Gregor (Stone Society Book 2) (16 page)

“And
just what does that have to do with me? Like I said, you know we don’t get
involved unless someone is in danger. Do you think he’s a threat to Tabitha?”

Gregor
cocked an eyebrow. “How do you know her name?”

“I
make it my business to know about anyone that comes into contact with Lillian
on more than one occasion. Tabitha has purchased several paintings from her,
but comes by often enough just to chat. Question, if she’s your mate, why is
she in bed with another man?”

The
dregs of coffee were no longer sitting well with Gregor. He tossed the cup into
the garbage. “She wants nothing to do with me, so mated or not, she has been
living her life without me in it. I intend to rectify that aspect of our
relationship and soon. For now, all I can do is vow to keep her safe. I cannot
do that here since I run the prison, so I am asking you to step in. Do what you
can to get Dupart off the street.”

“The
local police have been trying to pin him down for years. What makes you think I
can do it when they can’t?”

“Because
they don’t have Julian. I have already spoken to my cousin, and he is at your
disposal. Any information you need, he can get it. Here’s his cell phone
number.” Gregor handed Dom a business card. “I’m not asking as a service to the
King, I’m asking as a favor for myself. I will owe you one. Hell, you get
Dupart locked up, I’ll owe you however many you ask for.”

Dominic
grinned, “You have a deal. The Unholy have been too quiet for too long. I would
love to have something to fill my time other than stalking Lilly. Now that it’s
probable she’s my mate, I don’t have to keep my distance, do I?” Dom had the
same hopeful look in his eyes that Gregor knew all too well from looking in the
mirror.

“No,
you don’t,” Gregor said as the mate bond alerted them both to their women. Across
the street, the door to the art gallery opened, and Tessa and Lilly exited the
building together, arm in arm. “Now’s your chance.”

Dante
was examining the latest redhead victim when his cell phone rang. He pulled his
latex gloves off and answered. “Yo.”

Deacon
was on the other end. “Hey, Dante, we have an incident and since Dr. Sarantos
is at home, Gregor told me to call you. One of the inmates had a seizure. We
got him stabilized, but I thought you should know.”

“Do
you know if he has a history of epilepsy?” Dante was washing his hands
preparing to leave.

“No.
I was going to look through the doc’s files, but her door is locked.”

“Okay,
I will call her before heading that way. Just keep the patient calm, and strap
him down if you have to.”

Dante
hung up. When Gregor said he was going out of town, he had given Dante
Isabelle’s number for emergencies such as this. He pulled up her phone number
then hit send. “Hello?” He should have been expecting the gut check. Dante
already suspected she was his mate. Now that her voice was flowing through the
line, he was certain. “Hello? Who’s there?”

“Dr.
Sarantos, I apologize for the delay. This is Dante Di Pietro, Gregor’s brother.
He gave me your number in case there was an incident at the Pen. I am sorry to
say there is, indeed, need of my assistance with an inmate. The reason I am
calling is to find out if you have any
anticonvulsants on hand in the clinic. One of the inmates has had a
seizure.”

“Oh, do you need me to take care of it? I don’t
mind driving out there if you’re busy.” Sunshine. Her voice felt like sunshine
on a cold day washing over his body.

“No, that isn’t necessary. If you will confirm
the availability of the drug, I will be on my way.”

“Yes, there were several different doses in the
cabinet. I assume you have a key?” Sunshine was cooling off a bit.

“I do have a key. Under normal circumstances, I
would not step in when you are perfectly capable of doing the job you were
hired to do. However, when my brother tasks me with keeping you away from the
Pen during his absence, I have no choice but to comply. Personally, I have to
agree with him. Without him there to keep you safe, I prefer you stay where you
are. Now, I am needed, so I will say thank you and goodbye.”

Dante hung up before she could impart any more
discomfort to his slowly collapsing self-control. He gripped the bridge of his
nose with a thumb and forefinger, willing himself to calm the fuck down. How in
the gods’ names could a voice cause his libido to shift into high gear? Rafael
hadn’t been lying.

He found Trevor and told him where he was going.
The ride from the morgue didn’t take too long this early in the morning. He
pulled up to the back door and headed directly to the clinic. Deacon met him
and informed him there had been no further seizures. Dante nodded. What’s his
name? I want to go through his medical file.” When Deacon gave him the inmate’s
name, he said, “I’ll be right back.”

