Jasper
Authors: Faith Gibson
Jasper
Stone Society Book 6
By Faith Gibson
All
rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the
scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without
the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s
intellectual property. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
This
book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the
product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance
to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
The
author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners
of the wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction.
Copyright © 2016 by Faith Gibson
Published by Faith Gibson
Editor: Jagged Rose Wordsmithing
First edition: February 2016
Cover design: Simply Defined Art
Photography:
Furious Fotog
Model:
Caylan Hughes
Stock
photo: 123RF
ISBN:
978-0-996366441
This
book is intended for mature audiences only.
Dedication
To my son, “the boy”. I knew you
were “different” when you were very young, and I couldn’t have cared less or
loved you more. I am so proud of the man you’ve become.
Acknowledgements
My writing posse: Alex, Kendall,
Jen, and Nikki – thank you for taking the most important book I’ve ever written
and giving it that little something extra.
My beta readers: Sharon B, Theresa
M, Shannon P, Candy R, Tanya R, and Lita T, your input is always invaluable
Golden Czermak, from a brief conversation,
you made my dream cover come true. You are truly golden.
Caylan Hughes, thank you for being my Jasper.
No one else would have done.
Last, but definitely not least, the man for
being my best friend and always having my back.
Table of Contents
Northern Ireland
1594
The
once lush green land was now colored red. Bodies were strewn haphazardly,
unmoving from where they’d been slain. Phelam O’Donnell wiped his claymore on
the tunic of a fallen Englishman before sliding it home in the sheath at his
hip. “Phelam,” a deep voice sounded from behind him. He turned to find the
Chieftain’s second in command walking toward him.
“Aye,
Bran,” he responded.
“The
O’Donnell wishes a word with ya.”
“Aye,”
Phelam said a second time. He followed his older brother to their father’s tent.
When he entered, he inclined his head in respect to the man who was both his
father and leader.
“Athair,
ya wish to see me?” Phelam stood at attention until his father waved his hand.
“Phelam,
my boy, ya did well today. Ya do well every day. ‘Tis why I have a mission for
ya. The O’Neill is calling for our help, but I keen even with the likes of ya
fighting for his cause, it won’t be enough. We might have won the battle this
day, but a new day is dawning. The cannons we have secured are beyond our
experience. I need ya to infiltrate the enemy and find out all ya can.”
Even
though the O’Donnell wasn’t Phelam’s biological father, he had treated him
fairly ever since Phelam’s own father sold him to the man standing before him. Phelam
would do anything Seamus asked of him. He and the O’Donnell both knew the
English had more weapons and soldiers than did the clans of their land. Still,
he would set out and gain any knowledge he could. “I’ll leave right away,” he
said, inclining his head before taking his leave.
Phelam
returned to the battlefield in search of the largest fallen enemy he could
find. Once he found someone comparable to his own size, he swapped out his
clothing with that of the other man. It was a tight fit, but it would have to
do. He seized the weapons and wrapped the holster around his waist. He strapped
his sword across his shoulder and took off through the forest toward the enemy
camp.
As
he walked, Phelam’s thoughts drifted back to when his athair, Colm O’Hearn,
sold him to the O’Donnell. He was fourteen years old and just coming into his
body. Being the youngest male in their family, Phelam had watched his older
brothers with a bit of envy, ready for the day when he would transform into the
Gargoyle instead of the scrawny boy. He did his best to emulate them in most every
way. When it came to bedding lasses, he had no interest. What did interest him
was the lad from the neighboring land they shared a loch with. He was also a
Gargoyle who had yet to transition for the first time. Phelam couldn’t help the
way his body reacted when he saw the lad shed his clothes.
One
day, Phelam arrived at the loch just as the lad was walking into the water. His
cock sprang to life at the sight of all that pale skin. Instead of waiting for
the throbbing to subside, Phelam hid behind a tree and stroked his length while
watching the lad swim. Twigs and leaves crunched behind him as the lad’s
brother walked up behind Phelam. When the brother saw the object of Phelam’s
desire, he grabbed Phelam by the collar and dragged him to his athair’s home.
His athair who happened to be King of their Clan.
