Coercing Quinn

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Coercing Quinn Page 3

by Charlie Richards


  Should they head back to the estate? Head toward the sound of the gun shots? Or should they stay in place?

  Maybe we should have asked more questions.

  Just when Taolma was going to start down the tree, he spotted a flash of color through the foliage. The deep red stood out against the green and brown of the trees. A second later, he realized it was a t-shirt.

  Who the hell wears red when out on a raid?

  “Oh shit!”

  Taolma whispered the words without thought, because he realized the person in red wasn’t a hunter. It was one of two female teenagers that lived at the clutch. This one was Karen, daughter of Katie who was mated to the gargoyle Brogan.

  Spotting a dark-clad figure fifteen feet behind Karen and closing fast, Taolma hit the button on his communicator. “Got movement on the south side. Hunter in pursuit of Karen.” After that, he rested the device on the tree limb and began shifting.

  As a boa constrictor shifter, Taolma’s kind were one of the few shifters that didn’t destroy their clothes when they changed. Instead, they could turn into their animal and slither right out of them. He did that then, swiftly turning into his snake.

  Taolma moved easily along a tree branch. Just as he’d hoped, Karen sprinted right under it, ducking under branches and shoving through brambles. Her pursuer gained, his big body able to use brute strength to close the gap.

  Dropping off the limb, Taolma landed his long, thick body on top of the man’s shoulders. His weight took them both to the ground. While the man’s knees hit the forest floor hard, he remained in possession of his gun.

  Striking at the hunter’s wrist, Taolma sank his long, razor-sharp teeth into the man’s flesh. He twisted his coils around the human’s body and began tightening his muscles. Focusing his goal on incapacitating the hunter, he ignored the man’s cry of pain and his cursing. Instead, he listened to his body creak as his bones shifted to accommodate his constriction.

  The man’s body bucked in his hold. He finally dropped his weapon when Taolma tightened his jaw and snapped the bones in his wrist. The man screamed again.

  Fire spiked through Taolma’s body. Opening his mouth, he released the human’s arm as he hissed in pain. He turned his head and spotted a second hunter aiming his gun at him.

  Taolma felt fear slice through him as he wondered where he’d be shot next. The human was close enough to easily hit him in the head. Would he do that, or was he supposed to take captives alive?

  To Taolma’s relief, Caladon’s boa arrived. His father twisted around the second hunter. At the same time, Golren appeared. He grabbed the gun off the ground and pointed it at Caladon’s captive.

  “Drop the gun, hunter,” Golren ordered. “Or you and your buddy’s organs are going to be squashed into jelly.”

  Taolma mentally cringed at the image that popped into his head. He didn’t really want to kill the guy in his coils, but he’d do it. Having lost his father for over seventeen years to people just like this one, he’d do what he could to protect his new family.

  Fortunately, the man dropped the weapon.

  Taolma eased his hold just enough to make it easy for the guy he held to breathe. Placing his own head close to the other man’s, he hissed softly. The move revealed his long teeth, assuring that the guy stayed still.

  “Karen, where are you?” Golren called while keeping his gaze fixed on the hunter. “Are you okay?”

  “Here,” she called, stepping out from behind a tree. She wrapped her arms around her torso. “I-I’m okay,” she whispered. “Just a few scratches.”

  “Did they get into the rec room?” Golren asked. “Are other youngsters in danger?”

  “N-No,” Karen stammered. “I, uh, I wasn’t in there.”

  Golren sent a scowl her way. “Why weren’t you with the others?” He lifted a hand, indicating he didn’t need an answer. “Just, stay with us while I check in with Tobias.”

  Karen nodded, her blonde hair waving around her dirt-streaked face.

  Taolma felt the man in his arms struggle, so he refocused his attention just in time. Somehow, the man had managed to pull a knife from a sheath at his hip. Sweeping his tail up, Taolma wrapped it around the man’s hand, keeping him from moving it.

  The man stopped struggling, but he did curl his lip at him.

  “I got him,” Golren assured, stepping into Taolma’s line of sight. “You can release him. We need to check to see where you were hit. I see an awful lot of blood dripping down your scales.”

