Gargoyle Girl
By Autumn Dawn
4/5
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About this ebook
Sometimes a heart of stone is a good thing.
Cachet dreamed of a handsome gargoyle mate of her own, and Rook swept her away with his dark good looks. Since the Purge, gargoyles are rare, so when a young gargoyle miss arrives, claiming to be his true mate, Cachet smells something fishy. She’s not sharing her mate, and the little harpy has to go.
There’s going to be a catfight in the old house tonight, and only one gargoyle will get her man.
Short story in the world of Iron & Hemlock
Autumn Dawn
Autumn Dawn writes futuristic, urban fantasy and paranormal romance. With over twenty books and six series, she continues to thrill fans with her werewolves, dragons, elementals, gargoyles and trolls with a thing for Poe.She spent most of her life in Alaska, including several winters in a cabin in the woods, where she became intimately acquainted with outhouses, generators and woodstoves. Her years of snow machines, boating and mosquitos convinced her to move her family to Washington, where she basks in the “tropical” winters. You can find out more about her books at www.autumndawnbooks.com.
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Book preview
Gargoyle Girl - Autumn Dawn
Gargoyle Girl
by
Autumn Dawn
PUBLISHED BY:
Autumn Dawn on Smashwords
EDITED BY:
Judy Stone
Cover Artist:
Gabby Beaudreault
Gargoyle Girl
Copyright © 2014 by Autumn Dawn
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
***
Gargoyle Girl
Sometimes a heart of stone is a good thing.
Cachet dreamed of a handsome gargoyle mate of her own, and Rook swept her away with his dark good looks. Since the Purge, gargoyles are rare, so when a young gargoyle miss arrives, claiming to be his true mate, Cachet smells something fishy. She’s not sharing her mate, and little harpy has to go.
There’s going to be a catfight at the old house tonight, and only one gargoyle will get her man.
Chapter 1
"I’ve heard good things about this house." The old woman’s bones creaked as she maneuvered her navy taffeta skirts up the stone steps. Her face was weathered, but her black eyes were sharp and her white hair was in a neat bun. The old dame knew her business, knew the right impression to make. She’d survived the French Purge, saving one precious child from the butchers. They’d fled to England to make a new life, and she would do all in her power to see the girl found a new clan.
Cachet nodded and absently wished she could adjust her wings. Carefully folded against her back, they itched with tension. At least the humans couldn’t see through the glamour; she didn’t want the night to end in flames and pitchforks.
She was only forty-six, and the invitation to the party at Lord Griffin’s house had made her swoop with excitement. Not only was it the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her, but the house was rumored to be a hotbed of magical activity. What better place to find other gargoyles?
Lord and Lady Griffin welcomed their guests in the front foyer. A former playboy, Lord Griffin looked resplendent in his black tailcoat. His tawny hair appeared as if he’d raced to the party on a horse and leaped off moments ago. With his hooked nose and slightly pointed chin, he seemed predatory, and he studied Cachet with brown eyes that glinted gold.
Lady Griffin was elegant in a boat neck burgundy gown with a front skirt gathered and pleated to reveal the ruffled black underskirt. Her black hair was pinned up and decorated with an unusual fascinator. The silver griffin had golden topaz for eyes and was accented with several brown feathers traced with gold.
Her blue eyes lit with pleasure when she saw Cachet. My dear, welcome!
Her smile widened as her gaze swept Cachet’s form. "You will be very popular with the young men. She kissed Cachet’s cheeks in greeting and warmly welcomed Cachet’s grandmother.
Mrs. Black, I’ve so looked forward to meeting you in person. Our house welcomes you."
Mrs. Black smiled with pleasure. I’m excited to further our acquaintance, my lady.
She ushered Cachet into the party, surveyed the gathering crowd, and settled stiffly on a couch. Ah, I could sit here for a hundred years,
she said wearily. Under the glamour, her true skin had become very stiff, with an ashy cast that worsened over the last few months. She wouldn’t be able to rise without assistance.
Not yet, Grandma,
Cachet said softly, attempting to smile. Even with the glamour, her face was too strong, her eyes too big for conventional human beauty. Her ebony hair was fine, but her tan human skin was unfashionable. Her filed talons were disguised as French manicured nails, an unusual choice for an English miss, but glamour wasn’t perfect. It couldn’t erase all of her oddities, but it could make them appear like something a human could accept.
She was accustomed to being a wallflower at these gatherings, her family considered odd. She sighed and glanced longingly across the room at a dark window, wishing she could escape the overwhelming noise and odors of beeswax, perfume and perspiring humans. Grandma hadn’t flown in years, so Cachet did the hunting. She could be out now, snagging a fat rabbit, surrounded by the scent of pine and earth.
She straightened as a body blocked her view. She looked up and gasped. Another gargoyle!
Handsome, his wings hooked over his chest like a cloak. He had a strong, deep boned ebony face with large dark eyes and white hair that fell past his shoulders in a silky mane.
Suddenly shy, she went gargoyle still to avoid detection. Her heart raced, and she fought the frantic urge to see if her hair was smooth and her wings arranged to their best advantage. Did he like short girls? She was unbecomingly petite for a gargoyle…
That was when she noticed that he was gazing at her grandmother with surprise and concern. He stopped before the couch and bowed politely. May I help you, elder? Are you alone?
Mrs. Black scented the air with her old nose. She paused, arrested, and exhaled with great relief. Take care of her. Make her happy,
she murmured.
Startled, he finally noticed Cachet. His eyes widened in surprise, his gaze slowly sweeping her form.
She snapped out of her daze, trembling with excitement as her grandmother introduced her. This is my granddaughter, Cachet Black. You may call me Mrs. Black. And you are?
The gargoyle bowed. My name is Rook. My brothers are here somewhere; there are four of us at Griffin House.
Four! Four male gargoyles! Cachet wanted to dance with joy. She had four potential mates to choose from…if they liked her. She bit her lip. May I meet them?
she asked shyly.
Of course.
Rook glanced at Mrs. Black for permission and held out his hand. We might see them better from the dance floor.
Breathless with anticipation, Cachet took his hand. A current shocked her, momentarily welding their palms. His eyes flared, but he held on, his expression intent. As the sensation faded, he raised her hand to his lips and placed it on his arm. Shall we?
He was so tall. Dancing with him was like a dream. She didn’t have to worry about him accidently bumping her wings or treading on her large gargoyle feet. There are four of you? Are there others nearby? Neighbors, perhaps?
His smile was slow, a dazzle of sharp fangs. I’m afraid not. I suppose that means I’ll have to keep you company.
He didn’t seem the least bit sorry.
The dance ended with them conveniently close to the French doors leading to the terrace. Would you like to get some fresh air with me?
He smiled charmingly. The scents are thick in here.
Would I!
she exclaimed. I’ve been longing to escape since I got here.
She bit her lip, afraid he’d take that wrong. I meant to say, you’re right about the air.
He smiled and led her outside, but she balked when he made for the steps leading to the garden. At his inquiring look,