Locked in Stone

by Tory Michaels

  Oh, right, groping and sucking face with Cal. And she really wanted to go right back to it. Judging by the hard ridge wedged against her belly, she wasn’t alone in that regard.

  “Ye-yeah, Mr. Rollins?”

  “I just wanted a word with you and Cal before you leave. I’m staying in Georgia, but Dennis and Madra will be going out there with you. Plane’s ready, but…”

  She groaned. It was hours until dusk. Were they going to move the gargoyles by van, or wait for them to wake up and provide their own transportation to the airfield? “I’ll be there in a minute.” She exchanged a look with Cal. He grinned and rested his forehead against hers.

  “Good. I’ll grab Cal.”

  Not if I grab him first, she thought, and followed through on that by thrusting her hands over Cal’s ass. Yup, firm and luscious to the touch. He growled, resting his head on her shoulder as he trailed fingers over her side. She managed to say, in a relatively normal tone of voice, “’Kay.”

  Footsteps echoed down the hall and then Cal groaned. “Fuck. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  She blinked and gawked at him. “Are you kidding me?”

  “I mean, not here. God, he’ll give me so much shit for kissing you after all the times I’ve razzed him over women.”

  She lifted her eyebrows. “Really? You think that’s what he’d care about?”

  His gaze narrowed and he pushed away from her to fold his arms over his chest. His expression turned more serious and she sensed him withdrawing from her again. “Look, I don’t know if acting on this whatever between us is a good idea. We’re heading into a really dangerous situation and I need to concentrate on that. Plus, there’s Hung…”

  She rested a finger against his lips, cutting the word off. “No. We do not bring that up. This is the here and now. We live in the here and now. What happened all those years ago doesn’t matter. We’re adults, and unless there’s some Sentinel rule I missed, there’s no reason we can’t explore what is clearly between us. Is there some rule?”

  He stepped back. She didn’t miss the gleam of hunger that he quickly hid behind the mask of stoicism. “Not technically. I just…”

  “No ‘just,’ Cal. I’m not saying I want to date you, or that you want to date me or do anything other than just explore a physical response. Given the T’chan and Rift issue, I think we’ve got bigger problems to deal with. However, there’s nothing saying we can’t enjoy each other’s company, and see where things go, right?”

  Please let him agree. It’s gonna be awkward as hell if he shoots me down.

  One side of his mouth turned up and he nodded. “Yeah, I think I can do that. But your safety comes first, Rose. Always.”

  She bumped his shoulder as she headed for the door. “Yup. Think about it this way: if you’re groping me, it means you’re near me.”

  Rose didn’t give him an opportunity to respond, just hummed under her breath and left the bedroom. For the first time since finding Gwen’s body, she actually felt okay with the world.

  Never mind her impending meeting with the necromancer.

  Despite her grand exit, Rose didn’t move entirely steadily. She’d enjoyed kissing Cal way, way too much and now she needed to get her head back on straight. She paused outside Lucas’s office to finish collecting herself. The door stood open and he was tapping at his computer wearing a funky headset of some sort. Not quite the kind you’d wear to play video games and chat with friends, more like something a receptionist would wear. It looked weird on him.

  “Where’s Cal?” she asked.

  Naturally, she knew exactly where Cal was at that precise moment, given she caught him from the corner of her eye, creeping stealthily out of her bedroom, but she needed to give him a moment so they weren’t discovered.

  Lucas lifted his head and shrugged before bellowing, “Levesque, get your butt in here. We need to talk about the trip.”

  Her ears rang from the volume. Quite impressive, and that admiration was from a woman who knew just how loud she yelled when in her gargoyle form. In her peripheral vision, Cal rolled his eyes before heading in their direction.

  “What’s with the yelling? Can’t you just text?” Cal asked.

  Lucas glowered “We’re on the same floor. Yelling works just fine.”

  “How long until we can go?” Rose asked as she stepped into the office, Cal following.

  “Soon. I’m just finishing arrangements to ship the ‘goyles to the plane. When do you want to call Giles?”

