Goths and Gargoyles, page 1
Goths and Gargoyles
A Gargoyle Reverse Harem
Melody Rose
Contents
1. Luna
2. Luna
3. Luna
4. Luna
5. Luna
6. Luna
7. Asher
8. Luna
9. Luna
10. Draven
11. Luna
12. Luna
13. Luna
14. Poe
15. Luna
16. Luna
17. Asher
18. Poe
19. Luna
20. Luna
21. Asher
22. Luna
23. Luna
24. Luna
25. Luna
26. Draven
27. Luna
28. Luna
A Note from the Author
1
Luna
Every night when I walked home from work, I played this really fun game called Don’t Get Murdered. That sounds like an easy enough feat, but when you lived where I did, getting murdered was just an average Tuesday.
It wasn’t always this way. Haven was a decent enough city, but something in the past five years had turned it into a living nightmare. It was like we were only a few years away from being one of those crime-ridden cities in some dystopian cult movie. Look, I loved The Crow and Mad Max as much as any death-obsessed alt-chick, but I didn’t want to actually live it. Besides, real life didn’t come with a killer soundtrack.
All jokes aside, it was a totally average Tuesday. At least, it started out that way. I had just gotten off from my shift at the Velvet Spider, and my ears were still ringing from the shitty death metal band that had ravaged my eardrums for the past two hours. Honestly, besides the threat of imminent death, my walks home from work were always my favorite. I savored the quiet, even if it was a quiet punctuated by the distant sounds of breaking glass, car horns, and gunshots.
That was just the ambiance of my neighborhood, though. I hardly noticed it anymore. I lived in a part of Haven that had been cheerfully dubbed Necropolis. Get it? It means city of the dead in fancy talk. Our charming nickname was mostly due to our crime rate, which boasted the highest in an already fucked city. I know, I know, it’s a big achievement. We’re very proud.
Anyway, my walk home was shaping up to be pretty standard. The Velvet Spider was on the edge of Necropolis, and from there, I only had maybe two blocks to go. Still, a lot could happen in two blocks. I kept my headphones in so that nobody would bother talking to me, but I didn’t actually turn any music on. I didn’t want to be caught unawares.
I kept my head down and plowed forward on the walk home, intently focused on the sound of my scuffed Doc Martens boots against the sidewalk. I kicked a couple of pieces of litter and a glass bottle to break up their predictable rhythm. A mangy stray cat picked its way beside me for several yards, but that was blessedly the only living creature that bothered me on my way home.
My apartment building was an ugly four-story building that squatted like a toad on the corner. It was built from brick, glass, and bad choices, but I still felt a little surge of relief every time I saw it. Only two locks stood between me and my bed: the one for the front vestibule and the one for my front door.
Unfortunately, the keys for those two locks were on my keyring, which sat buried at the bottom of my perpetually messy bag. For some reason, I had been so intent on my shoes and the little cat that I hadn’t bothered to dig them out when I normally would have. Now, I’d have to waste precious seconds of safety digging around my cross-body bag like a dumbass.
Hundreds of other nights, I’d been perfectly capable of getting in my door safely, but it only takes one time for them to get you. I had barely dug in my bag for ten seconds before a strong forearm wrapped around the front of my throat and began to squeeze. I could feel the cold point of a knife digging near my rib cage. I could have kicked myself for wearing a damn crop top. Between that and my purse full of singles from bartending, I may as well have held up a neon sign that said “Victim.” Not saying that either of those reasons gave the stranger the right to attack me, but the criminals in Haven didn’t need any more goading.
Hot, sour breath washed over me, and I could smell the reek of cheap liquor. “Give me everything in the purse, and if it’s not enough, we’ll find another way for you to pay me.”
I struggled against his arm, regardless of how much it cut off my breath, and dug the knife further into my side. I felt a burning sensation, followed by the warm trickle of blood. I didn’t think it was serious, but I’d obviously been cut. I had an unreasonable flash of panic that the blood would stain one of my precious few outfits, but then I remembered I only wear black. As a last-ditch effort, I brought one of my sturdy combat boots down as hard as I could on his nearby toe.
My boot struck true. The stranger immediately swore an impressive string of fucks and released me out of shock. Unfortunately, when I said “released me,” what I really meant was “threw me violently to the sidewalk below, where I promptly smashed my melon against concrete.” It wasn’t great, but the choice between stab wound or concussion wasn’t an easy one. I would have preferred neither.
All I could do was wince as the edges of my vision blurred. I felt too stunned to even cradle my head, which throbbed in time with a fun new ringing in my ears. The fuzzy man-shape of the stranger loomed over me, and I felt the strap of my trusty messenger bag tear as he ripped it roughly over my head. I heard him rifle through its contents angrily, then chuck it on the ground. Judging from his pissy attitude, the idiot hadn’t seen the wad of tips I’d shoved into one of the more discreet zippered pockets. His shadow loomed over me once more, and I instinctively tried to curl into a ball to protect my abdomen. Even through my disorienting haze of pain, I knew this guy was going to punish me for my little toe-stomp, nevermind the fact that he’d found nothing but old cough drops and tubes of lipstick in my bag. I steeled myself for a swift kick in the ribs and screwed my eyes shut tight.
