by Emma Alisyn
Veda smiled slowly, eyes lidded. “Oh, my dear brother meant exactly what he said. He’s a guard. They don’t waste words.”
“Oh. Well, it was a little different. For him.” She glanced down, fidgeting.
“He may be interested, you know.” Veda leaned against the wall. “What did you say when he asked if you had a man?”
“I told him the truth. There was no reason to lie.”
“None at all. If you don’t want him to show interest, let me know and I’ll talk to him.”
Bea’s eyes widened. “No. Don’t tell him I said anything. I’m sure he isn’t interested, and I don’t want him to think I think he likes me. That would just be embarrassing.”
“Veda!” Stacia entered the Garden, a few flyers left in her hands. She’d been out doing what was normally Bea’s job, talking to potential customers in the neighborhood and drumming up business. Bea’d recognized very early that Stacia was much more suited to that kind of thing. The slightly motherly aura around her caused some customers to just fall in line. “I need more of these. Where are they?”
Veda frowned. “You know what, I haven’t ordered from the printer in a while. We might be out.”
“Give me the information, I’ll take care of it.”
Bea suppressed a smile as mother and daughter conferenced briefly over the matter of flyers, going to the back area that served as both office and sorting room. If Veda wasn’t careful, quiet Stacia would take over the whole business. Bea went back to working until Veda came back, a rueful expression on her face.
“My mother is going to take over, damn Niko. She’s supposed to get flyers, but somehow that morphed into her going over my accounting systems. I didn’t even know she took accounting classes in college.”
Bea laughed, and arched a brow. “You’re going to start paying her, right?”
Veda shrugged. “She wouldn’t take it. I’ll think of something, though.” Her expression soured. “Or just ask Niko, since he seems to be arranging everyone’s life lately.”
A brother to arrange her life? It sounded like heaven. Though it wasn’t really a brother she wanted. A lover, even a husband. Just . . . someone.
Her energy must have darkened because Veda gave her a long look. “Okay. But, what else is bothering you? Besides my single, well-employed, handsome brother?”
Bea sighed. "Just life.”
Veda touched her arm. "You said your ex has Aeezah tonight, right?" Bea nodded. "There's a party at the palace tonight. I don't normally go to those kinds of things, but Niko's been giving me a hard time about not putting in an appearance lately given my family's rank with the community. How about you come as my date? I think you would have a good time.”
“I’m not sure about that.” The reality was that the idea of spending an evening in the company of a host of gargoyles kind of exhausted her. She had heard stories about parties at the palace. They sounded rowdy and decadent. The exact opposite of what she had planned for the evening, which was sitting in her jammies eating a pint of ice cream and watching a romance movie that would make her cry.
“You wanted to sit at home and brood, huh? Best thing you can do is give yourself some distraction.”
“That sounds fun, but gargoyles and everything . . . . ” She trailed off, uncomfortable, not sure exactly how to put it without being offensive.
Veda laughed. “I know you've heard stories. We’ll do another little training session, practice the defensive moves I showed you when we close shop. But, just so you know, Niko will be there. I think he’d like to see you.”
Bea raised her eyebrow. “What for? And, I’m still sore from your last ‘little’ training session.”
Veda’s grin was salacious. “Don’t you think my brother is kind of hot? And you may be sore, but you know how to pin a motherfucker to the wall if he comes at you.”
She winced. “Language, Veda. And sure, he’s hot. In a ‘bossy royal guard with a major control complex’ kind of way.”
“Those guys are the best in bed. The ‘take charge and nail you to the headboard’ kind. Real jackhammers. And, it’s been a while for Niko, so he has plenty of energy stored up.”
“Veda.” It had been a while? She yanked her mind back from the path it began gleefully skipping down.
“Live a little bit. You might even have something crazy happen, like you know, you’d have some fun."
Bea played her last card. “I’m a mom. I don't have anything to wear to that kind of thing.”
