Nikolas (5 page)

The bedside clock told her it was already eleven a.m. Her internal clock was still adjusting to the time difference. Taking a risk that no one else would be roaming the halls, she dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt before making her way downstairs. She heard voices as she reached the kitchen door. Sophia paused and listened. When she only heard the cooks speaking about the lunch menu, she continued. Sophia knocked on the doorframe. “Good morning. Could I get some coffee, please?”

The two women smiled back, and one asked, “Would you like a cup or a carafe?”

“A carafe would be wonderful. Thank you. I know it’s late, but is there anything left over from breakfast? A muffin would do if you have one.”

The kitchen was large, decked out with new appliances that would rival most restaurants. A tray loaded with coffee, creamer, sweeteners and an assortment of pastries was presented to Sophia. She took it, thanking the woman. When she turned to go back to her room, footsteps sounded in the hallway. Sophia waited until the person either passed by or came into the doorway in order to avoid dumping the items off her tray. She was greeted with the sight of a grumpy Fred. Sophia smiled and said, “Good morning, Fred.”

He furrowed his brows and responded, “Good morning, Miss.” He took in the carafe on her tray and asked the women in the room, “May I have a pot of coffee, too?”

Sophia remembered she wasn’t Beatrice. She didn’t make any further small talk. Hopefully, Fred wouldn’t think any more about her. This spy shit was harder than she thought it would be. She had to remember not to be quite so friendly in the future
. Back in her room, she poured a cup of coffee and sat down in the oversized chair that faced the window. She wanted to go out on the balcony, but she didn’t want to risk anyone else seeing Sophia and not her “grandmother”.

As she sipped her coffee, Sophia turned the gold disk over in her free hand. She needed to find a local to tell her what the inscription meant, yet she didn’t trust anyone with the object. For all she knew, it could be a stolen priceless artifact, and showing it around could land her in jail. Sophia set her cup down and pulled her computer onto her lap. She opened the files that listed her father’s siblings. One of her aunts lived in South Africa. At forty-seven, Xenia Carmichael was the oldest of her aunts and uncles who had yet to transition. If it were up to Sophia, she would tell every last one of them what they had hidden inside and warn them about their mates.

When Sophia did a search on her aunt, she found the woman was no longer living in South Africa, but Alexandria. How fortuitous. She should have already known that, but her mind had been preoccupied as of late with one tall, handsome Gargoyle. Sometimes she felt like a teenager with her first crush. She might as well be. Sophia hadn’t dated much and was still a virgin. Hopefully, Nikolas wouldn’t be too rough their first time. Then again…

Dammit, she really needed to focus. Tessa had been to Egypt several times over the last decade watching over Xenia. According to her documentation, she had never actually met with the woman, only observed her from a distance. Sophia would need to come up with a good excuse to visit her, especially if she was going to entrust her with the disk. She would probably trust Beatrice at first glance more than a young woman traveling alone, but Sophia didn’t want to chance getting mugged dressed as the older woman. She also didn’t want to risk being noticed as herself, so she chose to become Clara Fort.

She checked the train schedule from Cairo to Alexandria. Even though she already had her first clue, she was tempted to get on the ferry to see if she was still being followed. She definitely wouldn’t take a chance on going back to the zoo. At least, not as Beatrice. When she decided against the ferry, she called and canceled her reservation.

Even though she’d had a couple of pastries, Sophia was still hungry. She blamed it on her shifter metabolism. She ordered a hummus and pita plate from room service and in less than twenty minutes, there was a knock on the door. Since she wasn’t Beatrice, she called out, “Please leave it.” Sophia reached out with her senses. When the footsteps retreated, she opened the door and picked up the tray.

While she was eating, a ping sounded from her computer. The only one who had this particular email address was Tiffany, her friend at the library. There was only one reason she would be emailing – to let her know Nikolas had received her note. Her fingers hit the wrong keys several times before she typed in the correct password.
Calm your ass down. It’s not like he even knows where you are.
Sure enough, Tiffany relayed what transpired: “I told him you had taken a leave of absence, as you instructed. The man was not happy.” Sophia couldn’t help but smile. She closed out of the email without responding. Knowing her mate had come calling again lightened her heart a fraction.

