Primal Hunger: Pendragon Gargoyles, Book 1

by Sydney Somers

  Kennedy’s doubtful expression caught him off guard. “Dolan has never been anything but nice to me.”

  “How nice?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Not like that. He usually watches my back. I think his scar tends to intimidate people.”

  Scar?

  “How long has he been hanging around?” Briana asked.

  Kennedy shrugged. “A few weeks I think.”

  Briana crossed her arms. “He could have been learning her routine to make it easier for the wraith.”

  “What if you can’t find out who wants me dead?” Nothing in Kennedy’s voice betrayed her worry, but she edged closer to Tristan, accepting the hand he wrapped around hers.

  “Tell her.”

  “Briana,” he warned.

  His sister ignored him. “The only way to save you is to turn over the dagger that will free Cian, or Tristan will have to fight Lucan.”

  “Lucan?” Kennedy visibly struggled to keep up.

  “The wraith,” he answered.

  “You know him?”

  “He’s a friend,” Briana said.

  Tristan snorted.

  Kennedy shook her head. “You can’t give him the dagger.”

  “Tristan won’t win a fight.”

  He glanced at Briana. “Your faith in me is staggering. I’m not going to die,” he added, turning his attention to Kennedy. “One of those perks to being immortal.”

  “I’m pretty sure you mentioned something about beheading earlier. Immortal or not that sounds pretty permanent, wouldn’t you say?” She glanced at Briana for confirmation.

  His sister nodded, and he glared at her.

  “We’ll find the contractor,” he promised.

  “Are you sure Dolan is involved?”

  Tristan searched Kennedy’s face, wondering at her skepticism. “Are you sure he isn’t?”

  “I don’t know.” She pushed her hair back from her forehead. “How are you going to find him?”

  “We’ll make him come to us.”

  Her brow furrowed. “How?”

  “We offer him a bargain.”

  —

  Kennedy stared at the stone cat inches from her feet. She hadn’t moved for twenty minutes, running the events of the last two nights through her head and coming back to the same conclusion every time.

  She couldn’t let Tristan die for her.

  One person had sacrificed their life for hers already, and that had been enough. Tristan only had twelve hours left to track down whoever was using her as a pawn, and the odds of him finding that immortal weren’t looking too good. He hadn’t given up hope Dolan was involved, but wanted to wait to summon the Fae until he’d regained his strength, something only achieved by playing gargoyle for a while.

  She’d told him she’d be fine for a little while. Turned out, saying it wasn’t nearly as hard as believing it. Not even Briana’s assurance that Lucan would keep his word to give Tristan time kept Kennedy from scanning the corners of the room in search of shadows that shouldn’t be there. Tristan had insisted that he’d know if she needed him, though she still wasn’t clear on how if he was solid as a rock, and he hadn’t offered much in the way of explanation.

  Ignoring her promise to wait for him, she sat up. She couldn’t put it off any longer, not when her life and Cian’s were at stake. Tristan had only known her for a few months compared to the centuries spent with his brother, yet he was willing to risk his life for her for reasons he continued to keep to himself.

  And she knew there was something he wasn’t saying. More than once she’d caught the knowing glances between him and Briana. The fact that he continued to hold out on her made it easier to follow through on her plan. She excelled at taking care of herself, and despite how much she wanted to trust Tristan to fix everything, the thought of him dying trying to protect her…

  The sudden pressure on her chest threatened to cut her in half. She closed her eyes, gripping the edge of the bed until the crippling sensation eased and she could stand. That she had to force herself out of the room, away from him, proved just how attached to him she’d gotten in such a short time.

  Too attached. She was falling for him. Fast and hard and without a clue how to slow it down.

  She paused at the front door, her hand clenched around the handle. Having been introduced to Tristan’s world so recently, she didn’t harbor any illusions that she actually knew what she was doing. Odds were her instincts had been way off, but she couldn’t sit back and do nothing.

  She’d done that once, let her fear paralyze her and lost the only thing that had mattered to her. She wouldn’t lose Tristan too.

