Knights-of-Stone-Bryce (2 page)

If they were dark beings, alerting them of her presence was a terrible idea. She retreated into the woods. Impossible to know who to trust anymore. If anyone.

She’d wait to see if they shifted to human form. Then she’d decide whether to approach them.

It would also give her some time to rest and rejuvenate. Something she hadn’t been able to do in days. She ventured to an area in the forests that offered the most coverage, yet with access to escape if necessary. Sitting on a bed of soft green groundcover, she closed her eyes for a moment. Images of the attack instantly flashed before her. The blood, the smoke, the blanket of corpses…

Minutes passed, or maybe hours, as she relived her horror in a dream-like state.

Something grabbed her arm. Warm breath tickled the back of her neck. Before she could react, someone pinned her back to the forest floor.

“Who are you?” the man looming over her demanded. “Why did you follow us here?”

“Get off me!” Mairi struggled to escape.

He had the definitive scent of a gargoyle. And from the strength of his grasp, he was a powerful one. Quick enough to catch her without her detecting him. Or it was another sign of her exhaustion.

“Stop fighting me.” He adjusted his hands on her wrists, pinning her down, while he sat on her legs, preventing her from kicking.

She fought harder. No way did she escape what she’d gone through only to be captured, again.

She soon discovered just how strong he was. She couldn’t wiggle out unless he lessened his grip.

“I asked you a question. Who. Are. You?”

He stared at her with fury in his gaze. Gold in his amber irises burned with a feral glint. Had she made a terrible mistake? Why on earth had she followed strangers?

She wouldn’t cower. But after their eyes locked with an intense glare for several heart-pounding moments, she decided it wouldn’t hurt to answer. “My name is Mairi.”

“Why are you here?”

“I—uh.” How should she explain how she’d ended up on the island? “I needed to rest.”

His expression conveyed suspicion, indicating he didn’t buy her excuse. “Rubbish. Why were you spying on us?”

“I wasn’t spying,” she replied, twisting beneath him for a way out.

Not only was it unsuccessful, it made matters worse. He pressed down against her body, preventing her from moving. His massive chest crushed her breasts, which were heaving from the struggle. She had to stop the fruitless attempt and calm down. When she ceased fighting, he relaxed his hold, but didn’t release her.

“Then what were you doing watching us?” His breath fanned her cheek. “Who are you with?”

“No—no one,” she stammered.

“I don’t like being lied to.” He tightened his grip on her wrists. “Tell me the truth, or this will become more unpleasant.”

Tears of frustration stung her eyes. She forced them back and cried, “I’m all alone.”

“You will tell me everything,” he commanded.

She took a deep breath to center herself and regain composure. Nodding, she glared at her captor.

“I’m going to let you go, but I’ll keep you within an arm’s grasp. If you try to run, I
will
catch you.”

“All right,” she conceded.

He loosened his hold on her so she was able to squirm out from under his massive body. Although she wanted to kick him where it would hurt most and then run, she didn’t have an advantageous position to do so. It likely wouldn’t end well. He had other gargoyles to back him up. And she had…no one.

Nobody to look out for her. Nobody who would notice she was gone.

She jumped to her feet and balled her hands at her sides. He kept his glare fixed on her, watching every move. She scanned him. He only wore a blue kilt with a wide belt. No visible weapon. That was a plus. But he stood well over six feet tall, his body contoured with powerful muscles he’d used to hold her down.

Her gaze darted in each direction to assess her choices. A weapon. Or a means of escape. Which option gave her better odds? Fighting him wasn’t the optimal choice. He clearly had the advantage when it came to strength. But she was quick. A gargoyle that big and strong couldn’t be fast. Her advantage lay in her smaller physique. Without any other gargoyles in sight, that had to be the way to go.

“No sudden moves,” he added, stepping so close his body heat filled the space between them.

Under the earliest rays of sunrise, his cinnamon-hair shone with a red tint that matched the scruff on his cheeks. He loomed down over her by several inches. The fury had left his eyes, but suspicion lingered.

“I won’t run,” she lied.

“Now, I’m going to ask you one more time. Why have you come to this island, and why are you spying on us?”

