Gregor (Stone Society Book 2)

by Faith Gibson

  “Once I check in on the inmate and feel certain he will have no further episodes, I will be headed your way. I can come by your home, if that’s convenient.” Dante was interested in seeing what type of home she owned. Gregor had already been there, and Dante felt a tinge of jealousy. Not at his brother. He knew Gregor had no design on Isabelle other than as a boss. No, Dante wanted to be the only man to enter Isabelle’s home. Was it a modest home since she lived alone, or was it posh and ostentatious?

  “I’m not home right now, but I can meet you there in about half an hour. Will that be sufficient travel time?”

  “You’re not home? Where are you? I mean, sorry. What I meant was I can come to you, if that is more convenient.” Dammit, calm yourself. Don’t scare her any more than she already is.

  “Oh, well that would be nice. I am at my clinic. It’s over on…”

  “I know where it is. I will be there in thirty minutes.”

  Dante gave Deacon instructions regarding the inmate’s care. He was going to talk to Isabelle then come back to relieve Deacon from watching the man.

  Thirty minutes proved to be more than sufficient travel time. Dante was about to knock on the door to the clinic when it was pulled open. Had he not filled his being with her scent earlier, he might have fallen to his knees. His mate was a dark-haired beauty with bright, chocolate eyes. “You must be Dr. Di Pietro. I see the family resemblance.” She stepped back, allowing him passage into the waiting area.

  “I am, but please, call me Dante. You make me feel old addressing me by my title.”

  “My apologies. But you are old, are you not? You’re a Gargoyle.” Isabelle was looking at him clinically, like she would a sample under a microscope.

  Dante’s face was impassive. “I am 563. I guess to you I am old. For a Gargoyle, I am but a babe.”

  Isabelle’s brown eyes were taking in his entire six-foot-four frame. He put her at approximately five-seven. If she were lying down, he would better be able to ascertain her height. Most bodies he observed were in the supine position. It took him a few seconds to realize her eyes were wide and her heartbeat was once again erratic.

  “I need to ask you a question, if that’s all right,” she stated shyly.

  “Of course. What would you like to know?”

  “Have you visited the Pen any time in the last week, other than today?” He could see the wheels turning behind her beautiful eyes. She was wondering if he was her mate.

  “Yes, I have. Why do you ask?” He wanted to tell her the truth, but he was afraid. She was gorgeous and he was… well, he was just Dante.

  “It’s just that…Tessa said I…what I mean is…why do you use the last name Di Pietro when your brothers go by Stone?”

  Dante’s heart sunk. Was she scared he was her mate? If so, he would just have to accept the rejection should she determine him to be less than suitable. “I use our family surname to separate myself from the others. Too many Stones in one location makes it harder to keep up the charade that we are not related. Now, may I ask you something?”

  “Yes, of course, but why don’t we have a seat. May I offer you something to drink?” Dante had to wonder if she was this proper all the time. He had witnessed the whirlwind that was Tessa when he and Gregor went to The Tavern. He couldn’t see Isabelle in a biker bar setting, but he was all right with that. At present, she was dressed in a pair of dress slacks and a short-sleeved sweater that accentuated her figure nicely.

  “No, thank you.”

  Isabelle cocked her head to the side and asked, “No, you don’t want to have a seat, or no, you don’t want a drink?”

  His usually expressionless face softened for her. Unconsciously, he ran his index finger down her cheek. “I would love to have a seat, but I do not require a drink.” Isabelle shivered under his touch. Her pupil’s dilated, and her breathing hitched. Fuck, the mate pull was affecting her.

  They sat in adjacent chairs, neither one leaning back. Their knees were inches apart. “You had a question?” She asked him breathlessly.

  “How do you feel about Gargoyles?” He, Dante Di Pietro, was a chicken shit.

  “I, well, uh, I…” She nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Never mind. I probably don’t want to know the answer anyway. Why don’t we talk about the inmates?”

