The Accidental Gargoyle : An Accidental Quickie, page 6
Ingrid rolled her eyes at him. “Whatever. Let’s just call Horton and see how Jerry is.”
He went to reach for his pocket, but a realization changed his expression. “My phone. I don’t know where my phone is!”
Nina brushed her hands together. “First, let’s get Jerry, then we’ll go see if we can find your fucking phone. Kenny? You know how to get back to this Clifton House?”
“Of course I do. It’s my duty,” he said, standing up, his spine rigid.
Nina cracked her knuckles. “Then let’s hit it.”
“I can Uber,” Griff said, and Ingrid could tell it was because he didn’t want to get in a car with them. He was afraid they’d harm him.
“You could, but then you wouldn’t have us for protection in case some shit goes down. Not to mention, you were just taken out by a girl, Pussy Pants. So it feels like a real fucking risk to go it alone. Plus, you don’t have a phone to call an Uber, do you, Gargoyle?” Nina taunted.
“Wanda put a hand on Griff’s arm. ”Griff, we’re not going to hurt you. We just want to help, and I’ll explain all about how we can do that on the way to get Jerry.”
Still, he looked reluctant. “Why does Jerry have to come here to…to her house?”
Marty giggled, making a tikling sound. “You mean Castle Doom where the scary vampire of all time lives? Because we have to figure out how to best help you adjust, and it’s easier if we’re all together in one place. It’s how we do it with all our clients. Also, Ingrid wasn’t lying when she said trouble always seems to find an accidental turning. That she’s, as Kenny said, rare, makes me positive we’re in for some kind of trouble.”
He blinked those pretty eyes. “Clients? Trouble?”
Ingrid was really exhausted, her ears felt like two big weights on her head, and her bones ached. She wasn’t up for resistance tonight. “Get in the damn car, Griff. Whether you like it or not, we’re all in this together. Move your hot cross buns and shut up, because I’m tired and I don’t have an ounce of fucks to give about how you feel.”
The women all looked at her as though she had three heads.
And who knew? Maybe she did. But she wasn’t going to play around anymore. She wasn’t normally excitable or irritable, but tonight hadn’t turned out quite the way she’d hoped. There’d been no Chinese food from Door Dash and no warm fire with a book and Blanche Deveraux snuggled next to her. But the look on her face must’ve made an impression.
Griff pivoted quite suddenly and stomped off out the door, with Kenny and the women following behind.
Nina put her arm around her and squeezed her tight. “Jesus and a bag of Doritos, what was all that shite about? Who the fuck are you?”
“Apparently, I’m a gargoyle.”
“A damn feisty one. I’m proud of ya, kiddo. You’ve been fucking paying attention.”
Ingrid couldn’t help but grin as she leaned into her friend.
Knowing these women, she’d definitely learned a thing or two.
Nina let out a sharp whistle. “Nice joint you got here, buddy. It’s really white and clean.”
And it was nice. Not at all what Ingrid expected when it came to Griff. She got a more mid-century modern vibe from him than she did industrial farmhouse.
The outside was a white brick with stained brown shutters, an A-frame with a cute front porch and round bushes covered in snow. He even had some Christmas lights draped over them.
He didn’t have a lot of color happening in his decor, mostly it was white…countertops, trim. His furniture was beige, but somehow the place came across as really warm and inviting.
“I’m color blind,” he offered with little interest as he looked around for Jerry. “It’s just easier to keep everything white and beige.”
On the way over, Wanda had explained OOPS and some of their adventures in great detail. She’d shown him pictures as more proof, and she’d done more reassuring that they only wanted to help.
As Ingrid looked around the beautiful space, he whistled for Jerry, who bounded out of his bedroom, her big body swaying as she went, her hind legs slightly stiff.
“There’s my girl,” he cooed at her, wrapping his arms around her neck and kissing the top of her big graying head. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long, sweetheart.”
There was food and water in her bowls, so Horton must have been stopping by to feed her.
“Would you look at you, little lady. You’re the size of a fucking horse,” Nina noted as she moved closer to Jerry, who, on all fours, reached her waist.