Dante pulled his keys out of his pants pocket and
found the one that would unlock Isabelle’s office. As soon as Dante stepped
through the door, he felt it. He was going to lose his breakfast. Instead of
backing out of the room, he steeled himself. Breathing in deeply, he filled his
lungs and sinuses with the glorious scent that was all Isabelle. He continued
taking his mate’s essence into his body until he could withstand being in the
room without passing out. He opened the file cabinet and quickly found the
patient’s folder. He scanned Dr. Henshaw’s notes, noticing there were no
previous illnesses. What he did find was that Henshaw had given the patient
several injections of…holy fuck. Henshaw was dosing the inmate with Unholy
blood. This wasn’t good. Wasn’t good at all. Shit, he needed to talk to Rafael.
He returned to the clinic, unlocked the medicine cabinet and found the
strongest dose of anticonvulsant he could find. After pumping a syringe-full
into the patient, he observed the inmate for half an hour. Dante told Deacon,
“Keep him strapped down for now.”

Dante went back to Isabelle’s office. Inmate files
were stacked neatly on her desk. He sat down in her chair and opened the first
one. He wasn’t shocked to find the same type of notes written in the chart. He
laid it aside and opened the next one. Every file Dante opened had the same
alarming information. What had Henshaw been up to? Was he trying to create his
own Unholy by injecting their blood into healthy patients? That must have been why
he was in the Basement when he let the Unholy get loose a couple of weeks ago. If
Isabelle had read through these files, she knew what the man had been about. Had
she mentioned it to Gregor? Dante didn’t know who to talk to first, Isabelle or
Rafael. Dammit.

He owed it to Rafael to inform him of what had
been going on, but he owed it to his mate to find out her side of the story
before he went to his brother. He once again called Isabelle.

“Dr. Di Pietro, is everything okay? Were you able
to find the medications?” Isabelle calling him by his surname was somewhat
disheartening. Did she not feel the connection? What if she felt it but didn’t
want him for a mate? Tessa didn’t want anything to do with Gregor. Had she
convinced Isabelle that all Gargoyles were bad?

“Yes, Isabelle. I found the medication, and he is
resting now. That’s not why I’m calling. I would like to come see you and chat
about some of the inmates, if you don’t mind.”

“Come see me?” His shifter hearing picked up her
heartbeat. It was speeding, but not in the way it would if she were aroused. No,
she was scared.

“I assure you, I mean you no harm, Isabelle. I also
want to check on you. I know you recently transitioned, and since Tessa isn’t
around, I thought…”

“Oh, well then, thank you. Yes, I would like the
company. Where did you want to meet?”

“Once I check in on the inmate and feel certain
he will have no further episodes, I will be headed your way. I can come by your
home, if that’s convenient.” Dante was interested in seeing what type of home
she owned. Gregor had already been there, and Dante felt a tinge of jealousy.
Not at his brother. He knew Gregor had no design on Isabelle other than as a
boss. No, Dante wanted to be the only man to enter Isabelle’s home. Was it a
modest home since she lived alone, or was it posh and ostentatious?

“I’m not home right now, but I can meet you there
in about half an hour. Will that be sufficient travel time?”

“You’re not home? Where are you? I mean, sorry.
What I meant was I can come to you, if that is more convenient.”
Dammit, calm
yourself. Don’t scare her any more than she already is.

“Oh, well that would be nice. I am at my clinic.
It’s over on…”

“I know where it is. I will be there in thirty
minutes.”

Dante gave Deacon instructions regarding the
inmate’s care. He was going to talk to Isabelle then come back to relieve
Deacon from watching the man.

Thirty minutes proved to be more than sufficient
travel time. Dante was about to knock on the door to the clinic when it was
pulled open. Had he not filled his being with her scent earlier, he might have
fallen to his knees. His mate was a dark-haired beauty with bright, chocolate eyes.
“You must be Dr. Di Pietro. I see the family resemblance.” She stepped back,
allowing him passage into the waiting area.

“I am, but please, call me Dante. You make me
feel old addressing me by my title.”

“My apologies. But you are old, are you not?
You’re a Gargoyle.” Isabelle was looking at him clinically, like she would a sample
under a microscope.

Dante’s face was impassive. “I am 563. I guess to
you I
am
old. For a Gargoyle, I am but a babe.”

Isabelle’s brown eyes were taking in his entire
six-foot-four frame. He put her at approximately five-seven. If she were lying
down, he would better be able to ascertain her height. Most bodies he observed were
in the supine position. It took him a few seconds to realize her eyes were wide
and her heartbeat was once again erratic.

“I need to ask you a question, if that’s all
right,” she stated shyly.

“Of course. What would you like to know?”

