Gargoyle's Mate (9 page)

“Uugghh, woman, you’re killing me,” he groaned.

Fatima was beyond words; all she wanted to do was give in to the tension curling through her.

“Mine…all mine,” he roared as his climax slammed through him. He pumped into her harder, shooting his seed into the deep recesses of her womb. Her own completion wasn’t far behind, causing her to cry out again while her contractions milked him dry.

***

Fatima’s first conscious thought was she was alone in bed. She eased herself up in bed and realized she was alone period. Her stomach growled in empty protest. She was hungry and thirsty. Wow, they really had work up an appetite. Her eyes widened as she stared unblinkingly at the bedside clock. It was already at 5pm. Lorn probably got tired of waiting for her to rouse and went on a food binge himself. How in god’s name had she slept for so many hours? The time couldn’t be right. She slipped to the edge of Lorn’s bed searching the area for her nightshirt. There was nothing. Well she wasn’t going to risk running down the hall naked when the staff was everywhere. She scanned his room quickly taking in a door-less archway that probably led to a retreat room or something similar.

One thing was for certain, she wouldn’t find anything just sitting in bed. Her scavenger hunt didn’t get off to the best start; when she stood it felt as if all the blood rushed from her head and escaped to parts unknown. She wavered then slouched back on the bed. After a few deep breaths she tried again but frowned at her unsteady stance. What was wrong with her? Determined more than ever she ignored her wobbly legs.

“One of these has got to be a closet,” she muttered aloud going to one of the three doors she spotted. Door number two gave way to a walk-in closet spacious enough to make any woman drool, but Fatima didn’t linger over the spaciousness as she eyed the familiar female clothing hanging on one side of the room.

“Why…?” She thumbed through several items. They were all hers! Everything she’d brought with her from LA was neatly hung or packed away in drawers. She grabbed a spaghetti-strapped sundress, sliding it easily over her naked body.

What was going on? She ran a hand over wild hair. She wouldn’t be able to do much without a comb and brush, but right now getting some answers was more important.

She padded down to the lower level on bare feet, not sure in what direction to go she hoped she didn’t get lost in some area no one would ever to think to look for her.

“Lorn,” she called from the base of the stairs in as loud a voice as she could muster.

“
Madame
, what are you doing out of your bed?” Pierre came scurrying into the hall. She was happy and irritated to see him all at the same time. Where was Lorn?

“First of all, I wasn’t in my bed, but I think you already know as much, Secondly, I would like a word with Mr. De LaRue.”

“Come; let me help you back upstairs.
Monsieur
De LaRue is meeting with members of the Council and cannot be disturbed,” he said hurriedly, trying to guide her back upstairs.

“Members of the Council?” He hadn’t mentioned anything about a meeting.

“Look, if you’re trying to run interference for him, don’t bother. I’ll find him myself.” She whirled around, thinking the library might be a good place to start. She felt light headed and the sudden movement had her grabbing onto the base of the stair railing to regain balance.

“
Madame
, you really need to be in bed,” he repeated.

“Why are you calling me that,” she bit out. The term was designated for married women and she was certain he knew she didn’t have a husband. She closed her eyes against the spinning room. After several seconds she tested everything by opening first one eye then another.

“I’m not going anywhere until I talk to Lorn,” she demanded.

“
Madame
, he is unavailable –“

“It’s okay, Pierre.” A man exited a door from somewhere behind him, all the while regarding Fatima.

She stared back, unable to mask the amazed look on her face. If she didn’t know better she would have sworn Lorn had aged about thirty years, and quite well. Pierre bowed out gracefully but not before he threw a disapproving look in her direction.

“So you are Fatima,” his thickly accented voice greeted.

“Yes.” Her brows furrowed.

“I am Krail De LaRue, Lorn’s father.”

“Sire, I’m certain she is able to put two and two together.” Lorn exited through the same door followed by six other imposing figures.

Good Lord, had the whole De LaRue clan converged on her, and why did they all have to be giants? Very, very handsome giants.

“You should be in our rooms resting,” Lorn, dressed in jeans and a pullover stated as he came to stand beside her.

She looked to the group of silent men, before registering his comment.

