Stone Cold Seduction (3 page)

“Doesn’t know what?” I asked, eyeing the bottle of whiskey Teryl carried to the table. He sat down and poured two more shots, handing one to me.

Jax spoke for him. “Your father is a shadow elf king, and you’re his heir.”

Chapter Two

I polished off the shot of whiskey in between bouts of laughter.

The guys sat silently, waiting. Teryl was turning his shot glass around and around, watching the liquid swirl. Jax didn’t move a muscle.

“Okay, okay.” I laughed and waved a hand at them. “A shadow elf king, right. My dad had his ears surgically altered in order to conform and walk among humans.” I rolled my eyes and continued. “And wait, let me guess. He met my mom, they fell in love, but because elves and humans can’t be together, we were cast out, and he had to stay and lead his people.”

I sobered and stared hard at them. “Next, I suppose you’ll tell me he really did love me, but the elf rules require him to treat me like a monster.”

“No,” Teryl replied softly, still fidgeting with his glass. “He’s the monster, even in elven terms. His mistake was that he wrote you off as human, and therefore, powerless. Now we know he was wrong.”

The sadness in Teryl’s voice was unsettling. But not nearly as unsettling as the line of crap he was trying to feed me.

“Honestly, I don’t know what sick joke you’re trying to play, but I’ve had it.” I wiped a hand over my face and stood up. “You can both show yourselves out. I’m going to take a hot shower, then sleep this nightmare off.”

“Sit.” The command in Jax’s voice was unmistakable, but I ignored it.

Before I got out of the kitchen, he grabbed my arm. Again. “We have much more to tell you, and you need to sit.”

I glared over my shoulder at him.

“Please,” he added.

“No more lies, no more stories.” I tried to shake his hand off. “I just want the tru—”

The word stuck in my throat.

Because the hand holding my arm had turned to stone.

Cold, heavy, unyielding stone. And the fingers, one by one, wiggled at me before slowly releasing. My eyes followed the movement as Jax let his hand drop to his side, and it slowly returned to normal.

What the hell?
I downed the shot Teryl handed me.

“Jax,” I tried to whisper, but it came out as a squeak, from the whiskey or surprise, I couldn’t tell.

“I’m a gargoyle,” he said, as casually as one might comment on the weather.

I couldn’t seem to look away from that normal-looking hand. Jax sighed, and I watched his entire arm turn gray as flesh turned to stone once more.

“How is that possible?” I asked, not taking my eyes off the marbled muscle. My brain was having trouble processing what my eyes were seeing. Even so, I made a mental note that cast in stone, Jax would be so sexy. He was a living, breathing statue. At least partially. Move over, Michelangelo’s
David
.

No man should look that good without trying. It was a crime. One I was happy to admire, as I noted how the muscles of his arm were etched perfectly into stone. Besides, focusing on the sexy part was easier to cope with.

“I was born this way, just as you were born part shadow elf.”

Shadow elf. Right. My desire disappeared at the unwelcome reminder. The bizarre explanation was not what I wanted to hear. I slid my gaze to Teryl, almost afraid to ask. What sort of freaky body-changing tricks was my best friend hiding?

Teryl rolled his shoulders, obviously uncomfortable. “I’m an oracle.”

“An oracle,” I repeated. “Of course, because that makes so much sense. And I’m Dorothy. I want to get back to Kansas, and you can both stay in Oz.” My voice began to rise along with my temper. I thought I’d been lost when my mom was murdered, but now I was being told I wasn’t even human?

“How could I, all of the sudden, be a completely different species and not know it? I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me my father was the devil himself, but wouldn’t I know what I am?” I crossed my arms over my chest, and I pinned Jax with a hard stare. “Prove it.”

“We don’t know what your powers are,” Teryl answered for him. “If you’d just let us explain.”

I’d reached my breaking point. “You’re telling me I’m some sort of freaky, half-human thing. Jax can turn to stone, and I don’t know what the hell an oracle can do, but I’m sure it’s weird, too.”

Jax placed a hand on my arm. I’m sure he meant it to be comforting. At the moment, I found it condescending. I shrugged him off. “Don’t touch me.”

He lifted a brow at me. “I was going to show you, just as you’d asked.”

“Do it without touching me,” I said, with my teeth clenched.

He smiled—he probably knew his touch distracted me—and walked past me into the living room. He stood in the center and faced me, then pulled off his shirt in what could easily have been the sexiest strip-tease I’d ever witnessed. Wings appeared behind him, folded against his bare torso. It happened so fast, it seemed as if they appeared out of nowhere.

“I’d show you the whole wingspan, but your room is too small.”

I swallowed the startled expletive in my throat and frowned at him. “Why is it always a size thing with guys?”

That wiped the smile off his face. “You wanted to know how we got off the ledge. I’m offering you an answer.”

“You flew us down?” I could see the wings, but my brain was having a harder time processing how good he looked with them. Hot. Beyond hot.

I took a moment to look at him. Really look at him.

His stance was casual. Legs shoulder-width apart, arms hanging at his sides. My mouth went suddenly dry, so I swallowed a few times. My imagination had not done his body justice. He was Gorgeous with a capital G. Every muscle on his upper body was well defined, even as he stood relaxed. A shadow of dark hair lightly covered his chest and made the sexiest trail down his abdominals. I greedily followed the path that stopped—much to my disappointment—at the waistband of his jeans.

I bit my bottom lip. I’d never be able to look at him without drooling again.

Focus!
I tried to shut up my inner hussy and deal with the problem at hand. But oh, what a problem. Those two shots of whiskey were settling my nerves and firing up my libido.

