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“That was quite an interesting process,” I mused as we rolled down the gravel drive toward the road. “Would you do it again?”
“I liked it.” It had taken research and was only possible because of the large number of stones littering the fields in our area. While we often did make use of them, nobody had ever requested this ancient technique before. “It was a nice change, and I think some of our customers would appreciate the artistry.”
“I like to think all our work is artistic on some level,” I told him, images of our various past jobs rolling through my mind like a series of old-fashioned slides. “But I agree. This is something we can offer to customers as an alternative. People often love the traditional way of doing things.”
Another tradition was us being two single males who were unlikely to ever see that change. We’d been friends since we were young and when the time came to strike out on our own, we decided to team up, preferring friendship and companionship to stark loneliness.
My friend seemed to accept that we would never have a mate or young ones, and I admired his practicality in this as in all things. But somehow I could never let it go entirely. As we entered the Pub, which was a place where families could often be found during the day or early evening, a baby giggled, and the ache that never quite went away reared up again. Some gargoyles found their mates…obviously since we existed. Why couldn’t we be the ones who did?
“I’ll go up and order drinks if you’ll grab a table.” My friend’s voice cut into my self-absorption. Or maybe self-pity. If I couldn’t have a mate, why couldn’t I be like him and just take the best life had to offer without all this introspection?
“Sounds good.” It was busy, but I spotted an empty booth in a back corner, a little shadowed, which kind of matched my mood. Settling in, I tried not to pay attention to the family with the baby, but my gaze was drawn again and again. I had never seen them before, which could mean they were just passing through or maybe new in town. She sat in her wolf daddy’s lap, letting him feed her spoonfuls of something pureed they’d brought with them in a plastic container. In addition to lots of rocks, the area was populated by more shifters than otherwise, which was yet another reason we would be unlikely to meet our mate. Gargoyles mated with humans, if they could find any willing.
“Here we go.” Ozkuth placed two foaming glasses of the house seasonal ale in front of me. “What are you going to order?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” I hadn’t even thought about it, but a glance at the menu board across the room showed several things I liked. “I think fish and chips. You?”
He considered. “Bangers and mash.” Our host was very much about authentic food, although he did have a few more American things on the menu. The server arrived and took our orders then my friend leaned back and stretched out his arms. “Good job on that wall, don’t you think?”
“I think so.” The booming voice of Jim, our client and the owner of the Pub, nearly rattled the dishes. How a bear shifter could be of UK descent, I wasn’t sure since I understood the last of the brown bears had gone extinct there a millennia ago. Any bear shifters there must really have to stay under the radar. “I must have just missed you at the farm. Really great work. Exactly what I had in mind.” He dropped an envelope on the table. “Worth every penny, and dinner is on the house.”
“Glad you’re pleased. Have time to join us for a drink?” Ozkuth scooted over, making room.
“Don’t mind if I do.” He waved the server over and ordered a mug of ale. “Now, I need some more walls. How soon can you fit me in?”
We discussed what he wanted, but it would be a few months before we could get to them. In stone country, masons were popular men. Especially since we were known to be willing to work with stone found on property when available. Although this was our first dry-stack, it was not our first locally sourced job.
By the time we left and headed for our home—also built of local stone by us—I was feeling a lot better about life in general. Several good friends had joined us for a drink or three, and I had to admit that even without a mate, I had a damn good life. Maybe time to be a little more appreciative of it. Dwelling on what would never be did nobody any good.
A positive outlook it was. I loved my work, my friends, our home, and the area where we built it. Not many could say that. Perhaps Fate deserved more gratitude for what we did have and less whining—even if it was inside my head—about what we did not.
Chapter Three
Ozkuth
We gargoyles didn’t sleep as much as other shifters, half as much as humans. After midnight, I emerged from a hot bath, relaxed but nowhere near ready to sleep. Grabbing my book and my phone, I walked out onto the stone veranda that connected to my bedroom. We had all kinds of lookouts around the house. Our gargoyle nature demanded we perch in places outside our abode and watch over the land and city around us, scanning the place for anything amiss.
Watchers, that was what they used to call us. Back then, they assumed us unintelligent and a waste of space because we moved a bit slower. Took our time with things. Observed before acting. Thought before speaking.
I sat on my chair and looked out over the city. The place where we lived was at a greater altitude than the rest of the area and far away from other homes. In the village, where the Pub was located, most people had gone home, but a few were still visible making their way to their vehicles or houses, none lingering since the weather had turned.
The rain felt good pelting against my skin.
I stepped back under the awning only to save the paper pages of my new hardback. I preferred physical books, although I had an app full of digital versions to read at tip of my fingers. I held up my phone, clicking the button on the side, hoping for what I would not likely ever see.
My craving for a mate had never waned. Not once had I stopped seeking a female who would not only accept me for who I was but also Koruk. We knew, almost at first sight, that for the rest of our lives, we would be inseparable and if we ever found one, would share one female. Love her and care for her—have her carry our young. Koruk was the only family I’d ever known. He was my chosen family since my birth mother had abandoned me on the steps of a church.
If we found a female, she would be ours. Not mine. Not his. Ours. But our odds were not good.
I’d witnessed Koruk’s growing sadness over the years. He and I both longed for a mate, but while I thought my best friend might have given up hope, I hadn’t. I would keep it, for the both of us. Koruk and I both deserved to be happy.
But dating as two monsters turned out to be an even harder task than we imagined. Few human females would go for men who turned to stone. Everyone loved the glamorous shifters like wolves or big cats, but monsters? Not so much. Especially when we could not produce young with anyone but a human.
I’d downloaded the Mail-Order Matings app almost a year ago on a whim, registering under nonspecific monsters since we didn’t fit into the typical shifters category and the other choices weren’t anything close to us. I received an email from the service shortly after with their apologies. They’d created a category for gargoyles and even asked if there were any more paranormal entities I knew of who were underrepresented.
The category didn’t help matters. Registering for a mating app would be a long shot. A human female wanting to be the mate to not only one but two gargoyles was almost beyond imagining, but having that female sign up for the same mating app as us? A shot in the dark at best.
Still, I checked. Sometimes several times a day. Today had been busy, so tonight was my first opportunity to see if I had any notifications.
