Starting Book 2: The View From Up Here

Beginning of Book 2

In all the time Mike had been alive, he never had much use for home repair. Any issues inside of the house were fixable with a quick call to the landlord, and the worst he had ever dealt with was a dishwasher that had backed up onto his kitchen floor.

However, there was no landlord to call, no problem that could be fixed with the push of a button. It was his house, his problem, and right now, the front of his home was a wreck. The planking had been torn up from the wraparound porch and the railing destroyed when a psychotic witch had hurled Abella across the yard and into the decking. The roof above it had begun to sag, though it was quickly shored up by spare wood that Tink had found. Luckily Abella was crazy strong, and Mike had mostly supervised the reinstallation of the support beams, watching the gargoyle lift the roof up high enough while Tink replaced the old support beams, standing on a ladder while Mike handed her tools.

The little goblin was the picture of home improvement efficiency. By the time he had returned from the greenhouse last week, she had already ordered almost everything they needed to fix the front of his damaged home. Each day brought with it a new shipment of supplies to fix the broken porch, and Tink made the time to show Mike how to help her fix the house.

The bushes had been pulled – the trellis beneath had been removed; the delicate wood shattered by Abella’s impact. Tink had found a new trellis online, declaring the Magic Screen the best invention known to man. The shipment was supposed to come in next week, with instructions to leave it at the bottom of the driveway. Mike was no longer taking any chances with deliveries, especially not after Sarah the witch had ended up nearly killing him with such a simple disguise.

Tink was busy taking measurements, making several notes in a small journal Mike had bought for her. She wore a pair of overalls and a white tank top, both purchased in the little miss section of a store for tweens in the mail. The goblin was a whiz on the sewing machine — she had taken in the sides and adjusted the legs so that the clothes were a perfect fit. Her hair had been pulled back into a bright red ponytail, a pencil tucked behind each ear with a third in her mouth. Making another note to herself, she set her pencil down, measured another gap, and then pulled the pencil from between her lips to write down her findings. She wore an ankle brace now, her foot still well enough to be walked on. It had been a struggle to make the little goblin take it easy around the house for a couple of days, but Mike had told her it was Human Law that a wife needed to let her husband care for her.

“Excuse me?” Mike heard a voice and turned around to see a young man holding a box on the front walk. “Mr. Radley?”

“That’s me.” Mike signed for the package. The delivery driver waited patiently, taking no notice of the little green woman fixing the porch. Mike even looked back to make sure she was there, marveling at how the magical Gaes protected his home. Unless invited inside, nobody would be able to see the magical creatures that lived within.

“Your house is so cool,” the driver remarked, taking the paperwork back. “When I was a kid, my friends and I used to dare each other to ring the bell. We all thought it was haunted, but none of us ever got the guts to actually make it to the door.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“I dunno, weird stuff always seemed to happen around here. I know this will sound stupid, you know, kids and all, but one time my friend Billy actually made it to the door. He was going to hit the bell when we heard this woman scream bloody murder at him, so we bolted. I think it was a rabbit under the porch or something, I hear they can scream like people.”

“No, it’s a ghost. She’s a screamer. Does that shit all the time.”

The delivery driver’s eyes widened, the blood draining from his face. Mike waited several breaths and then winked at him.

“Oh, shit, you had me, you actually had me. Felt like I was ten all over again. Have a good day, man!” He waved, jogging back to his car and driving away. Mike looked at the porch swing, Cecilia rocking gently back and forth with a smirk on her face. The banshee was sort of like a ghost, but she was definitely a screamer.

Mike brought the box inside, carefully unpacking its contents. Satisfied that everything was there, he quickly organized them on the kitchen table. Scooping up the first bundle, he walked out the  back door of the house into the garden.

The garden area was built like a courtyard with the wall of the garage to the left. That transformed into the stone wall that surrounded the property, save for the wrought iron gate that gave access to the forest behind the house. In the middle of the yard was a large fountain, and standing in it was the nymph Naia. She had summoned tiny spheres of water that bounced across the surface of the fountain, currently being chased by a pair of determined squirrels. Tossing her greenish-blue hair over one shoulder, Naia winked at him.

“Hello, lover,” she said, the skirt of her white gown floating on the water’s surface.

“Naia.” He had discovered the nymph his first night in the house, a sexual encounter in his bathtub that had swapped a small piece of their souls, binding him to the house as its Caretaker.

“What’s that?” She asked, pointing at the small bundle he was holding.

“A couple of things.” He handed the nymph a catalog. “First, here’s some flowers I thought we could plant by the fountain, along with some pots for them to go in. I brought you the catalogue so that we could pick them out together.”

“I love flowers!” Naia hopped up and down, her breasts jiggling pleasantly beneath her gown.

“I also bought you this.” He held up the small jewelry box. Opening the lid revealed a small pendant on a silver chain. “It isn’t anything special, but it reminded me of you.”