The expected beat-down never came, and I winked one eye open. My vision blurred, and it pulsed along with the beat of my probable concussion, so it took me a second to piece together what I was seeing.
My attacker was held up against the building’s brick wall by his neck. I took a bit of pleasure in seeing his feet dangle and kick like a helpless little marionette. I followed the vise grip on his neck down a muscular arm to an equally cut torso. My savior’s features were difficult to make out in the apartment building’s single-bulb entry light. What wasn’t hard to discern were the massive, leathery bat wings that extended out of his powerful shoulders.
Yup, bat wings.
See, this is when I knew I absolutely had a concussion and would totally have to miss work for a few days, which I couldn’t fucking afford. It says a lot about the state of the world if my first worry with a brain injury was a wad of singles from the Velvet Spider. Excuse me. I meant my first worry with a brain injury and some kind of sexy monster dude hallucination. Honestly, the hallucination should have worried me more than my rent, but it didn’t. Even in a large amount of pain, I could get used to a half-naked fantasy man following me around all the time.
My eyelids felt like they weighed thirty pounds each, and as much as I wanted to watch my attacker/would-be rapist get his comeuppance, my brain had other plans. The black that had floated on the edges of my vision finally claimed my entire body, and I passed out right there on a dirty sidewalk, mere feet from my home.
2
Luna
The first thing I realized when I regained consciousness was that I was freezing. The second thing was, once again, the sexy muscular guy with bat wings. Yup, he still had the wings. Luckily, my head was feeling better, which probably meant I wasn’t suffering from a concussion. Unluckily, that meant I was probably seeing this guy because I had finally gone crazy. To be fair, I had been expecting to snap for a while. No better time than on a Tuesday!
He was leaning against a mid-hip height stone wall with beautiful brickwork and small archways. Judging by the cold wind that nipped at me and the night sky above, we were on a rooftop of some sort. I could see a bell tower to my left, and it clicked in my brain that we were on top of a church of some kind. There was a gorgeous, old cathedral-like Catholic church just outside of Necropolis, and I had a feeling this was it. It had been abandoned since the eighties, so I guess it was the perfect creepy hideout for… sexy bat dudes.
I looked around quickly and sucked in a breath at the slight pain in my head. I didn’t see or feel any kind of tie or bind, so it didn’t seem like he was trying to hold me against my will. Plus, he’d presumably done a number on the creep back at the apartment, so I had to assume he wasn’t actively trying to harm me. Unless Haven’s criminal-to-victim ratio was so bad that criminals had to beat the shit out of other criminals just for a little assault and battery.
He took a few hesitant steps toward me, and I shrunk back further into my little corner of the rooftop. The stone was so cold it felt wet, and I could feel the chill seeping through my clothing. I shivered involuntarily and hugged myself.
The strange man politely kept himself several yards away, but he did hold his hands up in a gesture of peace. The silver moonlight shone through the leathery part of his wings, and I could see the fine pathways of veins as they cut across the skin. It was somehow both beautiful and a little sickening. I’d been able to accept a lot of strange and unfortunate things living in Haven during my twenty-three years, bu
I shivered again and heard him sigh. Instead of monstrous, the sound of his sigh was deep but human-like. When he spoke, it came out in a rich, lustrous baritone. “You’re cold. I-I apologize. It’s not something I take much notice of.”
I chuckled ruefully and sat up a little, cupping my head. “Yeah, you’re, uh, you’re shirtless, and it’s like… fifty degrees out on a roof in the middle of the night.”
He stood up a little straighter, and his wings tucked further into his back. “Are you alright, miss? You hit your head very hard, and well, to be honest, you’re not exactly reacting how I would expect.”
I pursed my lips and hugged myself a little tighter. “Oh yeah, the uh-” I motioned to his wings. “I’m banking on me being totally fucked from a head wound or something.”
He gestured to his back. “I-I can hide them if you’d like?”
I nodded shakily, and he stood up even straighter. The light of the moon and the aura of the city’s lit landscape shone on his skin as he approached me a few more steps, and I noticed how his skin glowed almost luminously with a dusty grayish color. He wasn’t exactly blue, or gray, or flesh-colored, but a mixture of the three that was simultaneously incredibly human and incredibly strange. His face was square-jawed and handsome, and he had a lusciously full bottom lip and elegant cheekbones. He had chin-length black hair that matched his arched eyebrows. He looked like a tortured Italian Renaissance hero, and my little goth girl heart fluttered.
