Over the next few days, Fiona existed like a phantom, barely interacting with the world as she worked and returned to her flat. Too much was happening at once, and combined with her out of whack hormones, she questioned if she could even trust her feelings.

Except one—she missed Gavin.

It took time for her to understand it. After all, what he’d disclosed about his identity had overturned her world. But, once she’d adjusted to his surprising revelation, the melancholy over his absence settled over her like a black veil. The times they’d spent together were the brightest she could remember. And although they hadn’t planned the pregnancy, he’d rolled with that surprise. He’d been adorable when he made sure she and the baby were well-fed.

And what had she done? Turned him away.

She had a new topic to focus on with her pregnancy and read up on it whenever she could. Other times, she researched gargoyles. Most of the lore she read was fiction inspired by legends of long ago—stories of protectors who guarded the earth as statues. They’d shifted when danger was present and then returned to their stone watch. From earlier investigations, she’d found a kernel of truth to myths and legends. Was it possible in Gavin’s case?

It had to be. Otherwise, she was losing her mind by envisioning men shifting into various forms in her flat.

On Thursday afternoon, her doorbell rang. When she answered it, a delivery man presented her with a dozen red roses.

After she headed inside, she read the card.

I’m sorry, Fiona. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I know you don’t want me around. But I’m hoping you’ll let me be a part of our child’s life. Can we talk when you’re ready?

Here’s a number where you can reach me the next few days.

She stared at the paper and ran her fingers over the print. Picking up her phone, she dialed. A woman answered using the name of the club Fiona didn’t recognize. It wasn’t in Inverness.

“Hi, I’m trying to reach Gavin. He plays in the Knights of Stone.”

“He’s not here right now, but I’ll let him know you called. What’s your name?”

“Fiona.”

As the woman hung up the phone, Fiona heard her mutter to someone, “Who doesn’t have a mobile phone in this day and age?”

Fiona smirked. A gargoyle shifter, perhaps. Although she still didn’t know about his world, she guessed human gadgets weren’t high on his list of must-haves.

She put the roses in a vase and sniffed their sweet scent. Her phone rang. It was Mark. Again. He’d found her number and left a message each day since she’d last seen him, and she didn’t know what to do about him. Obviously, she couldn’t tell him anything now. It would be betraying Gavin and her baby.

She’d wrestled with what to do about the situation after seeing Gavin’s other form. Although it killed her to pass up learning about what had happened to Angie, she had to think about her child and what was best for him or her. She was still coming to terms with what Gavin had revealed to her, and his parting words echoed in her mind:

You mustn’t tell anyone. You could endanger our child.

She raised her chin. She’d never do anything to hurt their baby.

Mark was suspicious about the band. When it became evident he wasn’t going to stop bothering her, she agreed to meet with him. Maybe she could convince him he was wrong.

Friday morning, she walked to a cafe to meet Mark on her way to the office. She paced before the brick building and glanced up at the clouds. Gavin said he could fly. Would she ever see him soaring overhead?

When Mark arrived, they sat at a booth. She smoothed her slacks over her legs although no wrinkles existed.

“Would you like something to eat?” he asked.

“No.” She shook her head. “Tea is fine.” Although she was eating for two, she’d wait until she was alone. The sooner this conversation was over with, the better.

When the server arrived, Mark ordered a coffee, and she ordered tea.

“Decaf,” she added, almost wincing as she heard the word.

After the server left, he glanced at her. “No caffeine? I don’t know how I’d get through the day without it.”

It wasn’t something she was looking forward to, but she was trying to follow all the recommendations for a healthy pregnancy. How she was going to tolerate the next several months without caffeine was something she’d worry about another time. For now, she had to focus on getting out of this arrangement without raising suspicions. And, her pregnancy was not his business. She hadn’t told anyone yet besides Gavin. Technically, she hadn’t told him either, but he’d found out.

“Just trying to be healthier,” she said. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll start going to the gym more.”

That was utter bullshit with the pregnancy-related exhaustion that had attached to her like a weighted vest. From what she’d read, that might pass in the second trimester. Until then, it was enough to keep up with her walks to the office.

After more small talk, he said, “You’ve been with him.”

The hair on the back of her neck rose. He hadn’t phrased it like a question, but rather a declaration. “Are you watching me?”

He added another spoonful of sugar into his mug. “What have you learned?”

Her lip curled with revulsion, which she quickly straightened. She picked up a sugar packet and flipped it in her hand, a gesture to avoid eye contact. His directness was off-putting. She didn’t want to associate with him any longer.

