Stoneheart

by Cate Corvin

Everyone else looked completely rapturous. The society matron’s handkerchief was forgotten as she beamed up at me with a watery smile, and a few of the bankers were wiping their own eyes with an embarrassed flush to their cheeks.

  Smarmy bastard. He’d probably never seen a corpse cooking inside their clothes. “Just don’t use your magic on me. I’ll fucking smile.”

  Our whispered argument took less than fifteen seconds. Kreslin’s brilliant smile returned effortlessly, I followed suit with far less finesse, and the magic receded. From me, at least. He still had the crowd under his thrall. “When I’m elected Governor, I can promise, from the bottom of my heart, that we’ll form an initiative between humans and gargoyles to ensure more of your fine men and women become the heroes they deserve to be.” He laid a hand over that stony heart in his chest, and the society matron burst into a round of fresh tears. I fought the urge to gag.

  In all fairness, I couldn’t say that Sapphires were the worst of the lot, yet something about knowing a gargoyle had the ability to control how I felt was horrifying on a deeply subconscious level. Gargoyles policed their own, for the most part, but that wouldn’t necessarily stop a rogue Sapphire if they wanted to do real damage.

  “And now, we honor Officer Sterling with the Medal of Valorous Commendation for her courage.”

  A new presence appeared on my other side. I just managed to avoid starting like a frightened weasel in front of everyone, and looked up into one of the prettiest sets of eyes I’d ever seen, smoldering bronze and framed with thick lashes.

  And a pair of curling emerald horns, growing through sleek black hair.

  Dear God, are you serious right now?

  I knew the Emerald’s handsome face on sight. Everyone in New York did, because it graced the news at least once a week, and the gossip rags almost as often.

  Damien Viridios Finances Brooklyn Orphanage. Viridios Enterprises Feeds the Homeless. Viridios Playboy Hosts Supermodel’s Birthday on Private Ocean Liner.

  Damien Viridios, in the flesh—sorry, stone—right beside me. Extending his hand.

  Of its own volition, my heart fluttered a little when I reached out to shake.

  He withdrew his hand and turned to take a bronze star shaped medal from a velvet box that Kreslin held out to him. The ribbon it was attached to shone in the light, a verdant green that matched his horns. Damien caught my gaze and held it as I dipped my head the slightest bit so he could drape it around my neck. The backs of his fingers slid along my throat as he lingered in adjusting it, making sure the medal hung just so. When it was to his satisfaction, he stepped back and smiled warmly.

  “Congratulations, Officer Sterling.” Damien’s voice was as smoldering as his face, deep enough that I felt the rumble in my chest. “Gargoylekind owes you a great deal.”

  “It was nothing,” I mumbled, breaking our staredown to look back out at the crowd to regroup my wits. It was easier to peer at everyone else than gaze too long at the Viridios heir up-close.

  It didn’t help that I was standing between two literal nightmares.

  A Sapphire, a manipulator of emotion. An Emerald, with the power of charisma.

  A match made in Hell.

  “I think our girl’s had enough of the limelight,” Kreslin said, still grinning like the posturing actor he’d been, and the greasy politician he aspired to be. Our girl? Come on now. “I’ll return her to you now, so that you can all offer Officer Sterling your thanks and congratulations!”

  I spotted Sawyer’s rumpled brown hair in the distance like a beacon of salvation. Raising my hand and giving the crowd a plastic smile, I hurried off the stage as fast as decorum allowed.

  A hundred voices chimed around me as I walked, congratulations, cheers… the odd condolence.

  That last one made me shudder. A cop I usually avoided like the plague stopped in front of me. Sergeant Jake Selter’s uniform was a little strained at the seams now, but he liked to act like he was still in his heyday. “Nice work, Sterling,” he said, pumping my hand up and down. “Aberdeen would’ve been so proud.”

  My smile almost slipped. “Yeah, I guess so.” Josh was the last person whose pride I cared about, but Selter had been a mentor and close friend to him.

  “You’re doing okay now? Need someone to talk to, or maybe a shoulder to cry on?” he offered.

  Selter was as pushy as they came. As much as I wanted to ignore him, disrespecting a senior officer never turned out well. “No, thanks, Sarge. I’m good.”