But Griff stood between them, taking a protective stance, looking ridiculous in a ripped sweatshirt and bare feet. “I wouldn’t. She’s very shy and skittish with new people.”
“Move the fuck out of my way, Stonehenge.” With that, she shoved Griff to the right of her and knelt in front of Jerry, who took one look at Nina and rather than back away or show any hesitancy at all, buried her face in her neck. Nina stroked her spine and whispered, “Look who’s such a sweet face. Is it you? Are you the sweet face? I think it’s you. Yes, ma’am, it is.” She dropped kisses on Jerry’s pointed ears and rubbed her muzzle.
“She never does that with strangers…” Griff muttered, his expression one of confusion.
Wanda patted Griff on the back with a smile. “All animals do that with Nina. It’s the one redeeming quality our mistress of darkness has. Well, that and the elderly and children. They all love her, too. Which should tell you, we mean no harm. She means no harm.”
Nina rose and gave Wanda the bird. “I mean harm, they just fucking won’t let me harm anyone. Go pack a bag and hurry the fuck up. We have shit to figure out.”
Griff stood in the middle of his cozy white living room with the big puffy chairs and looked at them all. “I can’t just up and leave my life. I have clients and responsibilities and employees who need to eat.”
Nina pulled her hoodie off and twisted her long hair into a knot at the back of her head—meaning, she meant business. “Can you do that while during the day, you look like something that belongs at a garage sale at Michelangelo’s condo?”
He closed his eyes and sighed. “Shit. You’re right.” That uncertain, almost hopeless tone took over.
But Ingrid knew the part of this scenario well. Touching his arm—a big mistake if you asked her, because it was quite an arm and it made her belly tingle—she said, “Listen, call Horton and tell him you had to go out of town on an emergency and you’ll be in touch. Ask him to run things, but keep it as vague as possible.”
He looked at her in disbelief, his square jaw clenching. “But won’t he wonder where I’ve been for three damn days?”
“Tell him you had things to handle—personal things,” Marty suggested, running her hand against the smooth white countertop of Griff’s kitchen island.
“I’m kind of a control freak. I know everything that goes on in my company. Horton’ll never believe I’ve been out of contact for three days doing personal things.”
“Will he believe you’re a gargoyle instead?” Wanda asked, her serene eyes, calm and soothing, gazing at him.
Griff scrubbed his hand over his stubbled jaw. “Okay, point taken.”
“Didn’t you say you had a recent breakup?” Ingrid asked, her mind churning.
Griff nodded, but he didn’t look upset. Rather, he looked angry about it. “An ugly one. A very ugly one.”
“Perfect!” Ingrid declared. “So you’re heartbroken and grieving and making it all better with a hot blonde.”
“Um, I’m not sure that’s believable. Celia wasn’t exactly the love of my life. I don’t think she’s going to believe I’m wandering around bingeing ice cream and wearing her old shirts, or that Horton will fall for that either.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t be sad it’s over,” Ingrid reminded him. “Ending a relationship because it isn’t working doesn’t mean it’s not sad.”
Boy, did she ever know that.
Yet, Griff wasn’t convinced. “He’ll know from the sound of my voice. He knows she wasn’t the love of my life. I mean, we didn’t talk about the personal side of the relationship, but I’m sure he heard an argument or two from my office…and gentle wasn’t exactly what I’d call those screaming matches. Also, I’m a crappy liar. He’ll know in an instant.”
Marty paced for a moment before she said, “Then don’t talk to him at all. Text him. Tell him you lost your phone and you’ve had a family emergency. Use Wanda’s phone and tell him it’s your cousin’s.”
“I don’t have any cousins. I have no family. My parents are gone, no siblings, no aunts or uncles, and Horton knows all of that.”
“Then tell him while you were getting over your ugly breakup, you found the woman of your dreams in the process of drowning your sorrows and you’re indisposed.”
“But I just broke up with Celia. Isn’t it a little soon to be involved with someone?”
So the man had morals and rules and he wasn’t inclined to impulsivity? Okay, maybe he wasn’t that much of a dick.