She added milk to her tea and took a sip. The bitter taste wasn’t at all like the tea she loved, but she resisted making a face. Her goal was to remain calm and not reveal anything that would endanger their baby.

She leaned back against the booth and said, “Nothing. None of the rumors have any truth to them. People must have created those stories to get their kicks. Who knows—it might have been someone spinning a publicity stunt.” Damn, she was babbling in her nervousness. She just wanted out. “I’m done with this investigation. It’s a dead end, and I have other projects to work on.”

He assessed her in a way that unnerved her. She resisted squirming. As someone who studied people for truthfulness in the same way he was skewering her now, she wouldn’t let his probing stare unsettle her.

“You found something out.” His tone was self-assured as if he’d confirmed the truth before she answered.

“What?” Her mouth fell open as she stared at him. “Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

“I did, but I know you’re hiding something.” He tapped his lip. “You’ve fallen for him. Is that why you’re trying to cover it up?”

“Listen,” she began as she struggled for a steady tone. “I don’t like being ignored nor being accused of things. This conversation is over. Our deal is off.” She rose from the booth and threw a few pounds on the table to cover her tea.

As she walked away, she focused on keeping her pace steady although every molecule in her body screamed at her to get the hell away from him. The last thing she wanted him to see was how nervous she was. Would he grab her? Confront her outside?

After she exited the café, she quickened her steps mindful that he might follow. Only once she crossed the street did she turned back. He stood outside the café and watched her as he spoke to someone on the phone. Shite. Who was on the other end of that call?

This wasn’t the first time that Fiona had taken on more than she should. Her investigative nature had landed her in many a precarious situation. This time, the implications seemed to have more dire consequences. It wasn’t just her life that might be in jeopardy, but those of who she loved. It might be biologically driven, but she’d do anything to protect her baby. Endure any sacrifice for his or her safety.

And with Gavin, could it be love? It was definitely something. Without a doubt, she’d grown to care for Gavin. Although their relationship had started out satiating pure lust, it had developed into something more genuine. Enduring. Deeper than any connection she’d ever experienced, even though he wasn’t even human. And neither was her child—not one-hundred percent, anyway. She already loved her baby and would do anything for him or her. Could she also love Gavin knowing that he was different?

Ah, well, she might have screwed it all up by pushing him away and getting herself into this precarious situation with Mark.

By the time she reached her office building, she knew what she had to do. She had to tell Gavin everything. As much as he might hate her for it, she had to be truthful with him. He’d revealed himself to her, trusting her with his secrets. Didn’t she owe him the same?

---

Work kept her busy. All Fiona wanted to do when she returned home from work was rest. She’d order dinner and settle in at home with a hot bath.

She picked up some fish and chips, the scent of the fried food triggering her hunger, which was unpredictable. Either food turned her off or she was ravenous. During her walk home along the river, she picked at the chips. They were almost gone when she entered her building.

When she opened the door, she gasped and dropped the bag on a side table. She walked around her living room, taking in what was off. The flat wasn’t trashed like someone had overturned all the furniture in a search for valuables, but it was the little things that only she would notice. The way the pillows had been rearranged was slightly off. How her files on her desk were askew. Her organizational habits bordered on compulsive with the way she placed items to be completely perpendicular, so to find more than one thing off balance triggered her alarm. It was too much to be a coincidence driven by her being in a rush or knocking something off center. Someone had been in here. By the way the back of her neck prickled, she was certain of it.

In her bedroom, she opened her bureau drawers. They’d been rifled through as well.

Damn. What should she do—call the police? Maybe. First, she needed to talk to Gavin. She had to explain everything. Could he be in danger?

Mark had to be behind the break in. The reason was clear—it was because she refused to reveal the information she’d learned about Gavin and his brothers. If she wasn’t going to give up the information willingly, he’d take it another way. What kind of situation had she gotten herself into? Gotten Gavin into? And their child?

Oh shite. Gavin’s note was on the table mentioning the baby. She ran into the loo. The pregnancy test was still on her counter. She’d kept it there, partially to remind herself that it was real, and she hadn’t dreamed it all up. That, too, had been moved. Whoever had been in here had seen it and knew she was pregnant.

A cold shiver crept up her spine. The invasion of her personal space felt like the walls were squeezing her tight. She ran out of her flat and gulped fresh air. Tilting her head back, she glanced up at the sky. The sun hung low as it had started its descent and orange pierced through the charcoal colored clouds.