  “No, I’d rather talk about you. Honestly, I’m just a little nervous. You have to understand, until a couple of weeks ago, I wasn’t aware Gargoyles even exist. Imagine my surprise when I found out I am half Gargoyle. I was privy to the information for all of a few hours when I found out my father, whom I thought was dead, is really alive. I saw a brother I didn’t know I had transition right before my eyes. I ran into my mother whom I haven’t seen in approximately twenty years, and she looks my age. Then, I myself begin transitioning in front of your brother who is supposed to be the bad guy. I was told I shouldn’t talk to Gregor, or you, because your kind ostracized one of their own when he fell in love. So when you ask how I feel about Gargoyles, my answer would have to be conflicted.”

  “Who told you not to talk to me? Your father?” Dante would ring Jonas Montague’s fucking neck if he attempted to keep them apart.

  “No, Tessa did. She has her reasons. I’m just not certain they are valid.”

  “What do you mean?” He didn’t want to have to tell Gregor to put a muzzle on his mate, but he would if she interfered.

  “Tessa was keeping the family secrets so the Gargoyles wouldn’t find out about us: the half-bloods. Now the secret is out of the bag.”

  “So now that the secret is out, and you know Tessa is mated to a Gargoyle, what are your opinions on the matter? You do know Gregor is her mate, do you not?” Dante should just come out and ask her. Again, chicken shit.

  Isabelle nodded, “I guess it’s safe for them since she isn’t merely a human. I mean, if they have children, the offspring will have three-quarters shifter blood, right? So the man who is so prejudiced against humans might back off and leave them alone.”

  “What are you talking about? What man?” Dante was positive this conversation just went from bad to worse.

  “Some uncle of the King’s. I didn’t catch his name since Tessa was in a hurry to make her travel arrangements.”

  Holy shit. No way. No fucking way. Dante needed to call Gregor and have him interrogate his woman. “So if you were to find out your mate is a Gargoyle, would you be okay with that?”

  Isabelle’s hands twisted in her lap. Dante could hear her heartbeat speeding up. He didn’t want to make her nervous, he just wanted to know if he had a snowball’s chance in hell of finding happiness.

  “Are you suggesting… you and I are…? I don’t really have a choice, do I? Not that I have anything against you. I mean, I’m half Gargoyle after all. I just don’t understand how everyone is on board with the fates deciding who we are supposed to spend our life with. Look at Gregor and Tessa. She has been fighting the bond for three years. And you, you deserve someone who isn’t plain or…”

  Dante couldn’t believe she was speaking of herself that way. “Isabelle, you are one of the most beautiful women I have ever met in my very long life. I’m not just saying that because of the bond either.”

  Isabelle continued ringing her hands, so he took a chance and held them between his own. She flashed her eyes up to his. He continued, “I am unsure about the whole mate bond as well. Instead of jumping in with both feet, we can pretend it isn’t there, or if you like, we can take it slow and see how it goes.” Dante was giving her time to adjust. It would crush him if she didn’t want to at least explore the possibility of being together.

  Isabelle bit her bottom lip while thinking of how to respond. He really wished she wouldn’t do that. It only drew attention to her mouth, and her mouth was beautiful. Full red lips were enticing enough without her white teeth making indentions in the lower one. She finally squeezed his hands and replied, “I think I would like taking it slow. Honestly, I’ve been in love
before. At least I thought it was love. It could have been a young girl’s infatuation with a confident, older man. When I married Alexi, I thought it was for life. It wasn’t. I don’t want to screw this up, but at the same time, I don’t want to withhold the relationship destined to be your one and only. Does that make sense?”

  Dante hated hearing about her love for another man. While he didn’t want Isabelle to hurt in any way, he was glad the other man was dead, else he might have to take care of that himself. When Nikolas was searching for the daughter of Jonas Montague, he had found out the tragic story behind her husband’s demise. “Yes, it makes sense. I know I’m not much to look at, and I’m sure your late husband was probably very handsome. Please don’t lie to me just to spare my feelings, and definitely don’t pursue our relationship out of a sense of duty. I’ve been alone over five hundred years. I can handle going the rest of my life without my mate if she doesn’t find me worthy.”

