Primal Pleasure: Pendragon Gargoyles, Book 3

by Sydney Somers

  “Tell me something, gargoyle.”

  Cian shuddered in anticipation of Elena’s next question. According to the sorceress, she had a tendency to ramble when she was starving, and judging by the fact that she’d barely stopped talking long enough to breathe, she could eat at least five times her weight in Big Macs.

  As with every question before—half of which he hadn’t understood because she either talked too quickly or used words that didn’t mean what he thought they did—Elena didn’t wait for him to acknowledge her before continuing.

  “Are all gargoyles as brain-dead as you, or did my sister just draw the short straw?”

  “What?” He turned from the cell door, thinking he’d suffer less pain ramming his head against it than dealing with Emma’s sister.

  They might look alike, but as far as he could tell, that’s where the similarities ended.

  “Why didn’t you tell Emma the truth before you let Gareth waltz her right out of the cell?”

  “And have her feel even more responsible for what happens to me? She needs to stay focused on the sorcerer, not wonder what’s going on down here.”

  “You do realize if you had told her the truth, she’d at least think twice about sacrificing a future with you. What does she have to lose by accepting Gareth if she believes you’ll never feel the same way about her?”

  Well, fuck.

  “Going by the light-bulb moment you look to be having, I’m going to venture that you didn’t think that far ahead, huh?”

  He shook his head, a little distracted by what a light bulb had to do with anything.

  “Gargoyles.” Elena sighed. “Too busy following their damn instincts to stop and think for a minute.”

  “You accuse me of not thinking things through when you have a fondness for finding trouble.”

  “So an hour in a cell together and you think you know me now, is that it?”

  “Emma certainly seems to.”

  Elena turned away. “Sometimes my sister sees exactly what she wants to.”

  “So you don’t regularly drag her into trouble?”

  “Of course I do. But it’s not because I need help.” She gestured to her body, her tracings. “I’m quite capable actually.”

  “So why involve her?”

  “It used to be her involving me when we were young. I was the one who had to smooth things over with our father, and then when she vanished for a few days, everything changed. Her magic slowed down while mine continued to grow. I was afraid that if I gave her time to dwell on that, on how little power she had for a sorceress, she’d feel sorry for herself instead of focusing on her strengths. Don’t tell Emma I said this, but magic isn’t everything.”

  Vulnerability blinked across her face, so briefly he might have imagined it.

  “And I meant what I said earlier,” she added. “It’s the only fun she has.” She eyed their surroundings before adding, “Most of the time. But just for the record, I didn’t have anything to do with the Gareth situation.”

  “Your father,” he guessed, assuming Emma hadn’t been the one to take steps for an alliance.

  Elena nodded. “He’s been hard on her, and as much I hated that, I think he was worried she’d end up a victim if he didn’t take steps to protect her. Though technically speaking, if you hadn’t used these on Emma—” she shook her wrists, “—Urien wouldn’t have had a prayer of stopping me from kicking his ass in Vegas.”

  “Sorry to have inconvenienced you,” he drawled. “Give it another hundred years and we’ll call it even.”

  She grinned. “I think you and I will get along just fine, gargoyle.”

  Something hit the cell door, and they both turned as it swung open.

  He recognized the Fae, Amelina, immediately. “What are you doing here?”

  “Emma needs you.” She approached Elena, and he growled in warning. Both females stared at him.

  The Fae rolled her eyes. “She is the one who cursed you, isn’t she?”

  “She’s also my mate’s sister.” And whether he liked it or not, that meant something.

  “I’m sure once she has the cuff off, she’ll be fine.”

  Elena nodded. “I’m good here. Anyone with such fabulous taste in boots can’t be all bad.”

  Amelina grinned at that, then put her hand over the cuff. “Better get a move on, puss.”

  Lingering only long enough to shift into his cat form, he raced out the door, following Emma’s scent. The few men he passed were already unconscious—Amelina’s work?—but the one in an upstairs hall, where Emma’s scent was the strongest so far, was very much awake.

