Found (Books of Stone Book 1)

by B. L. Brunnemer

She sat back on the desk and held up her glass. “To one hell of a bookstore.” I tapped my glass to hers before drinking down the rest of my scotch. It was official. If I couldn’t get Gumner to take payments, I would have to sell. Everything.

  I climbed the stairs of the apartment building, my mind on the store. I had just stepped onto my floor as Atticus stepped off the stairs to the roof. His eyes ran over me before meeting mine.

  “Did you get your business done?” he asked stiffly as he buttoned his suit jacket. I eyed him, then the stairs to the roof.

  “I thought you were leaving,” I said as I went to my door. It was locked. I pulled my keys out of my pocket and focused on unlocking it. "Did you follow me?" I asked, not quite believing it. He said he was leaving… I focused on unlocking my door.

  "You're supposed to have one of us with you,” he reminded me.

  "I haven't really had someone with me most of the time,” I pointed out as I walked into my apartment.

  "Believe me, I'm aware,” he growled. Biting back a grin, I moved into the kitchen and turned on the burner under the kettle. I went to grab my mug, only to find it in the dish drainer. Did he… did he wash the mugs? I picked up the one I used. He did. Not knowing how I felt about it, I set it on the counter.

  "Would you like some tea?" I asked over my shoulder.

  "Yes, please,” he said, his voice polite. I pulled the other mug out of the drainer.

  When I turned around I paused. Atticus's elbow was on the counter, his eyes were closed as he rubbed his temples. He seemed tired. I crossed my arms over my stomach. "Do you have a headache?"

  He sighed. "Yes." He dropped his arm to the counter.

  I hesitated only a moment. "Would you like me to fix it or an aspirin?"

  His eyes met mine. "You can fix it?"

  I nodded.

  His eyes ran over my face before he nodded. "I'd appreciate it if you could fix it."

  I gave him a small smile as I stepped closer to the counter. "Lean forward so I can reach you, please." He rested his elbows on the table and leaned closer. Parchment filled my lungs, I swallowed hard before reaching over the counter. Carefully, I rested my fingers on his temple. I closed my eyes and poured energy into his body, soaking into his nerves and veins. It took a few heartbeats but I found the problem. I cracked my barrier a little.

  "Knots in your neck are restricting blood flow. Give me a second,” I sent, then closed my barriers quickly so I wouldn't go too far into his mind. I focused the energy over those knots, heating the muscles until they loosened and let go. Once the blood was flowing again I pulled my mind back and opened my eyes. Gold eyes met mine. I dropped my fingers from his temple as the kettle started whistling. Ignoring the way he was looking at me, I turned and made tea.

  "So, you can heal,” he stated.

  I turned and set his mug in front of him. "Yes."

  "You're very good. Did your mother teach you that?" he asked.

  I focused on dunking the teabag. "The control, yes. The rest I had to figure out since she didn't have the ability."

  There was a long silence. "That's rather incredible."

  I glanced up at him wondering if he was being sarcastic. He seemed sincere.

  "Thank you." My tea was ready. I added sugar, milk and stirred it.

  "It's rare to find someone who is that precise while healing,” he said. "If you came with us, you'd probably end up teaching healing."

  I sighed. "That's not exactly what I like to do." I took a sip of tea and looked at him. "What do you do back when you aren't out in the world?"

  He added sugar to his tea then stirred it. "I'm the Historian for the Council."

  I raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

  He nodded. "I handle the historical library, artifacts, documents." He paused for a few heartbeats. "You would be an amazing asset to us."

  I sighed and met his eyes. "Atticus, I'm not leaving with you. I can't."

  "What is so important that you stay?" he demanded, clearly frustrated.

  "Why is it so important that I go?" I countered. "Why is it so urgent that I go with you?” Silence stretched as he didn't answer.

  "You're my Match,” he stated. "Your safety is my responsibility."

  It felt like a hit to the heart. “Responsibility, right…,” I muttered looking down at my tea. "Well, I release you from that responsibility."

