Jasper

by Faith Gibson

  “If you’re sure you don’t need anything,” Isabelle said. Trevor couldn’t imagine going through what she had. The son she almost lost was over an hour away. If Trevor ever had a kid, he’d never let him or her out of his sight. Probably a good thing he’d never have one.

  “I’m sure. Go home to Connor and give him a hug for me.”

  Isabelle placed her palm on his cheek, and Dante gave his shoulder a squeeze. They told him to tell Travis they’d be back the next day. Trevor remained in the hallway as the two of them clasped hands and walked away. Before he went back into his brother’s room, he sent up a prayer to the cosmos for whoever was listening to please keep Jasper and the Clan safe.

  Theron was pacing the floor of his temporary home, waiting for his sister and her lackey to arrive. Sergei was useful, even if he was a human. Kallisto had grown on him over the years. When his father hooked up with her human mother, Theron had confronted Alistair, calling him the worst kind of hypocrite. That was the first and last time he had disrespected his father. Alistair might be old, but he never stopped training. He wasn’t as big as Theron, but he was quick, and his contempt for most everyone and everything fueled his beast.

  Kallisto had bugged the piss out of him when she was younger, but now that she was a grown woman, she had proven both her loyalty and her worth to the family. She was able to travel around unnoticed much easier than he was. She also had access to people that he did not. It was the reason he had sent her after the ingredients he needed to take down Phelam once and for all. Not Phelam. His male was going by the name Jasper now. What a stupid name. Phelam was manly. It represented a warrior.

  For those few moments he had Phelam in his home, tied up in his playroom, those had been the only moments in his life where he was happy. Theron wasn’t opposed to fucking females, but he preferred males. Gargoyles who could handle a little pain. Phelam had been perfect. At first. He came to him a virgin, and Theron showed him what it was like to be dominated by a real male. He ruined Phelam for all others. He knew they couldn’t mate, both being males, but Theron was okay with that. If he could have this male every night for the rest of his life, he would have settled for that.

  The night Phelam quit fighting him, stopped showing any emotion, he knew the rules of the game had changed. Theron had let Phelam go thinking he would realize what he was missing and return to him, begging Theron to take him back. Tie him up. Have his way with that magnificent body. Theron hadn’t found anyone that measured up to Phelam since. That in itself pissed him off. What pissed him off more was the fact Phelam was okay with fucking humans. Theron had sent Craig in as a test. When he finally caught up with Phelam after a couple of centuries, he wanted to test the waters. Find out where his head was. He arranged it so Craig seduced Phelam.

  The plan was going along well until the stupid human started having feelings for Theron. He turned his attention away from Phelam and attempted to seduce Theron. Craig begged him to give him a chance. Told him he could be the man Theron needed. He didn’t need anyone else. Craig was a strong human; Theron would give him that. But he was no match for Theron, and he could never replace Phelam. When the opportunity presented itself, Theron disposed of Craig, pointing the blame toward his male. If he had arrived in New Atlanta and found Phelam with a Goyle, he would have forgiven him. Instead he found him smiling at the human, his face lighting up as if the kid hung the blessed moon. That was unforgivable.

  The sound of a car in the driveway brought Theron’s thoughts to the near future. His sister had gathered the items he needed to punish his male. If he couldn’t have Phelam O’Donnell, no one else could, either. Least of all a human kid.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jasper couldn’t sleep. His mind wouldn’t stop swirling with thoughts of Trevor. Jasper snuggling the pillow Trevor had slept on probably didn’t help. His delicious scent was embedded in the cotton fabric. When Jasper clutched the pillow to his chest in hopes it would soothe him, it had the opposite effect. He pushed the pillow back to the opposite side of the bed, but the damage had been done. Jasper folded back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He ran his hands through his hair and down his face. When he scratched his beard, he remembered Trevor pulling on it and biting at it. He would never shave again if his mate liked it that much.

