Jasper (The Stone Society Book 6) Read online

  Jasper

  Stone Society Book 6

  By Faith Gibson

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction.

  Copyright © 2016 by Faith Gibson

  Published by Faith Gibson

  Editor: Jagged Rose Wordsmithing

  First edition: February 2016

  Cover design: Simply Defined Art

  Photography: Furious Fotog

  Model: Caylan Hughes

  Stock photo: 123RF

  ISBN: 978-0-996366441

  This book is intended for mature audiences only.

  Dedication

  To my son, “the boy”. I knew you were “different” when you were very young, and I couldn’t have cared less or loved you more. I am so proud of the man you’ve become.

  Acknowledgements

  My writing posse: Alex, Kendall, Jen, and Nikki – thank you for taking the most important book I’ve ever written and giving it that little something extra.

  My beta readers: Sharon B, Theresa M, Shannon P, Candy R, Tanya R, and Lita T, your input is always invaluable

  Golden Czermak, from a brief conversation, you made my dream cover come true. You are truly golden.

  Caylan Hughes, thank you for being my Jasper. No one else would have done.

  Last, but definitely not least, the man for being my best friend and always having my back.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Epilogue

  Cast of Characters

  Coming Soon

  About the Author

  Other Works by Faith Gibson

  Prologue

  Northern Ireland

  1594

  The once lush green land was now colored red. Bodies were strewn haphazardly, unmoving from where they’d been slain. Phelam O’Donnell wiped his claymore on the tunic of a fallen Englishman before sliding it home in the sheath at his hip. “Phelam,” a deep voice sounded from behind him. He turned to find the Chieftain’s second in command walking toward him.

  “Aye, Bran,” he responded.

  “The O’Donnell wishes a word with ya.”

  “Aye,” Phelam said a second time. He followed his older brother to their father’s tent. When he entered, he inclined his head in respect to the man who was both his father and leader.

  “Athair, ya wish to see me?” Phelam stood at attention until his father waved his hand.

  “Phelam, my boy, ya did well today. Ya do well every day. ‘Tis why I have a mission for ya. The O’Neill is calling for our help, but I keen even with the likes of ya fighting for his cause, it won’t be enough. We might have won the battle this day, but a new day is dawning. The cannons we have secured are beyond our experience. I need ya to infiltrate the enemy and find out all ya can.”

  Even though the O’Donnell wasn’t Phelam’s biological father, he had treated him fairly ever since Phelam’s own father sold him to the man standing before him. Phelam would do anything Seamus asked of him. He and the O’Donnell both knew the English had more weapons and soldiers than did the clans of their land. Still, he would set out and gain any knowledge he could. “I’ll leave right away,” he said, inclining his head before taking his leave.

  Phelam returned to the battlefield in search of the largest fallen enemy he could find. Once he found someone comparable to his own size, he swapped out his clothing with that of the other man. It was a tight fit, but it would have to do. He seized the weapons and wrapped the holster around his waist. He strapped his sword across his shoulder and took off through the forest toward the enemy camp.

  As he walked, Phelam’s thoughts drifted back to when his athair, Colm O’Hearn, sold him to the O’Donnell. He was fourteen years old and just coming into his body. Being the youngest male in their family, Phelam had watched his older brothers with a bit of envy, ready for the day when he would transform into the Gargoyle instead of the scrawny boy. He did his best to emulate them in most every way. When it came to bedding lasses, he had no interest. What did interest him was the lad from the neighboring land they shared a loch with. He was also a Gargoyle who had yet to transition for the first time. Phelam couldn’t help the way his body reacted when he saw the lad shed his clothes.

  One day, Phelam arrived at the loch just as the lad was walking into the water. His cock sprang to life at the sight of all that pale skin. Instead of waiting for the throbbing to subside, Phelam hid behind a tree and stroked his length while watching the lad swim. Twigs and leaves crunched behind him as the lad’s brother walked up behind Phelam. When the brother saw the object of Phelam’s desire, he grabbed Phelam by the collar and dragged him to his athair’s home. His athair who happened to be King of their Clan.

  Phelam was thrown into a dark room until his own athair arrived. The King demanded Phelam be executed for such a disgraceful action toward his youngest son. Colm promised he would take care of it and hauled Phelam from the King’s home. Phelam was lucky in that his athair was a greedy man. Killing Phelam would lose him not only a worker on his lands, but also a warrior in later years. Instead of his neck meeting with a sword, Phelam found himself at the feet of an Irish military man. Seamus O’Donnell not only took in the lad, but trained him alongside his other sons to be a great fighter. He taught him to read and write, as well as speak the language of the Scots.

