Primal Bounty_Pendragon Gargoyles

by Sydney Somers

  “Do your eyes always glow like that?”

  She touched her eyes.

  “It’s kinda hot.” Despite the smile in his voice, she didn’t miss the wary tone.

  They weren’t even touching and she could sense the tension coil under his muscles in a way that shouldn’t have been possible. She didn’t need to look to know his wolf was close to the surface.

  If she tried taking the box from him, one of them wouldn’t leave the tunnel alive.

  She walked faster, thinking of her sister. The sister she’d nearly lost because she’d been so determined to help Emma see that she wasn’t as incapable as she believed.

  Elena hadn’t rushed to free her sister when Emma was mistaken for her and abducted by the Callaghan family. They held Elena responsible for trapping their brother in his stone panther form for over a century.

  Even though everything had worked out and Emma freed Cian with a magic that had nothing to do with mystical daggers or breaking a curse, the whole mess could have blown up in Elena’s face.

  Losing Emma would devastate her, and if Vaughn cared for his sister even half as much as she did…

  The increasing darkness as they neared the mouth of the tunnel made the lure of the magic pull at her even harder. Almost as if it knew that once she crossed the barrier it would be too late to ensnare her.

  Her heart thumped, beating in time with the magic that wound around her body, each silken tug slowing her down.

  “Vaughn,” she whispered in warning.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A buzz slid across her skin, and she plunged through the barrier and back into the Wolf’s Den interrogation room. She spun around to face Vaughn as he crossed it behind her.

  They stared at each other, the seconds ticking off in her head.

  He stood perfectly still, nothing in his statue-like expression telegraphing that he was about to attack. His eyes, a glittering shade of ice-blue, didn’t allow for a fraction of relief from the intensity.

  Her gaze fell to his lips, a different kind of longing clicking into place.

  Whatever strings the ancient magic pulled had been severed, relief sliding in and settling her heart. “I’m not taking it,” she finally managed, taking another step back.

  “Not taking what?”

  Mac.

  The sound of the door closing behind him echoed in the room. The barrier had vanished, the illusion of the wall once more intact.

  “Not taking what?” Mac repeated.

  She crossed the few steps separating her and Vaughn and slapped him across the face. Hard.

  Shit.

  Her palm burned like she’d struck a slab of flaming granite. At least it took her mind off the aches that left her body feeling more battered than the cave-in during the Gauntlet.

  She braced herself for retaliation, but Vaughn merely flicked his gaze over her head, watching Mac.

  The Wolf’s Den owner dragged a chair across the floor, flipping it around and straddling it like a bored referee called in to break up a fight he’d rather watch with a cold beer in his hand.

  The former member of the Gargoyle Guard turned casino magnate was best friends with Emma’s mate, Cian. Elena had known Mac long before her twin got cute and cuddly with the gargoyle Elena had accidentally cursed, but the wolf had developed a higher tolerance for her in recent weeks.

  Apparently brothers-in-law were good for something.

  “Not taking what?” Mac repeated in a calm, lazy tone that didn’t match the ruthless reputation he’d earned centuries ago on the battlefield with Arthur.

  “His shit.” She turned away from Vaughn but not before she caught the familiar flicker of playful warmth in his eyes.

  A twisting curl of heat unwrapped in her stomach. First she thought about kissing him and now butterflies? Gods, she needed air or a drink. Probably both.

  “Tell me you’ve reviewed the security footage and know that I wasn’t part of his childish games?” She nodded to the glasses Vaughn had worn earlier.

  Mac snapped them off the table. “If you wanted to game the system, she would have made a better ally than enemy.”

  Vaughn crossed his arms. “She doesn’t exactly scream plays-well-with-others.”

  “You weren’t worried about that when you were thinking of shoving your tongue down my throat earlier,” she quipped.

  Mac snorted.

  “What the hell took you so long anyway?” She pivoted to glare at the casino owner. “You round me up with Beethoven here and then leave him to drool over me?”

  “It is fun getting her wet,” Vaughn confided.

  Of course he went there. Elena resisted the urge to turn and fry him on the spot. Barely. She was too on edge from whatever happened in the chamber and needed to work it out.

  Mac made no move to let her leave, looking like he could watch them go at it all day.

  Okay then. Plan B it is. “Are you hiding from Nessa again?”

  The wolf gargoyle’s usual unruffled demeanor darkened into a scowl. “She’s here?”

  He jumped to his feet so fast the chair nearly tangled in his long legs. He jerked his cell phone from an inside pocket on his suit, his fingers sliding over the screen.

  “Out, now. Before I change my mind.” He leveled Vaughn with a menacing glare. “You get one pass because you’re Briana’s friend, and I can’t afford to lose her expertise around here. But fuck with my casino again and you’ll leave this room in pieces.” He strode out of the room, barking into his phone, “Check all the surveillance footage. I want to know if there are any huntresses on the premises.”

  Elena rolled her eyes. Wolves. Wind them up and watch them chase their own damn tails.

  “Did he just bolt because you mentioned the huntress?”