  "It doesn't work that way,” he said, his voice tired. I lifted my head to meet his gaze.

  "If you don't want to be here, then I don't want you here,” I told him. "I deserve someone who is going love me for me. And I'm never going to settle for less than that. So, if that's not you... then leave." My chest ached. I picked up my tea and took it into my bedroom. I sat on the side of my bed and took a deep breath. Why was that so hard to say? I already knew the answer. They'd be gone by morning. And life would go back to normal. My eyes burned. Why did it hurt so much?

  9

  December 18

  Evelyn

  I was hurrying down the house stairs, I couldn’t wait long enough to change out of my dressing gown and into a proper dress and stockings. Dad said there would be a special present under the tree this year. I was hoping it was the dress we saw in a shop window a fortnight ago.

  “Mum? Dad?” I called, smiling as I reached the landing. No answer. I hurried to the closed parlour doors and pulled them open-

  I jerked awake, gasping, sweat running down my body as I looked around my bedroom. The sound of traffic outside reminded me of the year. I wiped my sweat soaked hair off my face as I tried to get my breathing under control. Christmas was getting close. The nightmares would continue to get worse as it got closer. I pushed them to the back of my mind as I climbed out of bed.

  I did my normal routine and got dressed. Blue jeans and a purple oversized sweater that liked to slide down my shoulder, boots and my hair up in a messy bun. Then I headed into the living room and froze.

  Atticus was still here, at my bookcases, browsing my collection. It took me several heartbeats to process. What did this mean? Why was he still here? Did this mean he cared? Or was he just being stubborn?

  Not knowing what to say, I left him alone as I went to the kitchen and began cooking breakfast. I pulled out my large skillet and put it on the burner. When I looked in my fridge I smiled; there was a large slab of bacon that hadn’t been there before. Falk. It had to be. He had said he loved bacon yesterday. Shaking my head, I pulled it out and turned on the oven. I was setting the bacon out onto a cookie sheet when Atticus turned around and watched me.

  I ignored him as I finished then put the remaining bacon back in the fridge. I didn’t want to fight and I sure didn’t want to be hurt this morning. I turned back and took a deep breath. Atticus was putting the bacon in the oven and setting the timer. Surprised, I didn’t know what to say, so I stayed quiet and texted the others that breakfast would be ready soon. It didn't occur to me that they might not be here until after I pulled out the eggs and a large mixing bowl. Deciding not to ask, I set them on the breakfast bar on the kitchen side then began cracking eggs and leaving the shells in the carton. He pulled down a loaf of bread and began making toast. I finished cracking eggs and began whipping them.

  “Have you ever added milk? I've found it makes them smoother,” he offered quietly with his back to me.

  “I normally do. I ran out,” I replied just as quietly. He went back to making toast. When the eggs were ready and the pan was hot enough, I poured the eggs into the pan.

  “Do you like cooking?” he asked. Since I was at the stove and he was at the toaster we were almost standing next to each other.

  “Yes, actually.” He said nothing. He probably expected his Match to be a gourmet chef. Well, I’m not a chef, but I’m not horrible. He’s probably disappointed in me again. My stomach knotted at the thought. I stayed quiet as I kept cooking. I didn’t want to fight this morning.

  Atticus

  Standing next to Evelyn while making breakfast was… nice. W
e weren’t yelling at each other. We weren’t arguing. We were just making breakfast. I decided to keep quiet since whenever we spoke lately we fought. I just wanted a few minutes where we didn’t fight. I might not be taking the position of Mate, but I wanted just a few minutes of quiet with her to last the rest of my life. Please. I stepped around her and started the coffee pot. I made a large one, assuming the others would be up soon. I walked back around her, her cherry blossom scent filling my lungs and making me want to touch her. I focused on making toast.

  “Would you like some coffee?” I asked. She looked up at me with those cognac eyes, surprised. Those eyes did something to me every time.

  “Um, yes please,” she murmured before going back to the eggs. I pulled out a couple mugs then poured coffee. I added the cream and sugar to hers before stirring it and handing it to her. She took it and went still. She was staring at her mug.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked carefully. She blinked then looked up at me, her face confused.

