Chapter 9
Nine
Georgie
The terror on his face made my blood run cold. He hissed at his hand, a sound so full of desperation that I reached out and put a hand on his thigh. I would have wrapped my arm around his shoulders, but the wings were in the way and he was too tall.
“What's wrong?” I asked, but I could see the change in his skin myself. His hand was still the same colour, but while the texture of his skin was that of polished granite, his thumb now looked like dark sandstone. Just like when I'd first seen him on that castle wall.
He was turning back to stone.
“Why? Why now?”
He didn't answer.
“But I'm next to you. Touching you. You said being close to you would stop it from happening again.”
He slowly looked at me. His eyes were deep vortexes of sadness and resignation. He was giving up.
“No,” I snapped. “I didn't have you almost drop me twice and play question-answer games with you to turn back into a statue. I won't allow it. Tell me what to do.”
Cairn looked back at his finger again. “I do not know. I thought I knew. I thought...” His voice shook. “What if this was it? A short reprieve, just enough to raise my hopes but not long enough to achieve anything?”
I gently took his hand in mine. I ran my fingers over his thumb, desperately hoping that my touch would make the stone go away. But it didn't. I could almost watch it spread. His index finger was becoming harder already.
“Shall I call Pam? Maybe she knows. Or the aliens she works with.”
“No. Only another gharrgoil might know, and by the time she got a reply from the IA, it might be too late. I'd rather spend my remaining time with you.”
“That makes it sound like you're dying,” I whispered.
“I would rather take death than spend another rotation as a statue.” His voice was cold now. “I should fly and perch at the very edge of a roof, so that when petrification takes me, I fall and shatter into a million pieces. Death at last.”
The room suddenly felt darker. When had the sun set? I hadn't noticed, too engrossed in our conversation.
“Please don't say that. There is always hope.”
He laughed harshly. “Is there? I don't see it. I had hope, a tiny fraction of it, when our ship crashed. But what did survival get me? Pain and more pain. My friends dead. No chance of ever returning home. And my mate having to witness me turn to stone. Hope has long vanished, Georgie.”
I kept stroking his hand. On an impulse, I lifted it to my mouth, kissed his thumb. It was already turning cold. My lips brushed the stone, but nothing happened. No miraculous cure.
“Will you make me one last cup of hot chocolate?” Cairn asked. “If this is to be the last thing I ever drink or eat, I would like it to be something you made for me.”
My eyes burned. Don't cry. Not now. He needed me to be strong.
I hurried over to the kitchen area and started making his cocoa.
I kept looking over my shoulder, just to make sure he was still there, still moving.
It seemed a waste of time to do this now, when I could have spent it next to him, touching him, trying to find a solution.
But he had asked for this one simple thing and I wasn't going to deny him that last wish.
Had we been laughing just ten minutes ago?
I struggled to understand what was happening.
And why I felt so upset about it, as if my best friend was dying, not a man who I'd met only this morning and an alien at that.
Of course I had empathy for anyone who was in pain or unwell, but this went far beyond it.
I was grieving the time we'd never have.
The conversations we never got to share.
And even the flights he wouldn't be able to take me on.
I was falling for him. Hard.
And now it was too late.
“Georgie,” he said weakly. I turned and swallowed hard. His entire left arm was now stone.
“I've got your hot chocolate.”
He forced a smile. “Thank you. I might not have long enough to drink it all. The petrification is getting faster. I can feel it inside me. My organs are starting to turn to stone.”
“Think, Cairn! There has to be something. Anything. Don't just give in. Fight it!”
“I should leave your dwelling. You don't want a stone statue taking up most of the space of your sofa. And I don't want to have to sit here and watch you live your life. Without me. I should fly away.”
“No. Stop. Think.”
Tears ran down my face. I didn't care. I handed him the mug and he took it in his right hand. The tips of his fingers here were already turning to stone. His left was in his lap, frozen and useless.
He took a deep breath. “There is something, but it may just be a story. A legend of old, passed on over generations and changed over time.”
“Tell me.”
“Gharrgoils did not evolve on Spiris. It is said our ancestors came to our planet because their original home got destroyed. At first, they had trouble adjusting to Spiris' air, until one chief accidentally pierced his mate's lips with his fangs. Her blood instantly cured him.”
“Her blood. You want to drink my blood? Like a vampire?”
“I don't know what that is. And it's probably just a story. Gharrgoils don't drink blood. We use our fangs in battle to rip out the throat of our enemies. I shouldn't have wasted our time with this old tale.”
