Page 11 of Never Been Gargoyled
My snarl ripped out, I swear making the ground tremble. “What?”
“Botanical garden. Oh, are you hard of hearing? You’re yelling a lot. You should consider seeing a specialist. The hearing aids they make nowadays are much better at screening out all but what you want to listen to, and they’re nearly invisible. No one would notice you’re wearing them at?—”
“I’m not hard of hearing!”
She smirked. “I might be if you keep yelling.”
My wings drooped. All of me drooped. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, no problem. You must be the enthusiastic type. So, back to my request. See, I have some heavy boxes in my car I didn’t bring in yet. I’d planned to lighten the load in each and make more trips, but seeing as you’re here with me, and you’re all gorgeously muscled, maybe you could?—”
I scowled. “You think I’m gorgeously muscled?”
“Aren’t you?” She stared at my arms. My bare chest. My thighs revealed below my loincloth.
I’d made myself don something rather than fly around naked like I had last night. Helgawould’ve chided me if she saw me without clothing—and tittered, saying something about my ass. She’d been as bold as… “You’re Helga’s great-niece?”
“Yes, I just told you that.” Her sunny smile didn’t fade one bit. “Could you do that for me? They’re in the back.” She left me—left me! –and strode around to the rear of her vehicle, pushing a button to make the hatch open.
I followed like a puppy, though I should be storming around, flapping my wings to create a great wind.
Scaring her away from the estate.
“There they are.” She pointed to two stacks in the back. “You don’t need to put them in the right rooms. The front parlor would be fine. I can hold the door open for you.”
Before I could stop myself, I was grabbing two boxes, hefting each onto my shoulders, and following her up the front steps and inside the house. She stopped in the left parlor.
“Where do you want them?” I asked gruffly.
“Oh, anywhere will do.” She vaguely waved to the floor.
“No, I meant which rooms?”
“Aw, aren’t you sweet.” She tapped my forearm.
Thud. Thud-thud-thud-thud. My heart took off like I’d burst off the roof and flown halfway toward the moon.
A gargoyle’s heart only?—
“This one can go to my bedroom.” She pointed to the box on the right. “And the other belongs in the kitchen. You’re really a sweetie, aren’t you?”
I was not a sweetie. I was a fierce, growly gargoyle whose sole role was to protect this estate from intruders.
But…
Dazy wasn’t actually an intruder. She said she inherited the manor and grounds from Helga.
“Prove it,” I barked, lowering one box onto the kitchen counter and feeding her a solid, gargoyle glare that should put her in her place.
“Prove what, that you’re a sweetie?”
Why was her voice going all cutesy and high-pitched?
“I am not a puppy,” I roared.
“No, you’re a gargoyle. Puppies are adorable, though, don’t you think? I like dogs, but I adore cats, so I might get a kitten once I’m settled. I love the way cats are so independent, don’t you?”
I slammed my fist onto the counter. “Prove you own this estate.”
