Primal Bounty_Pendragon Gargoyles

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Primal Bounty_Pendragon Gargoyles Page 10

by Sydney Somers


  So why couldn’t he move?

  Elena lifted a glass to her lips and turned. Her gaze passed over the crowd, landing squarely on him, all hot and cold and inviting and untouchable.

  Finding his feet shouldn’t have been so difficult yet it took three steps, maybe four, to make his body function properly. Elena’s eyes gleamed, and he could swear it was blatant approval and something a little darker, a little sexier, that flashed in her eyes.

  He held out a hand.

  She slid her palm against his, and the wolf in him nearly rolled over at the feel of her fingers threading through his.

  He spun her in a slow twirl the way he had in the dressing room. “You went back for it.”

  The dark blue and deep purple melted together in a silky shade that poured off one shoulder and fit snug down to mid-thigh where he was treated to a view of the most incredible legs.

  It hadn’t occurred to him when they parted ways that she would go back for it. “You look…amazing.”

  “Try not to sound so proud of yourself.” She turned back to the couple she’d been talking to, the light catching a smudge on her cheek that she’d tried to hide with make-up.

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

  “Elena—”

  “Don’t mind us. We’re just going to get a drink.” The brunette with streaks of burgundy in her hair tugged on her mate’s arm.

  The other gargoyle acknowledged Vaughn with a nod, then gestured to the glass in his mate’s hand. “You haven’t finished that one yet.”

  “I’m really thirsty.” The brunette tugged him toward the bar, waving bye at Elena as they slipped away.

  “Friends of yours?” He watched the couple another moment, saw them stop and talk to Mac, then brought his attention back to Elena.

  “We did each other a favor a while ago.” She finished off her champagne. “So you really are stalking me.”

  “And here I thought you might wait a full minute before baiting me.”

  “I live to defy expectations.” She took a step closer, studying everything from his eyes to his jaw, down to his chest and then back up. “Plus, you are a little easy.”

  He grinned, noticing the lily tucked behind her left ear, partly hidden by the untamed waves of dark hair. “Nice flower. You must have one hell of an admirer.”

  She tipped her glass at him. “A secret admirer as it turns out. He didn’t even leave a note.”

  “A mystery then.” He snagged a glass from a passing tray, took a sip and cringed at the taste.

  “Come on, Barkley. Let’s get you a beer.” Elena looped an arm through the crook of his elbow. “How exactly did you score an invite after pissing Mac off anyway?”

  He looked shocked. “This is a private party?”

  She snorted. “Did you two know each other before?”

  “Before a bitch of a goddess decided the gargoyle clans didn’t have her son’s back and sentenced us to daylight prisons indefinitely? That before?”

  “That would be the one.”

  Mindful of the sorceress’s innate curiosity he answered, “I know Mac through Briana.”

  “I would have thought former members of the Guard would join forces with the rebellion’s Shadows.”

  They reached the bar and waited for the couple ahead of them to be served. “Still trying to dig up my secrets?”

  She pursed her lips. “I have to pass the time somehow.”

  At the far end of the bar, an immortal who looked like a twenty-something movie star, arrogant and polished, openly glared at Elena.

  Elena stepped forward, not paying any attention to the guy and ordered a martini for herself and a beer for him, along with two shots of Absinth. The potent alcohol was one of the few not so easily processed by immortals who wanted to maintain any kind of buzz.

  Vaughn found himself staring at the dress again, in particular the folds that draped off her shoulder. How many tugs would it take to pull the dress all the way off?

  “I just put this on.” She handed him one of the shots and after a clink of their glasses, they drank. “So you need to stop looking like you want to strip it off me already.”

  A woman shouldered her way past them to the bar, not caring that she bumped into Elena.

  Elena was more amused than annoyed. A man joined the rude Fae female, taking care not to touch Elena at all as he squeezed by, but dismissed her with a cool glare.

  “Would it be better if I was looking at you like they are?” Like more than a few people here actually. He cupped her elbow and steered her toward the far side of the dance floor and closer to the railing that offered a colorful view of Vegas. “Why do I get the impression you’re not very popular here?”

  She shrugged. “Like you said. I don’t play well with others.”

  Hearing something in her voice that warned him not to dig too deep into the casual response, he leaned back against the railing. “So who’s the biggest asshole here? Present company excluded,” he tacked on.

  “What makes you think I’m the type to kiss and tell?”

  “Kiss? More like sabotage, maim, promise to destroy.”

  She cocked her head. “Don’t stop now. I’m on the edge of my seat.”

  She was also on the edge of losing her dress. She just didn’t know it yet.

  Angling toward her, he traced the edge of the fabric that didn’t show off nearly enough now that he was standing so close to her. “You thrive on the rush of people underestimating you and then taking them by surprise, and judging by the looks aimed your way in the last few minutes, you’ve done a damn good job.”

  Her shoulders stiffened. “I don’t need anyone’s approval.” She stared out at the city, her brow furrowed. She took a sip of her martini and faced him, that familiar expression of vague amusement on her face.

  He decided it was his least favorite one and not nearly as genuine as her real smile. And he still couldn’t get the sound of her laugh out of his head.

