by Tamsin Baker
EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2017 Tamsin Baker
ISBN: 978-1-77339-355-1
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Editor: Karyn White
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
To my awesome street team who requested a Gargoyle shifter book. A first for me. So I hope you guys love it!
HER KNIGHT IN SHINING STONE
The Gargoyles of New York, 1
Tamsin Baker
Copyright © 2017
Chapter One
Roman
The city below buzzes like a busy beehive, with the daily running of things. People rushing back and forth in their hectic lives, not slowing down for one moment to look around to see what is around them. Nor what towers over them.
My brothers and I sit, frozen, on top of one of the oldest buildings in New York. The public city library. Three stories up, we are by far not the most impressive of skyscrapers, and yet we hold a long-forgotten secret. One that we protect every night.
The sun descends out of the sky, dropping away like a ball of heat into a pool of water.
My entire body tingled, heat running down the length of my spine like a hot waterfall, trickling out towards my pointed tail and towards my frozen wings.
Only a few more moments of waiting and I will awaken, thank the heavens for that.
Dmitri, my daytime caretaker, shouts out to me, and I can’t respond to him yet. He should know that by now. The magic that binds us, takes away our human form, and heals us through the day will wear off soon.
My skin splinters, and I stretch to a standing position, pain ricocheting through my body as I stand, letting my now human muscles lengthen.
“Woah. That’s a rush.”
My head is spinning, and not from the heights. It’s getting harder and harder to shift back from my Gargoyle state after sundown. My mate must be found. For over a hundred and twenty years I have been waiting for her, to no avail.
Darkness falls, and my brothers move. I stand at the front of the building, yet I can see them shifting behind me.
“Roman! Are you all right?” Dmitri’s insistent voice makes me turn and leap up onto the rooftop. My handler has noticed the changes in me. The stiffness, the pain that comes. He’s never said anything, though, and I am grateful for the respect he shows me.
I lay my hand on Dmitri’s arm. “Of course, my friend. Take your leave. Thank you.”
Dmitri inclines his head and bows away, his heavily armed body slinking into the night with his comrades. The men who protect us while we sleep.
When we are frozen in our Gargoyle form through the daylight hours, we are vulnerable to attack. Some of our distant family in Chicago have been killed this past year, murdered while vulnerable.
After that, my brothers and I increased our protection from one lazy guard to several professionals.
“Roman. What’s the plan tonight, my brother?” Nate, the youngest of us four, comes at me with a grin, his happy face something I missed in the dark hours of my daytime cursed life.
“I believe the expression is ‘let’s party like it’s 1999’?”
I chuckle as my baby brother rolls his eyes at me.
“It’s the year 2017, Roman. Get a grip.”
Rafael and Gabriel turn away from our conversation to leave the building our usual way, stepping up onto the ledge and spreading their wings out wide.
“You guys going straight to Nova?” I ask. It’s our favorite local bar. Full of alcohol, willing women, and the place is dark enough that the patrons don’t often notice the silver in our eyes that give us away to anyone who knows what we are.
“Yes.”
I want to go with them, but my wings need a stretch, and something is bugging me tonight. I know that the time has come. That I need to do more than party away my loneliness. There is a siren calling to me from the north of the city. I am listening.
“I’m going for a spin. Meet up with you guys later.”
Gabe, the closest to me in age, turned. “You want some company?”
Not really.
“No. All good. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
My three brothers blacken out the city lights for me for a moment with their wings as they take to the sky, and together, they soar above the roofs of New York City. A city, they say, that never sleeps.
However, my heart is telling me to take to the skies and follow.
I will go wherever it leads.
I stretch my wings out wide, the strength in the extensions of my back making me smile. Old I may be, but I am the strongest of us.
For now, at least.
Our elders warned me of the risks of staying unmated for so long. An insanity would settle in the longer I was alone, and there had been stories of suiciding Gargoyles who were unmated.
The clock is ticking, and my heart knows it. I hope it will know where to find her, and soon.
I fly up and around the huge buildings that crowd my beautiful city. New York has changed a lot in the century I’ve watched the city grow. Horses and carts have been replaced by brightly colored machines, and the small, multi-storied houses and shops have been knocked down to make way for buildings that scrape the sky.
Fuck … what’s that?
My heart begins to pound in my chest, like a galloping horse towards the final flag.
I fly lower, a strange heat filling up my belly, weakening my body until I fall to the ground, my wings folding into my back, invisible to the human eye.
A light shines out of a shop window, and I walk forward to see what my heart wants me to find. I stop and I stare, unable to stop myself from watching the woman serving a table in a restaurant.
She has wildly curly long red hair.
The word untamable comes to mind.
