a frown to be seen.Standingthere frowning at a bench in the middle of a cemetery is not my finest moment,Imust admit.

Myass is not touching that frigid bench.

Irefuse.

Withmy hands full of soft female,Iuse my tail to smooth the back of my kilt close to my thighs asIre-descend, gingerly easing myself down, ensuring the fabric is between my flesh and the mercilessly chilled bench.Iam shocked that she has sat here repetitiously without complaint.Ihave known warriors with less fortitude than she.

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