Page 12 of Guarded by the Gargoyle (Hidden Hollow #3)

10

KAEL

I wasn’t surprised when the curvy little human opened the door to her cottage. I was already attuned to her so I’d heard her moving around inside, and sensed her indecision. She still wasn’t sure if she could trust me or not. Some human male must have hurt her badly for her to be so leery of one who wished only to protect her.

Still, I understood that her trust must be earned. So I stood quietly, only cutting my eyes to the side when she thrust the bottle out the doorway at me.

“Here—can you open this? Please?” she added, rather grudgingly, I thought.

“I can,” I said quietly. Turning, I took the bottle and the opener she was holding out to me. I noticed that she was staying safely inside the cottage, secure in the knowledge that the magical wards around it would keep out any unwelcome intruders.

I wanted to point out again that I was not an intruder but a protector, but I sensed that I would have to prove myself to her before she allowed me near her. A great pity because I was already much taken with her curvy figure and her beautiful eyes.

I opened the wine bottle with no trouble and handed it silently back to her. She took it and I thought she was going to close the door in my face again. Instead, she hesitated in the doorway.

“Thank you for opening the wine,” she said.

“Anything for you, Mistress,” I told her and I meant it. My life was bound to hers now—I would literally kill or die to defend her. I just wished she was willing to believe that.

“I asked you not to call me that,” she reminded me. “Er…would you like some wine?” she added.

I nodded.

“It’s been nearly a millennium since I last tasted the fruit of the vineyard. Yes, I would like some very much,” I told her.

She gave me a look and disappeared into the cottage. I heard the clinking of glasses and a moment later she came back and handed me a delicate crystal goblet half full of the pale golden wine.

I brought it to my nose and inhaled deeply—it smelled wonderful. I had been locked in stone for centuries—truly it was good to be out in the living world again, able to taste and feel instead of just observing from my stone pedestal.

I thought that Willow would leave me then and go back inside, but still she lingered in the doorway with her own wineglass in her hand.

“Goody Albright says you’re a fallen angel,” she offered, in a way that made me think she didn’t quite believe it.

“That’s true,” I said and took a sip.

The wine tasted as good as it smelled. I enjoyed the dry sweetness of it on my tongue, though what I really wanted to taste was my new Mistress. I wondered if she would ever allow me to worship between her thighs. My last Mistress had…but I tried not to think of her. Even after hundreds of years, the memory of losing her was still painful.

“So what’s Heaven like then?” Willow asked me, sounding genuinely curious and only a little skeptical.

“It is too beautiful to describe,” I told her truthfully. “Everything the Bible says—streets of gold and walls of pearl—that’s all true. But the true beauty of Heaven is being in the presence of the Almighty. His might and power are indescribable.”

“Then why did you want to leave? Why follow the Devil, er, Lucifer, in the first place?” she asked, taking a sip of her own wine.

I shrugged.

“Being in his presence for eternity is a joy, but I also found it overwhelming. I longed for something different—something new.” I sighed. “And I got it. When the overthrow of Heaven failed, I was cast down to Hell…and then sent to the Mortal Realm to become a protector of women.”

“So your punishment for the rebellion in Heaven was to watch over women?” She sounded skeptical. “Is that really so bad?”

“No,” I said. “It’s not. As long as I don’t allow myself to fall in love with the one I am protecting. Unfortunately, that is the mistake I made last time I was flesh instead of stone.”

“You fell in love with your, er, former Mistress?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“I did,” I admitted. “Deeply. Her name was Alandra—she was beautiful. She had the same full shape you do yourself, Mistress,” I added, allowing my eyes to slip from her face down to her generous curves.

Her cheeks were pink with a blush when I looked back up at her face.

“That’s not…I don’t…” she started to say, and then shook her head. “What happened to her?” she asked instead.

“To Alandra? She died.” I could hear the sorrow in my own voice and I took another sip of wine, trying to swallow the lump that had risen in my throat. Even after all these years, her memory still burned me.

“How, though? What happened to her? I mean, if you don’t mind talking about it,” Willow added quickly.

Strangely, I found that I didn’t mind—though it still hurt, the pain was less when I shared it.

“Her husband was my key-holder,” I explained. “Meaning he had control over me.”

I saw her look down at the small golden key hanging around her neck but she only nodded.

“Go on.”

“He…he hit her.” My throat had gone thick again—it was difficult to talk about this. “I hated him for that. I wanted to stop him—to kill him for hurting her—but he held my key so I couldn’t touch him. Couldn’t do a thing.”

“Really?” Her eyes grew wide. “Not anything?”

I shook my head.

“I am bound from hurting my key-holder in any way. So I couldn’t punish him for hitting her—I could only heal her afterwards. Which I did, many times.”

I closed my eyes briefly, remembering the way Alandra had sobbed in my arms as I wrapped her in my wings and kissed her pain away. Healing was one of the angelic gifts I had been allowed to keep, due to my position as a Protector of Women.

“That’s awful!” Willow said indignantly. “Couldn’t she call anyone? Or try to run away?” She sighed. “I shouldn’t ask that—I know from experience how hard it is to leave an abuser.”

