The Gargoyle's Holiday Cheer, page 1
part #18 of A Paranormal's Love Series
Into the Paranormal World: A little holiday magic can make the world a brighter place.
Grigoris has spent over six hundred years alone. As a gargoyle who lives away from most of society this isn’t surprising. Sure, he’s had his clutch-mates and his work, but he’s never truly had someone to share it with. When Aaden Hauser, a young black human sneaks into his garage, attempting to locate a friend and warn him of trouble, Grigoris instantly realizes the skittish male is his mate. While they enjoy a brief interlude, his human doesn’t stick around. Grigoris uses a mutual friend to track Aaden down and to learn more about him. In the process, he discovers something disturbing about the young male’s family. Grigoris realizes, although he’s the last person to rouse holiday cheer, his young mate needs it now more than ever. Can Grigoris figure out how to not only woo his wary human, but lift his spirits enough to accept that change can bring unexpected joy?
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The Gargoyle’s Holiday Cheer
Copyright © 2016 Charlie Richards
ISBN: 978-1-4874-0945-6
Cover art by Carmen Waters
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
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Devine Destinies, an imprint of eXtasy Books Inc
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The Gargoyle’s Holiday Cheer
A Paranormal’s Love: Book Eighteen
By
Charlie Richards
Dedication
Christmas is doing a little something extra for someone.
~Charles M Schulz
Chapter One
Aaden Hauser settled the bar back into the cradle, finishing his last rep. Grunting, he eased to a sitting position on the bench press’s padded seat, his legs falling to either side to straddle the bench. Sighing, he lifted the hem of his tank top and rubbed the fabric over his face, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
“Nice, man,” Aziel Boltson rumbled as he clapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Great job.” He grinned broadly at him, his dark eyes twinkling. “You upped your weight by ten pounds, five on each side, and still completed all your reps.”
Groaning, Aaden lifted his arms and rotated his shoulders. “I can feel it,” he muttered. Resting his forearms on his thighs, Aaden popped his neck. “What the hell was I thinking?”
Aziel chuckled, the low sound seeming to rumble out of his huge chest as he continued to grin down at him. “You ready to spot me, then?” As he spoke, he began adding more weight to the bar.
Aaden nodded and rose to his feet. “Yeah, Z.” He rubbed his palms on his shorts, removing some of the sweat. “Let’s do this.”
Grinning widely, showing off his even white teeth, Aziel settled on the bench and got into position. Aaden watched as his huge black friend flexed his massive shoulders, then lifted his hands to the bar. Placing his own hand in position to spot him, he narrowed his gaze as Aziel’s expression turned serious, and he got to work.
It didn’t take long for sweat to pop out on Aziel’s dark-chocolate skin. His arms gleamed and a bead of moisture formed on his temple. It took every bit of concentration Aaden had not to find his focus waning from his job of spotter to focus on the man’s broad, muscular form.
Aaden knew the second he did that, he’d end up sporting a boner. Talk about a tough thing to explain. He knew Aziel wouldn’t say anything and probably wouldn’t care. After all, their friend Andre Capston had recently come out to them and had started dating a cute-looking twinky-type of guy.
Still, there were others on the team that would be happy to give him shit. He knew any joking words would be spread around and the news would somehow make it back to his family. After all, his sister Carmine, younger by a year, attended the college, too.
At least thinking about his bigoted, racist family drove any hint of lustful appreciation out of his body.
Aaden returned his focus to where it should be, spotting Aziel. When he peered down at his friend’s face, he noted the way Aziel’s brow lifted, the question in his dark eyes. Fortunately, the man didn’t stop counting to put voice to whatever was rattling around in his mind. Aaden appreciated that.
Once Aziel settled the bar back in the cradle, he eased to a sitting position. He leaned down and grabbed his water bottle and took a swig. All the while, he continued to eye Aaden.
“You done, then?” Aziel finally asked.
Aaden nodded, relief filling him that that was all the man asked. While Aziel remained relatively quiet, especially compared to the rest of the guys on the football team, he seemed to see a lot more. Aaden wondered how he’d come to be that way.
“Ready for a shower, then gotta study for a literature exam,” Aaden told him. Grimacing, he muttered, “As if I’m ever going to need to know why Claudius murdered his brother and how it shaped his nephew’s life.”
Aziel chuckled. He opened his mouth, the look on his face making it seem as if he was going to explain it, but then he snapped his jaw shut. Instead, he shrugged his big shoulders and said, “Good luck.”
“Thanks,” Aaden replied. He began to turn away, then paused and asked his friend, “You need me to spot you on anything else before I head out?”
Shaking his head, Aziel replied, “Naw. You go ahead. Mitch just walked in. I’ll shanghai him into helping me.”
Aaden gave his friend a mock bow, then headed toward the doors. He waved at Mitch, a tight end on the team, getting a, “Hey, man,” in response. Exiting through the doorway, he headed out of the weight room.
