“No, it was a bar fight in a werewolf bar,” I corrected.
Atticus shared a look with the others. “We’ll handle it tonight.”
“What is there to handle?” I asked. “They were drunk, and they’re already being punished by being banned from the bar. And you know how wolves like their beer,” I said with a smile. I headed toward the bathroom to the left of my bedroom door. “I’ll be out in a sec.” I closed the door behind me and started the water in the faucet. I looked in the mirror. It wasn’t bad, a split lip with a bruised jaw and cheekbone. I’ve had worse.
Atticus
Someone had hit her! I reined in my temper as I turned back to the others.
“You let her go into a werewolf bar?” I asked in a deadly calm voice.
Ranulf sighed. “Let really isn't the word for it, boss. She was already inside before we got there.” Falk shot him a look. “Fine, before I got there.”
I turned to Falk. “Why did you allow her to go in?” Falk’s posture grew tense as he pulled out his phone. My phone vibrated.
Falk: Several wolves said hi to her outside. It seemed like nothing new. I saw no safety issue.
Falk must have used what was left of his voice to talk to Evelyn. I couldn’t blame him, she was… I shoved that thought away.
“And the bar fight?” Zahur asked.
“She held her own until we got inside. And she would have been fine even if we didn’t interfere,” Ranulf explained.
“You don’t know that,” I pointed out. “From now on, she doesn’t go anywhere without an escort. Understood?”
Everyone said yes. I didn’t care if she liked it or not. She couldn’t go walking around unguarded.
The bathroom door opened. Evelyn came out, the blood gone from the corner of her lips.
Her eyes ran over the squad. “Is anyone hungry? Thirsty?” she asked, nervously pushing up the sleeves of her blue V-neck. Everyone said no. The room was tense as she moved between all of us to the sofa.
The right side of her face was starting to bruise a little. A wolf must have gotten a shot in before Ranulf and Falk could interfere. The injuries on her face had me struggling for control. Damn it, Atticus, lock it down. Cyrus’s voice rang through my mind. I planted my feet in front of the fireplace. I wasn’t going to her, I wasn’t going to be The Matching’s bitch.
Ranulf headed to the kitchen while everyone settled on the sofa and chairs.
“Are you dizzy? Any nausea?” Zahur asked.
“I’m okay,” she insisted to Zahur. Ranulf dropped to the sofa on the other side of her, then handed her the ice pack. She smiled as she took it.
“Is it starting to show?” she asked dryly.
“Aye,” Ranulf said as he rested his arm along the back of the couch behind her. I fought back the impulse to knock it off the couch. Rein it in, Atticus!
“Thanks.” She held the pack to her face.
“We’ve got a Hunger demon in the city with three kills,” I announced. My gaze went to Evelyn. “I want one of us with you at all times, as a precaution.” Her shoulders grew tense as she let out a calming breath.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” she said.
I ignored her. It was the only safe thing to do. “We’ll be using Evelyn’s apartment as our base of operations.”
“Until you find your own place,” she added quickly.
“So, we're staying?” Ranulf asked. My eyes ran over Evelyn. Her presence here concerned me.
“Since Evelyn is refusing to leave, we have to stay and protect her,” I explained. “Which gives us the chance to stay in the city and take care of the Hunger demon.”
“Is the Council going to go along with that?” Zahur asked from his end of the couch.
“They understand that a female not raised in our culture will need to take time to trust us,” I hedged before looking at all of them.
“You didn’t mention the Hunger demon, did you?” she asked with a mischievous grin.
I ignored her and continued. “In the morning, we’ll go to the local Templars and see what they know.”
“The Templars? Who are they?” Evelyn asked. Everyone looked at her in surprise.
I was the first to recover. “The Templars have been the eyes of our species since their inception in 1278. Their purpose was to help us control all supernatural races.” I turned to Zahur. “Zahur, find where it came through the barrier and seal it.”