“Was the male who put those marks on you the one who abused you?” I asked, nodding at the bruises on her pale cheeks.

She nodded and looked away, taking another hasty sip of wine.

“Yeah—my husband, Carlo. Ex -husband now, thank the Goddess. My grandfather put a spell on him to make him lose interest in me but now he’s back.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

“Because I want to know,” I said simply. “And because we need to get to know each other.”

“No we don’t,” she said flatly. “I’ll be fine—I’ve dealt with Carlo before. Go on with your story—what happened to your other, er, Mistress?”

I took a deep breath—this was a hard story to tell.

“One day her husband came storming into her bedchamber,” I said. He began to hit her—to beat her. I couldn’t hit him or kill him but I could stand between them so that was what I did—I stepped between Alandra and her husband to take the blows that were meant for her. Meanwhile, she ran out onto the landing, trying to escape.

“Her husband got around me, though I did my best to stop him,” I spoke quickly, trying not to relive the bad memory as I spoke. “I followed him out of the bedchamber to put myself between them again. We were on the second floor of the house and there was a steep staircase. Alandra was there, at the head of the stairs—I feared that she would fall. I tried again to stop her husband from hitting her but I wasn’t able to touch him—the binding that keeps me from hurting my key-holder was too strong. In my rage, I allowed the Wrath to overcome me and I changed forms.”

“To your gargoyle form, you mean?” Willow’s eyes widened. “That’s pretty terrifying—I have to admit.”

“It is my demonic form,” I told her. “The ugliness of my betrayal of the Almighty manifested in physical form.”

She nodded.

“I see. So what happened?”

I closed my eyes tightly. This was the hardest thing to speak of—the worst thing of all. But my Mistress had asked me a question and I wanted to answer her truthfully and fully.

“Alandra had never seen anything but my angelic form—this form.” I nodded down at myself. “When she saw me in my demonic form, she shrieked in terror and lost her balance. I reached out to catch her but…” I swallowed hard. Why wouldn’t the lump go down? “But she pulled away from me. She wanted nothing to do with me in my other form—not even if it meant saving her life.”

“So… she fell down the stairs and, er…?” Willow looked up at me uncertainly.

“She broke her neck,” I said in a low voice. “My only consolation is that her husband fell down after her. He broke both legs and died of blood clots that traveled to his lungs in the day following. A most agonizing and painful death, I believe. Which is no more than he deserved—the bastard .”

Of course, I’d had the option to heal him—but he didn’t know that and I hadn’t offered the information. I wanted him dead and then I wanted to be turned back to stone so that I wouldn’t have to feel the pain of lost love so sharply. Flesh always feels more deeply than stone.

“So Alandra was gone, barely a year from when I first started guarding her,” I said, completing my story. “Gone because she feared me too much to let me save her. Her death was my fault. Even in my submission to the Almighty’s punishment, I cannot seem to stop hurting those I love.”

“What happened was awful for you,” Willow said softly and I looked up to see that her eyes were filled with pain. “But it’s not your fault.”

“Yes, it is,” I said fiercely. I squeezed the wineglass in my hand convulsively and it shattered suddenly. I let the shards pierce my fingers and felt the sharp pain as the alcohol seeped into my wounds—physical pain is always better than emotional pain. It’s so much cleaner.

But my actions upset my new Mistress.

“Oh—look what you’ve done!” Willow exclaimed, her green eyes wide. “Come here—come in and let me get that glass out of your hand!”

She reached out and grabbed me by the wrist.

I felt a shock run through me—an instant tightening in my groin as my shaft got hard.

Willow must have felt it too because she gasped and for a moment she dropped my hand.

“What…what was that?” she asked uncertainly.

I shook my head.

“I don’t know. Some kind of magic?”

She frowned.

“Well, magic or not, you’re dripping blood. Come on.”

She grabbed my wrist again and this time I felt nothing but her soft fingers on my flesh. Tugging me with her, she pulled me into the kitchen of the cottage.

“Are you sure you want me in here with you?” I asked, looking around at the interior, which was very cozy. “I thought you feared me.”

“That was before you hurt yourself. Come over here to the sink.”

Willow was all business. She plucked the glass shards carefully out of my hand, leaving them in a blood-smeared pile on the side of the sink. When she was sure she’d gotten all of them out, she turned on the water and let the cooling flow pour over my injured hand.

I watched in bemusement as my new Mistress attempted to heal me. Wasn’t it my job to heal her instead? Alandra, my old Mistress, had never worried about me getting hurt. Even when I stood between her and her attacker and took blows meant for her, she never asked if I was all right afterwards. She had been beautiful, but self-absorbed and yet, I couldn’t help loving her—she was my Mistress.

“There,” Willow said, breaking my train of thought. “I think that’s good and clean now. If I could just get some paper towels…ah-ha!” She reached for a white cylinder that had suddenly appeared on the counter at her words. “Gotta love a house that gives you everything you want as soon as you ask for it,” she remarked and tore off several thin sheets from the cylinder. She used these to blot my hand dry. “Okay, I don’t think any of the cuts were too deep, so if we can just find some bandages…”

“No need,” I said. Peeling off the thin sheets of absorbent paper, I showed her my hand again.

