L'Anima Ladro, InkWeaver [summer beach reads TXT] 📗

I wondered what it felt like for humans to fall, but I didn’t, not any more than I was hurt. I didn’t even get sick; if I didn’t eat, I just got an uncontrollable Bloodlust.
This time when he reached out to me, he didn’t pull back. He pulled me to him, and kept me there, leaning my head against broad shoulder. “You’ve heard of gargoyles?” He asked softly.
I pulled back and faced him. “Yes, a little; but they’re supposed to be ‘horrendously ugly, liars, thieves, and gold diggers’, or so says everybody who’d talk to me about them.” Except for Uncle…but I didn’t say that, it’d only bring up unwanted questions. “And you’re not ugly…you wouldn’t need to be a gold digger…but as for the other two…” Romeo laughed, flashing semi-sharp teeth, only slightly more rounded than a vampire’s.
“Well, the werefolk and blood-drinkers have never been really keen on us, not since the treaty…” It was his turn to draw to an awkward halt. I wanted to ask what treaty, but something in his eyes told me it wasn’t something I’d like to hear about. “Anyway,” He continued, as if wanting to get my mind away from any temptation to press for details, “We, the Stone People—as they call us on account of our skin—otherwise known as gargoyles, have emotions and consciences just as strong, or weak, as a werewolf’s, some even have hearts as soft as humans.”
I gave him a curious look. A race that differed as much as Romeo claimed seemed almost impossible; humans, though they had a varying degree of ruthlessness and mercy, were humans, they weren’t one of the supernatural races. And Werewolf hate was much stronger than a human’s; we were about one hundred times more likely to spend most of our lives on revenge, though we outlived them by centuries.
“So…you’re one of the better ones?” I asked, still trying in vain to fit what the wolves had said along with Romeo’s version. If he was one of the nicer gargoyles…well, let us just say I wouldn’t like to meet the rest.
But Romeo just laughed, “One of the nicer ones?” He chuckled, “You haven’t even seen me partially angry; I have a rep of being ‘son of the devil and one of his she-demons’, back where I come from. And nobody can look at me without revulsion. I am, to say in the least, one of the ugliest gargoyles.
I had to admit, he wasn’t the most handsome guy I could get; if I was interested in ‘getting’ him, anyway. But he wasn’t a beast or anything; except for maybe when he was in his gargoyle form and I didn’t mind that really. It was no worse than my wolf form.
“You don’t look that bad.” I said, wondering how anybody could think he was ugly; even in gargoyle form he had some sense of handsomeness. Then his face hardened.
“I might not now, but I happen to be one of the gargoyles who can go one step further than this mild change.” I looked at his purposely expressionless face, and sighed.
“Why don’t you just change? I’ve had worse things happen to me than to be blinded for a moment.” I demanded. I’ve never had much patience with self pity. But I guess I never really felt it an important enough cause to work against, not until I met Romeo.
“You won’t like it. You won’t look at me the same.” He argued, “I’ll just be the monster you met before you knew Romeo; let’s hope my name is wrong, let’s hope I’m just Paris.” I stepped back.
“At least allow me to make that decision myself!” I snapped, my voice sounding harsher than it was supposed to, “Let me decide for myself, the monster or the man!” I wondered where that little bit of poetry came from, but it seemed to have done the trick.
“As you wish; but…before you run…” Before I could make a move, his lips were on mine. The kiss lasted only a second before he was back on the other side of the room again, but it filled my head with such notions, and my heart with such feelings, that I had to push it away. I was in love with the moon. I had loved Uncle as a father. Besides, who’d ever heard of love at first sight? It’d been a day; it was just that cute face that kept me from bolting.
I’d usually been a good liar; but not now. I was thinking of how much I wished Romeo could be a werewolf. The headstrong race would be better off, and I’d at least understand something about him. That was when my vision started to fog.
I expected it this time, so it wasn’t as frightening as the first time it’d happened. Unfortunately, I still had to hear the dull thump of bones readjusting themselves. Oddly, I heard the crack of the spine, higher and wetter against the others. Apparently Romeo was startled too, because just before his nerves disconnected he let out a…sound. It was somewhere between a yelp and a gasp.
A yelp? Why would Romeo yelp? Were gargoyles now dogs? I’d never heard a story that mentioned shape shifting. Especially not into dogs.
“Romeo!?” I called into the white, artificially darkness. “Romeo!?” I kept telling myself I shouldn’t be so afraid for him, when he’d tried to kill me early. But I did feel the fear, clutching mercilessly at the pit of my stomach, twisting it into a tight knot that wouldn’t come undone until I could see Romeo. As much as I tried I couldn’t help shake the feeling…the one I had for the young man…it wouldn’t leave me.
A small growl replied to my call. It was like a spell; the clouds covering my vision lifted, and I could see what it was that lay in the heap, bigger than Romeo had been as a gargoyle. Fur, the color of early morning mist after a rain…large paws…pointed, raised ears…


