I followed Roman into the bedroom. It was a large room with a huge king size bed encased by a black wooden bed frame with ornately carved bed posts that almost touched the vaulted ceiling. I set my things down on the matching dresser and threw myself on top of the thick black bedding and tons of matching pillows strewn on the bed. Maybe Hell wouldn’t be so bad.
Roman walked towards me, taking his shirt off so I could see every definition on his perfectly toned stomach and tossing it on the floor before joining me on the bed.
“How did I get so lucky to land someone as sexy as you?”
He blushed running his fingers through his thick brown hair and slicking it back off of his face.
“I’ve been asking myself the same thing every day about you when I look and you are standing by my side. How did I get so damn lucky? I had given up on love, but you found me in the darkest place and brought new light to it.” He leaned over me, kissing me for the first time in our home we now shared together.
“So, if Azriel would have allowed you to come with me, would you have chosen Heaven?”
“Honestly, no. I belong here and as strange as it may sound, I am at peace here. Lucifer may be this horrible monster to some, but to me he was a savior, and he had my back when no one else did. I am loyal to him and always will be. I think you are too even if you don’t want to admit it. He has a soft spot for you, I can see it in his eyes.”
“Eh, he’s okay I guess,” I said sarcastically and nudged him, making him laugh.
I pulled him in closer to me so I could feel his body against mine and pressed my lips harder into his. He climbed over me, slowly peeling my shirt off and unzipped my shorts, kissing down my stomach and making me shudder with each breath of his that touched my skin. He tossed my shorts off of the bed, proceeding to move my legs apart so he could place himself in between them. I wrapped my legs around his waist, breathing heavy as I felt him fill me inside. We moved slowly and passionately together for hours. Relishing every kiss, every push, and every moan one another gasped. I felt like his body couldn’t be close enough to mine as I pulled him into me more. It was as though we were possessed, possessed by passion. When we finished with an explosion of ecstasy, I laid against his chest kissing him once more.
“I love you, Roman Ackles.”
“And I love you, Holland Ellenberger. Now let’s get some sleep, we have work to do tomorrow and an eternity to experience together.”
I fell asleep knowing that I was finally home where I belonged, in Hell.
Gargoyles:
Stone Curse
Yolanda Allard
Chapter One
Achilles
I watch her through my stone sleep; she stars in my dreams. Her giggles are as bright as the sun, I drink them in. She romps around the garden. Raven hair and eyes as green as the spring grass, she comes to sit in front of me where a blanket is laid.
Her dimpled hands grasp a teacup. “Would you like some tea, Broccoli?” She holds the teacup up to my gaping maw, shoving her fist past my fangs to pour the imaginary liquid in my mouth for me. I am grateful. She calls me Broccoli. My features are as grotesque as the vegetable to her, yet she always comes to play with me when she visits. Drawn to me in a way she is yet too young to understand, but she will someday. I long for that day. She sips her own invisible tea. The green silk bow on her head and the sash on her white dress both match her eyes. She laughs. “Oh Broccoli, you are so funny,” she tells me.
I said not a word for I am asleep, but in her mind, she heard me tell her a joke.
She picks up a real cookie and places it in my mouth. My tongue strains against my solidified form wishing I could thank her. She grabs another cookie for herself and chews thoughtfully, her mind full of conversations we are having. I wish I could be there too. What a joyous place her little mind must be.
Happiness floods me. Just being in her presence is enough. She is joy personified in a tiny black-haired form. The others watch us in stony silence from across the garden. They are in their own sleep, yet I am aware they are watching. Most likely bored. They don’t see what I do in her. They don’t have my senses to know. To feel and see the glorious shimmer that dances over her skin. I don’t have the ability to tell them. They believe another will take our groundskeeper’s place, but I know it is her. I feel what they cannot; she is our future. She is our home.
She continues to babble and giggle for some time. Asking me questions and sometimes even speaking for me in the raspiest voice her tiny vocal cords can muster. Elated, I hang on to every word.
Soon the sky turns pink and I worry her human won’t come for her before it’s too late. I don’t want her harmed and danger is nigh. My body becomes restless in concern. I cannot warn her or lead her away to safety.
As she nibbles another cookie, my fear is evaporated. Her human calls for her. She turns her attention, her singsong voice replies, “I’m coming!” She gathers up her belongings to run off, leaving the cookie in my mouth. Her silk bow falls from her hair as she prances away. Knowing she is safe, I relax. As the sky darkens, I flex and groan, my stone sleep shattering onto the ground around me. The others in the garden following behind me, waking and groaning.
Finally awake, I eat the cookie my little friend left for me and daydream of her next visit.
Chapter Two
Violet
Your whole family is dead, so here is a bunch of money, a rundown estate on thirty acres, and a chance to live in a po-dunk town in the middle of nowhere.
I stare down at the letter from the attorney; it doesn’t say that verbatim, but that is the gist of it. The letter is really a formality; I already know my parents are not coming back. I’ve lived with my Aunt Irene for six years now, ever since my mother disappeared when I was ten. It took years for Irene to stop looking for her sister-in-law and declare her dead. Then even longer for everyone to try to hunt down my father, who took off when I was an infant, since he was still named the heir to half of my mother’s inheritance. The inheritance then went to me if he was dead or unable to accept it. The letter was proof my father is dead. His body had been found in a log of long dead John Does. After I received my inheritance, my aunt decided to have us leave the southern California coast to ‘visit’ said po-dunk town to see what the property entailed. That was three months ago.
“Violet, hurry up, we are going to miss the show,” Irene yells up the stairs of our rental.
In California, Irene was an up-and-coming interior decorator. She had loved living on the water and enjoyed her career. After the letter and the news of my father’s—her brother’s—death, my aunt hadn’t gone back to work. She had never really talked about him over the years; anytime the subject came up, she would just tell me, ‘I’m sure Ian will come home when he feels he’s ready’ and that was the end of it. My mother’s death and Ian’s were both harder on her than me, I think. I didn’t know Ian aside from name and photo, and by the time I was seven I was sure he just didn’t want me. I loved my mother and I still do, but I’ve lived with my aunt for so long, a part of me thinks of her as a mother. She loves me like a daughter, I know, but she would never do anything to insult either of my parents’ memories. Her and my mom were almost inseparable from the moment my mother married Ian. There was a family joke Mom married my father just to get to be sisters with my aunt.