Stone Guard: Gargoyle Shifter Paranormal Romance (Warriors of Stone Book 2) Read online

  Stone Guard

  Warriors of Stone II

  Emma Alisyn

  Hard Candies Publishing

  Copyright © 2017 by Emma Alisyn

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Line Editing by Michelle Hoffman

  https://www.facebook.com/Michellesedits/

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Your FREE Romance Book

  Sneak Peek

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Stone Prince: Warriors of Stone III

  Stone Lover: Warriors of Stone 1

  All He Wants for Christmas Giveaway

  The Mountain King: Sneak Peek

  Dragon Star: Sneak Peek

  Your FREE Romance Book

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to the fabulously detail oriented beta readers who comb over my manuscripts and smack me over the head with all the errors, inconsistencies and boring bits. I don’t know what in the hell I’d do without ya’ll.

  D’niche Felix

  Christiana Davis

  Tiffani Rippy

  Janet Swiftbird

  Jane Loyless

  Denise Tiblis

  Jennine Blair

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  Sneak Peek

  “I’ll conk you on the head before you get to take any kind of reward from me,” she threatened.

  “If you can’t get at least one in,” he replied lazily, “then I’ll have to tell Kausar on myself.”

  He leaped over the couch, wings blocking the moonlight from the windows momentarily. She squeaked, scrambling out of the way, but he was done letting her escape. A hard, muscled arm hooked around her waist dragging her back against his chest. She countered, using a quick, nasty, little trick she and Veda had endeavored to keep him from knowing she’d learned.

  He cursed, glaring at her as she whirled and backed away, brandishing the vase.

  “Veda,” he said. “I owe her.”

  “You’ll not take your revenge out on my sister-in-training, miscreant,” Bea growled. “You’ll have to go through me first.”

  A quick flurry of movements, Bea breathing hard and cycling through every beginner trick she knew. He caught her again, this time wary of her quick feet, pulling her head back, so he could access her throat.

  “You were saying something about going through you?” he asked with a deep chuckle. “Or in you?”

  Her buttocks pressed against him as she gasped, his teeth sinking into the curve of her neck and suckling even as his hands cupped her breasts, sliding under the hem of her shift to tug at her nipples. He twisted the hardened nubs, and she cried out, the sharp pain sending a jolt to her clit.

  Niko walked her forward, her knees trembling and no more thoughts of playing run-and-chase in her head. He pushed, hard, and she tumbled stomach first onto the bed.

  1

  Nikolau slathered his mother’s homemade preserves on a slice of bread and took a bite. It tasted like tension.

  “Repeat what you just said,” his father demanded, gruff voice heating. He was a warrior, so despite his age and beaten in face, he still spoke and moved with the energy of a much younger male. His temper wasn’t anything to scoff at, but neither was Niko’s.

  Niko chewed, swallowed, and glanced at his mother who continued to eat her dinner, gaze averted, as if she were unaware her only son and her husband were a hairsbreadth from coming to blows. His sister Veda rolled her eyes and grimaced, glancing at her wrist unit as if hoping a communication would come through and interrupt the upcoming fight.

  If the male would just stop trying to control him, they would get along fine. He figured there was a reckoning coming soon, and not just because of how his father treated his mother when Niko and Veda weren’t around.

  “You heard me just fine,” Niko said, and eyed the white casserole dish of steamed vegetables. He picked up the serving fork and rooted around for the spear of broccoli with the most lemon pepper seasoning. It was the only way he could stand the cow chew. Not that he’d ever say that to his mother.

  “Don’t sass me, boy,” Arthur growled, slamming his fork down on the table. “I’ve worked hard to get you where you are—”

  Niko snorted, and ate a carrot, side-eyeing his mother to make sure she’d noticed.

  “What does that sound mean?” Arthur demanded.

  “I’ve worked hard to get where I’m at, old stone,” he said. “But you were lecturing me. Carry on.”

  His mother sighed and rose, probably glad the oven beeper went off that very second. It gave her an excuse to escape. She entered the kitchen and the scent of hot cinnamon apples wafted out. Niko mentally counted the number of green vegetables he’d eaten and quickly heaped his plate with a half dozen more. He wouldn’t get any pie otherwise.

  “That’s your problem,” his father fumed. “You don’t take anything seriously. Trusted friend of Prince Malin himself, and you don’t even exert yourself to use your influence to help your family.”

  “We’re friends. It’s not a quid pro quo relationship. Asking for favors would be the fast track to not be friends anymore.”

