Chapter Ten
“You could have just told me you wanted me back at work at the start of the call.”
Redford shifted the phone to his other ear, rubbing the spot between his eyes as Wilson, one of his best team leaders from the task force, droned on about a new case.
Another paranormal pharmaceutical company, this one suspected of using shifter DNA without consent.
The details blurred together - he’d handled variations of the same sort of case a dozen times over the past ten years.
“I understand the urgency,” he said, watching through the cottage window as Damon hauled stones across the castle courtyard. “But I’m on leave.”
“Yes, but you’re the only one who knows the protocols for this specific type of…”
“Wilson.” Redford cut him off gently. “I wrote those protocols, step-by-step, specifically so someone else could handle cases like this one when I wasn’t available.”
There was a long pause, then Wilson seemed to get huffy, even though Redford wasn’t sure why. “Special Agent Stone, with all due respect, we both know you’re better suited to…”
“Have you tried the approach I outlined in section seven?”
“Well, no, not yet, but…”
“Then try that first.” Redford kept his tone firm but not unkind. “Email me if you run into genuine problems. Otherwise, you have everything you need.”
He ended the call before Wilson could think of another argument and shoved his phone in his pocket. His gargoyle stirred uneasily, caught between the ingrained work habit and the pull of his mate just outside.
Speaking of which, Redford could feel Damon’s concern. Everything okay?
Leaving the cottage, Redford quickly walked over to the castle, finding Damon standing with a massive stone balanced on one shoulder, watching him with those sharp eyes that missed nothing.
“Work,” Redford said, which wasn’t really an answer.
Damon set the stone down carefully and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Want to talk about it?”
“It’s nothing urgent.”
“Redford.”
“They want me to handle another case.” Redford sighed, letting his exasperation show through. “Corporate corruption with a double dose of paranormal elements. The same shit I’ve been managing for years.”
“But you’re on leave.”
“I am.” Redford leaned against the partially restored wall beside where Damon had been working. “But Wilson, one of my team leaders, seems to think I’m the only person capable of handling it properly.”
Damon was quiet for a moment, and through their bond, Redford could sense him thinking things through. Not judging, just thinking, the way his mate approached most problems.
“Are you?” Damon finally asked.
Caught up in watching his mate, it took Redford a moment to catch up. “Am I what?”
“Are you the only person who can handle the case?”
Redford opened his mouth to say yes automatically, then stopped. Am I? He’d written extensive protocol manuals, trained his teams, and delegated successfully before, although admittedly, not very often.
“No,” he admitted. “Wilson’s perfectly capable. He’s been with the task force for five years and has been leading his own team for three.”
“Then why is he calling you?”
“Because I’ve always said yes.” Redford wasn’t sure who was more surprised by what he’d said – him or Damon. “On the rare times when I’ve taken leave or vacation time before, and they’ve called, I’ve always dropped everything and made the new case a priority. Every single time.”
Damon moved closer, close enough that Redford could smell the clean sweat on his skin and that scent which was uniquely his.
“Do you really want to take this case?” Damon asked quietly.
That was the question, wasn’t it? Redford had spent decades handling everything himself because in his head there was no one else to rely on. His work ethic had been forged at a very early age, and he’d equated depending on others with weakness.
But his life was different now. He had a mate, someone who made the weight of the world feel less crushing just by existing.
“No,” Redford admitted, feeling his whole body relax the moment the word left his lips. “I don’t want to take it.”
Damon’s hand found his. “Then don’t.”
“Wilson seemed to think…”
“Wilson’s going to think whatever he needs to think to get you back.” Damon’s tone wasn’t harsh, just matter-of-fact. “That’s what happens when you’re good at your job and bad at saying no. People take advantage, even if they don’t mean to.”
Redford studied their joined hands, the strength of his mate easily matching his. “I’ve never been good at setting boundaries with work.”
“I noticed. You finished your last case while you were supposedly on leave.” Affection colored the words, softening any sting. “Checking your email is also the very first thing you do when you wake up, and the last thing you do before you go to sleep.”
“I don’t.” Do I? Actually, Redford felt that could be true, too.
