Sin (The Stone Society Book 8)

by Faith Gibson

  Maybe since Uri was staying with Fin, he was getting decent meals. If Uri wasn’t any better of a cook than Finley was, they were probably living on takeout. Thinking about Uri, Sin tried his number again. If Uri was with Finley when Sin called, he’d invite them both so things wouldn’t seem so awkward. Sin also wanted to see how Uri and Banyan were getting along, so he made that phone call as well. Since they still had time to kill, Sinclair invited Banyan over to hang out until later.

  Sin showered and dressed, opting for casual. He debated briefly about shaving his beard but thought better of it. He hated shaving every day. As he was walking toward the kitchen, the motor of Banyan’s car sounded in the driveway. Sin grabbed the whiskey and a couple of cigars and headed to the patio.

  Driving out to the desert and letting his shifter loose had been a good decision. Urijah returned early that morning to an empty house, knowing who Finley had spent the night with. He decided not to ruin his friendship with Fin by being a little bitch about it. It took a while, but Uri realized Finley was going to be Finley, and he was never going to see Uri the way he wanted to be seen. When Uri left that morning to go to the armory, Finley still hadn’t returned. He was a big Goyle, and Urijah had to let him go. Urijah had thought about getting his own place, but he was almost finished with his assignment. It would be stupid to rent a house for a few days, so Uri decided to suck it up and deal.

  When he entered Fin’s home that evening, Uri went in search of his friend. He found Finley sprawled out on the sofa, flipping channels on the television. Finley had obviously taken a shower, because he smelled like his bodywash. When Finley moved to the West Coast, Uri had bought a bottle of the stuff so he could remember what Fin smelled like.

  “Finally,” Fin said when Uri sat down on the sofa next to him. Fin tossed him a controller and brought their favorite game up on the screen. He didn’t ask how Uri’s day was. Didn’t tell him what he’d been doing all day. They weren’t involved intimately, so Finley didn’t share with Uri the way a partner would. Uri should have been used to it, but he still wanted the domesticity that came with having a mate. We have a mate. Uri’s shifter never let him forget there was someone else out there besides Finley. Uri ignored the shifter and concentrated on the game.

  Normally Uri loved playing games, but he was nervous about the night before. He’d wondered all day whether or not Finley had known Uri was being a voyeur. If he had, Fin didn’t mention it. He treated Uri the same as he always did when they were going head to head. Finley was competitive, and he did anything he could to distract Uri into screwing up.

  They were deep into a game when Uri’s phone rang. Finley paused their video game so he could answer it. It was Sinclair. If Finley hadn’t been sitting there, Uri would let it go to voicemail. He wasn’t ready to talk to Sin, but he couldn’t ignore him without explaining why to Finley. “Hello?” Urijah answered.

  “There is this little bar not too far from here I want to check out. Can you and Fin put down the video games long enough to go do something a little more grown up?” Sinclair asked. Uri noticed Sinclair had yet to tone down his formal way of speaking, even after almost six hundred years.

  Uri didn’t need to repeat the question for Fin. He was sitting next to him on the sofa, his controller idle on his lap.

  “Why? Do you need chaperones?” Fin asked as he stood. He strode to the entertainment console and turned the game off. He was obviously on board with going out. Urijah had hoped he would at least have Fin to himself for one last night before he went back home.

  “No, smartass. I want your opinions on the bar. I am thinking about buying it.”

  Uri wasn’t ready to face Sinclair. The Goyle had to have known he’d shown up at his home. Sighing to himself, he said, “Text me the address, and we’ll meet you there.”

  “Coming to you now.” Sin disconnected without saying goodbye. For some reason, the Goyle never signed off on his phone calls. They all had their quirks, so Uri went with it.

  “You okay with going? I know you’re not big into the bar scene,” Fin asked him.

  “Yeah. You’re probably getting tired of me anyway.”

  “Nah. Give me another couple of weeks, and I’ll be hiding from you.”

  Urijah laughed, but he really didn’t find the comment funny. He had a feeling Finley was already tired of spending every night on the sofa playing video games with him. Last night was proof. What Uri didn’t understand was why he was so hung up on Finley. They were compatible in every way that mattered between friends, and when they did get around to having sex, it was good. But Uri knew Finley didn’t want him the same way.