She smiles at the couple, and I drop to my knees, light piercing my chest as both pain, and the most incredible pleasure filters through me.
My Beloved. She’s my one and only.
I take a few deep breaths to calm my racing heart. The poor organ wants to jump right out of my chest.
I know. Relax. I know. I’ll get her.
Beloveds are often fragile humans, but once the union is completed, she will become immortal. Like me.
I push myself to my feet, my head feeling strangely drunk as I stagger to the door of the restaurant.
No one has ever prepared me for how this would feel. I’d always thought I’d see my Beloved, I’d kiss her, talk her into living forever. Done.
I’ve never experienced a true romantic love before, and although I’d known it, the feelings flooding my body now, confirm it. My connection to my brothers was the only true thing I have ever felt. But this … this is something else.
I fall into a black chair, my legs weak and wobbly. I grab for the menu. Gargoyles could eat only meat, the rarer the better. Almost everything else makes us very sick.
“Hello… Can I help you?” The waitress, my Beloved, stands over me with eyes the size of swimming pools.
Can she feel the connection? The pull to me? I hope so.
“Hello. I will
have three T-bone steaks. Blue. As rare as possible. Please.”
Her eyes widen further, not an unusual reaction on humans when they hear my deep baritone. No matter how hard I try, the ancient accent I was born with will not change.
“Yes, of course. Ah … I … do I know you?”
She places a small dainty hand on my table to steady herself, and her bright blue eyes gaze at me like she’s never seen someone like me before. Which in truth, she hasn’t.
“No. But I’d like to know you. I can pick you up after your shift?”
“I … um…” Her head swivels around to look back at the kitchen. “I have a boyfriend.”
A deep anger settles into my gut with the weight of stone. I swallow down the groan of possession that rises like a tide, hot and tight.
“That is no matter. I will sit here until closing.”
She opens her mouth as though she’s going to say something else, but then she changes her mind. Closing it, and with a nod on her head, she disappears to do her work.
My steaks arrive ten minutes later, and I begin to eat, consuming the warm flesh, feeling my strength renew.
She is poetry in action, with sensuality like a siren and the cuteness of a kitten all in one. What an incredible woman Fate has chosen for me.
I send up a silent prayer.
Thank you.
What will she be like to come home to each evening? Where does she live now? Not that much of any of that matters now. I have enough money to buy her anything she likes. If she doesn’t want to stay in the apartment my brothers and I share, she can choose something else. But she must live somewhere close to the library, so I can watch her through the days.
The night wears on, but I never get tired of watching her interact with the other patrons, nor the way she shoots me interested, hungry looks to see if I am still here. When she looks at me her pupils dilate and her beautiful red lips part as though she struggles for breath.
As my memory searches inside my mind for all the information I have on Gargoyle-human unions, I draw many a blank. I should have paid closer attention to the elders from Chicago when they spoke of this. There is no one to ask now. They’ve all been killed.
Canada… There are elders there. I could go tonight, ask them what I must do.
“Hey. You know I can’t go home with you, yeah?” The woman, my gorgeous Beloved, slides up next to me and sits down in the chair opposite me.
“Why? Because you have a boyfriend?”
She nods her head. “Yes. And he’s the chef. He won’t like you even giving me this much attention, so please … go. Before he gets angry.”
Her gaze darts from me to the kitchen and back. Could she be afraid of this man who is meant to protect her?
I cock my head, not giving a royal flying fuck about the boyfriend. I will tear him into two pieces if I have to. “Are you happy … ah—”
I glance down at her name tag, and the name I read doesn’t seem to match her. Suzie?
She covers it with one hand. “Oh, I left my nametag at home. My name’s Christiana, Chrissy for short.”
“Christiana.” The name rolls off my tongue the way her honeyed pussy soon will.
She shivers as though she hears my inner thought.
“Are you happy, Christiana?”
“Um, I…”
She leans forward, and one of her stray curls falls over her cheek. I reach over and brush it away using the tips of my fingers.
“It doesn’t seem like you’re very happy with this boyfriend of yours.”
She couldn’t be. Fate would not have chosen a Beloved for me who was happy and loved by another. I simply did not believe that.
Christiana shivers and bites her lip, a soft moan reaching my ears, though she tries to stifle it.
Her pupils dilate further, until I can barely see the blue of her iris.
“Who are you?” she asks, barely moving.
“I am Roman. I am here for you.”
Her mouth falls open, and I clench my jaw in an effort not to move closer. The need to kiss her is so strong.
A uniformed man storms out of the kitchen and grabs her arm, yanking her to her feet.
“What are you doing?” he demands in a loud voice, and she cringes, the pain obviously too much to bear.