  Urien.

  He lunged forward, the power in his front limbs taking the Fae to the floor. He snapped his jaws, finding the Fae’s arm instead of his throat, but still tearing through flesh.

  The second the scent of the Fae’s blood hit his nostrils, he bit down harder, crushing bone.

  Urien yelled and kicked him off. Hitting the wall knocked the air from his lungs, but he scrambled right back to his feet. Ready for him this time, Urien vanished before Cian could tackle him a second time, appearing directly behind him.

  The sound of Urien’s sword being ripped from its scabbard gave Cian all the warning he needed. Low to the ground, he circled the Fae, waiting.

  Emma’s scent, laced with fear and anger, assailed him, and he snarled, backtracking down the hall, wanting to get closer to his mate.

  “Not so brave anymore, gargoyle?” Urien smirked.

  Sounds of a struggle drifted from the stairs, but he kept his gaze trained on the Fae. He wouldn’t be much good to his mate with a sword stuck in his side. Urien lunged from the right, and at the last second Cian dodged the other way, colliding with the Fae who had been using a glamour to throw him off.

  Taken by surprise, Urien was slow to get his sword up, and Cian slashed with his claws. Cradling his injured arm to his body, Urien took a step back. Cian prowled forward, then stopped, the scent of his enemy suddenly behind him.

  Another glamour.

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  In front of him, Urien’s image faded, and he turned to find the Fae with his arm back, his sword at the ready, but his gaze locked on Amelina.

  He dropped the sword without hesitation, sweeping into a bow so low he could have licked the floor. “Your Highness.”

  ‘”You will no longer interfere in my family’s affairs. Is that understood?”

  Urien raised his head, his eyes wide. “I had no idea. Of course. I—”

  “If you leave now, I see no reason my mother needs to hear about your treachery.”

  Urien snapped his good arm across his chest, his fist over his heart. “My loyalty is with the Titania. Always.”

  “I’ll be sure to pass that along.”

  Elena caught up with them just as Urien took off down the hall. She smirked. “Should have known he’d high-tail it out of here the second he knew I was free.”

  Next to her, the Fae smiled and Cian recognized the family resemblance at once. Wondering if Emma was as oblivious as Elena appeared to be needed to wait until later.

  He turned, darting up the stairs in search of his mate.

  Emma was still pacing when Gareth strolled into the room. He stopped, seeming puzzled when he saw her father. “Did you need to speak with me, Roan? We can talk outside since Emma needs time to prepare for the ceremony.”

  “There isn’t going to be one.”

  Gareth sighed. “I realize you may be annoyed by my methods, but no harm has come to either of your daughters, and Elena is perfectly fine.”

  “This isn’t about that.”

  Gareth’s gaze turned hostile. “Don’t tell me Emma has confessed to loving the gargoyle, and you are breaking the agreement to indulge her.”

  Her father only shrugged, offering no explanation. “Agreements have been broken for less.”

  “Not at such treacherous times. I know you’ve heard the rumors. The whispers of the gods awa
kening and another Campaign on the horizon. Maybe even this century. You need all the alliances you can get.”

  “Not anymore—”

  That was all he got out before Gareth struck him down with a burst of pure energy that knocked her father across the room.

  “No!”

  Emma lunged forward.

  Gareth raised his palm but didn’t release the energy brewing there. “Where’s the dagger, Emma?”

  She didn’t say anything.

  “I know you have it. I pay my oracle well to keep me informed of circumstances I can take advantage of. Where is it?”

  “It belongs with Rhiannon.”

  Gareth scoffed. “Don’t tell me you’re an Arthur sympathizer? Avalon didn’t stop moving because he died, and there is nothing to be gained by sitting and awaiting a prophecy. Do you really think even the mighty Arthur could prevent another Campaign?” He shook his head as though what she thought ultimately didn’t matter.

  “If you are so convinced I have the dagger, then take it from me.”

  He closed his hand, extinguishing the flame, and stalked toward her.