After putting on the Clara prosthetic, Sophia gathered everything she thought she might need and dropped it in her bag. Not taking a chance with the disk
, she slid it into the pocket of the black slacks she was wearing. She French-braided her long hair before wrapping a scarf around her head. Being lighter skinned than Egyptian women, she dressed conservatively not wanting to draw unwanted attention to herself. She locked her room and
snuck downstairs to hail a taxi. While she would love to take the ferry to Giza, she wanted to decipher the clues that were on the disk more. Maybe when she had her parents back safely, she could enjoy the scenery.

The express train ride took a little over three hours. The scenery had been less than spectacular, so Sophia used the time to devise a plan when she met her aunt. As she made her way to the platform, she shrugged her bag higher on her shoulder. She had brought a different disguise as well as a change of clothing, just in case. Being prepared for anything couldn’t hurt.

It was early afternoon, and she was hungry again, so she decided to find something light to eat. Spotting a small restaurant, she ordered Samak Mashwi with a side of Kushari.
It’s a good thing I don’t have a weak stomach.
The fish had a wonderful, spicy flavor she enjoyed, even if it was served whole. Ignoring the eyeball staring back at her, Sophia dug the flesh out of the center and ate it with the rice and lentil side dish.

Xenia’s home was located in a neighborhood containing the railway station. Even though the house was close, Sophia had no desire to walk the few blocks by herself. She hailed a taxi, and a few minutes later, sat in front of her aunt’s small home. Sophia paid the cab driver and got out onto the sidewalk. As she was walking toward the house, she heard a crash coming from inside. “Get out! You can’t see me like this!” a woman shouted.

Something else shattered, and a man yelled, “Fuck, Xenia. Stop this. What is wrong with you?”

Sophia hurried into the house and found a good-looking man dodging flying objects. Whoever was flinging those objects was nowhere to be seen. When a crystal vase was thrown around the corner, the man yelled, “Xenia, seriously, cut the shit!”

Sophia took a big chance and walked into the kitchen where her aunt was hiding. Even if the man hadn’t spoken her aunt’s name, she’d have known it was her. Xenia was the spitting image of Caroline, or would be if her grandmother hadn’t stopped aging and if her grandmother had fangs.

“Oh, shit!” Sophia ducked as another glass item flew through the air, this one headed her way. “Xenia, calm down,” she scolded her aunt.

“Calm down? Calm down she says. She, who I don’t even know who the fuck she is, is telling me to calm down! Do you fucking see this shit?” she asked, holding her clawed hands out to her sides.

Before she could say any more, Sophia returned to the man and blocked his view. “I think it would be best if you go. I’ve got this.” Using her shifter strength, she ushered him toward the door.

“But she said she doesn’t know you. I’m not letting some stranger in here without…” He was cut off as another object grazed the side of his head.

“Out, now!” she said as she shoved him out the door. Sophia flipped the locks and turned to face her aunt. This was what she had been training for. The man banged on the door, yelling to be let back in, but she ignored him.

“I have fangs. And I have claws. Fucking claws!” Xenia looked around, probably for something else to throw. Blood was running down her chin.

“Xenia, I can explain,” she replied with her hands up in the defensive.

The woman whirled around and shrieked, “Really? You can explain to me why after almost fifty years I all of a sudden sprout fucking fangs?”

Instead of answering, Sophia allowed her own fangs and claws to come forth. “I know what you’re going through, so like I said, calm down.”

Xenia calmed down. “What the fuck are you? What am I?” she whispered.

Sophia took a chance and slowly closed the distance between them. Holding her hands in front of her, she retracted her claws and allowed her fangs to retreat into her gums. “I will tell you everything, but first, I want you to close your eyes and imagine your fangs receding into your gums.” Xenia did as she said, and after a few seconds, her mouth was back to normal. “Now, do the same thing with your hands.” Sophia waited until her aunt’s hands were clawless. “Good. Very good.”

Sophia moved toward the sofa and asked, “Would you like to sit down? This is a long story.”

