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I had yet another slew of semi-obscene notifications, and this time, I was fully awake and in possession of my faculties, hangover be damned. So, before going in to the reply to my message, I dashed off a note to the administrator explaining what was happening. Perhaps they didn’t care about how their members behaved, but perhaps they did, and I might be saving someone else some trouble. I filled a mug with the last of the coffee from the French press, added some cream, and set it in the microwave to heat before turning back to my phone. There was another reply, this one from admin.
We have reviewed the messages you asked about, and those who sent them have been warned. Another such action will have them removed from the app. We apologize for the inconvenience and hope it will not color your response to any actual matches you have received.
Actual matches? Did whoever this was know about the one I received? Somehow I’d assumed it was all automated, a computer putting people together, but perhaps not? I considered asking, but the other reply, the one from the possibly real gargoyles waited for me, and so I decided to let curiosity stay in the background—or at least curiosity about how the system worked. My nosiness about the nature of monsters who signed up on a dating app? Well, that was endless.
With my fresh cup of coffee in hand, I carried my phone back into the studio and sat down at my desk. Their reply was charming, and I decided that if they truly were gargoyles, their hearts were not made of stone no matter about the rest of them.
My friends seemed to have all chosen cookie-cutter men, all so similar, sometimes I thought only hair and eye color differentiated them. Successful, working in various kinds of offices, they were stylish, fit from working out at the gym, several inches taller than their beloveds, and owned many pairs of shoes as expensive as the handbags Cindy had given out. Or at least I assumed so since I wasn’t shopping for those things. But, in short, they were very boring men, which was why I rarely allowed myself to be fixed up on a date with friends of their friends. No. I wasn’t sure what type of man I wanted, but not that kind. I had once admitted to the girls that I thought it was sexy when a man worked with his hands. Self-made men with their own business, whose muscles came from honest labor or even genetics but not hours spent lifting weights at the gym or running on treadmills.
I considered that a waste of effort when physical labor could be put to something useful like gardening or, I don’t know, animal husbandry. Maybe I was a snob. But I found most of my friends’ guys blah. My mind turned to the gargoyles. What did they do for a living? The only kind I’d ever heard of were the stone ones guarding buildings. Did that mean gargoyles were like security guards?
Well, it was something that needed to be done. Honest work. I scanned their profiles but they seemed to lack job descriptions, so if I wanted to know, I’d have to ask.
Glancing at the time, I noted there was still an hour or two before I could reasonably take more painkillers for the headache that made my temples throb, so I tried to turn my attention back to my assignment, but my mind kept trying to come up with a good response to the gargoyles’ reply. My friends would know how to flirt and be charming, but they would not be talking to two monsters because they preferred guys in auto leasing or maybe insurance. No, I was on my own here, and since I knew very little about these two except that they seemed to want one woman to share, and, I’d noticed, they wanted her to be human. For some reason. I pulled my courage together and typed, Thank you for your reply! I know virtually nothing about your people, but I’d like to learn more about you. Would you mind if we planned a video chat?
We’d set a time, maybe tomorrow when I looked less like pond shit. It would be fun. Certainly an adventure to meet these guys and safe from a distance. I hit send.
Chapter Eight
Koruk
“She wants to video chat.” I waved my phone. It had chimed as I was getting some tools from the truck. And of course I’d opened the app right away. “To learn more about us.”
“Really?” Oz turned from where he was stacking some stone preparatory to working on a more standard wall. “That’s certainly promising. Does she say when?”
“No.” I read it aloud. “Thank you for your reply! I know virtually nothing about your people, but I’d like to learn more about you. Would you mind if we planned a video chat?” I shrugged. “So right away?”
“I think that’s what she means,” he said. I mean, she doesn’t say we have to wait. And the sooner the better, right? If she’s curious about us.”
“Do you know how to do it?” Because I’d made it this far in life without chatting to anyone in video mode. It wasn’t exactly a requirement for my part of our work, and if anything technological was needed, Oz took care of it.
“Oh sure.” He stood up and dusted his hands on his jeans. “Pass it over here. Do you think we should wait until after we go home and clean up?”
“What if that makes her think we aren’t that into her?” I’d never thought we’d have a woman interested in us. “We can’t let her get away.”
He chuckled. “It’s not like we’re going to tie her up and carry her off. She’s over a thousand miles away, you know. She can escape if she wants to.”
“Do you think she will?” Horror suffused me at the thought. “You don’t think she’ll like us?”
“Well, why wouldn’t she. But we don’t need to be something other than what we are.”
“What are you saying?”
“Let’s call,” he said. “I’ll dial her up right now. If we wait, we’ll just get nervous.” He meant me, but I wasn’t going to be anything but grateful. Oz tapped some buttons on the screen, and after several seconds, she appeared, but she didn’t look the same as she had before. The image on her profile appeared to be a professional shot, with her hair styled, makeup, and a button-down blouse and jacket. She even had a scarf tied around her neck. But the woman who faced us now was anything but fixed up for a photo.
She was definitely the same person, with the dark-brown hair and lithe, curvy figure, but unlike in the still photo, Malinda was anything but put together. But I didn’t mind in the least because she looked like she’d just gotten out of bed, and that image embedded itself in my brain and would not be easily removed.
My gargoyle, who was a stoic fellow and rarely had anything much to say, was on alert and more than interested in this female who he declared our mate the second her face appeared on the screen. In fact, he’d been muttering that in the background since we knew she existed.
I’d spend a lot of years trying to convince myself that I was fine on my own. Or, with my friend, at least. We had one another for company, a successful business, our beautiful stone home we’d built with our own hands… Really, few people, paranormal or otherwise, could say the same.
But now that I’d seen her, all that preparation for a single life was out the window. I felt raw and vulnerable and as if I’d die without her. Not good. Malinda hadn’t even agreed to see us yet, so it made no sense to be this way, but I couldn’t seem to turn it off.
“Hi,” she said, nibbling on her lip and turning it even pinker. “I didn’t think you’d call so soon.”
“Oh.” Oz glanced at me. “Is this a bad time? We can call later or tomorrow?”
“No, it’s fine.” She pushed her hair back from her face. “As long as you don’t mind me without makeup or anything.”
