by Jo Penn
“Yes, he is. And always surprising us when he actually graces us with his company. You have somewhere else to be, Vinncent Aston? Other than here with family?”
Damn gargoyles with all their senses. Nothing was private.
“Vinn wished to chase up on a comment some dumbass made nearly twenty years ago,” Eber murmured. “It has been followed up.”
Dimitri studied Vinn. Normally when such a predator locked eyes on you, backing down fast would be the wisest choice. Vinn didn’t know that type of fear. He smiled slowly and raised his brow instead, earning a grunt from Dimitri and a head shake. Vinn was the predator. He was a big, powerful demon that had been trained by probably the deadliest creatures in existence, Avenger Vicus Aston.
“It is admirable, your loyalty. We all respect this. Vicus followed up, I am sure,” Dimitri assured.
“He did.” Eber studied Vinn. “But that is not the lead you are really going after, is it, brother?”
It took Vinn a moment, but as he met Eber’s hard look glare for glare, he knew what was going on. He sighed, dropping his head. Damn it, Vinn should have known he couldn’t get anything past his family. They always seemed to be one step ahead. So fucking annoying. Vicus had deliberately sent Vinn with Eber here, efficiently derailing Vinn’s personal investigation into Marc’s death and discovering all those involved.
“Stay out of it, E.”
“Not a fucking chance, Vinnie,” Eber grumbled. “Vicus is following your footsteps, he will figure out what you discovered and deal with it.”
“Gods dammit, Eber!” Vinn growled low and lethal, hands slamming down on an antique tea trolley, shattering it into a thousand pieces of glass and shards of copper. “Mine to avenge!”
“You are ours to protect,” Eber snarled. “Hands down, brother. We do not wish to accidentally harm the two felines.”
Vinn had known two felines shifters entered the room and Dareios moving to place himself between them and Vinn, possibly to protect the creatures in case Vinn lost his temper. Except that would not happen. Vicus taught Vinn well over the years, taught him confidence, skills others could only dream of having, patience, and control.
“Prick,” Vinn snapped.
Eber inclined his head. “Yeah, you hate it when taunted over control.” Eber rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, we all know you have the best control, whatever.”
Vinn smirked. “Whatever? You’ve been hanging out with Mac too much.” Vinn turned and looked at the two felines. “I will replace your tea trolley.”
“Please don’t. It was hideous and an unwanted gift.” A beautiful tiger smiled smoothly, looking around the room and nodding in greeting. “Gentlemen. I have arranged refreshments. This is Peter, he will show you to your rooms when you are ready, and if you require anything else, just let Peter or any of the staff know. If you will excuse me, I have a conference call to attend, but I hope to see you all at dinner. Please make yourselves comfortable as the Sanchez pride’s honored guests.”
“Gracias. Alessandro, where is your bear?” Dareios had that air about him that always made others go on alert and Vinn’s hair to stand on end.
Lord Alessandro Trent Sanchez’s calm smile never faltered. “He is currently in Milson City, Dareios, and please, feel free to call me Trent. Everyone does.”
Vinn sniffed the air discreetly. His body felt alert, on edge, like a thousand needles were poking into his skin. His cock went rock hard.
Hell no…he couldn’t be feeling that…could he? Astounded, confused, body alive and overriding everything but finding who the scent belonged to, Vinn growled low and deadly. The gargoyles immediately went on alert, rising and rushing him. Vinn threw up illusions, interactive ones, and using his natural speed he moved in front of Trent Sanchez and took a deep sniff, the tiger watching him, analyzing everything Vinn did but did not move to defend himself or fight Vinn off. He would think about why that was later, why a well-trained tiger shifter, a Commander for the Alliance, didn’t defend or attack. Right now, his body screamed at him.
“I detest your illusions, Vinncent.”
A demon’s illusions could be anything from playful to deadly. Vinn had thrown warrior demon illusions at the gargoyles, which were not playful in the least. They fought like a demon, thought like a demon, and had magic, though it was muted, easily dealt with by other powerful creatures. Demon illusions were not to be trifled with. They could seriously maim and kill, depending on the caster’s intensions. It would be like fighting a real demon.