Veda’s smirk was knowing. “No problem, babe. Leave it all to me. Just be at my place at six o'clock."
“Will Stacia be there?” She wouldn’t mind some sensible, calm-energy company.
“My mother? At a party thrown by Prince Geza?”
“Guess not.”
6
Veda’s home was clutter free, except for the plants. There were plants everywhere, on every surface, in each corner of the open concept room. Exposed brick walls and high industrial ceilings added a kind of retro mood to the feel of the apartment. It wasn’t sweet, or cozy. It was Veda.
“Come on, let’s get you ready,” the gargoyle said.
It was dark outside, and Veda’s skin was its natural hue, like storm clouds on a summer day, nails lengthened to near talon length, silky black wings with the sheen of leather rustling as she grabbed Bea’s hand, dragging her into the ‘bedroom.’ It was really a half wall, hanging from the ceiling on cables, that semi-separated it from the rest of the living area. The closet was inside out as well with rods and shelves anchored to one side and floating. Several dresses were strewn on the high bed.
“Aeezah is with her dad?”
“Yes. She’ll stay overnight, so I don’t have to rush when the clock strikes twelve.”
“Sweet. I picked cocktail attire because of our height difference. They should hit you about at the knee, which is okay. You don’t want to show too much skin. Some of the warriors like human females.”
“Ummm . . . is this going to be a bad idea?”
Veda waved a hand. “I’ll be with you. And, Niko will keep an eye out. If they know you’re under our protection, no one will approach you unless you invite them. Just let me know, though, so I stay away if you decide to hook up.”
Bea rolled her eyes. Not likely to happen. She tried on a few dresses before settling on something in a peachy color, the bodice high enough that her cleavage didn’t shout ‘fuck me’ and with a flirty skirt. The warmth brought out the undertones of her skin. It was sweet, fun, rather than come hither. She twirled in the mirror, pleased.
Veda eyed her hair. “I don’t have products for curls, but it would be a shame to pin it up.”
Bea shrugged. “Water and a bit of serum or cream will work. I can smooth it out with my fingers.”
Veda watched her wrap her curls around her fingers one at a time before realizing it was as interesting as watching paint dry, and then wandered away to pick out her own dress. Bea took some of her hair and braided it into a strategic semi crown in lieu of a headband, and let the rest remain free around her shoulders. The effect was casual, but pretty, and since she kept it natural, if it rained she wouldn’t have to run for cover, shrieking.
She’d already done her makeup, keeping it minimal. A swipe of bronzer on her eyelids and mascara. A warm nude lip gloss and some more bronzer on her cheeks. She’d kept in mind that though she was at the party as a private citizen, she was still an employee of Prince Malin. She’d be foolish not to assume her behavior and attire would be judged. She would maintain a semblance of decorum and dignity, even in a relaxed setting.
Besides, she was the mother of a young daughter, it was an imperative to set a good example of responsible conduct, even when her child wasn’t present. Her friend pronounced her ready, and made quick work of her own dress, a short, black number with a wrap neckline to accommodate wings.
“It’s a skort,” Veda said in a satisfied tone, flipping up a flap of her mini skirt. “I’ve been looking f
or one in black leather for eons.”
“Sleek.” And sexy, and utterly badass. Bea felt a twinge of envy. She was soccer mom, girl next door pretty. Veda was plain hot.
Bea didn’t have the credit to afford aerial transport, so Veda slid into the back seat of her full-sized car, expression resigned while she settled her wings. Awkwardly.
“You can fly if you want,” Bea said. “I don’t mind meeting you there.”
“No, it’s better if we arrive together. Malin needs to pay you more. This car is tiny.”
For someone with wings. “He’s a very good employer. I have no complaints.” Her salary was good for the work she did, and the Prince was courteous even when he was curt and focused on results. With the health insurance and yearly cost of living raises, she would be a fool to complain, especially when the gargoyle royal circle was apparently close enough that her complaints could get back to him. She knew Niko and Malin were friends.
