Authors: Randi Cooley Wilson
Tags: #paranormal romance, #young adult, #college, #fantasy romance, #fae, #gargoyle, #shifter, #dark romance, #new adult
“Family dinner in an hour,” he says, kissing
my temple and standing.
“Okay,” I draw out.
“Don’t be late, cutie, because you don’t
want to miss out on Gage peeling potatoes.” He wiggles his eyebrows
at me.
I laugh. “I thought that was Keegan’s
punishment?”
The adorable protector shrugs. “It’s good to
shake things up a bit. Plus, Gage ate all the cookies I baked this
afternoon. All. The. Cookies. He must be reprimanded
accordingly.”
I smile and shake my head at his silliness.
“That. I have to see.”
“It’s not to be missed,” he throws over his
shoulder as he walks toward the house.
***
Callan was right. This is the best scene
ever. Even Keegan is sitting on a stool, watching, amusement
evident on his face.
Gage has on one of Callan’s aprons. It reads
Can I Check to See If My Hot Dog Fits Your Bun
. The visual
has sent me into a laughing fit twice. He’s standing at the sink
next to piles, and I mean piles, of potatoes. There has to be at
least a thousand of the little brown spuds mounded up.
Gage looks over his shoulder at me, an unlit
cigarette hanging. He looks miserable.
“Glad you’re finding this humorous, love.”
He groans as the nicotine stick bounces.
“I am. I truly, truly am,” I say and
continue to help a giggling Abby with the salad.
“Shut up and peel, traitor,” McKenna spits
out, which just makes it even funnier.
Callan approaches Abby from behind. “Do you
really need that many potatoes, baby?”
“My girl might want hash browns in the
morning,” he says with a light tone then drops a peck on her lips
and squeezes her butt.
Their cuteness factor really is getting
gross.
“This sucks,” Gage throws out after only
peeling five of the earthy vegetables.
I decide to walk over and give him a pep
talk. “Nice apron.”
His eyebrows lift as he leans in
conspiratorially. “Callan said the ladies love the aprons. Is that
true?”
I have to bite my bottom lip to prevent
another laugh from releasing. “It certainly makes you look like
something special, gargoyle. What that is? I’ll need to give it
some thought.”
Gage tosses the peeler. “I need a
cigarette,” he grumbles as he walks out the French doors onto the
patio while the laughter follows him into the evening air.
***
“Babe, dinner was so good,” Abby says,
squeezing Callan’s hand with pride.
The small gesture hits me hard.
Crap. No
matter how angry I am, I miss Asher.
I excuse myself, and
retreat to the peaceful solitude of the library. I spread out my
labs, which I need to work on if I’m going to pass my classes this
semester. It feels good to focus on college for a bit, normal.
After a few hours, I’m spent and just finishing when Gage walks
in.
“Hey.”
“Need any help, love?” he questions and
points to the clutter of papers.
I just stare at him. “You know, I don’t even
know if you’ve been to college or not. It just dawned on me that
other than Camilla, I really don’t know anything about you.”
Gage sits down on the floor and pauses for a
moment. His thigh brushes mine while he runs his thumb over his
lower lip in thought.
A sexy, panty-dropping smirk crosses his
mouth. “My favorite color is black. I have a thing for fast cars,
in black. And I love coffee…black.”
I roll my eyes, which causes him to laugh
lightly.
Dear God, he should do that all day, every day.
“I enjoy listening to
Arctic Monkeys
and
Metallica
. If I could be any animal in the world, I’d be
a lion like my clan mark,” he announces.
“And school?” I push.
“I graduated from the École des
Beaux-Artsin, the most prestigious art school in Paris.”
My eyes go wide. “Holy shit Gage. That’s
impressive.”
He returns my response with an empty smile,
void of all emotion. The wall’s back.
“I know the guys own Katana and other
businesses. What about you?” I ask, wanting to know more about him.
“Do you work or anything?”
“I own architectural firms and several art
studios,” he says absentmindedly.
My eyes hold his. “Really?”
“I was assigned to Camilla as her protector
when she attended art school.” His eyes flick out the windows in a
far off gaze. “It’s why I also attended. She was enrolled in the
Academy of Painting and Sculpture and I was registered in the
Academy of Architecture. It was there that I first met Professor
Henry Davidson. He was working toward his doctoral at the time.
