The Greystone Bundle (Books 1-4)

by Taylor Longford

  He swept me off my feet and into the bathroom where he stood me beside the sink and started cleaning the wound with warm water and a soft facecloth. "How did this happen?" he growled.

  I couldn't look him in the eye. "A harpy broke in here on Wednesday night while you were at your interview. Well, just her arm, actually. She dragged me through the bathroom window and a piece of glass scratched my leg on the way out."

  "And you didn't tell me?" he asked, thoroughly stunned.

  "I'm sorry," I said in a small voice. "I was waiting until we went to Pine Grove so I could tell everyone at once."

  He dipped the washcloth in the sink again then squeezed it out. "How did you get away from her?"

  "Motschka dropped me…after a while."

  "After a while?" he almost shouted as his eyes searched my frame for additional damage. "How far did you fall?"

  "Not very far," I lied, trying to figure out how to deal with the questions that were coming fast and furious.

  "How far?" he insisted, quite clearly angry that I'd kept the truth from him.

  "About a thousand feet," I answered faintly. "Chaos caught me."

  The look in his eyes turned from anger to fury with a strong dose of betrayal mixed in. "What?" he yelled.

  I could hardly find my voice. "Chaos caught me and brought me back to the apartment."

  His face turned dark with rage. Sadly for me, it didn't make him any less good looking. He was beautiful in his fury. Like a black storm of emotion. "How could you not tell me this? How could you not tell me that you saw my brother? That's he's alive! You know how much I've been worrying about him, how much we've all been worrying."

  "I'm sorry," was all I could say. "I just…didn't want you changing your mind about the scholarship. I was afraid you'd back out if I told you."

  "It wasn't your decision to make!" he cut at me while he continued to clean the long sore on my leg. His gentle handling of my wound was a sharp contrast to his terse words.

  "I'm sorry," I kept saying, even though I knew it was a lame apology. "I'm sorry."

  "Did Chaos say anything about the others? About Force and Courage?"

  "Just that he didn't know where they are," I answered miserably.

  Reason finished cleaning the wound then patted it dry with a soft towel. "What should we put on this?" he asked roughly. "Do you have some sort of healing potions we can use?"

  I knew he was seriously rocked when he started using words like "healing potions". Avoiding his gaze, I dug through the bathroom cupboard and pulled out the peroxide my mom had sent with me. After he swabbed the scrape with peroxide, he smoothed on a thin coat of the antibiotic ointment I'd used earlier.

  "Thank you," I said in a tiny voice and turned away from him, scurrying into the kitchen and reclaiming my jeans from the kitchen floor where he'd just almost kissed me a little earlier. I guessed that wasn't going to happen again anytime soon, if the look on his face was anything to go by. My chin started to tremble and I pressed my lips together, determined not to cry under any circumstances.

  "Let's go," he growled as I buttoned the top of my jeans.

  My head jerked upward and I checked his face. "Where to?"

  He pulled on his leather jacket and tossed me my coat. "Pine Grove," he answered in two blunt words.

  Okay. So, I guessed "marking me" was out as firmly as "kissing me". I sucked my lips between my teeth and bit down hard, pressing my wrist beneath my nose because it was starting to run the slightest bit.

  "And on the way there, you can tell me everything my brother said. Then you can repeat every word for the rest of the pack." He headed toward the door and I shrugged into my coat then got my messenger bag from the couch. I found a cheap pair of knitted gloves in my pocket and pulled them on. At least I didn't have to bend my leg anymore to pretend I was okay. I kept it straight and stumped across the room.

  Looking impatient with me, he strode toward me like he was going to pick me up.

  "I'm okay," I insisted, and took a step backward while holding my hands up in a leave-me-alone gesture. "You don't have to carry me."

  "Whatever," he growled.

  I stumped down the stairs behind him, keeping my bad leg straight. Inside the car, he asked for my phone and used it to call Pine Grove, telling his family we were on our way with some important news.

