The Gargoyle ~ Part 1

Word Count: 1716

Energy surged through the busy streets of London. Though the sky was cloudy with the promise of rain, curiosity propelled potential buyers into the open humid air. And just around a corner, hidden behind a popular and modern clothing store, a distinctive antique shop rebelliously stood out. One’s first notion was curiosity on first glance at the large creepy, dark stony creature that threatened to attack from the shop window. This particular creature wasn’t made from average stone. The dark porous rock matched the malevolence of its eyes. Its human-like features were almost handsome or perhaps, just a trick of the light.

Yet, beneath the rocky exterior, a presence inhabited and sensed the horde of humans who walked past his window. It wasn’t until a particular scent caught his attention and made even the stone around him breathe again. For the first time in ages, he opened his eyes. Only one human creature stood out among the crowd. But when her eyes rose to meet his, he quickly concealed his presence and retreated back within his tomb. Freedom stood just beyond the glass. Jamison, it’s her! She’s here!

Immediately, the man behind the counter winced then shivered slightly when he realized who or rather, what had spoken. When the customer was leaving, he thought, Where is the unfortunate one?

The one wearing the old blue NY baseball cap. Black hair, pale skin, and green eyes, was the gargoyle’s cold calculated response in the clerk’s mind.

James rolled his eyes. What do you expect me to do? Truss her up and drag her to the altar for you? And I hate to tell you this old chap, but the hat looks new.

No, the hat is old. Sell me to her. Now!

“No!” He looked around at the odd stares then cleared his throat with an apologetically smile. With purpose, he stomped over to the rocky sculpture in his shop window then whispered, “I will not do it. It’s wrong.” Unconsciously, his hand rested on the gargoyle’s thigh.

Don’t let her get away or I’ll be with you and your offspring for centuries.

The clerk noticed the sudden chill in the atmosphere.

“Go after her if you want her.” Nervously, he waved as a few of his customers eyed him suspiciously. “Please come again,” he called as they rushed out of his shop. Harshly, he whispered, “You are costing me customers. Stop this, Kenneth. I refuse to go up to a totally stranger, an American at that and force her to purchase you. It’s insane.”

If you don’t I’ll break out of this rock, bite your customers and call you master! Do it if you want to be free of me!

James winced. “Alright, stop shouting.” For one blessed moment, he considered the idea of peace and reluctantly waited for the American woman, who just entered the shop.

It was obvious she wanted to study the creature in the window, so James took a few steps back and pretended to polish some other antiques. He didn’t have to wait long before she edged a little closer and eyed the antiques opposite the gargoyle.

“Miss?” He cleared his throat and hated that his voice cracked.

Slowly, she turned to face him, but her eyes didn’t meet his and passed over his shoulder to the gargoyle.

Relieved, he waited for her reply.

“Me?”

“Yes. I hope you will forgive my boldness. My name is James Nightsgale. You are?”

“Daphne.”

His voice trembled slightly as he added, “Pleasure, Miss Daphne.” Briefly, he glanced at the creature in the window then said, “I was wondering if you’d like to meet Kenneth.”

Her eyes met his and she smiled. “Kenneth?” A delicate brow lifted in question. “I think you should know that I don’t want a man in my life right now. Tell Kenneth I’m not now or will ever be interested.”

This was going to be a tough sale, he realized, but said, “Please, he desperately wants to meet you.” She’ll think I’m mad for sure.

Only for a short time.

Would you stay out of my thoughts, Kenneth! I’m doing as you asked. James paused a moment, And how do you know?

Och, Jamison. I can hear her thoughts the same as yours.

My name is James. And stay out of her mind. It’s rude.

“Are you alright?” Daphne asked the clerk. “You look like you’re in pain.”

The clerk shrugged and feigned despair. “I’ll be fine. I’m just not sure how I’ll face him.”

Indignant, she gripped her purse like a weapon. “He threatened you?”

There was a twitch in his eyes and he couldn’t look at her as he tugged on his ear. “In a way.”

“Fine. I’ll meet him.”

Jamison, tell her my real name and that she may call me Cin or Eryk.

James led her to the gargoyle statue, a step away. Expectantly, he waited for her to hit him as he pointed to the plaque and read, “Cináed Eryk McCulley, but you can call him Ken. It translates to the equivalent of Kenneth, I think. But he doesn’t like to be called Kenneth, which is why I call him by that name. Or you can call him Eryk, which is what he prefers.”