“For me?” Naia stared at it, stunned.

“Yeah.” Mike lifted the chain and showed her the pendant. In the sun’s light, it reflected several different colors. “This is abalone jewelry, it’s made from a shell.”

“It’s beautiful!” Naia turned around, lifting up her hair. Mike fastened it around her neck, taking in her scent while leaning against her. She lifted the pendant to inspect it. “I love it.”

“I hoped you would.” Mike kissed her gently on the neck. The fountain swelled with water, briefly overflowing on every side.

“Remind me to thank you properly later.” Naia pressed her ass into him. “I’m afraid if I take you now, Tink will get angry that you are avoiding work.”

“You’re one thousand percent correct,” Mike said, remembering Tink had bitten him yesterday for surfing the internet on his phone instead of bringing her a box of screws from the garage. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Naia blew him a kiss, and he walked back through the house to the kitchen, grabbing a couple more items. On the front deck, he turned right and made his way to the porch swing. Sitting quietly on the swing was Cecilia. She wore a pretty white dress with simple black shoes, and her white, sightless eyes stared out into eternity.

“You brought me something?” Cecilia asked.

“I did.” Mike held up the large cushion. “Well, it’s more for me.” Kneeling beside her, he detached the old, ratty cushion from the swing. Cecilia vanished when he pulled it away, and reappeared on top of the new one once he had it tied in place. “This way, I can sit and visit with you for a little longer. The old one was starting to hurt my back.”

“Oh, to be alive,” the banshee said, touching the new cushion with ethereal fingers. “Sit with me tonight?”

“You can count on it.” The first time Mike met Cecilia, she had scared the crap out of him. Now he spent his evenings visiting with her in one way or another. Mike sat on the new cushion, swinging gently a few times. “Oh man, that is so much better.”

“I’m glad.” Cecilia faded from sight, but the swing kept moving even after Mike got up. Walking into the yard, he looked up at the roof. “Abella?”

The gargoyle appeared in the sky, circling briefly before touching down. Her wings closed around her body, forming a hooded cloak.”Yes?”

Mike handed her an iPad. “I got this for you. It has access to Prime Video, Netflix, and Hulu.”

“Are those magic words?” Abella asked, inspecting the the screen in her hands. Mike had purchased a protective case for it, the kind that was meant for little kids. He figured the extra wide handles would keep Abella from accidentally cracking the screen. Touching one of the apps on the tablet, her eyes grew wide as the screen flashed, the app now open.

“No, let me show you.” Mike instructed her in the usage of the tablet. Abella didn’t need sleep, so spent her hours watching TV through the back window of the house. She watched in fascination as Mike explained how to order up the different shows and movies with the touch of a finger.

“This little screen is like magic!” the gargoyle declared, holding it up against the sky.

“And you can take it anywhere. Just don’t let it get wet, and if that little battery picture in the corner gets empty, I can plug it in for you.” Mike suspected this would happen most nights – the thing only had a battery life of ten hours and it might be worth it to have Tink build Abella a docking station.

Back in the kitchen, Mike looked at the rest of the contents. He had ordered a few power tools for Tink - the little goblin was doing most of her work by hand, and he knew that she could work a lot faster with a few extra modern conveniences.

The last item was in a small jewelry box. As he picked it up, he ran his fingers over the top, wondering if he would even see her. Shaking his head, he stuck the box in a kitchen drawer that contained a bunch of keys, scissors, and tape.

A thud on the wall brought his attention to the giant collection of vines that had framed the window looking out into the back. Smiling, he walked to the fridge and opened it, pulling out a plate with a five pound roll of raw beef that had defrosted overnight. He unwrapped it, tossing the plastic wrapper in the trash can beneath the sink.

Opening the kitchen window, he handed the meat to the hungry vines that waited, watching the Mandragora drag away its snack. Ever since it had eaten the witch last week, the plant had been very docile with him, acting like a puppy dog that followed him around whenever he was out back. The vines would slither around him like snakes, eagerly awaiting a gentle pat or even a rub. Mike felt ridiculous scratching a leafy vine as thick as his wrist, but the plant seemed to like it.

Mike grabbed a pair of orange sodas from the fridge and some plated sandwiches he had made earlier. Walking out front, he approached the goblin from behind. She was bent over, trying to get a stubborn board to lay where she wanted it. He gave her butt a playful slap, which caused her to drop the board on the deck with a clatter.

“Break time,” he announced. Tink looked at him, then back at the board, coming to a decision over what was truly important to her. Licking her lips, she followed Mike to the front steps of the house, sitting next to him with her sandwich clutched in both of her little hands.

“This one extra good,” Tink told him, mustard clearly leaking from her sandwich. For whatever reason, she had developed an obsession with trying mustard on all of her food; eggs, chicken, toast, it didn’t matter. Licking mustard off her fingers, Mike couldn’t help but smile at the cute picture before him.