He hung his head and stared at the mug of hot chocolate. His hand had frozen around it, stone against porcelain. He'd never get to drink it now.
I had to help.
I ran over to the kitchen and grabbed the first sharp knife I could find. I pricked the tip of my finger until a drop of blood gathered on my skin.
“What are you doing?” Cairn asked. His voice was so weak now.
I rushed to him. For a moment, I debated where to smear the blood, then decided on the left thumb that it had all started with.
I turned my hand and let the blood drop onto his stone skin.
It should have pearled off, run down to his palm, but instead, it disappeared into the skin, leaving no trace on the surface.
“Did you see that?”
“Yes,” Cairn croaked. “And I felt it. Something happened.”
“Can you move your thumb?”
The strain was visible on his face. “No. I'm sorry. It didn't work.”
“Maybe it wasn't enough.” I gripped the knife tighter, readying myself to cut deeper. But what had he said? The chief had pierced his mate's lips with his fangs. That meant the blood had ended up in his mouth. Maybe my vampire-theory wasn't so outlandish.
I squeezed my finger until another drop of blood appeared on my skin. I held it to Cairn's lips.
“Lick it.”
“Are you sure?”
Even now, he was still trying to protect me.
“Do it. Now. Before it's too late.”
His lips gently closed around my finger. His tongue swept across my skin. It was rougher than what it should have been, like that of a cat. Normal for a gharrgoil or a sign of petrification?
He groaned softly. His tongue swirled around my finger, searching for more. Fangs pressed against the inside of my finger. That was going to hurt. This was the wrong place for it. I'd read enough vampire novels to know that.
“Wait. Bite my wrist.”
I pulled my hand back and positioned my arm at his lips.
His eyes met mine. He searched for my permission.
I gave it gladly.
He never stopped looking at me as his fangs pierced the delicate skin on my wrist. I gasped as a sharp pain shot up my arm. I bit my lip to stop myself from making a sound. I didn't want him to stop. He needed this.
The first suck made all pain disappear. A strange warmth erupted from my wrist, spreading through my body in an instant. It curled deep inside my stomach like a happy, purring cat, before the warmth reached places that should have been very, very unaffected by an alien gargoyle biting me.
His tongue dragged over the bite. Rough, hot, followed by another pull of his mouth that made my knees weaken.
Cairn groaned against my skin. I clearly wasn't the only one feeling the heady effect of the bite. Part of me wanted to grind against him. I pressed my thighs together. That only made it worse.
He pulled me onto his lap. I opened my eyes just long enough to see that his hands had returned to normal, then closed them again and gave in to the sensation of absolute bliss.
A low sound escaped me.
Cairn released my wrist immediately. His fangs slipped from my skin, leaving two small wounds surrounded by smears of red.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No.”
His eyes had changed. The black had expanded until almost nothing remained of the grey around it. His wings were spread behind him, taking up most of the sofa, and his tail had wrapped itself around the nearest table leg.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.
I should have said yes. The stone was already disappearing from his arm. He could move his fingers again. The immediate danger had passed.
Instead, I held my wrist closer to his mouth.
“No. Keep going.”
His eyes closed as his lips returned to my skin.
This time I was prepared for the sting of his fangs. I wasn't prepared for his tongue. It moved over the wounds between each pull, catching every drop. The strange heat inside me grew until my nipples tightened beneath my shirt and wetness spread between my legs.
Could he tell what this was doing to me?
His nostrils flared.
Of course he could. Alien senses. Wonderful.
Cairn drank once more, then forced himself away. He cradled me in his arms, pulling me close against his chest. He was hard there, harder than muscle, but still soft enough that I wouldn't get bruises from hugging him.
“It worked,” I muttered, feeling strangely satisfied.
“Yes.” His voice was deeper than before, rough enough to make the tiny hairs on my arms stand up.
“Are you still turning to stone?”
He looked down at his left hand and slowly curled it into a fist. “No.”
Relief should have been the only thing I felt. Instead, I wanted more.
Cairn ran his tongue across his lower lip, collecting a streak of my blood. His fangs were still exposed. His attention dropped to my wrist before travelling up my arm.
“Your scent has changed,” he said.
“Finish that sentence and I'll reconsider saving you next time.”
His lips curved into a grin. “I was going to say that you smell healthy.”
“Liar.”
One of his wings curled around us, blocking the rest of the room from view.
Cairn gently stroked my wrist. The puncture marks were already fading. I’d have to ask him how that was possible. Later.
Right now, I wanted him to bite me again. Saving his life had very little to do with it.