Gargoyles called it breakfast, because it broke their fast after exiting their roost. The meal was prepared by mated gargoyles and served just after sunset. Once a gargoyle bonded with their mate, he went through a painful process called molt, which gave them the ability to turn into a human form.
Kort often imagined what he’d end up looking like in human form. With his deep red hide, white claws and wings, lavender eyes, and white hair that he kept in a short buzz cut, he hoped he didn’t end up looking like a freak or something. Odd-looking in one form should be enough, right?
Shaking his head at his ridiculous musings, Kort pushed the door open to the dining hall and headed inside. The myriad of scents assaulted his senses. His stomach grumbled in anticipation as he enjoyed the wide range of smells, from apple-wood smoked bacon to cheesy scrambled eggs and everything in between.
Heading toward the line at the buffet, Kort grinned and nodded at his fellow gargoyles. He received grunts, waved forks, and nods in return. Anticipation for food filled him when he reached the buffet and took in the spread.
Yum!
“Kort,” Einan greeted, stopping next to him. The head gargoyle enforcer held a full plate of food in one hand and a steaming mug of coffee in the other.
“Einan,” Kort greeted back as he picked up a plate.
“After you get your food, come join me,” Einan quietly ordered. “I need to speak with you.”
Kort immediately nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
For a few seconds, he watched the big, gray gargoyle. The enforcer joined Cornelius, a blond, six-foot rhino shifter who was Einan’s mate. The shifter fell into step beside the gargoyle and they headed to wherever they were going to sit.
Turning his focus to the food, Kort quickly filled his plate. He chose strips of bacon and sausage links, crispy shredded hash browns, along with a heap of cheddar cheese topped scrambled eggs. After placing an English muffin on top of the mound, Kort turned and scanned the room.
He spotted Einan and his mate seated at a table in the corner. The clutch’s doctor, Perseus, also sat there, as well as his mate, Wren Cleaver. The pair had recently mated and any time the doctor wasn’t on duty—according to the rumors Kort had heard—he could be found at a restaurant in town that the human owned and operated.
Maybe someday I’ll be able to check it out.
Reaching the table, Kort saw Einan push out one of the two remaining chairs with his foot. He followed the enforcer’s silent order and eased onto the chair, setting his plate in front of him. Next, he grabbed an empty coffee mug from the stack in the middle of the table, picked up the carafe beside them, and poured himself a mug-full.
“Morning, guys,” Kort greeted.
He picked up his fork and stabbed a piece of sausage. Instead of popping it into his mouth, he picked up his knife and began slicing the meat. He did the same to the bacon slices, then began mixing all his food together, adding in a small amount of ketchup.
“What can I do for you, Einan?” Kort asked curiously before shoveling a bite of his concoction into his mouth. If they were discussing it during the morning meal in the middle of the dining hall, it couldn’t be too serious. “Do you need to change my assignment?” Recently, he’d alternated between cooking duties and gardening work.
“Treatise is on his way over, too,” Einan told him. “I’ll explain once he gets here.” His thick brow ridges lowered as he stared at the pile of mixed food on Kort’s plate. “Why do you like it like that?”
Kort swallowed his food, then grinned widely. “Why do you like cream and sugar in your coffee?” he teased, reaching for his black cup of joe. “Some people just happen to think flavors taste better together.”
Shaking his head, Einan turned back to his own food. Cornelius snickered. “Well, I love mixing my food, too,” he admitted, stabbing his fork into his over-easy egg and opening the partially cooked yolk.
“I thought that was only when you’re pregnant,” Einan muttered, his tone sounding concerned. “A-Are you, uh... pregnant again?”
Cornelius swallowed and winked. “No, big man,” he assured. “You just thought that because you knocked me up the second you met me,” he said, snickering. “So you blamed anything you thought was weird on me being pregnant.”
Kort smirked as he glanced between the pair. He bit back a snort upon seeing Einan’s visibly relieved look. It was true, though. The pair hadn’t even been together two weeks when Cornelius had ended up pregnant. Cornelius, for his part, had been ecstatic. Einan had been more than a little shell-shocked.