Vinn had been focused exclusively on the scent that warmed and tingled his entire being and wasn’t prepared for Dimitri. The big, deadly brute grabbed hold of him and with swiftness and immense strength, forced Vinn face first on the ground, hands behind his back with the gargoyle’s gift containing Vinn’s.
Like all paranormals, shifters and gargoyles had supernatural speed, agility, hearing, sight, and healing. They also had gifts. With demons, there were different types though they all had the common ability to cast illusions. Each demon type had their own gift, plus they had a little magic for spell casting. Not pleasant spells, no, demon spells were deadly and harmful. It was one of the reasons, along with their types of gifts, which caused superstitions and such fear of his kind.
Eber crouched beside them and tugged Vinn’s hair. “What are you scenting, Vinnie?”
Vinn stopped fighting and lay still, staring straight ahead. He was confused, concerned, and suddenly not sure. Was he mistaken? No, he knew the feeling, knew what he scented, why his body reacted as it had. Mate. He finally found his other mate after all these years. Or actually, he scented his mate, he had yet to locate the creature.
But did Vinn want this? Want another mate? Gods, the thought filled him with excitement and dread. It had taken so long to pick himself up after what happened to Marc, to come out of the misery and pain of his mate’s death, Vinn wasn’t sure he could move forward enough to care for someone else, let the creature close.
“Nothing,” Vinn growled, trying to dislodge Dimitri. The gargoyle didn’t budge.
“You know we scent lies, Vinn,” Bruno murmured. “From your scent, I would say you had a strong reaction, a mate reaction. Not the assistant, you didn’t go near him. You sniffed Trent.” Bruno smiled at Dare, who was blocking the doorway, stopping Trent from leaving. “The sexy shifter, though, isn’t having a mate reaction. He just wants away from all of us but is too polite to say it.”
“Vinn?” Eber asked quietly, concerned.
Pulled up by Dimitri—Gods the gargoyle was strong!—Vinn sighed and met his brother’s eyes. Letting Eber see his pain and anguish. His wants, his needs, and yes, his fear.
Dareios leaned forward and took a sniff of Trent, who was watching all this with interest and raised his arm, sniffing himself.
“I have a few scents on me. I will be happy to introduce Vinn to all I have brushed up against to aid in the search if that is what he wants.” Trent glanced at his watch. “Acquiring a mate can be an…adjustment, shall we say? I will have the teleconference postponed and make some time now for introductions, and then I must return to my cousin.”
“Yeah, see, those little comments make my spidey senses zing!” Anton grinned. “Acquiring a mate can be an adjustment.”
“Yes, Vinncent wants those introductions,” Dimitri stated firmly.
“You have had a shock, brother. Just remember your vow.” Eber placed a hand on Vinn’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “This is good, Vinnie. We have your back. Let’s go check out these felines and see which one is yours to claim.”
“Don’t need to.” Vinn straightened to his full six-foot-seven height. He was over the shock now, his mind clearing, he knew what was right and what he wanted. Turning, he waited for Trent to give his full attention. “How many relatives do you have here at the compound?”
Trent’s electric blue eyes lit up, and a smile spread. “A relative? I have a dozen or so cousins and second cousins. All of them I have seen today, unfort
unately.”
“Unfortunately?” Dimitri frowned at the shifter. “Family is most important, feline.”
Trent smiled smoothly, distracting with his charm and looks. “A joke, gargoyle. Now, shall we meet my cousins? Some felines have more than one mate, it isn’t uncommon for my kind to have two fated mates, so be prepared there may be two that are yours.”
“That will not be possible,” Vinn said flatly. “There will be no other mate. The scent I am interested in smells of aged brandy and clean forests. Male. And injured, healing slowly. Medicines. Take me to Emile, Trent.”
“Holy fucking shit! You get the Prestigious Prince? You lucky son of a bastard!” Bruno exclaimed. “Man, I’m happy for you, cousin.”
Vinn inclined his head, but he’d been watching Trent. The tiger didn’t give away much, there had only been a minute twitch. Without a word, the feline shifter stepped around Dare, who moved out of the way, and like a procession they followed the absurdly stunning creature through the large compound, gargoyles flanking Vinn.