Wanda pulled out her phone from the prim purse she had at the crook of her arm. “You’re drowning your sorrows in a rebound, Griff. A hot one. Marty, c’mere. Ruffle up your hair and gimme those glossy fish lips.”
Marty stood by Griff and gave him her best smoldering look. “Now remember, I’m a married woman. Don’t get too attached to me,” she teased.
Ingrid laughed…before she remembered Griff’s house. Had Celia seen his house? “Has Celia been here?”
Griff nodded. “Lots of times.”
Why did that make her want to scream? Why should she care if Celia had been here once or a million times?
Focusing, she instructed, “Okay, so we need a tight shot, Wanda. Try to keep all identifying background stuff out of the pics.”
“Oh! And take off your shirt,” Marty said. “You’re a mess.”
“Can’t I just go get another one?” he asked, looking desperately embarrassed.
“Do you want this to look convincing or not?” Marty asked, ruffling her hair before shaking it out to give it that tousled, “just slammed each other up one side of the bed and back down the other” look. “Now off with the shirt.” She waved a hand at him as she dug in her purse for some lip gloss.
Ingrid wanted to turn away, but she didn’t think she could force herself to miss the chance to see Griff’s amazing chest again.
As he pulled off the sweatshirt, all the women—even unflappable, always-unimpressed Nina—paused with a raised eyebrow.
And what an amazingly beautiful chest it was. Wide at the shoulders, lean at the waist, a bit of hair that led to a trail of dark hair at the waistband of his borrowed golf shorts.
If you had one of those things you play an xylophone with, you could probably make music on his abs—and those sharp angles at his hips?
Holy sweet potato pie.
If her stomach was tingling before, now her whole body was tingling.
“Wine! Do you have wine and wine glasses?” Ingrid asked.
“I do.”
“Show me,” Ingrid demanded.
Griff led her to his shiny fridge and pulled out a half-empty bottle of red wine and pointed at a cabinet, his movements slow and unsure.
Ingrid grabbed the wine and began to pour it, shooing him toward Marty, trying not to look past his gorgeous face at that fabulous chest. “Go stand near Marty and let’s do this.”
He did as he was told and Marty wrapped an arm around Griff’s neck. pulling him close to her, she tilted her head and did a pretty pout, but as Wanda took pictures, it was obvious, Griff wasn’t feeling it. He was stiff as a board.
Wanda sighed. “Griff, I’m really trying here. I wish you would, too. Loosen up. Especially if you knew what Marty’s husband would do to you if he could see her pasted against you like a stamp on a letter. Work the camera, my friend.”
Marty tilted his chin upward and looked into his eyes, giving him a coy, kitten-ish look.
Ingrid bust out laughing as his arms remained at his sides.
“I feel very uncomfortable right now,” he said stiffly.
“Well, get un-uncomfortable, The Rock. You have shit to do and a secret you have to fucking keep. Now act like you like a bitch and get on with it. Darnell just texted and said Khristos and Quinn are at the house. Hurry it up, Princess.”
Griff suddenly sprang into action, pressing his cheek to Marty’s and even dipping her as she wrapped her leg around his waist.
“Perfect!” Wanda cheered. Then she handed the phone to Griff. “Now text Horton and say exactly what we told you to say. Ask him to hold down the fort for you and cancel any appointments you have because you lost your phone.”
“He’s never gonna fall for this. He knows me, too well.”
Marty rolled her blue eyes. “It beats the hell out of teling him ou’re a gargoyle, doesn’t it?”
Griff did as he was told and handed the phone back to Wanda. It pinged immediately with a message from Horton.
Ingrid tried not to read if from behind his naked, yummy shoulder, but she couldn’t help it.
How kind of you to at least let me know you’re alive. I was counting down the hours until I could file a missing person’s report, because they said I had to wait forty-eight hours with the excuse that “sometimes adults do crazy things.” Guess they nailed you, didn’t they, Boss Man?”
I know this isn’t like me, Horton, but I just needed a break and a little fun.