“Thought you would like it.” Mike bit into his own sandwich, then took a drink of his soda. “Looks like we still have some work to do out here.”

“Maybe finish tomorrow,” Tink informed him, peeling the crust off her sandwich and used it to scoop up the extra mustard that had covered her plate. “Then figure out goggles.”

“That’s right. We need to get those back.” While chasing Jenny through the house last week, Mike and Tink had run across a Labyrinth and its resident minotaur. Tink had lost her magical goggles while escaping, and reminded Mike on a daily basis that they were super important to her. However, she also saw the wisdom in letting Mike heal from the wounds he had sustained from a fight with a witch and a fire elemental, so had taken to repairing the damage that Sarah had done.

“Stupid cow-fuck,” Tink muttered under her breath. Her vocabulary was the result of a brain injury she had sustained decades past, but she was a genius when it came to repairing the house.

Mike gave the goblin an affectionate squeeze. “We’ll find a way to make it right, I promise.” They already had a basic map of the labyrinth, though giant sections of it were incomplete. Now. he needed to figure out how to convince such a beast to give her the goggles back.   They finished their meal,  and he took Tink inside to survey the collection of tools he had purchased. Tink was fascinated by the cordless drill, her eyes fixated on the spinning metal bit. It hadn’t been plugged in long, so disappointment registered in her face when the spinning slowed to a crawl.

“Give it some time,” Mike informed her, handing her the staple gun. “You can use this to reattach the trellis when it arrives. Do you want me to show you how…” Tink pushed the stapler into the table, squeezing out several small staples into the old wood beneath.

“Tink like this one,” she announced, firing staples through the air. “No more squished fingers.”

“You got it.” Mike picked up the spare hammer he had purchased for himself. All of Tink’s tools were smaller than normal due to the size of her hands, making it difficult for him to help her without developing a cramp through the back of his hand and wrist.

“We go work now!” Tink exclaimed,  gathering up some of the hardware they would need in her arms. Mike followed her toward the front door, picking up all the stuff she dropped on the way. Stepping out onto the front porch, Mike nearly ran into Tink, who had come to a stop.

“Hello Mr. Radley.” Her hair twisted in a braid, wearing a plain dress was Elizabeth from the Historical Preservation Society. The last time Mike had seen her, she had been in the company of her daughter Sarah. “I was wondering if I may have a word with you.”

“You can talk from there.” Mike told her, looking down at Tink. Elizabeth paid the goblin no attention as Tink skulked away down the porch. Mike was hoping that his guess was correct and that Elizabeth still couldn’t see her.

“It appears that you had some trouble,” Elizabeth said, walking along the ground. She stood next to the collapsed railing. “You do understand that there is a process for approving renovations, yes? To preserve the historical integrity of the house.”

“Considering that a member of your society caused this damage,  I suggest we stop playing make believe.” Mike crossed his arms. “You and I both know that the value of this house has nothing to do with how old it is.”

“How did you do it?” Elizabeth took a step toward the porch. “An elemental, a succubus, and a witch. Any of those things would present a challenge, but somehow you surpassed them.”

“And I will continue to do so.” Mike waved his hand at the house. “They aren’t just monsters. They’re my family. How many times have your people tried to bust in here? How many times have you failed? No matter what you send at me, I will never part with this place. No matter who you send, we will stop them,” he said evenly, hoping she couldn’t hear the nerves in his voice..

Elizabeth smiled. “You certainly are feeling bold, Mr. Radley. Not many men who enjoyed living would speak in such a manner to me.”

Mike laughed. “What’s the worst you can do? You tried to eat my soul, burn down my house, and kill me. I’m not sure how you are going to top yourself, unless you have another daughter who is better than the last one.”

“We will find a way, Mr. Radley. One day, we will take something from you, something that you love, and you will give everything to get it back from us.” Elizabeth’s lip twitched in the corner of her mouth.

“Until that day comes,” Mike said, leaning over the railing, “Get the fuck away from my house.”

Elizabeth stood there in silence, the sun beating down on her face. Mike watched in astonishment as her shadow twitched beneath her, multiple limbs reaching for the home, but chased away.

“Do your best to enjoy your time on Earth,” Elizabeth said cryptically. “You no longer have much of it.”  Spinning in place, she took three steps away from the home and then vanished.

“Fuck,” Mike swore, letting out a loud breath. His hands shook as adrenaline raced through his body. He was afraid she would attack him, and had hoped that his confidence would chase her off.

“Mean lady gone,” Tink announced, standing up from the bushes with her crossbow. Mike wasn’t sure when she had gotten there, but he was relieved to know that the goblin had his back. “Next time, Tink shoot her in the face.”

“Go for it,” Mike told her. “For now, let’s get this porch fixed.”