  “Better ally than enemy, remember?” She wasn’t sure what prompted the comment. She’d sat down at the Blackjack table, dreaming up ways to torment the wolf and now she was making nice? Definitely time to go. “I’d get clear of this place before Mac discovers whatever game you were really playing tonight.”

  He moved faster than she anticipated, catching her wrist. “Worried about me again, Ivy?”

  The same unexpected wave of warmth hit her. Hard. The cocky look on his face told her he’d glimpsed her tracings again. Damn it.

  “Thanks for not throwing me under the bus.”

  Increasingly aware of how close he stood, she swallowed the unexpected knot lodged in her throat. “Your sister needs you.

  He nodded, letting his hand fall back to his side. “I’ll owe you a drink when I get her back.”

  “What makes you think I’d have a drink with you?”

  He scoffed. “Because you’re already half in love with me.” He walked to the door. “You hit like a girl by the way.”

  A burst of blue flame left her palm and slammed into the wall next to his head, coming just close enough to make him tense.

  She walked past him, smoothing the frayed and super-heated edges of her nerves. Halfway down the hall, she glanced over her shoulder.

  He leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, a knowing grin on his lips as if he’d expected her to turn around and she hadn’t disappointed.

  He winked. “See you around, Ivy.”

  ***

  For the tenth time in the last hour, Elena caught her thoughts drifting to the wolf.

  No it wasn’t the gargoyle, she decided, it had to be the box. The box that stirred something inside her and somehow intensified a minor attraction to Vaughn that she would have otherwise shrugged off.

  That made the most sense.

  She certainly wasn’t that interested in the wolf. Not the kind of interested that led to wondering how good it would feel to kiss the gargoyle, feel his fingers skim her nape as he tightened his hold.

  Someone cleared their throat, and she noticed the dealer waited for her to decide her next move. She blew out a breath and tapped for another card bringing her total to twenty-two.

  Busted.


  Just as well. The game no longer interested her anyway. She left the Blackjack table, but remained in the casino, refusing to forfeit the rest of the evening by wondering where Vaughn was headed and what he was doing with the magical object he’d stolen.

  Obviously, whatever hold the object in the box had over her continued to linger since she continued to think about Vaughn.

  Not even Constantine’s dagger had so profoundly affected her when she’d harnessed the magic in the blade and accidentally turned Cian Callaghan into an over-sized paperweight for a hundred years.

  She never before encountered magic as old as the daggers Constantine had crafted after Arthur’s fall centuries ago. Not until tonight.

  The magic that hummed under her skin in the chamber felt far older than whatever magic Constantine and the Lady of the Lake had used to forge the six daggers rumored to be the key to finding Excalibur and resurrecting Arthur.

  When Constantine, Arthur’s heir, disappeared with the six daggers, Arthur’s followers lost the leader they desperately needed. Morgana had claimed Camelot with little opposition, and although she’d held the city for centuries, she still hunted for the remaining daggers.

  If the object Vaughn had stolen tonight was as powerful as one of Constantine’s daggers, then no doubt Morgana, along with countless other immortals, would be highly interested in it.

  What exactly had been in that box? Even though something about the magic repelled her, its siren’s call hadn’t dissipated entirely. And no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t figure out if she’d imagined someone calling her name.

  How hard would it be track Vaughn and get a closer look at his prize?

  No.

  Better to keep her distance. She had more than enough on her plate and no desire to go down any more rabbit holes with Vaughn.

  Determined to put the whole thing out of her head, Elena wandered the casino, only to find herself watching the staff. No one seemed on alert or searching for anyone.

  How long before someone discovered they’d been ripped off? No one would store something that powerful in some veiled vault beneath the Wolf’s Den without checking on it once in a while. Unless they had no reason to believe the vault could be breached.

  No. No one with enough power to afford locking away pieces like that would assume they were untouchable. They held onto their power because they knew there was always someone waiting to steal it from them.

  Recognizing the restless energy that would eventually prompt her to seek out Vaughn if she didn’t get a handle on it, she decided to return to her suite. A quick call to Nessa was in order, assuming the huntress wasn’t preoccupied hunting wraiths in Avalon at the moment.

  There was never a shortage of excitement when the huntress was around, and it was always a riot to watch her get under Mac’s skin, even when Nessa wasn’t in the immediate area.

  Mood boosted, Elena let herself into her hotel room, kicked off her heels and made it five feet into the suite before she stopped.

  No way had she left any water running.

  She followed the sound to the bathroom off the master suite. Steam poured from the room when she opened the door. Her eyes locked on the shadow behind the frosted glass.

  Vaughn.

  He slid the door open, his grin boyish and nearly irresistible. Nearly. “Have dinner with me.”

  “I don’t date dogs.”

  “Who said anything about dating?” He pushed the door open, looking like he belonged in a bathroom she didn’t make much effort to keep tidy during her stays.

  He held a pink bottle of shampoo. He flicked the cap open and sniffed at the contents, grinning. “Smells like berries.”

  “The store was fresh out of rawhide scent.”

  Vaughn wasn’t the first naked man to hop into her shower, but he was the first to look comfortable surrounded by everything from the pastel pink loofahs and bottles of body wash, to the makeup scattered across the vanity and the lingerie on the floor.