Now that Cornelius had laid the egg, Einan seemed to be coming to grips with his impending fatherhood. Any time the enforcer held the egg, it was easy to see how much he loved the idea of a child. Most gargoyles felt that way, since they could only reproduce if they found their soul mate. Children were treated with love and guidance in a clutch.
Still, every once in a while, when Einan talked about his egg’s impending hatching, he got this expression on his face. It was something Kort had never seen on the big enforcer before. If Kort didn’t miss his guess, the look was one of absolute terror.
Of course, Kort would never call the man on it. He liked his wings attached, thank you very much.
Kort hoped whoever his mate was wanted kids.
“I still can’t get over the idea of men getting pregnant,” Wren muttered, his brows creasing. “That is so... odd.”
Perseus leaned over and bumped his shoulder into Wren’s. He grinned at his lover. “You’ll get used to the idea, love,” he rumbled. “I bet in fifty years, you’ll be begging me to impregnate you.”
Wren started, his body jerking as he struggled to keep his food in his mouth. Finally, as his eyes watered and his Adam’s apple bobbed, he managed to swallow it. Holding his hand in front of his mouth, he coughed harshly as he glared at his lover.
While several of the others attempted—and failed—to hide their snorts of amusement, Perseus patted Wren on the back.
Still scowling, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, Wren reached across the table to grab the water pitcher.
Kort leaned forward and pushed it closer to the flushed, coughing human. Catching an unfamiliar scent, he froze. He couldn’t ever remember smelling the sweet and tart apple scent before now. It reminded him of fresh baked apple pie... and also caused his prick to thicken and his blood to heat.
Jerking backward, Kort sat up straight. He gaped for an instant, then snapped his mouth shut.
Holy fuck. Please tell me I did not just get aroused by Perseus’ mate.
That made no sense to him.
Fortunately, Treatise grabbed the remaining empty chair and, scraping it across the hardwood floor, pulled it out. At the same time, he settled his plate on the table. He sat down, then lifted the coffee carafe, a mug, and poured himself some coffee.
“So, Kort looks gut-kicked,” Treatise commented as he stirred in a packet of sugar. The deep yellow gargoyle turned his attention to their enforcer. “Does that have something to do with what you need us for, Einan?”
“Nooo,” Einan said, drawing the word out. He gave Kort a concerned look. “You okay, Kort?” He smirked. “Your mixture not going down too well?”
Kort snapped his attention to the teasing pair, both focused on him. Offering a rakish grin, he filled his fork with a bit of bacon, hash brown, and egg. “I’m good,” he told them, shoving the food into his mouth so he didn’t have to say more. He’d prefer to talk to Perseus and Wren in private. There had to be a reason for his odd, sudden reaction.
Einan lifted one brow ridge, his expression skeptical. Still, he grabbed a piece of bacon and pointed it at Wren as he started talking. “Wren spent the afternoon in the hospital. It seems one of his employees, Mace Capston, ended up dating the wrong man.” He growled softly under his breath. “His wrist was broken in one place and a couple of cracks in the bones in two other places.”
Treatise’s hand froze halfway
to his mouth and he let out a low growl. “Who’s the asshole?” the big male snarled. “Do you need us to catch him in a dark alley and give him a taste of his own medicine?”
Kort had never been a particularly violent male, but at that moment, he agreed with his fellow gargoyle. He also felt an intense urge to find this injured Mace Capston and hold him until he felt better. Then, something Einan said registered with him. Wren had spent the morning at the hospital with this Mace fellow?
“No, Treatise,” Einan countered. “As tempting as that is, we can’t take the law into our own hands for someone not part of our clutch.” He took a bite of his bacon, swallowed, then added, “Besides, Detective DeSoto took his statement and—”
“Wait,” Kort interrupted, turning his attention to Wren. “You were, uh—” He paused, realizing he’d just cut off his enforcer. He felt his face flush with embarrassment, and he felt grateful for his red skin. Clearing his throat and glancing around the table, he couldn’t help but refocus on Perseus’ human. “You were at the hospital with this, uh, Mace?” he asked. After a clearly confused Wren nodded once, Kort pressed, “So, uh, you shook hands or put your arm around him or something?”