Phelam
was thrown into a dark room until his own athair arrived. The King demanded Phelam
be executed for such a disgraceful action toward his youngest son. Colm
promised he would take care of it and hauled Phelam from the King’s home. Phelam
was lucky in that his athair was a greedy man. Killing Phelam would lose him
not only a worker on his lands, but also a warrior in later years. Instead of
his neck meeting with a sword, Phelam found himself at the feet of an Irish
military man. Seamus O’Donnell not only took in the lad, but trained him alongside
his other sons to be a great fighter. He taught him to read and write, as well
as speak the language of the Scots.
To
that day, the O’Donnell had no idea he adopted a Gargoyle. To that day, Phelam
had not looked upon another male body with lust in his eyes. The Gargoyles were
destined to have only one mate, and Phelam resigned himself to the fact he
would never have his. The only thing he would have was his fighting.
Using
his shifter abilities, Phelam was able to get close to the enemy without being
seen or heard. Even wearing the enemy’s clothing, it would be near impossible
to blend in with the Englishmen what with his bright red hair and Irish brogue.
So, he opted to blend into the forest, watching and listening from a distance.
Once
he felt he had the necessary information to help his clan, Phelam returned to
camp and relayed everything he’d learned. By that time, the O’Neill had
combined their forces, but it still wasn’t enough. Phelam watched as most of
his family was cut down in battle. The O’Neill surrendered, but not before
Phelam had no one left to call his clan.
Being
a Gargoyle, he couldn’t be killed unless another of his kind took his head.
Granted, there were a couple of poisons that could take down a shifter, but
that knowledge was known only by his kind. Under the cover of night, Phelam
slipped away from his homeland and began a journey that would start a new
chapter in his very long life.
Present Day
2047
Eight
large Gargoyles grabbed their swords and faced off. Jasper paired up with
Urijah. Sword training should be a balm to his spirit, but it brought back
painful memories of his past. Jasper’s mind drifted back to those days in
Ireland where he was fighting for
his people
. The longer they sparred,
the more lost in the past he became. Jasper was not practicing with Uri; he was
on the battlefield, swift and fierce. His movements were graceful yet deadly.
The striking of metal on metal powered his body; the blood spilling at his feet
fueled his beast. He was lost in the memory until someone yelling his name
brought him back to the present. The battlefield faded, and Dante’s property
came into focus. When Jasper dropped his sword to his side, his chest was
heaving. Seven pairs of eyes were locked on him. Uri’s held a look of
amusement. “Someone’s been holding out on us.”
Jasper
wasn’t ready to share his past with his fellow Goyles, even if they accepted
him for who he was. “I might have seen battle once or twice,” was all the
explanation he gave.
Uri
clapped him on the shoulder and said, “I’d say you have. That was impressive.”
The
others were making their way to put away their swords when Connor called out to
Dante, “Da, you should answer your phone.”
Dante
handed his sword to Dane and jogged toward the house. Jasper helped Uri stow
the swords in Dante’s garage before grabbing a bottle of water. As he was
pulling his shirt back on, a chill ran up his spine. If he didn’t know better,
he’d say Trevor was close by. He was walking up the steps to the deck when
Deacon stuck his head out the back door. “Jas, you better get in here.”
Jasper
entered the living room, and Deacon explained what was happening. “Trevor
called Dante, says he’s being followed. He’s coming down the driveway now.”
Jasper
ran out the front door and down the steps. He didn’t care if the others were watching.
Trevor was already out of his car and talking to Dante. Jasper asked his mate,
“Were you followed?” Without giving him time to answer, he pulled Trevor to
him, hugging him close. Gods, it felt like heaven having his mate in his arms.
When Trevor didn’t answer, Jasper backed off and gently grasped his face,
looking him over.
“I
think so. There was a black SUV that got behind me once I was on this road,”
Trevor finally answered, only he was looking at Dante as he spoke.
“Jasper,
why don’t you check it out?” Dante suggested.
Jasper
started to object, not wanting to be away from Trevor. Dante cocked an eyebrow,
indicating Jasper should go have a look. Jasper didn’t argue; instead, he took
off running down the driveway, trusting Dante’s sixth sense that he should be
the one to go investigate.
