Adamant Spirits, page 120
Never had the ring of a hammer on stone sounded sweeter than when Ben's blow shattered his chains. His little brother, his apprentice, setting him free.
"We have made a deal with the butcher. He will help all three of us escape, but we must go tonight," Ben said, poking a bit of wire into Tor's manacles. He wiggled it a bit, and they popped open. Within minutes, Tor was free.
It was a terrible thing indeed, to take pride in his brother's skill at picking locks, for he never would have learned it had they not been arrested and transported here. Yet they were here, and if they could escape and be free, perhaps they could make a life here, just as they'd planned.
"Thank you," Tor said, rubbing his wrists. The manacles were gone, but he still felt their weight. Maybe he always would.
"We could hardly escape without you. All three of us go free, or none at all," Dunstan declared.
Tor's heart swelled with love, at the loyalty of his brothers. Yes. They would all be free. Miss Kelly would help them…
Miss Kelly. He could not leave Miss Kelly. He'd promised.
They would understand. His brothers had known what it was to love a woman. Dunstan with his misplaced passion for the innkeeper's daughter, though she played him false, and Ben with his misguided infatuation for that wretched woman who had gotten them into this mess in the first place.
They would understand that he could not leave the woman he loved.
Tor turned again, letting out a sigh of contentment as the chains no longer clinked, for they were broken on the smith's anvil, discarded on the ground. And Catena was here in his arms, her warm body just a breath away. Better than he deserved. Almost like a dream…
Tor drifted off again, his dreams far fairer than they had any right to be.
Fifty-Five
Catena woke in the predawn light, with the warm weight of Tor still asleep in the bed beside her. Huh, so gargoyles did sleep after all. Or maybe just after a marathon sex session. She slid out of bed, careful not to wake him, and walked stiffly to the study.
She'd made up her mind. She would apply to do her PhD project on things hidden in houses, and other buildings here in Western Australia. And when, not if, she found what she needed to free Tor, she'd share it with him so he could live the life he deserved.
After last night, she hoped he'd be willing to share at least some of that life with her, but she didn't want to be too greedy. He deserved to choose his own path, after sleeping through so many years.
She jotted down a summary of the project in an email to Bishop, then sent the whole proposal off to him. If she didn't get a scholarship, she might still be able to scrape by on her librarian's salary, plus the rent from the shops downstairs, now she owned the building and all. Whatever. She'd work things out. She owed it to Tor.
The sun had risen while she'd been working, and her stomach was bellyaching about wanting breakfast, or at least coffee. She peeked into the bedroom on her way past, to find the bed empty.
He was gone. No kiss, no goodbye, nothing. Swallowing back tears that threatened to overwhelm her, she dragged her heavy heart to the kitchen. She'd have Irish coffee with her breakfast this morning, and bugger anybody who dared to complain about it. It wasn't like there was anyone here who could complain.
She stepped through the kitchen doorway, and for a moment, it felt like her heart stopped.
Tor stood in front of the fridge, holding the baking dish in one hand. With his other hand, he scooped up an enormous spoonful of chocolate pudding and stuck it in his mouth. Then he licked the spoon clean. Every swipe of his tongue sent echoes through her lady bits, memories of what he'd done to her with that tongue last night.
Her mouth dropped open.
"That's…not a breakfast food," was all she managed to say. Then again, if she'd seen it first, she probably would have eaten it herself this morning. Chocolate pudding beat Irish coffee, hands down.
"Now, the ladies in London had chocolate every morning for breakfast, my mother used to tell me, though how she knew is a mystery. Maybe she made it up to amuse my little brother, who was always fascinated by stories of what the quality got up to. Mum was a gentleman's granddaughter, but her cousins were the ones with all the money, not her side of the family, so none of them made a fuss when she married Dad, who was just a farmer. Never thought I'd be eating breakfast like a London lady here in the colonies, though." The spoon tinkled into the empty baking dish before he set it in the sink. "You look like you could use some coffee, or maybe some chocolate. If you have any more, that is." A beam of sunlight shot through the kitchen window and hit him squarely in the face. Tor raised an arm to shield his eyes. "Gah, but that's bright. I'd forgotten how brutal the Australian sun can be."