Once Aaden entered the locker room, he strode to his locker. He quickly stripped, tossed his dirty workout clothes into his bag and grabbed his towel, wrapping it around his hips. With his shampoo and soap in hand, he headed to the washroom.
Picking a shower head, he quickly hung up his towel and started the water. He swiftly washed his hair, then began scrubbing his body with the bar of soap. Tipping his head back, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the water flowing over his face, then down his shoulders and body.
Almost immediately, the image of Aziel’s sweaty skin appeared on the back of his eyelids. His blood flowed south, and his cock plumped. He snapped his eyelids open, fighting back a gasp as even his balls tingled.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit!
Arousal simmered through his veins, making him feel equal parts twitchy and pervy. No way was he going to jack off to memories of his buddy’s sweaty skin. It didn’t matter how nice he thought the man’s smooth, dark-chocolate, heavily muscled torso appeared.
So not going to happen... especially in the goddamned locker room where anyone could walk in.
Aaden swiftly shut those thoughts down. After scrubbing briskly, ignoring his twitching cock, he rinsed, then shut off the water. He grabbed his towel and wrapped it back around his waist, more than ready to get out of there.
He needed to get to the safety of his room.
Then I’ll put on some porn and take care of this. Het porn.
Aaden didn’t want to be gay. It scared him how much his body responded to a sweaty male figure. He couldn’t be gay, not in his family. With the slurs he’d heard from his mother over the years, he just knew—
“You okay, Aaden?”
Aaden’s body jerked. He swung around to find Andre standing to his left. The young man’s brows were furrowed as he swept his gaze over Aaden’s face. He looked concerned.
Grabbing his t-shirt, Aaden quickly nodded before yanking it over his head. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
Aaden fished his jeans out of his locker, then realized he still hadn’t dried his legs. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Andre was now staring at the opposite row of lockers. Grateful, since his cock was still stubbornly stuck at half-mast, he dropped his jeans and quickly dried off.
“I called your name three times, that’s all,” Andre stated. He opened a locker and began pulling out his own towel and shower supplies. “You looked a little... spaced out.” Peering his way again, he scowled. “You should eat some protein or something.”
Barking a laugh, Aaden felt himself relax. God, he sure enjoyed Andre’s sense of humor. He’d never had any white friends growing up. His parents wouldn’t have allowed it. For some reason, white people were just as sneered at as gays.
Go figure.
“Yeah, I’ll do that,” Aaden replied, smirking. “Just finished working out. Same as you. Definitely time for some food.”
“Here.”
Aaden focused just in time to catch the bottle Andre tossed to him. He frowned at the label, not recognizing the brand. Still, the tag said it was some kind of electrolyte water flavored with lime.
“This any good?” Aaden asked, cracking the seal and sniffing it. It certainly smelled like lime.
“It’s not bad. It’s Sumak’s favorite, and he always makes certain I have a couple bottles in my gym bag,” Andre replied, grinning. “He likes to take care of me,” he finished with a shrug as he popped the cap on his own bottle of pale-green liquid.
Taking a tentative sip, Aaden felt his taste buds explode when the tart flavor flowed across his tongue. He pursed his lips as he muttered, “Holy crap. Your boyfriend likes this shit?”
Andre tipped his head back and laughed loudly. His grin spread wide across his face as his eyes twinkled. Calming, he nodded as he took a deep swallow of his own drink. Andre’s lips twisted for a second as he obviously needed to get used to the flavor, too.
“Wooee,” Andre whooped. “That first sip or two does have a bite,” he agreed. “It’s why I don’t take it into the gym.” His mirth eased as he added, “It’s just better not to rub some of the guys’ faces in the fact that I’m dating a guy. Ya know?”
After swallowing another couple of gulps, Aaden nodded. “Yeah. I get it,” he confirmed. He set the drink on the wooden bench that ran along the middle of the aisle-way. Dropping his towel, he picked up his jeans again and pulled them on. “Besides,” he continued, focusing on sliding the fabric up his still slightly-damp legs. “If they give you shit, then they weren’t your friends to begin with.”
“True that,” Andre responded. “See ya, man. Gotta clean up and go see my man,” he stated with a grin as he closed his locker and headed toward the showers. After a couple of steps, he paused and peered over his shoulder at him. “And I meant it. Protein, Aaden. You’ll feel better.”
Aaden nodded as he picked up his drink once more. He saluted his friend with the bottle, then turned and grabbed his duffle bag. After closing his locker, he started heading toward the exit, pulling on his coat as he walked.
Striding swiftly, he made his way across campus to his dorm building. He headed inside, returning the greetings of several guys who were watching TV in the front room. Jogging up the stairs to the second floor, he hustled down the hallway.
Seeing that Andre’s dorm room stood open, Aaden slowed. He thought that was odd, since he’d just left the man in the locker room. No way could he have showered and beaten him back to the dorm. Thinking maybe he’d just forgotten to close his door, he passed his own room and headed the three doors down where Andre stayed... occasionally.
