Books of Stone
Found
B. L. Brunnemer
Copyright © 2018 by B. L. Brunnemer
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
For Melissa, Weez and Susan.
Without you three this book would have been in the trash can.
And Cece, thank you for educating me in the proper way to make tea.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
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1
December 15
I made sure to blend in with the crowd of gawkers watching the police work in the alley. It was late, and with winter already upon Chicago not much could get me outside at night. But the news of this latest crime scene sent me running out of my apartment. Something about it didn’t sit right with me. The paramedics started bringing the gurney out; it had a black body bag on it. I sighed. I knew there was no point in hoping. If someone had been injured, they would have moved faster. I waited as they made their way over the snow. Thankfully, I had managed to slide close enough to the yellow caution tape to be near the mouth of the alley as they walked by. I took a deep breath. Sulfur. It was a demon kill. I couldn’t ignore this; I had to get to work.
I started moving back through the crowd when my skin began to crawl. I kept walking away from the people and down the street. Footsteps crunched in the snow behind me. Someone was following me; probably a mugger. Deciding to get this over with, I crossed the street and took the long way back to my car. If someone was following, then they’d have plenty of time to act. The footsteps continued. I kept my pace even, going so far as to pull my gray wool pea coat closed and hunched my shoulders to make myself look small and vulnerable. The footsteps still followed. I sighed as I walked into a dark alley and slowed my pace. My pulse picked up as someone followed me into the alley.
When we were far enough along to be hidden from view, I turned around. It wasn’t a mugger. His dark gray suit and white dress shirt showed off his broad shoulders and chest. His white blonde hair was short on the sides, a little longer on top, but perfectly styled. His piercing golden eyes contrasted with slightly tanned skin. Something about him sent my heart pounding, my skin tingling. I’d never reacted like this to a man in my entire life. It put me on edge. I didn’t know who he was, but even from almost ten feet away I could tell that he wasn’t human.
“What are you?” I asked. His lips moved into a polite smile.
“I’m the same as you,” he said, his voice an odd mix of authority and politeness I’d never heard before.
“Annoyed? PMSing?” I asked dryly. His left eyebrow twitched.
“Gargoyle.” His voice was warm. I eyed him cautiously. Besides my parents, I’d never met another gargoyle. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back as he watched me closely.
“I didn’t know there were other gargoyles in the city,” I said slowly, examining him. He looked amazing in that suit but it was his face that held me. His face was perfection. Straight nose, elfin cheekbones and jawline. Just perfect masculine beauty. He would have women watching him wherever he went. Those piercing eyes met mine.
“There weren’t,” he said as he slowly stepped closer, his hands still clasped behind his back. “My squad only flew into the city this morning. We were sent here to investigate a rising issue.”
I swallowed hard. Squad? There were more of them? I tried to wrap my head around the fact there were others out there. The news knocked me off balance. I could hardly believe it. Since my parents died I’d been alone. But now ….
“I thought I was the last,” I admitted in a whisper. There were others. He went still, his eyes watching me.
“No, you’re not alone,” he said gently. “There are others. Not as many as there used to be, but we’re still here,” he explained as he took another step closer. The scent of old parchment reached me. My body gave a deep, hard throb. What the heck is going on? I looked up in time to see a flare of heat in his eyes. It was only for a split second before his face was blank again.
“Where’s your family?” he asked, his voice appraising.
“They’re dead,” I said absently, trying to understand why I was reacting this way. There was something Mum had said ….
His gaze ran over me before he looked down the alley toward the street. “Perhaps we should have this discussion out of the snow?” he suggested. I nodded.
“Um, sure, there’s a café just on the corner,” I replied, still a bit dazed. There were others. I wasn’t alone.
“My name is Atticus.” He held out his perfectly manicured hand.
“Evelyn.” I reached out and shook his hand. Heat flashed through me, between my legs and over my body. Atticus grunted in pain. I jerked away and backed up. His golden eyes glowed as they watched me, my core aching, my breasts instantly heavy as I tried to catch my breath.
“It’s just pheromones,” he said, his voice strained and his face flushed. Was he telling me or reminding himself?
“I know,” I bit out, trying to get my body under control. What was it Mum said? Something about gargoyle pheromones? I took several deep breaths and focused on the snow around me. I was in an alley in Chicago, not exactly the sexiest place on the planet. When I was calm enough, I looked at Atticus. The flush had gone from his cheeks and his face was blank as stone. “Coffee?” I suggested as I got my breath back.
“Coffee,” he agreed.
