Stone Guard

by Emma Alisyn

  A female’s face swirled to the front of his mind, dusky with full lips and serious, wide eyes. Bea. He’d seen her shop in Veda’s market stalls several times, though he’d never approached her. A bit of a mouth on her when he and some others came to visit Malin at his offices. She probably thought he hadn’t noticed—the others were too dense to notice since it didn’t occur to them that a human female in Malin’s employ would ever be deliberately disrespectful. But recalling her wary look whenever they met gazes in the Garden, and the way she shied when he begun to approach, she was probably well aware that he was aware. Niko’s lips curled before he remembered himself.

  “Keeps us in line,” Surah muttered, and it took Niko a second to recall the conversation.

  “You’re seeking a bride, Sir Nikolau?” Sililu asked. She was the only one who ever used his technical title, which as a palace guard he was entitled to. Always correct, always formal.

  “I haven’t decided.”

  “I’d be happy to make some discreet inquiries when you’re ready. We can sit down and discuss your requirements. Finding a wife shouldn't be a stressful endeavor for a male of your level of responsibility.”

  She was serious, too, and not mocking. He nodded at her, and stepped out onto the balcony, launching into flight.

  2

  “Dammit," Bea said, then grimaced; she didn't like swearing even if no one heard it.

  She looked at the brown box product listing in front of her. Each one of the items listed were fresh produce that her daughter Aeezah loved. That was the problem. On one hand, Bea was grateful that her daughter loved vegetables. It made her feel good thinking that as a single mom, she was raising her daughter right. But on the other hand, those same fresh vegetables were expensive and could now easily blow her weekly grocery budget out of the water. The grocery budget that she knew she had to cut at least in half starting that very day.

  "Is there something in the box Aeezah doesn't like?" Veda asked her, the owner of the greenhouse where Bea picked up her co-op box.

  She shook her head and turned her back to the box. "We’re having dinner with friends one night, and Aeezah has a recital, too, so I know I won’t be cooking that night. I'd hate to have any of it go to waste." It should have surprised her how smoothly the lies rolled off her lips.

  "Oh," Veda said. She looked surprised, probably because it was the first time that Bea had ever mentioned not eating at home. She and Veda had become casual friends over the few weeks since Veda opened her neighborhood produce stand, converting a small abandoned warehouse near a market district. They’d joked in the past about their mutual homebody tendencies. Plus, it wasn't as if Bea had any close friends or relatives in the city. Often, it was just her and Aeezah every day all day. If Bea didn't have a full-time job, her adult interactions would be next to nothing.

  "I mean, all of this looks really good." The last thing Bea wanted was for Veda to think that her produce wasn't as fresh as she always promised. She chewed on her lower lip, calculating her adjusted daily budget for groceries. The reason for the adjustment had arrived in the form of a letter from her townhome’s mortgage holder that morning.

  Bea had been doing her best to pay down her mortgage as quickly as possible. Doing so stretched her already tight budget, but she considered it a wise financial move. Ever since the divorce, she prided herself on her ability to make those kinds of decisions. Her ex, Ben, hadn’t ever let her participate in any of the financial matters. Now, she had no idea what she was going to do, except work more and cut expenses to the bone.

  "Well, I can split the box if you want. I'm sure there's someone else who would take the other half," Veda said. “Business has been slow anyway.”

  Bea appreciated her flexibility more than Veda could ever imagine. She visualized this week’s menu plan as she looked at the full box of vegetables. A shadow fell across her shoulder, and she looked around to see who was behind her. Her stomach clenched.

  "What's going on?" Niko asked in his cool, stern voice, the question directed at Veda. Bea had figured out in the several brief interactions with Niko at the greenhouse, and Prince Malin’s offices, that he had little patience for humans. Of course, that wasn’t just Niko, but most gargoyles in general.

  "The boxes for the week are selling slow,” Veda said. "Supporting local farmers and setting up the co-op program was the best idea that you've had yet, but my non wholesale customers aren’t re-shopping at a high enough rate.”

