This series is taking me through the elements of nature and I'm loving each one. They are so unique and the range of mythical creatures unveiling with each element is proving to be much more of a challenge than I'd ever expected. Some of these creatures will require stories of their own, and probably separate from this series but I can't tell you how much fun I've been having diving into books of old mythology. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have.
Jude Jamison is a Jesuit Inquisitor, part of the pope’s force of special
investigators. He suspects his cover has been blown as he’s been under constant
attack. Without the gargoyles his friend Evan sent along as his guardians, and
a strange ability to start fires, he’d already be dead.
Nicolai sees a gargoyle circling a smoldering building. He investigates the
rare creature and is totally unprepared for the discovery of his human mate,
lying amid the rubble. After waiting two millennia to find his mate, fate must
be laughing. A human will never survive in his world. Yet he’s unable to leave
the beautiful man behind.
Together can the two find a way to survive? Is this love’s first fire?
Excerpt:
Prologue
March
22, 2216—Café courtyard Paris, France. Mid-morning.
"Are
you sure you have to go?" Evan picked up his croissant and bit into the
flakey pastry.
"He's
my boss. When he calls, I go. He did say you and Adel weren't required to come
to Rome, in fact it almost sounded like he'd prefer you to remain in France."
Jude sipped his espresso. There was nothing quite like a spring morning in
Paris to calm the nerves.
"He
doesn't like it that I refused to come to Rome. Now he's taking it out on you
by making you go to him. Should I be wary of being attacked when you leave?"
Evan glanced about the courtyard. There were a few shoppers, but mainly the
morning was pleasant and quiet.
"No
more than usual. Besides, even he knows with Adel and all the gargoyles of
Notre Dame surrounding you, there isn't a safer person in this world,"
Jude teased.
"I
want you to take Fin with you. Regardless of what you think, you need a keeper,
Judas Jamison. If nothing else, do it for me so I know you are safe. Take Skye
too, because I know he won't be happy if you are gone and he has to stay with
us," Evan chuckled at Jude's grimace. "Pout all you want, you can
even say no if you like. I'm still sending them with you, so deal with it."
"Fine…
whatever you want, oh mighty Elemental. Your word is my command." Jude
rolled his eyes, grumbled and sipped more espresso. Although he wanted to be
mad at Evan for insisting, he really did like Fin and would appreciate the
company.
"Just
keep an eye on them while in Rome. I don't want to hear that they were crushed
while you were in a meeting with your boss."
"I
get it, keep the gargoyles safe. I won't let you down, Evan."
"Really,
it's not the gargoyles I'm worried about. I want you to stay safe. You're my friend, this fire thing is unnerving,
and nobody seems to know what's going on with you. I want you to be careful and
come back."
"I
will." Jude looked down at the table.
"I'm
serious. Promise me you'll contact us if you need anything," Evan
insisted, reaching over and taking Jude's hand.
Jude
looked up, plastering a confident smile on his face. "I promise. If there's
anything you can help with, I'll contact you right away. Besides, it's probably
going to be a quick trip and I'll be back bugging you about croissants and
peanut butter before you know it."
"I
like putting peanut butter on my croissants. Especially when they're hot, the
peanut butter just melts all over." Evan grinned, allowing him the subject
change even though he must have known Jude's issues were far from settled.
"But
you get all sticky," Jude complained. "How can you eat that and still
not get all messy?"
"Practice."
Evan laughed as Jude just shook his head.
Chapter 1
Elemental
Lore
As
written by the scribes and entombed in the Church Archives:
To date, the Church has recognized
5 types of Elemental beings:
1)
Earth, being the rarest and least-often
born. Only two known in all of Church history.
2)
Air, being the second rarest.
3)
Spirit
4)
Water
5)
Fire, being the most prevalent, most
destructive and volatile of all the beings.
No
other information is contained in the archive as to their purpose or powers.
* * * *
July
12, 2216—Present
The
distant crunch of tires on gravel should've been alarming, but it wasn't. They'd
been on the run practically from the moment they'd left Evan and Adel in
France. I hope they're all right.
Jude was the eternal worrier. He hadn't had a chance to contact them, to see if
they were being hunted as well. At first there just wasn't time, they'd needed
to stay ahead of their pursuers—now time had run out. As he lay, broken and
bleeding, he prayed that Evan was okay, but exhaustion overrode everything
else, and he felt too tired to really care.
Jude's
mind wandered aimlessly in a numb, painless haze; he'd expended way too much
energy in order to destroy the demons. He thought of Finton—last time he'd seen
him, the little sprite had swung his sword and decapitated a vile looking
creature, that'd kept coming even without its head. It must've been some sort
of zombie. Fin had been defending the entrance, but he'd eventually fallen to
their greater numbers. Usually there were just a couple of them, but this time
they just kept on coming. Jude couldn't remember where Skye had gotten to; he
just prayed the little gargoyle was okay. Evan would have his hide if either
one of them had been hurt. So tired.
It was becoming a mantra, going round and round in his weary mind.
If only I could pass out.
Jude felt as though he was waiting for something—maybe death. That particular entity must be having a busy
night since he hasn't come to collect my soul yet. Jude closed his eyes and
groaned as something sharp poked him in the back, from the rubble beneath him.
His senses registered the pain yet he was so far beyond mere sensation that
Jude's mind could barely acknowledge it.