  When Sixx asked if they were mates, Uri assured him they were not. He knew for a fact they weren’t, but it didn’t make him want Finley any less. Uri was attracted to him, but the deep longing the others spoke of when referring to their mates wasn’t present. At least not with Finley. Uri knew the truth deep down, but he couldn’t allow his shifter to get riled up, so he refused to think about someone else.

  Uri offered to drive since his SUV was sitting in the driveway. He preferred to drive anyway. He was all about being in control, and lately, he’d felt anything but. The drive was comfortable as it usually was. Finley loved to sing, and Uri loved to listen to his friend. Even though he wasn’t good at it, Finley belted out the songs and kept Uri entertained. The closer they got to their destination, the more confused Uri became. When Sinclair invited them out for drinks, Uri had expected to head toward the city. Instead, they were heading away from it. “Do you know where we’re going?” he asked Fin.

  “Nope. But with Sinclair, you can never tell. One night we’re wearing dress clothes and sipping champagne. The next, we’re in shorts and flip flops drinking beer at a beach bonfire. The male is all over the place when it comes to nightly entertainment.” Uri knew the previous night had been filled with champagne. He’d seen the empty bottles.

  When they pulled into the parking lot in front of the building Sinclair had sent the address for, Uri was pretty sure they wouldn’t be ordering Dom Pérignon. “What the hell?” he muttered. There was no valet parking. The bar could only be described as a dive. There were quite a few vehicles lined up along the front of the building. Uri looked around for Sin’s Lamborghini, praying the male had enough sense to drive something else. As a Gargoyle, Uri wasn’t scared, but he didn’t take the area for the safest place either.

  As the two of them made their way inside, Uri’s shifter eyesight quickly adjusted to the dim lights. The place was larger than it looked from the outside. There was a long bar along the back wall of the room. Booths and high tops made up the right side of the building, while the left was filled with pool tables, dart boards, and an old-fashioned juke box. The middle of the room was open. Uri assumed it was the dance floor.

  A low whistle caught their attention. Sinclair was shooting pool. With Banyan. “What the fuck?” The Goyle smirked at Urijah, his shifter hearing allowing him to catch what Uri had said. The atmosphere grew thick, almost suffocating. Uri felt like the room was closing in on him. Sin had invited Uri over to witness his best friend with someone else, and now he had invited the one male Uri avoided at all costs to have drinks with them. Was Sinclair trying to piss him off?

  Finley walked up to Banyan, shaking his hand. He obviously had no quarrel with the other male. Then again, he didn’t know him the way Uri did. Fuck it. Keep your head down and your eyes to yourself. Do not let him bait you. Urijah followed his best friend over to where Sin and Banyan were in the middle of a game and halfway through a pitcher of beer.

  Fin sidled up to the table, eyeing the number of solids versus stripes. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a game so evenly matched.”

  Sinclair downed the last of his beer and refilled his glass. “Banyan is not bad. I hear Uri is pretty good, too.”

  Finley laughed, because he knew the truth. The only person better at pool he’d seen was Tessa. Gregor’s mate could run the table before even the Gargoy
les could blink. “I’m not bad,” Uri replied, grinning at Sin.

  “It really doesn’t matter who’s not bad. Uri’s on my team,” Fin declared. “Do we have a waitress, or do I need to go to the bar?” he asked, looking around.

  “The bartender is doing double duty since it is slow. You will probably be served faster if you go to her,” Sin informed him as he set up his next shot. Urijah hadn’t seen Sin play, but he and Banyan had gone head to head in the past. In more ways than one. Sin sank two balls in a row, but didn’t leave himself set up for the third. Instead of taking a shit shot, he played defense and left the cue ball in a bad spot for Banyan. The big blond took his time, observing where his balls were on the table. He leaned over his stick, but before he took his shot, he winked at Uri. He pulled his stick back and tapped the cue ball. Barely missing Sin’s nine ball, it struck his own thirteen with just enough force to knock it in the pocket.

