Found (Books of Stone Book 1)

by B. L. Brunnemer

  “Come to play, little gargoyle?” it asked, its voice dark and deep. I dropped my jacket and walked out from between the crates.

  “How could I ignore such an invitation?” I asked politely. It circled left, I went right. “You could have had a feast. The city could be ripping itself apart by now. Yet you stuck to one vampire. Why?” I asked. The demon scoffed.

  "My reasons are my own,” it growled deeply. It was a growl meant to run down your spine and make your skin crawl. To me, it was just irritating.

  “A Deava like you? How long have you been stuck in Hell? You must be starving. Or did you just come for the scenery? Why limit yourself?” I asked.

  “Orders are orders.” It eyed me. “Now, let me see what your insides look like.” I formed a ball of lightning in my palms, the lines on my skin glowed brighter in the dim light of the warehouse. My mouth burned as both sets of fangs slipped out.

  I gave him a bloodthirsty smile. “Let’s.”

  7

  Atticus

  Heart racing, my grip was tight on the wheel as I drove through a deserted alley and followed the flame line into the warehouse district. She’d gone hunting alone! I was going to kill her the second I saw her! If she was alive. My chest grew tight at the thought of her dead. Fucking Matching!

  I didn’t even know what the hell happened in her apartment. I just remember thinking about what would happen to her if the Elder Council ever found out about her allowing conversion. Execution. There was no other option. And I lost it. I fucking lost it. The next thing I knew the others were arguing with me and Zahur was checking on her. She was gone. I waited only long enough for Zahur’s call then I was out the door and in my car faster than the others could keep up. They were back there, somewhere behind me in the SUV.

  Fear ate at my gut as I pressed down on the accelerator. I needed her to listen, to follow the rules. Otherwise, I wasn’t going to be able to get a handle on this.

  It didn’t help that I didn’t know what her abilities were. She always sounded confident, but was that arrogance or experience? Something told me I was about to find out.

  I sped through the warehouse district. There! At the end of the lane the trail stopped. The flame flickered out. My heart dropped. Either the demon was dead or she was. I sped up. Terror clawed at me, making me shake.

  It was only a minute before I screeched to a stop in front of the warehouse. Then I was out and running through the door. An office; she wasn’t there. Panic took over as I kept running further into the warehouse. I came out from between the large crates and slowed.

  The demon was across the main warehouse, dead, but that didn’t matter. She was on her knees, out of breath. She looked up and met my eyes. Those beautiful eyes. I didn’t think. I started striding towards her.

  “What the fuck do you think you're doing?” I shouted. “You could have been killed!” I dropped to my knees in front of her, grabbed her chin and immediately began examining her. Her face was fine. A burn on one arm, legs fine. Blood, there was blood on her throat but it wasn’t flowing.

  “My job!” she shot back. “I’m fine.” She tried to pry my hand off her chin. Her eyes met mine, fire burning in them. More than half crazy, my lips crushed hers. Cherry blossoms filled my senses, I didn’t wait for an invitation. I dove in and took her mouth, claiming her roughly, leaving nothing to doubt. She was mine. My Match. My Mate. My female. She met me stroke for stroke as heat burned through me.

  Before I could lose myself completely, I grabbed her arms hard and pulled away. Those wild cognac eyes met mine. “Never again,” I growled before pulling her back against me. My mouth took hers again. Her body pressed against me, her curves fitting perfectly. She was heaven. Her taste seared into my memory.

  Tires screeching outside brought my control back. Barely. I pulled back, got to my feet and dragged her to hers. Emotions rioted through me as I marched her back outside with my hand locked around her arm.

  I ripped the door open. Sunlight blinded me only for a second. The others started getting out of the black SUV. I all but dragged her out of the warehouse and to my car. I stood her beside it and met her eyes. “Stay. Here,” I bit out before letting go. “Zahur, take care of her neck.” I turned back to the warehouse, grabbing Ranulf’s battleaxe out of his hands on my way. Control, control, control. I kept hold of my fury until I was standing over the demon. Then I let it loose. I swung and swung, dismembering the demon, then chopping it into smaller pieces. Those three bloody claw marks on her obliterating my control.