  Traveling down the Colorado highways, I strung out the story of Elaina-vs-the-Harpy as long as I could, making it last, because I was pretty sure Reason wouldn't be talking to me after I finished. Eventually, my story wound down to Chaos's rescue and his last words to me.

  "He said you should look for the others. That he wasn't worth saving." I slid a quick look in Reason's direction. My gaze snagged on his chiseled profile as he reached up and scraped a hand back through his hair. "Why would he say something like that?" I asked tentatively.

  "I don't know," he answered in a low voice.

  But I got the feeling he had some ideas that he wasn't sharing. From my meager knowledge of gargoyles, I knew it was considered bad for a gargoyle to give his poison to a harpy. I knew it was even worse for him to give her his rune. But would that be bad enough to make a pack give up on one of its members? To leave him behind? Or to ostracize him? "What would you do if you found out Chaos had given his rune to a harpy?"

  "We'd go get him. Destroy the harpy and bring him back."

  "Does Chaos know that?"

  "Aye, but he wouldn't want to expose us to the danger of fighting both him and the super harpy."

  So, maybe that's why Chaos had said he wasn't worth saving. He didn't want to risk the lives of his pack. Maybe. But that didn't explain the look on his face—the look of bitter disgust and…self-loathing. Like he didn't even want to be who he was. There was something more.

  I searched my memory again, for everything I knew about harpies…and everything I didn't know. Suddenly, something dropped into place inside my head. My eyes went wide and my heart started pounding heavily in my chest. "Where do harpies come from?" I asked Reason without looking at him.

  He didn't answer. But his silence just reinforced my belief that I was on the right track.

  I bit my lip and threw a glance at him. "I know gargoyles are born when a human female marries a gargoyle. I also know there are no male harpies. So, who fathers young harpies?"

  "Are you sure you want to know?" he asked in a low snarl, the words so guttural it sounded like he'd scraped them up from the bottom of his soul.

  "No," I whispered. "But tell me anyway."

  It took him several more seconds to respond. It seemed like he was waiting for the end of the world or some other timely catastrophe that would rescue him from answering my question. When he finally did start talking, his expression was tortured. "Gargoyles," he spat.

  My stomach turned at the idea. But not out of disgust for the gargoyle who'd been forced into such a dark union. It was just that I understood how horrible it would be for a gargoyle, as much as they hate the evil embodied by a harpy.

  "It doesn't happen often," Reason said in a gravelly voice.

  That might be true. But "often" is a relative expression. And obviously it did happen…sometimes, otherwise there wouldn't be any harpies.

  "It usually happens when a harpy threatens someone a gargoyle loves." He pulled in a long breath. "A gargoyle has two choices if he can't kill the harpy. Take his own life and hope the harpy won't kill his lover in revenge…or bargain for the life of his loved one."

  "Can he trust the harpy to honor her end of the bargain?" I questioned him a little incredulously.

  "Most of the time," he muttered. "If harpies didn't keep that promise, then gargoyles would never give in." He looked out the side window and I barely heard his next words. "Are you disgusted?" he asked.

  I shook my head slowly and chose my words carefully. I wanted to be sure he knew where I stood, and where I thought he should be standing. "I think if a gargoyle did that, it would be a huge sacrifice on his part."

 
; He turned his head back toward me, and I caught of glimpse of relief in his eyes. I couldn't help but wonder why he even cared about my opinion. It's not like we'd ever been friends and right now we were like miles away from anything even close to friendship. "The motives aren't always unselfish," he admitted in a growling sigh. "Sometimes a gargoyle will trade with a harpy for treasure."

  I wasn't exactly sure what he meant by treasure, but I figured he meant something of worldly value. "Well, that's not the case with Chaos," I said firmly.

  "Nay," he agreed just as definitely. "And at this point, there's no reason to assume the worst."

  Havoc was waiting for us at the rental's front door. As he swung it open for us, Reason scooped me into his arms, carried me through the house and plunked me down on one of the kitchen chairs. He threw his knife onto the center of the small table while the rest of the pack gathered into the room and set their blades beside his. "Tell them," he commanded.