  A friendship kindled because Niko didn’t have the energy or willingness to kiss ass like his father. After butting heads for a few years as teenagers, he and Malin had settled into a satisfying alliance based on an understanding that neither of them wanted the other for favors and influence, sex, or money. It was a relationship he valued, even if he didn’t like Surah that much. At least she allowed Malin to be himself, and worked hard in his interests like a proper female, despite her mother’s unfortunate genetics. Though he admitted to himself that his dislike of her was probably irrational, and based on his father’s own anti-human prejudices.

  “You’re not making the most of your opportunities,” Arthur said. “No one gets ahead on merit alone. It takes connections, and the right balance of favors. A female can get away with laxity in these matters—her husband will take up the slack. But you have to—”

  Veda pushed back her chair with a loud, rude scrape. “I’ll go help mother with the pie,” she said, lip curled, and stalked out of the dining room.

  Arthur frowned after her. “Needs a mate. If you were better placed in the guard, you could use your influence to find her a suitable match.”

  “You don’t know your daughter very well, do you? Veda isn’t going to marry anyone you or I choose. If she marries at all.”

  A purplish hue colored his father’s grey cheeks, the blush of anger in a gargoyle. “A disgrace, a single female her age. I blame you
r mother. Human blood always tells.”

  Niko’s fingers curled around his fork and he reminded himself that if he smashed his father, his mother would pay for it later. Niko got to go home to his quiet, Arthur-free apartment. Stacia was stuck with her husband, and refused to leave no matter how her two adult children pleaded with her.

  Stacia and Veda entered the dining room. His mother carried a steaming glass pie dish in her mittened hands while Veda carried a tub of ice cream. “I thought we could have dessert while we finish our dinner,” Stacia said. “It’s a waste not to eat apple pie when it’s fresh out of the oven.”

  Veda thumped the carton of ice cream on the table with a glance at their father. Her blank expression told Niko everything he needed to know—the females had been eavesdropping. Not that they hadn’t heard it all before. At least his father was an honest asshole; he said the same stupid shit to a person’s face as he did behind one’s back.

  “Maybe Niko doesn’t want to be a palace guard,” Veda said.

  “Stay in your place,” Arthur snapped. “This is warriors’ conversation.”

  “Mother, I can’t stay here any longer. He’s ridiculous.”

  “I’d like you to have some dessert,” Stacia said, “but if you have to leave early, take a container with you.”

  “She’ll sit down and finish her dinner.”

  Veda bared her teeth at Arthur. “Make me.”

  Arthur stood, planting his hands on the table and leaning forward. His hair was cut short, a new, fashionable style in court. “Don’t make me rein you in, girl. I let you have your little business—”

  “Let? Have you finally lost your damn mind, old stone?”

  “Veda,” Niko said. The last thing their mother needed was for her to goad their father into striking out. Niko would have to stop him, and dinner would be ruined. And a whole lot more. It wasn’t time yet. Their mother wasn’t ready to leave, and Arthur wasn’t ready to change—if he would ever be ready. Veda left the table and came back a moment later with a brown recyclable container and cut herself a slice of pie.

  Niko stood. “I’ll walk you out. Do you want an escort home?” A gargoyle female was no weakling, and the only danger in the skies was other gargoyles, but Veda was known in this area, and only an enemy would lay a finger on her.

  She shook her head. “No, I’m going to fly the long way and get some fresh wind.”

  He walked her out of the house. It was a small sign of his mother’s human blood that Stacia had chosen a single story house rather than a tower, or even an apartment in a high-rise building. Or maybe it was a subtle dig at his father. Females were traditionally allowed to choose the marital dwelling, and it was one area where the husbands had no say. It must irk Arthur every time he had company, that they had to walk to his front door rather than set down on a second or third story balcony.

  Veda turned to him once they cleared the front steps and walk to the sidewalk. “He’s got a sock in the jaw coming, Niko.”

  “What about mother?”

  Frustration shone in her expressive eyes. “Mom needs to leave him already. He’s a jerk.”

  “He’s still your father, and you need to show respect.”

  “Like you do?”

  Niko crossed his arms. “That’s different. We’re both warriors, and guards. I’m a colleague just as much as a son.”

  She snorted. “Excuses. If he ever lays a finger on me—”

  “Then I’ll beat the shit out of him. But he never has, and he won’t start now. He just barks.”

  “If he ever lays a finger on mother…”

  “Then I’ll kill him. That would be the line in the sand.”

  “I should have been a son. Or born to a father who would have let me train.”

  A familiar refrain. Veda wanted to fight. Veda wanted her freedom from the strictures of being a female in gargoyle society. He’d taught her a few things over the years, the kind of self-defense all females should know, but she nagged him for more. He thought fleetingly of Surah. She had a kind of freedom few highborn females enjoyed. Was Veda any less capable than a half-breed with a smart mouth? There were always one or two female warriors around, though they were exceptions.

