Page 14 of Moist!
chapter three
“What the hell are you doing, Atlas?” a deep voice bellows across the cave. “As if this place isn't moist enough already, you have to cause a fucking avalanche?”
My head swivels around toward the newcomer and I freeze.
My arms tremble, but I can't make myself move.
One gargoyle overloaded my brain. Two just makes me think I've fallen into an alternate universe.
Horns poke out from his silver hair, the same color as his skin, yet glittery.
As he gets closer, I realize his body is a carbon copy of Atlas's.
His face, though chiseled, is rounder. I don't know how to describe it.
Not that I need to. It's not like anyone would believe me if I told them I met a couple gargoyles in a cave.
My gaze darts behind him at the break in the wall where he probably came from. It's just a dark hole of nothingness, yet there's something there.
“Not my fault, Saxon,” Atlas grunts.
A groan leaves me when another gargoyle with dark grey skin and the same lush body comes stomping through the shadows.
His wings snap as they unfurl, sending his dark hair fluttering.
I drop my forehead to the moist ground and squeeze my eyes shut.
At least my nausea is subsiding. It would be bad enough to throw up in front of the one they call Atlas.
In front of three of them would be mortifying.
“Atlas, who is this?”
I peek at Atlas as he shrugs, his eyes studiously avoiding mine.
A set of bare feet stops in front of me and I stare at the grey skin.
It still looks like stone, and I have the irrational urge to poke at Saxon’s toes.
Since that didn't go so well the last time, I settle for blowing on them.
A strangled cry leaves him, and I sit back on my knees.
Atlas steps in front of me, forcing the other gargoyle back. “No one, Saxon.”
“Huh.” Saxon leans around Atlas and meets my gaze. “ This is no one? This ravishing creature who clearly fell from the sky? The one with raven hair and the smoothest skin I've?—”
“Knock it off. We're not keeping this one.” Atlas crosses his arms, and his wings brush my shoulders as if he's hiding me from Saxon's gaze.
“This no one has a name, ya know,” I mutter.
“You can't just make unilateral decisions for Ronan and me. Not this time.” Saxon gestures at the last man, gargoyle , who came through the portal. It's probably not a portal, but it doesn't look like it leads anywhere other than complete darkness.
“What happened?” Ronan asks gruffly.
Atlas throws his hands in the air. “Fine. She fell through a new crack in the ceiling. When I tried to put her back where she came from, an avalanche covered it. She doesn't belong down here. It's not the same. She's human. Completely and utterly human. Not a trace of anything else.”
“Clearly,” Ronan murmurs, his deep voice sliding over my skin and making me shiver. He tilts his head, the light catching the deep purple in his hair. I can’t pull my gaze away as he studies me. I swear his eyes match the plum strands. “So what's your name, little bird?”
I swallow hard and wince at the sudden dryness in my throat. “Hazel? ”
“That a question or an answer, bird?” Saxon interjects.
“This is going to be a thing, isn't it?” I mutter as I push to my feet, trying to avoid the wings. “Listen, I'm not trying to crash your…abode. If you've got another way to get out, I'll take it.”
My heart clenches, though I don't know why.
I don't want to stay here. With strangers.
Gargoyles. In the dark. It doesn't matter how sexy they are.
In fact, I should be freaking out. How often does someone come across gargoyles who came to life in front of them?
Never. They're supposed to stay statues.
I'm sure my brain will shut down soon enough.
Saxon's face falls and he turns away, his silver hair catching the dim light.
I open my mouth to console him, then snap it shut.
I don't care whether or not he's upset by my leaving.
We've known each other for five fucking minutes.
No, we don't even know each other. We met five minutes ago.
It's a blip in time. I'd probably forget about this encounter within six months if they weren't statues.
Ronan throws up his hands and stalks after Saxon. Atlas's shoulders droop along with his wings. A strong smell of burning cedar wood floats through the air, and I glance around for the source. Ten seconds later it's gone without a trace. How I even know what burning cedar smells like, I don't know.
I shrug on my jacket, then zip it up. I tug on my hat and stuff my hands into my pockets.
I don’t know where my gloves went and I’m not about to go searching for them.
Atlas doesn't move, but he will soon enough and I want to be ready.
When he finally turns, his face is stony. I wince at the thought.
“I can't take you back.”
“Listen, I didn't exactly enjoy being thrown over your shoulder and battered by your wings. I get why, but a little heads up would have been nice. Clearly, you're pretty set on taking me up top, so let's just do that.”
His face contorts, and my spine straightens as he crowds into my space. “You think I wouldn't if I could?”
“I think your friends being sad about my leaving and your attitude changed your mind.” I cross my arms, hoping it puts some distance between us. It doesn't.
“That”—he jabs his finger at the snow-filled gap above us—“was the only way out. You made the gap bigger and now it's blocked. If I had it my way, you never would have been here in the first place.”
“Well, that makes two of us.” I set my jaw and glare at him. It's not my fault I fell. And it's not my fault I'm stuck down here. Except maybe it is. I just had to try one more time with my family. I didn’t have to be on that mountain, much less on this vacation.
He steps back, his eyes narrowing. “Why aren't you freaking out? What do you know?”
“Where'd your accent go?” Because somewhere in the course of everyone showing up, his accent slipped. I wonder if he did used one to fuck with me.
He throws his hands up, then marches toward the dark space in the wall his friends disappeared through. I thought he'd yell at me more, but he just walked away. I had a dozen more questions to throw at him to keep the spotlight off myself.
A tear spills down my cheek as he vanishes, and I swipe at it with a huff.
I don't know whether I'm supposed to follow him or stay here.
The guide at the resort said if we got hurt to stay where we were.
If we moved, we could get lost. Too bad I'm already lost. I doubt they'd even know I was down here if they sent a search party.
If no one is coming for me, why do I want to go back?
Certainly not for my family. My friends?
They'll be fine without me. Most of them have dropped me, anyway.
My job? I'd like to think I can cook anywhere.
Being a line cook isn't my dream. Cooking, baking, creating dishes, having others find joy in food—that's why I became a chef.
The restaurant I work at isn't anything special, especially the hours.
Which means the only thing standing in my way of staying is Atlas, really. And the fact I'm in a cave. With gargoyles. And I have nowhere to stay. Add in this place looks devoid of all amenities and, well, it's not looking very good for me.
I huff and make my way around the cave again.
I give the portal a wide berth, refusing to chase after them.
The last thing I want to do is beg them to help me.
The walls glisten with moisture and a shimmer winks off the rocks in the dull light.
Other than the large pedestal in the middle, it looks like every other cave I've seen.
Smells like one too, as if rain sits heavy in the clouds, waiting for one more molecule to be released.
It's comforting, a reminder of my childhood.
A time before I realized I was unwanted, the spare, the mistake.
I shake my head, dislodging the memories. I realize I'm close to the portal. The rock here is darker, different. My fingers brush the edge and a shock zaps me. I stumble back, shaking out my hand.
Against my better judgment, I reach for the wall once more.
There's another shock, but I'm ready for it this time.
I close my eyes as the current runs up my arm and an image flickers behind my lids.
Atlas with his head hung low, wings drooping like before except no cave, no darkness.
It's a different time—a different place.
My breath catches in my throat and my eyes fly open. I must have hit my head when I fell. My mind is merely confusing reality with fantasy. Or something. I tuck my chin to my chest and focus on calming my racing heartbeat.
Strong fingers appear through the wall and wrap around my wrist. Before I can react, they yank me toward the rock. Burning cedar invades my nose. As darkness overtakes me, I resign myself to my fate.