-

Stepping through the shadows, Elizabeth entered the Great Hall. In the middle of it was a giant table with large, ornate chairs fit for a king. Elizabeth stared across the large, wooden table at the other members of the Society. Five of them were here in person, but the other six were represented only by shadows, hovering entities broadcast across thousands of miles through a form of astral projection, though Sarah had called it a Shadow Skype Call. The empty seat to her left simply had a black rose on it, left there by one of the other members. She pulled her seat out and sat down slowly, gazing at the others defiantly. In reality, she should probably be afraid. If more than a few of them decided to make a move, Sarah was no longer here to help her.

“Tell me what happened,” demanded the large shadow at the other end of the table.  The voice indicated it was male, but it lacked any physical definition to support this. Eyes like bright stars scrutinized them all from within the darkness.  His voice echoed as if through a long tunnel, a weird result of transmitting his astral body across the ocean. A simple feat for some, the High Priest was somehow able to do this without the main requirement for astral projection; a soul.  If the others turned on her, he could still help her, even from half a world away… should he choose.  And then again, the High Priest could decide to turn her into a smoldering pile of ash at a whim.

She thought carefully before responding.

“We made contact about ten days ago. This much we all know.” She was careful to keep the others updated on Society dealings because in the last few centuries, the main reason Society members were executed was for harboring secrets, usually making bids for power that resulted in an immediate backlash from the others. Everyone at this table had a vested interest in her progress on the house - each of them desired the power rumored to be hidden within. “This man, Mike Radley, is a nobody. Or rather, we thought he was.”

“They sent an elemental in after him,” Daryl, seated beside her, added. His voice was gentle, his long fingers steepled before him. “Mike Radley was able to destroy it, somehow, causing the situation to escalate. We underestimated him.”

Elizabeth nodded, grateful that he had spoken up. Daryl was a warlock fascinated with human biology, able to heal wounds, raise the dead, and create maddening creatures directly out of Chaos itself. He was easily one of the strongest magic users there, and hopefully, it sounded like he was on her side.

“And what happened next?” The shadow at the end of the table shifted - clearly the High Priest’s attention was on the real world as well; he appeared to be in the middle of dining, a shadowy goblet raised to his lips.

“We decided that the best course of action would be to eliminate him discreetly. Despite any power he has already amassed, his mind would be incapable of withstanding a spiritual assault.” Elizabeth shivered, fighting to hide the chill up her spine, afraid to speak the next few words. “So we utilized the succubus.”

Whispers around the table were exchanged, and immediately ceased. The shadow at the other end of the table darkened, the light in the room visibly dimming.

“Where is my succubus?” he asked.

Elizabeth shook her head. “I used the Heart to send her after Mr. Radley and promptly locked it away. My daugh - Sarah removed it from the safe for observation while I slept. When I woke up in the morning, I found that Sarah, the Heart, and a few other magical implements had gone missing.”

“I see.” The shadow leaned on the table, the frost spreading from his fingertips and the wood creaking dangerously beneath his hands. “And have we located her?”

“Attempts have been made,” Daryl announced. “I myself have cast several locator spells, both on the missing objects and on Sarah herself.”

“And?” The voice was impatient, and a few of the others scooted away from the table, making room for the potential outburst to come.

“The bracelet is gone, its magic spent. There exists no further trace of it on this plane.” Daryl paused, sipping water from his chalice. He appeared unshaken by the shadow’s anger. “I tracked the other magic to the grounds of the home, but was unable to penetrate the magical barrier of the Geas around it. The wand, the dagger, and Sarah never emerged from that place..”

More mumbling around the table. Each of those things was irreplaceable, but the dagger more so. As far as any of them knew, there wasn’t another like it.

“And my succubus?” The High Priest asked.

“I fear she is yours no longer. The tracking spell I used came up empty, so I used the Infernal Mirror to try and find her,” Daryl continued, seemingly nonplussed at the High Priest’s scrutiny. The Infernal Mirror was one of the greatest objects in their possession; long ago, the Society had managed to summon and trap a Greater Demon inside, one capable of answering any three simple questions asked of it once every lunar cycle. “When I discovered the loss of the Heart, I asked if Lily’s pact was still intact. The Mirror informed me that she is no longer pacted to you.”

A shadowy hand slammed down onto the table, the room shaking as a small earthquake rocked the table. “And your second question?”

“I asked the Mirror to tell me the name of the person Lily is indentured to, and the Mirror laughed.” Daryl shook his head. Everyone knew that laughter meant that the demon had found a way to avoid answering, a fault in the question itself. This also wasted the question. “Unless Lily has been destroyed, I am at a loss. Something has happened outside of my understanding regarding this manner, and I defer to your guidance.”

“And your third question?” Activating the Mirror meant asking all three questions at once. The Society members leaned in with interest.

“I asked the Mirror if Sarah still lived,” Elizabeth said, her steady gaze on the High Priest. It was not the question the others would have asked, and she knew they judged her for it. “The Mirror laughed again.”