“You do.” Damon squeezed his hand. “Look, I’m not saying you should never help with emergencies. But you’re on leave because you were burning out, yeah? Taking another case so quickly probably isn’t the smartest move, even if we discount the fact you’re newly mated.”
Damon wasn’t trying to demand anything or control him in any way, but he had a solidness around him much like the stones of the castle. More than that, Redford could sense how much Damon believed in him, and believed he could set boundaries even when Redford wasn’t entirely sure himself.
“You’re right,” Redford said.
“Obviously.” Damon’s lips quirked. “I’m always right.”
“That’s a bold claim for someone who thought putting chili powder in shortbread was a good idea last night.”
“I was only discussing possibilities – I’ve always wanted to try it.”
“It’s a crime against buttery shortbread.”
Damon laughed, and something in Redford’s chest loosened further.
This was what he’d needed without knowing it - someone who could make him laugh while also calling him on his bullshit.
Someone who saw past Special Agent Stone to just Redford, flawed, tired, and trying to figure out how to live differently.
“I should call Wilson back,” Redford said reluctantly. “Actually delegate this time.”
“That’s a good idea.” Damon released his hand but didn’t move away. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”
Going back to the cottage, Redford wished he’d stayed lugging rocks around instead.
The second call was harder than the first, with Wilson pushing back, arguing that Redford’s experience made him essential to the case.
Part of Redford wanted to cave, to fall into the familiar pattern of taking on everything because at least then he knew it would be done right.
But he thought about Damon working on the castle renovation without him, and the way his gargoyle had been content for the first time in centuries – well, at least since he and Damon had claimed each other.
More importantly, Redford thought about the future he and Damon could build together, if Redford actually committed to his mate instead of letting work pull him back into old patterns.
“Wilson, you’re going to handle this case,” Redford said, firmer this time. “I’ve reviewed the details you sent, and everything you need is in the protocols. If you get stuck, email me specific questions, but I’m not coming back early.”
“Special Agent…”
“I’m on three months leave minimum, mandated because I was burning out.” Redford softened his tone slightly. “You’re ready for this, Wilson. You’ve had the training, and I have absolute faith in you. Trust yourself, and I know you’ll do a good job.”
After he hung up, Redford sat for a moment in the quiet cottage, processing what he’d just done. His phone remained blessedly silent, and in that moment everything felt still. It was a strange feeling, but a good form of strange. I can live with this, Redford decided as he went to find his mate.
Outside, Damon was precisely where he’d said he’d be, now organizing tools near the castle entrance. He looked up as Redford approached, and concern flickered through their bond.
“How’d it go?”
“I delegated.” Redford couldn’t quite keep the wonder from his voice. “I actually told him no and delegated.”
“How does it feel?”
“Really weird.” Redford laughed. “Also liberating, but mostly weird though.”
“That’s normal.” Damon set down the hammer he’d been holding and closed the distance between them. “You just did something you’ve probably never done before. Of course it feels weird.”
Redford didn’t need the bond to know Damon was proud of him, which shouldn’t matter as much as it did, but somehow mattered more than any commendation he’d ever received at work.
“Thank you,” Redford said quietly. “For...seeing what I needed before I did.”
“That’s what mates do.” Damon’s hand found the back of his neck, his thumb brushing against sensitive skin. “We watch out for each other.”
“We’ll be heading off now,” Malcolm yelled as he and the crew made their way to their vans. “See you in the morning.”
Redford nodded and waved, still focusing more on Damon than anything else. His mate was up to something, but Redford couldn’t work out what he was thinking, but the moment the last contractor van disappeared down the road, Damon said, “We should celebrate.” His eyes were gleaming.
“Celebrate?” They hadn’t been together long enough to have an anniversary as such, and Redford didn’t know of any birthday coming up.
“You just set a boundary with work for probably the first time ever.” Damon’s grin turned wicked. “That deserves commemorating.”
“Ah, okay.” Redford met his mate’s grin with one of his own. “What did you have in mind?”
“Well, there’s absolutely no one else around right now.
” Damon stepped back and shifted – his human form blurring and reforming in literally seconds, until a massive hellhound stood in front of him, his gorgeous collar bright against his deep black neck fur.
The hound fixed his red-flecked eyes on Redford and huffed expectantly, wagging his back end.
