What’s on the tables, you ask? No idea. I do not recognize even a single item of tech on the tables. I don’t know what the beakers are cooking, and I couldn’t tell you what that smell is. It’s all just science stuff and aliens.
Oh hey, I found aliens. So it’s not that I’m having a psychotic break, that’s nice to know.
The alien looks exactly like Walker with his furry pants and horns, except that he’s gray skinned, has wings, and the facial features are more pronounced, like...
Like the statues on the roof I saw earlier, except this Walker is definitely moving around and not made of stone.
He’s a gargoyle... and now the name of the mansion makes so much more sense. Chez Gargouille. I’m... I’m working for aliens. That’s, uh, something.
“So are you—”
Walker startles and flings what’s in his hand in a hundred different directions, jumps backwards and runs into the table behind him, knocking over the beakers on it, and making a huge mess that waits about three seconds before exploding with a deafening bang and igniting his pants on fire. He immediately strips out of them and throws them across the room to a shower space that vaporizes them into nothing, leaving him naked with nothing to wear.
I glimpse a dick worthy of being memorialized in art before jerking my gaze up to his wide eyes as he stares at me.
“How the fuck did you get down here?” he asks, more shocked than angry.
I point to the little statue on the table with its wings spread as if to say, “Tada!”
Walker’s wide eyes slide to the statue and narrow. “You little gremlin. You know the staff are not supposed to be down here.”
My eyes slip back to his dick, but I force them up again. “So, are you all aliens, or are gargoyles, um, native to this planet?”
Walker’s gaze returns to me. “You can see me.”
I tilt my head to the side and raise my hands as I give him my best are-you-joking look. “Obviously. It’s hard not to see you. Do you want me to go get you some pants? That would be well within my job description.”
Walker glances down at himself and shrugs. “I only wear pants because it’s necessary around humans. How can you see me? Well no, more like, what are you if you’re not human?”
He looks me over, head to toe.
“I’m fairly certain I’m human. Have been all my life.” Self-doubt makes me wonder if maybe I am actually going through a psychotic break and this is just my mind playing a game with me. At least it’s interesting this time; hard to tell reality from fiction with this twist.
“No, if you were human you wouldn’t be able to see the chrylich moving, and you certainly wouldn’t be able to see my wings. Humans can’t see magic, and I am, at the core of me, magical. Most species are. Humans are the only species in the known universe and all its realms that have evolved to be fully blind to magic. If you can see me, you’re not fully human.” He gives me another once over, but this time it’s for more assessing. “Probably rabbit shifter. You got the ass and hips of a rabbit shifter and those huge feet. It would explain why you can see magic. I assume you can’t shift, otherwise this conversation wouldn’t be all that surprising.”
“My brain is gaslighting me. I didn’t even know I could do that to myself. This is super fun.” I should probably see if that health insurance I have now is any good. Mental health support is super important.
The elevator behind me dings, and I turn, catching Thoren in nothing but that beautiful loincloth ducking out of the elevator because he’s too tall for it with the horns on his head. That’s right. Horns. And wings, obviously. He looks exactly like the statue on the roof did earlier except his skin is velvety and not made of stone. Holy shit, he’s hot. Like the tingle in my dick is not at all subtle.
“What are you doing down here?” he demands, then looks at Walker. “Why the fuck are you naked with Dec? You know the staff aren’t allowed down here.”
“I didn’t make me naked, he did!” Walker defends himself, pointing at me like I’m the one who took his pants off.
The tingle disappears so fast, I bet it could win a Formula 1 race. “No. You took them off all on your own. You threw them over there and they were vaporized. I am not taking responsibility for nudity. That isnotin my job description.” I’m a lot of things, but a doormat is not one of them. “And don’t even start blaming me for following a moving statue through the house to the basement. I don’t even have the access code to this elevator. One cannot be blamed for following a statue that keeps disappearing and reappearing.”
Thoren scowls at the little statue. “They’re gargoyles, just a different species than us, and they’re alive, not statues. They’re only statues when you perceive them because you’re mostly human. The rest of us can see their substance when they’re active.”
“Is this that whole humans-can’t-see-magic thing again?” I suspect again that I may not be having the psychotic break I thought I was having.
Thoren confirms this with a low grunt. “Gargoyles are the standard for perception to be included in the intergalactic senate. No species who can’t perceive their active form is allowed a seat in the senate.”
I should probably wait to freak out until I’m alone, right? Freak outs about aliens and intergalactic senates are alone-time things, right? Right. Ok. Freak out later, for now extricate myself from the situation that my foolish curiosity and stubbornness have gotten me in. Yep, extrication. And maybe stop staring at the hot alien.
“I’m, uh, going to just, ah, go.” I get that stupid sentence out as I back up toward the elevator. On the plus side I don’t have to input a code to call it since getting out of here isn’t the problem. I press the button and the elevator immediately dings.
Thoren stomps in after me, but he doesn’t say anything as the doors to the elevator close us into the small space together.
I look up at his enormity—he’s bigger in this form than in his human form—and my mouth decides that my thoughts should not be kept private. “Nice horns. The loincloth makes sense with the wings. You’re furry, so that’s something. Holy shit, I need to be quiet.” I clap my hand over my runaway mouth.