  Jasper took a cold shower, his second in the few hours he’d been home. His first had been after he went patrolling. It wasn’t his scheduled night, but he needed the release that taking out some Unholy gave. It also gave him an opportunity to be on the lookout for Theron and his sister. With Kallisto having a hand in both Isabelle and Sophia’s troubles, she was almost certain to be back in the city to help her brother. Jasper had never struck a woman, but if Kallisto even thought about harming one of the mates or children, he would not hesitate in taking her out. She’d already proven herself to be as evil as the Goyle who raised her.

  Dante had called late in the evening to let Jasper know Trevor was agreeable to moving in with Frey as long as Travis came with him. They were both guarded in the hospital by a Gargoyle. Once Travis was released, someone would need to be with them both until the funeral was over. Hopefully, they could then convince Travis to come to New Atlanta with Trevor where they both could be guarded by someone in the family. Jasper hoped he could locate Theron and put an end to him sooner rather than later. He wanted to be there for both Trevor and his brother at the funeral. He felt like he’d abandoned his mate, even if he was staying away to keep him safe.

  Jasper had a few hours before he was scheduled at the station. With Pax working the murder case in Athens, it was easier to go about his business than if a human was investigating. The local Goyle knew who was responsible for the attack since he was there when the attack at Travis’s took place. He was the one who saw Theron running out the back, so he knew what the killer looked like, even though it was Jasper’s gun used in the murder. Julian assured him the alarm system was back online, but what good would it do if Theron wanted back into Jasper’s home while he was away at work? He had to find the bastard.

  While contemplating on calling Urijah and asking him to open the gym early, Jasper’s phone rang. Speak of the Viking... “Uri, what can I do for you?”

  “Good, you’re awake.”

  “I have a feeling I’m not going to sleep much until Theron is out of our hair.”

  “I don’t sleep a lot anyway. It’s overrated. Since you’re up, I was hoping to stop by and maybe do a little moonlight sparring.”

  “Yeah, come on over.” Jasper hung up and put on something suitable for a swordfight. He didn’t know where Urijah lived, had never seen a need to ask him, so he had no idea how long it would take the Goyle to arrive. He barely had time to finish one cup of coffee when he heard a vehicle coming down the driveway. All of the Gargoyles had multiple vehicles. Most of them had a motorcycle to ride as well. Urijah was currently driving a blacked out SUV. He got out and opened the back door. He removed two swords before making his way to the house. Jasper opened the door just as Urijah stepped onto the porch. “Come on in.”

  Uri didn’t bother looking around. He made his way to the kitchen where he placed the swords on the island. “Mind if I have a cup of coffee before we start?”

  “No, cups are…”

  Urijah opened the cabinet above the coffee maker and grabbed a mug. After he poured it full, he turned around, settling his ass against the counter.

  “I take it you and Finley hung out?”

  “Yeah. I miss the bastard. I probably spent more time here than I did at my house. I love the solitude of the woods. The quiet. When I moved to New Atlanta, I had come from New Orleans and didn’t give a shit where I landed, so I took the first place available. It’s not bad as far as houses go, but it isn’t as secluded as this place.”

  “Why don’t you look for something else?”

  “Because I haven’t decided how long I’m staying. Fin was my best friend for twenty years. He’s got his life on the West C
oast now, and he keeps asking me to join him.”

  “You’ve lived in a house you don’t like for twenty years?”

  “Like I said, I spent most of my time here.” Uri shrugged. “Now, I’m either at the gym or the armory.

  “What if you find your mate? What then?”

  Urijah took a sip of coffee before answering. “I think that boat’s already sailed.” He pushed away from the counter and rinsed his cup in the sink before putting it in the dishwasher. “Let’s go try out these new swords.” Jasper let his comment about a mate slide. He wasn’t one to pry, because he knew what it was like to want to keep your past hidden.

  Once outside, Jasper took the weapon Uri offered. If he didn’t know better, he would think he was holding his beloved claymore.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but after we left the armory, I went back and forged another weapon similar to yours. I wanted you to be able to practice with one that’s familiar to you so you can save your claymore for the real battle. Since yours is protected with the hellebore coating, I didn’t think you swinging it at the Clan was a good idea. I’ve seen you get lost in your memories. I’d hate for you to take down one of our own by mistake.”