Jax frowned at me. “Is something funny?”

I wiped the inappropriate but appreciative smile off my face and shook my head. “No, sorry. I got distracted.”

His slow, sexy smile came back. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t have to. Jax had the amazing ability to say so much without uttering a single word. And I needed to get back on track.

His aura of danger had increased exponentially with the addition of dark, leathery wings and I found myself wanting to touch them. Walking into the living room, I examined the wings.

Irritation forgotten for the moment, I moved closer and circled around. His wings flared out from his shoulder blades. They were the same dark gray color his arm had become when he turned to stone. A shade somewhere between his black hair and silver eyes, including threads of dark, shimmery gray. Even folded, they were huge. They skimmed the ground next to his feet and extended almost to the crown of his head. No feathers, I noted.

On him, they looked…right. The wings looked like a natural and necessary part of his body.

Jax shrugged his shoulders and the wings moved with him.

“What are they made from?” I asked softly.

“Bone, skin, muscle,” he replied. He shifted and the wings extended out slightly, enough for me to see the skeletal structure and the muscles. They were incredible.

“You can touch them.” His voice rumbled through me, striking the right chord.

Have I mentioned his voice? It’s deep and low and when he speaks, it echoes in all the right places. And when he told me to touch him, my hormones perked up. Everything did. Which is why I hesitated. For some reason, I knew touching him in that moment would be a bad idea.

“What else can a gargoyle do?” I stepped away and put my hands behind my back.

He turned his head so he could see my face. “We’re immortal. We fly and turn to stone. Our role is usually bodyguard.”

“And they’re damn near indestructible.”

Teryl’s voice brought me back to the present. I’d forgotten he was here. In fact, I’d forgotten almost everything, I’d been so fascinated by my gargoyle employee.

Teryl stepped into the living room, too, shot glass in hand. “He’s being modest. What Jax isn’t saying is that when they turn to stone, they can crush just about anything. I once saw a gargoyle smash a man’s face right in.” He downed the drink in one swallow, then shuddered. “Let’s just say, you don’t want to piss one off.”

I wondered what else Jax could do? Teryl’s words had brought up a gruesome image, so maybe I really didn’t want to know.

Just then, I noticed his wings ended in sharpened points of the silvery threads. They could be used as weapons, not only for flight. Or whatever we’d done tonight.

I felt the anger and frustration building and tamped them down. Those emotions weren’t helpful. I’d learned that long ago. And if I were honest, I could admit this situation wasn’t their fault. It was a mess, but not their fault. But maybe, just maybe, they could shed a little light on it all.

I turned to Teryl. “What can an oracle do?”

The expression that settled on his face was not a happy one. “It depends on the oracle’s lineage. Some oracles are used to locate people or things. Others can predict the future, but that line isn’t as strong as it used to be. Some can read minds.” He leaned against the wall, close to the small side table at one end of my couch. His hands idly spun the small, decorative globe I had on display, because he couldn’t contain his nervous energy. “And a few read fate.”

He’d always had trouble staying still, but tonight I heard weariness in his voice, which was something I’d never noticed before. I studied Teryl’s face and saw lines of worry. The corners of his mouth were turned down in a slight frown.

On most people, the look wouldn’t be a big deal. We have days that are up and days that are down. But Teryl is a perpetual optimist. My brown-haired, brown-eyed friend is always smiling and joking. He’s engaged to a perfectly nice woman named Clio. I swear, they were made for each other. She works for my father, and since she transferred to the London office months ago, Teryl has become increasingly unhappy.

Right now, he was subdued and quiet as he revealed the types of oracles. The normal spark in his eyes was gone. He seemed a little lost. The words coming out of his mouth were a far cry from his usual jokes and devil-may-care persona.

What he was describing seemed surreal. I tried to wrap my brain around the last skill he’d mentioned. “Read fates? Sort of like the Greek Fates and the threads of life?”

He shook his head slowly, and folded his arms as he looked up from the spot on the floor that had held his gaze. “Not quite. When one of us is born,” he gestured to each of us, “our fate is read and recorded at birth.”

“It’s a summary of your life and potential,” Jax added.

Okay, that still didn’t tell me much. “So, only oracles get to read these?”

“No, the fates are sealed until the recipient is old enough or the family decides they’re ready. Most of us get ours by the time we hit double digits.” Teryl shrugged. “But it’s really up to your parents or guardian. It’s a personal thing, so it doesn’t come up in regular conversation. They’re not known to anyone but you and anyone you choose to tell.”

Jax answered my unspoken question. “Your father would have yours or know where it is. As would the oracle who read it.”

“You both have yours?”

The men nodded. Teryl put his glass down on the coffee table and sat in my favorite chair. “You could say it’s a rite of passage. For humans, it’s a big deal to turn sixteen to drive, eighteen to graduate, and twenty-one to drink. For us, it’s a big deal to be deemed ready and worthy to know your fate.”

Now I was confused. If I was part of this, where was my fate? Better yet, why was all of this news to me?

“Why didn’t I get mine?” At twenty-seven, I had a feeling I was behind the curve with this one.

“That’s a good question,” Jax answered, his face pensive. “What would Warlow have to gain by keeping it from you? I’ve never heard of anyone not receiving one.”

If my father had it, I wasn’t about to go ask him about it. The last time I’d seen him had been at my mother’s funeral, when I’d accused him of murder. The smug bastard had smiled and tried to placate me in front of the horrified guests. A phone call or visit with him was out of the question.