  Taking a breath, Kennedy wrenched the door open and stepped outside. Goose bumps raced across her skin despite the warm afternoon air. Each step out of the shade felt one step closer to salvation and one step closer to death.

  She closed her fist around the charm she’d taken from Tristan’s room. “Dolan of the Fae, I wish to make a bargain.”

  Chapter Seven

  “And why would I want to make a bargain with you?”

  Kennedy whipped around at the amused inquiry and found Dolan leaning against the front door, arms crossed. He looked the same as he had the other night, right down to his faded jeans and plain white T-shirt. Given the little she’d learned about the Fae from Tristan, she’d half expected something about him to look different this time.

  She squared her shoulders. She’d never been intimidated by Dolan before, and she’d be damned if she started now. “I thought the Fae enjoyed bargaining.”

  “And what else has the cat told you?”

  “Not much,” she admitted, most of which she’d rather forget at the moment. Like how easily Fae could bewitch humans, leaving them at their mercy.

  Dolan shoved away from the door. “So why are you coming to me for help?”

  She frowned. “You’re not surprised I know about you.”

  “It was inevitable.” He started to say something else, but stopped, his gaze locking on her hand. Something akin to concern flashed across his face. “When did you get that?”

  “Two nights ago.”

  An inexplicable rage darkened the Fae’s face, turning the scar a deeper pink. “He let you be marked? I knew I should have gutted the bloody gargoyle the second I noticed him watching you.”

  Kennedy cocked her head, puzzled by Dolan’s reaction. “If you’re referring to Tristan, he plans to fight the wraith.”

  “I never figured the cat was annoying and stupid.” He paced away from her, swiveling back to face her. “What is the wraith after?” When she hesitated, he added, “You’re the one who called me for help, deifiúr.”

  Going with her gut, Kennedy met his gaze straight on. “A mystical dagger.”

  His sighed, proving she hadn’t needed to elaborate any more than that. “And of course the selfish bastard won’t just hand it over.”

  “His brother—”

  Dolan waved a hand, cutting her off. “So you would make a bargain with me for his brother’s benefit?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t let Tristan die for me.”

  “Why not?”

  Not caring to examine her feelings for Tristan at the moment, let alone share them with anyone else, she arched a brow. “Do I need to complete a medical questionnaire too, or can we get on with it already?”

  A hint of a smile touched Dolan’s lips, quickly overshadowed by a disapproving scowl when he noticed the bite mark on her neck. If she hadn’t suspected it meant something significant before, she certainly did now.

  “Will you help me or not?” Kennedy prompted.

  “And if I refuse?”

  “I’m screwed.”

  Dolan shook his head, and her heart sank. She turned away, heading for the front door.

  “There are rules, you know. The bargain is void the second you tell anyone the terms.”

  Despite Tristan’s warnings about bargaining with the Fae, she nodded for Dolan to continue.

&
nbsp; “In exchange for helping him with the wraith, you will come with me at the time of my choosing.”

  A sliver of unease shot through her veins. “Go with you where?”

  He crossed his arms, but didn’t answer her.

  “For how long?”

  His expression turned calculating. “A week.”

  “And then I go back to my regular life?” Assuming she didn’t end up bewitched and catering to Dolan’s every whim. A risk she’d take if it meant Tristan wouldn’t end up killing himself to keep her safe. She couldn’t live with two deaths on her conscience for that reason.

  “Regular is a bit boring, don’t you think?”

  It was her turn to scowl.

  Dolan rolled his eyes. “I hope he’s worth it.”

  “He is.”

  —

  The moment the cold stone broke away from his body, Tristan knew Kennedy wasn’t in the room. It took only a few moments to pick up on her scent, and he padded down the hall in the direction of the kitchen.

  Oblivious to the large cat stalking her, she bent over to dig a pan out from a bottom cupboard. Not wanting to freak her out, he quickly shifted and stepped up behind her. The floor creaked under his foot, and Kennedy whirled around, a wooden spoon clutched in her hand.

