Carson's Night

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  About Carson’s Night

  Praise for Carson’s Night

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  About the Author

  Other books by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  Copyright Information

  About Carson’s Night

  What happened to Carson during the night Tally’s father died?

  It’s August 1977 and weird sculptor Moss Alex Meinhardt lies dead at the foot of an ugly gargoyle he’s half-completed. Natalia Grey’s demon hunter father is also dead and his new partner, the astonishingly sexy Carson Connors, can’t remember how it happened. Carson isn’t sure what role he has played in Natalia’s father’s death, but after one look at Natalia, he does know that guilty or not, he’s doomed.

  The gargoyles Meinhardt carved have been brought to a life they should not have without the help of dark forces she and Carson must defeat — once the gargoyles have risen. The night is hours away yet, giving time for Tally and Carson to explore their explosive feelings for each other.

  What happened to Carson during the night Tally’s father died and what will happen tonight?

  Warning: This short romance features multiple sex scenes, including anal sex, light bondage and the use of sex toys. Do not read this book if frank sexual language and sex scenes offend you.

  No vampires or demon hunters came to harm in the making of this book. Gargoyles have been added to the official hunt list, however…

  This is the first book in The Stonebrood Saga.

  Book 1.0: Carson’s Night

  Book 2.0: Beauty’s Beasts

  Book 2.1: Harvest of Holidays*

  Book 2.2: Unbearable*

  Book 3.0: Sabrina’s Clan

  [*Stony Stories are short and novella length tales featuring the characters and situations in The Stonebrood Saga. They are best read in the suggested order, to avoid spoilers.]

  A Vampire Gargoyle Urban Fantasy Romance

  Praise for Carson’s Night

  Amazon #1 Bestseller, Demon Romances

  Amazon Bestseller, Short Stories

  A new world full of action, mysterious sexy men and stubborn heroines that will sure have readers desiring more and more of. Book Lovers Inc.

  The chemistry and smoking hot rating of this story is right up there with the best of them. Carson’s Night is great for fans of erotica who want a little paranormal added to the lover’s tale. Night Owl Reviews

  If you are a huge fan of erotica romance with a little twist of paranormal creatures, then this novella is the right choice for you. You won’t be disappointed. Vampire Romance Books

  Chapter One

  August 1977, New York City

  Tally moved from asleep to awake in one breath. With the next, she eased her hand under her pillow and gripped the handle of her knife as she pretended to sigh and roll onto her side in her sleep.

  Iron fingers clamped onto her wrist. “It’s me, Tally. Nick.”

  She opened her eyes. The dark shape in the room looked like him. “Turn on the light,” she said.

  He reached for the light without hesitation, proving he knew his way around her bedroom. She stared at the person who eased himself down onto the chair beside her bed. He looked haggard and ill-used and that frightened her enough to sit up in her bed despite wearing only her Pink Floyd tee-shirt and panties. She brought the knife with her. It was an automatic move, a trained move, triggered by the alarmed created by Nick’s appearance.

  Nicholas Sherwood should not look tired. He was a vampire and did not need sleep or rest. Yet he blinked at her now like a man who had seen too much of the night.

  She glanced at her bedside clock. The hands hovered over the two and the three. It would be dawn soon. “Nick?” she coaxed, her heart hammering.

  “I need you to get dressed and come with me, Natalia,” he said softly. He reached down beside him and picked up something. He raised it and placed it vertically between his knees and rested both hands around the long hilt.

  It was her father’s Japanese sword. His katana.

  Nicholas looked at her over the top of hilt. “I’m sorry, Tally. Your father died tonight. You must take his place now.”

  * * * * *

  Tally was too numb to cry, which was just as well, for the cab driver was normal human and they had to guard their tongues. Nick paid off the driver. In the pre-dawn hush the vampire looked up at the flat face of the old dockside warehouse, his expression grim. “Ready?” he asked, settling the light coat around his shoulders better. He was very tall, about six foot two, and the sword made the coat hang awkwardly.