  She wanted to tell Veda that as high quality as the produce was, it was obvious it wasn’t set up for individual households. She watched enviously as Niko slung an arm around his sister’s shoulders. She didn’t have siblings, and her life lacked the obvious affection between the two.

  "What are you charging?” Niko asked.

  Veda handed him the pricing sheet; a copy of which was still in Bea’s hands at that very moment. She used actual paper, not the thin digital reusable tablets so popular these days.

  Niko looked at the prices and frowned, glancing at Bea. “What do you think of these prices?”

  When he looked at her, it was hard for her to look away. Dark, long lashed eyes held hers and Bea reminded herself that it wasn’t flirting—he was just a direct personality. She hesitated, and knew better than to lie under his steady regard. He was friends with Prince Malin, and she didn’t need him telling her employer she was a liar. And she didn’t want him to think less of her. Besides, as Prince Malin’s personal assistant, it was her job to give her opinion.

  “They’re a little pricey. You’re going to price out a portion of your retail customer base if you’re focusing on restaurants and food service.” She lowered her eyes, tensing a bit when he shifted, as if trying to get her attention again. As if he’d ever lost it.

  Veda frowned, head tilting. “What do you suggest? I don’t want to undercharge the restaurants.”

  “Sliding scale," Bea said, and trotted away for a moment, returning with a cheap ink pen from Veda’s stash at the checkout counter. “Here.” She marked up the sheet, then glanced at Niko, who hadn’t stopped watching her. “Do these rates look fair to you?” She handed him the paper, and as he took it, his fingers brushed hers. He read over the sheet and there was no indication the small touch was on purpose.

  The price of the box that was Bea’s usual purchase was now marked down fifteen percent, closer to rates for organic produce in a big box grocer. "Yes, I think they look fair," he said.

  Veda looked at the prices and sighed. “I’ll try it. Might as well print up some flyers and see if I can drum up business.” She walked away from the counter, coming back with a second box. “Here, buy one get one this week. I might as well go for broke.”

  Bea blinked rapidly. She knew better than to throw a gargoyle’s gesture of goodwill back in the face, but… “Look, tell me how I can help you. I know startups take a lot of time and cash, and you’re doing a great thing for this neighborhood with the fresh produce.”

  “Free labor?” Niko said. “That would be helpful.”

  Veda threw an annoyed look at her brother. “That’s not necessary.”

  “You just gave her a free box. She rightfully feels indebted to you. Be quiet, Veda, and take the help. If there is a human here, then you might get more business.”

  It was true. Despite being in human form, Veda was still very…other. Some customers might stay away from fear or prejudice, but would shop there if there was a human to deal with.

  “Do you agree?” he asked Bea, turning the intensity of his full attention on her. Bea wondered what it would be like if she was an enemy, or a lover. Usually when he checked in on Veda and Bea was present, he ignored her. But now he looked at her as if he’d been aware of her presence all along. She was glad she was too old to blush. He was a handsome male, and…strong. Calm. Protective of Veda in a way that made Bea bitterly aware of the deficiencies in her prior marriage.

  “I agree,” she said. “I think my presence would help with community relat
ions.”

  “Good. You’ll be here Saturday.” He glanced at Bea, then left the greenhouse. She sighed, despite her flash of annoyance. It hadn’t been a question or a request. But he meant well, no matter how high-handed he was.

  Veda stared at her brother thoughtfully. “You know, that’s high praise coming from my brother.”

  “How so?”

  “He’s trusting you to help me. He treats most humans like potential enemies, but he doesn’t see you that way. Interesting.”

  Thirty minutes into her block of volunteer time that Saturday, Bea heard a commotion near the front of the greenhouse. She’d spent a brisk hour passing out flyers at a nearby crafter’s market, talking to mothers and other potential customers about the co-op produce program before returning to help with a subtle uptick in business. Veda stayed behind the counter, dealing mostly with stock and merchandising, occasionally joining Bea in a conversation. It was a good strategy; it gave the humans a chance to get used to the gargoyle female with Bea’s presence as a buffer.

