Found (Books of Stone Book 1)

by B. L. Brunnemer

  “Demon blood,” I bit out as I watched the muscle of my shoulder start to dissolve. My shoulder was on fire and it was spreading. Ranulf pulled out a large flask and poured it over my shoulder. It was like pouring water on a smoldering log. Smoke rose, and the wound hissed as he poured the holy water over the blood. When it was finally over, I fell limp against him.

  “Don’t ye carry holy water, lass?” he snapped. I wiped the tears from my face before I looked up at him.

  “I left it in the car,” I admitted. He was the first to start laughing, I wasn’t far behind.

  We were still laughing when Falk strode into the chamber, his face hard, his eyes dark. When he saw me covered in blood, both ghoul and my own, his face became deadly. Probably not good.

  “Looks like we’ve been caught,” Ranulf observed.

  “Oops,” I quipped. We both started laughing again. Falk’s face was murderous as he reached down, grabbed my good arm and yanked me to my feet.

  “Hey! Careful of her arm!” Ranulf snapped. Falk just started pulling me out of the room, his fingers digging into my arm.

  “Falk, you’re hurting me,” I hissed, one second away from blasting him off my arm. Falk gentled his grip but didn’t let go. I didn’t try to fight him; the guy was furious right now. Ranulf followed close behind as I was marched back to the manhole we’d used. Falk gestured for me to follow.

  I sighed and started to climb the ladder. When I was almost out Falk reached down and offered a hand to help me out of the hole. When I got to my feet I spotted the others. Atticus was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, his face cold as a glacier. Zahur came to me and started looking over my shoulder.

  “Demon blood?” Zahur asked quietly.

  “Yes, it was my own dumb fault,” I admitted. Zahur took my good arm and brought me over to the side of the Mercedes. He pulled out a first aid kit and began pouring holy water over it. It hurt a great deal.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Atticus demanded, his voice low and icy. I looked up. Only Atticus was glaring at Ranulf. “Going after a fully formed demon on your own? Are you trying to kill yourself?” Atticus’s eyes glowed as he walked to stand across from Ranulf, his posture rigid. “It’s not bad enough that you risked your life, you had to risk hers too? What kind of male does that?” That made me angry.

  “It wasn’t his idea,” I announced. Atticus turned those piercing eyes on me. “I was going after the demon myself; Ranulf figured I shouldn’t go alone.”

  “Lass, let it be,” Ranulf told me softly. I shot him a look. His eyes were calm and accepting as they met mine. What did he want, me to stay quiet while Atticus went after him over something that wasn’t even his plan?

  “This wasn’t your idea, it was mine,” I reminded him. “Why should you be the only one getting in trouble for it?” I turned to Atticus, who had closed his eyes and was taking deep breaths. “The Hunger demon is dead and we’re not. That’s all that should matter.” Atticus turned his back on me, his shoulders still rigid.

  “Zahur, take her home and patch her up,” Atticus ordered, his voice cold. Zahur touched my arm and started to steer me into the Mercedes.

  “Evelyn, if you leave the keys, I’ll bring your car home,” Ranulf offered. I dug into my pocket and tossed him the keys. I gave him a small, apologetic smile before sliding into the car. Zahur took the driver’s seat and drove away.

  Atticus

  She was gone. She was hurt and heading home. My blood boiled as I began to pace. No one moved as I ran a hand down my face. They went after a fully formed demon, with only two of them! Were they insane?

  That moment I realized she was gone was burned into my mind.

  I was discussing what aid the Templars could offer when I realized I hadn’t heard Evelyn’s footsteps for some time. I turned and my chest seized. She was gone. Just… gone!

  My hands began shaking when I told Zahur to take her home. He didn’t argue; he knew me. He got her out of the line of fire.

  Ranulf stepped forward and put his hand on my shoulder. “Breathe, Atticus. She was pretty bad ass in there.”

  I smacked his arm of my shoulder. “She was injured!”

  “She’s a gargoyle; she’s going to get hurt. It’s part of the job,” Ranulf reminded me. A job she shouldn’t have.