  She shook her head.

  He gripped her shoulder. “Neither am I,” he confessed. “But we must do this now.” He led her with gentle firmness over to a dark doorway. It stood open, a black maw she was wildly reluctant to step through. Inside was misery and death.

  “Where was my father’s partner? The new one?” she asked. “Why wasn’t he watching out for him? Why didn’t he stop this?”

  “Inside,” Nick told her in a murmur.

  “Why were you here, anyway, Nick? You don’t usually work with my father.”

  “Just wait until we get inside.”

  “Why? What’s in there?” She tried to turn to look at him, but Nick’s grip on her arm was too firm. He was a vampire, after all. He could rip her apart like humans can shred paper. She knew that but still, she tried to resist.

  Nick didn’t use his strength against her. He let her halt and face him.

  “What’s inside?” she asked.

  “It’s easier if you just go in and see for yourself.” He tried to smile. “It’s nothing dangerous, for now. I wouldn’t let anything hurt you.”

  Tears stung her eyes. “Too late, Nick.”

  He made a helpless gesture. “I wasn’t here when it happened. I don’t know how he died. I need you to help me figure it out.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because you’re your father’s daughter, and because I trained you. I know what you can do.”

  She sniffed, trying hard to halt the tears rolling down her cheeks. “What does that mean?”

  Nick swore softly, then reached over and wiped her cheeks. “Damn, I wish you wouldn’t do that. It’s a completely unfair tactic, especially when you look the way you do, with those big green eyes of yours.”

  “I thought I was just a lousy human female,” she reminded him.

  “You’re a pathetic human female,” he corrected her. “But that doesn’t mean I’m completely invulnerable to your charms.” He gave her a smile that was full of effort. “I know exactly what you are, Natalie Grey. You are one of the most powerful demon hunters of this age. You just haven’t realized it yet. I want you to see what is inside that warehouse. I think you just might be able to help me.”

  “But you’re not going to tell me anything that will bias my thinking, right?”

  This time his smile was unforced. “Right.”

  She found she was able to approach the warehouse with less reluctance and step inside without hesitation.

  It was dark inside except for the glow of a pressure lantern at the far end. Nick slid the sword out from under his coat and handed it to her. It felt too long and heavy but she hefted it and let the blade settle on her shoulder, which was a good ready position as she had no scabbard for it. She headed in the direction of the glow of the lantern, the flares of her jeans swishing softly in the silent cavern of the warehouse. It was empty and chilly.

  “Tally,” came a soft murmur as she drew closer. “You grow more beautiful with each passing day.”

  Damian. Nicholas’s lover. She felt the
vampire’s hand on her shoulder. His lips on her temple. She looked up into Damian’s black eyes, illuminated in the soft glow of the lantern. His high cheekbones and olive skin and strong jaw line were unchanging, but they were touched with sadness now.

  His long fingers stroked her cheek. “We’ll mourn him, Tally.”

  She could feel more tears building. Vampires mourning the death of a human was a rare acknowledgment. “Not until I find the one who did this,” she ground out, struggling to keep her voice even. “Where is he?”

  Damian nodded. “I’ll turn the light up. Brace yourself, Tally.” He walked over to the lamp, bent over and turned up the gas feed on it. The light spread and brightened, and more of the warehouse appeared.

  She saw her father’s body. Tally moved over to where Peter James Gray lay in a contorted, undignified and bloodied huddle, his guts ripped out, his fingers curled in pain. Tally swallowed back her revulsion and studied the remains as clinically as she could, aware in a distant way that she was shaking violently. She used the sword to prop herself up.

  “G…gargoyle,” she pronounced, wiping at her eyes.

  “Yes,” Nick agreed coolly, next to her. “Your father was hunting one tonight.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “His partner told us.”

  “Where is the toad? I want to talk to him.”

