Page 45 of Dance in the Stones

“That’s a big commitment, Red.”

“I know.” Redford stopped at the window, looking out at the ruins. “But you said you wanted to build something, and what if this is it? We could build not just a home, but a haven - a place where other paranormals can be safe.”

Damon’s hound seemed to think it was a good idea, and Damon got the impression Redford’s gargoyle was just as keen. There was only one thing holding Damon back. “Red, my mate. You just left a job where you worked yourself to exhaustion. I don’t want to see that happen again.”

“This would be different. We’d be helping people together, on our own terms.” Redford turned. “And we wouldn’t be alone. Your pack would help, and Moira said there are other paranormals in Scotland. We could build a network, like the original sanctuary had.”

“You’re serious about this.”

“I think I am.” Redford crossed to him. “But only if you want it too. This has to be our decision.”

Damon pulled his mate down onto the couch, thinking. A sanctuary meant responsibility, work, and danger sometimes – although after dealing with Underworld spirits and demons for millennia, Damon wasn’t really worried about that. And on the other side of the coin was the fact that their lives could have purpose, as they built a community that could, over time – and it would be a long time –make a difference.

“We’d need help,” he said finally. “Proper wards, security, protocols for intake. Moira’s probably got ideas about what modern paranormals need.”

“So we meet with her?”

“I think we should definitely start with that, yes.” Damon kissed Redford’s temple. “And we talk to Kolton, Simon, and JC when they arrive and get their input.”

“It’s starting to sound like a real pack decision.”

“Exactly.”

Redford’s relief rippled through their bond. “I wasn’t sure you’d go for it.”

“Are you kidding? My hound is practically doing backflips.” Damon grinned. “Hellhounds by their very nature are protectors, just like you gargoyles are. For me, this would be similar to what I did in the Underworld, just with better scenery.”

“And me.”

“Definitely an improvement over chasing evil spirits.”

Chapter Sixteen

Redford woke to voices drifting through the cottage - deep rumbles punctuated by a higher, more melodic tone and underneath it all, the unmistakable fussing of an infant. It seemed the pack members Damon invited had arrived.

Pack – a weird word in Redford’s vocabulary. After moving away from his clan and forging his own life, in a way he resonated with the hellhounds who did the same when they came to Earth. But the hellhounds still had their pack links, connected in ways most people wouldn’t understand. And now they are apparently including me, too. The thought was swiftly followed by I should probably get dressed.

Redford found his jeans and T-shirt, pulling them on, and padding barefoot toward the kitchen. The new guest rooms worked perfectly, giving the visitors plenty of room. Considering Redford hadn’t even heard them arrive, that was clearly a blessing.

“I’m telling you, he’s teething early.” That was a voice Redford didn’t recognize, warm and frustrated in equal measures. “Gargoyle genetics, probably. Everything happens faster.”

“Hellhounds grow fast too – just look at Poppy. Or maybe he just wants attention.” Another unfamiliar voice, this one deeper, amused. “You’re spoiling him.”

“I do not…”

Redford turned the corner and stopped.

Two men were in his kitchen - well, Damon’s kitchen, though Redford was starting to think of it as theirs. One was massive, built like Damon with that particular solid quality that apparently indicated hellhounds. The other man was leaner, though still broad-shouldered, with sun-kissed wavy brown hair and the kind of elegant bone structure that made Redford’s gargoyle sit up and take notice.

There’s another gargoyle in our territory. Except it wasn’t just his territory, and the possessive rumble in Redford’s chest died before it could fully form. Clearly the man was Simon, Kolton’s mate, which made him pack.

“You must be Redford!” The blond hellhound - Kolton, it had to be with that shaggy streaked hair - crossed the kitchen in two strides, hand extended. “Finally. Damon’s been hiding you.”

“I have not.” Damon emerged from the hallway, freshly showered and grinning. “Red just likes to sleep in.”

“I can’t imagine why.” Kolton’s handshake was firm, his grin infectious. “Long nights keeping him up?”

“Kolton.” Simon’s voice carried the weight of a thousand similar admonishments. He shifted the fussing baby in his arms, then met Redford’s gaze. “Simon Teeg. It’s good to meet you.”