  “I’d ask who you conned into letting you in here, but from what I saw tonight, you could have teleported in like a huntress for all I care.”

  “Care to join me?”

  For the first time since she walked into the room, she let her gaze wander past the powerful shoulders she’d grabbed when he hauled her out of the hole earlier, and down his chest. From there she followed the faint dusting of hair to where it tapered below his navel.

  Okay, so maybe the gargoyle had more going for him than just his eyes.

  From the corner of her eye she saw his smile deepen, and jerked her gaze away.

  “Just to be sure I’m connecting all the dots, after making me an accomplice tonight and breaking into my hotel room, you now want me to hop in the shower with you?”

  “It didn’t sound quite that dirty in my head.” He shrugged. “But I can work with it.”

  He could, could he?

  She tugged her shirt over her head. “Will you scrub my back for me?”

  The laughter faded from his eyes.

  “Unless you’ve changed your mind,” she pressed.

  He followed her movements as she unzipped her skirt and pushed it down over her hips, staring for a long moment as the black material pooled around her feet.

  Beneath her annoyance and cool determination to remind the wolf she wasn’t impressed, threads of heat wove through her belly.

  Vaughn rested an arm on the shower door. “I’ve never actually seen the whole deer caught in headlights expression on someone’s face before.” He frowned thoughtfully. “You’re spooked.”

  To prove to them both that there was no way one wolf gargoyle spooked her, she reached back and undid the clasp on her bra. The straps slid down her shoulders, held in place by the arm pressed across her chest. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Do you honestly expect me to remember anything you say when you start taking your clothes off?” To punctuate his point, he let his gaze caress everything from the roots of her dark brown hair to her pink toenails.

  His eyes lingered on her feet before finally returning to her face. “You’ve given me a new appreciation for that color.”

  For reasons she couldn’t identify, his words made the threads in her stomach pull tight. Or maybe it wasn’t his words at all, but the smile that lit up his eyes making him adorable and playful and sexy all at the same time.

  And no doubt the wolf knew it.

  The reminder managed to slow the rapid beat of her heart.

  “I have to say, I didn’t expect such a friendly reception.” His voice dropped to a rough quality she might have appreciated under different circumstances.

  She closed the remaining steps between them, unable to make herself let go of the bra that shielded her despite her comfort with her body.

  Vaughn reached out, curling his fingers around one of the straps, skimming her skin in passing.

  This time there was no ancient magic for her to blame when she shivered in response to Vaughn’s touch.

  “Yes.” It was more of a growl. “I will definitely scrub your back, Ivy,” he added when it took her a moment to remember what they’d been talking about.

  Drops of water rained down on the hand she lifted to his chest, nudging him back into the shower. Warm and wet, the muscles tensed under her palm, and then a soft, contented rumble shook her.

  She jerked her hand back, using the magic wrapped around her in nearly suffocating waves to slam the door shut, sealing him in the shower stall.

  “Time to cool off, Snoopy.” She scooped her clothes off the floor and was halfway to the door when he yelped at the arctic change in temperature she manipulated with her magic.

  She grinned and kept walking, pulling her clothes back on as she went. She had her skirt zipped and was reaching for her heels by the door when the sound of glass shattering made her sigh.

  She slid her heels back on, ignoring the sliver of protest her feet made. “I’ll have Mac bill you for that.”

  She glanced
over her shoulder at the gray wolf behind her. Bigger than she remembered and with the same jaw-dropping blue eyes, the wolf padded toward her, dripping water on the carpet.

  “Vaughn,” she warned, reading the wolf’s intentions with every wag of his damn tail.

  He shook his furry body, flinging icy drops in her direction. Finished, he sat back on his haunches, watching her.

  Needing a moment to think about how she was going to retaliate—because it needed to be really, really good—she walked past the animal, mentally daring him to lick her, and headed back into the bedroom.

  The wolf was smart enough not to follow her. At least not right away.

  She dried herself off and slipped into a pair of fitted black pants and strapless black shirt that resembled a corset. She dug her sandals from her suitcase, bent to slip them on just as Vaughn knocked on the doorframe.

  A towel hung low on his lips, reminding her of the day they’d met.

  “Am I supposed to be impressed?”

  He crossed his arms, leaning in the doorway. “Are you?”

  “I’d give you my I couldn’t give a flying fuck expression, but I’m not sure you’d recognize it.”

  “Struck a nerve earlier, huh?” He straightened and took one predatory step into the room and stopped. “I wouldn’t be here if I thought all I had to do was hop in your shower to get you into bed.”

  She arched a brow.

  “It would have been a nice perk,” he admitted, “but—”

  “You like the hunt,” she finished. “Wolves,” she muttered, snapping up the phone she’d forgotten on the bedside table earlier.

  Vaughn moved, but didn’t get far. She slammed him against the wall with an energy ball she’d deliberately weakened.

  “You don’t want to call security, Ivy.”

  The hell she didn’t. She couldn’t be bothered to deal with him when Mac would take him off her hands, no questions asked.

  Well, she might have to explain the busted shower.

  “We both know you could have called the second you found me in the shower.”