Page 39 of Dance in the Stones

Damon’s smile widened as he nodded. “Yeah?”

“Yep.” Redford squeezed his mate’s hand. “But that means being here, really here, and not distracted by cases or checking my phone every five minutes to see if something’s gone wrong. I want to work on this with you.”

“You won’t hear any objections from me. Speaking of authorities and cases, however, the Paranormal Council should probably be told about what we’ve found,” Damon said. “These records about such an important part of history should be preserved, and the council might have resources to help with the restoration.”

“I’ll contact them.” Redford’s mind was already working through logistics. “I have more than a couple of contacts there. I still want to secure the originals, and I want to get copies made for the council, perhaps. But I think the ledger, journal, and letters belong here.”

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Planning.” Damon’s smile took the sting out of the words. “Working the problem like it’s a case file. You’re clearly good at it.”

“That’s probably because it’s what I’ve always done. Old habits,” he muttered.

“It’s not a criticism, Red.” Damon stood, moving around the table to slide into Redford’s lap. The chair creaked a bit, but it held. “I’m just making an observation. You’re good at the organizing side of things, delegating, and seeing the bigger picture. At least this time, instead of using those skills to work yourself to death, you’re building something you actually care about.”

Redford wrapped his arms around his mate, feeling the truth of his mate’s words. “I care about this. I care about you.”

“I know.” Damon pressed a kiss to his temple. “That’s why you need to let go of everything else. Not forever - you can still consult if that’s what you wanted to do, but for the day-to-day stuff you’ll need to step back, at least as far as the FBI is concerned.”

In past years, when Redford had indulged a bit too much in the whiskey and was tired of being alone, he’d thought about what it would be like to leave his job, and the thought terrified him every time.

But with Damon’s butt warming his thighs, and the castle sitting just outside the door, Redford felt something he hadn’t experienced in decades – anticipation for the future.

What that would look like, Redford wasn’t sure, but he knew he’d be building a life with Damon, there could be more secrets in the castle to uncover, and most of all, he’d have time to just be himself.

“I’ll talk to my supervisor,” Redford said, “and request an extension on my leave while I figure out the next steps.”

“An extension?”

“I want to give the teams a chance to work without me.” Redford grinned. “There’s a method in my madness. I have easily a year’s worth of leave owed – time off they were going to have to pay me for anyway if I resign now. But by waiting, Wilson gains his confidence, does a good job – or someone else steps up because that doesn’t matter in the long run – and then I hand in my resignation.

“If Wilson is still there at that time, I’ll recommend him for my position, so the transition is smooth, but either way, I’m not going back.” He met Damon’s bright eyes. “So basically, I’m all yours.”

Damon’s grin could have lit the whole cottage. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.”

“We should encourage my pack to visit at some point,” Damon said after a long moment. “They’ll be keen to meet you, and as I say, you won’t be the only gargoyle, as Kolton is mated to one as well – they even have a kid now.”

“How many of the hellhounds from your pack have found their mates?” Redford was genuinely curious.

“You’re the ninth mate – only three single hellhounds from our pack left now. And then there’re the kids…”

“They have children? So some are mated to women?” For some reason, Redford had imagined all the hellhounds would have male mates, but clearly not.

“Nope, all the hellhound mates are males, and yes, before you ask, all the hellhounds are as well.” Damon looked like he was trying really hard not to laugh.

But how did they have kids? “Foster care? Adoption?”

Damon shook his head. “The gargoyle Simon that I told you about laid the egg his and Kolton’s child came from.”

Redford spun Damon around, gripping his biceps. “An actual gargoyle baby, from a mixed species, same-sex couple? That’s not possible.”

“And yet it is. Hatched from an egg that came from Simon’s stone side, they now have a son named Warner. And yes, now that I think about it, apparently Simon’s clan didn’t believe it was possible either, but there’s just something about hellhounds…” Damon trailed off, and he was definitely chuckling now.

“Stones and sky, that’s incredible.” Redford couldn’t believe his ears, but his gargoyle didn’t seem surprised. “So…er…I feel like I want to ask how, but I don’t need a birds and bees talk.”

“It’s all to do with intent, Red. You can stop worrying if you’re pregnant already unless you were thinking about having little ones last night. The hellhound pack is part of the gods’ line because we were created by Lord Hades. Men from the gods line can impregnate other males, or become pregnant themselves…”