  Jasper swung the weapon, getting used to the feel and balance. It was almost identical to his old one with the exception of the hilt. This one wasn’t worn where his hand had held it for four hundred years. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Can I ask you a question?”

  Jasper wasn’t sure where the Viking was going, but he liked Uri and considered him a friend, not just a brother. “Of course.”

  “If I’m not mistaken, the claymore was used by the Scottish. Aren’t you Irish?”

  “You’re not mistaken. My chieftain preferred the slanted cross guard of the claymore to the straight one of the Irish sword. He claimed to get a better grip. Once I fought with it a few times, I had to agree. I never used anything else afterwards.”

  “Makes sense. Now, let’s find out how it swings.”

  Jasper enjoyed sparring with Urijah. They were evenly matched, both having been born with a sword in their hand. They spent a couple of hours showing each other moves and countermoves they had learned over the years. By the time Jasper walked into work, his mind was clearer than it had been in days. He helped Dane go over paperwork that was piling up due to the recent spike in crime around the city. Like Kaya, Dane went over every report that was filled out. Jasper had offered to help when he noticed Dane getting stressed.

  “I don’t know why I agreed to this,” Dane told him as he handed him another folder. “I’m not cut out for reading reports. I feel like a fucking school teacher grading papers. And where did some of these recruits go to school? Can you read this?” He handed over a sheet of paper and closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

  Jasper laughed. “It’s only eight o’clock, Boss. Our day has just started. And that says the homeowner shot the teen in the ass with a BB gun.”

  Dane took the paper and reread it. “I’ll be damned.” Dane had already conducted roll call and handed out assignments. He had asked Jasper to stick close by and help him with the reports. If there was another murder, he wanted to go out in the field with Jasper. He couldn’t blame Dane. Jasper wouldn’t want to be stuck behind a desk all day either.

  “What the fuck?” Dane slammed a report down on his desk.

  “What’s wrong?” Jasper picked up the report when Dane stormed out of his office. A waitress at a local diner had been assaulted. Marley Sperry. Oh shit, that was Dane’s Marley. His mate. No wonder he was ready to rip someone’s head off. Jasper had a feeling Dane had left the building. He continued reading over reports, making notes that Dane might want to look at. Some of the cops he worked with were excellent policemen, great assets to the precinct. Some were lazy bastards who couldn’t spell their own name.

  His cell phone rang. “Sixx, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Hey, Jasper. I’m helping Julian watch the security cameras, and I recognized the woman in the picture Connor drew of Trevor. She got into a black SUV with the same license plate we saw earlier. Julian’s working on figuring out where she went.”

  “If we can figure that out, we can get a line on Theron.”

  “Truth, Brother. How’s Trevor holding up?”

  “I guess he’s fine. I haven’t spoken to him since last night.”

  “It’s a tough spot you’re in. I don’t envy you.”

  “No tougher than yours.” Jasper couldn’t imagine having not only a mate but also a child out in the world, not ever seeing them. At least Trevor was close by.

  “You take care, and let me know if I can do anything on this end.”

  “Thanks, Sixx. Just keep looking at those monitors.”

  “Will do.”

  Jasper appreciated the Clan now more than ever. He kept waiting for a call to come in stating another body had been found, but the day went by mostly uneventful. In a city as big as New Atlanta, crime was always happening. He thanked the gods it had been petty stuff all day. Neither Dante nor the crime lab had found any usable evidence at the scene of the last murder or on the body. Theron and his accomplices were being careful. It didn’t matter, though. When Jasper caught up with the Goyle, he was going to take him out. If he had to move away from New Atlanta afterwards, so be it, but he would not let his past continue to haunt his present any longer. Jasper would do whatever it took to protect the new family he’d been welcomed into.