  “Maybe,” he heard himself say, “I can arrange something with Kausar. You’ll owe me.”

  Veda gaped at him. He couldn’t believe he’d said it himself. “But now isn’t the right time. The Prince is on edge and the court unsettled. Give me a few months.”

  “The offer is enough, brother. Thank you. I’d like to be able to defend myself. Against father, or anyone else.”

  She should be allowed to defend herself. There wasn’t always a male around. Arthur was mean, hard to live with and borderline verbally abusive. But he’d never hit Stacia, and never physically harmed her in any other way. He hadn’t quite crossed the line verbally, at least in front of Niko and Veda, where they would feel justified to override their mother’s will and take her away from her husband whether she liked it or not. So Veda was as on edge as he was. Stacia needed to be on her own, but they couldn’t do anything about it without disrespecting a woman who’d been disrespected enough.

  Veda’s wings flared, skin darkening to a pearly dove-gray as she made the subtle shift to her true form. Black nails lengthened, clutching the box of pie and she rose into the air, strength evident in her arms, shoulders and back. If their father ever did take his daughter on, he’d be in for a nasty surprise. Veda wasn’t as delicate as she looked. Maybe they were wrong not to train the females.

  When she’d flown away, Niko entered the house again.

  Arthur scowled. “You should have flown her home. Stubborn girl. When I was a boy—”

  “That was a century ago.” He bent to kiss his mother’s cheek. “I have to leave, mother, I have duty in a few hours.”

  She smiled at him and patted his hand. “Take an extra slice of pie since you ate your vegetables. You’re too skinny.”

  “He’s lean, and mean,” his father said. “Like he should be. Don’t know why he hasn’t married, either. All that potential wasted with no female to appreciate it. Won’t ever get grandchildren. I’d even settle for a human at this point.”

  Niko snorted. “Funny. You would throw a fit.”

  Arthur frowned at him. “You take the trial, boy. A position in Prince Geza’s personal guard will make your career. You’ll have your pick of the highest caliber females for wife.”

  Niko’s brow rose. “I have my pick now.”

  His father trailed after him as he left the house. “You two are so blasted worried about your mother, how do you think she feels with no babies to take care of during the evening? Do your duty,” he shouted as Niko took off. “Take the trial, get a wife.”

  “Whatever, old stone.”

  He stopped at his friend’s mansion since it was on the way to work, and he needed someone he could safely vent to, someone he knew wouldn’t betray the tension between him and his father. A family should never show weakness or division in front of strangers. He landed on the balcony outside Malin’s study, having already checked in with aerial security two miles away.

  “Niko,” the Prince greeted him. “You seem ruffled.”

  He accepted a glass of wine and prowled the study, briefly relating the conversation with his father, ending with the demand for marriages and garlings. Malin’s lips curved in a smile.

  Niko glowered, irritated. “It isn’t funny.”

  Malin’s wings rustled and Niko reflected again on the miracle of the Prince’s increasing recovery. Two years after his mating and marriage to Surah, and it was almost as if he’d never been ravaged by the Ioveanu hereditary disease. The lines of pain around his eyes and mouth were gone, his nature more relaxed, open. At least in private.

  “I agree with Arthur, though it galls to admit it. You’re too old to be unmarried,” Malin said. “Geza needs stability around him. The young, single ones encourage his foolishness. Married males with families are a better infl
uence.”

  “Let me just go out and snap up the first eligible female I see then,” Niko snapped, then shuddered. The females at court were predatory at best, and not in a warrior-like way. He wasn’t even sure what kind of wife he wanted. His parent’s marriage wasn’t exactly an advertisement for marital bliss.

  A toddler streaked into the room followed by two females, one lean and dark, exasperation on her face, the other a tall, rare blonde willowy and serene.

  Surah stopped, scowled at Niko. “You’re here.”

  He lifted his wineglass in a salute. “Your favorite person.”

  She snorted. The toddler wrapped herself around Malin’s leg and attempted to climb him, little wings flapping furiously, babbling all kinds of things that sounded like a mixture of cursing and complaints.

  “She won’t let me comb her hair,” Surah complained. “And she bit Lilu.”

  Lady Sililu smiled. “Her teeth are sharp.”

  Niko studied the females. Surah was too much the warrior, and coupled with her edgy intelligence, set Niko’s teeth on edge. He needed something more soothing in his life. Lady Sililu …she might be more of the right type, but when he watched her he felt empty. Too quiet. Too polished. She reminded him of the court ladies, but without the hunger in their eyes. Of course she was already well wed, wife of the only Ioveanu princess even if it was in name only, and under the protection of her wife’s husband. Malin looked at her with the warm affection of a brother—many females would kill for her position in life.