by Faith Gibson
“Not at all. I wondered how you were going to get your surfboard to the beach.”
“The Veyron’s fun, but not conducive to a surfer’s life.”
“Let’s hope things stay calm enough that you can enjoy the lifestyle you’re looking for.”
“You and me both, Brother. I want to focus on getting Rae back without having to look over my shoulder, waiting for someone to come snatch her up.” Sixx had four more days until he hopefully became part of her life. If she wouldn’t let him back in, he would watch over her from close by until he convinced her they belonged together. If that day never came, he’d still protect her.
Somehow, Alistair had figured out who some of the mates were already. If someone was watching Sixx closely, it wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Rae meant something to him. And the fact Desi looked like his brother would make him an even easier target. He needed to at least get Rae to see the danger she and their son were in. He wanted to meet his son and check out his security detail. If he had to, Sixx would go on tour with the band and stand guard. The thought appealed to Sixx considering how much he loved rock music. He could convince Rae to go with them and make it a family thing. Family. It was something Sixx hadn’t known in hundreds of years.
Instead of dropping him off, Uri walked around the sales lot with Sixx. Uri was drawn to a black four-door hard top with a four-inch lift kit. Sixx liked it as well, but Rae had always liked white vehicles for some reason. Luck was on his side that day. There was a white model that included the same bells and whistles as the black one. After negotiating price for a few minutes, Sixx entered the sales office to sign the paperwork.
Since he was paying cash, the process didn’t take hours like it did for someone trying to get financing. The salesman handed him the keys before the ink was dry, and Sixx was on his way with his new toy. He couldn’t wait to get home and take the top off.
Urijah had plans to meet back up with Finley, so Sixx decided to break in his new ride with a trip up to New Lomita. He stopped at home, removed the hard top, and stowed it in the garage. He took a shower and changed out of sparring clothes. Sixx tugged a baseball cap on backwards and slid his aviators in place. The Jeep had a satellite radio system, so he programmed his favorite stations in. With the music blaring, he headed out.
When he arrived on the street where Rae lived, Sixx cruised slowly so he could take in the houses around her. Most were small cottages like the one she lived in. He didn’t see any that appeared to house thugs or drug dealers. No one hanging out in the driveways. No cars slowing to make drug deals. The only out of place vehicle was his. He needed to be careful and not call attention to himself, but he had to be sure his mate was in a safe location.
He circled around to the next few streets in her neighborhood, especially the one that ran parallel behind her home. Again, nothing out of the ordinary. He made his way slowly in front of Rae’s house, not daring to stop in case she was to come outside. He didn’t want to chance her seeing him too soon. Then again, he was sending her flowers that would probably indicate he was back. At least that he was thinking about her. Unless she received flowers from other suitors, that was. Sixx didn’t want to think about Rae with another male, but the possibility was there. He’d left her alone for twenty-four years, so the likelihood of her remaining celibate in all those years was slim to none.
When he was satisfied the area was safe enough, Sixx headed north. He stopped at a surf shop to purchase surf wax. The longboard wouldn’t fit in the back of the Jeep without sticking out too far, so he also picked up a strapping system that would allow him to mount the board to the top of the Jeep.
Sixx decided to stop at one of the seafood restaurants on his way home. As soon as he stepped in the door of the establishment, he realized it was a bad idea. Cameras began flashing, and people began pointing. The name Desmond found his ears, and he knew then it was a case of mistaken identity. Fuck. He should have left the cap and sunglasses on. They all thought he was his son. Could they not see he had no ink covering his arms? His son had full sleeves, something Sixx was extremely jealous of. Were Gargoyles able to take ink, he would also be covered in the bright, colorful artwork. Instead of staying and pretending he was his son, he opted to leave the restaurant and cook something when he got home.
Was this going to be his plight if he decided to remain in Cali? Would he be mistaken for his son everywhere he went? It probably didn’t help that he had removed his sunglasses and his ball cap. Then again, if he hadn’t, would they have noticed the resemblance? It was possible he looked old enough to be Desi’s father, but he wanted to wait and see Rae’s reaction to his appearance before he stepped back out in public. That really sucked, because he loved going to a nice restaurant and relaxing. Not that he minded cooking, it was just he’d done it for so long. It was nice to have someone else cater to you every once in a while.