Wren’s bushy, dark brows shot up. He scratched his bearded chin as he muttered, “Uh, yeah. Put my arm around him to help him in and out of my truck, plus get him in his house and comfortable.” His brows slowly lowered as he pressed, “Why?” He smirked. “You’re about vibrating in your chair there, Kort.”
Unable to deny it, Kort just jerked a nod as he swallowed hard. “Uh, you have a scent on you that, uh, I’d really like to find the source of,” he admitted. “Were you in close contact with anyone else?” By the time he got done speaking, his face felt as if it was on fire.
After exchanging a look with Perseus, Wren shifted in his seat and pulled out his wallet. He opened the billfold and slid a business card from a slot. Next, he pulled a pen from his pocket and scribbled a few words on the back. Wren slid it across the table to him.
Kort placed his forefingers on the card and slid it toward him. He saw that Wren had written an address on it.
“According to Mace, he dated a man named Jessup Santiago for a few weeks,” Wren told those at the table, “but as soon as they became—” He paused and cleared his throat as he looked Kort’s way. “Intimate... Jessup became demanding and controlling, and when Mace didn’t step to his tune, he began hurting him.” Wren’s face clouded. “I wish he’d said something when it first started.”
Fighting his desire to grab the business card and take off to find the human, Kort checked his need to smell the human first hand. Instead, he covered the card with his palm and turned his focus to Einan. His food forgotten, he wrapped his other hand around his coffee mug and lifted his brows at the other gargoyle.
Einan was frowning at him, but his features softened when Cornelius reached over and rubbed his upper arm. The enforcer smiled at his mate for a few seconds. Grunting, he turned to glance from Kort to Treatise and back again.
“Well, let me know if Mace ends up being your mate,” Einan ordered.
Kort jerked a nod, excitement filling him. At least it replaced the mild arousal he’d felt upon inhaling the slight whiff of what must have been Mace’s scent. He knew everyone considered him the playboy of the mansion, but the truth was... Kort was a virgin.
Always able to talk a good game, Kort flirted with just about every available male that came through the estate’s doors. He’d even taken some really nice long walks in the garden with some of them. Still, he’d never actually done much more than that. Even kissing had been, well, pecks.
Having overheard the talk, Kort knew others had asked his dates about how it went. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what they’d wanted to know. To his pleasure, so far, all his dates had called him a gentleman who had showed them a wonderful time.
Now, Kort couldn’t believe that he could possibly be scenting his mate.
“Are you paying attention, Kort?” Einan barked.
Kort jerked his gaze away from his coffee. “Uh, no,” he admitted, feeling his face heat. “Sorry.”
Einan grumbled under his breath, then snapped, “Fine. Work with Treatise to create a schedule to monitor Mace during the evening hours.” He offered Treatise a wry smile. “Your job just might have gotten a little bit harder.” He smirked as he rose from his chair. “I’ll have Sapian, Golren, and Caladon touch base with you, too,” he told him, referencing a mated gargoyle enforcer and two local boa constrictor shifters. “They’ll be handling the day shift.”
Nodding, Kort looked at Treatise. The other gargoyle offered him a commiserating smile. By the time he looked back, Einan was guiding Cornelius away from the table and toward the dining hall’s exit. Concerned that he’d offended the clutch’s head enforcer, Kort debated going after him.
Perseus rested his hand on his shoulder, gripping lightly and gaining Kort’s attention. “Relax. He’s a little stressed out about his egg. It’s due to hatch any day now, and he doesn’t want to leave it alone for long.” He grimaced and exchanged a look with Wren. “I know he wouldn’t have left his quarters to eat if Wren and I hadn’t asked for assistance.”
Kort nodded quickly. “Right. Okay,” he replied, relieved it wasn’t his actions that had Einan on edge. He offered Wren a smile. “Even if Mace isn’t my mate, I’ll keep a good watch on him.”