Redford’s gargoyle surged forward, eager to accept the invitation.
He let his own shift take him, feeling leathery skin replace soft flesh as he grew to his full eight feet.
His wings unfurled, stretching wide after too long confined – the best possible feeling.
But Redford didn’t have long to appreciate it as his mate circled him once, sniffed at him, and then took off running toward the hills.
Launching himself skyward, Redford’s wings caught the air currents easily. Below him, Damon raced across the heather-covered ground, and through their bond, Redford could feel the joy from the hound that came from the freedom of moving in his shifted form.
They played tag through the darkening Highlands, Redford swooping low while Damon dodged him, always staying one step ahead.
Any thoughts of tiredness were gone, and frustration was a thing of the past. With his hound below him and the wind under his wings, Redford let himself enjoy what it meant to be a gargoyle for the first time in years.
Show-off, Damon sent through their bond as Redford executed a barrel roll.
Says the hellhound doing backflips.
Those were evasive maneuvers.
Uh-huh.
Redford dive-bombed his mate playfully, and the hound leaped to meet him, massive jaws snapping harmlessly at air as Redford pulled up at the last second. They tumbled together in a controlled fall, Redford’s wings buffering their descent until they landed in a tangle of fur and leather.
The hound pinned him, all pleased smugness through their bond.
I let you win, Redford sent.
Sure you did.
They shifted back eventually, lying in the heather catching their breath despite not truly needing to. Stars emerged overhead, beautiful in the clear Highland air.
“That felt good,” Redford said.
“Flying?”
“All of it. Delegating, flying, just lying here with you.” He gestured vaguely at the two of them, tangled together in the grass. “Being able to just...be.”
Damon rolled onto his side, propping himself on one elbow to look down at Redford. “You’re allowed to enjoy things, you know that, right?”
“Intellectually, I know that, yes.”
“But actually believing it is harder.”
“Something like that.” Redford reached up to trace the line of Damon’s jaw. “I spent centuries being self-sufficient and for the longest time, I depended on myself because there wasn’t anyone else.”
“You realize you don’t have to do that now, though, right?”
“Now I have you, and I’m learning that maybe I don’t have to carry everything alone.”
Damon caught his hand, and pressed a kiss to his palm. “You definitely don’t have to. That’s the whole point of having a mate. I’m a bit the same, you know.”
“You?” Redford was surprised. “You have a whole pack you’re linked with.”
“You’re part of that pack now, too,” Damon said, nodding.
“But that was one of the rules we had when the Fates decided we could live on Earth. My packmates and I can’t live together.
It’s because we’re more powerful than other shifters, and most paranormals, when you think about it.
We would be seen as a threat by others if we lived as a pack, so we had to learn to forge our lives alone. ”
Redford could feel lingering sadness at the idea and wondered what that might be like, especially when Damon had been in a pack since he was formed.
But before he could say anything, Damon shrugged and grinned. “If there’s an issue, we are all there in an instant, and aside from that we still visit each other. Be prepared for trips to Greece, or London, or invites to a barbecue in Australia.
“Translocation has to be useful for something, and I can’t wait to show you off to my pack and their mates. I’m not even the first to have a gargoyle mate. My packmate Kolton has one, too. I don’t know if you know him, but he’s known as Simon and was a doctor in Las Vegas before he met Kolton.”
Redford didn’t know the name, but gargoyles were solitary too, so that wasn’t surprising. Pulling his mate down, Redford took the kiss he’d wanted for most of the afternoon. “Whatever we do, we do together, although Australia will be a first for me.”
“Farron and Patrick love to have visitors, and it always seems to be warm there. Speaking of which, we should probably head back,” Damon said, though he made no move to actually get up. “It’s getting cold.”
“You literally radiate heat.”
“True.” Damon settled more comfortably against him. “But the cottage has a bed, food, and a shower that fits two people if we’re creatively close.”
“You make a compelling argument.”
They walked back hand in hand, Redford feeling lighter than he had in years.
His phone remained silent in his pocket - Wilson hadn’t called back or sent any desperate emails.
In other words, the world continued turning without Redford micromanaging every detail.
It was…good. Still weird, but Redford knew he’d get used to it.