Stone's Kiss Read Online Free PDF Page B

in all his otherness, he was majestic. Scary as hell, but lovely as a predator.
    Fear was absent and she should have worried for her sanity, but somehow it all seemed right. The gargoyle was a prominent part of her childhood. He had always been home to her.
    And “home” was presently extracting himself from the shower. When he stepped out, he straightened. The bathroom shrunk.
    Good God, he was still hunched over.
    He was massive. Over eight feet of gargoyle crowded her master bath. She couldn’t beat that in a fight. Her sword’s point dipped again, but she didn’t lift it back into a defensive position. One solid hit and he’d put her through a wall. Hell, he could probably snap her blade in two with a thought. At least the sword’s weight stopped her hands from shaking.
    “Hello,” she said. Her voice came out faint, hollow sounding. She cleared her throat, unable to stop the nervous reaction. “I’m Lillian.” How intelligent. At least her voice sounded stronger.
    He cocked his head, his jackal–like ears sweeping forward from the depths of his wiry mane. She hadn’t noticed his ears earlier; they’d blended into his ebony mane and the crown of bone which formed the base of his two largest horns. He expelled the breath he’d been holding and took another. His nostrils pinched shut.
    Good lord, she must smell worse than she thought.
    His talons clinked against the tiles as he took another step forward. She backed away until she slammed into the doorframe. A squeak escaped past her lips. He snatched a clean bath sheet off the rack and snapped it open with a flick before she could think to run at his sudden move. No matter which way he tugged, tucked, or arranged it, the towel wouldn’t reach around his muscular girth. With a deep rumble he grabbed a second bath sheet. Tied together, the two sheets proved large enough to fit around his waist and haunches. But he still didn’t seem happy with the arrangement. Constricted by the material, his tail flicked like a downed power line, offering a new threat to modesty. It occurred to her shock–slowed brain that all the poor creature wanted was some privacy. A blush burned across her cheeks a second time.
    A flowing language issued from his throat, deep, beautiful, smooth like the wind in a forest. It reminded her of night’s shadows and the lull of beckoning sleep. He repeated himself, or she thought he might have. She couldn’t be sure because she didn’t know what he’d said the first time, and it became no clearer on the second try.
    He was gesturing at her now. She nodded and pointed to herself, “Lillian.”
    “Lillian,” he repeated in a clear deep voice. He pointed behind him.
    She followed where he pointed. The shower? Shrugging, she pointed at the shower. “Shower.”
    He nodded his head, pleased. “Lillian, shower.” Then he ducked under the doorframe and marched away, leaving her in the steam–filled room with the shower still running.
    Too shocked to follow, she stood gapping like an idiot. Her first conversation with her gargoyle. Something she dreamed about as a child. It finally had happened. Two words. He’d told her she reeked in two words.

Chapter Five
    Freshly showered and now dressed in a clean sweater and jeans, Lillian stood over the pile of her discarded clothes and frowned at the evidence which proved she hadn’t imagined the last few hours. She poked the bloodied and shredded clothes with a bare toe. No hope of ever getting them clean enough to warrant mending. The mess of ruined fabric landed in the garbage with a wet sound. She washed her hands again. Hopefully, she smelled better to a gargoyle’s delicate nose.
    During her bath, she’d washed away the remainder of her fear. How could she fear anyone who looked as ridiculous as he had, jammed into the shower with wings and tail jutting out, horns scraping the ceiling? Besides, she was still alive. If he’d wanted her dead, he’d had plenty of opportunity. Instead