Wren nodded slowly, then warned, “If he is your mate, go slow.” He grimaced, glancing down at the table, then he lifted his gaze and told him, “This has really made him, well, skittish and distrustful.”
Nodding again, Kort wondered, if Mace was his mate, just how difficult would it be to get the human to trust a winged beast?
Chapter Three
Mace groaned.
Two days of restlessness were beginning to take their toll.
He’d tried to fall asleep, first in his bed, then on his sofa with the TV on. When he’d felt lonely in the past, he’d always been able to doze on the sofa. With the ache in his arm, not so much.
While Mace knew he was overdue for his next set of meds, he remembered what a lightweight he was. He feared what would happen if he fell asleep and Jessup forced his way into his house. Mace didn’t know if his ex’s threat that they weren’t through was valid or not, but the fear was there none-the-less.
Just in case, Mace wanted to be lucid.
Mace decided a hefty dose of ibuprofen would have to work instead. Unfortunately, that only took the edge off the painful sensations coursing through him. He still felt as if he could feel every pulse of his blood through his fingers.
At least I don’t see black spots.
Trying to see the bright side, Mace pushed to a sitting position. He breathed deeply, waiting for the mild wave of pain to pass. Once he felt, not okay, really, but not about to pass out, he rocked to his feet. He tucked his casted arm to his chest and shuffled to the kitchen. Ever-so-slowly, Mace brewed a cup of chamomile tea.
Mace finished making his tea and looked out into the darkness. Over the last couple of days, he’d had just about every waiter, waitress, and every other staff member he worked with stop by his small, rented, one-bedroom home. He liked it, sort of.
Now, though, at ten o’clock at night and not able to sleep, he felt more alone than ever.
Shuffling to the back door, Mace gritted his teeth as he hugged his mug to his chest with his casted hand and pushed open the entrance with his left hand. He did his best to ignore the way the exertion on one arm managed to radiate pressure on the other. Why did it have to do that?
Mace stepped through, then closed the door most of the way. He left it cracked to make it easier to reopen on his way back inside his place. After sliding his bare feet into a pair of sandals that he’d left beside the back door, he wandered through the back yard.
One of the reasons he’d chosen this small, cottage style home was that it was on the edge of town. It backed up to a slice of for
est with walking paths cut throughout it. The forest connected with protected land and even more hiking trails.
Glancing down at his t-shirt-covered belly, Mace grimaced. Not that he ever used them as shown by his rounded gut. Still, he had a wooden swing near the back edge of his small yard and he loved staring into the trees. He’d even installed bird houses and squirrel feeders and a small fountain. Mace liked to think that his little slice of heaven was a safe haven for little woodland creatures.
Mace had even managed to take a picture of a fox drinking out of his fountain. Then, he’d had to look away as the animal turned and stalked a squirrel. He didn’t want to know if the fox had successfully eaten the little animal.
Cycle of nature, he reminded himself.
Settling sideways on the wooden swing, Mace placed his left foot flat on the ground for leverage. He moved his right foot up to lie along the other half of the wooden bench seat. Placing his casted arm along the back of the swing, he let out a soft sigh as he tried to relax his back on the cushion he’d left there the evening before.
Mace had checked the weather app on his phone, so hadn’t bothered to bring the small pillow inside the house.
After taking a sip of his chamomile tea, he rested the mug on his thigh. He stared vacantly into the woods. The dark shadows of the trees felt soothing somehow, like they were watching out for him.
Weird.
It took around fifteen minutes for Mace to realize he didn’t hear any night creatures. The silence shouldn’t have been so relaxing. An instant later, he realized he’d felt the exact same way the evening before. That was why he’d decided to come out again that evening.
Due to his fear of Jessup coming around, Mace knew he should have been holed up in his little cottage. He should have his doors and windows closed and locked. Instead, he was out there, in the dark, listening to... nothing.
Why am I enjoying this so much?
Mace didn’t know. Now that he thought about it, he began to feel a little nervous. Shifting in his seat, his arm slipped off the backrest. The wood pressed into his arm uncomfortably, and he hissed in pain as he moved his arm back into place.
Kort’s Treasure Page 2