After we graduated, there weren’t a lot of studios that would show
sculpture carvings from a recent graduate, even one from a school
as prominent as the École des Beaux-Artsin. My father was very well
off and I had a sizeable inheritance, so I took some of it,
designed and opened a studio in Spain,
Mi Alma
. It
specialized in three-dimensional art so Camilla would have a place
to display and sell her work. She was particularly fond of
sculpting gargoyles.” He smiles at a memory, but it doesn’t match
the lost expression etched in every line of his perfect face.
“I think that has to be the most romantic
thing I have ever heard,” I say honestly.
He inhales harshly. “When my father noticed
the money had been removed from my account, he investigated,
learning that I had not only fallen in love but also secretly mated
with Camilla, breaking my protector oath. The rest, as they say, is
history.” He swallows hard, fighting off the shadows.
“What does Mi Alma mean?” I ask with a
gentle voice.
Sea green eyes catch mine in a fleeting
moment of sentiment. “My soul.”
My heart breaks. “I’m so sorry, Gage.”
“As I said before, love, don’t be. She’s
dead,” he bristles and puts his mask back. “I was the one who
actually designed and built Katana.”
“Really?” I say surprised. “Asher never
mentioned it.”
The right side of his mouth tilts. “No. I
imagine he didn’t, love.”
We’re silent for a while. Lost in our own
memories and emotional turmoil.
“I’m scared,” I admit in a low whisper.
“That Asher won’t come back. And if he does, that what I feel isn’t
real. I’m even more terrified that he doesn’t feel the same,” I
admit, barely audible.
“He loves you,” Gage says with firmness.
I hold his eyes. “How can you be sure?”
“I know,” he states, reaching out and wiping
away a lone tear that has fallen on my cheek.
“Eve? Oh, sorry. I thought you were
studying?” Abby’s voice floats into the room as she makes her way
to stand in front of us, narrowing her eyes at Gage’s hand on my
cheek.
I plaster on a fake smile. “I was. What’s
up?”
“Callan and I were going to take you out for
ice cream. You know, to cheer you up. I can come back though…if
it’s not a good time,” she shuffles awkwardly.
“I’d love some ice cream. I’ll meet you guys
outside in a minute.” My pitch is high.
“Okay.” She looks between Gage and I for a
moment before slowly leaving.
Gage smirks sexily at me.
I huff. “They treat me like a child.”
“I have an engagement this evening so they
offered to babysit you, love.”
“I thought you didn’t babysit?”
He shrugs. “If they’re buying, I suggest
rainbow sprinkles.”
I nudge him with my shoulder. “Go…drop some
panties. Break some hearts. Or whatever it is you’re doing
tonight,” I say as he stands and heads to the doorway.
“Oh, and Gage.”
“Yeah, love?”
“Thanks for letting me in.”
Gage nervously smiles and leaves.
***
“I can’t even believe that I am mated to
you,” Abby screeches. I cringe. An hour. This has been going on for
an hour.
Please God make it stop
. I sigh and swallow another
spoonful.
“Baby, don’t be like that. You know it’s
totally true.
Ben & Jerry’s Hazed and Confused
is
honestly the best flavor ice cream in the history of the world,”
Callan argues.
Abby’s eyes are like saucers. Big, blue,
angry saucers. “Callan Thomas St. Michael, I may have to break our
bond.
McConnell’s Eureka Lemon and Marion Berries
is by far
the best flavor ever made. Right, Eve?” They both stare at me,
waiting for me to pick a side. I groan.
“I’m partial to black raspberry,” I offer
quietly, not really wanting to be in the middle.
Callan’s jaw drops and Abby beams before
clearly taking the high road.
Good lord.
“That’s closer to my flavor, and since
they’re both fruit flavors, I win,” she declares.
“No way. Babe, her pick doesn’t count. That
flavor isn’t even an ice cream. It’s a sorbet or frozen yogurt, or
something. I mean, who picks a fruit flavored ice cream?” Callan
disputes.
Abby’s mouth drops. “I JUST DID!”
“Would you two please tone it down? Christ,
it’s like I’m out with my parents. People are staring and you’re
embarrassing me with your bickering.”
God, they’re like
children.
Callan and Abby look around with perplexed
looks on their faces.