  The brusque reply didn’t stop him. Selter was a damn dog with a bone when it came to me, his protegé’s fiancée. “I’m still not sure Hawkins is up to the task of taking care of you. You come to me if you need anything.” His gaze roved over me in my clingy red dress. “Anything, you hear me?”

  Pig. I jerked my hand out of his sweaty grip and dropped all pretense of camaraderie. “I don’t really need your dick-driven bullshit right now—”

  “Officer Sterling.” That smooth baritone cut across the rest of the vitriol I was about to blast into Selter’s face. Damien slid his arm around my shoulders, as naturally as if he did it every day. “I’d love to have a word with you.”

  Jake Selter’s eyes flicked between me and Damien, clearly weighing his options: dress me down for daring to call him on his misogynistic bullshit, or piss off the guy who regularly donated hundreds of thousands to his department.

  Damien’s eyes narrowed at his stalling. “Sergeant, perhaps you want to find a fresh drink and a new companion.” Selter blinked, turned on his heel, and walked away. I almost had the compulsion to go along with him, but the Emerald’s arm tightened around my shoulders, and his charismatic magic faded from my mind.

  Being affected by gargoyle magic for the second time in one night unsettled me, but at least he’d gotten rid of Selter.

  Unfortunately, I was now on Damien Viridios’ arm. Or under it, since he’d been gifted with improbable height in addition to the vast fortune, bulletproof skin, and obnoxious good looks.

  I caught sight of Sawyer as Damien guided me towards the back of the ballroom, toward the wide terrace that overlooked a cultivated man-made pond. My partner’s usually cheerful face was… crestfallen?

  I didn’t have time to ponder that as the cool night air touched every inch of exposed flesh, which was actually quite a lot of skin thanks to the cut of my dress. The pond glittered, reflecting the lights of the city’s skyscrapers like a pond full of jewels.

  “It wasn’t ‘nothing.’” There was a bite in Damien’s tone that made my hackles rise. I wasn’t in uniform, had no body armor, and the last thing I wanted was to tangle with a pissed-off fullblood.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  He stared at me, taking me in from head to toe. I’d curled my long, dark hair and put on red lipstick that matched my dress and made my green eyes stand out. Despite my best effort, I probably still looked like a slob compared to the kind of women that he was used to being surrounded by.

  But there was no distaste or judgment on his carved face, only irritation mixed with what had to be thinly-veiled interest.

  “You said it was ‘nothing’ when I told you that we gargoyles owe you,” he said, making a visible effort to look less angry when he saw that I’d subtly angled myself to anticipate a blow. “I want to make our position clear. By ensuring that one Opal infant survived, you safeguarded the continuation of House Aerithor. When they say they can never repay that debt, they mean it.”

  I stared up at him. I’d entered the burning condo unit in desperation. It’d been a stupid move, calculated on nothing more than a child’s wail. It could’ve just as easily killed me. After the recklessness of the evening, it was equally likely that I’d have been suspended as receive a medal for valor.

  I hadn’t done it for accolades or a gargoyle House’s debts. “And I meant what I said. There’s nothing I want from them. I’m glad their child’s okay, but that’s it.”

  Damien shifted. The suit he was wearing, perfectly tailored t
o his tall, lean frame, probably cost more than six months’ salary for me. “You’re absolutely certain? There is nothing we can’t provide for you. Money. A house. Vehicles.” He paused. “A promotion.”

  It took everything in me not to sneer at the tabloid darling. “I’ll earn that for myself. I don’t need to buy it.”

  Would his offer have made my life easier? Sure.

  Would it help me sleep at night? Hell no. I’d probably never sleep well again.

  Besides, there was something strangely obscene about the idea of Viridios buying me a beautiful house to enjoy or pulling a few strings to make me captain of my own precinct when I knew I’d gotten the job on the backs of the bodies I’d been forced to step over that night.

  I just wanted to forget all of it.

  The Emerald’s full lips pressed together, and I found myself wondering what kissing a gargoyle was like before forcibly punting that thought aside. Kissing gargoyles never ended well. Even the nice ones brought drama and danger into your life if you weren’t careful, and I’d seen firsthand the damage they could cause.