“I will.” Zahur’s voice was hard. Evelyn frowned then looked back to me.
“And how is he going to do that?” she asked.
Zahur explained “Remember, I work in the Ether between dimensions. With the Veil shut-”
“Wait, what’s the Veil?” she asked instantly. Stunned, I ran my eyes over her. This was basic education for any gargoyle. What had her parents taught her?
“It’s the, well, portal, for lack of a better word. It’s where the dead cross over into the next world,” Ranulf explained. “And someone has closed it off. Which means-”
“The dead can’t cross,” she finished for him. Ranulf nodded. She was quick.
“Right. With it closed, the energy level in this world is building and causing cracks to form in the barriers between Earth, Heaven and Hell,” I explained, trying to be patient. “And these cracks are the perfect opportunity for demons and angels to cross into this world.”
“My skills keep me in the Ether as a guard,” Zahur added. She looked up at him.
“You stop them,” she said. He nodded.
“It hasn’t left me a lot of time in this world. I’m rarely here anymore.” Zahur told her dryly.
“I get why no demons, but why keep angels out?” she asked. There was silence as I exchanged looks with Falk. I had to know.
“Evelyn,” I got her attention. “What exactly did your parents teach you?” She sat a little straighter.
“My education was focused in a different area,” she hedged.
“And what area was that?” I asked politely. She looked up at me, her eyes shadowed.
“How to stay alive,” she said quietly. She looked at each of us. “I’m not going to be much good for this meeting, so I’ll just go get ready for bed.” She got up before I could say a word. “The couch is a pullout and there are sheets, blankets and pillows in the linen closet to the left of the bathroom,” she offered before walking into the bathroom.
Everyone was silent until we heard the shower turn on. Then we all cursed.
“She doesn’t even have the basic education,” Falk snapped in his gravelly voice, furious.
“But she has training in her abilities.” Zahur offered. “She jumped into that girl’s last memory like a pro.”
“Aye, and she handled herself in the bar,” Ranulf added. “There’s training there too.” I shook my head. This didn’t make sense.
“She knows what we were created for. Even reminded me that our job was to protect humans,” Zahur told us.
“All advanced education but no basic,” I muttered. I rubbed my eyes with one hand. It made no sense. “We’ll definitely need to keep a guard on her.”
Zahur eyed me. “Anything you want to tell us, Atticus?”
Ranulf raised an eyebrow. My face was hard as I met Zahur’s eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Zahur smirked. “Anything about a certain female who’s in the shower?”
“What are you going on about?” Ranulf asked, looking from Zahur to my hard face.
“How do you know?” I growled. How did he figure it out?
“Observation,” Zahur said. “She doesn’t know.” My shoulders relaxed.
“What the devil are you two talking about?” Ranulf snapped.
“Nothing,” I said coldly. This was none of their business and it had even less to do with their jobs.
Zahur smirked. “She’s his Match.”
Ranulf’s jaw dropped. “No … no, not that little spitfire.” He looked back to meet my hard gaze. His eyes grew wide, then he started
laughing.
“And she doesn’t know?” Ranulf asked, still laughing.
“I asked if she knew the term The Matching,” Zahur explained. “She said she didn’t.”
“And she won’t,” I announced. Everyone went still.
“You’re not going to tell her?” Ranulf asked incredulously.
“This is just going to get in the way,” I told him. Ranulf looked at me as if I had lost my mind.
“Aye, a female who could become your Mate after centuries of being alone,” Ranulf said sarcastically. “What a pain in the arse.” My gaze snapped to his.
“That’s not what I said,” I pointed out calmly.
“You’re going to have to take her out on a date,” Zahur stated.
"Dates? Like the fruit?” Ranulf asked. Falk let out a laugh that sounded more like a cough. Ranulf grabbed the small pillow behind his back and threw it at him. Falk caught it as his shoulders were shaking, telling me he was still laughing.