  “Given it sometimes takes him a few hours to get back to me, I’ll text him before we take off.” Whether he’d answer was anyone’s guess. “I’m surprised you’re not going with us too, since you want to throw everything into this plan.”

  “No. I have to stay here and keep an eye on other matters, including coordination of a new review of the material retrieved from Hungary. If Gwen took your sister, there has to be some trace of her. I’m not going to depend on the witch telling us everything. We might have missed something.”

  Based on personal observation, she doubted he missed much.

  “I’m getting spotty reports of other T’chans, and as you might guess, I’m swamped. Central thinks the Asian Rift’s about to pop. That’s why Mr. Ray went to Lhasa.”

  The Training Manual had mentioned the Rift Cycle–they always opened in the same order: Eurasia, South America, Arabia, Indo-Australia, Africa, and then finally North America over a period of three to five months.

  Cal tapped her on the shoulder. She yelped and spun, automatically grabbing for a weapon even though she was currently unarmed and in a house on holy ground.

  Instinct and all that. Heat filled her cheeks. She was as hell.

  Cal leaped back out of reach. “Hey, watch it! I thought we were on better terms now.”

  Since she’d recently stuck her tongue in his mouth and groped his butt, he had good reason to believe that. Her face heated to intolerable levels. “I’m sorry, just nervous. Uh. Oops?”

  He snorted again and eyed her nervously, though she didn’t miss the speculative humor lurking in the hazel depths. “This place is secure you know.”

  Boom.

  The mansion shuddered, as an explosion plunged the house into darkness.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sentinel Truth #6: The battle for Earth never ends. The best we can hope for is a cessation of hostilities, even if only for a generation. Barring that, kick Twisted One ass at every opportunity.

  Rose hit the floor and covered her head. The all-too-vivid memory of Gwen’s house crashing around her battered her thoughts until she realized that this house wasn’t exploding. There was no chaos, no nothing.

  Just silence.

  “Awww, blast it,” snapped Lucas. “A transformer blew. There goes my link with Central.”

  Thanks to the sunlight filtering through the shutters, the office wasn’t pitch-black, but it was definitely gloomy. Rose unburied her head and peered sheepishly up at Cal. “We’re not under attack?”

  He grinned and held out his hand to help her up. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

  She felt the blush sweep over her entire body. Jesus, girl, get your head together. The trembling didn’t abate nor did the adrenaline running through her veins dissipate. She kept her fingers curled around Cal’s, wishing Lucas wasn’t there so she might indulge in a quick grope or something to let out the excess, abruptly unneeded energy flooding her. The ol’ flight or fight response got her every time.

  “Sorry,” she murmured. “Noise like that brings reminds me of Gwen’s house blowing up.”

  In the dim light, a look passed between the men. She scowled and allowed that annoyance to push back the momentary fear the transformer had sparked. Every time she mentioned Gwen, they got that same expression on their faces. She snatched her hand away from Cal’s and glared at both of them. “What? What’s with that?”

  “Spells that blow up buildings are really powerful,” Cal said cautiously. “Did Giles help Gwen with it? Wh
at if the wrong person had been caught up in the explosion?”

  She snorted and cocked her hip to one side. That would explain the look. They were trying to make Gwen come across all evil and stuff, which she of course wasn’t. If she had been, she would have killed her on the Day of Hell, not rescued her…and Reny…and then not told her…

  Rose quickly yanked her thoughts from that treacherous line of thinking. Gwen was good. She pushed out a weak, “The house was in the boonies. Keyed to only go off if there were no humans around.”

  “Not the point,” he said, still with that same cautious tone of voice. “You know magic like that is dangerous and very few can wield it, even fewer who side with the Protectorate. Add in that she admitted to having taken Serenity and lying about it, and can you understand why we’re a little concerned? She’s been lying to you for decades.”

  “She wouldn’t lie!” Maybe she’d just forgotten Reny.