She’s a pretty hot break. Look, you’re a workaholic, so we’re doing a don’t ask, don’t tell rule here. You deserve the R&R. We don’t have anything super pressing except the condos in Squidley Square, and that doesn’t start until well after the new year. So go do dirty things and get it out of your system. Just stay in touch with me and I’ll take care of everything else. Do you want me to come get Jerry?
I called the dog-sitter. She’s got him.
Then I’ll see ya when I see ya. Be safe and wrap your sausage.
His face turned red, but Griff blew out a sigh of relief, making Ingrid fight a giggle. Thanks, Horton.
Handing the phone back to Wanda, he said, “I think we’re good now.”
Nina slapped him on the back. “Good to know, because we have a phone to find and some mythology experts waiting for us back at my house.”
“Oh, thank God we have help,” Marty sighed, smoothing her hair back in place.
Nina grimaced. “Yeah. We have help all right, but what they have to say? It ain’t good.”
Shit, shit, shit.
Chapter 8
Quinn, beautiful with chestnut-brown hair in a long dovetail braid over her shoulder, dressed in a billowy white shirt and red, pencil-slim skirt, and Khristos, dark and the complete opposite of Quinn’s softer features, greeted them when they got to Nina’s castle.
Castle. (Would he ever get used to saying that?)
Would he ever get used to the idea that he was in the same room as the Goddess of love, her husband and a demon?
Somehow, he’d expected to find a woman in a diaper with a bow and arrow, akin to Cupid or something, and a guy with horns and a long forked tail.
Instead, a beautiful woman and her equally good-looking husband were here, looking like a normal couple who’d won the attractive lottery, and an enormous man with high-top sneakers and a football jersey who resembled a squishy teddy bear.
Introductions were made, explanations were given, and then came the news Quinn and Khristos had brought with them.
Grabbing her friend’s hand, Quinn pulled Ingrid to the large wood dining table that could easily seat twenty people. “First, I need you to know I’m here for you, just like you were for me when I became Aphrodite. Always.”
Ingrid gave her friend a hard hug. “I know. I also know how this goes. So whatever it is, just let me have it.”
“Griff,” Khristos said, his voice grave. “You might want to sit, too.”
He gulped, but he sat down next to Ingrid, who, even in all the chaos, he noted smelled like peppermint and vanilla, making his nose twitch.
“Okay, so we talked to Esther-Lou—that’s the first Aphrodite’s real name,” she told Griff. “And Kenny is right. A female gargoyle is very, very rare, and more so, exceptionally valuable.”
Ingrid’s face went chalk white as she gulped, and without thinking, Griff reached for her hand and held it tight.
“I don’t understand what makes me so valuable. Is it because I can have baby gargoyles? I’ll give them all the baby gargoyles they want. I mean, as long as the guy is cute and it means I don’t end up dead. I know that sounds like I’m a little loose, but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do to survive.”
Quinn pushed Ingrid’s soft brown hair from her face. “No, honey. It’s because in gargoyle form, your heart…you know, that big thing you have in your chest that everyone loves so much? It will eventually turn into a jewel. A rare, priceless ruby called a Sunrise Ruby. There are none in the world right now, and you’ll be growing the one and only in your chest in no time flat. That’s part of the reason your turn is taking so long.”
Griff’s head spun, and his heart—the one that apparently wasn’t a priceless ruby—pounded in fear for Ingrid. “So what you’re saying is, someone will want to kill Ingrid for her heart?”
Khristos nodded, his dark head, his square jaw tight. “This has been going on forever. Female gargoyles have been captured and their hearts harvested for centuries—which is why they’ve died out.”
“So did the female gargoyles kind of go on a sex strike? No nookie for the cookie in order to prevent being harvested?” Ingrid joked, even though Griff could tell she was barely hanging on.
Khristos drove his hands inside his pockets. “In essence, yes.”
“But I happened by accident, so…”
All the women gathered around her for support.
“Yes,” Quinn said. “You’re the only female gargoyle we know of and…”
Ingrid tucked her shoulder-length hair behind her ears. “People are going to be hunting me like Dog the Bounty Hunter hunts people who’ve skipped bail.”