Although she’d already left a message, she phoned the club once again.

The same woman answered. After Fiona identified herself, the woman said, “I think he’s here somewhere.”

Fiona paced in front of a park bench. An eternity later, someone picked up the phone.

“Fiona?”

She exhaled. It was Gavin. The sound of her name in his whiskey brogue instantly doused the anxiety that had taken every nerve hostage.

“Aye, it’s me, Gavin.”

“Is something wrong?” In a lower tone, he added, “Is it the baby?”

“The baby’s fine,” she said to ease his worry. “Thank you for the roses. You’re right, we need to talk.”

“Oh good, Fiona. I know I frightened you. I’m not used to showing people—well, you know—and I probably didn’t prepare you. Can I come to your place later tonight?”

“Well.” She bit her lip. “I don’t want to stay there.”

“Why not?”

“My flat was just broken into. I haven’t called the police. I thought we should talk first.”

“What? Are you all right? Who would do that?” Gavin’s phrases were clipped.

“I’m fine. I’ll explain everything later.” She tried to keep her voice steady while a part of her was edged on panic. Someone had sifted through her things. The violation of her privacy was pervasive. She didn’t even want to think about sleeping in her flat any time soon.

“Fiona, is there something you’re not telling me?”

There was indeed. She had to figure out how to explain her conversations with Mark. It put her in an awful light. Although she’d never told him anything, she’d considered it for information on her friend.

“We’ll talk tonight,” Fiona said.

“Where are you now?”

She’d clearly failed at keeping the worry from her tone. Something triggered him. She could tell he wasn’t buying her false sense of calm.

“I’m near my flat. I’ll book a room nearby and then go back and grab some things. I’ll leave a message at the club, so you’ll know where I am.”

“I’m coming to you now.”

“But, Gavin. What about the show?”

“Let me worry about that later. My primary concern is you. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m not going on stage until I’m sure that the two of you are safe.”

“Meet me in the Victorian Market.” With people around her, she’d feel safer.

After she ended the call, she replayed the conversation. A part of her thought she might have overreacted by calling him because he was now leaving his show to rush to her aid. What she had to say could wait. It wasn’t as if anything would change in the next couple of hours, right?

Another part was warmed by his protective side. The fact that he’d drop everything to ensure she and the baby were safe comforted her like nothing else ever had. He’d take care of them both. He’d be a good father.

After she booked a hotel, she returned home. She put the long cold fish and chips in the fridge, having lost her appetite. About twenty minutes later, she left her flat with an overnight bag and trekked downtown. After a minute or so, a black van swerved up beside her so quickly she jumped away on the pavement.

The back door of the van flew open. Mark was in the backseat. His eyes were dark with danger. Her heartbeat rocketed up to the charcoal clouds overhead. She spun and broke into a run. Before she made any headway, shocks vibrated through her body. He’d incapacitated her somehow. As her legs gave way beneath her, he dragged her into the van.

“I have to go,” Gavin told his brothers backstage. “Someone broke into Fiona’s flat, and I need to go check on her.”

Although Gavin had been brooding about her rejecting him for the past few days, hearing the fear in her voice snapped him out of it. She might be in danger.

“Understood,” Lachlan said. “Go. We’ll take care of everything here.”

“Thanks, mate.” Gavin said. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Keep us posted,” Bryce added.

He appreciated his brothers covering for him and not giving him a hard time. They all had mates and understood the need to protect.

Is that what Fiona was—Gavin’s mate? With each moment he’d spent with her, the certainty of it became clearer, like a cloud passing from the face of the sun, revealing the shining orb.

Gavin hurried out of the club, avoiding talking to anyone. Someone was always ready to chit-chat—from the staff to some regulars who were getting an early start before the show. Gavin couldn’t stop for his usual conversations with them.

“Someone’s in a hurry,” a woman said.

Once outside, he found a hidden spot behind a building where he cloaked himself and shifted to winged form. He hadn’t even had a chance to explain this part of his magic to Fiona. Perhaps he shouldn’t have started with his stone form, but it wasn’t as intimidating as his gargoyle one. What would happen if she saw him that way? Not in this human form that humans seemed to appreciate, but a gray creature with distorted features and leather-like skin. She’d already cringed at his immobile statue form and asked him to leave. It was funny that someone who studied the supernatural freaked out on seeing a gargoyle. Had she never come across them? Their stories were likely only told as part of myths and legends, just like the one of their concerts on the Isle of Stone would be one day.