  Isabelle surprised him when she leaned in and placed her lips to his. It was a simple, chaste kiss, but it was heaven none the less. “You are definitely worthy,” she whispered against his mouth.

  Trying not to think about the tingle on his lips, he told her, “I will give you some space until you are settled into your new job and your new body. I will call you and ask you for a date, and we will proceed as any other couple would. If you need to see me or just want to talk to me before that time, please give me a call.”

  Isabelle gave him a small smile and nodded. “Now, about those inmates.”

  Twenty-Nine

  Gregor was feeling empty. He had called Tessa, offering to fly her back to New Atlanta. When she declined, he asked that she at least let him drive her to the airport. Again she turned him down. She told him to move on with his life and find someone else to fulfil his time as well as his bed. Then she hung up. Being a shifter herself, she knew it didn’t work that way. Maybe she could find another man to take to bed, but he would not give up. It would kill him to watch her be with someone else, but he would never take another woman to his bed, not while there was still a chance with his mate.

  He didn’t bother going home for a uniform before he headed to the Pen. As soon as he arrived, he called Deacon to his office for a report. Nothing too traumatic had happened, and Dante’s patient was back in his cell. Now that Gregor was back in town, he would call Isabelle and have her return to work as soon as she was ready. The one thing of interest that happened was Vincent Alexander had changed his note. Now, instead of it reading cigarette, it read Isabelle. There was no way Gregor would allow Alexander anywhere near Isabelle without several shifters being right there with her. If she could get any useful information out of him, he was willing to try it. At least once.

  Deacon left the office to make his rounds, and Gregor slumped down in his chair with his head leaned back, eyes closed. His thoughts wouldn’t quieten. The events of New Orleans played in his mind like a movie on repeat. His desk phone rang several times before he relented and answered. “Stone.”

  “Warden Stone, this is Elizabeth Flanagan. If you care at all for my daughter, you will stop her from going to Egypt.” The line went dead, and the dial tone buzzed in his ear. Gregor looked at the receiver like it was a snake.

  “Fuck. FUCK!” He slammed the receiver down in its cradle and ran his hand through his hair.

  He called Deacon on his radio and told him he was in charge again; Gregor had an emergency. Then he called Isabelle. She didn’t answer her home phone so he called her cell. “Hello?”

  “Isabelle, it’s Gregor. I need Tessa’s address.” He was already in his Hummer, headed out the gate.

  “Is everything okay?” Isabelle was going to protect Tessa, he knew it.

  “No, everything is not okay. I have to stop her from leaving the country. Where does she live?”

  “Gregor, I don’t know if I should…” She was stopped by another voice in the background. Was that Dante? “Oh, okay, I will text it to you. But Gregor, she really does need to go to Egypt. One of our cousins is in trouble.”

  “I will work that out with Tessa. Thank you, Isabelle.”

  If someone was in trouble, his mate was not the cavalry. They could find someone else to ride in and save the day. His cell phone pinged with a text message from Isabelle. Once he had the address, Gregor put the pedal down. He arrived at Tessa’s home in record time. He angled out of the Hummer and strode to the front door. Calming himself, he used his senses to check the area. The shower was running, and Tessa was singing.

  Even though the house sat back off the road, he didn’t take a chance someone could see him picking the locks. He stole his way to the back door, and luckily, the alarm was not set. He would have to speak to Tessa about that. After a quick job on the lock, he let himself in. He looked around Tessa’s house. It was much larger than he expected. The family must pay her well for her to have this home as well as the one in New Orleans. The furnishings were comfortable. Photographs lined the walls. Pictures of exotic locations as well as random people were scattered throughout. Not one of the pictures included her though. He sat down in a chair in the living room admiring the stone hearth. It reminded him of a smaller version of his own fireplace. He sat back and enjoyed the tunes Tessa was singing with a radio. His mate had a decent voice. The water turned off. Gregor willed himself to stay calm.

  Tessa walked out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel. She paused, sensing someone in her house. As she rounded the corner to the living room she shrieked, “What the FUCK are you doing here?” Gregor was sitting in her recliner, ankle crossed over his knee. “Being an officer of the law, you should know the meaning of breaking and entering!”