  To that day, the O’Donnell had no idea he adopted a Gargoyle. To that day, Phelam had not looked upon another male body with lust in his eyes. The Gargoyles were destined to have only one mate, and Phelam resigned himself to the fact he would never have his. The only thing he would have was his fighting.

  Using his shifter abilities, Phelam was able to get close to the enemy without being seen or heard. Even wearing the enemy’s clothing, it would be near impossible to blend in with the Englishmen what with his bright red hair and Irish brogue. So, he opted to blend into the forest, watching and listening
from a distance.

  Once he felt he had the necessary information to help his clan, Phelam returned to camp and relayed everything he’d learned. By that time, the O’Neill had combined their forces, but it still wasn’t enough. Phelam watched as most of his family was cut down in battle. The O’Neill surrendered, but not before Phelam had no one left to call his clan.

  Being a Gargoyle, he couldn’t be killed unless another of his kind took his head. Granted, there were a couple of poisons that could take down a shifter, but that knowledge was known only by his kind. Under the cover of night, Phelam slipped away from his homeland and began a journey that would start a new chapter in his very long life.

  Chapter One

  Present Day

  2047

  Eight large Gargoyles grabbed their swords and faced off. Jasper paired up with Urijah. Sword training should be a balm to his spirit, but it brought back painful memories of his past. Jasper’s mind drifted back to those days in Ireland where he was fighting for his people. The longer they sparred, the more lost in the past he became. Jasper was not practicing with Uri; he was on the battlefield, swift and fierce. His movements were graceful yet deadly. The striking of metal on metal powered his body; the blood spilling at his feet fueled his beast. He was lost in the memory until someone yelling his name brought him back to the present. The battlefield faded, and Dante’s property came into focus. When Jasper dropped his sword to his side, his chest was heaving. Seven pairs of eyes were locked on him. Uri’s held a look of amusement. “Someone’s been holding out on us.”

  Jasper wasn’t ready to share his past with his fellow Goyles, even if they accepted him for who he was. “I might have seen battle once or twice,” was all the explanation he gave.

  Uri clapped him on the shoulder and said, “I’d say you have. That was impressive.”

  The others were making their way to put away their swords when Connor called out to Dante, “Da, you should answer your phone.”

  Dante handed his sword to Dane and jogged toward the house. Jasper helped Uri stow the swords in Dante’s garage before grabbing a bottle of water. As he was pulling his shirt back on, a chill ran up his spine. If he didn’t know better, he’d say Trevor was close by. He was walking up the steps to the deck when Deacon stuck his head out the back door. “Jas, you better get in here.”

  Jasper entered the living room, and Deacon explained what was happening. “Trevor called Dante, says he’s being followed. He’s coming down the driveway now.”

  Jasper ran out the front door and down the steps. He didn’t care if the others were watching. Trevor was already out of his car and talking to Dante. Jasper asked his mate, “Were you followed?” Without giving him time to answer, he pulled Trevor to him, hugging him close. Gods, it felt like heaven having his mate in his arms. When Trevor didn’t answer, Jasper backed off and gently grasped his face, looking him over.

  “I think so. There was a black SUV that got behind me once I was on this road,” Trevor finally answered, only he was looking at Dante as he spoke.

  “Jasper, why don’t you check it out?” Dante suggested.

  Jasper started to object, not wanting to be away from Trevor. Dante cocked an eyebrow, indicating Jasper should go have a look. Jasper didn’t argue; instead, he took off running down the driveway, trusting Dante’s sixth sense that he should be the one to go investigate.

  When he knew Trevor couldn’t see him, Jasper kicked into his shifter’s speed. As he neared the gate, he slipped off into the woods so he could observe the stranger without being seen himself. A black SUV was idling at the edge of the driveway, his window down. Seeing his ex-lover Craig a few weeks ago had been like a paper cut, shallow and annoying. Seeing the male sitting in the vehicle was like a knife cutting through Jasper’s core, ripping him from one end to the other. Before he could approach, the SUV drove off. Jasper took a few minutes to control his beast. It wouldn’t do to have Trevor see him fully phased and pissed. He walked back to the house, not allowing his mind to return to the past. When he was inside the house, Jasper took a long look at Trevor before turning to Dante.

  Dante asked, “Did you see who it was?”

  Jasper nodded, “It was Theron.”

  “Who’s Theron?” Deacon asked.

  “Alistair’s son,” Dante responded. “Matthew, will you please occupy Connor with a video game? He has a new system, and I’m afraid I’m not very good at it.” Dante motioned for the others to return outside. Jasper wanted to hold onto Trevor, but he couldn’t. Not now. When they were outside, Dante asked, “Why is Theron following Trevor?”