When
he knew Trevor couldn’t see him, Jasper kicked into his shifter’s speed. As he
neared the gate, he slipped off into the woods so he could observe the stranger
without being seen himself. A black SUV was idling at the edge of the driveway,
his window down. Seeing his ex-lover Craig a few weeks ago had been like a
paper cut, shallow and annoying. Seeing the male sitting in the vehicle was
like a knife cutting through Jasper’s core, ripping him from one end to the
other. Before he could approach, the SUV drove off. Jasper took a few minutes
to control his beast. It wouldn’t do to have Trevor see him fully phased and
pissed. He walked back to the house, not allowing his mind to return to the
past. When he was inside the house, Jasper took a long look at Trevor before turning
to Dante.
Dante
asked, “Did you see who it was?”
Jasper
nodded, “It was Theron.”
“Who’s
Theron?” Deacon asked.
“Alistair’s
son,” Dante responded. “Matthew, will you please occupy Connor with a video
game? He has a new system, and I’m afraid I’m not very good at it.” Dante
motioned for the others to return outside. Jasper wanted to hold onto Trevor,
but he couldn’t. Not now. When they were outside, Dante asked, “Why is Theron
following Trevor?”
Trevor
was glad they went outside. He had been right when he told Jasper he was in a
league of badasses. The testosterone in Dante’s living room proved it. He stepped
closer to Dante, away from Jasper. The photos of Jasper with his old lover were
still fresh in his mind. He had gone out of town to get away from the gorgeous
redhead. Now, Trevor was back, and Jasper looked like he’d seen a ghost. He
shoved his hands in his pockets but kept his eyes on Jasper’s face. He was
waiting for Jasper to admit he and this Theron were lovers. Why else would a
stranger be following Trevor all across Georgia?
“A
very long time ago, my path crossed with Theron’s,” Jasper said to the men
standing around. They obviously knew who Theron and Alistair were. Trevor,
however, didn’t have a clue.
“Crossed
paths how?” one of the badasses asked.
Jasper
didn’t immediately answer. He cut his eyes to Trevor, but that was all the
indication he needed to know Jasper and Theron had a past together.
“That’s
all right, Jasper. You can tell them,” Trevor said. “Please excuse me.” Trevor
didn’t wait on anyone to give him permission to leave the conversation. He
entered the house and stopped when he got to the living area. The small boy
Dante called Connor said, “First room on the left down the hallway.”
Okay,
that was weird. He found the room he was looking for and went in, closing the
door behind him. Trevor closed the toilet lid and sat down, elbows to his
knees, head in his hands. He probably should have stayed outside and listened
to Jasper’s explanation, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want
to think about Jasper with anyone else, especially another one of the badass
bunch. Seeing him with Craig had been enough to convince him that he and Jasper
didn’t belong together. Trevor knew he wasn’t much to look at. He’d had one
failed attempt at a relationship. If he couldn’t make it work with someone more
like him, how did he ever think he could be with someone like Jasper?
After
a while, Trevor heard voices in the living room. He knew he was acting like a
child hiding out in Dante’s bathroom, but he couldn’t handle being around
Jasper. There was a knock on the door, and Dante said, “He’s gone. You can come
out.”
Trevor
rose and took a deep breath. He blew it out and opened the door, fully
expecting Dante to be in the hall. Instead, his boss’s voice came from the
living room. He was chatting with Connor about the video game. Connor stood
from the couch and motioned for Dante to lean down. When he did, Connor placed
their foreheads together. When the child pulled away, Dante ruffled his hair,
and Connor walked toward Trevor. He stopped in front of him and did some weird
thing where he placed his fist on his chest and bowed his head. And Trevor
thought himself strange.
Dante
said, “I think it’s time you and I had a chat. Would you like something to
drink?”
Trevor
did indeed need a drink, but he wasn’t going to get sloshed and make a fool of
himself. “I’m good, thanks.”
Dante
sat in the arm chair and waited for Trevor to have a seat. “First off, I want
you to know we will protect you from Theron.”
“We,
as in the league of badasses?” Trevor laughed, but he wasn’t joking.
“We
are not a league, but a clan. What I’m about to tell you is going to be hard to
believe at first, but once I finish, I hope you will forgive me for keeping the
truth from you for so long. The men who were here earlier are part of my Clan,
the Stone Society. The warden is my brother. Rafael Stone, the architect, is
also our brother, along with Sinclair who lives on the West Coast. We have many
cousins as well as clan members we also call brother. We are primordial beings
put here to protect humans from not only monsters such as the Unholy, but from
each other. I think it will be easier for me to show you what I am, rather than
telling you.”