  She reached behind her, withdrawing the dagger at her back. She closed her eyes, focusing on the magic inside her, on channeling it, and gripped the hilt.

  Nothing.

  No power. No strength. Just an ordinary blade.

  Gareth slammed her up against the wall, curling his fingers around her throat as he ripped the blade out of her hand. “Did you really think you were strong enough to use it?”

  “Use what?”

  His eyes narrowed. “The dagger.”

  “The dagger you think you’re holding?” She smiled, knowing this was probably the most important bluff of her life. “You did notice my tracing earlier. The one with the Fae glyphs.”

  He frowned at her neck.

  “Did my father fail to mention I was half Fae when he struck that agreement? And you do know what Fae are best at, right?”

  Gareth stared at the dagger.

  “Glamours,” she continued, though she knew he’d caught on.

  He shook his head. “I can feel its power.”

  She smirked. “You feel what I want you to feel.”

  The second doubt flashed across his face, she drove her knee up between his legs, then wrenched his wrist back when he curled in on himself, cursing. He dropped the blade, and she kicked it across the floor.

  “Bitch,” he snarled, backhanding her.

  The force behind the blow knocked her to the floor. Blood pooled across her tongue.

  She raised her head just as Cian launched himself through the open door, tackling Gareth. He had the sorcerer pinned before Emma could snap her head around to follow the movement, but Gareth recovered quickly.

  The chair she’d been sitting on earlier shattered from the impact of Gareth’s fireball, the blast knocking Cian across the room.

  Digging her feet in, Emma dove across the floor, her fingers closing around the dagger. Gareth staggered upright, gaze locked on her. Cian growled, but instead of lunging for the sorcerer, he backed up until he was by her side. He nudged her with his head.

  “I suppose that’s no more than a twig?”

  She smiled sweetly at Gareth. “You mean the dagger I lied about?”

  His expression turned homicidal, and she read his intentions a heartbeat before he struck. The hilt of the dagger glowed purple, and fire raced across her palm and up her arm until she cried out. Power slammed through her, literally knocking her off her feet.

  Holy shit.

  She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move—and when she opened her eyes and discovered the four-hundred-pound cat smothering her, she knew why.

  Cian prodded her cheek, his whiskers tickling her skin.

  “I’m okay.”

  After another nuzzle, the sound in his chest was less of a growl and more of a purr. She raised her head, scanning the room for Gareth and finding only her father and…a fluffy white bunny?

  She glanced at the dagger. Seriously? The one Elena used had turned Cian to stone, and she’d reduced Gareth to a fuzzy, pink-eyed herbivore? Seriously?

  Cian finally gave her some breathing room, pausing to lick her first. She laughed and ran her hand over his head before sitting up.

  “Ew.” Elena crossed the room with Leah right on her heels. She took the rabbit from their father. “Em, that was totally badass, minus Peter Cottontail here.”

  “She’s still working out the kinks.” Leah smiled and pulled her to her feet, almost tripping over Cian, who stuck right to Emma’s side. “Told you.” She pulled her into a fierce hug.

  Elena glanced at her father, who hadn’t stopped glaring at Cian in a serious I-eat- gargoyles-who-hurt-my-daughter-for-breakfast way that only a father could pull off.

  “I missed something big, didn’t I?”

  “Colossal actually.”

  She cocked her head, her gaze landing on Leah’s boots. “That’s weird. My boots have almost the same mark on them from this wolf who was looking to nail my friend.”

  Their father made a choking sound. “Wolf?”

  Elena continued to stare at the boots. “He struck out anyway since she’s still hung up on some old flame.”

  Oh boy.

  Leah’s face flushed pink, and she snatched Gareth out of Elena’s arms. “I’ll take care of him.” She bolted out the door.

  “What’s her deal?” Elena sighed, then arched a brow at their father. “Were you just staring at her ass?”

  Cian snorted, butting his head against Emma.

  “I guess I should tell her, huh?”

