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FORTY-THREE
"God, she's hot. Have you fucked her yet?" Ben asked.
Stan stared at him in horror, while the other men berated him for his lack of manners.
"What? She is hot. I'd like to paint her. On the beach, in a swimsuit," Ben said dreamily. Then he shook himself. "But not until the weather's warmer. Family beach picnic for Christmas at Bather's Beach. You up for it?" When he didn't get a response, he sighed in annoyance. "All right. I'll be serious. But, seriously, breaking the curse is so much easier if you're fucking her, as Tor can tell you. One night with Catena and boom! His wings fell off and he was a new man." He frowned. "Rochelle and me were at it for ages before we broke the curse, and Anemone was carrying Dunstan's baby for months before he managed to break it. Maybe it helps if you do it in your monster form. The ladies seem to like it, too, which helps."
Stan wasn't sure what to say to this boy. "Who are you?" was all that came out.
"I told you. I'm Ben Stone. Me, Dunstan and Torstan are all your nephews. You sent our Ma and Da a letter, telling us how wonderful life was at the Swan River Colony, and how we should all come and join you, and that was it, until we arrived here and no one knew who you were, or what happened to you. Then we got cursed into being gargoyles, and woke up here. We each got assigned a lady to protect, which we did, except for Dunstan who didn't use any protection, obviously, which is why Anemone's now expecting twins. With the ladies' help, we've all managed to break the curse, and then we went looking for you. And here you are!"
"But you...you're not like me. You sound like...them." He waved in the direction the women had gone.
Dunstan laughed. "You'll have to forgive Ben. He was the first of us to wake up in the present day, and he woke up in a school, where he learned about the modern world from other boys his age."
Ben gave him a dirty look. "Teenagers at an art college, thank you very much. Boys and girls, because this is the modern day, not the dark ages when you went to school. And I'm as much a man as any of you. I've been awake for twenty-one years, but if you count the years I've been asleep, I'm closer to two hundred."
"When were you born?" Stan asked.
"1834."
Stan blinked. "That's...that's the year I died."
"Except you didn't die, because you're here now. Do you remember what happened? The night you were cursed?" Dunstan leaned forward, eager to hear his answer.
Ben pointed at his brothers. "Neither of them remember the night we were cursed. I do, because I woke up when the arsehole was cutting out my heart, and killed him instead. Was it William Pearse who cursed you, too?"
"William...Pearse?" Stan shook his head. "I've never heard that name. William Steel, maybe, but I believe it was a woman who killed me. Carline Steel, the woman I wanted to marry."
"Tell us," Dunstan demanded. "Tell us everything."
So Stan did.