  "I…saw Chaos," I said without lifting my head. "I talked to him." And I told them the whole story.

  "This was back on Wednesday night," Reason growled and glared at me. "I just found out about it."

  "Elaina must have had a good reason for what she did," Havoc suggested quietly.

  It was nice of Havoc to stick up for me but, suddenly, my reasons didn't seem so great anymore. "I didn't really mean to keep the information away from Reason," I told them. "But he was offered a special art scholarship at CU and I didn't want him to turn it down. I was afraid he would if he knew about the harpy attack."

  "You had no right—" Reason started.

  But Victor's voice cut through his with a quelling tone. "What's this about a scholarship?"

  I looked at Reason but he just set his mouth. It was obvious that anything less than a pry bar wasn't going to get him to talk. So, I told the pack about his interview with the art department and how the professors were so impressed with Reason's work that they were personally funding a scholarship so he could continue his studies.

  "You did the right thing," Victor said when I'd finished.

  My eyes widened. "I did?"

  While Reason gave the pack leader an impatient stare, Victor turned a serious look on his brother. "Elaina was going to tell us. She was just delaying the timing to make sure you didn't do the wrong thing again."

  "Again?" Reason almost shouted. "What the hell do you mean?"

  "You're always making sacrifices for everyone else," Victor answered calmly. "Ever since that harpy attack back in York. It's time you thought about yourself for a change."

  Reason leaned over the table and hissed, "What about Chaos? What about the others. She delayed our chance to follow up—"

  "By a few days," Victor finished for him. "And what could we have done anyhow? We still don't know where Chaos is. Or where the others are."

  Without lifting my head, I sneaked a glance at Defiance who was leaning against the kitchen counter. He didn't look like he particularly agreed with Victor. But everyone else looked like they were with me—Dare, Valor, MacKenzie and Havoc.

  "We can still continue with your plan to find out where the harpy that attacked you is hiding. And she still might be able to lead us to Chaos or the others."

  Everyone watched Reason, waiting for him to give in and agree with his older brother. But that's not what happened. After several seconds, he finally said, "We need a new plan."

  My head whipped up and I held my breath. I had a pretty good idea what he was going to say next.

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. "Because I won't be marking Elaina."

  Chapter Seventeen

  I pushed back in my chair. I was pissed. Really pissed and really insulted. And I guess I was hurt. In the end, I'd wanted to wear Reason's rune. I wanted to be his girl. Even if it meant forever. Especially if it meant forever! I took in the serious faces of the pack and felt like crying. I wanted to be part of this wonderful family. I hated to leave it all behind. But I wasn't going to beg to belong to something that was so far out of my reach.

  I pasted a cheery smile on my face and straightened my bag on my shoulder. "Well, I'll just let you guys get on with your plans. In the meantime, I have a research paper that's due on Monday." With those words hanging on the air, I spun on my heel and hurried to the front door. As it clicked behind me, I ran for the car.

  Reason must have jumped over the deck railing because he was suddenly standing between me and my vehicle, his tall figure like a dark shadow in the gathering twilight.

  "Get out of my way," I growled, brushing him aside as I made for the driver's door.

  He clamped a hand on my arm and whipped me around.

  I burned a look down at his fingers. "Unless you plan to tie me up, you'd better let me go," I warned him.

  "You can't leave without me."

  "Don't be an ass," I shouted. "I'm not going to tell anyone about you. Believe it or not, I'm not that sort of person. I'm not that mean or vindictive. I know how dangerous it would be for you and your pack if people found out about you!"

  Despite my angry outburst, Reason didn't budge an inch. He glared down at me. "If you insist on leaving, I'm going with you."

  I tore away from him and backed toward the Rabbit. "Only if you can get in the car before I gun it down to the road."

  He had one foot inside the car and one on the ground as I started backing up. He didn't get the door closed until I was halfway down the driveway. And we didn't talk for the first thirty or forty miles.