  “Tell who what?” Elena linked her arm through Emma’s. “You know, I think I hear a blackjack table calling my name. I wonder if Leah’s free.”

  She watched their father dart into the hall. “I think she’s got her hands full with an old flame, actually.”

  Three weeks later

  Emma clicked off the remote and stuffed it down the side of the couch. “We’re done.”

  “Come on, Em.” Cian hovered over her, using his leg to keep her trapped beneath him.

  “It’s been almost six hours. I can’t take any more.” She wiggled out from under him, which was really more of an awkward slide to the floor.

  He leaned down, his nose bumping hers. “Please?”

  “If I watch any more Looney Tunes today, I’ll be dreaming of dropping anvils on your head.”

  “Ouch.” He spanned his fingers across her jaw. “We can’t have that.”

  She closed her eyes, her heart picking up speed even though she knew she had to get up. They’d never make it to the bedroom if they got started here, and the last thing she wanted was one of Cian’s siblings walking in on them.

  With the exception of Briana, they had the place mostly to themselves. Cale and Sorcha never stayed for long when they did return, and Tristan and Kennedy spent the majority of their time at Pendragon’s or in Avalon.

  She and Cian had actually planned on heading to Avalon themselves, but when Cian had found the Looney Toons marathon on television, he’d been quick to suggest waiting another day or two. He was either avoiding her sister, who talked non-stop about the Fae court since discovering their truth about Leah and being royalty, or her father.

  Assuming it was the latter, she’d caved. Although her father was so preoccupied with picking arguments with Leah whenever their paths crossed—which seemed to be a lot these days, thanks to Elena—she doubted he’d be up for giving Cian a hard time anyway.

  “You know what we could have, though? Food.”

  “That’s not exactly the appetite I was hoping to appease at the moment, but if food is what you truly crave—” he opened his mouth over hers, “—then who am I to deny you?”

  “Mmmm,” was about the only response she could put together when he was done kissing the life out of her. She leaned away from that sensational mouth of his before it was responsible for getting her naked.

  He sighed. “I guess that
means I’m cooking.”

  “Assuming you don’t want burnt food.” One set of scorch marks on the ceiling was enough to live down, and that was after they’d only been back two days.

  “I still don’t understand how you can burn—”

  She slapped her hand over his mouth. “Keep talking and it won’t just be in my dreams when I start dropping anvils.”

  Cian laughed and hauled her up, holding her against him.

  Leaning into him, she whispered, “Close your eyes.” And the second he did, she shoved him backward and darted around the couch, heading for the door.

  She heard his feet hit the floor behind her, imagined he’d hopped right over the couch to pursue her. He could have caught her in the hall and they both knew it. Instead, he waited until she skidded around the corner and into the kitchen before he pounced.

  She pivoted and dropped into a crouch, making herself as small a target as possible, the way Sorcha had shown her. Less than two feet away, Cian stopped, but his gaze was locked on something else.

  The patio door opened, and Briana stepped inside. Her posture mirrored Cian’s when she noticed them in the room. The tension in the room jumped a hundred degrees, and Emma glanced between the two.

  Then she glanced outside and saw the sun had risen, and instead of playing gargoyle on the roof, Briana looked like she’d just been caught unwrapping all her Christmas presents while everyone else was asleep.

  “How… When… Who…” Cian stopped. “Who?” he repeated.

  Emma rolled her eyes, grateful she’d never had any protective older brothers. She’d bet Cian was grateful for that to.

  Too bad that didn’t stop him from crossing his arms. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  His sister only shrugged, leaving Emma to fill in the silence. “Why not just shove her under a bright light? We can even play good cop, bad cop.”

  Cian scowled at her, and Briana tried to take advantage of the distraction to retreat back the way she’d come without saying a word.

  “Briana.”

  “Not now, Cian.” She growled and shoved past him when he tried to get between her and the door.

  Cian stared after her, and Emma joined him in time to see Briana’s sleek cat form disappear into the trees.