Hell, Aaden wasn’t the only guy to notice that Andre spent a hell of a lot more time at the manor where his boyfriend, Sumak, lived than at the dorms.
Hearing voices in the room, Aaden took a quick peek into the room before ducking back out of view. He frowned, realizing the three in the room were Andre’s parents and eldest brother—Rogan, Matilda, and Parson.
What are they doing here?
Aaden couldn’t imagine that Andre was expecting them, since he’d made that comment about going to see his man after his shower.
“Are you sure this is the best way, Rogan?” Matilda murmured, her voice barely carrying to Aaden’s ears. “I mean, maybe he’ll be reasonable if we can just get him over to the house for supper, so we can talk to him about it.”
“He’s refusing dinner with us until we accept his boyfriend,” Rogan replied, a sneer in his voice. “You know that.”
“We could just say that they both could come, then kick the fag out and keep Andre there. I can get rid of one little cocksucker while you pull Andre away.”
Aaden recognized the voice of Andre’s brother, Parson. He’d learned from Andre that Parson had beat the shit out of Mace—the family’s middle brother—when Parson had discovered his brother was gay. Then, the man had told his father, and Mace had been disowned.
Gods, I can just see Farhan doing that to me. Aaden grimaced as he thought of his brother. The man is married with two point five kids... if you count the dog.
“Then Sumak will know something’s wrong,” Rogan snarled. “Can’t have some asswipe getting in the way of our plans to have Andre institutionalized. This is the best way.”
Institutionalized? What the hell?
“And you’re sure this is the best place?” Matilda questioned. “They utilize the latest techniques to cure patients of the gay?”
Aaden sagged against the wall, his jaw hanging open.
Holy Mary mother of God! Andre’s family planned to do what to him? I have to warn him!
Turning away, Aaden hustled to his room. He unlocked his door and eased quietly inside. He tossed his bag onto the bed as he yanked his cell from his pocket.
Aaden scrolled through his contacts, locating his friend’s name. He hit the button to dial, then held it to his ear. Swallowing hard, he shifted from foot to foot as he listened to one ring, then two, then three.
Finally, Andre’s voicemail picked up. Grimacing, Aaden tried to call again. When he received the same result—Andre’s voicemail—he left a short message.
“Don’t come back to your room, Andre. Your parents are here, and they’re talking about taking you to some place that cures gays. Call me.”
After hanging up, Aaden rubbed a hand over his mostly shaved head. Shit. What if Andre doesn’t listen to his message in time? Aaden decided to try to find his friend. He needed to make certain he got the warning.
Aaden shoved his phone back into his pocket. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly before opening the door. He noticed that Andre’s door was still slightly ajar, indicating that the man’s family was still in there. Striding swiftly to the stairs, he jogged down them.
Andre waved at the guys who were still on the sofa, taking a minute to holler, “Hey, if any of you see Andre come in, tell him to call me asap.” Once he received positive responses from a couple of the guys, he left the dorm.
Running across the space, Aaden kept his eyes peeled for his friend. He didn’t see him. Storming into the locker room, he spotted Aziel drying off after what must have been his own shower.
“Aziel,” Aaden called, getting his attention. “You seen Andre around?”
Aziel shook his head. “Naw, man. He left right after you did.”
Aaden nodded and turned around, heading back out of the room as he wondered what to do then. He knew only that Sumak lived at the estate north of town. The place had high security and shit, making it almost impossible for people to sneak in.
A few months before, Aaden’s buddies Aziel, Mitch, and Andre had tried to sneak into the place. The trio had told him that they’d been turned away by guards. They’d all appeared uncomfortable while discussing their adventure.
After making another sweep of the common grounds, Aaden realized he’d need to succeed where his friends had failed. He needed to sneak into the estate, so he could try to find Andre. Jogging across the grounds, Aaden headed to his car, wondering how the hell he was going to do that.
Chapter Two
Grigoris came out of roost swiftly, just as always. One second asleep and the next aware of everything around him. He rose from where he crouched on the rooftop. Lifting his arms over his head, he stretched his back, hearing a soft pop. Grunting, he spread his wings and took to the sky, swooping down off the roof to a large balcony.
Pausing for a moment, he admired the night sky. The crescent of light left the dark expanse above full of easy to see stars. He spotted a satellite as well as a couple of planes. His keen eyesight even allowed him to make out the faint swirls of the Milky Way.
I love living way out here.
Smiling to himself, Grigoris enjoyed the faint breeze as he headed toward the French doors leading into the manor. As a gargoyle—a paranormal creature that slept as a living stone statue by day and woke up by night—Grigoris lived with dozens of his own kind in a group called a clutch. Each gargoyle had a large suite of rooms on either the second or third floor. His own were on the third floor, and that’s where he headed.