  “Besides,” Elena continued, “I’d miss way too many parties if I let a few hurt feelings keep me away.”

  “Hurt feelings?” If he’d been drinking, he would have choked on his beer. “People don’t contemplate creative decapitation over hurt feelings.” He nodded toward the guy at the bar playing with a small blade, flipping it across his fingers while he watched Elena.

  Elena turned her back to the guy as if daring him to have balls big enough to throw it at her. Knowing Elena it would probably make her night, or at least the part that came with getting even.

  “He might be the only one here that really does fall under the kiss and tell scenario.”

  The wolf bristled at the thought of Mr. Hollywood’s hands anywhere near Elena’s body. Still, he nudged her with his elbow, half-turning her to face the crowd, more than a little curious about the immortals with an axe to grind.

  He gestured to a bull of a man in a pure white suit and enough rings on his beefy fingers to make him look like a Super Bowl alumni ten times over. “What did you do to him?”

  “Won his car in a poker game.”

  “That’s it?”

  “It was one of only ten made and I may have put a few scratches on it before he could win it back.”

  A few scratches? Right. “Was there anything left of it?”

  Her eyes flashed wickedly. “The frame and half the driver’s seat I believe.”

  “And the blonde by the fountain.” A dragon Vaughn guessed, catching the iridescent gleam of jewel-toned scales that flashed across the woman’s cheek whenever she glanced at Elena.

  “I outbid her at an auction a few years ago.”

  He waited, knowing there had to be more to the story than that.

  Elena didn’t disappoint him. “She didn’t appreciate the splash of color I added to a priceless sculpture she admired.” She glanced at Vaughn. “Have you ever noticed how drab some artists are with their color palette?”

  “And the sculptor?”


  She shook her head. “Not nearly as important as the model he used to make his masterpiece.”

  “The dragon?”

  “Believe it or not she was much more interesting rocking the tie-dyed look.”

  He tried and failed to picture it but laughed anyway.

  “And she really hated the cherry-colored pasties I added before dropping it off at one of her parties.”

  “A party she didn’t invite you to?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I would never be that petty. I was the guest of honor.”

  The wind blew her hair across the real smile he couldn’t get enough of. He captured the wild strands and tucked them behind her ear. “And the guy on the left, standing in the group of women?”

  “Not much.” She shrugged. “Just seduced one of his wives.”

  This time he did choke.

  Elena helpfully slapped him on the back. “Kidding.”

  He surveyed the group of women again. “Let me pretend for a second that you’re not.” He closed his eyes. Elena punched him.

  He laughed, nearly spilling his beer. “Then there’s the guy in the corner, by himself. Fae?”

  “Sorcerer,” Elena answered, the change in her voice making him second-guess the game, but she continued without any prompting. “I took something from him I can’t ever give back.” She took a sip from her wine and glanced away.

  He knew genuine regret when he saw it, but didn’t push for the full story. Not this time. “What about her?”

  Elena frowned at the petite redhead standing at the edge of the dance floor. She glanced at Vaughn and moved a little closer, her hip bumping against his. Her fingers curled around his biceps, her warmth sinking straight to the bone.

  Sweet Avalon, he couldn’t stop himself from staring at her lips.

  “The only thing I did to her was move in on the man she’d planned on approaching.”

  “I think I need to hear more about the move in on part.”

  “And I think I need to check out the ladies room.” Finishing her drink, Elena set her glass down on the closest table and strolled away.

  Wait for it.

  She glanced over her shoulder, her smile heart-stopping.

  Grinning, Vaughn watched her until she disappeared through the gate and headed inside.

  “Is it done?”

  Vaughn straightened, studying the contents of his glass. “Tomorrow, just after sundown.” In less than twenty-four hours he’d have Piper back. No more thoughts of what she was going through eating him up inside, no more fear he’d lose her like he lost his parents. Just a few more hours to get through and she would be safe. Finally.

  Mac nodded, smiling at one of the guests by the bar. “Elena wasn’t part of the plan.”

  “Plans change.” The last two days sure as hell hadn’t gone down the way he’d expected.

  “Does she know what it was you took?”

  “I don’t even know what it was.” He also knew that wasn’t the answer Mac was looking for.

  Mac adjusted the cuff of his jacket. “I need to know if she’s going to be a problem.”

  If Mac had asked him the same question two days ago, he might have answered differently. “I’ve got it under control.”

  “Keep it that way. The last thing I need is Cian and Emma getting dragged into this because of her. Never mind Cale and Sorcha and her fucknuts huntress friend.” He exchanged a few words with a few guests that strolled past.

  “You won’t be tied to this.” Vaughn drained his glass, his tone not quite as casual as Mac’s. “How long until it’s discovered missing?”

  “I’d like to say not for another century or two, but that’s probably not going to happen.”

  Vaughn nodded and moved to walk away.

  Mac caught his arm, the wolf in his eyes. “You owe me and I plan to collect someday.”

  “And?”

  “And you need to be breathing for me to do that.” He indicated the doorway Elena had disappeared through. “And that female is not someone you want to get on the wrong side of.”

  “And here I didn’t expect to have a wingman watching my back tonight.”