If not completely forgotten.

As he soared into Inverness, he kept watch for Fiona below. Pedestrians walked together in clusters. Sounds of their conversations and the city’s traffic reached up to him. He ignored the groups to focus on the people walking alone, specifically one with fiery hair and the womanly gait that was imprinted on his mind.

He followed the river north and headed in once he approached her flat. A woman rushed ahead on the pavement below. She had a large black bag slung over her shoulder. A breeze from the river ruffled her red hair around like a siren’s aura.

Fiona.

Relief wrapped around him like the warmth of his wings when he enclosed them around himself to brace against the winds. As he descended, he searched for a location where he could shift and uncloak himself so as not to startle her or any passersby.

A black van pulled up beside her. Someone grabbed her and pulled her inside it.

Gavin’s blood pumped with fury, and his vision clouded with a reddish hue. He roared as he descended, heading for her. He envisioned stopping the van and tossing it. He’d destroy it and anyone in it who’d threatened her.

But, Fiona was in there. He couldn’t react without thinking and hurt her or his child.

He had to come up with a plan to get to her safely without harming her in the process. Who knew who was in the van, but it had to be at least two people—the driver and the person in the back seat who’d snatched Fiona. If they were armed, Gavin was fucked. He had to think.

As he followed the van driving away from Fiona’s neighborhood, he communicated to his brothers.

Fiona has been taken!

Shite, Lachlan said. How did you find out?

I saw it happen. I’m following them now.

Give us your location. We’ll come to you.

We’re leaving her neighborhood now, heading west. I’ll contact you when I have more of a sense of where they’re going.

As Gavin followed them from the city, the densely packed gray and tan roofs gave way to the more isolated homes surrounded by swatches of green meadows and brown fields. Where the hell were they taking her?

Likely. They’d taken her against her will. What they planned to do with her wasn’t something they’d want witnessed.

Miles passed before the black van turned off the main road and headed down a more secluded one that was little more than a dirt stretch. Green fields rolled in all directions, and mountains loomed in the distance. The van parked in front of a gray, rectangular block of a building, nondescript and far from any other structures. Odd. No, more than that—disturbing. Two other cars were parked there. Gavin notified his brothers of the location as best he could, and then he descended.

Three men exited the vehicle. One was the bloke who had been talking to Fiona at the club. Gavin swore under his breath. That bastard had been up to no good; it hadn’t just been jealousy poisoning Gavin’s mind.

The men glanced around as if making sure they weren’t watched. Gavin recoiled, but remembered he was cloaked in the sky. If they were human, they wouldn’t see him. Since they didn’t appear to notice him hovering, he figured that was the case. And since he hadn’t scented any other supes, it was a safe assumption.

One of the captors dragged Fiona out. Gavin yearned to yank the man’s arm from the socket, yet at the same time Gavin’s heart fluttered at seeing Fiona alive. She wobbled as they led her from the van. He peered at her captors to see if any had weapons readily accessible. None were apparent, but they could easily be pulled out of pockets or from under shirts. The driver opened the door of the building.

Gavin envisioned surging down and destroying each of them before grabbing Fiona and flying her to safety. He could easily take on three humans. Once again, the threat of any hidden weapons prevented him. And with his brothers on the way, they could better subdue the men and safely retrieve Fiona. The two cars parked at the warehouse could be for the two men in the vehicle, or others who were inside. At a minimum, Gavin calculated three men, and at most, thirteen.

Although it killed him to watch them lead her inside, he had to follow the safest option.

They’re bringing her into this building. It might be some kind of warehouse.

While Gavin waited for his brothers, he landed and scanned the exterior to see what else he could learn. No windows afforded him a peek inside. A prickling sensation aggravated the back of his neck.

Movement from behind made him turn. A man sprayed silver particles into Gavin’s face. He choked on the intrusion that filled his lungs and blinked through the shimmer that blinded him.

Silver. Fuck.

The metallic mist broke through his gargoyle magic that shielded him. He was no longer cloaked. The silver gleamed on him like a searchlight tracking an intruder.

“Invisibility doesn’t trick our sensors,” the bastard taunted.

Gavin could barely make out the whereabouts of the figure before him. He hollered and reached out but stumbled forward. The man raised a weapon in front of Gavin’s chest. Fuck, was it a gun?

Vibrations rocked through Gavin’s veins like miniature lightning bolts and shock waves combined. His muscles didn’t work. As he crashed to the ground, he pictured Fiona. How the fuck could he help her now?