We started back down the alley towards the street. The crowd had started to break up, so the sidewalk was packed. Atticus walked beside me, keeping his body between me and the street. His hand hovered over my lower back. The heat coming from him was... different. Comforting. Why was that? Who was this male? Why did he affect me this way? What do I tell him? How much do I tell him? My parents’ warning ran through my mind. Papa had come home bloody one night. Mum and Papa sent me to my room as they spoke in the parlour. Eventually, they called me down. Papa had cleaned up but there were still bruises on his face. He looked into my eyes and said, ‘Don’t ever trust a gargoyle named Cyrus. If you hear that name, you run. No questions, no dawdling. Do you understand?’ I had followed their warnings all my life. But… he wasn’t Cyrus.
When I spotted the café I went to open the door but Atticus was there before I touched the handle. He opened the door for me automatically, as if he'd done it a thousand times. Hesitating only a moment, I moved inside. The blast of heat was nice as I pulled off my coat and headed for a small table away from the other customers. Again he was there, pulling out my chair before I could. Surprised, I sat down, trying not to breathe in his scent. Most men in this century have never been taught how to be gentlemen. It was a nice change. He moved around the table and took the seat across from me.
“I don’t even know where to begin,” I admitted, still off balance.
“Let’s start with what you know,” he
said. I nodded.
“My parents educated me as much as they could before they died,” I began. “I know we’re the guardians of this world, that it’s our duty to take down demons and any other supernatural beings that break the laws.” The waiter came to our table and took our order. As he walked away Atticus met my gaze again.
“That’s a solid foundation,” he said as he absently un-buttoned his suit jacket. “What…." He cleared his throat quietly. "What happened to your parents?”
“A demon killed them,” I summarized. It wasn’t nearly the whole story, but I wasn’t about to go into detail. He nodded as if that made sense.
"I'm sorry they were taken from you." His voice was so sincere that I had to look away.
"So am I," I admitted quietly. The waiter came back with our drinks. I was adding sugar to mine when I asked, "What about your parents?"
He stopped stirring sugar into his tea. "They died. When I was ten years old." His voice was slightly rough along the edges. My heart ached for him. Did any gargoyle parent get to see their children turn one hundred?
"I'm sorry," I said softly.
His eyes rose to meet mine. "Thank you." He ran his gaze over my face before going back to his tea. “So… what have you been doing since they passed? Did you go to school?"
What an odd question. "Yes, I went to school. But I don't have a degree from this century if that is what you mean."
The corner of his lips lifted to a half grin. "A degree isn't always necessary these days." Something about the way he grinned made me want to smile back. What was it about him?
"Only if you want to work as a doctor, or a lawyer, or… well, you see what I mean,” I countered.
His eyes ran over me, curious. "Did you want to be a doctor?"
"No, I was just using it as an example," I explained.
His eyes surveyed the rest of the café before going back to his tea. “Did ... did you want to?"
"Go to a university?" I smiled. “It would be interesting, though I never seem to have enough time. Not between working and keeping the other species in line."
He seemed to understand that. "What kind of music do you enjoy?"
An awkward silence fell as I sipped my coffee. Why was he asking? “Um, you said your squad was sent to do an investigation. Does it have anything to do with that demon kill back there?”
“It does,” he said carefully. “What do you know about the situation?”
“I know it’s the third in a week; it was the first one where I could get close enough to confirm it was a demon kill. I was going to look into it when I noticed you following me,” I explained. His eyes narrowed at me.
“There’s no need for you to investigate,” he stated. No need? Three people were dead.
“There isn’t?” I asked, though his order bothered me. Was his team going to take over? The thought was actually a relief. I had enough on my plate with the store but at the same time... this was my city, my job. I took a sip of coffee.
“No. Because I’ve found you things have changed,” he explained as he pulled out his phone and texted someone quickly.
I set my mug down. “What do you mean?”
He slid his phone back into the breast pocket of his suit jacket. “The Elder Council, the heads of our species, has left a standing order that bringing home females overrides any other objective. It's an old order, left over from our retreat from the cities. But it hasn't been retracted,” he explained. “Getting you home safely is our job now.”
I went still. Did he really just say that? It was disturbing on so many levels I didn’t even know where to start.
“Let me make sure I understand this,” I began slowly. “You are going to ignore the demon kill, not five blocks from where you’re sitting, in order to take me with you?”
He finished his sip of tea. “That is correct,” he said gently. I couldn’t believe this. When did the other gargoyles forget their duty? What made him believe that I would just leave with him?
"What was the order exactly?" I asked, curious.
His lips rose into a grin again. "The exact wording?" I nodded. "I believe it was, 'Bringing all of our females home is now the most important aspect of our survival.'"
"That doesn't sound like an order to me," I told him with a smile.
His grin disappeared. "Believe me, it was."
"But I'm not one of your females,” I countered. "No one even knew I existed ten minutes ago."
His eyes were warm when he answered. "True, but you are still a member of our species." Darn, he had me there.
