Gargoyle's Fated Defender

Chapter One

“Ronen, what in the name of all that is holy are you doing?”

Cassiel leaned against the doorframe of the weapons room, located deep underground in their Boston lair.

Ronen glanced up from where he sat, holding an etched steel dagger.

The blade had been a gift from Archangel Michael at the ceremony for his promotion to Lead Warrior Defender.

In the other hand, he gripped a sharpening stone, his knuckles white from clutching it for so long.

Cassiel crossed her arms, staring at him with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. With a sigh, he set the weapon down on the oak workbench that was scarred from decades of use.

“I would think that was obvious.” Ronen winced at his terse words. “I apologize. I didn’t intend for that to come out the way it did.”

She snorted. “You’ll have to work harder than that to offend me. After almost two centuries of being a slayer, the snark is sharper than that blade you’ve been working on.”

The tension left Ronen’s shoulders. She had a point.

He’d only been part of the warrior gang for about a year, and the first thing he’d noticed was what a bunch of smart-asses they all were.

Of course, he imagined the intense stress of battling both rogue demons and gargoyles who’d turned to the dark side could do that to even the most resilient supernatural creature.

He had his own reasons for anxiety, however, ones for which he was too proud to confess.

Ronen cleared his throat, then chuckled. “You’ve got a point.” He held up his dagger. “No pun intended.”

Cassiel gritted her teeth, then shook her head. “Yikes. You’re gonna have to up your game if you want to keep up. We’ve had decades to hone our skills, to perfect that cutting edge.”

Ronen groaned. “That was terrible.”

They held each other’s gaze for barely a few seconds before they burst into laughter.

“All right, all right,” she said with a grin. “Now, maybe you can enlighten me on what you’ve been doing in here for several hours? There’s more to life than weapons.”

“Not for me,” he mumbled. Ronen pushed off the stool he’d been perched on, then seated the blade in the sheath attached to the belt on his waist. “Don’t worry, I’m fine.

It’s just that everything has been eerily quiet for the past few months, ever since Danny was rescued and Mal took him away.

It has me on edge.” He shot up his hand, palm out.

“Please. No more bad puns. My heart can’t take it. ”

Cassiel gave him a wry smile. “Duly noted.” She jerked her head toward the hallway. “Let’s grab some coffee in the kitchen. The sentinel is guarding the entrance, and most of the others are patrolling the skies. We should have the room to ourselves.

“Sure, sounds good.”

He was terrible at masking his emotions, a trait that most gargoyle warriors shared. However, his introduction into the slayer order had been more brutal than most.

They made their way to the lair’s large kitchen, the uneven walls patched over with shotcrete, the same as the rest of the maze that made up their Boston headquarters.

As was true with all the gargoyle lairs, they’d been built beneath churches and missions, sacred places for them to protect.

Rarely were their locations breached by shadow gargoyles, but they’d always been successful in fighting them off.

Which circled him back to why there hadn’t been any trouble in either Boston or the other lairs around the world.

“What kind of coffee are you up for?” said Cassiel as they entered the room. “I’m all about the vanilla hazelnut lattes these days.”

The large, commercial-grade espresso machine had been installed only recently.

With the day-to-day slayer life becoming so mundane, Cassiel had immersed herself in the joys of gourmet coffee creations.

He almost told her not to worry about it—he’d simply have a cup of black, brewed coffee—but decided not to disappoint her.

After all, that’s the reason he’d been in the weapons room.

Sharpening, rearranging, cataloging. Every manner of activity that didn’t really need to be handled, yet he’d done them anyway.

“Umm… not a hazelnut fan, but the vanilla part is fine.”

She smiled. “You got it.”

As she set about making the fancy drink, Ronen pondered whether he wanted to divulge any of his inner turmoil.

Out of all the slayers, she was the one he felt the closest to.

He was a long way off from fulfilling his kill quota, so meeting his mate anytime soon was off the table.

And any gargoyles he’d formed attachments to hadn’t been recruited to the Shadow Slayer order.

Most days, it was only himself he had to turn to for advice.

He grunted. Unfortunately, his inner therapist had permanently gone on vacation.

Cassiel glanced over her shoulder, speaking above the hiss of the steam wand. “I’m going as fast as I can. You can’t hurry perfection.”

“Huh?” Ronen took a sec to realize what she meant. “Oh, sorry. No, that wasn’t about the coffee.”