  Evelyn

  What the heck just happened? Atticus strode back into the warehouse without another word. He kissed me… He yelled at me, then kissed me again. My body was still throbbing from those kisses. And he walked off like nothing happened? What?

  Zahur stopped in front of me and put the small med kit on the hood. “Any other injuries?”

  “I’m fine, just scratches,” I said, confused by Atticus. He tilted my head to the side and wiped the blood away. Zahur’s touch cooled my body off faster than ice water.

  “Scratches my ass, those are claw marks,” Zahur countered as he pulled out antiseptic wipes.

  “You alright, lass?” Ranulf asked, his voice warm. He moved to lean against the car beside me.

  “Yeah, just a little mad he got through my shield,” I admitted, angry at myself. “I mean, the claws I get, but he got through my shield with fire. That’s irritating as heck.”

  Ranulf chuckled as Falk leaned against the SUV, waiting.

  “Hold still, this will sting,” Zahur warned. He held my face in one hand and cleaned my neck with the other.

  “So, what happened in there?” Ranulf asked. I sighed.

  “Well, it looks like when it went to hide from dawn, there were a few workers inside,” I began. I looked up to meet his eyes. “They’re dead.”

  “Killed each other, eh?” Ranulf asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, “Before the fight I asked the demon why it stuck to one vampire and not the city. It had an interesting answer.” Zahur finished cleaning my neck and gave me his attention. “He said ‘orders are orders.’”

  Zahur blinked then put the trash back in the kit. “You think it was summoned?”

  “Possibly.” I shrugged. “But that’s all I got before he got uppity and I had to put him down.” Ranulf chuckled, Zahur raised an eyebrow.

  I stayed put as Zahur looked over the burn on my shoulder. It was red and about as big as a softball. It had just been a graze. He cleaned it then put aloe on it anyway.

  When he was done I glanced at the door to the warehouse. What was he doing? There was nothing left but burning the body and it shouldn’t take this long.

  “Evie, why don’t you take the SUV and head back to your place,” Zahur suggested.

  I pulled my eyes from the door. “Sure, I need pick up my car, then change and open the shop.”

  “Falk, would you go with her?” Zahur asked. Falk nodded, pushed away from the car and went to the passenger side. I opened my door and looked back at the warehouse, wondering if Atticus was alright. Remembering his kiss, my body warmed.

  “Evie.” Zahur got my attention. “He’s fine.” I doubted it, but I didn’t argue because I needed to get some distance between myself and Atticus. I nodded, then slid into the car.

  It wasn’t long until I was in my apartment. Wanting to feel better, I took a shower before pulling on a pair of black slacks, a white button up and a long, dark-green cardigan. I undid my braid and left my hair down, strands curling softly around me. I didn’t look amazing, but heck, I didn’t look bad. I was comfy and going to work. It’s what I needed right now. I slipped my feet into black ballet flats and left my room.

  Falk was quiet as I picked up my keys off the counter and headed for the door. He followed like a large shadow.

  We went downstairs and outside. I quickly found my key and unlocked the outside gate. Falk lifted the gate, and put it away without me having to ask.

  “Thank you
,” I muttered before unlocking the front door. I hurried inside and turned off the alarm. Falk closed the door as I started turning on lights.

  I loved my store. The counter, shelves and staircase were all of the same rich, dark mahogany that darkened with age. On the left wall were shelves bulging with books to the ceiling, stairs to the second floor and the balcony. Rows and rows of books were upstairs, and the walls covered by them downstairs. I smiled and took a deep breath. The smell of old books calmed me like nothing I’ve found in my life.