The gargoyle section of the city began at the foot of a steep hill with a drop on one side, the other a massive, stone retaining wall. As she reached the top of the hill and turned a corner, two stone pillars and a deliberately unhewn chunk of marble announced that this was the territory of Geza Ioveanu.
It was an odd community, a small town inside a city. The gargoyles lived a strange juxtaposition between the sky and the land, preferring residences high up and sneering with contempt at those grounded by their wingless state. But, at the same time . . . no one could escape gravity. They drove through a neighborhood of regular one and two story homes, and though many of them had balconies, some didn’t.
“I thought rich gargoyles all lived in high rises and towers,” Bea said, looking around as she drove.
“We’re wealthier as a community because we live longer, but not everyone is a prince or member of the court. The towers are mainly for his family and staff. The ones who don’t mind living in human territories will buy condos on top floors though.”
She’d seen advertisements over the years, e-brochures touting fancy, railing less balconies made of glass. The kind of condos and homes appropriate for a gargoyle.
Prince Geza’s towers were nestled on several acres of uncleared land, the tall, stone structures peeking through a fluff of trees surrounding them.
“Why stone?” Bea wondered. “It looks so medieval.”
Veda snorted. “That’s the point. Some people just don’t want to come into the future. Mostly because it's a future where humans and females aren’t serfs.”
Ugh. When she passed through the gate, Veda speaking briefly to security, traveling up the long drive and past the visual barrier of forest, a modern, white compound connecting the three towers was revealed. Windows lined the side facing the gate, and she glimpsed green on the roof as well as a few people strolling across, as if the top of the home was an outdoor hallway. She watched as a person disappeared into one of the towers and realized the flat top of the compound was indeed outdoor living space.
“But,” Veda said, “Prince Geza’s father had this modern living space built during his time. The towers used to stand separate from each other. It was very primitive. There really isn’t that much room in a tower except going up, no matter how wide the base.”
Bea parked in a small lot reserved for wingless guests, waved through by more security with a digital checklist. They scanned her identification and Veda’s as well before allowing them through. Bea paused when she emerged from the car, looking up the height of the lofty stone tower.
“It looks like one of the old skyscrapers downtown,” Bea said. Intricate architecture and the kind of work done by hand. As they walked around to the front, Bea almost tripped because she was busy admiring the vintage beauty. Heavy double doors of dark wood, trimmed in iron, were open, allowing other guests who chose not to fly inside the building.
“Party is at the top,” Veda said.
“Please tell me there’s an elevator.”
“Would I lie to you, honey?”
She didn’t lie, but she did pause frequently, so Bea could catch her breath. She wasn’t exactly out of shape, but the normal course of exercise for her was to shake her ass to a dance vid in front of the television. She was on her feet eight to ten hours a day, and Aeezah was an active child . . . but stairs.
“You could use some training,” Veda said, not out of breath. At all. “Your energy is good, and you have nice arms, but a few flights of stairs shouldn’t kill you like this.”
“A few flights?” Was the woman insane?
“I’ll talk to Niko. He’ll know how to help get you into fighting shape.”
They started back up the stairs, gargoyles eyeing them in curiosity as they flew up. Bea envied the wings, she truly did.
“This is all residential?” Bea asked. “And why would I need to get into fighting shape? Aren’t the drills enough?”
“Yeah. The low buildings are for administration and formal meetings. The towers are mostly suites and personal offices. And, because you’re Prince Malin’s human liaison. There’s been talk of you. And, when there’s talk, it’s always good to prepare for the worst. We need to up our game, baby drills won’t cut it.”
“I don’t understand.”
Veda paused. “You belong to Malin. So, you’re vulnerable if someone decides they can insult him by threatening you.”
Bea stared. “He’s never said anything like that.”