“That’s a relief,” she said as she wiped down the nozzle. “I was going to get snippy.“ She brought both cups over, then sat across from him. “Here. Don’t you dare tell me it isn’t the best coffee you’ve ever had. I’m not in the mood for a battle.”

His lips twitched. “Liar.”

She shrugged, then took a sip of her coffee. “Yeah, well. I’m practicing in case everything truly has been resolved. I might need to expand my horizons.” She tapped her chin with one finger. “I wonder how difficult it is to make scones?”

“Sorry,” Ronen said. “Can’t help you there.”

He wrapped his palms around the mug. The warmth wasn’t what he craved. While it might only be symbolic, what he needed was an anchor.

Cassiel leaned back in the utilitarian metal chair. Unlike the rest of their underground home, it was modern and practical. They guarded more than the holy relics. Antiques and historic pieces were also housed at various lairs. Humans couldn’t be trusted with much of anything that held true value.

“So,” she began. “Care to tell me what’s eating at you besides boredom?”

Ronen dragged his fingers through his long hair. “I dunno. Boredom mostly, I guess.”

Cassiel let out a small growl. “Now who’s the liar? Out with it. You’ve been getting on my nerves for weeks. And I really, really don’t want to start making scones.”

He couldn’t argue with that. “Fair enough.” Perhaps he could gradually work his way up to the truth.

“What do you think’s going to happen if the rogues don’t find any more relics?

It seems as though the most important ones have been retrieved and hidden away.

I know I’m not the only one who hasn’t met their kill quota. ”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that, too.” She hooked her elbow across the back of her chair. “I was talking to Zeke the other day. You know, when he rushed here to help deliver those twins?”

Ronen shrugged. “I guess. I’ve been out flying a lot at night.”

Cassiel rolled her eyes. “Anyway, he was here, and we chatted for a while before he had to get back to Archer and their kid. When everyone got together for a visit, Dante took Zeke and Mal aside and said that Michael had been hinting at a meeting. Zeke got the impression it would be taking place soon, and they should all be prepared.”

Ronen frowned. “Prepared for what? If there’s imminent danger, shouldn’t we have intel now rather than later? It sounds more like the Most High and archangels are wrapping things up.”

“Yeah, sure.” Cassiel snorted. “I doubt the rogue demons decided to take their toys and go home. There’s always been a battle between good and evil.”

Ronen clenched his fists, keeping them out of sight under the table.

“Right. But not this extreme. None of the dark forces has ever dared go after the holy relics, to try and completely take over the earth realm. They’ve always followed the rules.

Humans are fair game, and we’re here to protect them. Case closed.”

Cassiel sighed. “Yes, of course. That’s not what I mean.

I’m talking about Lucifer and the rogues still being at odds.

No one’s ever discussed it in the open, but Lucifer has to be humiliated at being openly defied like this.

” She chuckled. “Can you imagine how embarrassing this must have been when Lucifer actually had to go to Michael and ask for help?”

“True.” Ronen nodded. “That would’ve been a perfect fly on the wall moment.”

They both shared an easy laugh, the emotion strange after the heaviness of his thoughts as of late. Like the taste of sweet when you’re expecting salt.

With another sigh, Cassiel drained her cup, then set it down. “Not gonna lie. I’m bored as fuck. I was thinking, until we get an update, maybe we could stage a gargoyle practice battle. I seriously need to stretch my wings, work on my slicing technique.”

Ronen arched his eyebrows. “You’re already the slice and dice queen. I can’t imagine your blade work getting even more vicious.”

“Why, thank you.” She waggled her eyebrows. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

Ronen slapped his hand to his forehead. “No comment. But seriously, I think a practice battle is a great idea. The only time I’m able to forget is when I’m—“

Ronen pressed his lips together as Cassiel’s eyes widened. He was definitely becoming too comfortable around her. Or, maybe it was time he let his own demons loose. He rubbed the back of his neck. Especially since it seemed like more than ever he wouldn’t be meeting his mate any century soon.

Cassiel’s features softened. “I never asked, but it wasn’t because I don’t care. I knew that pressing you about how you were handling things wouldn’t do you any favors. You had to be ready in your own time.”

Ronen lowered his head. He couldn’t bear to look her in the eyes, couldn’t face witnessing her fight to tolerate his weakness.

“Some big tough gargoyle warrior I am, huh?”

“Stop it, asshole. Quit feeling sorry for yourself.”