CHAPTER 5
G rady’s stomach ached. His ribs ached. Sweat covered his body.
Slowly, he opened his eyes.
Horny hexes and witch’s tits!
The gargoyle loomed over Grady, filling his vision.
Grady couldn’t think, couldn’t make sense of anything. All he could do was stare at the gargoyle in his home.
Grady was by no means a short man, but the gargoyle would have been almost a head higher than himself. The glow from the fire flickered on the gargoyle’s chiselled jaw. Sharp fangs peeked out from dark lips. Thick horns protruded from his forehead, twisting upwards. Long black hair framed his face, ending mid-chest.
He remained completely motionless, thick arms crossed over a well-defined torso and stomach. He wore nothing but a loincloth over his groin and upper thighs, the rest of his grey muscled legs on full display. Taloned claws pressed into the wooden floor.
The gargoyle’s wings remained tucked behind him right now. But Grady had seen those dark wings open wide, flapping as the gargoyle carried Grady through the air. Then what had happened? Grady had grown dizzy and then…nothing. He must have passed out, and the gargoyle must have looked after him.
The gargoyle’s black gaze fixed on Grady. But Grady remembered those eyes glowing bright red in the alley when the gargoyle saved him from the goblin and cyclops who’d attacked him.
“You saved me,” Grady said when he finally found his voice.
Slowly, the gargoyle uncrossed his arms and lifted his chin.
It was the first time he’d seen the gargoyle move despite all the times he’d stared up at him on the rooftops above.
But of course, that wasn’t true. He’d just seen the gargoyle move as he’d defended Grady in the alley.
“You were attacked and in need. I intervened,” the gargoyle said, his voice deep and rumbling. Grady imagined the gargoyle sounded like what stone would if it came alive and spoke. It sent a shiver down Grady’s spine.
“Thank you,” Grady said, still in shock.
The gargoyle bowed his head, the movement glacially slow. So different from the lightning-fast attack on the goblin and cyclops.
“You are not afraid of me,” the gargoyle stated.
“You saved me,” Grady pointed out. “Why would I fear you?” He tried to prop himself up. But his stomach spasmed with pain, and all the blankets on top of him weighed him down.
“I have saved many in this city. They still fear me afterwards when they look upon my terrifying countenance. I am monstrous to behold,” the gargoyle said, tone measured and devoid of inflexion.
“Well, you can definitely be scary, especially when you are fighting someone,” Grady acknowledged. Then he shrugged. “But I’ve always found your presence kind of reassuring, seeing you up there looking down on us, watching us. That’s what gargoyles are meant to do, right? Watch and protect.”
Grady felt sure he’d heard that before. Of course, he couldn’t remember where. “Or is that just a myth or something?”
The gargoyle didn’t speak for several moments. “It is true. Gargoyles were called into being to act as sentinels and guard those within our protection. That was my purpose.” The gargoyle straightened his arm and pointed down. “I located food and drink.” He paused. “I believe humans require such things for sustenance.”
“We do.” Grady glanced down at the water, bread, and…the mix of salt, flour, ash, and spices they sprinkled when performing magic rituals.
Grady suppressed a laugh. He didn’t think it wise to laugh at the gargoyle who’d rescued him for mistaking that mixture for food. And it wasn’t a completely ridiculous assumption; after all, it did include mostly foodstuff.
“Thank you,” Grady said.
Once again, Grady realised how hot he was. Sweat clung to his skin. His cheeks and whole body flushed. And no wonder—six blankets lay on top of him, a small fire flickered and burned in the fireplace, and he still wore his coat. And boots.
The gargoyle must have carried him in, placed him on the settee, then covered him in blankets and brought him food. He looked at the gargoyle, touched to think of this intimidating, powerful being showing him such care.
Grady froze as panic flared in his chest.
“How did you get in? The charm should not have let you in.” Grady stared at the door, heart racing. What if it failed at other times? What if it let in someone who might harm his siblings?
His protection charms should have kept the gargoyle out. The spell on the apartment should have only let in those in the family or made an exception for those in great need and who meant no harm.
“Your charm worked fine,” the gargoyle said. “I told it I meant to help you. Then the door opened.”
Grady sat frozen for a moment, trying to think that through. He’d not written that into the charm. But he had designed the charm to adapt.
Though he was still feeling a little unsettled, his body relaxed. After all, if it had been one of his siblings who was injured and rescued by the gargoyle, he’d want the apartment to let them in.
“I can leave, if that is your wish,” the gargoyle said.
“No!” Grady shook his head. “No, stay. I just want to make sure my charms aren’t defective.” Grady tugged some of the blankets off himself. He paused, his head swimming with the movement.
Was I hit on the head? He didn’t think so. His ribs, shoulder, and stomach hurt the most. He’d fallen hard on his shoulder. And they’d kicked him in the ribs and stomach. He imagined he’d passed out from a combination of exhaustion, lack of food, and being overcome by the attack.
He reached down and took off his boots, dropping them onto the floor. Then he tugged off his coat. He struggled, the action taking far more effort than it should. The movement sent twinges of sharp pain where he’d been injured. But it felt a lot better once he’d removed his shoes and jacket.
Feeling less encumbered and sweltering, he reached for the water. He took several deep gulps, wetting his parched throat. Then he grabbed the bread. He noticed the bag of today’s earnings on the ground. A wave of relief washed over him as he realised his attackers had not stolen the money.
He glanced at the gargoyle. He’d not moved.
“What’s your name?” Grady asked. “I’ve seen you around a lot. But I don’t know your name.”
“Uzoth,” the gargoyle said.
“Well, thanks for rescuing me, Uzoth. I would have been completely fucked if you hadn’t arrived when you did. I’m Grady.” Grady took a bite of the soft buttery bread and chewed. His stomach gurgled as if now that food was imminent, it awoke with a raging vengeance.
He gobbled the bread down and drank more water, filling his cup from the jug. “Fuck, I needed that.”
“Humans are fragile beings. How do you fare now?” Uzoth asked.
Grady chuckled, lying back down. “I suppose we are fragile. Especially compared to you.” Grady looked at the gargoyle, his grey skin looking rough but also smooth, like polished stone.
He thought of what the gargoyle had said, of his countenance being terrifying. About him being monstrous. Grady could definitely see him as terrifying. But he didn’t find him unappealing to look at. In fact, he kind of liked looking at the gargoyle. “I’m feeling better now.”
The food and water settled in his belly. The overbearing heat of earlier had turned into a cosy warmth. He yawned as weariness tugged at his spine. “I am bloody tired though.” His eyelids felt heavy.
“Then rest,” Uzoth said.
Grady stared up at him, feeling surprisingly comfortable beneath his intense, unblinking gaze. “Maybe I will.”
Grady should tell Uzoth he could leave; after all, Grady was safe in his apartment now. Still, he didn’t say anything. Strangely, he liked Uzoth here, watching over and protecting Grady.
He let his eyes drift shut for just a second. He’d open them in a moment.
But when he opened his eyes, Uzoth was gone.
Grady glanced around the room but saw no sign of the gargoyle. The fire had almost died. Darkness still lay beyond the window.
And another loaf of bread sat beside him.
Smiling, Grady reached down and grabbed it.