“Oh! You’re already healing!” She looked at the rapidly shrinking cuts in surprise. My injuries were sealing themselves. “How is that possible? Is it a gift?”

“I do still possess the angelic gift of healing,” I told her. “But I believe the reason I am healing so rapidly is the care you gave me.”

“What? But how is that possible?” She shook her head, looking confused.

“Though I am now flesh and have also been stone, I was an angel first,” I said. I flexed my fingers—my hand was now completely healed. “In the Heavenly Realm, emotions and intentions have physical consequences.” I cupped her cheek which was soft and warm and looked down into her eyes. “I’m healed because you cared for me, Willow,” I murmured. “Thank you for caring.”

“Oh, I…” Her cheek grew even warmer and she dropped her eyes for a moment. “I don’t…I just didn’t want you to be hurt.”

“Thank you,” I said again. “I can heal you too, you know.”

“Heal me?” She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“Here.” I brushed my fingertips lightly over the bruises on her pale cheeks. “Will you allow me to heal these ugly marks?”

“How, though? I mean, how can you heal me?”

“Like this.” Taking her face in my hands, I bent down and pressed a soft kiss to one bruised cheek. I put all my will to heal into the kiss—all the emotion I felt for my new Mistress. She had already captured my heart with her compassion and beauty—I wanted to make her better.

“ Ohhhh ,” Willow sighed as I finally ended the kiss. She looked up at me uncertainly. “You can heal with a kiss?”

I nodded.

“It is one of the angelic powers I was allowed to keep. Will you let me heal your other cheek as well?”

“I…I guess so.” Her voice was soft and breathless. I could hear her heart beating as rapidly as a little bird’s. Her warm, sweet feminine scent came to me, proclaiming her desire. She wanted this healing more than she cared to confess.

Ducking my head again, I kissed her other cheek. This bruise was closer to her mouth and I took my time, letting the healing power flow through me.

Then she turned her face and for a moment our lips met.

Willow gave a little gasp and pulled away…then she put her arms around my neck and kissed me again—harder this time.

I was more than willing to return the kiss, especially when I felt her melting against me. She was so soft and warm and her curvy body felt so good against mine. I could feel my shaft getting hard as her sweet lips parted for me and I was able to taste her more fully…

Then, suddenly she pushed me away.

“No, we can’t…can’t do this!” she panted, her eyes wide and panicked. “I don’t even know you!”

Reluctantly, I stepped back from her. “I’ll go now,” I said and headed for the door.

“Wait, you don’t have to…I mean…” She paused, nibbling her lush lower lip indecisively. I wished I was nibbling it instead. “I feel bad about making you stay outside all night,” she said at last.

I shrugged.

“It won’t hurt me. I stood outside on my pedestal for centuries, watching the world go past. One more night won’t be the death of me.”

“But still…” She paused again and then blurted out, “So there’s no way you can hurt me? I mean, while I’m wearing the key?” She nodded down at the golden key that glimmered between her breasts.

“No way,” I echoed. “Not that I would, even if I could. I am a Protector of Women—I would sooner burn in the Lake of Fire than injure one of the fair sex.”

She gave a little laugh, her cheeks going pink.

“The fair sex? Your speech is so old-fashioned!”

“Forgive me,” I said with dignity. “As I said, I have been locked in stone for centuries.”

“No, no—it’s not a bad thing. I like it,” she said quickly. “Look, why don’t you sleep down here tonight? As long as you don’t come upstairs, I don’t mind having you in the house.”

“I do not sleep,” I said gravely. “But I can rest. I will stay here and guard your slumber, Mistress.”

“You don’t have to call me…oh, never mind.” She waved a hand and sighed. “I’m going to pour another glass of wine and take a bath now. I’ll probably have to run some more hot water—I’m sure what’s in the tub is stone-cold by now.”

As she filled her wineglass, I thought about asking if I could help her bathe…and then thought better of it. Alandra had allowed me the privilege of seeing and bathing her naked body, but I sensed that Willow was more shy and retiring than my old Mistress had been. The fact that she had kissed me was surprising—I shouldn’t push for more.

“Good night, Willow,” I said instead. “I wish you deep slumber and sweet dreams.”

“Thank you.” She gave me a tentative smile. “Er, good night, Kael.”

Then she turned and hurried back up the stairs with her glass of wine as though she thought I might follow her.

But of course, I didn’t. She had asked me to stay downstairs and so that was where I would stay. I would break my vow and go up to her only if I heard sounds that led me to believe she was in danger of some kind. I didn’t anticipate anything like that, though—we were alone in the house and it had many magical wards around it.

I settled down on the couch before the fireplace where a low flame flickered. I had much to think about…much to consider about my new Mistress. I could still taste her sweet lips and feel her soft, curvy body pressed to mine.

I was already falling in love with her.