  “Over my dead body,” I growled low. When I got back to that apartment I was going to make it clear to her. No more fighting demons.

  Ranulf smirked. “Good luck with that, boss.” Falk snorted in agreement.

  “Get your asses down there and clean up that mess,” I snarled. I needed them gone so I could calm down. Both of them disappeared down the manhole.

  I leaned on the hood of the car and took deep breaths. She was alive. She was being taken care of. It’s fine.

  It wasn’t fine. Feeling this over her... that wasn’t fine. I didn’t need this shit in my life! The way her eyes sparkled as she quoted Hippocrates… I’d never met anyone who could keep up with me until her. And it had to be my Match! I growled as I started pacing again. Feeling was off my menu. It was what kept me calm, and she was fucking with it! I took several deeper breaths, trying to dislodge the vise in my chest. She was fucking fine! Why was I still shaking like this? The ridiculous Matching! Control, Atticus, you need to find your control. I closed my eyes and focused. Control, control, control. My phone rang.

  I pulled it out of my pocket and cursed. It was Cyrus.

  "Yes?" I answered.

  "Did you kill the demon yet?" Cyrus demanded.

  "Yes. She was injured, demon blood,” I bit out.

  "Why was she there?" he growled.

  "She didn't give us much choice,” I stated. "Zahur is taking her back to her place."

  "Keep her off the front line,” Cyrus ordered.

  "I will,” I growled.

  "And keep your distance,” he reminded me. "I can already hear the emotion in your voice."

  I closed my eyes and forced myself to speak normally. "Yes, sir."

  Evelyn

  We stopped across the hall so Zahur could get the large med kit, which ended up being a large duffle bag. I was quiet until we walked into my apartment.

  “This is unbelievable,” I grumbled. It was freaking ridiculous.

  “What?” Zahur asked.

  “I was the one who decided to go demon hunting, Ranulf backed me up, the demon’s dead and now Atticus is angry with him?” I shook my head. “I don’t understand. The demon’s dead. Be happy.”

  “But Ranulf needed to clear it with Atticus before breaking off like that,” he explained. “Especially if you are involved.”

  “Atticus was in that meeting that took, what? Until sunset to get out of,” I pointed out. “Just standing around was useless.” I pulled off my ruined coat and harness. My white shirt was destroyed. Zahur eyed my shoulder again.

  “Let’s go to your bathroom, I want a better look at that,” Zahur said. Still steaming, I headed into my bathroom. “You’re going to need to get that fabric off of you.”

  I grabbed a clean towel from the built-in cupboard.

  “I don’t understand, what is Atticus’s problem?” I asked. “Could you turn around, please?”

  He did immediately.

  Still muttering about Atticus, I pulled off my now destroyed shirt. Even my bra strap had been destroyed. They both took a flight straight to the garbage bin.

  “Ranulf has a history of going off on his own,” he explained as he set down the first aid kit on the counter. I kept my back to Zahur and wrapped a towel around my chest. “Okay, I’m covered.”

  “Counter. Now,” he ordered. I hopped up on the counter under the lights.

  “You were saying before?” I asked. He began to really look at the wound on my shoulder. The demon’s blood had covered my shoulder from front to back and ran down my arm. The skin was gone, the muscle beneath was red, pitted and overall, rather disgusting to look at.

  “It wasn’t really about Ranulf. It was
about you,” Zahur said absently as he began rinsing my shoulder with cold water. It felt amazing.

  “What?”

  “That’s why Atticus was so angry.” He pulled out a jar of green goop from the kit and opened it. “What do you know about how our females pick a husband?” He added some herbs from a small bag with a label to the mix of green and stirred it.

  Stunned by the change in topic, I answered. “Um, you meet, you fall in love, then you get married,” I said as if it were obvious. His eyes ran over my face before going back to the jar in his hands.

  “That’s how humans do it. Not gargoyles.” His voice changed, it became clinical. “We have something different. It’s called The Matching.” He stopped stirring the goo in the jar to meet my gaze. “A female meets a male, they touch, usually shaking hands. Then a surge of hormones is felt by both of them.” My pulse picked up as he continued. “That’s called The Matching. It tells you who your Mate is and starts a process.”