  Tristan caught her wrist a moment before she would have nailed him in the chest with it.

  Her shoulders relaxed, a relieved smile curving her lips. “Good reflexes.”

  He grinned. “Come back to bed with me and I’ll show you how good they really are.”

  “Back to that, are we?” Her breath hitched on the last syllable, her eyes sliding shut as he opened his mouth on the inside of her wrist.

  “Can’t help it.” He nipped the tender skin, then gently sucked it between his lips.

  Kennedy gave a soft whimper and tugged her hand free, then turned around. “I’m hungry for something else at the moment.”

  The cat growled, eager to play her game. Her words said one thing, but her scent said something very different. Something hot and tangled…

  He eyed the mess of scrambled eggs in the frying pan, cringing when she poked the massacred food with the wooden spoon. He didn’t think it was possible for anyone to screw up scrambled eggs, but the slightly charred lumps proved him wrong. “Maybe you should put that down before one of us gets hurt.”

  “Is that some kind of dig about my cooking?”

  He brushed her hair aside. “Let’s just say you make a better bartender.”

  “I’ll have you know that my cooking hasn’t killed anyone.”

  Yet. Smart enough to keep that thought to himself, he tugged the spoon out of her hand. “Let me help ensure it stays that way.” He snapped off the burner and shoved the frying pan to the back of the stove. Before she could protest, he turned her around and set her up on the island.

  “You’re naked.” Arousal hummed beneath the innocent observation.

  “So glad you finally noticed.”

  She slipped a hand between them and cupped his balls. “Hard not to.” Running her palm up his cock, Kennedy kissed his neck. “So how did you…sleep?”

  Tristan shook his head.

  “No more talking, right?”

  “You’re catching on.” Wrapping his hand around her ponytail, he playfully tugged her head back and slanted his mouth across hers.

  Moaning softly, she relaxed against him, and he slid his tongue between her lips. The first wet taste of her drop-loaded a rush of pure, carnal lust into his system, and he groaned against her mouth.

  Her fingers tightened around his cock, and he eased his legs a little wider to give his mate complete access.

  “What happened to going to your room?” she teased.

  “Can you do that and walk at the same time?” He didn’t wait for her to answer, guessing at her response. “I didn’t think so.”

  Her rich laugh whispered across his cheek, and he turned his mouth to catch hers for a drugging kiss. Smooth, hot and—

  Another scent lay buried beneath her arousal, almost masked somehow.

  He leaned back, scrutinizing her face. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

  The flicker of guilt in her eyes said it all. She’d been talking to the Fae.

  Clamping down on his anger, he stepped back, crossing his arms. “What was Dolan doing here?”

  Kennedy shook her head, remaining silent.

  She wouldn’t—couldn’t—have summoned him. The longer he stared at her, however, waiting for her to say something, the worse the ache in his stomach became. Damn it.

  Intending to demand an explanation, he paused, the hair on the back of his neck rising.

  The wraith.

  He headed for the door. “Stay inside.”

  “Wait.”

  “The wraith is here,” he said without turning around. “Go back to my room and wait for me. Please?” he added when he realized his voice sounded more animal than man.

  “Okay.”

  On the way out, he snagged a pair of pants from the closet. Lucan had promised to give him forty-eight hours. Knowing his friend hadn’t given in and gone after Kennedy while he’d been regaining his strength was the only thing preventing him from going for the wraith’s throat.

  He found Lucan in the same spot as before. The undeniable scent of blood filled Tristan’s nostrils. The wraith had fed recently. Tristan spared a quick thought for the unlucky human who would have been killed by the infection from the bite, assuming the wraith hadn’t bled the poor bastard dry.

  “Not as threatened tonight?” Despite that he’d fed recently, the wraith wasn’t looking too hot. Dark circles hung under the mercenary’s eyes, his face pale, his pulse more erratic. Already the signs of denying himself a kill were taking their toll.

