Page 15 of Taken for Granite
The gargoyle leaned in, pressing his face close to hers. Hot breath wafted over her face. For a moment, she thought he might lick the juice from her lips. She swallowed, her body electrified with awareness of him.
He snagged the apple and devoured it quickly, core and all, bits and chunks of ravaged apple spraying her in the face. “More,” he growled.
“I brought a box of food.” The cardboard box sat on the throw blanket. Juniper knelt and patted the ground. The gargoyle hesitated for a moment but sank to the ground. She unwrapped the turkey sandwiches before handing them over. He ate them just as quickly as the apple but waited for her to hand him the next item, bananas, and he ate the bunch whole, peels included.
He drained the gallon of water and the carton of orange juice. He emptied the box of corn flakes like it was only a handful of popcorn. Well, with the size of his hands, it might as well have been just a snack.
Strangest picnic ever.
The occasional car passed by, but no one seemed to notice. After business hours, that part of the city hibernated, so the roads weren’t particularly busy. Commuters didn’t pay attention to the girl and the gargoyle in a poorly lit parking lot.
Juniper munched on her own apple, considering her next move. Despite the sparse, low lighting, she had the opportunity for a decent look at him. Her mind cataloged the obvious differences: horns like a crown around his brow, wings, talons at the top of the wings, and tail.
Yup. Different.
His features were too perfect to be human, with sharp cheekbones and a jawline any actor or model would envy. He looked chiseled from stone with handsomely hewn features, hard all at once, but nothing about his features approached the hardness of his eyes.
This gargoyle had seen some shit.
“Do you have a name? I’m Juniper.”
He reared back, as if surprised. “What kind of name is Juniper? Explain yourself.” Standing quickly, he circled their picnic and growled. His head swung from side to side, but Juniper got the distinct impression he was sensing more than seeing. The hairs on her arms stood on end.
“It’s just a name,” she said in a soothing voice. “It means evergreen. My sister is Chloe, which means green shoot. Our parents were very committed to the horticultural theme.”
The growling transformed into an odd warbling. He paused, listening. Juniper realized the gargoyle expected a trap. Yeah, she could understand that. A strange girl comes calling with a full box of food in the middle of a deserted parking lot. He was entirely right to be wary.
“I came alone.” Foolishly so.
Something mollified the gargoyle. Juniper was sure it wasn’t anything she did.
His wings fluttered, one moving more clumsily than the other, and he settled back down to the blanket. “Tas.”
“Toss?”
“Tas,” he said, stressing the vowel.
“Why do you have a British accent?” Because the day wasn’t weird enough, the gargoyle had a faint British accent.
Claws sliced through the rind of an orange. Fragrant juice trickled down his fingers before he licked them clean. “Is that what you want to know? Or do you want to discuss getting back your young one? You plan to exchange my freedom for your Chloe.”
She perked to attention. “How do you know about that?”
“The same way I speak your awkward tongue. I listen.” His wings behind him twitched and a tail curled over a massive thigh.
Wow. The attitude on that guy.
Juniper leaned back, stunned. “You’re pretty snobby for a naked, half-starved guy. Gargoyle. Person.”
“Khargal. That is the name of my people.” His claws dissected another orange, regal as the first one.
So many questions tumbled about in her mind. She didn’t know where to start. Why was he in the crate? He had obviously been injured. Who had done that? Why couldn’t he find a pair of pants when he ran off? Why would he help her get Chloe back?
Most importantly, could she trust him?
“Chloe’s not my kid. She’s my sister,” Juniper blurted. “I mean, I’m her legal guardian, so I’m like a parent. I feel more like a parent than a big sister sometimes, but I don’t know why I told you that.”
He faced her, those gray eyes did not fix on her, yet he saw through her to the heart of what she wanted to know. “I have accepted your hospitality. It is only right that I assist you.”