More mumbling at the table, low whispers that sounded like a bundle of snakes. Elizabeth stared straight ahead at the shadow, wondering what its reaction would be.

“I believe this matter will require more personal attention,” the High Priest said, the temperature in the room dropping. “Something more than simply going to the house and threatening the Caretaker. Kali and Sebastien. I want you to travel to the States and assist Elizabeth and Daryl with recovering the dagger and my succubus. Find somebody who has already been in the house, someone who has been invited. They are the key to breaching the barrier of the Geas.”

Two of the shadows at the table nodded, their full attention on their leader.

“And Mike Radley?” Daryl asked.

“If the opportunity comes, kill him. But take no chances.” The High Priest faded from view, the lights in the room brightening as he left. His final instructions echoed along the walls, half command, half warning.

“And find my succubus!”

-

Wiping sweat from his brow, Mike squinted up at the setting sun. He and Tink had made quick work installing the new decking on the front porch, establishing a rhythm where Tink would lay one plank and set it with a single screw, and then Mike would put in the next three while Tink measured, cut, and set the next board. Luckily the day had been relatively cool, but Mike’s shoulders were sore from working for the last three hours, and he was thirsty.

Standing, he walked inside to refill his water bottle, sucking greedily at the cool fluid, and wondering if he should start thinking about making dinner. He had defrosted some burger meat, which would go perfect on the little gas grill he had purchased and put out back near the fountain. Burgers were simple enough, he decided, strolling out the back to preheat the grill. Tink would hardly even notice his absence – the little goblin was a workhorse, and would soldier on without him.

Naia floated lazily in her fountain, watching tiny birds land in the upper basin to bathe. A stray duck had taken up residence in the fountain, swimming quiet circles around the nymph and quacking softly to her. Several small animals had begun making daily pilgrimages to the fountain, drinking and bathing in its waters. Mike’s presence didn’t seem to bother them in the least, and on more than one occasion he had heard Naia singing to them. She was like a storybook princess, and Mike wondered if someday a prince would come and steal her away from him.

“How is it going out front?” Naia asked. Unable to leave her fountain or the enchanted tub in his bathroom, she was bound to her spring.

“Good. Tink will probably finish in the next hour without me.” Mike knelt beneath the grill, turning on the gas. “Once the porch is done, we can get the trellis in and work on replacing those bushes.”

“Sounds like you’ve been working hard.” The nymph vanished beneath the water, reappearing moments later, the fabric of her dress clinging to her breasts. “Maybe you should take a break?”

Mike chuckled. “I suppose I might be up for some rest and relaxation. I warn you though, I stink.” Clicking the starter on the grill, he heard it roar to life.

Naia laughed, a sound like tiny bells. “Maybe I don’t mind how you smell?”

“I think you’re about to find out.” Walking toward the fountain, Mike lifted his shirt over his head, temporarily losing sight of where he was going. Without warning, two powerful hands grabbed him around the waist, yanking him straight up in the air. Crying out in alarm, he heard Naia laugh in response. The flight was brief and tumultuous before he was gently set down on a hard surface.

“What the fuck?” Pulling his shirt back down, he realized that he was now on the roof of the house between two turrets. This portion of roof was very slightly sloped, but flat, and appeared to be reinforced with metal.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” A powerful tail wrapped around his waist, turning him in place. He was staring into the dark eyes of Abella, the house gargoyle. “Naia was supposed to lure you out into the open for me, but I didn’t expect you to start stripping down already.”

“Lure me out into the open?” Mike asked, looking down off the roof he realized he could see part of the fountain and most of the garden around it. The old iron gate that separated the back yard from the forest was the only part of the wall around the property that wasn’t made of stone. “Why?”

“I’ve been watching you all day. Seeing you work. Watching you sweat.” The powerful creature before him looked at her hands, her fingers weaving together and apart. “Naia told me I needed to be more forward with you, but it’s been so hard to get you alone since last week.”

Mike knew exactly what she was talking about. Ever since the incident with Sarah, Cecilia or Tink were always by his side as a precaution. Abella’s body was made of stone, which meant she couldn’t easily come inside the house without potentially damaging the floor. Looking across the roof, Mike realized that Abella’s usual perches were reinforced with steel beams that had been painted to match the wood.

“Get me alone for what?” He held back a grin, watching the gargoyle for a response. Her stony skin darkened, a color that traveled down her neck and across her upper chest. When her wings were folded in, she appeared to be wearing a soft grey cloak, but recently he could tell that she had adjusted her wings to reveal more of her cleavage.

“I watch you all the time, from above. And sometimes it makes me think of that time we, you know...” Abella said shyly as she  forced a smile. “And I was hoping we could maybe do that again.”

“Go to the greenhouse?” He asked.