“Talk to him about it. He wouldn’t want to worry you, but I bet when there are active threats on he and Surah, he has surveillance on all his high-level employees.”
She wanted to talk about it some more, but the pulse of music distracted Bea. They were on a landing attached to a short hall, and at the end of the hall beyond arches was an open suite. She’d heard though the usual gossip channels that Geza Ioveanu was a younger, more laid-back version of his brother, famous for wild parties. The music certainly wasn’t the stiff, formal stuff she’d expected, but hip and modern.
Veda grinned. “This will be fun.” She grabbed Bea’s hand. “Come on, and remember to stay close, and don’t get too drunk. Geza stocks the good stuff.”
“Dance with me.”
Bea glanced up, startled. Niko stood a few feet away, gaze roving over her body, but it wasn’t lascivious, instead, it was as if he’d never seen her before.
“Is this the first time you’ve seen me in a dress?” she asked. She knew she looked good, and having spent an hour drifting among the crowd, realized she was very, very different from the polished, predatory court women present. If she were looking for attention, she’d inadvertently presented herself in the best way possible. As a contrast, and not as competition.
He stared at her, unblinking. “Is that why you think I’m asking you to dance?”
“Yes.”
His lips curved. The smile didn’t quite make it, but the effort was valiant. She didn’t think anything could crack his stony face.
“That’s my sister’s dress. I recognize it. You should keep it—it looks better on you.”
“I’m not keeping Veda’s dress.”
He took her hand, leading her onto the floor. “She’ll pretend she doesn’t notice because that’s more dignified than admitting it makes her look fifteen.”
“And, I don’t look fifteen?”
“You have more gravitas. She hasn’t quite outgrown her adolescent rebellion against authority, and it permeates everything she does.”
Bea’s mouth gaped a bit. The assessment of his sister was cutting, but so matter-of-fact Bea couldn’t consider it mean-spirited.
“She has plenty of clothes,” he added.
She bristled a bit. Was he implying she didn’t?
His eyes glinted as he pulled her into his arms. The beat of the music was a low, not quite fast pulse that allowed dancers to indulge in a slow grind. He didn’t press his hips against hers, a courtesy she appreciated. She didn’t know him well enough for that.
Bea relaxed in his arms, glancing around as
they danced. She enjoyed dancing, and he was a courteous partner, and familiar. Though he didn’t talk much, he’d never been rude to her, and was always helpful in his gruff, abrupt way. He reminded her a little bit of Prince Malin before he’d begun courting Surah. Stern, taciturn on the outside. But, she’d never seen him be rude to a woman, or lord his dominance over a man. It took a rare kind of man to be an alpha, but not constantly piss on the trees.
“I wanted to thank you.”
Bea looked up at him. “For what?”
“You’ve been a friend to Veda. She needs friends.”
“I’m human.”
His expression was inscrutable. “That’s not a bad thing.”
“That not what most gargoyles think.”
“Most gargoyles haven’t discovered fire yet.”
It was such an unexpected, acerbic remark that she laughed. “That’s not true. Prince Malin is wonderful to work for. And, most of the gargoyles who come through the offices on business are polite—even though they look at us a bit askance.”
He made a rude noise. “Malin is an Ioveanu. Don’t let him fool you. They’re one of the last pure-blooded families among us, and are canny enough to hide their elitism behind slick manners.”
“But Surah is half-human. He married her.”
“Surah is an anomaly. And, her heart and soul are gargoyle. He took a risk—the garling is winged, though, so it paid off. No one murmurs against their marriage now.”
“Niko, share the pretty,” a male said, attempting to step into the dance.
Niko stiffened and snapped his teeth at the intruder, and not in a playful way. Bea blinked as he twirled her away, the male backing off with a hasty apology.
“I can’t abide rudeness,” he growled.
“Cutting in during a dance is common,” she said.
His eyes narrowed, and he smiled a bit. “That’s fine. I’ll just spread the word.”