  “Mate?” I asked quietly, my handshake with Atticus running through my mind.

  “The human term is husband, or wife,” he explained. “Our species is different than most. We usually only get one Mate in our long lifetime. And Atticus is yours.”

  My heart lodged in my throat and my nerves jumped. “Wait. So, Atticus is the destined love of my life?” I asked, hoping he’d say no.

  “It doesn’t work that way,” he began. “Our species numbers have always been on the low side. The Matching tells us who we can have children with. It does make you more sensitive to each other, more aware. But that’s it. The rest is up to the both of you.” He began stirring the goo again. “They do almost always form a deep emotional connection.”

  “Wait,” I said, stunned. “So, we live for hundreds, if not thousands, of years and we only get one Match? One person we can have children with?”

  He nodded. “It is rare, but occasionally a female will have two. But in our history, I know of only two females who have had that occur and it was when she met both close to each other.”

  I sat there trying to absorb what he was telling me. “Atticus doesn’t-”

  “Care for you?” he snapped. His eyes narrowed on me. “How would you know?” I closed my mouth. He continued. “You don’t know what it means for a gargoyle to find their Match.” His gaze was shadowed as he continued. “You’re his hope, Evelyn. Even if he doesn’t know it yet.”

  “Pardon?” I asked, because I couldn’t have heard him correctly. Me? Atticus’s hope? I started to shake my head. His fingers on my chin stopped me.

  “Our people live in a world of war for centuries,” he explained calmly as his fingers dropped from my chin. “It goes on and on. Our duty never ends, and as centuries go by we watch our friends die, they turn into people we don’t recognize anymore, caring for others becomes too much of a risk. We become alone in a dark world.” His eyes were shadowed when they met mine. “Then a gargoyle meets their Match and everything changes. We feel emotions we haven’t felt in centuries simply because our Match is with us. Because for once in our lives we have a chance to not be alone anymore. A chance to have a family, happiness. A chance at a life full of more than battle and death.” He went back to stirring the goo in the jar. “That’s why Atticus was so furious with Ranulf tonight. Because Ranulf knows what you mean to Atticus, and he still didn’t tell us you were going after the Hunger demon.” He looked back down at my shoulder and started applying the green goo to the wound.

  Guilt hit me hard. If what he was saying were true, and he had no reason to lie to me, Atticus cared about me, more than I ever thought he could in two days. But… “He doesn’t seem to even like me,” I pointed out.

  He sighed. “Atticus is young. He hasn’t quite dealt with some of his own issues yet. Nor has he spent a thousand years alone, which is normally when we meet our Mate,” he explained. “And Atticus is stubborn. With him, you’ll have to watch his actions, they’ll show more about him than what he says.”

  The goo cooled and soothed the damaged tissue better than anything I could imagine. It let me start thinking again.

  “Why didn’t he tell me?” I asked quietly, when he finished bandaging my shoulder.

  He washed his hands and began cleaning up the med kit. “You should ask him when he gets back. He’s going to want to talk to you about running off.”

  A thought occurred to me as he zipped up the large kit. “Do Matches always get together?”

  He paused, then met my eyes. “No. Sometimes personalities clash and they decide not to complete the binding.”

  “What happens to them? Do they get Matched again?” I asked.

  “If they live long enough, maybe. So far in our history it hasn’t happened,” he answered quietly. He picked up the kit and headed out of the bathroom. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” He closed the door behind him.

  In a daze, I went into my bedroom and changed out of my blood-spattered jeans and into a pair of black leggings and a burgundy sweater. When I was dressed I sat on my bed, Zahur’s words running through my head. Why didn’t Atticus tell me himself? He was my Match. Was I going to marry him? How was I even going to bring up the subject? Why didn’t Mum ever mention it? Frustrated, I laid down and snuggled with my pillow as it sank in what Atticus being my Match meant to my life. If I was ever going to have a family, it would be with Atticus. I took a deep breath and wished I could speak to my mum.

