Bite of the Gargoyle: A Standalone Fantasy Romance Novel by H.P. Mallory & J.R. Rain

Author:H.P. Mallory & J.R. Rain [Mallory, H.P. & Rain, J.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rain Press
Published: 2023-01-15T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

My bed isn’t comfortable.

That isn’t the problem. I’m not hungry since Lisette brought me a loaf of bread and slices of cheese. I don’t have a headache, and I’m not congested. There’s nothing that should be keeping me from sleeping and yet...

Nothing except the blinding pain in the wound caused by the water ghoul. The pain is greater when I’m not moving, strangely enough. Thinking I ought to get up and walk around, in hopes it might help, I throw back the covers and swing my legs down onto the floor. I lean down over my knee and unwrap the rag, noticing there’s a bit of brownish seepage and fresh blood right at the center, but it’s nothing alarming.

I slip on the night camisole that one of the humans left for me. It’s pink silk with lace trimmings—the sort of thing a woman wears if she’s expecting company. It’s something I would never wear—much too feminine, dainty, and silly.

I don’t rewrap my wound just yet. I think the chilly night air might do it some good.

It isn’t infected, as far as I can tell, but the alcohol has left it feeling a little raw and a lot sensitive. Once I engage it, even with that first step, I feel the blood circulating a little faster, and the pain eases just a bit. I walk out the door, leaving it open behind me. I don’t want to deal with accidentally locking myself out.

My knee feels a tad better, but the rest of me? Well, that feels torn in two.

On the one hand, I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to deal with Derith. I don’t want a gargoyle or a vampire or whatever the hell he is minding my every move while I try to take down the man who killed my family over a decade ago. I don’t want any of it. Much less do I want the cadre of annoying humans who all look at me as if I’m a statue who’s come to life to eat their families. It’s all too much, but yet another part of me, the one untouched by years of fighting monsters and getting stiffed on payments, the unjaded part, she’s a little grateful for the opportunity to rest.

I can’t remember the last time I slept underneath a roof.

I prefer to sleep under the stars when the weather is right, but the season has started expressing its yearly affinity for freezing rain, and I find myself rather glad to be indoors, cold as the doors themselves may be.

My life is a mess of blood and guts and carnage on most days.

And while it’s nice to have a roof over my head, I don’t feel comfortable. In fact, I feel like a caged animal. This place isn’t where someone like me belongs. I belong in the woods. Alone.

The looming image of Balor suddenly overtakes my mind and I’m flooded with anger again, because I feel like I’m wasting time. I don’t want

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