  “In a minute. There’s something else you should see.” Nick nodded at Damian, who picked up the lantern. Both of them stepped to either side of her. Their movement filled her with warm regard. Despite the subterranean keening for the loss of her father, that she had locked away deep inside, she knew she would never truly be alone while Nick and Damian trod the earth.

  They led her through the darkness, past huge wooden packing crates, into another cavernous, seemingly empty room with a concrete floor. This one was just as cool as the last. They stopped at a huge block of raw stone, something that looked like it had been blasted out of the side of a mountain and dumped on the floor, after having the bottom of it shaved smooth and flat.

  At the foot of the rock lay another body. Tally crouched down next to the man. This time the cause of death was a bit harder to establish. When she found it, she grew uneasy. She stood up. “My father must have killed him. With this.” She dropped the sword so the point rested on the concrete. “But why? Who is he?”

  “You don’t recognize him at all?” Nick asked.

  “You don’t know him?” Tally asked. “He looks vaguely familiar to me, but…” She frowned. “Is there an office around here somewhere? Something with paperwork in it? Does he have a wallet on him? A driver’s license?” She squatted again, and patted the man’s pockets and found a wallet in his hip pocket. “Can one of you roll him so I can get the wallet out?”

  Damian lifted the body for her and that was when they found the top of the pentacle painted on the floor beneath it.

  * * * * *

  Damian and Nicholas between them were able to move the stone. Once they had shifted it a few meters away, they discovered the pentacle ran beneath the stone in all directions. Twenty minutes’ search discovered other painted pentacles of the same size on the floor of the warehouse. Six in all, with powerful beckoning symbols in the center of each.

  The wallet told them the name of the man at the foot of the stone was Moss Alex Meinhardt, which meant nothing to either Nick or Damian. Tally knew the name, but could not explain why she knew it.

  After thirty minutes, she called a halt to the search. “There’s nothing here. I was hoping for an office and paperwork that might explain more, but this is just a warehouse. It’s dawn. We have to give up for tonight and clean this up so the authorities have a human explanation they can draw for events.” She looked at Nick. “I want to talk to the partner now.”

  Nick nodded and picked up the lantern. “Damian, you take care of the bodies. I’ll take her to Connors.” He led her back through to the other side of the warehouse, to the far end, away from the door where she had come in.

  * * * * *

  Carson Connors heard the murmur and flicker of light that meant the return of the vampires and stretched his aching shoulders and neck. Maybe now they could sort this out.

  He glanced over to approximately where Peter Grey rested, a black shadow in the dark, and unformed guilt touched him again. What had happened here tonight? No matter how he probed or tried to recall the events of the night, nothing came. No memories formed. There was simply nothing there. No associations to provoke the next event in the chain. He’s broken sweat trying to bring forth the memories, and…nothing. That produced sweat of its own.

  He watched the light draw closer. So who was it the two vampires had rushed out to bring in as a consultant on this? Some heavyweight hunter? Peter James Grey had been one of the best and Carson himself was no slouch — he’d been earning his chops in the field, anyway. He couldn’t think who Nicholas Sherwood would be able to scare up in the greater New York area in late August at a moment’s notice that would be able to help the great Nick Sherwood figure this out.

  The two reached him and Carson could feel his heart seize and his cock stir. Sweet Jesus, his mind murmured as he stared at her. She was quite simply beautiful, with perfect symmetry. Her face was heart shaped, her eyes a stunning sea green, with dark lashes, and strong dark brows, and pillow-soft lips the color of apricots. Her skin was flawless. He had the insane urge to taste it, to slide his tongue along those cheekbones and nibble the corner of her jaw line, and that slender neck rising out of the Dark Side of the Moon tee-shirt. Full breasts lifted the tee-shirt, and the belt pulled the jeans in around a waist that looked like he could put his hands around it. Indecently long legs hidden beneath flared jeans. He’d have those off her. Very soon.