Chapter 11

A wolf! My first thought was: ‘where’s Romeo?’, but then I realized what the yelp had really meant. Romeo…was a wolf!
I was by his side in an instant, realizing that he was still even bigger than a regular werewolf; the lowest point of his back went up to my chin. He was larger than a big horse.
“Romeo?” I asked, worried. He turned one red eye on me. Yes?
I jumped. The wolf’s muzzle hadn’t opened, and even if it had, all I’d hear would be barks, perhaps even something I could translate out, with my knowledge of wolf language. I was also pretty sure that the voice had come from inside my head.
I’m…a wolf… Romeo’s voice said, seemingly shocked. That’s different. How do I look? Not only can he swear like a Frenchman, but he was also as vain! I thought he was supposed to be Italian.
I looked him over, even with his odd, slightly exotic fur color, and his eyes, he looked pretty good; definitely better than the ordinary street wolf.
Not bad…I thought to myself, still, to my embarrassment, staring at Romeo.
Thanks. I’ll take that as a compliment. I laughed, and elbowed the giant wolf in the shoulder.
“Are all Italians this vain, or is it a gargoyle thing?” I asked him, before realizing that he’d heard my thought. Me thinking, ‘not bad’! I sprung up again.
What? He seemed actually worried that I’d suddenly jumped away from him. I wondered what he thought, before remembering that I already knew all there was to know.
You can read my thoughts! I can read yours! Romeo gave me an odd look. It said clear as day, that he didn’t want to talk about it. But I met his gaze and eventually he dared say, I have a theory…but I’m going to find out more before telling you…giving you false ideas isn’t my intention. I didn’t press; I sensed it would be useless.
Then Romeo said, but we forget something. I gave him an odd look. What are you? He asked, and I immediately felt guilty. I had him spill out his guts to me, and hadn’t even told him the beginning of my nature!
I took a deep breath, I am a half-blood. I waited for something like disbelief to flash across his face, but he just nodded. It makes sense.
I gave him an exasperated look. Nothing else but a powerful half-breed or another gargoyle would be as even a match for my abilities. He explained patiently. I grinned slightly at the praise. I guess we were both vain.
I am a vampire and werewolf mix, Romeo. I told him. But I guess that was something he hadn’t expected. He gave me a look that could have made both of mine seem merely like bored expressions.
That would explain it! His inner voice cried. It shrunk when I retorted, Romeo, would you please stop speaking in riddles! Would you care to share with me what exactly ‘it’ is? He laughed slightly though, so I knew that my exclamation hadn’t really dampened his spirits.
Do you remember, back at the alley…?


Chapter 12

“Yes…?” I urged, forgetting to speak in my head. I was beginning to think that I was getting in deeper and deeper with every word I spoke; I was unsure of whether this was a good thing or a bad thing. I guess I’d have to figure it out later, like so many other things.
You remember when I passed out? I laughed. “Fainted? Yeah, it was just this morning, Romeo.” Romeo growled in a way that was clearly intended to be menacing. I laughed again.
Anyway…you don’t understand how it could have happened. It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway. It was because of your natures. I was sure that the odd look on my face clearly told him what my voice was too proud to say; I was completely, absolutely lost. I had no clue what he was talking about. Uncle had never really covered that much about gargoyles.
It’s hard to explain; but I’ll try. You know vampires have the darkest soul of any of the races. Well, apparently werewolves have the purist…We sat in silence for a moment…it’s because of their link with nature, not because of them as individuals. Romeo assured at my less-than-subtle skeptical glance.
Gargoyles are taught this when they learn the art of soul theft…don’t give me that look! I laughed. I began to do some experimenting, and drew a conclusion: half-breeds of the two soul extremes (pure and dark) have no soul.
“Wait, are you saying that I am…?” I couldn’t bring myself to say the words: heartless, lacking of soul…I’d rather have a vampire’s dark heart than none at all.
Please speak with our link, Nik; you voice is lovely, but everything is awfully loud. He lowered his great head onto my lap, and again I felt that strange feeling, as if I was looking at the venerable side of the villain. What happened to the girls who fell in love with the villains in the movies? Weren’t they killed, or thrown in jail, while the one they’d thought would always stand by their side drove their car into some ditch after having too many drinks?
I didn’t love Romeo. And if I did I wouldn’t admit it, not to myself, not to Romeo, not to anybody. But I doubted that he’d do that to me. He’d pay for the fines, or, if necessary, kill, to get us out; as would I. I didn’t like to kill…that