  Relief filling him, Taolma did as his pops instructed. He eased his hold and slithered away from the human hunter. As soon as he did so, Golren slammed the butt of the gun against the hunter’s skull and the guy dropped like a stone.

  Golren grinned. “Easier that way.” He turned toward the other hunter. “You gonna come along quietly? Or should I knock your ass out, too?”

  “Are you guys sentient when you’re in animal form?”

  Taolma sniffed in irritation at the hunter’s stunned question, then initiated his shift. Over the sound of his muscles popping, tendons cracking, and bones moving and reforming, he heard Golren answer.

  “Yes, we are sentient, even in animal form,” Golren told him. “Who told you otherwise?”

  “Roger and Paris,” the man responded, his look one of confusion. “He says you all just turn into big, strong animals that can’t reason or think. You just kill.”

  Caladon eased off the man, hissing his contempt at the man’s words.

  Golren shook his head. “Roger and Paris are wrong. Hands on your head,” he ordered. “Let’s get moving. Tobias wants us back. According to cameras, the other hunters have been dealt with.” Golren focused on Taolma. “Where are you hit?”

  Taolma grimaced, meeting his pops’ gaze. “My side,” he admitted, easing his fingers away from where he pressed for a second to reveal the wound. He immediately again put pressure on it. “Gonna pass out soon, I think,” he admitted, seeing spots dance across his vision.

  “I found some of your clothes near the base of a tree,” Karen revealed, stopping next to him and holding out his jeans. “Let me help you get dressed and back to the estate.”

  Taking the jeans in one hand, Taolma smiled his thanks. “I appreciate that.” Fortunately, he managed to get his pants on and zipped before he crumpled to the ground.

  Chapter Four

  Quinn paced the room. Feeling cooped up, he couldn’t keep still. He’d heard the sound of gunfire and screams. People he’d worked with, trained with, were out there dying because of his guilt.

  That had been hours before.

  Growling softly, Quinn picked up the pitcher off the side table and flung it across the room. Unfortunately, it wasn’t made of glass, so he didn’t get to hear that satisfying shattering sound. The container did pour water all over the wall and floor though.

  “Did the pitcher do something wrong?”

  Spinning, Quinn discovered he was no longer alone. He hadn’t heard anyone knock. In fact, he hadn’t even heard the door open.

  Quinn recognized Taolma standing just inside the door.

  Gaping, Quinn swept his gaze over the young, black man. He was shirtless, his dark skin gleaming with just a hint of sweat. His sweatpants rode low on his slender hips.

  Quinn couldn’t help but think he was a stunning-looking young male. He found his gaze fixed on the white swath of bandage around his midsection. It hid his abs, and Quinn found his interest peaked.

  Why do I want to see what’s underneath that?

  “No?” Taolma continued, a small smile pulling at his lips. “Then maybe you just wanted to mop the floor.”

  “Huh?” Quinn blurted out the word before he could get hold of his mouth. Then, he remembered the man’s original question. Glancing toward the plastic pitcher and the mess he’d made, then returning his focus to Taolma, Quinn muttered, “Just frustrated. I opened my mouth and put a lot of people in danger.”

>   Taolma sighed, his gaze sweeping around the room for a few seconds. Then, he crossed to the chair by the bed and eased onto it. As he did so, he let out a quiet grunt, a pained expression etching across his features for a few seconds before he cleared it.

  “You saved a lot of lives, actually,” Taolma stated softly. “Innocent children and infants.” His smile turned almost reflective. “People who couldn’t fend for themselves against men wielding guns with hearts full of anger, hate, and misunderstanding.”

  “Hadn’t really thought about it like that,” Quinn admitted... and he hadn’t. Never once had he thought about baby gargoyles or shifter cubs... not until being brought there, anyway. Easing down on the bed a few feet away from the chair, he swept his gaze over Taolma again. Trying to ignore the way his blood heated with appreciation at the view, he pointed at his torso. “What happened to you?”

  “Got shot,” Taolma replied, his expression pained. “Never been shot before. But it was worth it.”

