She poked him in the chest to get him to back up. “Your baby sister is twenty-six years old and lives on her own! Do I stomp over to your house to see what kind of hussy you are shacking up with?”
“We aren’t talking about me!”
“Well, we aren’t talking about me, either! My sex life is none of your concern.”
He groaned, putting his hands up over her ears like he could block the words. “I don’t want to hear my little sister use that word again.”
“Grow up. You’re the one trying to insinuate yourself into my life. Don’t act like you can’t handle it.”
They eyed each other, both refusing to back down. Hands on hips, he said, “This isn’t right.”
Realization struck Larissa and she looked down to see her stance mirroring her brother’s. They really were a lot alike.
Of course they were. They were family.
Larissa drew a deep breath, releasing the tension. She walked up to him and patted his chest, causing her brother to drop his hands to his sides. “I love all you guys. More than that, I like you all, and your approval means so much to me. But don’t you feel it too? That sometimes it’s too much, that you need a break from the family and their expectations, that you need your own life and freedom? Michael, you had to, you’re the one who left us first.”
Her brother’s gaze slid across the floor, taking in her words. Her brother had been gone for eight years in the military, the only family member who left the neighborhood.
Her father had been so proud of his boy, talking to everyone about how his son had signed up, but Larissa saw it in him, the constant worry, the dread that gave him an ulcer and had him eating antacids like candy.
None of the rest of them ever left after that.
And Larissa would swear that the happiest she had ever seen her father was when Michael announced he was coming back and joining the police force.
“Larissa, is it serious with this guy?” Time to proceed with caution. If her brother thought Terak was trying to take advantage of her, he would go into the other room and dangle her guest off the balcony.
He wouldn’t drop Terak though.
Probably.
“I’m not sure what we have together yet. I do know he’s special to me. And I know, even if we separate, I will never regret him.”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, and Larissa knew she won. “Baby sister, you’re killing me. Dad’s going to scent I’m hiding something and he’s going to make my life hell.”
She gave him a hug. “Thank you.”
He returned the hug, but then grabbed her by the shoulders and set her back from him, looking deep into her eyes. “You have a little time, but only a little. Figure out what you want, then either move on or the family has to meet him.”
He sighed again, moving toward the door. “At least this will stop Dad from putting us all on Friday shift so he can introduce you to another guy.”
The door closed. One male taken care of. Now the other to deal with.
Chapter Fourteen
Terak was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, waiting for her return.
At least he put his pants back on. As tattered as they were, it was still a lot easier on her respiratory system seeing him in those versus the white towel.
She put her hands up, a signal to please let her talk before any yelling started. “I didn’t call him. He found my ID at the park when they were investigating the attack. I’m lucky it was him, otherwise there would have been a whole squadron of cops at my door.”
His features were a shade different, softened into human lines, but the intensity of his eyes and set of his mouth was pure Terak. She’d recognize both no matter what else changed. “I know this. I am curious why you did not tell him about me?”
“Why would I? The whole reason I agreed to your people guarding me was so that I didn’t get my family involved in this mess. Running to them would kind of defeat the purpose.”
He started shaking his head, his arms coming to his sides as he propelled himself away from the wall. “Why did you not tell your brother about my abilities, that the human male in front of him is in reality a gargoyle?”
There was a strange tension in Terak, his usual intensity magnified. He was waiting for her answer, his now-clawless hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. The question of whether she should be scared popped into her head, but she pushed it away. Nothing about him scared her. What he was…was…hopeful. “Why would you even ask that? This is your secret. I would never tell anyone about this.”
Terak challenged her, that deep voice still the same in this form. “He is a protector of the human world. Information on your enemies is what any protector would wish.”
Before she could stop herself, her hands went to her hips. “There is nothing I want less than to get into another fight with a stubborn male who is trying to drive me crazy. Now, I don’t know what’s going on in that human-looking gargoyle head of yours, but quit it. You saved me multiple times. We’ve fought together. More than that, I consider you a friend, and I trust you. I would never betray a secret I discovered from my friend.”
Terak reeled back as if someone hit him. “You would call me a friend?”
He looked so adorable and bewildered, and while the smile curling her lips couldn’t be stopped, there was a pang in her chest over what this male’s life was like that the thought of someone calling him friend elicited a reaction like this. “Shocking, huh? Kind of surprised me to. Maybe that kind of stuff only becomes apparent when you’re watching someone bleed and praying he doesn’t die.”
His face held wonderment. It was if he received a rare gift, something he always wanted but never thought he would get for himself. His gaze roamed over her face, like he was committing everything in this moment to memory.
“So,” Larissa said, wanting to stop the awkwardness creeping through her skin, “how does this work? You look pretty healed up, I’d say. Does this mean you are healed as a gargoyle? Your wing was torn pretty bad.”
He shifted. Strange, this big, bad secret, but it bordered on anti-climactic seeing it in action. He went out of focus – only for a second – and then became the other form. If Larissa took a long blink she would have missed it.
