The Goat Farmer’s Guardian

by Charlie Richards

  Juarez nodded. “Okay. This way.”

  Leading Geoffrey around the corner of the home, Juarez opened the front door. Geoffrey grimaced the second he stepped inside. Not only was the scent of the wolf shifter heavy in the air, so was the smell of fear and panic. Something had definitely gone down, but at least the heavy tang of blood was absent.

  “I don’t need to see more,” Geoffrey whispered. “I can smell him. Let’s go.” Suddenly, he felt a driving need to return to his own mate. He turned and headed out of the home. “Meet me at Zander’s. If I fly, I can make it around the same time as when Abbott arrives.”

  Juarez nodded. “I’ll see you there,” he mumbled.

  Geoffrey didn’t wait for more. Unfurling his wings, he launched into the air. Maybe it was because he hadn’t bonded with him, yet, and he hadn’t allowed Zander out of his sight in over a week. Still, Geoffrey just knew he needed to get to his mate.

  When Geoffrey arrived, he spotted an open upstairs window. Landing on the sill, he crawled inside. Instantly, that same scent assaulted his nostrils. This time, the scent of blood hung in the air, Zander’s blood.

  After a swift sweep of the house, Geoffrey’s pulse pounded in his veins. Standing on the back porch, a roar of anger ripped from his throat.

  His mate was gone.

  “And when I find who took him, I will kill him.” Geoffrey flicked out his tongue, scenting the wind. He’d been able to track Logan in his car across three states. There was a reason he worked in security. Once again taking to the air, Geoffrey began tracking his mate.

  Chapter Seven

  Pain. Lots of pain.

  Zander tried to think around the pounding in his head. Except, when he finally got past that, his shoulders throbbed, his wrists burned, and each breath sent a sharp stab through his chest.

  What the fuck happened? Did I get trampled by my goats?

  After taking several long, slow breaths, Zander managed to pry open his eyes. His vision blurry, he tried to figure out where he was. He blinked, and blinked some more, then finally managed to get his eyes to focus.

  Zander bit back a gasp—more because he knew it would hurt than because he didn’t want whoever had taken him to know he was awake—because peering around the room, he realized he had been taken. He just didn’t know the who, what, why, and where. He couldn’t think of anyone who’d want him.

  Taking stock of his position, Zander realized his shoulders and wrists hurt so much because he was being hung by them. He vaguely remembered being woken by a fist to the gut, then one to the head had knocked him out just that fast. Now, here he was, strung up with rope by his wrists, attached to hooks high on the wall. At least, now that he was awake, he could stand up and take the pressure off of his poor arms.

  But who is the guy who took me? And why?

  Then, when Zander swept his gaze over the other occupants of the room, it became apparent.

  Whoever took Juarez’s family.

  A very pregnant Megan lay on a sofa near the door, a bloody patch on her forehead. Her younger son, Vinnie, lay curled up next to her, sniffling softly. The older son, Pietro, sat in a cage along the left wall.

  Meeting Pietro’s gaze, Zander stared at the fourteen-year-old for a few seconds, reading fear and defiance in his blue eyes. He swept his gaze over the cage the teenager was in, seeing a steel padlock on the outside of it. Well, that ruled out help from the teenager…at least, right away anyway.

  Zander returned his focus to Vinnie. “Hey, Vinnie,” he called softly. “You okay, Vinnie?”

  Vinnie sniffled a couple of times, then lifted his head. The child peered around the room, then looked at him. “Mister Wheeler?” The youngster looked fearful. “You otay?”

  “Yeah, sweetie,” Zander assured. “Is your momma sleeping?”

  Nodding, Vinnie looked at his mother. “She won’t wake up.” He looked at Zander again, his bottom lip poking out in a pout as he demanded, “Wake her up.”

  “I’m kinda tied up, Vinnie,” Zander pointed out. “I—”

  “Mister Wheeler,” Pietro called softly.

  Zander looked toward the locked up teen. “Yeah?” His pounding head was making it a bit hard to focus. How long had he been there? Had Geoffrey returned to the house and found him missing, yet? Would his gargoyle lover be able to track him down?

  “You look really pale,” Pietro commented. “You sure you’re okay?”

  Chuckling softly, Zander smiled drowsily at the lad. “Can’t answer that honestly without offending young ears, bud.”