  He was the first to break the tense silence. "Why are you so mad?" he gritted.

  "What tells you I'm mad?" I asked snidely. "Your amazing gargoyle instincts?"

  "Nay," he muttered and lifted a finger toward my hands. "It has more to do with your grip on the steering wheel. Your knuckles are white."

  I wished I had a car with a manual transmission so that I could slam it into gear and peel off down the highway. But my Rabbit didn't even have an overdrive button to push. "What about you? Why are you mad?" I asked snottily. "And my human instincts tell me you are, in case you're interested."

  "Interested?" he exploded. "Believe me, I'm interested, Elaina. I've been interested in you since day one."

  "Day one?" I snorted and glanced at him long enough to give him a withering look. "Day one being the first time I saw you beside the pool at Hamilton's mansion?"

  "That's right," he shot back.

  "Big deal," I said. So, he was interested in me. I was interested in great white sharks. That didn't mean I liked them.

  Back in Boulder again, I parked the Rabbit across the road from my apartment, shoved my keys in my pocket and slammed out of the car. Headlights beamed down the street, warning of an approaching vehicle so I waited for the dark SUV to pass before I stomped up the stairs, ignoring the biting sting beneath my knee.

  Reason caught the door before it could hit him in the face, banging it behind him and slowly backing me across the room. He was clearly pissed and I was breathing fire, a dangerous mixture if you ask me. My spine touched the wall beside the plywood-covered window frame and he kept on coming. When he reached me, he caught my wrists, pinning them above my head as he crushed me against the wall.

  "Leave me alone," I sliced up at him, trying to keep my voice low so it wouldn't be heard downstairs. I didn't want Levi busting in on our little domestic.

  But Reason's grip on me just clamped down harder, a fine tremor running through his rigid frame while a muscle pulsed in his temple. He was holding me tight as hell but not quite hard enough to hurt. His eyes blazed down on me in a mixture of anger…and pain. "I can't believe you didn't tell me. I can't believe you went through all that without me. That you were hurt." His voice cracked a bit on the last word.

  His blue gaze turned fierce again for several hot seconds, then softened. He was looking at me like he was gloppin me. Maybe even gloppindop. And for a moment—against all odds—it looked like kissing was back on the books again. Which would probably have been pretty earth shattering. But
we were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. With a low groan, Reason separated his frame from mine, letting my arms fall to my sides.

  I grabbed a few panting breaths and questioned him with my eyes, wanting to know if his gargoyle senses told him what kind of person was on the other side of the door.

  "One good. One basic jerk," he growled, his face creasing in distaste.

  "Donovan and Simpson?" I whispered. "What would they want with us?"

  "There's only one way to find out," he rumbled, and headed for the door.

  The federal agents acted way officious, right from the start. The first thing they did was flash their badges…like we'd never seen them before. That was the first sign that we might be in trouble. The second sign was the way Simpson behaved; he avoided eye contact and hung back like he was uncomfortable with the whole situation. I got the uneasy feeling that Reason was in some kind of danger. Instinctively, I reached for him, my fingers locking in the soft leather of his jacket.

  "What happened to the window?" Donovan asked. A sneer curled his upper lip.

  Reason caught my eye and drawled, "I have anger management issues."

  A muscle twitched beneath Donovan's eye; I don't think he has much of a sense of humor. Getting officious again, he asked for our IDs so I let go of Reason's jacket and reached into my messenger bag, digging out my wallet with my driver's license. I ignored Donovan's outstretched hand and shoved the license at Simpson.

  He glanced down at it and handed it back. "Thank you, Miss Sandoval," he said with his eyes firmly fixed on the floor.

  "What about you?" Donovan growled, targeting Reason with a blunt stare. "Where's your license?"

  "I don't drive," Reason told them. His muscles strained against the sleeves of his jacket as he crossed his arms over his chest. The gesture looked more defiant than defensive.

  "Then we'll need to see your passport," Donovan insisted in a growl.