  “No, I can see you don’t.” He stared at me in consideration, those bronze eyes—almost metallic, burnished, a shade no human eyes had—trying to pick out my thoughts.

  “Have a good night, Mr. Viridios.” No matter how much the public seemed to love him, I wasn’t about to be beholden to the Viridios heir. I’d humored him long enough, but standing out here in the dark with a fullblood gargoyle wasn’t my idea of an enjoyable evening.

  Sawyer would have a drink for me, then maybe we could ditch this joint in favor of something a little livelier in the human sense. Somewhere I could take off these heels and no one dragged me onstage or manipulated bankers’ wives into crying over a joke of a medal.

  I passed through the archway leading back into the ballroom. Maybe it’d been stupid to not take him up on his offer. I could’ve walked out of here with the rest of my life made in the shade.

  But the point stood.

  Officer Sawyer Hawkins cut a damn fine figure in a suit as he came toward me, messy hair and all. He still had that sort of boyish-Americana appeal, even in his mid-thirties, thanks to his open features, tanned skin, and brilliant blue-green eyes. It was too easy to picture him in a 1950’s ad for Coca-Cola.

  And he held a fresh beer for me, mist still wafting from the open mouth of the cold bottle. What a gem of a human being. I really didn’t deserve a partner like him.

  With the night of the fire on everyone’s mind, I was getting more pitying glances than any one person could be expected to handle from my coworkers. They looked at me and they didn’t see Officer Sterling of the NYPD. They saw Josh’s poor fiancée, still broken by his loss.

  “Don’t let them get to you, Zar,” he said, handing me the bottle. His usual crooked smile lit his face, revealing the deep, singular dimple in his left cheek. I inhaled slowly, shivered when his fingers touched mine. Damn, the thing must’ve come right out of the freezer. I definitely wasn’t shivering from the warmth of Sawyer’s fingers.

  “It’d be nice if they’d just drop it. He’s been gone for months.” I drained half the bottle at top-speed.

  I’d grieved, same as everyone else. Problem was, everyone expected me to keep grieving. Nobody knew I’d already moved out of his apartment and given him back the ring before he died.

  I made my peace with it months ago, but there were still cops who called me “Josh’s girlfriend” or his “wifey” when talking about their dead friend, and it rankled me enough that I’d been seriously debating leaving New York, or at least requesting a transfer to another precinct. Some days I thought if I heard “Josh would be so proud of his girl” again, I’d lose my goddamn mind.

  “Dropping it,” Sawyer said, nudging me with his elbow. That was why I liked Sawyer. He’d never, in our entire partnership, referred to me as an extension of Josh Aberdeen. I was just Sterling. “What did Viridios want?”

  I shrugged. “Apparently the Opals don’t have that many young,” I said, lowering my voice and turning my head up to talk into Sawyer’s ear. “I probably could’ve asked for half of New York and they would’ve made it happen.”

  “Missed opportunity,” he said, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

  I cut him a quick smile. Someone else might’ve asked why I was ready to walk out of there sans mansion, Maserati, and private yacht, but Sawyer got it. “I’ll make sure to ask for an entire tropical island next time.”

  “As long as I’m invited. I was a pool boy before I was a cop, you know.”

  “You were not,” I said with a laugh, but now that I thought about it, he did have the dashing good looks and easy charm to pull it off. “But you’re invited as long as you’re willing to wear a bedazzled Speedo.”

  Sawyer snorted. “Psssh. Willing? I have an entire wardrobe of Speedos, organized by color and season.”

  It was easy to forget why I’d been irritated when I was hanging out with my partner. I looked up at him, my mouth already opening to rib him some more, but his gaze moved over my head and landed on someone else. The humorous light of a moment ago faded before my eyes.

  I turned to find the cause and had to tip my head back to look up. Damien’s green horns caught the lights of the crystal chandeliers overhead. He held out his hand, bronze eyes burning into me again.

  “I understand why you turned down our offer, Zara Sterling,” he said. “But as a gesture of our gratitude, there is something I’d like to show you.” He gave Sawyer a tight smile. “Privately, if you please.”