  Pietro actually snorted. “Hey, Vinnie,” Pietro called. “Come here. I have something I need you to take to Mister Wheeler. But you gotta be super careful.”

  “Otay,” Vinnie murmured. After a second’s hesitation, he swiveled on the sofa and wriggled off of the ugly piece of furniture. The youngster toddled across the small room to his brother.

  Zander watched as Pietro rolled to his butt and kicked off his worn sneaker. He pulled a small Swiss army knife from the shoe, then shoved his foot back into it. Rolling to his knees, he knee-walked over to the bars. After another glance toward Zander, Pietro opened up a blade and held it through the bars, pointing the blade toward the floor, to his young brother.

  “Go slow and careful, Vinnie. Don’t fall,” Pietro warned. “This can hurt you. Go straight to Mister Wheeler.”

  Vinnie nodded. He took the knife and held it as far out in front of him as possible with his head averted. It almost looked like he carried something foul, as if the knife smelled. Zander had to smile. Once upon a time, he’d wanted kids. Now, he knew it’d never happen.

  Focusing on the toddler heading his way, Zander searched his fuzzy brain for some way to get the knife into his hands. Groaning mentally, he could only think of one, painful way. “Hold that as high as you can, Vinnie. I’m gonna take it with my mouth. Ready?”

  Reaching as high as he could, Vinnie nodded. Zander twisted and reached, just managing to grab the knife between his lips. He smiled and nodded at the little boy, then focused on getting the knife up to his hands. Groaning, he clenched his fists, pressed into his bonds, and orchestrated an awkward chin up. By the time his mouth was close enough to his hand and he managed to unclench his fingers so he could grab it, his shoulders, wrists, and stomach screamed in agony and tears tracked down his cheeks.

  Zander leaned against the wall, panting softly as he struggled to get himself under control. After a moment, not knowing how much time he had before their captor returned, he started cutting the rope. The knife was small, but sharp, and cut through the rope swiftly.

  When the bonds fell away, Zander almost collapsed. His arms dropped to his sides, too heavy to hold up, and he just managed to keep hold of the knife. He rested his head against the wall for a moment, panting hard, sweat making the t-shirt and boxers he wore cling to his body.

  “Mister Wheeler? Are you otay?”

  Zander looked down, registering how the little boy patted his leg and peered up at him uncertainly. He smiled. Lifting a trembling hand, he awkwardly patted Vinnie’s head. “I’m okay,” he assured. The tingles made his hands feel on fire as his blood returned to his limbs, but he fumbled with the knife anyway, checking to see what other options were on the small utility tool. When he discovered the nail file and the hard plastic tooth pick, he pushed away from the wall and headed toward Pietro’s cage.

  Kneeling in front of the cage’s lock, Zander set his tools down on the warped wooden boards beneath him and shook out his hands.

  “What are you doing?” Pietro asked.

  Picking up the tools again, Zander inserted the file into the wider end of the padlock, then the toothpick in the smaller end. “I’m attempting to pick this lock,” Zander muttered. Focusing on what he was doing, he continued absently, “When I was a sophomore in college, I worked at a locksmith company. After a year, they promoted me to do their on-the-road requests. I got quite…good…at—” The lock click
ed. “Got it,” he whispered.

  Zander quickly pulled the lock off and opened the door. Pietro scrambled out, murmuring thanks, as he passed and headed to his mother. Nodding, Zander plopped onto his ass and just focused on taking one breath at a time for a few seconds while the young vampire checked out his human mother.

  “Hey, how bad are you injured?”

  Opening his eyes, Zander realized Pietro had left his mother and now knelt before him. He must have dozed off or something. He hadn’t even realized the teenager had moved. “Shit,” he muttered, then grimaced. “Sorry.”

  Pietro scoffed, picking up the Swiss army knife and putting it to rights. Zander didn’t even remember putting the items down. “Not like I haven’t heard worse than that,” Pietro stated dryly.

  “I bet,” Zander muttered. “Probably a concussion,” he added, rubbing his face. At least his hands had stopped tingling. “I can move, though. Any idea where we are?”

  “Nope. In an abandoned farmhouse in the middle of the woods somewhere,” Pietro replied, rocking back on his heels.

  “Then you need to go get help,” Zander stated, trying to sound firm.