By the time he rolled up in his driveway, Sixx was not in the mood to cook. He grabbed several beers out of the fridge and put them on ice in a bucket. He found a box of flavored crackers in the pantry and took both to the patio. As soon as Sixx had stepped foot in the surf shop earlier, the memories bombarded his senses. He knew he wouldn’t be able to wait weeks to get his board out into the water. Hell, he couldn’t wait days. He went to the storage room and pulled his board down from its slot on the wall. He was going to break open the surf wax and give his old board a new coat. Just in case.
Before he got busy, Sixx plugged in his mp3 player and set it to shuffle through his chilling playlist. Sixx was in the mood to relax with several longnecks and his longboard.
Chapter Six
Sergei had never met the man Kallisto referred to as Achilles. No, not man – Gargoyle. The mysterious male Alistair used for all his computer hacking needs was, in Sergei’s opinion, a genius. He could crack any computer system, hack into any files in the world, obtain any and all information Alistair asked him to retrieve. And he did it quickly. Sergei had gotten used to being around the shifters soon after he met Kallisto. She confided in him about her family, and since he was head over heels in love with her, he vowed to keep their secret. Almost twenty years later, he was still doing her bidding and still pining away for a love she would never return. If he didn’t get her released from the New Atlanta penitentiary, he wouldn’t be alive to worry about it.
Instead of going to the prison, Sergei, Drago, and Crane were on their way to the building where Rafael Stone, King of the Stone Society, kept an office. No reason to start anywhere other than the top. Drago and Crane remained by the glass doors while Sergei talked to the pretty young lady manning the desk.
“Good morning. I’m here to see Mr. Stone.” Sergei was dressed in a sleek business suit, his dark hair combed neatly away from his face. He wanted to make a good impression when he met the King of the Americans.
“I’m afraid that won’t be a possibility,” she responded. “You do not have an appointment, and he isn’t taking visitors today.”
Sergei didn’t know if the girl was aware of Gargoyles or not. He didn’t want to spill the beans and have Rafael toss his ass in the slammer next to Kallisto. Though that might not be so bad. At least he would be near her. “It’s urgent that I speak with him. Can you please tell him I have a message from his uncle?”
Before the girl, Willow according to her nameplate, could answer, a young man appeared from down the hall. Sergei didn’t have to ask if he was a Goyle or not. The way the male carried himself was proof enough. He approached the receptionist’s desk and placed himself behind her. Standing guard over the girl, he said, “As Willow told you, Rafael isn’t taking visitors at the moment. You can make an appointment to see him next week.”
“Next week? Oh, no. That won’t do. I have to talk to him before then. Tell him Alistair said...”
The young male cut him off. “Come with me.”
Willow looked up at the male and raised her eyebrows. He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “It�
��s okay. We’ll go to the conference room, but this shouldn’t take long.”
Willow nodded soundlessly, and Sergei followed the Goyle down the hall.
“What do you want?” the male asked as soon as the door was closed.
“Alistair has sent a letter for Rafael requesting he release Kallisto.” If the male was part of the Clan, he should know all about what had gone down in recent weeks.
“Give me the letter.” The Goyle held out his hand, but Sergei hesitated. The letter was for Rafael, but he really wanted the chance to see Kallisto. Get her released and on her way back to Greece. He pulled the envelope from inside his suit coat and handed it over. The male turned it over to see it had Alistair’s official wax seal on the back. “Sit down, and do not move.” The young male strode out of the room, leaving Sergei to wonder if he was doing the right thing. Achilles’ intel didn’t indicate Rafael wouldn’t be at his office. Almost thirty minutes passed before the male returned.
“Rafael has agreed for you to visit with Kallisto at the Pen. However, he will not release her into your care. I have scheduled an appointment for you to come back here one week from tomorrow at ten a.m. Until that time, you may make one visit to the prison to ensure Kallisto is being treated fairly. That would be today. I have spoken with the warden, and he is expecting you within the hour.”