She couldn't seem to close her mouth. It just…wouldn't…
"Forgive me for my rudeness, Miss Kelly. I have not yet wished you good morning, or enquired after your health. Where are my manners?" He cleared his throat. "Good day, Miss Kelly. I trust you slept well?"
She tried to speak, but all she could do was splutter.
His eyes turned grave. "I see how it is, and I am not surprised, though I won't deny I wish things might have been otherwise. I thank you for your kind hospitality, Miss Kelly, and I wish you all the best for your future health and happiness." He bowed, and headed for the door.
Was he quoting Jane Austen at her? He was hardly a Darcy.
"Don't go! Please!" she blurted out.
He managed a smile, but it did not reach the sadness in his eyes. "I know when I have outstayed my welcome, Miss Kelly, and it is clear that you regret the unfortunate events of last night. I can offer no excuse for my behaviour, for it was as if I was under a spell, but I can tender my sincerest apologies for any unpleasantness I may have caused you…"
"Six orgasms were not unpleasant!" She felt her cheeks grow hot. Of all the things to say…
Another bow. "I am delighted to hear it, Miss Kelly." He didn't sound it, though. And he was still edging toward the door. Leaving her.
"Tor, please, at least let me make you a coffee. Or tea. I think I still have some hot chocolate, if you haven't had enough already…" Now she was babbling. She stamped her foot. "Damn it, I don't want you to go. I don't regret what we did last night, though I would like some more sleep, and…what happened to your wings?"
Only now did she realise they were missing.
"Stolen from me as I slept, or some such thing," he said cheerfully. "I woke up without them, but with the most enormous appetite, so I hied myself to your kitchen and…availed myself of your hospitality."
"And the sun…doesn't hurt you any more…" she said slowly.
"I would not say that. It's just as blinding as I remember. Why, with all the limestone dust in the streets, getting into our eyes, tearing up in the sun, it's a miracle more of us did not go blind. My youngest brother, Ben, would use up half his water ration, washing the grit from his eyes, he was that worried about it. He had the makings of a great artist, and he meant to become one…"
Realisation dawned. "You're free. You even have your memories back. Whatever we did last night broke the curse. You're free!" She threw her arms around him, and was surprised that he didn't feel any different. Well, except for the wings, he was just as warm and hard as ever. "What do you want to do first?"
He grinned impishly. "Well, I don't rightly know. Last night, you had me making a list…"
Catena blinked. "Oh, we still have leftovers from dinner, if you like."
That grin turned devilish. "After you fell asleep, I rearranged the list in my head, so to speak. I decided that the one thing I wanted to taste first was the chocolate sauce from that pudding. I wanted to lick it off your bare breasts."
She swallowed. He was looking at her like he had last night. If he ordered her to undress again…there were definitely going to be more clothes on the floor. "I think I have a bottle of chocolate sauce in the pantry…" Shaky legs carried her over to the door, and she had to hold onto it to stay upright as she scanned the shelves, unseeing, until her eyes focussed on two bottles, tucked behind a big packet of sprinkles. Before she could second guess herself, she grabbed all three.
She held out a bottle to Tor. "This one's for you."
He looked askance at the other one.
She wet her lips. "I have some wishes that involve licking, too." She let her gaze drift down his chest, his abs, and the pants she really didn't want him to be wearing right now.
Fifty-Six
Several hours later, after taking a steamy shower and cleaning up the sticky mess of sprinkles all over the dining room table, Catena noticed a new email from Bishop in her inbox. It consisted of five words: SEE ME IN MY OFFICE.
She sighed. He was going to shout at her again, she knew it.