  Mac’s smile was anything but friendly. “If Elena gets into this any deeper, it won’t just be you who will have to deal with the fallout. Do yourself a favor and stay away from her. And if you can’t do it for yourself, then do it for your sister.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Who are you looking for?”

  Elena turned her attention back to Oren. The Fae had been waiting for her when she’d emerged from the bathroom put together on the outside, not so much on the inside.

  Damn the wolf.

  She’d taken one look at her reflection, her smile wider, brighter than she could remember, a light shining from beneath the surface and warming her everywhere, and got scared.

  Flirting was supposed to be fun. Getting a rise out of the wolf even more so. But make her nervous, her stomach filled with acrobatic butterflies on crack?

  That wasn’t supposed to be part of it. The dress, the flower in her hair—none of that was supposed to be part of it.

  And somewhere in the middle of it all she’d found herself caring what he thought about the less than warm reception she’d received from some of the other guests. Pushing their buttons allowed her to achieve her goals and sometimes it was just plain fun to taunt them.

  Except for the other sorcerer who’d watched her with sheer hatred tainted by his pain.

  She hadn’t expected him to be at the party and wondered if tonight would be the night he finally called her out and sought his revenge.

  Vaughn might be amused by the games she played with the others, but what would he think of her if he knew what she’d cost the sorcerer?

  And when did the wolf’s opinion become important when it was the last one that should matter to her?

  Gods, what was happening to her?

  Torn between bolting and staying—staying and finding out how much brighter she could smile—she’d finally stepped into the hall and right into Oren’s path.

  With her fate temporarily decided for her, she’d returned to the party, conscious of her hand on Oren’s arm, feeling awkward despite the countless times she’d done it in the past.

  Now they stood at the edge of the crowd, another glass of champagne in her hand as she scanned the crowd for Vaughn. She hadn’t caught a glimpse of him in a while. For all she knew he’d left the party. At least she hadn’t been foolish enough to expect to find him waiting for her.

  But maybe a small part of her had been hoping for it.

  “Elena?” Oren studied her, his lips twitching.

  “Dance with me.” She set her glass down.

  “That’s not a request I’ll ever pass up.” He led her into the middle of the dance floor, sharing the space with only a few others, two of whom happened to be the Fae couple from the bar.

  Falling into the rhythm of the music, she moved along with Oren’s easy steps, his solid frame preventing her from looking over his shoulder in search of a gargoyle who was occupying too much of her thoughts.

  It would be a serious problem if she didn’t like it so much.

  “The wolf watches you,” Oren said against her ear, his body a little closer than usual.

  Elena managed a laugh without turning to follow Oren’s gaze. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of a gargoyle?”

  “Hardly.” He spun her around. “I know that eventually you’ll recognize that I’m the perfect man for you.”

  This time she didn’t have to try so hard to laugh. “You’re far more interested in the Fae Court than settling down with anyone.”

  If he’d left the Court and the Queen’s entourage to attend Mac’s party tonight, then he’d probably come on Court business of some kind.

  When Elena had met her grandmother for the first time after her mother’s return, she’d been surprised to find that Titania wasn’t quite the traditionalist she was rumored to be. But she didn’t exactl
y approve of immortals crossing the veil into the human realm either.

  Oren grinned. “I could be moved to change my priorities if I thought I stood a chance of stealing your heart.”

  “We both know it’s not my heart that intrigues you.” They nearly collided with the dagger-eyed Fae couple, saved at the last moment by Oren’s quick shuffle to the left.

  “So why haven’t you put me out of my misery and slept with me with yet?”

  “Because that’s the only reason I still intrigue you.” She moved into another twirl, finally spotting Vaughn. The wolf rested his forearms on one of the tall bar tables to the right of the dance floor. The petite redhead from earlier stood next to him talking non-stop.

  Vaughn nodded at something she said, and then Elena lost track of them as Oren moved them around the floor. The last thing she needed was Oren spreading it around the Court that she was interested in Vaughn.

  She wasn’t particularly concerned with the gossip mongers. Most of the time she wanted to give them something to talk about. But she definitely didn’t want to give her parents a reason to seek her out.

  Her father was having a hard enough time dealing with Emma falling in love with a cat. If he thought for a moment that Elena was also spending time with a gargoyle, he’d make it his mission to set her straight.

  Right now she’d take any of her mother’s calls over a personal visit from her father. While he hadn’t been able to arrange a marriage for Emma with another of their kind, he hadn’t given up hope that Elena would make a good alliance one day, regardless of how strained their relationship was.

  Her mother would happily take the gargoyle over encouraging a match with the aim of gaining more power. Surprisingly, Leah hadn’t mentioned anything about eligible Fae males, but maybe she was saving that for when things weren’t quite so awkward. Although they wouldn’t be awkward at all if Leah hadn’t abandoned them when Elena and Emma were children, or masqueraded as a human to get close to them centuries later.

  The latter of which was still a sore spot between her parents, despite the fact that they obviously hadn’t gotten over each other. Having her parents at odds with each other did have its perks though. It made avoiding them much easier. She had a feeling they’d be a force to reckoned with if they ever presented a united front.

 

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