Coercing Quinn Read online

  Into the Paranormal World: Change is never easy, but it is oftentimes worth the painful effort.

  Taolma is a young boa constrictor shifter who has recently been reunited with his father after almost two decades apart. He currently lives with a clutch of gargoyles on the outskirts of a small town, but he doesn’t mind. There’s a massive arboretum to sun in and a pond to swim in, plus plenty of trees to climb. Due to the small town atmosphere, Taolma doesn’t expect to find his mate any time soon. Imagine his surprise, excitement, and disappointment when he walks into a motel room and discovers his mate. Quinn is slender, muscular, and handsome. Oh, and he’s a hunter recovering from claw-wounds received from a gargoyle. Taolma hadn’t planned on settling down any time soon, but the pull to mate is undeniable. Can he figure out how to convince a hunter that not all shifters are evil, come to grips with Fate giving him a mate when so young, and of course convince a man who hates paranormals that they are meant to be together?

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  Coercing Quinn

  Copyright © 2016 Charlie Richards

  ISBN: 978-1-4874-0699-8

  Cover art by Carmen Waters

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books Inc or

  Devine Destinies, an imprint of eXtasy Books Inc

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  www.eXtasybooks.com or www.devinedestinies.com

  Coercing Quinn

  A Paranormal’s Love: Book Sixteen

  By

  Charlie Richards

  Dedication

  The best way out is always through.

  ~Robert Frost

  Chapter One

  “I’m not certain if I should say congratulations or I’m sorry.”

  Taolma Rabenau turned and looked at Golren. Grimacing, he admitted his confusion. “I’m not sure what I want either.” He heaved a sigh and flopped onto the recliner, but he didn’t push it back to lounge like he normally did. Instead, Taolma stared vacantly at the blank TV screen fifteen feet away. “I’m not even twenty-one,” he muttered. “What the hell am I going to do with a mate who hates me?”

  Golren held out a glass of water.

  Glancing up at the aging shifter who’d acted as his father for almost eighteen years, Taolma took the glass of water. He downed the tall glassful in three long swallows. Handing the empty glass back, he smiled gratefully at him.

  “Thank you,” Taolma whispered. “Hadn’t realized I was so thirsty.”

  “Discovering your mate is always a shock to the system,” Golren responded, setting the glass on the coffee table. “Finding out that he is a human who believes shifters and other paranormals are animals and creatures that need to be put down...” His voice trailed away as he settled on the sofa to Taolma’s right.

  The knock on the door drew Taolma’s attention. “Who is it?”

  “Caladon and Leroy.”

  Rising from his chair, Taolma crossed the room and opened the door. He welcomed his father, his birth father, into the room. Instantly, the tall male wrapped his arms around Taolma.

  Taolma sank into the older shifter’s embrace, wrapping his own arms around him. While Golren had raised him as his own after Caladon had disappeared—back when Taolma was only two—he’d also told him about Caladon. Golren had explained his father would never have left of his own accord. They’d even searched for Caladon together, keeping hope alive.

  It had been well worth the effort. The prior year, after over seventeen years, they’d been contacted by gargoyles. The clutch had rescued Caladon from a curiosity show along with a couple of other shifters.

  With Golren at his side, Taolma had moved in with the clutch. He’d been living there for over a year now. Golren, on the other hand, had moved out shortly after finding and bonding with his mate, the human female Penelope.

  “So, Quinn is your mate.”

  Easing away from his father, Taolma peered at Nurse Leroy Wilde. He’d learned that the human male had been drawn into the paranormal world when a guy named Marty Beakman had been shot. Marty was mated to the gargoyle Raymond, so when Marty had been taken to the hospital where Leroy worked, a number of gargoyles had shown up and strong-armed Leroy into helping them sneak him from the hospital. The gargoyles had taken both Marty and Leroy to the estate.

  From what Taolma had learned, Leroy had taken the change in pretty good stride.