Now she needed a protector at her side, the position was vacant.
"Ha, I know that look! It's the peculiar expression you get when someone is about to start shouting, as though you want to run and hide." Tor grinned at her. "I swear I have no reason to shout at you, and though I am not officially your protector any more, I do feel a peculiar responsibility to uphold your honour, even if my own actions thus far have been less than honourable…" He coughed, then cleared his throat. "Allow me to make amends, Miss Kelly. After robbing you of your virtue, I feel it only fitting that I should ask for your hand in marriage, so that you do not suffer any ill consequences from the spell that defied both your and my good judgement last night. So, Miss Kelly, as I believe you are above the age of consent, will you…"
"No." She almost laughed at his shocked expression. "Times have changed, Tor, as I keep telling you. I haven't been a virgin for quite a number of years now, so I'm pretty sure there was no virtue for you to steal. If by ill consequences you mean an unplanned pregnancy, that's not going to happen, either, because this is the age of contraception, which means I have a little injection once every few months, and don't need to worry about that. Even if I did, being a single mother is perfectly acceptable in this day and age, and under no circumstances do I need a husband to take care of me." She softened. "But, in a few years, if you stick around and get to know me better, and maybe you decide you want to ask me again, I would not be averse to the idea of marriage."
His frown didn't lighten. "But we have shared a bed, Miss Kelly, in the most vigorous fashion. I hope I am not too forward in suggesting that the desire to do so again might grow too strong to resist. But if we are married…"
There was still so much she'd have to explain about her time, and how different it was to the world Tor had known. "Tor, I love you. The sex is amazing, and I want to have a lot more of it with you. Tonight, if possible, and tomorrow, too. I think you're a wonderful man and I want you to stay with me, if that's what you want. I really can make up one of the guest rooms, if that would make you feel more comfortable. But I am not going to marry a man I've only known for two weeks. Two years, maybe."
"So, am I to understand that in this time, pouring chocolate and sprinkles into and licking them out of unmentionable places is acceptable, but a short courtship is not?"
His abs were not an unmentionable place. Still, she said, "Yes."
He nodded gravely, his mind evidently turning it all over before he spoke. Finally, he said, "Very well. And what of other things? Will you permit me to protect you during the two years we must spend courting, before I am allowed to ask for your hand?"
No way was she going to be able to keep refusing him for two years. Best that she didn't tell him that, though.
"I don't really need much protecting, but if you were to come with me to a meeting with my research supervisor at the university and maybe loom protectively, I would be grateful," she admitted.
His eyes narrowed. "Chocolate and sprinkles grateful?"
She laughed. "I'll have to go to the supermarket for more sauce and sprinkles, but, yes, I'll definitely give you another blow job."
"Only if you allow me to reciprocate."
"Of course."
If they kept this up, the clothes were going to come off again, she was going to dig out that last bottle of butterscotch sauce, and they'd have to clean the kitchen again.
"Look, let's go meet with him now and get this over with. Then we can go out for dinner, I can introduce you to tacos and the sheer decadence that is queso, at the Mexican Kitchen up on the Terrace, and we can swing by the supermarket before we come home."
Tor inclined his head, then held out his arm, like something out of an Austen movie. "Miss Kelly?"
She laughed, grabbed her bag, and headed out onto High Street with him.
Fifty-Seven
The moment she entered Bishop's office, he beckoned her to his desk. "Sit," he said.
She did. Tor took the seat beside her.
"Now tell me where and how you came up with this project. And keep your voice down. My soon to be ex-wife finally agreed to a divorce settlement last night, and I was up all night celebrating. Must have had a bad batch, what with the headache I have this morning."
She wasn't surprised he had a hangover – Bishop's capacity for drink at the department Christmas parties had long since passed into legend. For a celebration this momentous…he'd have drunk enough to drown an army.