“Yeah, but first I need a drink. Would you like one?” Xenia walked to a cabinet on the far side of the room and poured a tall glass of what looked like whiskey. Xenia downed the glassful of liquor and poured herself another.

“No, thank you. Xenia, you aren’t going to believe what I tell you at first. But please, just hear me out. In the end, it will make sense. Sort of.”

Xenia brought the glass with her and sat across from Sophia. When she was settled, Sophia removed the scarf from her head before she continued. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way about who and what you are. I am your niece.” When Xenia started to interrupt her, Sophia held up her hand. “Yes, I know, you were adopted and don’t have any siblings. Actually, you have sixteen, well fifteen now. One is recently deceased.” Sophia stood and went to the kitchen, wetting a paper towel. She handed it to her aunt and sat back down. “You have a little blood on your chin.” Xenia wiped the blood as Sophia continued, “You were put up for adoption by your biological parents to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?”

“From those of our kind who are prejudiced against the less than pure of our kind. Have you ever read a book about a shapeshifter, you know, like a werewolf?”

Xenia’s eyes were huge. “You mean we’re…”

Sophia cut her off. “No, not exactly. But we do come from a line of shapeshifters. The earliest Gargouille date back millennia. They were created to protect humans. The name has been modernized over the years to Gargoyle. Your father is a full-blood who is from the original line of shifters. Your mother is human; therefore, you are what is considered a half-blood. My father, one of your brothers, is also a half-blood. I guess that would make me a quarter-blood, but that doesn’t have the same ring to it. Anyway, what you have seen, the claws and fangs, is a small part of being a shifter. Females of our kind have enhanced strength, vision, and hearing. Once we meet our mate, we go through our initial transition into our shifter side.

“Phasing is what we call it when our extra parts show up,” Sophia said, using air quotes. “Now, the males, they are special. The Gargoyles have an awesome set of wings as well as special skin that is impenetrable. And yes, before you ask, they can fly. The half-blood males get wings upon their transition, but not the thick skin. It develops over time. I know this is a lot to throw at you at once, but honestly, the worst part is over.” Sophia spent the next hour filling Xenia in on all things Goyle and answering her many questions. It was a lot to take in, especially the feeling of betrayal by parents who kept some of their children and not the others.

“So, what you’re saying is even though I’ve been seeing Keene for the last few months, anyone I’ve come in contact with could be my mate?”

“Yes, but you will know whether it’s him or not by the feelings you get when he’s near. I’m surprised it took you so long to transition, though. Most of us phase for the first time pretty quickly after meeting our mate.”

“I’ve had fangs for months now. I just didn’t know what to do about them. I’ve taken a sabbatical from work to come to terms with the new me.”

“That makes more sense. Have you not been around Keene since you transitioned?”

“No, and as you can see, he got tired of waiting on me. I’ve been putting him off, telling him I was sick. When I’m around him, my body does its own thing.”

Sophia couldn’t help but think about her own body’s reaction to Nik.

“Where did you go just then?” Xenia asked with the first smile she’d formed since Sophia walked into the house.

“I was thinking about my mate and how he makes me feel. When he’s near, I absolutely have to touch him. It’s as if part of my soul leaves me and takes up residence with him. Until I’m in his presence again, part of me feels gone. You might look at others and think they’re attractive, but no one else will do it for you, ever again.”

Xenia sighed. “Then Keene is definitely my mate. But how do I explain all of this to him? We haven’t known each other that long, and I really thought he was the one.”

“If he is the reason for your transition, he is the one. You should tell him the truth. He will feel the mate pull to you as well, and he won’t really have a choice but to be around you. I have yet to see a mate who ran for the hills at seeing the shifter side. While most of the shifters have mates who are also shifters, it isn’t unheard of for the mates to be fully human, like your mother and my mother.”

“My mother… what’s she like? I lost both my adoptive parents about a year ago to a home invasion.” Xenia paused as she took a sip of her drink. “That’s when I moved up here to Alexandria.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss. Your biological mother, Caroline, is great. You look a lot like her, except older.”