Chapter 20
Genevieve woke to the sound of the phone ringing. She forced her eyes open and winced at the dull ache throbbing behind them. Dreams of Finn, tortured and in pain, had again chased her all night, while he avoided her and occupied himself with the wolves.
It was her fault. If she hadn’t responded to him a second time, it wouldn’t have left them both exposed.
The phone rang again. She cleared her sleep-clogged throat and fumbled to answer.
Miranda barely said hello before jumping into what she’d called about. “I’ve been doing some research on Druids, black magic, and creating chimera, which is what Finn is. He’s part one creature and part another.”
Genevieve struggled to a sitting position and propped a pillow behind her. “Please tell me you’ve found something helpful.”
“I’ve been concentrating on the reasons behind why he was turned. And the lessons he was forced to learn.” She paused, and Genevieve could hear her talking to someone and papers rustling.
“Sorry. I’m at work. With every lesson Finn’s learned, he’s weakened the curse to some extent.
“If that were true, wouldn’t he be changing on his own?”
“In the beginning, he could have been far more monstrous than he is now.”
“He told me when he was first turned into the monster he lost his reason. So maybe you’re right. But what can he do to speed up the process of reversing it, Miranda? I don’t believe he’ll survive another six hundred years as he is.”
“There’s a lesson he hasn’t learned or an action he hasn’t taken yet that’s needed to break the curse.”
Her mind rushed with possibilities. “What do you think it might be?”
“I don’t know. But Juliet and I have been working hard to create a spell that will reverse the transformation. He might still transition into the stone creature during the day, but he may be a man at night.”
Genevieve bent her knees and rested her forehead atop them. “How dangerous would this be for him, Miranda?”
Silence stretched on the line. “We don’t know. We can’t be sure. We’ve never tried anything like this before. And it will take more power than Juliet and I have. We’d have to ask some other witches in the area to help us.”
The more people who shared Finn’s secret, the more dangerous it was for him. What if someone decided to steal and imprison him while he was frozen in statue form? People would flock to see a real gargoyle. And even worse, what if they just wanted to destroy him? Humans didn’t trust things they couldn’t understand.
What had inspired Cinead to choose such a creature?
Carvings of chimera began with the ancient Egyptians. Then the Greeks and the Romans borrowed from the cultures they conquered, and absorbed the gods of other cultures into their religion, until Christianity put a stop it.
“What if Cinead was Druid, but his beliefs were tied to an older belief or religion?”
“What do you mean?”
“There have been carvings gargoyles of one kind or another since ancient times. To ward off evil, to warn the illiterate masses against the evils of worshiping false gods, and as decorative structures on buildings to redirect rainwater away from the foundations. Some were even used as fertility symbols. Why did Cinead choose this particular creature?”
“I have no idea. It had to be significant to him. Or it could have been the most hideous thing he could imagine.”
She didn’t find Finn hideous. But he had been terrifying to behold at first. Because it just seemed impossible such a creature could truly exist.
“I’ve been carving away at one of the toenails of the statue, just shortening it. It did change to his claw when he transforms to the creature, but now it’s sore and not healing. At first he suggested cutting off his tail. Thank God I convinced him it needed to be something smaller. Otherwise he’d be in agony.”
A thoughtful pause came across the phone. “You should never have tampered with things at all. Even this small thing has come back on him. And it could come back on you, too, Gen. Leave it alone.”
Genevieve raked her hair back. “He’s so desperate, Miranda. Maybe if he has some hope to cling to…” She didn’t want to be responsible for his suffering, not even a damaged nail.
“Juliet and I want to confer with some of the others before we go any further with the spell, Gen. And you need to ask Finn if he’s willing to risk having a larger group knowing about him, meeting him. He’s so unusual…amazing, really…it will be a huge challenge for some of them to resist talking about him. And the spell could be extremely painful for him. Or worse.”
Miranda’s insights set off another round of anxiety. “If he’s willing for me to take a hammer and chisel to his statue, chances are he’s ready to try anything. Arrange for the ladies to come tonight, and I’ll call you as soon as I’m able to check with him.”