  “You remembered how I like my coffee,” she said, stunned. I went back to pouring my own.

  “I have an excellent memory,” I hedged as I put the carafe back. She didn’t need to know I took note of everything she liked or didn’t like. When I turned back she was looking down at the eggs, her lips pressed together.

  “Of course you do,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. It was another minute before I realized I had pushed her away again. I leaned against the breakfast bar and reminded myself it was for the best. Though, the more time I spent with her, the more I questioned if Cyrus was right. Was this the right thing for her?

  The timer went off for the bacon. She picked up a pot holder, opened the oven and pulled out the baking sheet. As she straightened she made a pained noise and set the pan down. She pulled her hand off the pan, hissing. I was there before she finished hissing. I took her hand and immediately pulled her to the sink. I started the water, stuck her hand under it and held it there. I didn’t realize what I had done until she let out a long breath.

  “Bacon grease?” I asked, suddenly tense. Her skin was soft under my fingertips.

  “Yeah, when I pulled out the pan it came over the edge,” she said quietly. Her gaze was like a touch on my skin. I kept my face blank. “Why did you react that way?” she asked quietly. Surprised by the question I looked down and met her eyes. “Why would you care if I got hurt? You don’t even like me,” she asked, her face puzzled.

  “I dislike seeing females in pain,” I admitted before I could think about it. I turned back to examining the burn on her hand. The red was fading from her skin.

  I realized what I was doing. I let go of her, turned away, grabbed my coffee and moved to the other side of the breakfast counter, feeling her eyes on me the whole time. I ignored it. She shut off the water then took the eggs off the burner. She pulled out paper towels and a large platter. She had just begun to put the bacon on the paper towels to drain the fat when the apartment door opened. Ranulf strode in. He stepped behind Evelyn and looked down over her head.

  “Bacon?” Ranulf asked.

  She shook her head. “No, it’s cows tongue.” She elbowed his stomach. He chuckled as he moved to the coffee maker. Jealousy ate at me. The fact they spoke so easily was irritating.

  Evelyn kept putting bacon on paper towels. The front door opened again. Falk walked in wearing his usual all black. His eyes went to Evelyn and stayed there, or more accurately, on her hands. He strode over and leaned against the counter with his back to me. She looked up to greet him.

  “Morning,” she said. “I found bacon in my fridge. Was that you?” Falk nodded. Her eyes narrowed on him. She wiped off her hands on a towel before reaching up and wrapping her hands around Falk’s throat. Her markings glowed in her skin as she closed her eyes and pulled energy to her. It was only a couple minutes before she opened her eyes and smiled. Falk patted her arm. I resisted the urge to knock his hand off her.

  “Thank you,” Falk said in his rough voice.

  The corner of her lips twitched as she looked back down at the bacon pan and went back to setting the bacon to drain. “No problem. We’ll do a real session later today.”

  Ranulf moved away from the coffee maker and came around the breakfast bar to take the stool beside me.

  “So, how was crashing on the couch?” Ranulf asked. I ignored him and watched Falk get his coffee. He hadn’t asked her to help with his throat. She did have telepathy; did she talk with Falk that way?

  “Fine,” I finally answered when Falk finished pouring his coffee. The door opened again.

  “I hear there is breakfast?” Zahur asked as he zombie walked into the apartment, wearing only a pair of sweats and a white undershirt. She nodded.

  “And coffee, all ready to go,” she announced.

  “Oh, you’re a goddess,” Zahur muttered as he went to the coffee maker and pulled down a mug.

  “I won’t debate that,” she said with a small grin. The others chuckled. She covered the last layer of bacon with a paper towel. “Okay, dish up, the bacon is still draining.”

  The kitchen became chaotic as everyone dished up and ate breakfast. Zahur eventually woke up and joined the conversation Ranulf and Evelyn were having. Occasionally Falk would jump in with something to say. How did they talk so easily with her? The question bothered me all through breakfast.