Her muscles twitched, ready to take action. No way would she let this gargoyle capture her and force answers.

“Piss off!” she screamed as she bolted away from him.

He reached out and grasped her wrist, but she’d already initiated flight and wings burst from her back. As she ascended, she slipped from his hold.

“Fuck!” he shouted.

She was airborne. Free! She’d escaped.

A mighty arm grasped her by the waist and yanked her down. He wrapped both arms around her as she struggled once again to break free, but he pinned her in a tight grip, this time from behind.

She was trapped.

Again.

She squirmed and kicked and used her wings as a weapon, beating them against him. She wouldn’t submit to him.

“Let me go!” she cried.

Who was she, and what was she doing on the Isle of Stone? She had no business here.

Spying. That’s what it had to mean. And after all Bryce and his brothers had gone through in recent weeks to protect the island, he bloody well wasn’t going to let an intruder foul up their progress.

Or, could she be connected to the rumors in the Highlands?

“Stop fighting me, damn it!” He shouted at the gargoyle shifter struggling to escape his grasp and beating at him with her silver-tipped wings.

At first, he thought he’d imagined seeing a woman in the forest. One with dark red hair fit right into his fantasies. When he’d approached, he caught her scent. Gargoyle. And an alluring one. Oof. Since only he and his brothers were the gargoyles who’d remained on the island, this meant one thing. Trouble.

She wasn’t part of his former clan. How did she end up on the Isle of Stone?

She must have followed them back from the Highlands. The magical veil wouldn’t keep out other supernatural beings, only deter humans. It muddled their senses and technology so they couldn’t find the isle.

Pinning her on the ground was one thing. Holding her in the air was far more difficult. Especially since she had a gargoyle’s strength and was feisty as hell, thrashing and kicking at him like a trapped animal. He’d never met a female gargoyle with such fire.

Or desperation for freedom. Whatever it was, it had the unexpected side effect of turning him on. If he wasn’t so damn concerned with getting information from her, he might have taken a different course of action.

“Let go,” she insisted, kicking back and trying to claw him.

He’d caught her from behind, which wasn’t easy with her wings between them. If her hands reached him, she’d claw his eyes out.

Her skin changed texture beneath his fingers. Fuck. She was shifting to gargoyle form. Bryce and his brothers could shift into different states—human, which they spent most of their time as; stone, which they often transformed to rest or observe; and gargoyle form. This last form, in which they had the toughest hide and most strength, they typically reserved for combat. If she shifted to this form, it likely meant she wasn’t about to submit.

Not good.

“If you’re shifting to fight me, I warn you, it will not end well.”

Her muscles tensed as she listened to him. Her heart pounded against his arms wrapped around her ribcage.

“I’m stronger than you, and you’re outnumbered,” he continued, lest she try to continue with a sudden plan of attack. “My brothers are all nearby. One rash move, and I warn them about an intruder. You’ll have to face much more than me.”

For several seconds, the only sounds were their quickened breaths after the struggle.

She conceded with a terse reply. “Fine.”

Her toughened skin softened back to human texture. He ran his fingers over it. Smooth, silky, feminine flesh. Whenever he bedded a lass, he loved to touch their soft skin. His reaction was inappropriate considering the circumstances, but he couldn’t resist.

“Will you let go of me?”

“No,” he snapped. Was she insane? “We will descend together.”

She ground her teeth. “All right.” Like she had any other choice with him pinning her wings.

“One. Two. Three.” He led their descent at a cautious pace, maneuvering through the canopy of the trees until they reached the fern-covered ground below. “Now, once again, tell me everything.” He released her torso, but kept one wrist in his grasp. “This time, I’m not letting you go.”

She cast a scathing look, which might whither a weaker being, his way.

He smirked, amused at her attempt to intimidate him. “All right, hellion. Speak. Why are you spying on us?”

“Don’t call me that,” she spat. “I already told you my name. It’s Mairi.” Her bottom lip trembled. “And I’m not spying on you.”

“Like hell you aren’t. I saw you watching us from the forests. Which means you must have followed us here.”

She raised her chin, but didn’t say anything.

“Who asked you to spy on us? What clan are you from?”