Sergei wanted to argue, but he knew he wouldn’t win. He would just have to do as they allowed and pray Alistair left him alone. “Very well. May I have the letter back?”
“No, you may not. I have a message for you from Rafael. If you try anything foolish while you are in New Atlanta, you’ll meet the same fate as Theron.”
Sergei winced. The nightmares hadn’t ceased at all since taking Theron’s body back to Greece. His body with the detached head. No, he didn’t want to meet the same fate. Swallowing hard, he nodded. “I understand.” The male opened the door and held it for Sergei, dismissing him without words. He made his way to the lobby, where Willow was typing away on her computer. When he passed her desk, he tipped an imaginary hat and bade her a good day.
Sergei waited until he and the two Gargoyles were in the elevator before filling them in on what had transpired. Even though he wasn’t getting Kallisto released, Sergei was on his way to see her.
With Rafael out of town, it was Mason’s duty to watch over Willow. The fact she was his mate had absolutely nothing to do with it. Right. It had everything to do with it. He and Rafe had spoken on more than one occasion about telling Willow the truth of the Gargoyles. Rafael was ready to trust his assistant with the knowledge. Mason, however, was not. He wanted to get used to being around the pretty girl before they sprung the news on her. Hey, Willow. I’m a primordial being. I’ll pretty much live forever unless someone takes my head. Oh, and by the way, you’re my mate. You are stuck with me for the rest of your life.
Mason was still trying to keep his beast at bay when it came to his mate. He’d never dated a girl much less had sex with one. And from what he’d heard, the first time a Gargoyle was physical with their mate, the shifter took over. Kaya had suggested he find someone else to have sex with just so he would have an idea of what he was doing when he and Willow were finally together. The thought made him sick. He didn’t want anyone other than the beautiful girl sitting two feet away from him.
It was pure torture to stay in the same room with her, but it was something he had to get used to. Besides, he wanted to get to know her before Rafael told her the story of the Gargoyles. Mason wanted to do this the right way. Woo her. Wine her and dine her. Take her to her favorite places. Show her that he was more than a kid who had no clue what he was doing. He seriously didn’t want her to find out he was so young either. He may look to be her age, but he was still a teenager. Even though by Gargoyle standards he was already mature and considered an adult, by human standards he was underage and shouldn’t be thinking of being with someone her age.
He didn’t know if she found him attractive. He’d caught her staring on more than one occasion, but he was inexperienced in the ways of females. He was relying on Rafael to help him through this just like he’d helped him through everything else. Mason had been with Rafe for several years now. Ever since he transitioned.
His parents were older Goyles when they had him. As soon as he was old enough, his mother had pawned him off on the King so she could live out the rest of her life peacefully. Male Gargoyles lived longer than females. Once the females of their kind felt like they had contributed to the species enough, they tended to fade away willingly. It was one thing Mason didn’t understand. If you loved your mate, how could you just give up? Then again, his mother was quite old. Maybe when he’d lived almost a thousand years, he’d be ready to pass on, too.
If Willow thought it odd for Mason to sit and watch her work without speaking much, she didn’t let on. As he spent more time in her presence, she talked to him more each day. He was finding it easier to open up to her, ask her questions so he would know more about what she liked. What she wanted out of life. Where she liked to go, what she liked to do. He wanted to know every single detail about his mate so he could make her happy in every way. He figured the sex would come naturally, once they got around to it. But he would not approach the subject until she knew what he was. What they all were.
“Are you going to tell me what that was about?” Willow asked once Sergei had left with the male Gargoyles who kept watch outside the doors.
He had hoped she would let slide the way he took over when Alistair’s lackey had come in. He should have known better. “He wanted a sit down with Rafe, but I thought it best he didn’t know Rafael is out of town.”
“And why is that?” she inquired as she turned her body towards his. He averted his eyes so he wasn’t staring at the way her long, slender legs crossed at the ankle. Or the way her skirt slid up her thighs, showing too much skin. Or the way her sweater clung to her perky breasts. Fuck! He needed to excuse himself to the apartment down the hall and jack off before he embarrassed himself.
