Into the Paranormal World: Sometimes going against family leads to better rewards than sticking with them.
After seventeen years in captivity, Caladon O’Hara is freed from his cage by gargoyles. His rescuers take him to their manor, give him a safe place to recuperate, and set him up with a new identity, Caladon Wykert. They also aid Caladon in tracking down information about his son, Taolma. Upon seeing a picture of his son’s face after so long, Caladon goes into mild shock, overwhelmed at seeing him as an adult for the first time.
Nurse Leroy Wilde works part time at the gargoyle’s mansion. He handles daytime shifts since Perseus, the clutch’s head doctor, has not yet mated and turns into stone during daylight hours. When he spots Caladon through a doorway, he’s quickly smitten by the tall, handsome shifter. Still, Leroy keeps his distance. He’d tried dating an African American once before, and due to his family’s bigotry, it hadn’t turned out so well.
When Caladon suffers a shock, Leroy is called to help. His mere presence yanks Caladon out of his stupor, only for the shifter to declare they are mates. Leroy is unable to resist the siren call of the mate-pull, and he agrees to a date. He quickly discovers that his family isn’t the only complication…because at the time of Caladon’s kidnapping, he was still married. Mates or not, Leroy refuses to get involved with a married man.
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Accepting Caladon’s Scales
Copyright © 2014 Charlie Richards
ISBN: 978-1-4874-0013-2
Cover art by Scott Carpenter
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Accepting Caladon’s Scales
A Paranormal’s Love: Book Nine
By
Charlie Richards
Dedication
To my patient readers…may the muse always keep up with your demands.
Chapter One
Caladon Wykert reveled in the warmth of the sun soaking into his scales. After spending nearly seventeen years caged in one cell or another, nearly all of them either dimly lit or lighted by fake, ambient heat lamps, this felt amazing. The massive arboretum, with its three story windows and curved glass, caught the sunlight just right. That made for a fantastic retreat for a shifter like him, who shared his spirit with a boa constrictor.
Add in the fact that the space was near the back of a massive gargoyle mansion, and Caladon couldn’t be safer. Still, that didn’t explain the odd buzz in the back of his mind, as if he should be somewhere else…or maybe he did understand that, too. His captors had held him as an attraction in one curiosity show after another for almost two decades. Then, after all that time, a clutch of gargoyles had rescued him, stumbling across him when looking for another missing shifter.
Where the fuck is my family?
Caladon thought about his human wife and young son…well, Taolma had been young at the time of his kidnapping. His little boy had been just two years old when strangers had captured Caladon and shipped him to the United States. For the first couple of years, Caladon had searched for escape, all the while harboring the hope that someone from his pod would rescue him.
Snakes didn’t have packs like other shifters. They formed a loose circle of friends and family, a pod, which watched each other’s backs and helped in times of need. So, what did that say about his friends and family? Had something happened to them?
While Caladon had never loved Gloria, he knew she wouldn’t have purposefully turned her back on him. He had found an uncanny friendship with the human female. She’d stumbled across him in snake form when she’d been fifteen. With his size, she’d freaked the fuck out, and had run off screaming. Caladon had had to move fast to shift, catch her, and calm her down.
Once Gloria had accepted that Caladon wasn’t going to hurt her—or eat her—she’d thought him fascinating. He’d spent hours answering her questions, and they’d been friends ever since. Over the years, Gloria had had a slew of lousy boyfriends, and when her biological clock had started ticking loud and long at the age of thirty-eight, she’d asked for his help. Caladon had been alone for a long time, and the idea of a child had appealed to him. He’d warned her that the child would be a shifter, and that she wasn’t his true mate, but she didn’t mind either of those things.
They’d married and created Taolma. Seeing his son born into the world had been the happiest day of his life. Caladon’s memories of his days with Gloria, their time as just friends as well as the short couple of years they’d had as a couple, combined with those of his son, had been the only things to keep him sane most days.
The not knowing was the toughest. While he’d accepted Maelgwn’s offer to use the gargoyle clutch’s computers, he’d been unsuccessful in locating his family. Instead, he’d discovered one death certificate for Dewain Qadri, his long-time best friend. He knew it was possible the man hadn’t actually died, but had reached a point where he needed to form a new identity, but either way, it left Caladon with the problem of not knowing where to look next.
Mild vibrations danced across Caladon’s sensitive skin. Lifting his head, Caladon flicked his tongue out a couple of times, scenting the air. He recognized the mild musk floating upon the slight currents of air. Doubling back over himself on the thick limb, he made his way toward the tree’s trunk. Once he reached it, he slithered down to the next nearest limb, curled around it, then the next.
Soon, Caladon reached a thick limb about ten feet above the ground. He moved along it and came to a stop overhanging a small glen-like area, complete with a two-tiered fountain and a couple of stone benches.