“Cutie, there’s like, no one here. How could
we possibly be embarrassing you? Are you telling me the opinion of
one scoop girl is going to keep you up all night?” He laughs
lightly.
“You’re so immature.” I roll my eyes at his
antics.
“All right, babe. Eves doesn’t want our ice
cream war to humiliate her. Apparently, she’s ‘too cool’ for
school. So what do you say, just admit I’m right and we’ll call it
a night.”
Just as Abby is about to make her case,
again, the front window of the ice cream shop shatters, sending
shards of glass everywhere. The three of us hit the floor. On our
hands and knees, both gargoyles move to protect me from whatever
blew the window out.
Shit.
Thoren emerges through the darkness with two
large men, mirror images of one another, flanking him, one on each
side. They lithely walk through the nonexistent window as glass
crunches under the weight of their heavy black combat boots.
Uninterested in the scene in front of him,
Thoren walks over to the whimpering girl behind the counter and
runs his sword right through her throat. Ending her life by
decapitation. My stomach rolls at the cruel display of evil as her
head hits the ground.
“Christ,” I gasp as bile rises into my
throat.
He didn’t even blink.
At the sound of my voice, Thoren swings his
head in my direction. Callan and Abby both stand and move in a
warrior stance. I follow suit behind them. The demon takes a step
toward us, his samurai sword dripping with blood.
Crap. This
isn’t going to end well.
“What the fuck, dude?” Callan says to him
from in front of me.
“Eve,” Thoren addresses me, his voice deep
and ominous.
“Friend of yours?” Callan questions.
Shit. I’d forgotten to tell the clan about him.
“Um…Thoren is a high-level demon, and
apparently a stalker,” I answer, scared shitless.
“Higher Demon?” Abby repeats to herself,
somewhat perturbed.
“What can we do for you gentlemen this
evening?” Callan asks in a friendly, relaxed tone.
Thoren just tilts his head in a threatening
fashion. “I’ve come for the girl.”
I peek around Callan to see the other two
imposing soldiers. Twins. Neither has hair. Their heads are as bald
as a baby’s bottom. Both demons also have black eyes and pale skin,
almost albino, which looks ghastly against their all black army
fatigues. I cringe.
Callan sighs dramatically. “Thoren, was it?
Listen, dude, I’m not one of those guys who likes to disappoint
others. I have this unhealthy need to be liked complex. Right,
babe?”
“It’s true. He sulks for weeks if someone
doesn’t like him,” Abby adds.
Oh my God, these two.
“That said we’ve become quite fond of and
attached to Eves. Which means there is no way in hell we’re handing
her over to you. If you want her, you’ll have to go through us.
Sorry to disappoint you guys. I’d be happy to buy you a fruit
flavored ice cream to make up for it though. Wait.” Callan tsks.
“You killed the scoop girl.”
Holy shit.
I’m so
screwed.
Tiring of Callan’s clowning around, Thoren
stretches his head from side to side before taking a threatening
step toward us. At the movement, both gargoyles protrude their
raven wings, morphing into warriors. Withdrawing their weapons,
they’re vigilantly ready to fight.
It’s starting to rain and the wind is
whipping droplets of water into the deserted shop, causing puddles
to form and mix with the young girl’s blood. I’m trying to stay
calm, but after watching Thoren kill that innocent girl, without
thought or emotion, I’m becoming gut wrenchingly terrified.
Callan and Abby aren’t protectors, they’re
my family. I love them and if anything were to happen to either of
them, I wouldn’t survive the loss. My heart is racing as I take in
the scene in front of me.
“I do not play games, gargoyle,” Thoren
spits out spitefully at Callan.
“I guess you won’t be invited to family game
night then,” Abby murmurs.
Callan’s focus flicks to Abby for a moment.
“Good one, babe.”
“Thanks.” She beams under his adoration.
“ENOUGH!” Thoren’s explosive voice rocks the
shop.
The remaining window glass falls from the
frame and clanks on the tile.
My stomach drops at the command and my hands
automatically move to my daggers.
Callan’s face contorts in rage before he
snaps forward toward Thoren. “Agreed, demon.”
Out of the blue, the twins morph into one
body. I blink rapidly, trying to figure out if what I’m seeing is
accurate. Unexpectedly, they teleport behind Abby and grab her
around the throat. She’s fast though, bending at the waist and
escaping their grasp.