“About that,” she began in a whisper meant for his ears only. “Why are my things in your room, just because we… you know… doesn’t mean --”

“See, the woman hasn’t chosen him,” a voice boomed from one of the men.

Chosen? What did he mean by the comment?

She looked at Lorn questioningly only to find stormy green eyes fixed coldly on the man who’d spoken. He stepped part way in front of her, obscuring her from view.

His voice was deceptively calm as he said, “I’ve already confirmed with you all; the choice has been made.” He paused, waiting while each man nodded his acknowledgement, all but the author of the earlier outburst.

“I’ll rejoin you shortly after I see to the comfort of my…Fatima.”

His Fatima?

“Let’s go upstairs.” Lorn turned to her, continuing the calm tone he’d used to address the other men.

“I think I’ve had enough sleep, thank you. What I would like are my things returned to my room,” she hissed for his ears only.

Several of the spectators cleared their throats simultaneously.

There was no way they could have heard her.

“You can either walk back upstairs of your own volition or I can carry you,” he returned just as low.

More throat clearing.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she fumed. Of all the gall!

She didn’t get another warning before Lorn lifted her with little effort and tossed her over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing.

“It was very nice meeting you young lady. I look forward to speaking with you at length, later” Krail added, beaming from ear to ear.

Fatima didn’t see any reason to be happy.

***

It wasn’t exactly the introduction Lorn had in mind, but he wouldn’t let himself worry about what had already been done. He was more concerned with how things would be going forward. When his father had arrived with some other Protectors in tow, he smelled trouble, which was exactly what he got after informing them all there was a Fledgling upstairs in his bed. His announcement was followed by utter silence before the room erupted in accusations.

“You had no right to take her,” Mikhail Ludwick began. “How do we know she would have chosen you if all the Protectors were present?”

“Exactly. As far as we know you could have her bound to your bed,” Alejandro Saldano added.

“When I met her I didn’t know she was a Fledgling. Her mark is not in the traditional spot. I discovered it after we became lovers, which makes it obvious she has chosen me.”

“How can we be certain you didn’t force her decision?” Alexi Dracon questioned quietly from his chair in a corner.

“Because I don’t resort to rape in order to get a woman in my bed. Yes, I have found my mate, but I’m still dedicated to the cause. This should be a day of rejoicing because we now have concrete proof there are Fledglings in the world. We just need to find them.”

Lorn resisted the urge to throw the brooding Protector out of his home. All knew there was no love lost between the two gargoyles.

Each man seemed to digest the meaning of his words before agreeing.

“How do we go about finding them?” Lorn’s father questioned. “In my day the marked women were presented to us in our annual celebrations,” he remembered nostalgically.

“The internet would be a good starting point,” Alejandro suggested.

Most of the men, including Lorn, snorted aloud.

“No, I think Alejandro is on to something. With the number of social networking groups there has to be Fledglings on any number of them. We could also buy ad space.” Jean, Lorn’s younger brother, piped in.

“And say what exactly… Fledglings wanted?” Alexi grunted.

“No, but give me a few days to think on it and I’ll come up with an idea,” Jean offered.

“In the meantime we must first address the issue of Vladimir and secondly allow our brother to return to his new mate. The sooner they can get their coupling out of their systems the sooner they can continue their research,” Mikhail had added jokingly, getting the barest cursory chortle.

None of them had much to laugh about these days and losing another brother to consumption only punctuated the gravity of things. Lorn might have found his mate but until more Fledglings were discovered the rest of them were on borrowed time.

***

As Lorn allowed a seething Fatima to slide to the floor he couldn’t help but think there wouldn’t be much loving going on any time soon.

“You should be in the bed. I instructed Pierre to bring you a tray once you’d awaken.”

“I’m not hungry,” she lied. “What I would like are some answers. First, why are my clothes here and what the hell was the whole Conan the Conqueror thing you just pulled downstairs?”

“Your things are here because this is where you belong, with me every night.” His voice dropped seductively, causing Fatima to take several steps back.

“Well, you should have consulted me first before moving my stuff. Did you ever stop to think I didn’t want your staff to know we’re sleeping together?”

“It’s not their business.”

“Well, it’s mine. What if the university were to hear about this? It could compromise the whole credibility of the research.”

“To hell with the research and the university. I’m not going to sneak around with you like some guilty teenager.”