The gargoyle Sapian stood in the clearing. He spun slowly and peered up at him, his smile widening. The grinning male showed off long canines in his mottled golden hide. As a mated gargoyle, the clutch enforcer had a choice of what form he wanted to take, natural or human-skin, during the daytime. Gargoyles that weren’t yet lucky enough to have found their mate turned to stone during the day. It made the massive mansion a quiet place during daylight hours.
“Good afternoon, Caladon,” Sapian greeted. “Up enjoying the sun, I see.”
If Caladon had been able to smile in snake form, he would have. The gargoyle’s happiness seemed almost contagious. However, since he couldn’t communicate as a serpent, Caladon initiated his shift. His long form shortened and thickened. Arms and legs grew and his head reshaped.
Caladon’s skin scraped along the rough bark of the tree, no longer protected by his scales. In a move he’d perfected decades before, he turned on the branch, gripped it with his hands, and swung forward. Caladon flipped over and off the limb, landing lightly on the balls of his feet on the dirt ground
at the edge of the clearing.
Slowly, Caladon straightened to his nearly seven-foot height. His kind was often tall and slender, due to sharing a spirit with something so long and skinny. He wasn’t any different. Over the past couple of weeks of living with the gargoyles, Caladon had used the trees as his own personal jungle gym, rebuilding the muscle tone he’d lost while being stagnant in captivity.
Caladon’s muscles now appeared well defined in his arms and legs, and his pecs and abs felt hard as stone to the touch. He ought to know. After being stuck in snake form for so long, he’d taken himself in hand many times. It helped that few cared if he actually left the arboretum very often. He could do whatever the hell he wanted, and working out reduced stress as he struggled to decide what he wanted to do with his life.
“What can I do for you, Sapian?” Caladon asked slowly, making certain his English words came out clear and concise. He’d known the basics of the language from trading with vacationers visiting his island. Listening to those around him speak while he’d been in captivity had allowed him to greatly expand his vocabulary. Speaking it, though, that took a bit more concentration.
Sapian held up his hands, revealing sweats in one hand and a loincloth in the other. “Raymond had a hit on your old name last night. It took him a while, but he discovered someone in the Florida Keys has access to your accounts.” He raised and lowered each hand, obviously indicating Caladon should choose. “Take your pick and I’ll show you to his office.”
Trailing his gaze slowly down Caladon’s form, Sapian gave him a cheeky smile. “Not that there aren’t plenty of gargoyles that wouldn’t enjoy the view,” he added, smirking.
Snorting at the gargoyle’s antics, Caladon rubbed his hand over his bare chest. “Not bad after seventeen years of living on rats and frogs, hmm?”
Tossing his head back, Sapian guffawed. “Damn, that’s terrible, man.”
His laughter sounded through the arboretum, booming and pleasant, echoing in the large space. Caladon couldn’t have stopped his grin if he’d tried, and he waved at Sapian as he turned away. “Not how I had planned to spend my time, that is for certain,” he admitted. “Put those away,” he added. “I have my own.”
Caladon strode between trees and amongst the foliage. Once he located the tree he wanted, he reached into the hollowed hole. He flapped his hand around a bit, then located the fabric and pulled out his sweats. After shaking them out, Caladon pulled them on and up, leaving them to hang low on his slim hips.
Returning to the clearing, Caladon found Sapian leaning against a tree. Sapian had crossed his arms over his mottled hided chest, his white wings draped over his shoulders like a cloak, and he wore a contemplative expression. He’d tossed the sweats over the shoulder not against the tree and the extra loincloth was clutched in the clawed hand closest to his chest.
Eyeing Caladon speculatively, Sapian’s brow ridges creased. Caladon lifted his own brow, curious what was on the gargoyle’s mind. Sapian didn’t leave him wondering long. “You’re a bit of a mystery to us, Caladon,” Sapian admitted. “Staying in here all day.” He frowned, then waved toward his lean form. “With what you’ve been fed over the years, I’d think you’d practically live in the dining hall. You are getting your fill, right?” he asked, his concern evident.
Caladon shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. “I do not hide out in here all day.” Hiding his unease, he winked as he turned away and called over his shoulder, “Just most of the day. Let us go see what Raymond found.”
Sapian fell into step beside him and glanced his way. He swiped his tongue over his lips, then stated, “I apologize for making you uneasy, Caladon.” He looked his way and added, “We gargoyles are a curious lot. You wouldn’t believe the trouble a few of our members got into during the Dark Ages.”
Appreciating the gargoyle enforcer’s ability to apologize and lighten the mood at the same time, Caladon grinned. “I can only imagine. We snakes prefer to hide. It is why you only hear rumors of massive snakes leaking from the Amazon and proof is so hard to come by.” His words brought back his own predicament. “Well, mostly.”