I jump to my feet, grab him by the back of his dirty chef’s shirt, and yank him away from her.
She falls forward, and I catch her so she doesn’t stumble. It’s lucky everyone else has gone home, because I have a feeling this is going to get messy.
“Don’t ever touch her again.” I growl, stepping in front of her to shield her as the man, who is obviously her boyfriend, clenches his fists as though he wants to brawl with me, right here in the restaurant.
I don’t mind. Something inside me tells me I’ll enjoy hitting this asshole. There is no one else around, and it won’t matter if he sees me for what I am. No one would believe him. They never do. Humans have no concept of how many paranormal creatures are around them every day.
I stare at him, and he falters, seeing something in my eyes that I know he will interpret as unearthly. And he will be right.
The coward backs away, going into the kitchen once again, and Christiana rounds on me, rubbing her arm.
“Why’d you do that for? He’s going to be so mad at me now. Please … please. Just go.”
Her lower lip trembles, and my jaw clenches.
I try not to roll my eyes. Him upset? Like I care. I have a Beloved to unite with and three brothers to keep alive. One ugly, angry human means nothing.
“It does not matter. After tonight, you will know only me.”
Her arms fall to her sides, limp. “How do I know you?”
There is only one way to show her. I step forward and pull her close, letting my hands wrap around her tiny waist.
When she tilts up her head, I take my time and stare down into her perfect face.
“Your eyes are silver.” She whispers to me as though she were telling me something I didn’t know, and yet she is unfazed.
Which is good. Most humans freak out when they see my eyes.
“I know.”
I drop my head and let our lips meet for the very first time.
She gasps against my mouth, and I inhale her scent. Orange perfection, sweet and slightly tangy. I press closer, sweeping my tongue into her mouth to taste her so that she can also taste me.
Christiana’s arms go around me, holding me tight. As though I would move away.
Never.
She moans softly, the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard, and lust slams into my groin with a swift kick.
I let my hands explore her plump ass, wishing we were home already so I could enjoy her body properly.
The sound of a shotgun being cocked is not one you forget.
I push my Beloved away, spin around, and extend my wings to cover the breadth of the room. Though invisible to the human eye, they will protect Christiana in the case that the guy with the gun did something stupid.
The moron boyfriend has a gun pointed straight at my chest, and he doesn’t know I am an immortal. Even more of an idiot.
“Leave, fuck-wit. Now.” He spits at me, and I grin back, exposing my razor-sharp teeth.
He blinks, obviously unsure of what he is seeing.
“Oh my God, are they … wings?” Christiana squeals behind me.
Well that’s something new I’ve learned today. My Beloved can see my wings. Yes, she’s definitely mine. No human has ever seen my true form before.
The dickhead in front of me, however, has no idea what he is dealing with.
“I am going to take Christiana home. You will never see her again. Do you understand?” I speak slowly so the idiot can keep up.
He continues to point the gun at me, and my temper snaps.
I stride forward, and the gun goes off, blasting into my side. It burns, but only pushes my temper higher.
I grab the old gun and break it in half, the screech of metal
piercing the silence of the room.
The scent of urine stinks up the air, and I look down to see the chef standing in a yellow puddle.
Lovely.
I give him a disgusted look, retract my wings and turn around.
Christiana hasn’t fainted as I expected her to. Instead, she is grabbing white cloth napkins and running to me, pressing them into my side where a faint red blush stains my white t-shirt.
“You’re hit!” she cries, her worry for me clearly over whelming her. “And he … and he…”
“I’m fine. He missed,” I say, pushing the napkins away.
“He didn’t miss! I…” She stops, staring up at me again with her beautiful, big eyes. “Are you an angel?”
Close enough. “I’m taking you home. My home.”
“But … my stuff. My clothes, my photos, my… He’s going to be so angry…”
I groan and try to hold on to my patience. “I can buy you anything you need.”
She reaches out and grips my arm. “Please. I need to go get my things before he burns them all. He’s so horrible, you have no idea. He’ll destroy everything I love. Please.”
Never having been a human, I didn’t understand their obsession with earthly possessions, but as her eyes well up, I know this was a fight I am going to lose.
“All right. Let’s go. I’m not leaving you alone.”
She nods. “No problem. Our apartment isn’t far. Can we go now?”
She seems agitated, and it’s probably due to the dipshit behind me.
“Yes.”
I grab her hand and drag her from the restaurant. Her waitressing days are done.
“Where’s your apartment, Beloved?”
“Ah, there!” She points to a second level on an old apartment block.
I follow her into the dinky little building and let her pick up her things. Her life, and mine, are about to change, and neither of us truly know how much.
Chapter Two
Christiana