  Atticus

  I strode into Evelyn’s apartment. Only Zahur was in the living room, reorganizing the med kit. Her bedroom door was closed.

  “She’s in her room,” Zahur announced, putting away the contents of the large first aid kit.

  I walked further into the apartment. “Her shoulder?”

  “Fine. Probably won’t even scar,” he stated as he straightened and slung the bag over his shoulder. He started for the door. When he reached me he stopped, his entire body rigid. “I told her.”

  My head snapped around and I growled, “Why?”

  His jaw clenched and unclenched. “Because you need her.” He left it at that as he strode out the door. The apartment was silent.

  He told her. I bit back a curse. If he had just kept his mouth shut I could have taken her back home and left it at that. But now… now she’s going to want to try and make it work. I ran my hand over my face. And I had to keep her from trying. Shit.

  I went to her door and knocked. “Evelyn?”

  “Come in,” she called.

  I opened the door as she sat up on her bed, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. It was such a feminine gesture that it caught my attention. Changed the way I was thinking. I looked around her room to give myself a moment to recover. Her walls were a light lilac color. Her dresser was on the other side of the room, old white wood with chips here and there. It matched her nightstands and headboard. A closet was on one side of another door across from her bed. I turned back to her. She was sitting up against a mound of pillows in different colors; pink, purple, white. The quilt under her was a pale green. Her burgundy sweater was too big for her, sliding down her bandaged shoulder. Finally, I looked at her again. She wrapped her arms around her knees.

  “Have a seat.” She gestured to her bed. I unbuttoned my suit jacket and sat near the end of the bed, a safe distance from her.

  “Are you alright?” I asked, trying for neutral when I felt anything but. The urge to touch her, examine every inch of her so I would know that she wasn’t injured was nearly overwhelming.

  She sighed. “Yeah, I just miss my mom. I could use her advice right now.”

  “About?”

  “You,” she said quietly before meeting my eyes. “Zahur told me about The Matching, and what Mates are. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because you didn’t need to know,” I replied, keeping my voice empty.

  Her eyebrows went up. “I didn’t need to know?” she asked, her voice dry. “I meet the one person I can have a family with, and you don’t think I need to kn
ow?”

  “I didn’t believe it was dire information with a demon on the loose. I was going to tell you when we headed home,” I lied. I needed her off this topic.

  “And if I didn’t go with you?” she asked, her voice sharp.

  “Then that would have been your choice,” I hedged.

  “You would have left me in the dark?” she demanded, her voice rising.

  “You wouldn’t have known-”

  “Do you think that matters?” she shot back. She shook her head, her cognac eyes glowing. “It was obvious to you that I had no idea what was going on, and you decided not to tell me even though it would affect the rest of my life. You don’t get to make that decision for me.”

  “The Matching is nothing more than nature making you vulnerable to a stranger and making you feel things you don’t want to. And it doesn’t matter. Right now, what matters is what happened this afternoon,” I stated. “You and Ranulf went after the demon alone and you got hurt because of that choice.”

  “I got hurt because it jerked in a different direction before it died,” she countered.

  “You both could have been killed. It was reckless and impulsive,” I told her.

  “You were stuck in that meeting that didn’t seem like it would end before sundown.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “I didn’t want to have to look into another chest cavity because of it. I needed to do something proactive.”

  The shadows in her eyes bothered me. Her eyes should never be shadowed. Damn it, I needed to stop thinking like that. “Evelyn, if I’m in a meeting and you want to tell me something, all you have to do is touch my shoulder to let me know you need to speak to me,” I explained, my voice hard. “But going off like that, disappearing, is unacceptable. Do you understand?”

  Her eyes flashed at me as she continued to meet my gaze. “I understand I scared you. But I’m not a child to have to ask permission to do something, nor do I need you making decisions for me.”

  There it was, the ammunition I needed. I looked away from her to the lamp on the nightstand. “Don’t act like a child and I won’t treat you like one,” I said, my voice as cold as I could make it. My gut knotted, hating what I was doing, but it was necessary.