  Veda had left for a quick lunch break, honoring Bea with her trust. She knew enough about gargoyles–from her time working for Prince Malin–to know that Veda leaving her alone in her territory was a huge compliment. Bea stiffened when she realized the new arrivals were all gargoyles.

  She didn’t dislike gargoyles—in fact, she was one of the few humans who had an inside knowledge on how to handle the various castes in their society, notably, the warrior caste. Prince Malin had personally seen to her training when she became his personal assistant, and she was good at her job. But she understood the night shifters, especially the males. They were a territorial, suspicious, aggressive species with more temper than was necessary. Even Veda, with a half-human mother, sometimes struggled with the concept of the customer always being right. A gargoyle shopkeeper was just as likely to throw a customer out of the store than solve an issue.

  This new group looked liked trouble, even in daytime human form. Thunder rumbled outside, explaining why they were out—the cover of storm clouds would provide some protection from sunlight lethargy. Boisterous, the lead male looked around as if he owned the place. Tall, with a square face and short-cut hair, he spotted Bea and frowned. “Human, where is my daughter?”

  She assumed he meant Veda, but she didn’t like his tone. “I don’t know who your daughter is, sir.”

  He scowled. “Veda, the owner. You’re an employee, correct? You should know who your superior’s kin are.”

  That hadn’t been in the employee handbook. But wait—she wasn’t an employee. “I’m a volunteer, sir. Veda stepped out to lunch, if you’d like to—”

  He turned away, dismissing her, the males at his side joking about Veda being too poor to hire quality help. “My family is not poor,” he snapped. “It shows savvy business sense to command the aid of labor for free.”

  “You’re generous to allow her to work at all in the city,” one of them remarked. “She’s unwed. Aren’t you afraid the humans will influence her?”

  “My daughter has good sense, and knows her place,” the father replied stiffly. “And there’s nothing wrong with a female grocer. That’s a good quality in a wife, growing food for the family table.”

  “That’s true,” was the thoughtful reply. “I suppose it could be worse.”

  “Have you heard there are three new applications for warrior training from females? At least selling vegetables is a female’s occupation.”

  Bea suppressed a sigh. She’d heard worse from guests of Prince Malin. Office work was an even more inappropriate occupation for a female according to some of the older ones. Even human females.

  One of his companions wandered over to a vegetable box, picking up a carrot. “It’s dirty. Why is there dirt all over it?”

  “It’s farm fresh produce, sir,” Bea responded, though she knew she should just walk away. “The dirt means it’s out of the ground. That’s where vegetables grow. In the ground.”

  The male dropped the carrot and glowered at her. “I know where plants grow, human. I’m not stupid.”

  She opened her mouth, shut it, and shrugged, then spent the next several minutes tending to a real customer, hoping that if she ignored the pests, they would go away. When she turned back to the gargoyles, the father was loading boxes of produce into his friends’ hands. Bea rushed over.

  “Can I help you with your purchase?” she asked, keeping her voice low and her eyes lowered.

  “Tell Veda we were here,” the father said dismissively.

  “Sir, you have to pay for the produce. I can’t let you take it.”

  He stopped, turned to her with an incredulous expression. “What did you say to me?”

  “You can’t steal Veda’s product,” Bea snapped. “If you walk out of here with that, after I alert the authorities, I’ll call Sir Nikolau.”

  His face darkened. “What do you have to do with my son?”

  “Nothing. But, whenever he wants something, he pays for it. He must get his character from his mother.”

  Silence. Then one of the males said, “Arthur, did the human just insult you?”

  Arthur—an ironic name for a male she suspected was a bully—stepped forward, crowding Bea’s space. She locked her knees, anger rising in her throat. Even if he beat her, she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of stealing from his own daughter, a woman who had been kind to her, without consequences. If he assaulted her, he’d be prosecuted for that as well as the theft. It would serve him right. Occupations suitable for females, her big, round ass.

  “Apologize,” he said to her, voice low and cold. “I don’t accept insults from any warrior, I won’t take them from a nobody human female.”

  She stood her ground. “I have nothing to apologize for. Veda left me to guard her shop, and that’s what I’m doing. You can either pay for the product, or I can call the authorities.” Her eyes narrowed, and she smiled nastily. “Or I can call Prince Malin. I have his personal cell on speed dial.”