Clamping him on the shoulder, Sapian shook him once before releasing him and saying, “We’ll figure this out, Caladon. Have no fear. We have some great hackers here. Between Raymond and Vane, we’ll find your—” He paused and frowned. “What do you call a group of snakes?” Just as quickly, his expression spread into a wide smile. “A mating ball?”
Caladon grimaced. “That was terrible,” he muttered, shaking his head. In the wild, when female snakes were ready to mate, they released pheromones that attracted male snakes. The males would writhe around the female, forming one big ball of coils, as they struggled to be the male that mated with the female. “And no,” he added, probably a bit too emphatically based on the snicker that escaped his companion.
“Awe, couldn’t help it,” Sapian responded, clearly amused. “So, what do you call your group, then?”
“A pod,” Caladon revealed. “And we do not actually have packs or clutches like you are thinking.”
“No?”
Caladon shrugged. “Our snakes make us somewhat territorial,” he admitted. Only the fact that no other snake shifters occupied the arboretum with him kept his snake happy in the large space.
Hell, what snake wouldn’t be happy in a three-story jungle with, essentially, an unlimited food supply. All Caladon had to do was enjoy the squirrels that nested in the trees. He’d found where they entered and exited through a cracked window at the base of the south wall. Caladon had even enjoyed one of the tasty buggers, but mostly he shifted to human form and made his way to the dining hall. The gargoyle’s extensive menu of ribs, steaks, potato casseroles, and pasta dishes were hard to pass up, especially considering what he’d dined on in the past.
Shaking his head at his musings as if that alone could clear away his thoughts, Caladon explained, “We share activities with our immediate family and a few good friends.” He walked through the arboretum doorway after Sapian and began following him down one hallway after another as he spoke. “There are normally a couple of dominant shifters in the area that get together and act as kind of a mini council. They discuss issues when friends cannot solve the problem between themselves. They also come together and host meetings when a situation runs the risk of exposing the secret of shifters.”
Sapian paused in the hallway, his hand reaching out and resting on a doorknob. His brows ridges were drawn and when he spoke, his tone sounded concerned. “I’d have thought the news that poachers were in the jungle catching big snakes would have been something the council guys passed on to everyone.”
“You would have thought,” Caladon grumbled. That very idea had popped into his head more than once. They’d had a pair of brothers move into their area, seeking asylum for something, but Caladon hadn’t heard what. After they’d met with Azacca and Talin, they’d been given a small section of jungle to live in, and Caladon—wrapped up in caring for his young son—hadn’t given them a second thought. That had been six months before his capture.
Could they have had something to do with it?
“Come on,” Sapian urged.
Pulled back from his thoughts, Caladon followed him into a small office. He figured he ought to get used to interacting again, having spent far too long stuck in his head. Caladon focused on the slender black man behind the desk.
Raymond smiled up at him. “Hey, Caladon. Good to see you again. Hope Sapian and I weren’t interrupting anything.”
Returning the gargoyle’s smile, Caladon settled into the chair Sapian indicated. “Not at all, Raymond,” he responded. “I had planned to find out if you had time to see me today anyway, so this works out well.”
Having met Raymond once before when the gargoyle taught him the basics of their computer systems, which had changed drastically in seventeen years, Caladon knew this was the gargoyle in human form. This mated gargoyle was small in stature and had a black mot
tled hide in his true form.
Instead of wings out of his back, joining with a gargoyle’s shoulder blades like the larger creatures, Raymond had them attached from the bottom of his arms to his sides. Raymond had explained that he could control the bones—what he called wing spurs—that jutted out from his sides and stretched his wingskins away from his body when he wished to fly.
As a ground-bound shifter, Caladon found it fascinating. Of course, getting out of his cage, Caladon found any opportunity to learn something new after so long interesting.
“You were?” Raymond seemed pleased. “What can I help you with?”
Caladon smiled. That seemed to be the gargoyle’s purpose in life, to please others. He opened his mouth to answer, but Sapian held up his hand and stated, “Let’s get the problem of someone checking on Caladon’s accounts out of the way, first, okay?” He gave Caladon a smile. “Sorry, I need to report this to Maelgwn once we’re done.”
Raymond nodded. “Right, sorry.” He gripped one thin monitor and spun it around on its stand. Then, using his mouse, he began pointing at things. “This is your account. While you were captive, someone deposited one hundred dollars every month to keep it active. Then, in December of last year, someone started pulling money back out. I’ve accessed the video surveillance of an ATM and have a visual. Take a look.”
Turning his attention to the scene playing out on the screen, Caladon watched a dark-skinned male wearing a gray t-shirt and a ball cap appear. The man reached out and inserted a card into the machine. The guy looked up, as if reading something on the screen, giving Caladon a clear view of the man’s face.
Caladon’s jaw sagged open. He felt the blood drain from his face. “N-No! It is not possible,” he whispered.
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