  Then he realized with an almost painful start of awareness exactly where his thoughts and gaze were. He dragged, pummeled, tore his gaze back up to her face. Licked his lips.

  She was staring at him. Her lips were parted softly, and she was breathing quickly. Knowledge. Awareness. It was there in her face. She saw exactly what he was thinking. It was as clear as if she had spoken. She was not offended. She wanted it.

  His excitement spiked again. He clenched his fists, feeling the rope chaff and his cock and balls throb painfully. He was suddenly hot, way too hot. He’d do anything to be able to take off his coat, the coat of his trade.

  He made himself look at Nicholas Sherwood. “I can’t remember what happened, but I know I didn’t cause Peter’s death.”

  She flinched and suddenly he realized who she was. Grey’s daughter. The genetic traits were there, once you looked past her beauty. Grey’s strength was there in her stubborn jaw line, her clear-sighted way of looking. She had Peter’s green eyes, but on her, they were mesmerizing.

  Sherwood had brought her in because the business was now hers. When Peter died, she had inherited it. She had Peter’s Katana resting on her shoulder.

  Carson looked at her. “You must believe me,” he told her.

  “We’ll find out,” she assured him.

  He was impressed. It would have been easy enough for her to simply believe him, to trust her instinctive reaction to him, but she wouldn’t allow herself to do that. She would trust only evidence because she knew she was vulnerable right now.

  She hefted the sword on her shoulder and let the point drop to the concrete to rest. “Do you know who Moss Alex Meinhardt is?” she asked.

  “Sure.” He shrugged. “He’s that weird sculptor nut who carves giant gargoyles.”

  “Gargoyles,” Nicholas breathed. He looked up at the roof. “It’s dawn.” He put the lantern down abruptly and reached into his coat. “The demon brings them to life.”

  “What demon?” Carson asked.

  There was a low, reverberating swoosh overhead. Then another.

  Nicholas pulled out a knife and sawed through Carson’s bonds, freeing his hands. “No time.”

  “I’ll get Damian,” the girl said.

&nbs
p; “No, I’ll get him. I have no need of light. You take Connors and the lamp. Get your father’s body. Take all of them back to my apartment. It’s warded against the demon.” Abruptly Sherwood was gone, leaving the girl and her long sword apparently in charge.

  There was another low swoosh overhead, then a more alarming sound: the crash and tinkle of glass and wood breaking as a roof caved in.

  “Come with me,” the girl said. She picked up the lantern and began to run.

  Carson threw off the last of the rope and followed. Despite the knowledge that there were giant gargoyles pouring into the building, that his partner lay dead and he didn’t know why or how, that a demon was on the loose and bent on mischief and that two vampires were seriously pissed at him for all of the above, he only seemed to be able to focus on the sweet sway of her ass as she ran, and how much he want to cup his hands around each cheek.

  He knew that no matter how tonight’s events played out, he was doomed anyway.

  * * * * *

  It was close to nine in the morning before they made it back to Nick’s place, for carrying a dead body around New York was not easy. But Carson Connors had hidden resources. Once they made it out into the growing sunlight and the immediate danger from the gargoyles passed, Tally’s strength deserted her.

  Connors seemed to sense it, for he lowered her father’s bloody remains to the ground, dropped his coat over them, took the lantern and sword from her and lifted her chin. “I didn’t get your name.”

  She looked up at him. He was taller than she’d first thought. Next to Nick, of course, he’d looked shorter. But everyone looked short next to Nick. Connors had to be around five-eleven, maybe even six feet, and now she could look at him in daylight and without the coat, she could see that he was thick through the shoulders and neck. The baseball tee-shirt was snug around his shoulders and arms. He was dark-haired and his stubble was dark, but his eyes, which she had thought were black, were actually a very dark blue. His hair was brushing his shoulders, as was fashionable these days, and locks hung around his face, giving him a rumpled look that she liked, especially with the stubble on his cheeks.