Catena explained about the shoes, and how it had led her to identify the West Australian sized gap in the current research on the subject. She didn't mention the part about gargoyles. Luckily, neither did Tor.
"So, will you sign off on it?" she asked anxiously.
"It's a low budget project with high media value, plus think of all the papers you could write, with so many sites! You know if you write enough papers, you can just staple them all together and submit that instead of your thesis? I've already put out a call to all my colleagues for anything in their investigations that might qualify as hidden objects, and you'll want to contact the National Trust. So many heritage conservation projects going on at the moment with the government funding to help prop up the construction industry. I've spoken to the board, and while it's not official yet, they've all given their approval. In fact, there's a couple of top up scholarships you might want to put in for, on top of the one you originally applied for, because it's a good idea to get as much funding as possible while your project is the flavour of the month…" He went on for a bit longer, but Catena didn't need to hear the rest. He'd put it all in an email later, if he hadn't drafted it already.
Finally, he stood up to shake her hand. "I look forward to working with you on this project, Miss Kelly." He was smiling at her, but she knew what he really saw were all the potential citations, because his name would be on those papers, too.
She didn't mind. She thanked him, and followed Tor out the door to the taco place.
Fifty-Eight
After tacos, they stopped for ice cream on the way home. Poor Tor wanted to try every flavour, but settled for the rum and raisin, swearing he'd be back to try the rest. Catena didn't doubt it.
"Are you sure you don't mind sharing your lovely home with an ex-convict?" Tor asked. He'd finally admitted to it over dinner, though she'd pretty much come to that conclusion anyway, so it had hardly come as a surprise.
"You've been living in my house for longer than I've been alive, and you've been the most well-behaved housemate I've ever had for the last two weeks. As long as you're not planning to do anything illegal, I'm sure we'll be fine," she said.
"That thing with the sprinkles…"
"Not illegal, as long as we don't do it in public."
"I like this time!"
With Tor by her side, ice cream in her hand, and a PhD project and scholarship on the horizon, Catena had to admit she was quite fond of it, too.
"So, what do you plan to do, now that you're free of your chains, Tor?" she asked, then added, "After tonight, of course."
"Ah." He took a big bite from his ice cream, without even wincing at the cold against his teeth. "My memories have started to come back, and I believe I may have mentioned to you that I have, or had, two brothers, who were transported with me to the Swan River Colony. The night I escaped, they came with me, and they also met with the butcher named Pearse, who hid us in the cellar of his home. My last memory is of the three of us together in the cellar, before the butcher turned me into the man you summoned to your aid that night.
"My brothers. I wish to know what became of them. Did they become gargoyles, too, bound to serve other masters? If so, then I must find a way to free them."
If they could actually pin down what they'd done that had freed Tor. They still weren't sure.
"But first, I must find them. Will you be willing to assist me? Your knowledge of this world is far superior to mine. Perhaps in the aether, you can find a picture of them."
Finding a picture on the internet, among the billions on there. That was like making a video go viral, when most of them only ever got a few views and died an ignominious death. If only that had happened to the Moth Man.
"I'll see what I can do. I'll probably be better at finding a way to free them, seeing as that's one of the things I'll be studying as part of my PhD research. I can't believe a pair of old shoes could be such good luck." Catena shook her head.
"I would very much like to see these lucky shoes," Tor said.
Catena frowned. "I thought you already had. I mean, you were there when I found the second one."
Tor shook his head slowly. "You instructed me to stay out of your neighbour's house. I never would have disobeyed such a firm order, especially not when I might alarm the poor widow."
"But there was a penis. Your penis, sticking out of the wall. I saw it for only a moment, before it vanished. Into the wall, just like you do. Or you did, anyway." She stared at him. "That wasn't your penis? I was staring at some other gargoyle's penis?" She burst out laughing. "I bet it was him dancing on the roof, too! I'm so sorry I blamed you, Tor." She eyed the frown on his face. "You have forgiven me for that, right?"