Dropping her gaze to the floor, she shook her head. “I’m alone.”

She didn’t answer his question. “Was it Duncan? Did he ask you to keep an eye on us?”

He wouldn’t put it past his former alpha to send a sentry back.

She glanced up and furrowed her brows. “Who?”

Damn. Who could it be? “Humans?”

Humans had been their most recent threat with their investigation after the wolf attacks.

“I’m not spying on you,” she said, “But I did follow you.”

“Why?”

“I saw two beings flying over the Highlands and thought they might be gargoyles. So I followed.”

“Why would you follow other gargoyles?”

“I-uh-I don’t know,” she stammered. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

Who would follow someone without a reason? “Why not?”

“My clan—” her bottom lip quivered. “Is gone.”

Gone could mean any number of things. “Meaning?”

“They were killed. In the Highlands.”

Shite.
A twinge of empathy flickered within. “All of them?”

“All of them.”

She was alone—
if
she was telling the truth. His protective instincts flared. No, now wasn’t the time. Not with an intruder who had followed them to their home. He took a deep breath to regain control.
Act on cool rational thought. Don’t respond to strong gargoyle instinct.
He couldn’t drop all his suspicions just because she’d spun a sad story. He’d met many manipulative females who’d lie to get whatever they wanted.

“What happened to them?”

“Some kind of—” she bit her lip while appearing to search for the word. “—demon or something. They attacked us.”

Fuck. The whispers in the Highlands rang of truth. He’d never encountered a demon and guessed he wouldn’t want to. Especially if they were capable of destroying a clan of gargoyle shifters. He had to get all the facts. “Where?”

“The north coast of the Highlands.”

That was where the rumors of incidents had taken place. The wild and rugged coastline took shape in his mind. Waves crashing against unforgiving cliffs. “So you’re alone?”

She bit her bottom lip when it quivered again. Her eyes glistened and she turned her head. “Aye. My clan is gone. Family—all dead.”

The gargoyle drive surged through him again, this time with renewed vigor, demanding he take action.

Intruder. Remember?

He tamped down the overwhelming instinct. “How did you escape?”

“Two of the demons had captured me. They said they wanted to—” She squeezed her eyes shut. “—play with me. Before they did it. Before they killed me.”

Fuck. Fuck. And Fuck. Rape? Or some other form of torture? His body warmed from the core out, consumed with an inner fury. He clenched his hands into tight fists, gritting his teeth. With a slow, deep breath, he regained composure. “How did you escape?”

In an almost inaudible tone, she added, “I slipped away when they were distracted.”

He grunted. He’d encountered how slippery she could be when she’d fought to escape his grasp.

“Then what happened?”

“I returned to find my clan mates. When I found them, it was too late.”

The implication was clear, but he had to be sure. “Dead?”

“Aye.” Her voice came out soft and wounded. The haunted expression in her eyes tugged at him—what he’d do to make it disappear.

What was coming over him? She was a stranger. He had no business being swept up in her story. Not with his problems to deal with. As beta in a new clan still trying to establish itself, he had to come to terms with the tree witches and wolf shifters on the isle. If they came to an agreement, he hoped to resurrect the Knights of Stone, the band in which he’d formed with his brothers
.
Its future had become uncertain after an incident with the wolf attack during the last full moon. Without an audience, there were no shows.

He took a mental step back to assess her story from a distance. “Why did the demons attack your clan?”

“I don’t know. Retribution?” She threw her free hand up. “My clan had destroyed demons in the past to protect the human clans in the Highlands.” Her shoulders sagged. “But they’re demons. At least, that’s what I think they are. Pure evil. Who knows why they do what they do?”

Despite his attempt at detachment, a part of him reacted to her story.
Let her go,
it shouted at him.
She’s already gone through being captured and you’re making it bloody well worse.

Oof. He wanted to slap that soft side of himself. He knew women. She could be playing him, lying to escape a sticky situation. He’d met plenty of females who’d brought down men. How many had slept with him while they left their lover clueless at home? No remorse for their deceit. A singular purpose to get what they wanted no matter who they’d hurt in the process. He wasn’t fool enough to be one of those swayed by a lass with a pretty pout.