  “My sister seems to think I can trust you.”

  Lucan smiled weakly. “You wouldn’t have needed her to vouch for me once upon a time.”

  “That was before you targeted my mate.”

  The wraith sighed. “I didn’t come to rehash our last conversation.” He glanced toward the house. “She met with the Fae.”

  “I guess you haven’t strayed too far from the property then.” At Lucan’s unapologetic look, he clenched his jaw. “When did they meet?”

  “Just a few hours ago. She bargained with him.”

  Fuck. “What were the terms?” he asked, already suspecting the answer.

  “I think he realized I was close and prevented me from overhearing anything.”

  “Worried?”

  “When a Fae is involved? Always.”

  “You didn’t need to tell me.”

  Lucan shrugged. “She’s your mate. How can you best protect her if she’s conspiring against you?”

  Conspiring? Annoyance flared in Tristan’s chest. “If Kennedy talked to Dolan then it was to find out he wasn’t involved.”

  “And you know the human so very well?”

  “Well enough,” he growled.

  “So it’s not possible she’s working with the Fae to get the dagger from you?”

  Tristan crossed his arms. “If Dolan engaged you, you’d be rolling on the ground in pain for revealing him.”

  “Perhaps my contractor simply beat them both to it.”

  The memory of the Fae glyph on Kennedy’s back surfaced. Tristan dismissed it almost immediately. “If they’re working together she wouldn’t have needed to bargain with him.”

  “Complications arise.” Lucan glanced down at the house. “Does she know she’s your mate?”

  “No.”

  “Are you certain? Maybe she figured it out and didn’t care for the match to be permanent.”

  The cat roared in denial. “Who engaged you?”

  Lucan stared at him.

  Tristan shrugged. “You seemed awfully chatty, figured it couldn’t hurt to just ask.”

  “If you’re looking to tip the scales, you’ll have to find that information somewhere else.” His eyes darkened to black pools
, revealing how close to the edge the mercenary already was. “You a few hours left, maybe not even that.” He turned away, paused. “I am sorry, Tristan.”

  “You sound convinced you’ll defeat me if it comes to that.”

  “If only I couldn’t.”

  Tristan didn’t wait to watch the mercenary leave, suspecting he wouldn’t venture too far from Kennedy.

  Briana waited for him at the edge of the driveway, her attention locked on the trees in the distance. “Cale still isn’t back. He’s not answering his phone and no one at Pendragon’s has seen him since the other night.”

  “The sun just set.”

  “He should have been back last night. Something is wrong.”

  Tristan wished he could disagree. His brother wouldn’t have disappeared without a word, not when they had the dagger and were one step closer to freeing Cian. “We’ll find him.”

  “Before or after your suicide mission?”

  “I’ll be fine.” He opened the front door and stepped inside.

  Briana grabbed his arm, bringing him to a halt. “No, you won’t. Did you know there isn’t even one instance of a wraith being killed? Not one, Tristan.”

  “I can’t give him the dagger and I won’t let him kill Kennedy.”

  “We’ll get it back again.”

  “I can’t just leave Cian like that.” Not when it should have been Tristan trapped in his gargoyle form for taunting the sorceress.

  “And when you’re killed, I’ll have lost two of my brothers.”

  Kennedy came around the corner.

  Briana glanced at her. “He won’t survive this. Lucan is a trained killer. That’s what he does.”

  Reading his sister’s intentions, he snarled. “Don’t.”

  “No. You won’t listen to me. Maybe you’ll listen to your mate.”

  “Briana!”

  Kennedy frowned. “Mate?”

  Briana nodded. “That’s right. You’re his mate. That bond doesn’t survive death.”

  “I can’t… I didn’t…” Disbelief flickered across Kennedy’s face.

  “Somewhere along the way fate and Mother Nature got together and figured out who your perfect match is, biologically, emotionally, physically.” Briana nodded to Tristan. “He’s it.”

  Gaze critical, Kennedy turned to him. “Is that true?”