  Taolma took in Leroy’s understanding smile and focused on his comment. “Yeah,” he confirmed. “Yeah, Quinn Pichousie is my mate.” He stepped away from his father and returned to his recliner. Easing back onto it, he resumed his focus of the blank TV.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Blinking, Caladon’s words drawing him from his thoughts, Taolma peered around at the other men. He realized they were all seated, Leroy curled up nearly on Caladon’s lap. All three men wore looks of concern.

  Huh. How long did I space out for?

  Realizing he couldn’t put it off forever—and even confused, Taolma knew he needed advice—he nodded. “Yeah, uh, I guess that’d be best,” he mumbled, rubbing his palms on his jeans-clad thighs. “So, Quinn is a hunter. I met him in a motel room where he was trying to flee the gargoyles’ custody.” He shook his head, adding, “And the escape would have been successful, too, except unbeknownst to him, his friend Jeremiah didn’t want to escape and had called for help.” He met Golren’s gaze as he stated, “Us.”

  Golren nodded. He chuckled softly before stating, “You came on strong, buddy. I admit it made me a little uncomfortable to watch, but I understand why.” He suddenly grinned widely. “Scenting your mate for the first time can be pretty overwhelming.”

  “You got that right,” Taolma agreed. He recalled that instant when Quinn had opened the door and his scent had filled his nostrils. Immediately, Taolma felt his cock thicken and he scrubbed his palms over his face. “Wow,” he murmured. “Just thinking about what it felt like to touch him.”

  Taolma had practically pounced on the man. As soon as he’d confirmed that the sweet-smelling human who’d opened the door was not Jeremiah, he’d advanced on him. Too bad the appearance of a gun in Quinn’s hand had derailed his hope for putting the motel’s bed to good use.

  Still, I did get to feel Quinn in my arms... and it was glorious.

  Sucking in a harsh breath, Taolma focused on Golren. “So, how do I seduce an unwilling human?” He glanced around at the others, settling his gaze on Leroy. “You treated him. What are my chances?”

  Leroy pursed his lips for a few seconds, then shook his head. “I really don’t know, Tao,” he admitted. “I just stitched him up.”

  “What happened to him, anyway?” Taolma frowned, remembering the bandage on Quinn’s face and neck. “How’d he get hurt?”

  After clearing his throat, Golren told him, “I asked about that after w
e returned to the mansion.” His jaw tightening, he grumbled, “What with all the shit he was saying in the SUV.”

  “And?” Taolma pressed, seeing Golren’s hesitation.

  Golren leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “You know he’s a hunter, and believes we are monsters that should be destroyed,” he reminded him. After Taolma lifted one shoulder in a half shrug and nodded, Golren continued. “It seems he was at the warehouse when the gargoyles went in and cleared it out. He fired a number of rounds at Vane. Uh, Vane retaliated.”

  “Understandable,” Taolma whispered, cringing.

  Vane was a massive, red gargoyle with the rank of enforcer. He mostly steered clear of humans, having been held captive and used as a sideshow attraction for years. After mating with the human Matthew Beakman, Marty’s brother, he’d loosened up a little. Then, Matthew had become pregnant. Now, Vane seemed hell-bent on removing any possible threat to his mate and hatchling.

  “So, Vane hit him?” Taolma guessed, focusing on Leroy. “Split his cheek open?” He frowned as he mused, “But that wouldn’t account for the bandages on his neck or the ones that disappeared under his shirt.”

  Leroy shook his head before explaining, “Uh, no. Vane sliced him open with his claws while going for the gun Quinn was firing at him,” he explained, moving his arm to demonstrate as he scraped his fingertips along Caladon’s right shoulder and over to the left side of his face. “Which is why his claws swiped in an upward, sideways motion, his claws catching along his shoulder, his neck, nose, cheek, and brow.”