“No.” Abella shook her head. “I want to have those… feelings again.” The first time Mike had met Abella, she had rescued him from the Mandragora plant, which had hungrily dragged him into the greenhouse. The interior of the greenhouse was like a separate world, and the two of them had become stranded on a cliff side with an approaching storm. Her life force drained by the Mandragora, she had suggested a sexual coupling to transfer enough energy to her body to fly away to safety.

“I see.” Mike reached out a hand to push a strand of jet black hair across her forehead. It felt stiff like hay, but yielded. “It seems like that was forever ago.” Even though it had only been last week, he had been nearly killed on three separate occasions. Each time, Abella had been there for him, and perhaps he wasn’t spending nearly as much time with her as he should be.

“Yes,” Abella agreed. “Things have been pretty busy.”

“Well, this time, we don’t have a storm approaching.” Moving in, he slid a hand around her waist. “So maybe we should take our time.”

“Okay,” she whispered, his lips finding hers. He had to take care, for though her skin yielded to his touch, it was still far tougher than his own flesh. She gently kissed him back, her tongue finding his, and one of his hands slid beneath her wings to caress her breasts. They were like giant stress relief balls, the flesh moving but requiring serious hand strength to do so. Mike squeezed them roughly causing Abella to moan into his mouth. Her breasts didn’t have nipples, so he allowed his fingers to roam, squeezing them from beneath and then sliding across her stony flesh, his hands moving down to squeeze her ass.

“Mmh!” Abella moaned, Mike’s hands squeezed the part of her ass attached to her tail, pushing in and massaging the base of it. She leaned into him, the weight of her knocking him back, and he held on, pushing back with all of his strength.

“Abella…” He was struggling to remain upright.

“Go with it.” Pushing him back on the roof, Abella’s body moved over his, her wings extending wide as she slid along his body. She fumbled with his belt, yanking on the buckle hard enough to break it before tugging down his pants.

Mike’s cock, freed from its prison, bridged the gap between them. It rubbed along the base of her stomach, and she moved over him, her powerful thighs spreading out. Her mouth found his again, and she stroked him gently with one hand, teasing her own opening with his cock.

“Two can play at that,” Mike said, rubbing her clit. Instead of two labia, Abella actually had three, forming a triangular opening that parted with a little difficulty due to the stiffness of her flesh. However, she was much softer on the inside, which Mike was reminded of as she shoved herself down on him.

“Oh fuck!” Her wings extended, flapping hard enough that both of them lifted off of the ground about a foot. Her powerful legs halted their descent, Mike’s body held pinned between them. He could feel her restraint, her desire to ride him without limit, but they both knew if she did it, she would crush him.

“That feels so good,” Mike told her, running his hands up her hips and down her thighs. She moaned softly into the breeze that had picked up along the roof, her voice carried away by the wind.

“You’re so soft,” Abella moaned, her hands on his chest, squeezing his pecs. “And you feel so smooth.”

“Maybe I should grow a beard?” Mike suggested with a grin. Abella placed a finger at his lips, shushing him. Rocking back and forth, she played with herself, leaning back to give Mike a phenomenal view of his cock sinking into the gargoyle. Her powerful legs pistoned her up and down, and she squeezed her eyes shut, holding her breath as her breasts rose and fell with each sudden shift of her body.

“Oh… oh… OH!” Abella opened her eyes, staring up at the sky, her hips twitching as her fingers worked frantically at the upper fold of her pussy. Her large, ruby clitoris was fully exposed to the air now, and Mike could see it glowing with its own inner light. Abella let out a large, final gasp, and then sank all the way down on his cock, her body relaxing as she leaned forward, a smile on her face.

Abella kissed him, hard enough at first that he knew his upper lip was going to bruise. Softening her body, she sighed through her mouth into his, her tongue exploring his.  She suddenly broke off the kiss, her obsidian eyes shining lustfully, “I want to taste you.”

“Be my guest.” He stood up, lowering his pants to his knees. Abella crouched, her legs easily locking in place so that his cock was at mouth level. Licking her lips, she licked gently around the head of his dick, getting it nice and wet. Mike shivered, the cool air across the sensitive skin of his glans almost too much. There was a breeze across the roof that he hadn’t noticed before.

Abella leaned forward, sucking him in. Her lips worked their way up and down his thick shaft, and he started to butt up against the back of her throat. Abella didn’t seem to mind, and Mike immediately wondered if gargoyles even had a gag reflex.

“Do you like that?” Abella asked, leaning away.

“I do.” Mike smiled at her, stroking her jaw. “But I like it a bit rougher than that.”

“Oh.” Abella frowned. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you if I go any faster..”

“I have an idea.” Mike placed his hands on the back of her head. Abella’s whole body was made of stone, and she was extremely strong. “I want you to relax. Let me know if this is uncomfortable.”