As they turned a corner, Trent raised a hand and nodded at a soldier.
“Grande, soldier.”
“Yes, sir, Commander!”
An alarm went off in the compound, the noise so loud it could shatter eardrums. Before Vinn and the gargoyles had a chance to comprehend what was happening, soldiers were descending from all over the vast complex, and Trent was gone.
“He ain’t known as the best strategist ever born for nothin’,” Bruno grumbled, slamming a hand into a tiger’s chest.
* * * *
“Why are the alarms blaring, cousin? And why do you appear to be out of breath?” Emile studied Trent curiously over the top of his laptop that was propped on a lap table in front of him.
As he was unable to leave the bed at present, this set up would have to suffice. At least he was able to do some work.
“Forewarning, Emile. I can only provide a few moments, unfortunately, but that will have to do.” Trent collected a bottle of water from the small fridge in the wardrobe and sat in the chair beside the bed. “I’m unsure if you have met all the Aston’s. You know Vicus, Lacy, River, and possibly Layke?”
“I do. I also know Vicus’s new mates, Ran and Deakin, as well as Eber who is a cousin to the Surkov’s. Is there a situation, Trent?”
“Possibly. It depends entirely on you. Have you ever heard of a Vinncent Aston?”
Unsure where this was leading but understanding there was always a reason and a system with Trent, the man never did anything without a particular purpose and reason, Emile patiently went along with what his cousin required.
“I have. He is a rare demon. Demons are very nearly extinct, similar to the dragon shifters. Vinncent Aston was adopted by the Aston’s when he was ten and has been trained as an assassin and works for the Alliance. He is also a mechanic.”
“Good. That helps. Eber and Vinncent arrived a short time ago, I assume to lend support to the Surkov’s. After a brief discussion, Vinncent caught a scent on me and had a mate reaction. He believes you are his mate, Emile.”
It took a few moments for Emile to fully process what Trent said and when he did, he was assaulted by various thoughts and feelings. While most paranormals searched and longed for a mate, Emile had not. He was not against finding a mate, nor avoided finding the one fate choose from him, unlike his littermate Dominic who had been quite a player before meeting the vampire Chane Taunton and mating. No, Emile was only busy. A mate was demanding and would mess with Emile’s orderly ways. The mere thought of such a thing happening made him shift uncomfortably and have to calm himself with thoughts of securely locking up everything with a dozen locks and laser security.
There certainly was much to consider if indeed this demon was Emile’s mate. He was not provided with more time to analyze and consider the various impacts of this situation as the door to his suite burst open and Dimitri tossed a feline soldier outside. Creatures trooped into the room, Dimitri closing the door after them.
Along with the gargoyles, marching toward him was a tall, solid creature with inky black hair, dark skin, a built, hard body and as Emile noted when the creature drew closer cool, distant, very light silver eyes. Not handsome by classic standards, more impressive with strong features. The creature was big and hard-looking. Lethal. Emile had seen photographs of the demon in the file he sighted on all the Aston’s, one that was shredded immediately for confidentiality reasons. Even then he found it difficult to destroy the picture or put it aside. At the time he found the creature intriguing, even handsome, in a hard way. Maybe it was because Emile always had a thing for The Rock. Big, muscular, very male.
“How are you feeling, Emile?” Dareios asked cordially.
“Recovering slowly. Trent has told me there is an issue of scent.” Emile tapped save on his computer, eyes trailing over the big demon. “Perhaps you have mixed my scent with another creature’s. You are young. It happens occasionally I am told–”
“I scent mate. You.” Vinncent Aston looked pale beneath his beautiful dark complexion.
Up close Emile could see it was more a dark caramel color rather than ebony. His eyes narrowed on Anton.
“Please do not move the monitor, Anton.”
Anton held his hands up, grinning. “Sorry, just wanted to see what you’re looking at.”
Watching the gargoyle a moment longer to ensure the creature did not mess with the monitor’s position, Emile returned his focus to the demon and managed a tired, though understanding smile for the creature.