A
decidedly masculine voice floated through the fog of Jude's thoughts. It was
deep and warm. It made him want to curl up into it and sleep for an eternity. Is this the voice of death? The sound of
flapping wings accompanied the voice and a familiar sing-song warble made him
want to smile. Ah my Skye, good, he's
okay. Jude would know Skye's song anywhere; he was still alive and
obviously close by.
"Come
on you beautiful bird, this place isn't safe for a gargoyle. You're too young
to be on your own." The voice crooned softly. Even in his less than
stellar condition, the velvety sound of it touched something deep inside Jude.
"Oh
God!" The voice shouted. Jude would've winced if he could've moved. He
felt a hand touch his arm and forehead. "What happened?" That touch
so—warm and gentle, he felt bathed in the heat of it.
The
urge, the desire was primal. A basic instinctual part of himself reached for
this other blindly. He wanted to whimper and rub himself against those fingers,
but that would take too much effort, although the aching need to do so hurt
almost more than his battered body. Jude wanted to answer the voice, but
instead he forced open his eyes. He wanted to see the face that belonged to
such a melodic voice. His gaze latched onto the most beautiful brown-black eyes
Jude had ever seen. He reached up with one hand and touched the man before him;
he sighed as peace overwhelmed him for but the fleetest second, before darkness
closed around him.
* * * *
"No!"
Nicolas Daemarkus screamed to the demolished room. The gryphon screeched,
rising up on his haunches, flapping his wings furiously.
Fate
was truly a bitch. How could that fickle woman play with him like this? Nico
had questioned the urge to follow the gargoyle when he'd first seen it circling
the abandoned building, but gargoyles were so rare these days and this creature
was way too young to be on his own. Now he couldn't be happier or more
distraught at the same time.
The
man he knelt beside was a mess of wounds and infection, blood and dirt. For all
that… he looked incredibly beautiful and fragile to Nico. The man's temperature
was cool to the touch, but then all humans tended to feel cool to Nico and his
brother. Still, for a human, he's too
warm, almost feverish. He brushed the long red hair out of the man's face,
wishing those beautiful green eyes would open again.
"My
poor little human, what's happened to you?" Nico practically whimpered
with distress. Something he hadn't done in centuries, as nothing touched his
heart anymore.
Nico
knew he needed to get the man to safety. To call the burnt out building
hazardous was an understatement; the structure barely held itself together,
still smoldering in places. He didn't know if he dared pick up his beautiful
human—he might have broken bones or internal injuries, which could be made
worse by his interference. He trembled with indecision, but he saw no other way
to do it. He had to get help for him and there'd be none if they remained here.
He carefully ran his hands along thin arms and legs. Nothing was obviously
broken.
Nico
growled, decision made. He gently slid his arms beneath the man and drew him
against his chest, finding him far too light for a human his size. He could
feel the bones poking from under practically translucent skin—far too thin, but
again his mind registered that the bones weren't broken. Thin—Nico knew how to
fix. Now, if he could just get the man to safety and get him to open his eyes.
The steady fluttering heartbeat reassured him that his prize was very much
alive and Nico intended him to stay that way.
The
gryphon flew out of what had once been a third story window after glancing out,
seeing no one below. Nico followed, clutching his precious cargo securely in
his grasp, tight against his chest to keep from jostling him. He landed on the
ground, three stories below, with the gentle grace and ease of a dancer stepping
from one room into the next. He sprinted to the car, where he strapped the guy into
the passenger's seat. Nico couldn't resist the urge to nuzzle his passenger's
neck as he secured the seatbelt across him. He smelled wonderful: like burning cedar
in a fireplace, and spice, overlaid with strong male musk. This scent spoke to
Nico, confirming what he'd known on sight. This man belonged to him—well, he
did, if he survived.
"Easy,
little one," Nico whispered more to himself than to his unconscious passenger.
His instincts were screaming to take him and claim him, but the beautiful
redhead was in no condition to satisfy the flaming lust flowing through Nico's
veins like molten lava. He adjusted himself, trying to relieve the strain on
his raging erection that pressed against the zipper of his black dress pants.
His protective instinct was the only thing keeping him from ravaging the guy on
the spot. He'd protect this human, even from himself.
"Don't
give up on me," he whispered and couldn't resist the briefest brushing of
his mouth against plush red lips. His human was beautiful, his skin soft and
pale as alabaster, with just a smattering of freckles across his high cheekbones
and nose. Nico straightened and closed the car door, then ran around to the
driver's side.
Pulling
out into the street and heading as quickly toward home as he could, Nico was
never so glad that traffic became nearly non-existent after dark, thanks to the
mandates of the Church. Even here in the heart of New York City, people were
careful about moving around after the sun went down—not that the night would
ever hold any dangers for him. He hit a button on the dashboard of the car and
called his brother.
"Doc."
"Hey
Nico, what's up?"
"I
need a favor. A friend has gotten hurt. I'm taking him home. Can you meet us
there?"
"Sure
Nico, but maybe a hospital would be a better choice?"
"No!"
Nico growled. "This is personal, Doc. Please—"
"Okay,
Nico. I'm on my way."
"Thanks,
Doc. I owe ya."
"Yeah—so
what else is new, Bro."
Nico
hung up and glanced at his passenger, reaching out and touching his face with a
shaking hand. "Please—hold on."