“Okay.” Mike’s dick slid back into her mouth, and he eased it in until he reached the back once more. Abella’s body was suddenly rigid, and she didn’t move an inch as he gently pumped himself into her face. Her tongue danced around the length of his shaft, and he began moving harder, thrusting in slightly deeper with each push. The gargoyle was unfazed, but her cheeks had darkened, and one of her hands was slowly massaging the outer folds of her pussy, exposing her ruby clitoris as she tugged gently on her lower lips.

“Oh, yeah, just like that.” Mike moved faster, amazed at the gargoyle’s resilience. She didn’t budge, and he held on to the back of her head, shoving farther and farther. The back of her throat narrowed, his dick bending slightly to follow the path of her throat. She placed a hand on his hip to slow him down, adjusting her body and lowering her head so that her throat was parallel to his shaft.

“Try it now,” she muttered around the sides of his dick. Mike pushed forward, his dick sliding past her tonsils and straight down her throat. He cried out in surprise – her throat was much warmer than the front of her mouth by several degrees, and the sudden temperature change made him tremble in delight. Abella moaned, sending vibrations through his entire dick, causing his balls to tighten up against his body.

“Oh shit!” He face-fucked the gargoyle relentlessly, holding onto her head for support, going up on his tiptoes to sink ever deeper into her face. Every time he bottomed out in her throat, she gargled  the large pool of precum and saliva that had gathered in her mouth. One hand furiously working her three-sided slit, she grabbed Mike’s ass with her other, pulling his hips tight against her face.

“Abella!” Mike cried out, and he came, filling her throat with his cum. Abella moaned, then shrieked, her face and chest turning dark as his cum triggered an orgasm of her own. Clamping down on his ass, she lifted him off the ground to suck him in as deep as possible while leaning back to get better access to her pussy. Mike noticed in astonishment that she was using the tip of her tail to penetrate herself, moaning while she bounced up and down on it.

“N’glah!” Abella grabbed Mike with both hands, pulling her mouth off his dick. Cum and saliva dripped from her mouth, pooling on the roof between them. Setting Mike down, she let out a single cry and lowered herself down onto her own tail, gripping the roof hard enough with her hands that she splintered the wood beneath her fingertips. Crying out to the sky, Abella’s eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed on the roof.

“Holy shit!” Mike tucked his dick back in his pants, kneeling to check on her. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she told him breathlessly. “Oh gods, yes. You tasted so good in my mouth, I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Fucking your own tail, huh?” Mike grabbed the tip of her tail, struggling to lift it up. It was coated in her sticky, earthy smelling fluids.

“Oh gods, I’m so embarrassed!” Abella covered her face in her hands. “Please don’t tell anybody you saw that?”

“Why? It makes sense, actually.” Mike lovingly caressed Abella’s thighs, sliding his hand gently across her swollen labia. Abella shuddered, her wings flapping briefly behind her.

“It’s a huge taboo,” she told him. “I got desperate centuries ago and started doing it in private. Even among other monsters, its considered weird to fuck your own tail.”

“I guess I’d have to have a tail to understand,” Mike said, wiping sperm off her lips.

“Just, please don’t tell,” Abella told him.

“I won’t,” he promised. “But maybe, if it’s just the two of us, I’d like to watch you do it again sometime.” A big smile crossed his face. “I thought it was pretty hot, Abella. Just like you.”

“Mike.” She blushed, standing up before him. “I’m so lucky that you’re my human.”

“Your human, huh?”

Abella nodded. “The others never understood me like you do. And none of them were ever interested in me like you are.”

“You’re beautiful, Abella.” Mike kissed her on the lips. “Anyone who tells you otherwise is an idiot. Now if you don’t mind, I need to get down there and cook some dinner before Tink eats my arm.”

Abella laughed, taking off into the sky. Swooping back around with wings spread wide, she grabbed onto his shoulders and carried him back to the ground below.

-

Rumbling to a stop in her driveway, Dana turned her car off, spinning the keys once out of habit before tucking them into her pocket. Chewing the same piece of gum she had put in at the beginning of her shift, she climbed the stairs on the side of the garage to the studio apartment up above.

Two years ago, she had gotten very lucky in finding this place. Her freshman year of college over, she had given up on dorm life, wanting a little extra room. While looking for an apartment, she had stumbled across an older woman whose husband had passed away some years back. Dana paid a small amount in rent, and made up for the rest of it in house maintenance, something she had become very good at.

In return, she had given Dana the entire garage to live in. The landlord’s late husband had been into muscle cars, and built a beautiful, vaulted garage with a small loft for catnaps and the occasionally shower. Dana had done the work last summer to finish the conversion – she had a small kitchenette with a full bath, and a queen-sized bed.

The best part, however, was the garage beneath. Half of the garage consisted of a personal gym and some storage for old car parts. The other half was a beautiful tool bench that had been custom fitted against the wall, full of every tool the widow’s husband had ever used. In the middle of the car port was an old motorcycle that Dana was restoring for a road trip in the summer. It had been over a year since she had traveled.