  “What?” Pietro pulled away. “I can’t leave Vinnie and my mom!”

  Zander grabbed the boy’s upper arm. “You’re a vampire. That means you’re super fast, right?” Frowning mutinously, Pietro nodded. “Then follow the driveway until you come to a road. Then follow the road until you come to a driveway. Wake someone up and call nine-one-one.” He tried to give the young vampire an encouraging smile. “We’ll be fine here.”

  Just as Pietro opened his mouth to respond, probably to offer another refusal, a loud roar sounded from somewhere outside. Pietro’s jaw gaped, silencing anything he would have said. Vinnie whined and curled up against his still unconscious mother.

  Zander’s eyes widened and he cocked his head. “Geoffrey?” Hope blossomed in his chest. He struggled to his feet and, cupping his sore abs, crossed to the mostly boarded up window. While the slats were gapped enough to look through, he wouldn’t have been able to wriggle through them. Still, he easily spotted the massive winged creature blotting out the stars. “Geoffrey,” he said again, breathing the name like a prayer.

  “Wh-Who’s that?” Pietro sounded uncertain.

  “My mate,” Zander replied, looking over and smiling at him. Then, he realized how right it felt to call the gargoyle that. Geoffrey was his mate, someone he could rely on and who’d support him. Suddenly, he realized he wanted to do that for Geoffrey, too. Feeling more content with that idea than he’d felt about anything in a long while, he grinned at Pietro. “He was helping your father. He’s come for us.”

  The sound of a gunshot echoed through the stillness of the night, followed quickly by a second. Gasping, Zander returned his focus outside just in time to see the black silhouette of his lover tumble from the sky. “No!” Zander cried, his heart plummeting. Then, he heard another roar from Geoffrey, the sound full of anger…but no pain.

  “Is that the best you got, fucker!” Geoffrey’s deep voice sounded from the darkness.

  Relief filled Zander. Then, he looked at Pietro. “Uh, maybe you should cover his ears?”

  Pietro rolled his eyes. “That’s the last thing we should be worried about with this whole thing,” he muttered.

  “Right.”

  “Leave, Geoffrey,” their captor called. “I’m doing this for us! Paranormals shouldn’t bond with humans! They dilute our bloodlines, making us weak!”

  Zander curled his lip. “Asshole,” he muttered. At least, now he knew what this shifter’s problem was.

  “Totally,” Pietro mumbled from where he stood next to him, his arms crossed over his lean chest.

  Just then, a dark shadowy figure appeared on the ground below, moving so swiftly that if Zander hadn’t been looking in that direction at that exact second, he would have missed it. He couldn’t make out features, but it barreled toward the house. Several more shots rang out, but if they hit Geoffrey, they didn’t even slow him. Then, the figure disappeared near the left corner of the house, followed by the loud crashing of a body hitting wood. The splintering crack of wood giving way echoed through the home.

  The sounds of roars and yells, grunts and growls, filtered through the floor and into the room. Thuds from bodies hitting walls, making the place tremble, as the pair below fought. After a number of minutes, all went silent.

  Vinnie whined and cuddled close to his mother. Pietro crossed to his brother and mother’s side, trying to soothe the young boy as best as a teenager could. Zander searched the room for anything to use as a weapon, finally breaking a leg from a chair to use as a club.

  “Zander?”

  Relief flooded Zander upon hearing Geoffrey’s strong voice calling his name. “Here,” he replied.

  Zander dropped the chair leg just as the door burst open. The massive form of his lover filled the frame for a few seconds as the gargoyle swept his gaze over the room. Spotting him, Geoffrey rushed toward him. Zander met him partway and flung his arms around his lover’s waist as he felt his gargoyle’s arms and wings come around him in a warm, secure embrace.

  “My mate,” Geoffrey murmured, his hands rubbing up and down Zander’s back, his shoulders, his arms, then back down his torso to his ass. He seemed to be searching him for injuries. “Are you okay?” he asked, his words confirming Zander’s suspicions.

  “Nothing that a few days of rest won’t cure,” Zander told him. “Thanks to you.”