She walked behind him to check his wing, stroking her hand over the membrane. It felt like leather, but that soft, luxurious leather, the kind where a jacket would cost most people’s yearly salary.
Her hand traveled to the frame. Even this was warm, his body heat coming through. The muscles bunched under her hand as she took in the area where the frame met his back. This body was that of a warrior. He was hard, perfectly formed. This body was her salvation, her sword and shield in a world that made no sense.
Tiny tremors rippled under her fingertips as she stroked down his muscles. Which shook, her hand or his back?
Her thumb brushed over the tiny hollow in his back that separated his wings. She leaned closer, breathing in his smell as she did that night where he held her in his arms. She’d been so scared that the sensation of flying was a blur. She couldn’t remember if she enjoyed it, even on a subconscious level. Would he take her flying again if she asked?
Adding more pressure, she ran her thumb down the strong curve of his spine
Would he let her follow it with her tongue?
Larissa pushed back even as her mouth parted to make the thought a reality.
Sleep, that was the ticket. She needed a break from this day in the worst way. Sleep would be good. Sleep would get her emotions back in line. Clearing her throat, she said, “You look completely healed. I’m not a nurse though, so you should have one of your people look at it.”
His muscles still trembled where she had caressed him. His lips still carried the warmth of hers. Her scent filled his nostrils.
This woman was consuming him, bit by bit. She was becoming the reason and the reward of his existence, and if he did not shield himself, everything he did not have to gi
ve would belong to her.
He turned and brought her back into his sight. She was so appealing standing there, the over-large shirt hanging from her frame, her hair still damp and laying along her back.
Her hands were twisting together in a nervous fashion, her pupils dilated, darkening her eyes to the color of the stormy sea.
Once he had boasted to a group of young warriors that he could withstand any torture. The woman before him made him realize the fool he had been.
She forced her hands apart, a deliberate relaxation. She was trying to bring normalcy back to their interactions. “So, gargoyles can shift, huh?”
He hung onto the safety line she provided, willing to walk away from whatever edge they had been traveling. “We have hidden it for a very long time. In the distant past other races knew. In return for our trust, we received death.”
Her eyes widened. “Your allies turned on you? How did they succeed?” She paused, then in a mutter meant for her own ears more than his, said, “I’ve seen you guys in battle. I’m not sure anyone could win against you.”
Pride swept through him at her assessment of his skills. “We are more vulnerable in our human form. We are stronger than humans, but nowhere near the power of our gargoyle forms. We foolishly let others know of this weakness.”
His thoughts drifted off into memories until he was a boy at a fire, listening to the weathered elder tell the darkest moment of their race, the only story that ever brought him to his knees.
Soft skin cradled his face, breaking the memory. Larissa was before him, her warm eyes pleading for him to confide in her, promising him she would be strong enough for them both. “What happened?”
“There was a great celebration. Gargoyles were invited, including the children and the elderly. We were asked to come in our human guises. We did.”
His eyes closed and his head bowed. He did not want to finish the story. Not because he did not want to relive the elder’s words as she warned them all on that firelit night to never trust an outsider again, but because he wished Larissa to never be exposed to the depths of depravity some were capable of.
Those soft hands slid around his neck, pulling him down into her arms. She buried her face into his neck. He leaned into the silk of her hair, pulling in breath after breath of her beloved scent.
“I’ll never tell,” she said, low tones that still displayed the steel of her will. “I swear to you, I’ll never tell.”
He wrapped his arms around the little human and into her hands, he placed the fate of his people.
They stayed still for long moments before Larissa broke the contact. “I’m sorry you are in this position. I realize now how hard this is for you, making the decision between staying separate and entering this new world.”
“I wish,” he paused, the words stopping on his tongue. Uncertainty was not something he shared with others. The leader must be invulnerable. Still, she was not a member of the Clan. His doubts would not be held against him. “I hope that those who do not agree with my decision to help you will understand when this is over. They are so intent on never being vulnerable again that they lose all the possibility that this world can offer. But then I remember what has come before when we opened ourselves up, and I wonder if I am the naïve fool many call me behind my back.”
“Terak, you are not a fool. You are a great leader, one who cares for his people more than he cares for himself. Your instincts will not steer you wrong.”
“There are many of my Clan who do not possess your surety.” He backed away from her, the weakness that demanded he take her in his arms becoming stronger the longer he was near her. “I owe you a debt. You protected me.”
She snorted, the tiny sound adorable to his ears. “Well, you protected me. I say that makes us even. Or if you argue it, I’m probably still in your debt with your two life-saving rescues against my one. Besides, it’s a moot point. The way I see us, we are now allies trying to figure out what is going on.”
“You now accept that you are in danger?”
She sighed. “Guess I have no choice, do I? When a bunch of zombies and orcs come after you, it’s kind of hard to argue that it is one giant mistake.”