  “Fucking lucky shot!” Sin declared, laughing.

  Banyan grinned. “Looks like Uri’s my lucky charm.” He rounded the table to set up for his next shot, ignoring the scowl on Uri’s face.

  Uri tried distracting the male. “Shouldn’t you be patrolling?”

  Knocking the eleven in, Banyan asked, “Shouldn’t you be at the armory?”

  Urijah waited until Banyan was about to hit the cue ball and said, “I have been all day, making the swords you were supposed to pick up this afternoon.” Banyan missed the shot and glared at Uri.

  “I did pick them up. After you left so I wouldn’t run into you. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  Ignoring the undercurrent between Uri and Banyan, Sin laughed. “Lucky charm, huh? Maybe he is mine.” Sin proceeded to run the table. When he sank the eight ball in the called pocket, he asked, “Partners now?”

  Urijah nodded. He was looking forward to this. He and Finley were a hard pair to beat. “Yes, and like Fin said, he and I are a team.” Urijah racked the balls for the next game while he waited on Fin to get back with the beer.

  They started off betting a hundred bucks per game. By the time Banyan had lost a thousand, he was ready to up the ante. “One game. Just you and me,” he propositioned Uri in his low, sexy voice. It had always unsettled Uri.

  “What is the wager?” Urijah asked, but should have known better.

  “Loser cooks for the winner.”

  “I’ve eaten your cooking. I think I’ll pass,” Uri huffed. Banyan was actually a fabulous cook and had taught Uri everything he knew.

  “I tell you what. If I win, you cook for me. If you win, you can choose anything you want as your prize.” Banyan loved baiting Uri. He always had. It was one of the reasons Urijah wanted nothing to do with him. He had his friendship with Finley, and that was all he needed. Not someone like Banyan who didn’t know when to quit. Or how to take no for an answer.

  Forgetting they had an audience, Uri told him, “You know my cooking sucks. It hasn’t improved in the last thirty years.”

  “I’ll take my chances.” Banyan’s expression let Uri know he was referring to more than food.

  “It’s your stomach. Break ‘em.” Urijah grabbed the chalk from the table and twisted it on the end of his cue. Sinclair and Finley were eyeing him and Banyan curiously. Well, fuck. Being around the other Goyle made Urijah forget his surroundings. Made him forget why Uri did his best to stay away from the other male. Uri chose to ignore their questioning looks. Sin, he wasn’t worried about, but Fin would surely question him on the ride home. As long as they had been friends, Urijah had never spoken of his time in New Orleans.

  Urijah didn’t want to cook for Banyan, so he concentrated on every shot, making sure to leave the cue ball set up for the next. Shot after shot, he sank his balls into the pocket he called. When it got down to the eight ball, Banyan did his best to distract Uri. He stood next to him leaving barely any space between them. He leaned over and whispered in Uri’s ear, “You’ve always been good with balls. And holes.”

  Luckily, the shot was a straight one. One Uri could have made with his eyes closed, because Banyan’s hot breath on his ear was enough to jolt even the most stoic of Goyles. Sin and Finley were clapping and grinning until Sin grabbed his stomach and moaned. Finley gripped his bicep asking if he was okay. While Sin was feeling sick, a familiar voice reached Urijah’s ears. He looked around the room to see who was there. Several more people had entered the bar since he and Finley had. He had been so focused on the game that he hadn’t been paying attention to the other patrons. All the booths and tables were full, as were the seats at the bar. A couple of girls were dancing together, one a redhead who looked too familiar.

  Uri forgot all about his past with Banyan and Sinclair’s sudden stomach ailment. Vivian was dancing with a brunette, and by dancing he meant they were practically holding each other up. Vivian did not look happy. Luckily, Finley was focused on Sinclair and not the redhead.

  The brunette didn’t look coherent. He reached out with his senses to listen in on their conversation. “Dammit, Rocky! Girl, you need to fucking focus.”

  “’s not my fault. I was sitting on the beach, and he showed up. Can’t. Stand. Up.” The brunette hadn’t been wrong. She slid out of Vivian’s arms and crumpled in a heap. Without thinking, Uri rushed to the female’s side and lifted her from the floor.

