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FORTY-TWO
The lights were still on at the Shut Up Café, but the CLOSED sign was clearly visible on the door as they walked past on their way to Anemone's apartment. Tacey was nowhere to be seen – probably in the kitchen, doing the washing up, Alethia decided. Good thing they'd agreed to go to this woman's house...before Stan could put his foot in his mouth and say something he shouldn't.
"Stay quiet," she hissed at him as Anemone stepped inside foyer.
Someone behind her guffawed. "Why, do you think he's going to give away that he's over two hundred years old if he isn't quiet? Like Dunstan or Torstan could blend in for more than five minutes – ha! You'll fit right in, Uncle Stan."
Alethia turned, to find a whole group of people following behind them. "Who are you?" she asked, bewildered.
The man closest behind her bowed. "I am Ben Stone, the youngest brother, and I'm an artist. Most well known for my gargoyle cartoons, where a centuries old gargoyle wakes up in the present day with a wicked case of caffeine withdrawal, and takes up residence at a coffee shop. I'm on all the socials. Viral like you wouldn't believe. And when I'm not drawing, you'll find me having hot, hard, heavy monster sex with the lovely Rochelle here." He pulled a protesting girl into his arms and bent her over for a showy kiss.
"You can't tell people that," she scolded when he released her.
"Why? This is my uncle, and there's no way he can be alive without some supernatural assistance. Right, Uncle Stan?"
"Get inside before someone hears you and we get a new media circus camped on our doorstep in the morning, looking for the Moth Man again!" a new woman hissed, shoving Ben toward the door. In the light, Alethia recognised Catena.
"If they do, call me. I had the most wicked suit made, and it arrived a few days ago. I'll put it on and give your press crew quite the show." Ben wiggled on the spot in what Alethia clearly recognised as the Macarena. "Don't worry, Uncle Stan. I can teach you so you can put on a private show for your girl here, too." He winked.
"Everybody inside, please, so I can lock up!" Anemone called.
Ben and the others trooped inside.
"Up the stairs, my apartment's the one on the right. Catena's place is the one on the left, but I've got a better coffee maker and cookies, so we're headed to mine. Oh, and watch out for the cat. Her name's Lucky and she likes to sneak out, so try and keep her inside the house, please. She's not all that into new people, so she'll probably disappear as soon as the door's closed, but just in case..." Anemone opened the door, and a black streak raced out. Right into Dunstan's arms.
He managed to keep hold of the struggling cat while everyone hurried into the house, but once the door was shut, he gave up and let the cat loose. Instead of leaving, though, she headed straight for Stan, who'd taken a seat on the couch. After a few rubs against his shin, she vaulted into his lap and settled there, purring as she kneaded his jeans.
"Ah." Anemone stared at the cat for a long moment, before sitting opposite Stan. "So, Stanley Steel, how long have you been a gargoyle?"
"A what?" Stan and Alethia asked together.
"A gargoyle. Wings, horns, claws, tail, hard-on that lasts all night, allergy to sunlight and no need to sleep, eat or drink?" Ben said.
"But..." Stan began, his eyes widening.
Ben took the seat beside Stan and draped an arm around his shoulder. "I'll handle the explanations. You girls take care of refreshments. Not because girls are better at it...except that Anemone and Rochelle would banish us from any kitchen, for good reason."
Alethia raised her hand. "I definitely belong in the banned from the kitchen club, too." She moved to take the seat on Stan's other side.
Ben was having none of it. Which made no sense, because he definitely looked like the youngest person in the room. "Nope, I need to talk to him about you, so you're going with the girls. I promise, if he tries to tell us about life in 19th century Scotland or the Swan River Colony, we can match him, tale for tale. Besides, he's probably going to need a drink by the time we're done with him, and Anemone's the best one to make it."
Anemone tucked her arm into the crook of Alethia's elbow. "He'll be fine with them, I promise. They're mostly harmless, when they're not trying to protect me from something." She grimaced.
"Wait...they're your protectors? Demon protectors?" And she was married to one? Alethia could scarcely believe what she was hearing.
Everyone burst out laughing except Alethia and Stan.
"No, gargoyle protectors. Demons don't exist!" Dunstan burst out, amid more laughter.
Ben stopped laughing. "Yeah, they do. I met one once. At an art class. He gave me his business card in case I ever needed his services. I probably still have it somewhere." He glanced up to find everyone staring at him. "What? It was a public art class. Open to anyone. It's not like they had a sign saying gargoyles and demons weren't allowed. We had a friendly chat. Just like we're going to have with Uncle Stanley here."
Alethia swallowed. This was shaping up to be a bad idea.
"Do you want to help him? Give him his life back, and his freedom?" Anemone asked.
"Is that even possible?" Alethia choked out.
Anemone nodded. "With your help, it could be. Come with me."
Alethia followed her to the kitchen.