  Gulping hard, Quinn didn’t like how that knowledge made him feel. He had an odd desire to ask who’d shot him. What he wanted to do with the information unnerved him further.

  No way should I be wanting to avenge the man’s pain.

  “What do you mean?” Quinn asked, trying to focus instead on the young man, no, shifter’s comment. “What could be worth getting shot?”

  Taolma lifted one dark brow as the corner of his lip curved up. “I helped stop a pair of hunters from kidnapping a teenage girl.”

  Quinn felt his eyes widen. “Why would someone kidnap a teenage girl?” He asked the question on impulse, then tried to get clarification. “You mean a female shifter, right?”

  “No,” Taolma countered. “I mean a human.” Evidently, Quinn’s expression must have betrayed his disbelief, for he continued, “She’s the daughter of a human female and a gargoyle. There are no female gargoyles, so she was born human.” His brows furrowed as he added, “With a few special perks.”

  Frowning, thinking he’d caught the young man in a lie, Quinn pointed his finger at him. “So she’s not human. She’s half gargoyle.”

  Scoffing, Taolma shook his head. “There are no half and halves with gargoyles and shifters, Quinn,” he told him. “You either are one or you aren’t.”

  Confused, Quinn couldn’t help but ask, “Then what are these special perks you’re talking about?”

  “Same things you’ll get when I finally talk you into bonding with me,” Taolma responded with a smirk. “You’ll heal faster, grow a bit stronger, have your world rocked by the bliss I provide.” He waggled his brows as he continued, “You might end up with heightened senses. Many mates do. It’ll be harder for you to break a bone or get sick.”

  Quinn tried to wrap his mind around the blunt way Taolma expressed himself. “First, why do you think we should bond,” he asked. “We don’t know anything about each other. Why would you choose me, some guy you don’t know and doesn’t like paranormals, to try to claim?” He scoffed, trying to hide how his heart pounded at the lies he spouted. “Isn’t there easier prey out there?”

  Heaving a sigh, then grimacing, Taolma rested his head against the wall behind him. His eyes lowered to half-mast. He took several long, slow breaths.

  Once again, Quinn noted the sheen of sweat on Taolma’s forehead and upper lip. He opened his mouth to ask if he was okay, then clicked his mouth shut. He already knew the man wasn’t okay. The guy had been shot!

  “Shit,” Quinn hissed, lurching to his feet. “That can’t be comfortable.” He stepped toward Taolma, reaching for him. “I feel like such an ass for not offering before. Do you want to lie down?”

  Taolma’s brows lifted as he looked up at him. Slowly, he nodded. “I’d appreciate that. Thanks.”

  Reaching up with his left hand, Taolma kept his right arm close to his side, betraying just how much pain he was in.

  Quinn grabbed his hand in his own left hand. He stepped to his side, then wrapped his right arm around his shoulders. “Come on,” he urged. “Let’s get you a little more comfortable.” Unable to help himself, Quinn rubbed his upper arm, then helped him to his feet. “Did you take any pain meds? Do they work on you?” he asked, realizing he didn’t actually know.

  Taolma sucked in a harsh breath, then rocked forward. With the man’s taller frame leaning on him, Quinn stumbled a step before he caught both their weights. The young black male grunted, then actually whispered an apology.

  “Don’t apologize,” Quinn responded. “I should have remembered how much taller you are than me,” he claimed, helping Taolma to his bed. “Just relax now.”

  Quinn helped ease Taolma onto the bed. He noted how the male grimaced once more, and his cheeks darkened even further, betraying a flush. When Quinn grabbed his calves and helped swing them up on the mattress, so he could lie out fully, the shifter let out a low moan.

  “I’m gonna take that response as you haven’t taken anything for the pain,” Quinn commented, his brows furrowing. “While I get you some water, will you answer my question as to why?” he pressed. “Don’t they work on... your kind?”

  Taolma smiled—actually smiled—up at him. “Naw, we have pain pills,” he revealed. “They were specially made for our kind.” He winked as he accentuated the words. “By a couple of doctors. I just didn’t take any, is all.”

  “Why the hell not?” Quinn couldn’t imagine being shot and not taking at least ibuprofen. Hell, maybe a sedative, so he could sleep through the first couple of days of healing. “Did they run out or something?”