  I flipped the open sign around and headed to the back where my small office was. I turned on the electric kettle needing to make tea, and sat down. I used my office phone to check my messages and put it on speaker. Three were requests for rare books, two of which I already had. A request to find a buyer for three volumes of Don Quixote here in the States. It was my usual morning. Until the eighth message.

  “Ms. De Haven, this is Mr. Gumner, the new owner of the building your bookstore currently resides in.” I rolled my eyes. I had been dodging this creep for weeks. “I would like to meet with you regarding your late rent for the last three months. Please call me back at 555-2424. Thank you.”

  I growled at the phone and shut off the speaker. I knew exactly what Gumner wanted, he had jacked up the rent on my shop to kick me out so he could do whatever he wanted with the space. I hadn’t been able to make the rent for the last three months. My plan of avoiding him had been working so far. But it looked like my time was running out. Crap.

  I turned on the computer in my office and checked my schedule. Two deliveries from that estate sale a month ago. The man had been a world renowned collector and his catalogue of books had been amazing. I closed my eyes and sighed. I had put a lot of money on the line for those books, and now I had to find buyers. If I wanted to stay in business, that is.

  The kettle whistled. I got up and went to it. “Falk, would you like some tea?”

  Boots moved over the worn wood as he came to the office.

  “Please,” he said. I set about making tea.

  “So, what would you be doing now if Zahur didn’t order you to watch me?” I asked, looking for a way to break the silence.

  “Investigating,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  “Sorry I’m keeping you from it,” I said.

  “I don’t mind,” he said, his rough voice quiet. I looked over my shoulder to him. He was leaning against the doorjamb. Okay… I finished making his tea then passed him his mug before making mine. When I was done I moved to step through the doorway. “Excuse me.” I slipped by him and moved behind the counter, then took a sip of my tea. Ooh. Goodness. Coffee was wonderful, but it really took a good cup of tea to start my day. I set my mug down as I started up the front counter computer.

  “Who’s Gumner?” he asked, his voice only rough this time.

  I focused on opening the safe behind the counter. “He’s the new owner of the building.” I opened the safe and checked to see if I had room for the rarer books. I didn’t. I sighed.

  “And you’re avoiding him?” His voice was moving.

  “He raised the rent on the store space, so I’m probably going to be forced to move out. But now I’m three months behind and he’s adding fees and I-I need to pay it off in full for even the possibility of staying,” I explained as I carefully pulled out several of the less rare books. “I really don’t want to lose this space, I’ve been here forty years. So I need to sell quickly, which means less money for each book-” I turned, and all but ran into him. He took the books from my arms carefully, then set them down on the counter.

  “What can I do to help?” he asked, his voice growing gravelly again. The backdoor buzzer rang through the shop.

  I sighed. “You can help me get these crates in and the books inventoried.”

  He nodded.

  “Thank you,” I said gratefully before heading to the back of the shop. Falk was one step behind.

  It wasn’t long before the crates were in the back of the store. Falk didn’t even bother with the dolly. He just picked one up and took it inside. The delivery guys were stunned when he came back and did it again. I just thanked them before they left. Since I didn’t have a store room, Falk had left the crates in the back of the store near my office.

  I pulled out a crowbar and started opening one of the large crates. Once it was opened, I carefully took out the padding. There they were. My last hope for the store. I pulled them out carefully, one by one. Excellent bindings, gilding, they were in beautiful shape. I started thinking about the fastest way to sell, or the most profitable. Weighing my options. I took a stack of books to the counter and began adding them to the inventory and my online catalogue. When I was done with that stack I looked up to find the counter covered. Falk had been busy.

  “Falk?” I called. I didn’t get an answer but my phone vibrated. I checked it.

  Falk: Yeah?

  I blinked at the screen. He was barely over fifteen feet from me, and he texted?

  “Um, thank you for bringing the books up,” I said uncertainly. My phone vibrated again.

  Falk: You’re welcome.