“Have you visited the Pen any time in the last
week, other than today?” He could see the wheels turning behind her beautiful
eyes. She was wondering if he was her mate.

“Yes, I have. Why do you ask?” He wanted to tell
her the truth, but he was afraid. She was gorgeous and he was… well, he was
just Dante.

“It’s just that…Tessa said I…what I mean is…why
do you use the last name Di Pietro when your brothers go by Stone?”

Dante’s heart sunk. Was she scared he was her
mate? If so, he would just have to accept the rejection should she determine him
to be less than suitable. “I use our family surname to separate myself from the
others. Too many Stones in one location makes it harder to keep up the charade
that we are not related. Now, may I ask you something?”

“Yes, of course, but why don’t we have a seat.
May I offer you something to drink?” Dante had to wonder if she was this proper
all the time. He had witnessed the whirlwind that was Tessa when he and Gregor
went to The Tavern. He couldn’t see Isabelle in a biker bar setting, but he was
all right with that. At present, she was dressed in a pair of dress slacks and
a short-sleeved sweater that accentuated her figure nicely.

“No, thank you.”

 Isabelle cocked her head to the side and asked,
“No, you don’t want to have a seat, or no, you don’t want a drink?”

His usually expressionless face softened for her.
Unconsciously, he ran his index finger down her cheek. “I would love to have a
seat, but I do not require a drink.” Isabelle shivered under his touch. Her
pupil’s dilated, and her breathing hitched. Fuck, the mate pull was affecting
her.

They sat in adjacent chairs, neither one leaning
back. Their knees were inches apart. “You had a question?” She asked him
breathlessly.

“How do you feel about Gargoyles?” He, Dante Di
Pietro, was a chicken shit.

“I, well, uh, I…” She nervously tucked a strand
of hair behind her ear.

“Never mind. I probably don’t want to know the
answer anyway. Why don’t we talk about the inmates?”

“No, I’d rather talk about you. Honestly, I’m
just a little nervous. You have to understand, until a couple of weeks ago, I
wasn’t aware Gargoyles even exist. Imagine my surprise when I found out I am
half Gargoyle. I was privy to the information for all of a few hours when I
found out my father, whom I thought was dead, is really alive. I saw a brother
I didn’t know I had transition right before my eyes. I ran into my mother whom
I haven’t seen in approximately twenty years,
and
she looks my age.
Then,
I myself begin transitioning in front of your brother who is supposed to be the
bad guy. I was told I shouldn’t talk to Gregor, or you, because your kind
ostracized one of their own when he fell in love. So when you ask how I feel
about Gargoyles, my answer would have to be conflicted.”

“Who told you not to talk to me? Your father?”
Dante would ring Jonas Montague’s fucking neck if he attempted to keep them
apart.

“No, Tessa did. She has her reasons. I’m just not
certain they are valid.”

“What do you mean?” He didn’t want to have to
tell Gregor to put a muzzle on his mate, but he would if she interfered.

“Tessa was keeping the family secrets so the
Gargoyles wouldn’t find out about us: the half-bloods. Now the secret is out of
the bag.”

“So now that the secret is out, and you know
Tessa is mated to a Gargoyle, what are your opinions on the matter? You do know
Gregor is her mate, do you not?” Dante should just come out and ask her. Again,
chicken shit.

Isabelle nodded, “I guess it’s safe for them
since she isn’t merely a human. I mean, if they have children, the offspring
will have three-quarters shifter blood, right? So the man who is so prejudiced
against humans might back off and leave them alone.”

“What are you talking about? What man?” Dante was
positive this conversation just went from bad to worse.

“Some uncle of the King’s. I didn’t catch his
name since Tessa was in a hurry to make her travel arrangements.”

Holy shit. No way. No fucking way. Dante needed
to call Gregor and have him interrogate his woman. “So if you were to find out
your mate is a Gargoyle, would you be okay with that?”

Isabelle’s hands twisted in her lap. Dante could
hear her heartbeat speeding up. He didn’t want to make her nervous, he just
wanted to know if he had a snowball’s chance in hell of finding happiness.

“Are you suggesting… you and I are…? I don’t
really have a choice, do I? Not that I have anything against you. I mean, I’m
half Gargoyle after all. I just don’t understand how everyone is on board with
the fates deciding who we are supposed to spend our life with. Look at Gregor
and Tessa. She has been fighting the bond for three years. And you, you deserve
someone who isn’t plain or…”

Dante couldn’t believe she was speaking of
herself that way. “Isabelle, you are one of the most beautiful women I have
ever met in my very long life. I’m not just saying that because of the bond
either.”