“That sounds good. I think if they can get a feel for the magic around him, they might have some insights into how we need to proceed.”
She wanted to share what she was feeling with Miranda. The words I think I messed up kept playing through her mind. The heart-racing, breath-stealing moments between them might make Finn more reckless. It could very well feed his desperation.
Why did she feel this way about him? Why had she wanted the statue to begin with? Were their feelings real, or were they caused by the magic that surrounded him?
After hanging up, she clutched her hair in frustration and gave it a tug. What kind of monster would cast such a spell?
And Cinead MacLeod was the real monster. Finn had been arrogant and cocky. Handsome and charming. And he behaved reprehensibly by taking advantage of a vulnerable young woman and refusing to accept his responsibilities. Had she met him then, she wouldn’t have liked him at all.
But he’d more than paid for his mistakes. He was different now. He’d learned from them. His need to protect her from the repercussions of their relationship was proof he’d changed.
He could have pushed for more last night. But it was he who had backed away. And she was grateful. There might be hidden dangers to such a relationship besides the obvious. He was a creature of magic, and she was a human with no mystical powers. He was not completely human anymore. She had to accept it.
What if the curse extended past turning him into the creature? What if it had other properties they weren’t aware of? What if there was a punishment attached to getting too close to him physically, emotionally?
It was already too late.
* * *
The blurred image on the computer screen of Genevieve in the shower was too indistinct to give Simon any satisfaction. The light bulb camera wasn’t powerful enough. He would have to find an alternative and install it as soon as he got an opportunity. If he could think of something to get her out of the house for an hour or two…
He chose the bathroom block on the screen and clicked on it. It went to full screen. The frosted glass in the shower door distorted her shape. When she turned off the water, he waited for her to open the door, and leaned closer to watch her step out. Her dark hair was slicked to her neck and back. He caught the curve of one pale breast as she reached for a towel and brought it against her, almost as if she was covering her nudity, even though she was alone.
Was she always so modest?
When they were together, he would teach her to be unconcerned with her nudity. He’d have her parade around the bedroom naked for hours until he had his fill.
She brought the towel up and rubbed her hair. The back and forth flopping of the terrycloth kept him from seeing her body, and when she moved out of the frame, he swore. There had to be somewhere he could place a camera so he could watch her, enjoy her naked beauty. He clicked on the screen and the block shrank so he could scan the other camera images, concentrating on the bedroom camera. She walked into the frame already dressed, but was still drying her hair. She’d taken her clothing into the bathroom with her.
That, too, would change after he moved into the house with her. He would teach her to please his…needs. He would touch and taste every inch of her, and he’d teach her how he liked to be touched and tasted. The thought brought his semi-hard cock to a full-blown erection.
He went back to the bathroom camera and rolled back the digital image to freeze it at the point where she stepped out of the shower and leaned forward to reach for the towel. He concentrated on the sweet curve of her breast. They were soft and firm. He’d purposely hugged her close before kissing her cheek so he could feel her body against his. And was disappointed and angry when she didn’t press closer or linger. That would change. He’d insist on it.
He opened the top desk drawer and reached for the tiny strip of lace he’d stolen from her laundry basket. His hands shook as he unzipped his black pants, lifted his hips and tugged them and his boxer briefs down to mid-thigh.
He shoved his hand inside the panties and wrapped it around his erection. While he stroked himself, he thought of all the things he wanted to do to Genevieve, most of them while she knelt at his feet and followed his instructions. She’d suck his dick until he told her to stop. He imagined her mouth wrapped around him while he pumped his hips, and tightened his grip until his cheeks burned and his heart raced.
After she brought him to the edge, he’d turn her around and take her from behind, hard and fast. He groaned his pleasure as he ejaculated into the panties and rolled his head against the back of his leather desk chair.
He waited for his breathing and heartbeat to settle before tossing the panties into the trashcan next to his desk and standing to rearrange his clothing. He closed the frozen image on the screen.
He wouldn’t have to do that again. He’d use the Genevieve substitute next time. Maybe tonight.
This was a very poor substitute for the real thing.