  I tucked my phone away and went back to adding books. But it kept bothering me. He texted me instead of saying anything. It had to be the scar tissue on his throat. How did he manage without being able to speak? I walked out from behind the counter and its stack of books. Falk was still unloading the crates as I walked up to him.

  “Falk, does it hurt to talk?” I asked carefully. He turned, his dark eyes finding me as he nodded. “So, if I started asking you questions, then I’d just be annoying you?” He frowned, pulled out his phone and typed. My phone vibrated.

  Falk: No, it’s just frustrating that I can’t answer. And I hate typing. Big fingers, small buttons.

  I smiled at that. His lips twitched as he looked at the shelves. Was that an almost smile? It was. Wow. Falk could smile. He looked back down at his phone and typed. My phone vibrated.

  Falk: Ask anything you like.

  I smiled as he leaned against the crate. He must have known Atticus for years, so the urge to ask about him was almost overwhelming. As I tried to come up with a question a thought occurred to me. I could do something to help communicate with Falk.

  “Falk,” I said quietly. He met my eyes. “There is something I can do to make it so you can communicate easier. But it could feel… invasive.” His brow drew down before he began typing.

  Falk: What can you do? And what do you mean by invasive?

  I licked my lips before answering. “I could heal some of your internal scar tissue.”

  He raised an eyebrow then began texting.

  Falk: The healers at home said there is nothing that can be done.

  “They aren’t me.” I hated to say it, but I was good. Darn good. I could use telepathy, but that was much more intimate than I wanted to get with Falk. He started texting.

  Falk: Can you explain more?

  I smiled and looked up at him. “I can heal a wound in minutes. With scar tissue it’s more difficult and takes longer, but I can make it easier. And soothe your throat.”

  He thought about it for several heartbeats before sighing and texting me.

  Falk: I’ll try anything once.

  I tucked my phone into my pocket and stepped closer. “Okay, I’m going to touch your throat and see what I am working with.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “I use energy to see what is going on in your body, like a sonogram does with sound,” I explained. He nodded.

  I rested my hands awkwardly on both sides of his throat. I closed my eyes and focused.

  I poured energy through my hands and into his throat. The tissue soaked up the energy like dye and showed me what was there. He had suffered one deep slash across his larynx, cutting the vocal cords. As I looked at the damage I was amazed that he survived. A healer had to have been nearby when it happened, otherwise he’d be dead.

  I opened my mental barriers a little and reached out w
ith a thought. “You have a lot of scar tissue on your cords. It’s limiting their movement,” I sent to him. “I’m going to try and smooth some of it out. It might feel warm.”

  He swallowed hard but didn’t say anything or take my hands from his throat, so I assumed that was permission. I channeled more energy through my hands and into his throat. Like a river over rock, I gently poured energy over the scar tissue. The irritation I could soothe any time he needed, but this I needed to wear down over time so I didn’t do more damage. I watched his cords carefully, I lost track of time.

  When the increase in blood flow started working for his vocal cords I stopped. I closed my barriers, opened my eyes and braced myself for a moment against the crate. “Give it a shot. Tell me how it feels.”

  He swallowed hard. “I’m not really one for small talk.” His voice was slightly rough. “It’s easier to talk.”

  I smiled. “Good. Over time I might be able to get it so you can talk all the time, but until then I can soothe the irritation any time you need.” His obsidian eyes met mine.

  “Thank you,” he said. “You don’t know what-”

  “Yeah, I do,” I said. “It would be a nightmare not to be able to say my piece.” I looked around at the store. “Let’s get back to work.”

  Atticus

  It was three o’clock and I was standing across the street from the bookstore. Falk had called asking someone to bring lunch for him and Evelyn. Falk had called.

  Apparently, Evelyn had training in healing as well as fighting, and tracking... and telepathy. It left me wondering what other abilities she had. My mind flashed to the warehouse. Stop it, Atticus.

  I stood across the street holding two boxes from the deli a few blocks away, watching her through the store window as she worked on the computer at the counter. She occasionally said something to Falk, but otherwise she worked quietly.