“You don’t get it.” She bit her bottom lip in agitation. “I want everything put back.”

“No.”

“Fine, if you won’t do it then I will.” She stalked off to the closet.

“Fatima,” he cautioned.

Whatever
! He had no right to make decisions for her, especially choices potentially detrimental to her career. She gasped when he stopped her in her tracks, seeming to speed across the room at an unbelievable velocity to block her.

“How did you do that?” What was going on around here? Maybe something was wrong with her. After all, she’d slept for so long. Had she been ill, was it the reason everyone wanted her in bed?

“I don’t want to argue with you,
ma cherie
, please.” He sighed. “You’re right, I should have talked to you about this first. After last night I was certain you felt the same way I do about us.”

“I do,” she admitted hurriedly. “But to wake up and find all my things here, then Pierre and the whole scene downstairs,” she rambled. “Your father must think you’ve gotten involved with a lunatic. I’m sure I look a fright.”

“You look beautiful,” he reassured, pulling her gingerly into his arms.

“Were those men relatives?”

“Some. Come to bed.”

Feeling suddenly drained, she allowed him to lead her across the room.

“I have to get back to our guests. Promise me you’ll rest? If you need anything call downstairs. Remotes are in the top drawer of the end table. If you want to watch television the screen slides down from the ceiling.”

“Will you be long?” she mumbled as he tucked her into the bed.

“I’ll try not be.”

***

Gordy paced the length of his small living room. “Okay, give it to me again.”

The pert strawberry blonde lounged against the sofa looking bored. She’d thought professors were supposed to be intelligent. Why was he wasting his time going over something she’d spent an hour explaining already, especially when they could be doing much more interesting things? Her stomach growled hungrily. She hadn’t fed since the night before and Gordy looked like a tasty entrée right about now.

She loved the transformation in him since she’d made him her slave. Gone was the sickly pale complexion. In its place was a deep even tan she knew could last year round. His formerly slight frame had filled out in all the right places and provided him with a thin yet athletic build he could never have achieved on his own. Even his blue eyes seemed to have gained an intensity he would’ve otherwise never attained. Yup, he was the best so far. Too bad he wouldn’t be around long enough to enjoy it. They never were.

Her gaze wandered down to the bulge barely hidden by loose fitting sweats. Even his cock had grown something she’d never experienced before in her two thousand years of existence.

“Okay, but this is the last time.” She rolled her eyes skyward, beginning again as if he were a child. “Excluding insects, and your run of the mill animal communities, the world is made up of various creatures of ‘higher intelligence’ both seen and unseen. Mortals or humans make up a large portion of the seen world. Life walkers, succubae like me, weres, elves, gremlins and gargoyles would be the next group, although our numbers are considerably smaller. Then you have the immortals, usually vampires, although there are some beasties I would be insulted to consider as ‘higher’ intelligence’ in the category as well.”

Gordy nodded as if the order of things made sense to him.

“What about the unseen world?” he asked.

She shrugged, “It doesn’t really much matter since they are unseen and prefer to keep anonymous. To maintain a balance, none of the life-walkers or immortals is allowed to propagate their species outside of the natural order of things. If this were to happen… well, I don’t need to tell you how easily the balance could be disrupted.”

“Makes sense.”

“I know for a fact the gargoyles are looking at genetically altering human females to breed with in order to ensure their species dominate.” The lie slipped easily from her pout lips.

“And you think it’s why this Lorn De LaRue fellow, who you say is a gargoyle, wants Fatima, to use her as guinea pig?” Gordy stopped his pacing, rounding on the enticing woman.

“Possibly, but more importantly he needs her expertise as a cellular biologist.”

“Well, he’s barking up the wrong tree there. She’s not that type of scientist.”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” she disagreed, reaching for her oversized bag lying discarded on the floor. Pulling out the thick file she handed it over. “It seems your little girlfriend has been keeping secrets,” she remarked snidely as he perused the file. It had taken a lot for her to get the information, agreeing to some very unsavory things with an awfully pungent gremlin, but it was worth it, especially if it meant convincing Professor Gullible to go along with her plans.

“This can’t be,” he croaked.

“Fraid so. Your little anthropologist is a lot more than she appears.”