  For some reason—well, aside from the fact that he was a fullblood gargoyle, a world apart from me—something about Damien made me bristle. I wasn’t sure what, nor did I understand how to acknowledge it… or if it was necessarily an unpleasant sensation.

  I nudged Sawyer with my elbow. My partner had never mentioned a hatred of gargoyles, but he looked at Damien like the fullblood had just punted a bag of kittens across the room. “I’ll be right back,” I said, placing my now empty bottle on a passing waiter’s tray.

  Damien suddenly had me against his side again. It wasn’t lost on me that if he squeezed his arm a little too tight right now, my bones would be crushed to dust. “I wouldn’t wait up if I were you, Officer Hawkins,” he said, and smoothly swept me away.

  I caught sight of Sawyer’s face as Damien herded me into an elevator, suddenly feeling like I’d made a very bad mistake going off alone with a gargoyle.

  Sawyer looked pissed. No, scratch that—furious.

  I raised a hand in farewell to my partner as the doors slid shut.

  Chapter Two

  As soon as the doors had closed all the way, I wrenched out of Damien’s hold.

  He let me go.

  I wanted to tear him a new one. Who the fuck did he think he was, acting possessive and telling my partner not to wait for me? But the smarter part of me prevailed and I held my tongue. This man was an ultra-philanthropist and upsetting him was the quickest way to get the NYPD cut out of his charitable donations.

  He pressed the topmost button. The penthouse. Great.

  “What is it you’d like to show me, Mr. Viridios?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and putting a deliberate amount of space between us.

  He didn’t seem fazed at all by my sudden reticence. Damien smiled, a sort of smile that was nothing like Sawyer’s open friendliness, but it still warmed me down to my toes. “You don’t seem like you enjoy the company of gargoyles much.”

  “I don’t.” I lifted my chin, refusing to break eye contact. “You know why.”

  He nodded slowly. “I do. I can also promise that I haven’t used my ability on you once since we met.”

  I swallowed, feeling more unsteady by the minute. Emeralds possessed the power of charisma. Their Houses tended to produce actors, orators, politicians… billionaires. Some could charm an entire room. Some could pinpoint all that charisma onto one specific target and have that person agreeing with everything they sai
d.

  I didn’t feel like I’d been persuaded into coming with him… it’d been my choice, right?

  Taking a deep breath didn’t help, especially since it simply drew more of his scent into my lungs. There was no way to know. What if he’d persuaded me to feel like I hadn’t been persuaded? The whole thing made my head hurt.

  The alternative was just as bad. If I found Damien Viridios astonishingly attractive to the point of wanting to kiss him, that meant I was actually feeling it without his magic influencing me. I wouldn’t touch most gargoyles with a ten-foot pole, but there was just something about Damien.

  “I suppose I have to take your word for it if I want to keep my sanity,” I said with a little half-smile. The human liaisons who served as the go-betweens for the Emerald and Sapphire Orders tended to rotate out far more often than those working for the other Orders, likely because the constant questioning of their own thoughts and perceptions could drive them crazy.

  Damien’s smile dropped. “I can assure you, I don’t make a habit of persuading humankind unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

  “And what constitutes ‘absolutely necessary’ in your opinion, Mr. Viridios?” The elevator ascended in a glass vestibule that was so perfectly clear it looked like we were rising through midair. The glittering sweep of the lake fell away beneath us and my stomach lurched.

  He leaned against the polished brass handrail, not looking out at the breathtaking view even once. I guess if you were a billionaire it was easy to be too jaded to appreciate a beautiful sight.

  “Loss of life and limb,” he said, raising his chin. “If you could, would you do the same?”

  I shrugged one shoulder, uncomfortable with this line of questioning. If I could persuade a man with a gun to a hostage’s head to drop the weapon and walk away… well, who wouldn’t want that sort of power?

  But it could be abused, not just by fullbloods, but by stonehearts—humans given transplanted gargoyle hearts—as well. The incident with the mass suicide of the Heaven’s Bridge cult in 1996 made it clear just how dangerous anyone with a stoneheart could be. Their born-human leader had an Emerald stoneheart. It’d taken a fullblood Onyx putting his fist through her chest and crumbling it into dust to end the carnage.