  After breakfast everyone helped with the cleanup and thanked her for cooking.

  She shrugged. “No problem, but one of you are taking a turn tomorrow.”

  “Aye, I’ll take care of it,” Ranulf volunteered. Zahur caught her eye and shook his head. She smiled, her eyes lit with laughter. I couldn’t sit and watch this anymore.

  “It’s time for a sweep,” I announced. The room grew silent as all eyes moved to me. “Load up.” The others pushed away from the counters or stood straight. Both Ranulf and Falk looked at her with concern before they went to load up. It bothered me. She was my Match, not theirs.

  Then it was just the two of us in the apartment again. “Would you like to join us for the sweep?” I asked carefully. She eyed me.

  “Um, thank you, but I have to work,” she said in a neutral voice. I bit back my disappointment. She really had no interest in becoming part of the team.

  “At the bookstore?” I asked calmly. Her eyes sparked.

  “Yes,” she said, her voice still neutral. Her eyes were sad before she turned and filled her coffee mug again. What was that?

  “Evelyn, I think your work at the bookstore is distracting you from your duty,” I informed her. As she put the carafe back, her sweater slipped down, showing the skin of her shoulder and the crest of a wing marking. She turned back to me with a strained smile.

  “I have to work, Atticus,” she began, her voice tired. “It pays for my apartment, food. You know, living expenses.” I reminded myself to be patient.

  “Gargoyles have unlimited access to funds,” I explained. “All we have to do is bring you home and have you register. Then you can come back and you’ll be able afford anything.” She was stirring the cream and sugar in her coffee, her mouth a tight line.

  “I’m not sure that's a good idea,” she said softly. She looked up and met my gaze. It still impressed me that she could; most turned away from my eyes. “And I like working, I like making my own way.”

  “There's no reason you have to stay.” I tried again to get her to understand. Her eyes narrowed on me.

  “You and the other gargoyles have pulled back,” she stated, her voice firm. “You left the humans to the predators of this world. You abandoned them. I’d say that’s a good enough reason to stay.” She pressed her lips together and looked away from me.

  “It wasn’t an easy decision for the Council,” I replied, my own temper rising.

  “How would you know?” she asked directly. “Were you in the room when they made the decision?”

  “Yes, my position as Historian comes with a seat on the Elder Council,” I announced. She eyed me and si
ghed.

  “That explains a lot,” she said to herself. She tucked a loose hair behind her ear and shook her head. “I don’t know what you want from me, Atticus.”

  “I would like you to go on this sweep with us,” I told her. “I want you to start learning how we do things. Become part of our team.”

  “Why? So, I might go back with you?” she asked, her eyes flashing. That had been the idea.

  “We’re doing the sweep,” I told her, my voice cold. “Are you coming or not?” She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

  “Hate to break it to you, but this sweep is a waste of time,” she announced with a small smile. “It’s covered already.”

  I bit back a curse. I know for a fact she never left the apartment since going to her room last night. The door opened, Ranulf leaned in.

  “We’re ready to head out,” Ranulf announced. I turned away from her and headed for the door. When I reached it her voice made me pause.

  “Please, don’t kill anyone or anything without calling me first. There are things you don’t know about this city. There’s a balance. Please, don’t mess with it,” she warned. I bit back my reply and walked out the door, fuming.

  Two hours later…

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. During the sweep we had found traces of a nest of Red Caps in the Orange subway line. A nest of goblins directly under Evelyn’s nose. It worried me that the nest was within fifteen city blocks of her apartment. I didn't care if it was a hundred, I wanted them out of the city. As far from her as possible. It was the entire point of the sweep. Clear out as many pests and risks as possible before we were called back. Cyrus won't keep us out in the field for long. I only had a couple weeks at most to convince her and it didn't look like she was going to leave with us. Cyrus was going to be furious, but I refused to put her in chains and drag her back.

  She was right, she deserved someone who would love her for who she was. All I could do now was clear out as many dangers as possible and ask her to call if she ever needed help. It ate at me that this was the most I could do.