Dante
moved to the middle of the room and removed his shirt. Trevor held his breath
as Dante’s top canines lengthened over his bottom lip. When he held his hands
out, his fingernails became talon-like extensions. Trevor didn’t have time to
grasp what he was seeing as a pair of wings unfurled from behind his boss.
Dante didn’t give Trevor time to examine the wings. He retracted them just as
quickly as he turned them loose. Trevor needed to see them again to be sure he
had really seen a pair of leathery looking wings.
Holy fuck!
Dante replaced
his shirt before sitting back down. “That is the extent of our shifting, or
what we call phasing. I come from a long line of Gargouille, or as the modern
generation would have it, Gargoyle.” Dante cocked his head to the side and
smiled. “Isabelle is home.”
Trevor
didn’t hear anything, but if Dante said she was home, he believed his boss. His
mind was still back on show and tell.
“There
is so much more I need to tell you, but I want to introduce you to my mate
first.” Dante stood, and opened the side door. A very pretty woman came in and
wrapped her arms around Dante’s neck. When they started kissing, Trevor looked
away. “Isabelle, I’d like you to meet Trevor.”
“Trevor,
it’s a pleasure. I’ve heard so much about you,” Isabelle said softly.
“And
I didn’t know you existed before today,” he responded. “Sorry, I guess that was
rude.”
“The
truth is never rude, Trevor. I take it you’re having the talk?” she asked
Dante.
“Yes,
I haven’t told him much, but I did phase. Trevor didn’t pass out, so I think
the hard part has passed,” Dante said with a wink. Dante winked? That was so
out of character for the medical examiner. So was the smile plastered to his
face.
Trevor
asked Isabelle, “So, you’re okay with a mate who has fangs and claws?”
She
grinned, releasing her own special canines. “I sure am.”
“Huh.”
Now, he was at a loss for words.
Dante
and Isabelle laughed. They weren’t laughing at him, just at his reaction to her
fangs. “Trevor, are you hungry?”
“No,
thank you.” He was starving, but if he ate, he would probably throw up. Isabelle
excused herself to check on Connor, and Dante sat back down.
Trevor
remained standing for the moment. “How long have you and Isabelle been dating?
Do Gargoyles date?”
Dante
shrugged. “It’s complicated. Gargoyles have one mate for life. Until we find
that mate, we might date others, but there is rarely a relationship. If there
is, it has far less meaning than the permanent one we have with the one the
fates choose for us. I figured out Isabelle was my mate while we were working
together on a case at the Pen.”
“That’s
why Jasper called Tessa the warden’s mate. Do all the mates have fangs and
wings, too? Does Tessa?”
“Only
if the mates are part Gargoyle. Females do not have wings, but they do have
fangs and claws. Until recently, all female mates were also Goyles. Most
females of our kind are mated. The unmated ones are all but extinct now. Since
that’s the case, the fates decided we could mate with humans. Tessa and
Isabelle are half Gargoyle, so they do phase.”
“Are
the Unholy Gargoyles, too?”
Isabelle
came back into the room and sat down on the sofa. She explained how the Unholy
came into being. The world knew Gordon Flanagan was responsible for creating
the army of monsters who looked like something out of a bad mutant movie. What
they didn’t know was the blood he used to create the creatures came from one of
Isabelle’s half-blood brothers, Gabriel. The man was now known as Vincent
Alexander, and he was sitting in the New Atlanta Penitentiary for murder. When
he was used in a lab experiment gone wrong, he lost his humanity. Gordon lost
his
humanity when the baby daughter he thought was his disappeared shortly after
being cloned by Jonas Montague, the man single-handedly responsible for the
near apocalypse. Trevor, a clone himself, realized there was so much more to
the world than most people were aware of.
When
Isabelle paused, Dante said, “Remember the night at the morgue when Jasper and
I came in all bloody? We had been out fighting Unholy. They are our biggest
challenge most of the time. Right now, though, it seems our Uncle Alistair is
out for our blood. Or that of our mates.” Dante explained how Jonas Montague
was really a Gargoyle, and this Alistair had him thrown out of the clan for
mating with a human. Not only that, but Jonas was Isabelle’s father. Dane
Abbott was Isabelle’s brother, one of many, and Tessa was Jonas’s great niece.
Trevor was going to have to start a spreadsheet to keep everyone straight.