  “I’d listen to her, Father,” Niko’s cool, relaxed voice said. Bea glanced over as he and Veda strode into the greenhouse, Veda frowning as she assessed the situation. “Father, you didn’t tell me you were bringing customers today,” she said.

  “Get rid of this human,” Arthur demanded. “She’s insulted me, and she’s a liar.”

  Niko raked Bea with a single, brief glance then turned toward his father. “And you were going to teach her a lesson about honesty, right?” Niko asked, lip curling in a half smile. “Which would have been a colossal mistake as she is under the personal protection of Prince Malin.”

  One of the others exclaimed. “I hadn’t heard the Prince had a human concubine.”

  “I’m his assistant,” Bea said. “You should be ashamed for insulting Prince Malin, he’s honorable and loyal to the Princess.”

  Niko chuckled, though there was a glint in his eyes that told Bea something had upset him. “Go away, father. The females have work to do.”

  “Bea can ring you up for those boxes,” Veda said pointedly.

  Niko turned to Bea after the males left. “I thought Malin trained you how to handle warriors.”

  “He did,” she said, then inhaled, wrestling her temper under control. “Your father isn’t very nice. He got under my skin.”

  “You’ve made an enemy. I’ll have to tell Malin, so he can refresh your training.”

  “Father is an ass, and he was showing off,” Veda said sourly “I’m surprised she managed to remain even partially civil.”

  Bea sighed. “I know better, though. Gargoyle men are the touchiest—” she stopped, chagrined when Veda laughed.

  Niko’s brow rose. “I’ll see he adds a self-defense class to your work duties as well. You’re going to need it.”

  Veda lifted a hand. “I can teach her some things tonight.” A slow, predatory smile spread across her lips. “I’d be more than happy to.”

  “Oh, God,” Bea said. “I’m in for it.”

&nbs
p; But warmth spread through her chest, and for a moment she felt like a part of their family.

  3

  He made sure Veda and the human woman were settled then flew to the tower palace as soon as the sun set. Irritation added speed to his flight, a desire to put his father in his place bubbling over. It wasn’t just how the male treated the human, or Veda. It wasn’t even how his father treated his mother. It was just that Arthur was an utter, unmitigated asshole and had never had the shit beat out of him. He was overdue, and Niko was done playing possum to keep the peace. Arthur needed his attitude towards females checked, and hard. There was no reason to harass any woman, especially one as vulnerable as Bea.

  Bea didn’t deserve it. He’d watched her over the weeks, observed the quiet, warm humor and courtesy with which she interacted with Veda. She handled her daughter with a gentle, but firm maternal skill that reminded him of his own mother. He knew she didn’t have a male, that she raised her daughter alone. He appreciated that kind of feminine strength, why did his father have to try and stomp all over it?

  His ire was especially edged because in the last few weeks he’d noticed a strengthening of interest besides the casual, a hunting instinct slowly rising to the surface whenever he was near her. If Surah was too much the shrew tongued warrior, and Lady Sililu too courtly, Bea—human Bea—was almost a blend of the two. Strength and warmth, kindness and hidden steel. Plus her human beauty intrigued him. Dark curls and dusky skin similar to the traditional coloring of his own people, though she was shorter, curves fuller. The kind of curves he’d begun to imagine filling his hands.

  The guards were in the training yard when he landed. Everyone worked in rotation; three evenings on duty, the fourth in training. Even though they hadn’t fought a clan war in decades, the Prince still kept his males in top condition, and himself as well. There was regular security to handle, and the occasional death threats or concerns from rival clans. Sometimes they were loaned out to other Princes, in different holds, in return for favors later on. And truth be told, if Geza didn’t employ them all, what else would they do? They were warriors, trained to fight, to protect. Niko supposed they could all get jobs in security in other sectors, but most of them were uncomfortable in human culture, and few gargoyles could tolerate full daylight well for more than an hour or two at a time. At least in Seattle, the horrid sun was mostly covered in clouds during the day.