Since Alex.

Opening the fridge, she pulled out a bottle of Dr. Pepper. Twisting the cap off, she sipped it, savoring the cool, sweet fizzing sensation down the back of her tongue. She pulled all the tips from delivering pizzas out of her jacket pocket, then organized them by denomination. She counted them for the fifth time, then rolled them up and stuck them in her dresser drawer. She opened her bank’s app on her phone, frowning. At the current rate, she would be able to fix her bike, but not take the trip itself.

“Fuck.” Sighing, she set the phone down on her nightstand. A small wooden desk overlooked the bay, her mechanical engineering text open to the same page it had been over a week ago. Problem 53, half finished on the paper next to it, begged her to come complete it, to finish the assignment and turn it in for partial credit, something, anything. Staring down at the figures on the page, her mathematical analysis of the Carnot Cycle blurred through the moisture in her eyes. Wiping away the tear before it could form, Dana sat down at her desk, lifting her pencil to finish the problem.

She couldn’t focus. Her eyes relaxed, moving over the bay, settling on the bike below.

Leaving her desk behind, Dana was soon in the bay, staring at the old bike. She had finished repainting the frame after removing the engine, black and red just like it used to be. The floor was methodically covered in bike parts – she had taken the entire bike apart, categorizing every part as salvageable or trash. Unable to afford to purchase new parts, she had spent the better part of the last three months doing most of the rebuild by hand, pounding dents out of the rear fender, sanding the frame before repainting it, and more than one trip to the junkyard to scavenge for the parts she couldn’t.

She opened the brown box by the rear wheel of the bike, examining the contents inside. New pistons and piston rings. Staring at the bike, she wondered how much of the task she could complete before the sun rose, wondered if staying busy would keep her mind off of her problems, if even for a few hours.

Hundreds of hours had been spent as a little girl in her father’s garage, working on his car, his bike, and his boat. All things motorized were his passion, and the long hours of earning her father’s approval had translated to a love for working with her hands and a passion for machines. A certain catharsis could be found in dismantling and reassembling a device, removing the cancer that had broken it and making it whole once more.

Though she kept the bay cool, the hours became long, sweat running down her sides. Dana stripped away her shirt, working on the piston assembly in just her bra and jeans, and eventually just her bra and panties. Her skin was marked with grease, her hair pulled back into a ponytail to keep it from her eyes. Her eyesight was blurring, a function of being awake for almost twenty hours. Her next job didn’t start until 1 pm, so she could care less about sleep. She was going to miss her classes tomorrow, but she doubted anybody cared at this point.

Sitting on the cool floor, her legs slowly going numb beneath her, she watched the pistons fade from sight, replaced by the scent of the ocean, grains of sand beneath her feet. Watching dolphins breach the cool Pacific waters, she felt a firm hand gently rubbing her lower back, moving up toward her shoulders, caressing her cheek and tugging gently, pulling her in for a kiss.

“Alex,” she whispered, closing her eyes, afraid to see her dead lover once more.

The clattering of her ratchet startled her awake, her forehead against the frame of the bike. She had fallen asleep, if only for a few minutes. Too tired to continue, she stood up, leaving her work where she left it. The widow never came in here, and her friends never dropped by anymore. Climbing the stairs to her loft, Dana could feel the sadness sucking her down, more powerful than gravity. It was nine steps to the top, and she counted them, determined to at least crawl into her own bed.

“What the fuck?” Suddenly, she was wide awake, staring at the large  object that took up the corner of her loft. It stood next to her desk, an envelope taped to the front with her name written on it in cursive.

Pinching herself to make sure she wasn’t still asleep, the surge of pain up her arm informed her that she was, indeed, still awake. Opening the envelope, she pulled out the small white sheet of paper inside, torn from a notepad. The words were in cursive, tall letters that made her think of a fountain pen.

Can you fix me? Dana looked at the back of the paper, but nothing else was written. Looking inside the envelope, her jaw dropped. She pulled out the small stack of twenties, counting them in disbelief. There was just over a thousand dollars there. Looking inside the envelope once more, she found an antique key.

“Okay beautiful,” she said, stroking the smooth wood of the grandfather clock. She recognized it immediately, the clock from the old house that Mike lived in. Dana had hoped he would take her on for some home repairs, extra money to make her dream a reality. “First thing tomorrow night, I’m going to find out what makes you tick.” All thoughts about Alex and the motorcycle vanished, new thoughts on researching gears and pendulums entering her head. She tucked the money and the key into her nightstand, laying down on top of the covers to let sleep claim her. She pulled a pillow over from the other side of the bed, inhaling its long gone fragrance.

“Goodnight Alex,” Dana whispered, her voice echoing softly across the loft. Drifting to sleep, her brain tricked her into thinking she heard the clock ticking.