“You’re over thirteen hundred years old,” Zahur said, his voice exasperated. “Tell me you’ve actually taken a female out on a date.”
“If it’s not the fruit, then what the hell is a date?” Ranulf growled. Everyone but me bit back a smile. My mind was on the sound of the shower. How long did we have before she got out and could hear us again?
My phone vibrated. I pulled it out and checked it.
Falk: It’s when you take a female out, to a meal, a movie, and you get to know her. It’s how modern couples get to know each other.
Why did he send this to me? I read out loud what Falk sent.
“Oh,” Ranulf grumbled as I looked up at them. “Scots don’t date. We’re rather upfront about it all.”
“It’s not your problem,” Zahur reminded Ranulf. Ranulf chuckled.
“Falk and I will take the first watch,” I announced. “Get some sleep.”
I stepped away from the fireplace to a window and looked out while they started making room to open the sofa bed. I watched the traffic on the street.
My mind was busy running through ways to keep her from finding out about The Matching and Mates. The others would keep their mouths shut, but Zahur… that male liked to meddle.
The shower shut off. Standing this close to her bedroom wall I had no choice but to listen to her get ready for bed. She hummed softly as she moved around her bedroom. It was a nice soft sound. I pulled back from that thought.
As time passed, she moved around in bed enough that I wondered if she was ever going to go to sleep. When her breathing finally became deep and even I let out a deep breath.
As the night went on I thought about those shadows in her eyes, and wondered what put them there.
3
December 16
Evelyn
I woke up to sunlight shining on my face. I rolled over and stretched. There were already noises on the other side of my door. The males must be awake. I stared up at my ceiling and thought about them. Or, about one of them in particular. I rubbed my eyes and tried to understand what it was about him that kept getting my attention He’d been on my mind since I went into the bathroom. Then to bed. And while in bed. It had taken a while to fall asleep, but exhaustion had finally won out. Well. Lying in bed all day wasn't going to get me any answers. I got up and went to get dressed.
A while later I came out of my bedroom in dark jeans, a white long-sleeved scoop neck shirt, and dark tan knee-high boots. My hair was back in a pony tail down my back.
Atticus was washing a dish in the sink. He was in another suit, a severe black one, with a white button-down shirt and no tie. His white hair was styled the same as yesterday. Again, he was perfect. Not a wrinkle or hair out of place. How did he manage that?
“Morning,” I greeted him as I pulled out my kettle. Atticus moved around to sit on a stool at the breakfast bar while I filled the kettle with water.
“Morning,” he said gruffly. Was he having a bad morning?
I set the kettle on the stove and turned the burner on high. I pulled out my good tea bags. By the time I dished up my plate with eggs and toast the kettle was whistling. I set my plate down and picked up the kettle.
“Where is everyone?” I asked as I poured boiling water into my mug.
“They are running a sweep at the moment,” Atticus said absently. I picked up my plate, silverware and tea before I moved around the counter to sit on the stool next to him.
“Why so early?” I asked before taking a bite.
He took a deep breath. “We run a morning sweep to find any demons taking cover from the dawn.”
“Good idea,” I said as I continued eating. They weren’t going to find anything. I had my own people out doing patrols. Well, not exactly people.
I could feel his eyes on me as I took out my teabag, then added milk and sugar to my tea. His silence was unnerving. “How’d you sleep last night? I know a sofa bed isn’t the most comfortable place to sleep,” I said as I tried to make conversation.
“We managed.” He picked up his coffee and took a drink.
“Alright.” I gave up, he was just going to be grouchy this morning.
“We’ve already managed to rent the apartment across the hall,” he announced. “So, you will have your privacy. But there will still be one of us in here at night to guard you.”
I ignored the guard part, I didn’t want to argue about it right now. “And you won’t be sleeping on a couch,” I reminded him. He nodded cautiously.
“That is also a benefit,” he admitted quietly. I went back to eating my breakfast and drinking my tea. When I was finished he broke the silence.