  Geoffrey lifted one hand to Zander’s jaw and cupped his cheek. “Thank the gods,” he whispered, before taking his mouth in a kiss that seared with its gentleness. By the time Geoffrey lifted his head, ending the slow exploration the gargoyle had been giving his mouth, Zander’s skin goose bumped and his balls tingled. Even the pain still ebbing through his shoulders and wrists couldn’t stop his cock from rising to the occasion, tenting his boxers.

  “Who’s he?”

  Vinnie’s whispered question squashed Zander’s arousal quickly enough.

  Zander cleared his throat and turned to look at the trio, still in the fold of Geoffrey’s wings. Both boys stared at them, the mother still out. “This is my mate, Geoffrey. He’s a gargoyle,” Zander told the wide-eyed toddler.

  “Wow,” Vinnie responded. “You have wings! Can you fly?”

  Geoffrey chuckled softly. “I can. But how about I show you later. I’m gonna give your dad a call and let him know where you are. Okay?”

  Vinnie nodded. “Otay.” He looked back at his mom. “She won’t wake up.”

  “We’ll get her help,” Geoffrey assured. Pulling his phone from his belt clip, he hit a number and held his phone to his ear. “Alpha Abbott? I found them. No, I don’t know who the shifter was. Sorry. No, I’ve already served restitution. Yeah, the terminal kind,” Geoffrey stated, obviously choosing his words carefully, glancing at Vinnie. “It’s an abandoned farmhouse on Striplin Street. I don’t know a crossroad. You know it? Okay. See you in twenty, then.” Geoffrey hung up the phone.

  “Should we wait downstairs?” Zander asked softly, rubbing his gargoyle’s chest.

  Geoffrey shook his head, a grimace crossing his square features as he once more glanced at the toddler. “Naw, it’s kind of a mess down there. Let’s stay here.”

  Zander nodded, understanding. Hell, he’d heard the fight. The downstairs probably looked like a tornado had struck…then there was also the dead shifter’s body…

  “Thank you for coming for me,” Zander whispered.

  Geoffrey smiled down at Zander, pecking another kiss to his lips. “While I hope to never have to again, I will always come for you.” Turning to face the sofa, he urged Zander that way even as he kept his left arm and wing around him. He smiled at Vinnie. “Let’s see how your mother is doing, hmm, little one?”

  Vinnie nodded. “Otay.”

  Not surprisingly, Juarez arrived first. They heard the skidding of tires on gravel and di
rt before his footsteps pounded up the stairs. He appeared in the doorway, his chest heaving and his eyes wild as he searched the room. His sons were instantly on their feet running to him, shouting, dad!

  Juarez swept them both up, even the teenager, into his arms and hugged them tightly. He gasped back a sob, his face tucked between that of his son’s. Then, he kissed both their necks and carried them both to the sofa where Megan—who’d woken a few minutes ago—sat smiling up at him.

  “Thank you,” Juarez whispered to Geoffrey, before giving his full attention to his wife and kids. He did the same as Geoffrey had done earlier, hands roving over their bodies, searching for injuries.

  Zander turned and focused on Geoffrey, resting his palms on his chest. “You ever want kids?” he blurted out. Geoffrey’s eyes widened, and Zander grimaced. “Crap, this isn’t the time for that. I know it isn’t. We’ll discuss kids another time, when we’ve spent more than a day together,” he said, backpedaling quickly, not wanting to pressure the gargoyle. He didn’t know if gargoyles even had kids. He’d never asked how they reproduced.

  Geoffrey grinned widely. He lowered his head, pecked a kiss to Zander’s lips, then nuzzled his temple as he whispered into his ear, “When you’re ready, we’ll have kids. We’ll have as many as you want.”

  Enjoying the sensations, Zander’s eyelids drooped. He tilted his head, offering more room. “Okay. Sounds like a great plan,” he mumbled, smiling absently as he felt Geoffrey’s canines scrape down his neck to his shoulder.

  Zander registered in the back of his mind that others were arriving. Except, now that he’d made his decision to accept Geoffrey—hell, how could he not, nothing felt better than being in the gargoyle’s arms—he just wanted to go home and fuck like rabbits. That could also be caused by the adrenaline still coursing through his system, as well as the need to affirm that he lived.

  Still, either way, Zander wanted…badly. “Can we deal with everything tomorrow?” he asked, pressing close to Geoffrey. He rubbed his quickly hardening shaft against his gargoyle’s thigh, making his need blatantly obvious.