  Dane knew it was a stupid move on his part, but there was no way he was going to sit by while his mate was assaulted and not check on her. He drove to the diner on the off chance she was working. He didn’t have to get out of the car to know she wasn’t there. He drove out of the city to the small neighborhood where she lived. As soon as he found out she was his mate, Dane had done a background check on her. She was single, thank the gods, and lived in a small two-bedroom house with her best friend from high school. Her parents, both living, currently resided in a small town two hours south of New Atlanta. Marley had one older sister but no brothers. Her record was clean. Her credit was good. He felt like a jerk for invading her privacy like that, but he needed to know who he was possibly letting into his life permanently. After seeing the other Gargoyles and their mates, he had no doubt he would eventually give in to the bond. First, he wanted time under his belt as chief so he could get into a routine before adding a woman to the mix.

  He probably should have called, but he found himself knocking on the front door. Female voices called back and forth on the other side.

  “It’s a man,” a voice yelled from right inside the door.

  “What man?” Marley’s muffled voice asked from farther back in the house. She must be in her bedroom.

  “I don’t know, but he’s fucking gorgeous.” Even if Dane didn’t have shifter hearing, he would have heard the roommate.

  “It’s Police Chief Dane Abbott,” he announced before the roommate further embarrassed herself. Then again, she might not be embarrassed. She might be as brazen as Tessa.

  “It’s your cop guy,” she yelled to Marley. Her cop guy?

  “Oh, God, Cammie, stall him. I look like crap!”

  The deadbolt turned and the door opened a crack, the security chain giving the young woman a false sense of security. “Identification, please.”

  Dane smirked and pulled out his I.D., flipping the wallet open showing his credentials. The badge hanging around his neck must not have been proof enough. The door closed, the chain slid, and the door opened. “Can I help you, Chief?”

  “I’m following up on the incident at the diner between Miss Sperry and her assailant.”

  “Since when did the Chief of Police start making house calls?” she asked, cocking her eyebrow.

  “May I come in?” Dane was tired of standing on the porch when Marley was inside.

  “Sure.” Cammie stepped aside allowing Dane entrance into the small house. It
was neat, if sparsely decorated. The roommate didn’t move from the door. She was drinking in all six feet three inches of the man who’d come to check on her friend.

  “Ma’am,” he said, getting her attention. “Miss Sperry?”

  Cammie didn’t blush at being caught ogling him. Instead, she bit her bottom lip and groaned. “I’ll just, uh, go get her.” She turned back for one last look before disappearing down the hall. A door opened and closed, then “You didn’t tell me your cop guy is hot as fuck. He could be a cover model.”

  “Shh, he’ll hear you. Shit, I can’t let him see me like this. I need to take a shower. Do my hair. Dammit! Why did that asshole have to hit me in the face?”

  Dane had heard enough. The motherfucker hit her. Why wasn’t that in the report? He strode down the hall and threw open the door. Cammie jumped, and Marley squeaked. Before he could stop, Dane had Marley’s face in his hands inspecting every inch of her normally pristine skin. “I’ll kill him,” he seethed.

  “I don’t think you should be saying stuff like that, being Chief and all,” Cammie said.

  Dane cut his eyes to the roommate and said, “Out. Now.”

  She looked at Marley who could barely nod considering her face was clamped tight in Dane’s hands. Cammie gave him one last look and left the room. When they were alone, Dane smoothed Marley’s crazy bed hair away from her face and kissed the spot where a man’s hand had hit her. He kissed her forehead then looked into her beautiful hazel eyes, still holding her face. “What happened?”

  “Remember the man who tried to rough me up a few weeks ago that you stopped? Well, he came back. Sat at the same table. I tried to get Roberta to take his order, but she was swamped.” Marley wrapped her hands around Dane’s wrists, the touch sending sparks zinging through his body.

  He closed his eyes briefly, getting his shifter under control and asked, “Then what?”

  “Well, I’ve been taking self-defense classes down at Hartley’s. I’ve only had a few, but I specifically asked the trainer to show me how to get away from someone who grabbed my wrist. It’s what the jerk did the first time. It’s what he did this time, too. Only this time I broke his hold and threatened to call the cops. He stood to leave, and I didn’t bother leaving his ticket on the table. I wanted him gone. He grabbed me again, so I broke the hold, again, and then I kicked him. In the nuts. He howled right before he hauled off and hit me.”