  Trevor was glad they went outside. He had been right when he told Jasper he was in a league of badasses. The testosterone in Dante’s living room proved it. He stepped closer to Dante, away from Jasper. The photos of Jasper with his old lover were still fresh in his mind. He had gone out of town to get away from the gorgeous redhead. Now, Trevor was back, and Jasper looked like he’d seen a ghost. He shoved his hands in his pockets but kept his eyes on Jasper’s face. He was waiting for Jasper to admit he and this Theron were lovers. Why else would a stranger be following Trevor all across Georgia?

  “A very long time ago, my path crossed with Theron’s,” Jasper said to the men standing around. They obviously knew who Theron and Alistair were. Trevor, however, didn’t have a clue.

  “Crossed paths how?” one of the badasses asked.

  Jasper didn’t immediately answer. He cut his eyes to Trevor, but that was all the indication he needed to know Jasper and Theron had a past together.

  “That’s all right, Jasper. You can tell them,” Trevor said. “Please excuse me.” Trevor didn’t wait on anyone to give him permission to leave the conversation. He entered the house and stopped when he got to the living area. The small boy Dante called Connor said, “First room on the left down the hallway.”

  Okay, that was weird. He found the room he was looking for and went in, closing the door behind him. Trevor closed the toilet lid and sat down, elbows to his knees, head in his hands. He probably should have stayed outside and listened to Jasper’s explanation, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want to think about Jasper with anyone else, especially another one of the badass bunch. Seeing him with Craig had been enough to convince him that he and Jasper didn’t belong together. Trevor knew he wasn’t much to look at. He’d had one failed attempt at a relationship. If he couldn’t make it work with someone more like him, how did he ever think he could be with someone like Jasper?

  After a while, Trevor heard voices in the living room. He knew he was acting like a child hiding out in Dante’s bathroom, but he couldn’t handle being around Jasper. There was a knock on the door, and Dante said, “He’s gone. You can come out.”

  Trevor rose and took a deep breath. He blew it out and opened the door, fully expecting Dante to be in the hall. Instead, his boss’s voice came from the living room. He was chatting with Connor about the video game. Connor stood from the couch and motioned for Dante to lean down. When he did, Connor placed their foreheads together. When the child pulled away, Dante ruffled his hair, and Connor walked toward Trevor. He stopped in front of him and did some weird thing where he placed his fist on his chest and bowed his head. And Trevor thought himself strange.

  Dante said, “I think it’s time you and I had a chat. Would you like something to drink?”

  Trevor did indeed need a drink, but he wasn’t going to get sloshed and make a fool of himself. “I’m good, thanks.”

  Dante sat in the arm chair and waited for Trevor to have a seat. “First off, I want you to know we will protect you from Theron.”

  “We, as in the league of badasses?” Trevor laughed, but he wasn’t joking.

  “We are not a league, but a clan. What I’m about to tell you is going to be hard to believe at first, but once I finish, I hope you will forgive me for keeping the truth from you for so long. The men who were here earlier are part of my Clan, the Stone Society. The warden is my brothe
r. Rafael Stone, the architect, is also our brother, along with Sinclair who lives on the West Coast. We have many cousins as well as clan members we also call brother. We are primordial beings put here to protect humans from not only monsters such as the Unholy, but from each other. I think it will be easier for me to show you what I am, rather than telling you.”

  Dante moved to the middle of the room and removed his shirt. Trevor held his breath as Dante’s top canines lengthened over his bottom lip. When he held his hands out, his fingernails became talon-like extensions. Trevor didn’t have time to grasp what he was seeing as a pair of wings unfurled from behind his boss. Dante didn’t give Trevor time to examine the wings. He retracted them just as quickly as he turned them loose. Trevor needed to see them again to be sure he had really seen a pair of leathery looking wings. Holy fuck! Dante replaced his shirt before sitting back down. “That is the extent of our shifting, or what we call phasing. I come from a long line of Gargouille, or as the modern generation would have it, Gargoyle.” Dante cocked his head to the side and smiled. “Isabelle is home.”

  Trevor didn’t hear anything, but if Dante said she was home, he believed his boss. His mind was still back on show and tell.

  “There is so much more I need to tell you, but I want to introduce you to my mate first.” Dante stood, and opened the side door. A very pretty woman came in and wrapped her arms around Dante’s neck. When they started kissing, Trevor looked away. “Isabelle, I’d like you to meet Trevor.”

  “Trevor, it’s a pleasure. I’ve heard so much about you,” Isabelle said softly.

  “And I didn’t know you existed before today,” he responded. “Sorry, I guess that was rude.”

  “The truth is never rude, Trevor. I take it you’re having the talk?” she asked Dante.

  “Yes, I haven’t told him much, but I did phase. Trevor didn’t pass out, so I think the hard part has passed,” Dante said with a wink. Dante winked? That was so out of character for the medical examiner. So was the smile plastered to his face.