He closed his eyes for a moment and made his worried expression serene. The powerful muscles on his shoulders and arms rolled back, almost like a stretch, and the wings subtly disappeared into the large expanse of his back. From my viewpoint, I couldn’t see where they’d gone. As soon as his wings disappeared, his skin lost its supernatural tint and became a pale olive tone. He looked like a totally normal human. Well, a totally normal human who worked out a ton and had a day job as a model.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head. I didn’t really know how I was expected to react to any of this. All I knew was that I needed thirty Advil and roughly forty sips of wine. I reached for my bag out of habit to see if I had any headache meds. With a groan, I remembered that it had been tossed on the sidewalk outside of my apartment building. There was no way it would be there when I got back. Frustrated, I exhaled heavily, then clumsily tried to stand. The rooftop spun dangerously underneath me, and the small cut in my side stretched and burned. I plopped back down before I even made it halfway.
The man rushed over, and I recoiled again. I felt immediately terrible at the look of hurt that flashed across his dark, long-lashed eyes.
I stuttered and tried to relax. “I-I’m sorry. You’ve obviously helped me, but I’m sort of still wondering if all of this is real or if I’m seriously injured. Maybe I’m dead.” I give him a stern look. “Am I dead?”
He chuckled sadly, and I noticed his long, pointed canines. That probably should have terrified me, but once again, my little goth girl heart just about shit itself. To be honest, my little goth girl vagina promptly gave a little hum too. Look, I grew up on vampire romance novels and sad music, so this kind of shit was my dream.
He ran a hand through his gorgeous hair and looked at me softly. “No, you aren’t dead. I actually tried to make sure that didn’t happen, so let me assure you that I mean you no harm.”
I nodded. “Right, that makes sense. I suppose you could have totally murdered me when I was passed out. Unless you’re one of those guys who gets off on screams.” I tried not to think too hard about this guy getting off and put on my best bitchy face. “You don’t like… want something from me, do you?”
He held up his hands and shook his head. His hands looked big and strong, but his fingers were long and elegant. One of them gestured beside me. “May I sit?”
I swallowed hard and chewed on my lip. The surrounding air simmered with tension, and I could literally feel myself in a defining moment. I knew I could refuse his offer, demand to go home, and end this evening right now. I had a feeling this guy would totally let me leave and never speak to me again. He had a tortured, worried look about him that clued me in on the fact that he really was trying to save me and didn’t want to inconvenience or scare me in any way. On the other hand, deep down in my soul, I knew if he sat beside me, it would forever change something in my life.
So, I did what any equally tortured, sexually intrigued woman with a penchant for bad decisions would do. I nodded and let him plunk his chiseled ass down beside me.
He tucked his knees close to himself and wrapped his arms around them. It was like he wanted to tuck himself into the most compact position ever, and I realized it was for my comfort. He was trying to make himself appear small and unthreatening, which was no easy feat with a body like his. My heart warmed at the gesture, and I decided to keep an open mind. Whatever I had seen, it was clear this… being, it felt too mean to call him a creature, was empathetic and kind.
I suppressed a shiver and pulled my own knees up close. “So, let me just say thanks for saving me. I didn’t really feel like being sexually assaulted and robbed on a weeknight.” I blushed and stammered. “Er, any night, actually.”
He smiled to one side, and his full bottom lip stretched seductively. I focused on not swooning and plowed on. “But, uh, let’s address the obvious here. You’ve got wings. Can we unpack that?”
He sucked on his teeth and stared down at his knees. “My name is Draven.”
I snorted. “No way. Like the guy from The Crow?”
He snapped his head up and rolled his eyes. “No, not like the guy from The Crow. Let me make one thing straight. I had that name first.”
I gave him a wry look and loosened my braided pigtails. The pressure in my head loosened up immediately, and I groaned with relief. I rubbed my fingers over my tight scalp and looked at him pointedly to continue.
He sighed. “My name is Draven, and I belong to an ancient order sworn to protect the prominent cities in this new world.” He looked at me with uncertainty for a moment. “America, I mean.”
I scowled. “I know what ‘the new world’ means.”
He had the good manners to look a little embarrassed, then continued. “Myself, and others like me, were created to be ancient guardians, called forth and carved by master pagan craftsmen in France during the Dark Ages.”
I snorted and tried to hold back my laughter. Draven gave me a dark look. “Do you think that’s funny?”
I struggled to make my face serious and hid my mouth with my hand. “N-No, it’s just you know… you sound like a craft beer commercial or something.” I made my voice snooty. “Carved by master pagan craftsmen in France.”
He was too pale to actually turn red with anger, but the color of his gorgeous skin darkened a little. “I am a respected creature, called forth from an ancient power to protect the city during its most dire times of need.”
I tossed my hair and held my hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, chill. I’m sorry.”
Draven bit his plump lip and scowled. “You’re very weird for a human. I’m trying to tell you something mystical and secret, and so far, you’ve poked fun at me twice.”
I tried to sneak a peek at his back. “You’re very weird for a human too, Draven. Firstly, because your name is Draven.”
He shook his hair out of his eyes. “And what’s your name?”
I smirked. “Mine’s equally brooding and spooky, don’t worry. I’m Luna.”
His face softened, and he looked up at the moon. He really should have been brooding over a moor on a stormy night with an expression like that. God, what a babe.