The teasing words came to him, another impulse he rarely experienced before entering her world. But though his first inclination was to swallow them, instead he freed them, directing them toward her. “I do not know, little human. You seem to have a great gift for arguing any situation.”
Her eyes widened. Were his words not received as they were meant? Perhaps…
And a huge smile broke out on her face, the effect that of the sun escaping from a dark grey sky. “Is that so, oh Great Leader? I’m honored that you noticed my wondrous skills in that area.”
He pushed back, gentle, not wanting to end their ease with each other. “I am sure the most silver-tongued of all elves could not argue more effectively than you.”
“That’s because no elf grew up with my family.”
He had nothing to add, so he stayed silent, letting the playfulness rest peacefully between them.
She spoke again. “How do we discover why they are after me? I acknowledge that they are after me, but it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know why I have been singled out.” She ran her hands over her arms, the playfulness fading from her features to be replaced with a fearful uncertainty. “I’m scared.”
He did not dare touch her again, but he projected every ounce of his strength into his voice. “No matter who your enemy is, I will protect you.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Why don’t they call this place ‘Goths R Us’ and be done with it? And seriously? Red velvet? Even I wouldn’t go there.”
Fallon didn’t waste the movement it would have taken to look down at the mouthy mage. Goth overload was an apt description of the vampire club. Black and red was the color scheme of everyone and everything, the haze of smoke beneath the dim lights could have been from the multitude of clove cigarettes or a few more nefarious drugs of choice, and with the attire on display, there was a good chance a leather-and-lace factory nearby had been robbed.
“And considering all the places you have gone, Laire, that is a statement.” She scanned the contours and corners from where they stood at the entrance. Invitation or not, this place was dangerous. Life-ending dangerous. Soul-stealing dangerous. Invitation or not, there was no letting down her guard. “Besides, do you really expect us to defer to your color judgment? Bubblegum pink? Why?”
A vision in leg warmers and a miniskirt, Laire pushed back her feathered, pink-tipped hair. “Just because you can’t understand color, don’t try to bring me down. Black should be an accent, not your whole color palette. I’d almost say you fit right in here among the groupies.”
“Bite your tongue.”
“No thanks, I don’t want a horde of suckers descending on me if I drew blood. And you,” Laire said, turning to the man who rounded out their spectacularly not-happy-to-be-here trio. “You need to up your act as well.”
“Hey, I do blue.” His dark blond hair was a shaggy mess that hung over his forehead, almost covering yellow eyes but not hiding the scar that ran down the right side of his face into his well-trimmed beard.
“Wulver, blue jeans every day are as bad as Fallon’s forever black. I do not give you a pass.”
“But jeans do good things for my tushie.” He turned his back to Laire, raising the lumberjack overshirt with one hand while pointing at his derriere with the other. “See? Proof right there. Why mess with perfection?”
Laire ogled him a touch longer than necessary before giving her nod. “You win. That is a great butt, truly a class by itself.”
“Thank you.”
“Before Laire comes up with a reason why we should start removing clothes to prove some theory, I got a question.” Fallon said. “Can we teleport out of here if this turns ugly?”
“Nope, our only hope will be for you to swing your sword, Wulver to fang out, and me to set everything on fire
…Ooh! Liquor,” And Laire turned away to scamper to the bar.
“Laire, get back here! You do not drink before we meet with our mortal enemy.” Not even a stutter-step to indicate she heard. Fallon’s head fell forward, the annoyance-and-more-annoyance mixture swirling through her synapses so familiar when dealing with Laire. She turned to Wulver. “Can’t you control her?”
Wulver snorted. “Can you?”
“You are the boss.”
“Like that’s ever worked.”
They went over to Laire who was pounding on the bar. “Hey! Walking blood bank, I need some service.”
The bartender, a woman was in her mid-twenties, was beautiful, of course, because vampires would surround themselves with nothing else. She kept to the red-and-black theme in her tight corset and red lips. Her expression was a mixture of disdain and horror – but to be fair that was how most people looked at Laire’s outfits. “I don’t think you belong here.”
Laire plopped down on the barstool. “And I’m supposed to care about the opinion of someone who drools over corpses? Your implants have more sense than you do. Get me a boilermaker.”
The woman’s nostrils flared, which probably hurt when you took into account all those piercings. Still, she started to fill the order. Laire called after her, “And hurry. Who knows when we’re going to be interrupted, and I want my drink.”
“What are you, an alkie?” Fallon stood to the left of the mage while Wulver sat on the right.
“You are the one who said I needed to be pleasant to a suckhead and not start a war. Don’t harsh my means of achieving it.”
The music was low, played more to enhance the dark, sensual mood than as a main attraction. The majority of beings here were human, though a few elves and a couple of nymphs were visible in the crowd. All of them beautiful and most of them women.
Stone Guardian (Entwined Realms) Page 11