  “Follow me,” Vivian said. Uri carried the unresponsive brunette to a small office in the back of the building immediately past the restrooms. He laid her down on a worn-out, leather sofa that was full of bare spots. “Jesus fucking Christ, Rocky. I swear…” Vivian closed her mouth when she noticed Urijah. “You. What are you doing here?”

  “He’s with me,” Finley said from the doorway. “Viv, what’s going on?”

  “She’s been drugged.”

  “Call an ambulance,” Uri instructed. While he let Finley hash things out with the redhead, he reached out with his senses and checked the female over internally as best he could. Fin and Vivian were now out in the hall trying to calm another female voice.

  The brunette slurred, “No, no hos…pit…al.”

  “What can I do to help?” Banyan asked, squatting down at Uri’s knees. “How bad is she?”

  “Please call an ambulance. Her heart rate is slowing.”

  “Rocky? Rocky!” the bartender yelled, running into the now crowded office. “Oh, God! Is she dead?” The other woman was growing more hysterical by the minute.

  “Finley, a little assistance please.” Urijah needed to keep an eye on Rocky. She hadn’t passed out, and she was doing her best to argue even though she was weak. Banyan was calling for help. Sinclair hadn’t made an appearance, so that left Finley. When his friend appeared in the doorway, Uri pointed to the bartender. “Please take her out of here. Find Sinclair and shut the bar down. I’ll pay for any open tabs. I need it fucking quiet in here.”

  Finley wrapped his arm around the bartender and did as Urijah asked. Banyan knelt back down beside Urijah, their knees touching. Fuck, Urijah couldn’t breathe. With his phone to his ear, Banyan told whoever was on the other end of the line as much as he knew. “Do you know what she took?” Uri asked Vivian.

  “Not take…” the woman on the sofa said before her head rolled the side.

  “She said she was drugged. If that’s the case, whatever he gave her was some bad shit,” Vivian said.

  “He who?” Banyan asked as he hung up.

  “Her ex. He got her hooked once before, but she’s been clean for almost a year. He’s a real piece of shit, and if I get my hands on the bastard...”

  Uri had not liked Vivian when he first met the redhead, but the way she was being protective of her friend said something about the woman. This obviously wasn’t the first time she’d taken care of her friend.

  “Viv, who are you going to put your hands on?” Finley asked when he stuck his head in the room.

  “Her ex.” Vivian squatted next to Rocky’s head and stroked her hair back. “It’s gonna be okay, Rocky girl. We’ve been through wor
se,” she whispered, probably only loud enough for Rocky to hear, but with his shifter hearing, Uri caught her words.

  “The ambulance is here,” Banyan said. He placed his hand on Uri’s shoulder and gave him a squeeze. “I’m going to go show them where we are.” Banyan left the room, and Uri closed his eyes. Bastard. His body betrayed him, again, from just one touch.

  “I don’t hear the ambulance,” Vivian said, frowning when the sirens finally were audible to her human ears.

  Uri twisted so he could adjust his cock which was painfully pushing against his zipper. Thankfully, Vivian was still focused on her friend’s face. The front door opened, and the paramedics were wheeling the stretcher in. Urijah stood so he could give them some room, pulling Vivian along with him. “Let’s give them some space.”

  “Who?” she asked. Uri pointed to the door as soon as the first EMT came through. She frowned again, but he ignored her.

  “So nobody knows what she took?” one EMT asked as he began working on Rocky.

  “She didn’t take anything. She was given something. You need to call that bastard Blake Stansbury and ask him what it was. He’s the one who did this to her,” Vivian protested.

  “Did you see him give it to her?”

  “No, but they have a history,” Vivian tried to explain.

  “So she’s used before?” the EMT continued.

  Urijah interrupted them. “Sir, her pulse is fading. If you would, please tend to the girl, and we’ll answer your questions when you get her stable,” Urijah stood to his full height, and the EMT bristled but got busy checking Rocky’s vitals. Speaking into the two-way radio on his shoulder, he reported her information to the hospital after he and the other EMT got Rocky situated on the stretcher.