  Shaking his head, Taolma replied, “Because I could hear you pacing in here. I wanted to see you, make sure you were okay, and I didn’t want my senses dulled by meds at the time.”

  “But being dulled by pain is okay?” Quinn asked incredulously.

  Taolma shook his head. “Not dulled. Hyper aware.” He grinned as he waggled his brows. “And I wasn’t groaning because of pain. It was because you were touching me.” He winked. “Felt so damn good.”

  Quinn gaped, actually taking a step backward in shock.

  “And to answer your question, I don’t pick my mate,” Taolma revealed. “Fate picks my mate. How she chooses is a bit of a mystery, but she normally does a damn fine job. We just have to be open to seizing the opportunity.”

  Barking a laugh, Quinn couldn’t believe his ears. “No way.” He grinned at the man in his bed, waiting for the punch line. When Taolma just shrugged, Quinn shook his head. “No way,” he repeated, still disbelieving. “Why would you think that?”

  Taolma lifted his left hand and propped it behind his head. “It’s not just something I think,” he stated. “It’s the way it works for paranormals. Some of us search for our mate, for whoever is destined to be the other half of our soul, our entire lives and never find them.” He grinned widely as he boldly swept his gaze up and down Quinn’s body. “While it’s unexpected, me being so young and all, I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Especially one as hot as you. Now, how about that water, and I’ll answer any questions you want.”

  Almost feeling as if he were in shock, Quinn moved around the bed. He picked up the pitcher from the floor, then went into the bathroom. Grabbing a towel, he returned to his earlier spill and tossed the towel on top of it.

  Quinn walked back into the bathroom and used the tub faucet to fill the pitcher three-quarters of the way full. He returned to the side table, unwrapped a plastic cup, and filled it with water. After resting the pitcher on the table, he headed back to Taolma.

  Easing onto the side of the bed, Quinn slid his hand under the young man’s shoulders. He helped him sit up a little, then placed the cup at his lips. As he watched Taolma drink, he wondered at his own actions.

  Why am I caring for him?

  “Thanks,” Taolma mumbled, sighing. “That was just what my throat needed. Didn’t realize it was so dry.”

  After resting the cup on the nightstand, Quinn focused on the male lying on
his bed. “What the hell am I doing?” he muttered, his confusion at his own actions causing him to blurt out the words. “Why am I caring for you? Why don’t I just tell you to leave?”

  Taolma reached over and rested his left hand on Quinn’s thigh. “Because you feel the pull, too, Quinn,” Taolma claimed. “It’s not just on my end. It’s on the human’s end, too... the desire to please and care for, to touch and protect.” He squeezed Quinn’s leg. “Besides. You’re attracted to me, hot stuff.”

  Quinn opened his mouth as he shook his head. He racked his brain for some kind of denial. Unfortunately, with Taolma’s massaging hand so high up on his thigh, his prick was definitely taking notice... a lot of notice.

  “I can help you, you know.”

  Taolma’s whispered statement drew Quinn’s attention. He wasn’t certain when he’d focused on the man’s hand on his leg, but he couldn’t deny he enjoyed the sensation. Judging by his thickening cock, probably a little too much.

  Clearing his throat, Quinn asked, “What do you mean? Help me how?” He met Taolma’s gaze. “You mean help me get out of here?”

  Did he have an ally in Taolma because of the mate thing? Could he get out of there because of this... attraction?

  “Eventually,” Taolma responded softly. The corner of his mouth tipped up. “We will want to get our own place, at some point.” Before Quinn could counter the male’s continued implications that they would end up in bed together—hell, technically they were in bed together, after all—Taolma continued, “I mean, I want to offer you the opportunity to find justice for your wife and son.”

  Quinn felt the blood drain from his face. “Wh-What did you say?” He scowled, hating his continued ignorance. “Who told you about that?”

  “Jeremiah,” Taolma murmured. He rubbed Quinn’s leg, probably trying to soothe him. “I see I’ve struck a nerve,” he whispered. “Please, try to relax. I’m only trying to help.”

 

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