CHAPTER#67

Mike gasped for air, laying his head against her belly. Her wing curled around him protectively, shielding his eyes from the sun above. He looked at his hand, clenching it painfully. He felt like he had clung to a rope too long, his knuckles protesting when he flexed them repeatedly. The sudden stiffness in his joints dissipated, but his fatigue did not. He ran a hand through his hair, marveling at the amount of sweat.

Relaxing, he let Abella run her hand across his chest. He grabbed her other hand, giving it a firm squeeze. Several minutes went by, the burning in his lungs suddenly fading. He wondered if part of his sudden exhaustion was related to the torrent of magic he had unleashed. Was his magic dangerous? It had never occurred to him during his self exploration that maybe it was something he shouldn't be experimenting with.

Then again, nothing bad had happened so far.

"Sometimes I wish I was soft like you." Her voice broke the silence as she caressed his face, letting her fingers trail down along to his collarbone. "Soft and supple. Be able to ride in an elevator, or go on a carousel. To wear pretty dresses and makeup, to try on high heels or get hit on by strangers. By nature, my skin is strong, but I'm not sure that my heart is ready for the centuries of loneliness ahead."

"Why would you be alone?"

She smiled, but he could see the sadness in her eyes. "There have been many Caretakers, but none of them have taken an interest in me quite like you have. One day, you will die as all humans do. And when you do, you will leave a hole that likely won't be filled."

"Oh." He had hardly ever dwelled on what life would be like for the others after he was gone. Like most people, contemplating how the world would go on after his own death wasn't high on his list of priorities. What would happen to the house without an heir? For that matter, how often did a resident of the house pass away? Some of them were immortal, but the others did have limited lifespans.

He thought once more of Emily. Was that why she had pursued godhood? To become immortal and care for the others? Was that why she didn't designate an heir, because she foolishly assumed that she would somehow live forever?

He rubbed his hand along the smooth stone of Abella's forehead. "I can't promise I'll be around forever," he told her. "But I will do my best to be around for as long as possible and to make sure my successor treats you well."

She chuckled. "Well, that remains to be seen. So far, though, you've already taken pretty good care of me." She opened her legs and teased at her opening, withdrawing a huge glob of sperm. "I used to fantasize that I would marry a human and we would have little half-breed babies. Cute little babies with small wings and huge smiles. My husband would come home from work and we would have a nice meal and read them stories before bed. Then he and I would cuddle in front of the fire and look forward to the days ahead."

"Can... can humans and gargoyles..." a large lump had formed in his throat.

"Oh, absolutely not!" She laughed and punched him playfully in the bicep. His whole arm went numb. "Even if we could procreate, you wouldn't survive the process."

"I don't understand. I'm fairly certain we've gone through the process."

"Only part of it. A gargoyle's anatomy is different. We have a mating ritual that involves flying high into the sky and then flying down toward the earth while we copulate. The act of diving causes a special stone in our body to shift and allow sperm into the womb, and then a gargoyle will fertilize and lay an egg."

"You lay eggs?"

She shrugged. "I could, but it takes a lot of energy. By nature, gargoyles only lay eggs when they can fertilize one."

"That sounds convenient."

She nodded. "It's become a bit harder since humans invented radar and air travel. When I say that we have to fly high, it's as high as our wings can carry us, far higher than any creature can go. The main reason we breathe is to take in energy, so technically we could just hang out up there if we didn't get tired. Have you ever seen a shooting star?"

"A few, when I was a kid."

She smiled. "Well, it's possible you wished on a pair of gargoyles. Our bodies can withstand the heat, that's for certain."

"You shouldn't be flying high enough to light up on re-entry though."

A weird look crossed her face. "What? Oh, no, the fire part. That's something else entirely."

MIke wanted to ask, but Abella stood up, grabbing another brick.

"Bet you a kiss I can hit his replacement from here." She winked and chucked the brick. He sat up just quick enough to see a jogger collapse into a pile of sand. Clearly, Sebastien had thought the coast was clear and gotten closer.

"Guess I owe you a kiss. I wonder how long it takes him to make one of those?"

Abella laughed. "Longer than it takes to throw a brick." She helped him stand up. "C'mon, you need to get ready. I'm dying to know what you find in that wardrobe, and you can give me that kiss after you come back."

He smiled. "You can count on it."

-

"Okay, I guess I'm ready." He looked in the mirror, then lifted up his shirt. The naga-skin tunic clung to him like spandex, the patterns shifting ever so slightly. He let go of the fabric and checked the small leather pouch on his right hip. Tink had made it for him, and he opened it up to reveal the vials that Zel had given him several days ago. The pouch was far safer than his pocket for keeping such valuable items, and he snapped it shut.