  Yeah, right. Because everyone forgot when they saved two lives instead of one. Not.

  Rose wouldn’t let this distract her. There had to be a logical explanation without turning Gwen into an agent of evil. There had to be.

  Cal slapped his hand on the wall. The noise echoed through the otherwise silent room. “C’mon, Rose. Think with your head, not your emotions right now. She told you that you were the last gargoyle when she knew full well at least one other, your own sister, was still alive. She kept that from you and made you avoid us. Doesn’t that make you wonder?”

  “Yes,” she admitted, cheeks burning. She refused to look at Lucas while Cal reamed her. The big man just stood there, dark eyes fixed on her with no expression. He seemed quite content to allow Cal to carry the conversation, and somehow that just made what they were saying make more sense.

  Cal stepped to the side, blocking her view of Lucas and touched her shoulder gently. “We’re really not trying to stomp all over your memories of Gwen, Rose. She kept you alive and God knows, we’re grateful for that.”

  Warmth washed through her body, battling the chill that the conversation was rippling through her, and she gazed into Cal’s steady hazel eyes. If it were anyone else saying this, she’d kick his ass. But no matter what name he went by, he’d been trusted with her mother’s life, and hers now.

  “We have too many questions about Gwen now to just trust her. The Rift cycle is about to begin. We can’t afford to blindly trust anyone. Try to think of it from our perspective.”

  Oh, he was good at the whole consoling, yet digging thing. So she might as well give in and tell them what she could. “Gwen brewed potions.”

  She took a deep breath to steady herself. Maybe she could convince them about Gwen, about how much she did for other people, and then they’d at least give the witch the benefit of the doubt. Even if Rose was beginning to have her own creeping fears.

  “People all over the world contacted her for her potions, Giles included. She, uh, she didn’t really discriminate in her client base.”

  That didn’t help the cause, she knew as soon as the words left her mouth. Angel-kin wouldn’t work with the Twisted Ones, yet she knew Gwen did and always had. The Twisted Ones paid better too.

  “I don’t know everyone she dealt with. I just handled deliveries for her, dropping stuff, picking up the payments. She picked up my expenses and I liked traveling. She never asked me to kill anyone or do anything really bad. She let me be her front because she needed to stay anonymous after saving me. That’s hard in this day and age.”

  She trailed off, casting her thoughts back over just what she had done during those little trips. Unfortunately, with her niggles of worry since learning about Reny’s survival, some of the tasks she’d performed were cast in a new, far more sinister light.

  …

  At least Rose was finally telling them more about her so-called protector. Cal cleared his throat before he spoke, trying to coax her into sharing more. Any details they could get might unlock clues Rose didn’t even know she held, clues that could lead them to Serenity. “You said payments. Money? Or…something else?”

  The question had to be asked. God help them if Rose had started carrying around dead bodies or something. He knew the sort of potions witches like Gwen brewed.

  Her gaze sharpened, but she looked away, her cheeks turning a pale pink. “Usually it wasn’t illegal. More grey area than anything else. Usually.”

  Lucas muttered to himself and stomped out of the office. “Cal, handle this and get to the plane. I’m calling the power company.”

  Damned coward, taking off. Best get the whole story now. He’d figure out how to broach the whole “Gwen hated you with every fiber of her being” thing later. Like maybe never, if he could avoid it. No one deserved to feel that betrayed.

  “Um, usually?”

  She sighed and prodded at the edge of Lucas’s desk with the point of her shoe. “There might have been a few times where I carried bone fragments or jewelry that probably wasn’t legally obtained. And I sort of procured some supplies for her occasionally, which sort of involved flying around with graveyard memorabilia.”

  Oh, God. He groaned and sank onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. “Grave robbing? You unburied people?”

  “Only a little, and only when Gwen needed it for a potion. I didn’t dig people up to steal! I wouldn’t do it and she wouldn’t ask me to. That’s plain wrong.”