“That is not possible, Mr. Aston. As you can clearly see I do not have a mate reaction to yourself. I wish you well–”
“You were injured when the bomb released the chemical, right?”
While he may have a fair amount of patience, right now Emile was tired. He sympathized with the demon, he could imagine it to be hard thinking you found your mate only to be disappointed, but the creature must face facts and Emile was not in the right state to give any type of support or concern.
So he sighed tiredly and waved a hand dismissively before looking to his cousin. “I do not wish to deal with this, Tre.”
“Of course, cousin.” Trent stood and faced the creatures who invaded Emile’s private domain. “Let’s go back to the—”
“Now wait a Gods damn minute!” Vinncent exclaimed.
Emile coughed, his head swimming. “Leave.”
Trent caught Emile as he weakly flopped to the side and gently propped him against the mountain of pillows. Whatever the chemical was the Renegades placed inside the bomb certainly had a horrible effect on Emile’s body. He wasn’t sure if he would recover properly.
The bed dipped, but Emile could not get his body to do more than wiggle his fingers and open his eyes slightly. Silver eyes studied him, a big hand cradling the back of his head as fingers traced his cheek and mouth.
“Mate.” The big demon leaned forward and sniffed Emile, surprisingly soft lips brushing his cheek. “I kept my vow. I found you.”
“No, you’re mistaken. Emile would have a reaction if he were your mate,” Trent argued softly.
“Not if the chemical has disrupted Emile’s system,” Bruno said sharply. “Anton and Dare are suffering from loss of scent, and they only received a minuscule dose of that crap. Emile and Valiant were drenched in it. Could be why Val refuses to feed. He can’t scent. The taste would be wrong or not there.”
That did make sense to Emile. He was having great difficulty scenting and smelling anything since waking, and nothing tasted as it should, some things having no taste. That could mean Vinncent Aston was his mate.
Frowning over this, Emile studied the demon as others in the room rushed about and talked. Linc arrived and was snarled at by Vinncent when the medic anxiously asked the creature to move aside, Emile just able to hear Trent and Eber reassuring the demon, and then Linc was checking Emile over and giving a sedative and pain reliever. Was it possible? Could Vinncent be mistaken? Emile’s mind ran over itself
and throbbed.
A moment later everything went dark and quiet.
Chapter Three
When Emile next regained consciousness, the voices murmuring around him were familiar. It took a little while to wake fully and open his eyes, to understand what was being said and stay in focus. He felt a slight pinch in his right arm and looked over. A drip, attached to a blood bag.
“How do you feel?” a deep, gravelly voice asked quietly.
Glancing beyond the drip, Emile focused on the demon as memories flooded him. He sniffed but again smelled nothing.
“Disorientated. Weak. Irritated. Where is my computer?”
“Safely locked up. Your cousin Trent saw to that. Your family has arrived. The doctors flushed your system and hooked you up to the blood. Apparently, it’s from stocks of yours and your mothers.” Vinncent leaned forward, chin resting on joined hands. “I saw you sometimes in Milson City. Always paid attention. I should have thought of why that would be, as I very rarely even felt a fraction of what I did for you with anyone else.” Light silver eyes pinned Emile intently. “I know you can’t scent me because of this chemical shit from the gas bomb, but feline shifters are aware of their mates via other senses, also.”
The demon’s direct approach and very succinct explanation of what had occurred since Emile was last awake intrigued him. He did enjoy direct, but often didn’t find it, except from his immediate family, and they were usually too direct in telling him what they felt he should be doing. In return, they said the same about him.
“That may be true. Unfortunately, the chemical has caused numerous problems that have affected my senses.”
“Do you doubt I tell the truth?”
The demon didn’t flinch. Didn’t threaten with body language or tone. And his eyes gave away nothing. Emile continued to study the man, not answering immediately, taking his time.
And what he realized made him sigh. This was what humans must feel like when a paranormal claimed them. Humans did not have the advantage of being able to recognize a mate via their senses. They were blindsided by a creature suddenly pouncing and declaring they were mates. It must be an unbelievable shock, and sometimes not a pleasant one, not when their entire life may be changed entirely.