He cleared his throat and stared at a point on the wall over her shoulder when speaking to her. “I don’t want him getting ideas where you’re concerned. He is a bad man, Willow. I don’t want him to think you’re here every day unprotected.”
“But I’m not unprotected. You don’t leave me alone for five minutes most days.”
“I’m sorry if I make you uncomfortable, but I have my orders.”
“Your orders? You sound as if Rafael is some type of mob boss instead of an architect.”
Shit! He had to watch his words around her. She was way too astute for her own good. “You are important to Rafael.” To me. “He would kick my ass if something were to happen to you in his absence. Besides, I like watching over you. You’re fun.” And beautiful. And smart. And you smell fucking delicious.
Willow smiled her beautiful smile. The one that did crazy things to Mason’s insides. Yep, he needed to be alone for a few minutes.
“He’s not going to kick your ass. You’re his cousin or something. Aren’t you?” Willow grabbed a strand of her long auburn hair and twirled it between her fingers. Mason was mesmerized by the action. He wanted to know if it was as soft as it looked. He’d never touched another person’s hair that he could remember. Never wanted to. Until now. “Aren’t you?” she asked again.
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I can let something happen to his favorite assistant without suffering the consequences.” He didn’t want to think about anything happening to Willow. Too many mates had already been targets of either Alistair or Gordon Flanagan. He couldn’t alert her to the possibility of the danger she was in without giving away the Clan’s secrets.
“Do you not get bored babysitting me every day? Don’t get me wrong; I don’t mind. It’s just that you have to want to be somewhere else.” Willow pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, waiting for his answer. His eyes were drawn to her mouth. He wanted to remove her lip from between her teeth. With his tongue. Mason had probably t
hought of kissing Willow more than he’d imagined having sex with her. Somehow, kissing seemed more intimate. When she released her lip, she smoothed it over with her tongue, sliding it over her lip gloss. Was it flavored? Did her lips taste like oranges, or peaches maybe? Or did they taste minty like her breath? At that moment, Mason did something really stupid. He inhaled deeply, trying to figure out whether or not her lip gloss was flavored. What he got was a heady dose of everything Willow. Not only did he catch the scent of tangerines, he was slammed with a scent that was female.
Fucking hell. She wanted him. He didn’t know how he knew, but he knew. While it was good to know that his mate didn’t find him appalling, his shifter decided he wanted a taste of her lips. Possibly not the ones on her face either. Mason wasn’t experienced in the ways between a male and female, but it seemed his beast had no trouble figuring that shit out. Mason could either flee the room like the novice teenager he was, or he could make a move like the mature Gargoyle he was.
Remembering she had asked him a question, Mason stood from leaning against her desk and squatted down in front of her. Willow sucked in a breath when Mason placed his hands on her knees. He didn’t push. He didn’t rub. He was barely containing the need to rip her clothes off and fuck her right there. The softness of her skin alone was enough to have him ready to hyperventilate. Willow allowed her legs to part, giving him room to slide between them. He hesitated only a few seconds before closing the distance. Mason let his hands skim along her skin farther up her thighs, stopping short of touching something he’d only seen on the internet.
Willow placed her hands on either side of his face and leaned forward. Mason closed his eyes, waiting to feel her soft lips on his. The smell of mint mixed with fruit hit his nose a half-second before her mouth was touching his. He squeezed her thighs to keep his hands from moving to her core. His shifter was begging him to rip her panties off and bury his face in her slick heat, but Mason knew he would somehow fuck that up. He concentrated on the feel of their mouths mating for the first time. Mason knew as long as he lived, he would never forget this moment. He also knew if he didn’t leave the room immediately, he would humiliate himself and never be able to look at his mate again. He pulled back from her lips and touched their foreheads together. “That was...” He swallowed hard and stood. “To answer your question, no. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” Mason hated pulling away, but he needed five minutes alone. “I’ll be right back,” he muttered and made his way to his apartment.