“Evelyn, the team has a meeting with the Templars in thirty minutes,” he said carefully. “Would you like to join us?”
I thought about who could take an emergency shift at the store. “If I can get someone to cover the store that soon.” I pulled out my cell phone.
“What store?” he demanded.
“The one downstairs in the building, to the west.”
“The bookstore? You work there?” he asked, surprised.
“No, I own it.” I looked down my phone and called Rina.
“Hey Evie.” Rina’s voice was sleepy.
“Hi, I need an emergency cover.” I didn’t bother beating around the bush.
“Another shift? Hell yeah,” she said cheerfully.
“You’re a life saver. Mr. Gallagher should be coming in to pick up Ulysses by James Joyce. It’s the 1935 Limited Editions Club signed by Matisse. It’s sealed in the sold safe. If he wants to examine it-”
“Make him wear the gloves,” Rina finished for me.
“Yes, and the price is set. No negotiation. If he tries, call me,” I reminded her.
“I got it boss.”
“Thanks hon, bye.” I hung up the phone then turned to Atticus. “Thank goodness for great employees.” He was watching me. “What?”
He narrowed his eyes on me. “I thought the big bookstores would have put all the smaller ones out of business by now. You must have loyal customers.”
I smiled. “I sell antique books, first editions. I even broker deals between customers all over the world occasionally.” He ran an assessing gaze over me. “And yes, I do have loyal customers.”
“Hmm.” He turned his attention back to his coffee. “You know, if you came back with us you would have unlimited resources for books.”
I smiled, hesitating. “That sounds nice,” I hedged. “But, I’m still not leaving with the demon on the loose.”
He nodded once. “That’s understandable.”
I got up and took my dishes to the sink. When I turned around he was on his feet.
“We need to go,” he announced before turning and heading for the door.
As I followed, Atticus picked up my gray wool pea coat and held it out for me to put on. I smiled to myself as I let him help me with my coat.
"Thank you," I said quietly. Atticus didn’t have a jacket, just like the others last night. I turned around and
asked. “Why don’t you or the others wear jackets?”
His gaze snapped to mine. “Because we can regulate our body temperature at will,” he said matter-of-factly. His eyes narrowed on me. “Did your parents not teach you that?”
I finished closing my jacket. “Yes, but coats help you blend in,” I pointed out. “Anyone not wearing a coat in winter is going to garner some attention.”
His face was thoughtful he held the door open for me. I stepped into the hallway and waited for him to close the door. I followed him downstairs and outside. He had managed to find parking on the street last night, which seemed like magic to me. I climbed into the sleek Mercedes. It smelled new; I was betting it was a rental. Atticus slid in on the other side and started the car.
“How old were you when your parents died?” he asked. I looked at him in surprise.
“Seventeen,” I answered. “I still miss them sometimes.” The car grew silent.
When the car was warmed up, he pulled out into traffic. “‘Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live,’” he muttered under his breath so softly I barely caught it.
“Norman Cousins. Interesting choice,” I said, looking out the window. “I would have gone with Longfellow. ‘There is no grief like the grief that does not speak.’” I turned back to find his eyes running over me, surprise lighting them.
He turned back to the road. “‘Loss is nothing else but change, and change is Nature’s delight.’”
“Really? You’re going with Marcus Aurelius?” I asked, surprised.
“I started on the subject of loss,” he pointed out.
I huffed. “And I countered with grief. Your turn to pick a new topic.”
“There are rules to this conversation?” he asked, his brow drawn down.
“It’s a game some of the book collectors play,” I explained as I looked back out the window. “I call it Quote Wars. A new topic must be picked after each quote, but it has to also apply to the quote before. So, a quote about death brings a quote about loss and so on and so forth.”
“Where would you have gone after loss? You’d go right back to grief,” he pointed out.
Found (Books of Stone Book 1) Page 4