  But stealing body parts isn’t? He rubbed his temples with one hand and flopped onto the couch with a groan. Body parts equaled necromancy, which meant Giles was involved. Jesus, Gwen’s ties with Giles were worse than they’d thought. Best walk carefully. “What sorts of spells use parts from dead bodies?”

  “Well,” she said slowly, tugging on a lock of her hair as she thought. “From this book I read once, there are spells that involve faking your own death. I know the death spell Gwen and Giles cast on her house used grave dirt, and gargoyle blood. Giles didn’t know the blood came from me, of course,” she added hastily, almost as an afterthought.

  “Of course,” he murmured softly.

  How in God’s name had Rose survived twenty-four years in a black witch’s care and remained so completely blind to the woman’s true nature? Maybe they could pull the soul out of the stone without Rose around so she never had to be disillusioned about Gwen.

  At least then…

  “Cal? She never hurt me. She protected me.” Rose dropped to her knees, staring into his face, her unhidden silver eyes wide. “I know she didn’t always associate with the best people, but you have to believe me. She gave up everything for me.”

  Everything but her ties to Giles Jester.

  He touched Rose’s cheek gently and filed his doubts away. They had too much to do. And there was the fact he’d be the biggest bastard in the world if he tried to make her understand.

  “I know,” he said simply and kissed her forehead.

  It was meant as an avuncular gesture, one to remind himself he was supposed to be her guardian, not a potential lover, their brief tête-à-tête notwithstanding. Unfortunately, not all parts of his body got the message and his jeans grew just a bit tighter at the crotch.

  The comfort and lust helped drive his turmoil over the Gwen situation further into the depths of his mind. “Let me go talk to Lucas and then we’ll get out of here.”

  He really didn’t want to be right in this instance, though his gut, and Gwen’s letter, said he was.

  Either way, they still had to get Gwen out of the stone, and to do that, he had to talk to Lucas about Tom.

  Oh joy.

  …

  All of Rose’s flights until that night had either been under her own wing power—always her preference when it wasn’t an intercontinental haul—or in a big, commercial jet liner. The flight from Atlanta to the airfield outside the California town of Davis was quite a different experience for her. The plane was incredibly luxurious, with teak cabinetry, four separate cabin sections—including an area where beds could be made up—and a fairly we
ll stocked kitchenette.

  She was accompanied not only by Cal, Dennis, and Dennis’s sister Madra, but also three other Sentinels. They were all polite toward her, though their occasional nervous and somewhat reverential glances got on her nerves.

  Rose tried to give them a break, given they’d gone most of their lives without meeting someone like her. Yes, she was alive. Yes, she was a Sacred Mother. All of the Atlanta gargoyles and Sentinels knew that. She just wasn’t used to people actually knowing and treading carefully around her because of it.

  Cal, while protective, didn’t treat her any differently. And he was one hell of a good kisser. She licked her lips, eyeing the doorway to one of the bedrooms, wondering if they could sneak away.

  Unfortunately everyone on the plane was awake. With the exceptional hearing of Sentinel and gargoyle alike, they had no real privacy.

  As the plane neared the airfield by U.C. Davis, she peered out the window. It was still quite some time until dawn on the west coast, thanks to traveling west, which was good since she was hoping to make contact with Giles the coming evening to set up a meeting for some time after the next dawn. Her phone had been turned off for most of the flight, but when she’d texted the necromancer, she’d told him she was flying out to California.

  Cal flopped down in the seat next to hers and stretched out his legs with a yawn before he latched his seatbelt. Ever safety-conscious, he was. “How’re you holding up? You’ve had your nose buried in the binder since we took off, but haven’t turned many pages.”

  She’d tried to focus on the info provided on the Sentinels and Protectorate, but that hadn’t gone well. Her mind kept mulling over everything thrown at her in the past two days.

  Their thighs brushed as she turned to face him and a little frisson of awareness traveled through her. The soft leather seat was warm after she’d been sitting so long, but not as warm as the heat that poured from Cal. Both felt incredible. A girl could get used to traveling like this. “Just…nervous.”