I was a businessman first and foremost. My business? To save my people. I failed most of the Gargoyles who fought in the last war, but I would not fail those who still lived. Although there were Gargoyles outside of my Clan, they were always welcome in my Clan.
My newest mission?
To save the whole damn world.
I was not a cocky man; I just didn’t believe the world meant the entire Earth. My world was the people who have suffered since the rise of Clans. After they— we—tried to kill our Elder races, the races that kept peace in our world and brought the balance needed for all parts of our lives, our world went into chaos. Paranormals weren’t as dominant as before. We were now disappearing along with the other races. The Gods had turned their backs on us. How could I blame them? We had become monsters.
I didn’t think we could claim we were better than humans. In fact, that had been our biggest vote against revealing ourselves to the human world. Humans were violent, and killed each other with no remorse. They had slaughtered each other in the name of their own Gods.
I, of course, did not see myself as a savior. I strived to find those who could put our world back into order. Running my own Clan, along with fighting against some of the other strong Clans, was starting to take its toll. And I had been at this for almost forty years and I still hadn’t found the people I was looking for. I had heard rumors, but everyone hears rumors. It, of course, never stopped me from looking. I rubbed the back of my neck again, trying to get the knots out.
“Yeah, that willnae help.”
I looked up at the red haired Fey who strolled into my office.
“Get out, Marcus. I am not in the mood.”
“That is whit ye always say, an' yet haur I am.” He sat in the chair in front of my desk and planted his muddied boots on my papers. I glared at him. “Thaur is th' look I loove.”
I bent my head back to my work. “I am not in the mood for your games, Marcus. What do you want?” I asked, emphasizing my question.
“God dammit, I am nae kiddin' aroond. I think I foond a lead.” Marcus stood again, his glamour fading away. Marcus had been my right hand man since I started this endless crusade. He had his reasons and I had mine, and we never asked each other what they were. Yet I trusted him completely.
“Where is the supposed lead?” I did not like the smile he gave me.
●●●
As a Gargoyle, I was a creature of the Air and Earth. I loved the Air more than I loved the Earth at times. This was one of those times. I did not like the dirt beneath my Italian, custom-made shoes. When Marcus told me in his very smug voice that there was a rumored Dragon Shifter in West Virginia, I mostly wanted to make sure he hadn’t gone mad. The first creatures to be destroyed were the Dragons. Now I was wandering through this mess when I had real leads to follow and an actual business to run.
The York family had always had their hands in many different types of businesses, but the main one was steel. Right now I was focusing on that.
As I moved through the forest I caught a strange scent. There was the scent of a Were of some sort, and a separate scent that called to me. Burning incense, a spicy mixture. I moved forward, more swiftly than before.
I watched as a slight woman with long black hair put laundry out on a line. She couldn’t have been over five feet, four inches. She must have been the Were I smelled. She had to be a small animal with her slight frame. I watched with interest, noticing that the spicy, smoky smell was all around her. I wondered if it came from her. If so, why was she out here alone? Either way, her scent was calling to me. I wanted to step out and introduce myself, but before I could, someone else came out of the house.
The man was huge, and that was saying something. I, stood at six feet, eight inches myself, and I was built wide; my body was literally carved from stone. I watched as he moved toward the miniature woman. He bent down, his maroon hair falling on top of her head as he tenderly kissed her. When he pulled away, a gust of wind moved over them, carrying their scents to me.
It hit me like a ton of bricks. I straightened, and swallowed hard. His scent— it hit me, and I knew this darkly handsome male before me was my mate. I had known that I was never interested in women, so it wasn’t a shock to me, but this…this was different. I rarely allowed myself to indulge in the idea of love, of a mate, or even a sexual partner. I had buried myself in work to avoid these matters. My race was dying, and I was a suitable male. I should have been doing my part, and yet I turned away all the females that came to me. Now I knew why.
The man’s jaw was covered in dark stubble, which the small woman put her hand out to touch. I wanted to be the one who touched him so intimately. His blue eyes looked at the small woman with such love that it felt like a punch to my heart. I stepped back because now I realized that I was truly invading their privacy. My mate’s privacy.
●●●
That night I drank until my head swam, until my body relaxed and the clawing ache in my chest eased. I wanted to destroy the woman who had stolen my mate’s heart before I even had a chance. Instead, I continued to drown myself in alcohol. I went days without eating as I tried to forget I ever saw him.
Marcus kept an eye on me. He was never a gentle Fey, but he understood the pain of a missing mate and seemed to take pity on me. With his help, I eased up on the drinking and started to eat again. Each day, the pain lessened.
Weeks turned to months and months to years. I filled my nights with men whose names I couldn’t remember in the morning. I never forgot him, though.
Eventually, I noticed a change, a feeling in my gut. Something said I needed to go back, that my mate needed me. I put Marcus in charge and left.
I flew toward the last place that I had traced him. They moved often, Drake and Coy. I had learned their names over the years as I watched them. The couple always managed to stay in less dense Clan lands. I wondered why, but I never found out. Watching from afar had given me a sense of peace.
I tried looking them up in my own personal database of all the Clans; I couldn’t find either one of them. Drake, he was the bigger mystery because I was still not convinced that he was a Dragon. The Fey could sense the signature of a paranormal and while I trusted Marcus, this seemed too unreal.
One thing was for sure: they usually lived in the forest away from others, but they weren’t too horribly rustic. They were never too far out that they didn’t have some electricity.
Coy was a lovely woman and there was no way that I could take him from her. She was a petite chameleon Were, who only had eyes for my mate. I saw her shift once; one time while she and Drake were having some playful moments, she had shifted her body so that it looked like the forest around them. Although it took a year for me to stop seeing red whenever she touched him, I realized that he was happy with her. This was his life—what right did I have to come and interrupt it?
More than that, though, I had my own life to live. I had my own needs to look after. I would not be weighed down by a mate. A mate that was obviously in love with someone else.
When I felt the pull to go to him, I raced to their home, staying under the canopy to avoid human detection. Branches broke against my skin, scratching long furrows. The pain didn’t faze me as the niggling worry grew.
Within a mile of their cabin, the wind carried the tang of smoke. Fear twisted in my gut, and I pushed myself to fly faster. I burst through the tree line and stopped suddenly. Smoke billowed from the chimney. A sharp scream rent the air, and my mate roared in response. The sound of his bellows broke my heart into two and I felt sick to my stomach.
I ran in. My heart was ramming against my chest as if it wanted to get to him before my body could manage. A different cry rent the air along with my mate’s howl.
Stepping into the small cabin, I smelled the blood before I saw it. I looked over to Drake, who was holding a small babe in his hands and roaring as Coy lay on the ground no longer moving. Drake’s hands were covered in blood, and his face was red with anger.
When his eyes found mine, I realized that Marcus was right. His deep blue eyes were marred with a slit pupil. His teeth had elongated into dangerous looking daggers.
“Drake…”
He snapped his teeth at me. I wasn’t afraid of him—his Dragon would recognize me, of that I was sure. I was worried for the little bundle that he held in his grasp. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. She had a sprinkling of maroon hair like her father’s, and her eyes reflected his as well. She was all cheeks and eyes. Drake’s growl made me shoot my eyes to him.
“I am not here to hurt you or her. I want to help you.”
Drake stopped growling, his attention now turned to the child in his arms. She had stopped screaming, and she watched with new eyes.