She couldn’t help it, she laughed. “My very own Ken gargoyle. Sweet! You Brits are funny . . . odd, but funny.”

James lifted a brow, but she ignored him and concentrated on the gargoyle.

“I’ll take him.”

“You will?” James couldn’t disguise his shock.

She said she’ll have me, now stop making a fuss or she’ll change her mind. Remember I get a percentage of that money.

“How much is he?”

“For you I’ll give a discount and sell him for four thousand.”

I’m worth more than that, Jamison.

James shook his head, At this moment, Ken, you aren’t worth a pound to me.

The gargoyle laughed in the shop keeper’s mind.

“Out of curiosity, how much was he before the discount?”

“Twelve thousand.”

Daphne gasped. “That’s a huge discount.”

“True, but he’s been in the family for generations and if he didn’t want you then I’d have to charge you full price.”

She leaned closer. “He talks to you?”

James could smell the fragrance of feminine soap and perfume and backed away as soon as he felt the air pulsate around his throat. “Of course. But as soon as you own him, he’ll be yours.”

“And he’ll talk to me?”

After a few customers passed by, he whispered, “If he doesn’t, call him a coward . . . it works for me.”

I can hear you, Jamison.

“For the millionth time, my name is James, Kenneth.”

And my name is Cináed, Jamison.

“What does he call you?”

“Jamison.” James wrinkled his nose. “You know, on second thought, just tell me where to send him and I’ll have him delivered. No extra charge.” He made his way back to the register.

“No!” She insisted as she followed him. “I want to pay for him, delivery fee and all. I don’t want to be indebted to anyone.” Before she set her purse on the counter, she found her credit card and handed it to him with a smile. “I’ll take him on my terms.”

As he processed the payment, Daphne contemplated an even stranger notion. “Since he wanted me.” She swallowed and leaned on the counter then continued, “Is it possible to get a fake marriage license with his name and my name?”

Before James could speak, Cináed did. Not a fake. This will be legal.

“He said he would prefer,” the clerk wanted to cry as he said, “a real marriage to a fake one if it is all the same to you.”

Somewhat suspicious, she nodded. “Fine. If that’s what he wants then we’ll indulge him. But where?”

“Perhaps I should give you some background on this particular statue.” He handed her card back to her. “Miss Daphne, this particular piece of rock has been in my home since the 1600’s.”

Impressed, Daphne felt giddy with the historical knowledge. “Wow! Why do you want to get rid of him?”

“Honestly? He’s tormented us for hundreds of years while he’s been looking for a special woman to set him free.”

She interjected, “So, he’s looking for love?” When the clerk’s eyes widened slightly, she added, “Please continue.”

“Actually, his story was written down in my family’s library. If you’re serious about the marriage, I’ll send a motorcar to pick you up this evening after hours and the book of his history will be in my hand when you arrive back here for the ceremony. It will be my wedding gift to you.” It’s the least I can do.

“My very own fairytale. This is so awesome.”

James flinched at her whimsical expression and wanted to warn her, but knew it would only put her in more danger if that were possible.

She looked up at James with a hint of joyful tears in her eyes. “I know this sounds crazy, but thank you for being such a great sport about this marriage thing. And the way you presented him was genius by the way. You’re a great salesman.”

Crazy doesn’t begin to describe what you’ll go through. James jerked when he felt the gargoyle zap his arm. “It is I, who should thank you for being such a good sport.

“Thank you.” Awed, she reached for his hand and it wasn’t lost on Daphne that the clerk seemed spooked and he quickly jerked his hand away before she could touch him. “Am I too odd or is it just because I’m American, which by the way doesn’t account for my marriage to an object. It happens all around the world. I read about it and just wanted to try it. I mean it’s not like he can object when I get a divorced.”

“You’d be surprised.” James tugged his ear. “And it isn’t you. It’s because he’s too jealous. Very possessive and devoted if ever a gargoyle was, and he is.” James hoped she believed him, because it was partially true to his knowledge.

“Really?” She glanced back at her rock and smiled. “I do believe I’ve fallen in love.”

Cináed laughed, but only Jamison heard the beast’s diabolical intent.