  “The alarm wasn’t on,” Gregor said nonchalantly staring at the unlit fireplace.

  “Bullshit. I locked the doors and set the security. What are you doing here?” She seriously didn’t want to know the answer.

  “I came to ask you about bonding. You seem to be the expert on the subject.”

  “You have five seconds to clear out, Stone.” Tessa hitched the towel higher around her breasts.

  “Or what? You gonna kick me out?”

  “No, I’m gonna call the police. See how the Chief feels about her mate’s brother breaking the law.”

  “Go ahead and call her. While you have her on the phone, tell her what you know about humans mating with Gargoyles.”

  “I’m going to put on some clothes, if you don’t mind.”

  “Be my guest.” Gregor went back to staring at the fireplace.

  “Be my guest,” Tessa mumbled as she disappeared into her bedroom. She dropped the towel as she pulled open her dresser drawers, looking for something, anything to cover her body. Son of a fucking bitch. She’d teach him.

  “911, what’s your emergency?”

  “This is Tessa Blackmore. There’s an intruder in my house.”

  “What’s your address Miss Blackmore?” Before Tessa could respond, a roar came from behind her.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Gregor was coming at her, fully phased. His massive wings filled up her room.

  “Proving a point.” Tessa forgot she was naked. Gregor’s eyes scanned her body. His nostrils were flaring and his chest heaving. Oh shit. He’s feeling the mate pull.

  “I’m sorry, there’s no intruder. It’s just my husband.” Tessa hung up and threw the phone on the bed.

  “Why aren’t you screaming?” Gregor had his head cocked, frowning.

  “It’s not like I’ve never seen a Gargoyle, and besides, I don’t scream.”

  He laughed, “I bet I can make you scream.”

  Tessa rolled her eyes. “You need to get out of here and let me put some clothes on.” He wasn’t backing up. No, he was inching forward. “Stone, listen to me. Phase back. You don’t want to do this, not now.”

  He wasn’t changing. She knew she smelled too good to him. She opened the night stand drawer and pulled out her gun. “Stop, Stone. Don’t make me shoot you.”


  “You won’t shoot me, Red.” He took a couple more steps in her direction.

  Fuck this. She cocked the hammer and aimed at his meaty thigh. “Not one more step.”

  Gregor didn’t bat an eyelash. He lunged for Tessa and the gun went off.

  “Fucking hell, you shot me!” Gregor was staring at the scratch on his leg. “You fucking shot me!”

  “I told you to stop. Maybe next time you’ll listen.” She put the gun back in the night stand and turned toward the closet. At least she could put on her robe. She didn’t make it two steps before she felt herself being hurled through the air, landing on her back on the bed. Gregor was on her, his powerful body keeping hers in place, strong hands holding her arms above her head. His claws and wings were gone but his fangs, those were front and center. Her eyes focused on his but she could see the fangs threatening in her peripheral vision.

  “You shot me, Red. What should I do about that?” Gregor’s hard cock was pressing against her bare pussy. His shredded cotton shirt was rubbing against her nipples as he moved over her. His breath was in her ear as he scraped a fang along her chin, down her neck, landing on her shoulder.

  “I think you should get off.” Tessa squirmed under him, not sure if she was trying to push his big body off hers or get a little friction going.

  “Oh, I’ll get off all right, but not before you do.” He released her hands as he kissed her shoulder then slid down her body taking a stiff nipple into his mouth. He flicked the bud with his tongue then sucked on it causing fire to shoot through Tessa’s body. He nicked her skin with his fangs. The pain was sharp, but at the same time so very sensual. He licked the drop of blood he’d drawn before he continued down her stomach, stopping to take in the tattoo above her hip bone. If he lingered long enough, he just might figure it out. He obviously had other things on his mind, because he moved farther down until his face was between her now spread thighs. She really should have him in a leg lock, not opening farther for him. Damn mating pull. Her body was fighting with her brain. It knew the male on top of her belonged there, even if her head was telling her hell no.