I tried logic. “I think the murdering demon requires more attention than I do. After all, the point of our species is to protect humans from them.” He took a slow, deep breath and let it out before answering.
“That is true, though, we can’t do that if our species dies out. There are fewer than two hundred of us left,” he countered. “Did your parents tell you what happens if we die out?”
“The barriers between Heaven and Hell shatter: The Apocalypse. Basically, everyone dies,” I summed up. He nodded, his gaze approving.
“With our numbers so low, we can’t protect humans anymore,” he explained, “especially without evidence and with a female in the field.”
I sat stunned for several heartbeats before I could answer. “I smelled sulfur. And a simple trip to the morgue to examine the other bodies will give you all the evidence you need.” I was ignoring the 'female in the field' part for now.
He slowly turned the mug in his hands. “I believe you did. But this order takes precedence.” He met my eyes. “Unfortunately, a female’s role has changed. They no longer do field work or perform investigations. They stay in our community, under guard, as they work for the survival of our species.”
It took almost a full minute for his meaning to sink in. I sat up straighter. “You want to take me back to… have children?” I asked, hoping he just wasn’t being clear.
He set his cup down. “These are extreme times. While it's not our normal way, with our species on the verge of extinction, the Elder Council made the difficult decision to pull all females back home and keep them there to ensure their safety."
“I’m sorry, but no,” I stated, keeping my voice polite. His face became unreadable. “I’m not going to have someone’s child simply because our numbers are low. If I ever have a child, it will be when I choose and with whom I choose.”
“That sounds reasonable,” a deep voice behind me stated. I looked over my shoulder to see another male. From his skin tone, I could tell he was born in a desert somewhere. His black hair was long enough to fall into his silver eyes. His chiseled jaw was handsome.
“Zahur,” Atticus greeted, his voice growing colder. “How’d you get here so quickly?”
“I was in the Veil in Montana. I’ve finally found someone to work on that issue,” he stated from behind me, his gaze going to Atticus. “It didn’t take much to enter the physical world here.” He walked around the table and met my eyes. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“Of course not,” I said.
“Who did you find?” Atticus asked, his voice oddly neutral. I eyed him. I didn't understand the change.
“A long shot,” Zahur admitted, “but the only option we have at the moment.”
“Who?” Atticus asked again.
“A teenage Necromancer by the name of Alexis,” he admitted.
Atticus narrowed his eyes at him. “Have you lost your senses? A teenager? And a Necro at that?”
“I know, but our allies and resources are running thin at the moment,” Zahur pointed out.
“Has she even reached the Veil?” Atticus asked in a patient voice.
“Not yet.”
“Zahur.” Atticus’s voice was stern.
“Then you find someone. Good luck. I’ve looked everywhere and you damn well know we can’t do it,” Zahur countered, clearly done with the conversation.
“Why can’t you fix whatever this problem is?” I asked, cu
rious.
“We can’t interfere if some human throws things out of balance, only if a supernatural does. It’s part of the contracts between Heaven, Hell and Earth,” Zahur explained, his voice tired. The waiter came to the table, Zahur ordered coffee.
After the waiter left, he looked me over. “So, you’re our latest female,” he said. “It’s not an easy job.”
“I’m not having children just to shore up numbers,” I repeated, my voice firm. He raised an eyebrow.
"Interesting," Zahur muttered. "I don't recognize you. What's your family name?"
My pulse picked up. "De Haven,” I lied. I didn't know him; I wasn't about to tell anyone my real last name.
Zahur eyed me, his eyes searching. "I've never heard of that name."
"I wasn't raised with the rest of our species,” I countered.
"Yes, but Zahur is over two thousand years old," Atticus announced. "He remembers every gargoyle bloodline there was." My shoulders grew tense. I started playing with the locket on my necklace; it helped calm me. I needed to change the subject, get them off this line of questioning.
“So, when should we expect the others?” I asked. “I imagine, since Zahur is here, you’ve called your squad in.” They shared a look.
“I imagine that Ranulf will be here by midnight, he had a lead he was following. He took Falk with him,” Zahur offered, his voice telling me that he was aware of what I was doing.
“Then we’ll be on our way by one,” Atticus announced. “We’ll charter a plane and head back.” Atticus turned to me. “We’ll help you pack.” Was he serious? Hadn’t he heard a word I said?
“I’m not leaving,” I stated quietly. They both grew still. I kept my eyes on Atticus’s. “There have been three deaths in a week. I smelled sulfur. I’m going to investigate.” I pulled my wallet out of my coat pocket and paid for my coffee. I got to my feet then met Atticus’s eyes again. “The way a gargoyle should.”
Found (Books of Stone Book 1) Page 1