  Taolma rubbed the bridge of his nose as he realized the implications. “Holy shit,” he whispered. “Is it going to scar?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he gave himself a mental bitch-slap at how shallow that sounded... as if he were concerned about his mate’s looks.

  “Uh, yeah. Faint ones,” Leroy replied, his brows furrowing. “It took me eighty-seven stitches to close his wounds. Fortunately, the slices were shallow, so they were easy to clean up and close... uh, respectively speaking.” Pausing, Leroy met his gaze squarely. “But, yes, there will be scars.”

  “It doesn’t matter if there are scars to me,” Taolma stated. Seeing Leroy’s incredulous expression, he told him, “I asked because it’s something I should know, uh, be prepared for.” When the nurse’s brows furrowed, he quickly continued. “People who suddenly become scarred are often embarrassed by them. I’m going to have to prove to him not only that shifters aren’t monsters to be slain, but that the scars don’t make him less of a, well, a man.”

  “Well, you know you have us here to help, Son,” Caladon assured. He hugged Leroy to his side, glancing down at his mate before refocusing on Taolma. “And you have the best nurse looking after him. Besides, once you manage to claim him, who knows how well the wounds will heal.”

  While Leroy nodded encouragingly, Golren lifted a hand. “I also know why he joined the hunters,” he claimed. “I spoke with Jeremiah about him. He hasn’t been with them long.”

  Taolma rested his forearm on the arm of the recliner and leaned toward him. “Yeah?” Curiosity filled him. “Why’d he join up?” Remembering that Quinn had mentioned being married, jealousy flooded him. “Did it have something to do with his wife?”

  Golren nodded. “Yeah, it does.” He paused, his lips twitching in a way that Taolma recognized as something he did when he was struggling with how to give bad news.

  “Just spit it out,” Taolma urged. “Whatever it is, I’m gonna have to deal with it.”

  “You’re so young to have to deal with another person’s familial baggage,” Golren muttered.

  “Everyone deals with baggage,” Taolma countered. He shrugged. “I’m young, inexperienced in relationships, don’t have shit to offer him.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Hell, I’m still in college. I’ll be in college for the next several years. I don’t even know what I want to be when I grow up.”

  “How about being a good mate?” Caladon asked softly. “Think you could do that? It sounds like Quinn is gonna need it.”

  “Yeah,” Taolma replied. “Absolutely.”

  “That’s good, Son,” Caladon murmured, smiling.

  Even sitting there talking about not only Quinn’s problems, but his own shortcomings, Taolma still found he wanted to go to his mate. Once he’d escorted Quinn from the motel to the estate, he’d taken his human back to the hospital wing. With Quinn being so worked up, Doctor Perseus had sedated him and sent Taolma away.

  Taolma knew how to control his impulses, however, so he curled his hands into fists and asked about what he really didn’t want to know. “Tell me about Quinn’s wife.”

  Chapter Two

  Gasping, Quinn snapped his eyes open. He sucked in a harsh lungful of air, trying to dispel the images in his mind. Sweeping his gaze around the room, he filled his vision with a wardrobe, dresser, and side table.

  While the familiar view reminded Quinn that he was once again a captive, it was better than remembering the sight of his dead wife and son. He hadn’t had a nightmare in weeks. He’d hoped he was over them.

  I know what caused this one, though.

  Quinn eased to a sitting position and peered around the room again. Mentally cursing his fellow hunter, Jeremiah, he seethed at the betrayal. How could the human do that to one of his own?

  Remembering the way Jeremiah had acted so happy to see the big, brown demon—gargoyle, whatever—Quinn curled his lip. He sure as hell would never be seduced by a creature like that.

  The image of a tall, lean black man flashed through his mind. The male had appeared young, like college young. His arms were toned and the jeans-encased legs had been long.

  A tall glass of hot chocolate.

  Feeling his prick thicken at the memory, Quinn grimaced. When the young man had first walked into the motel room, seeing his lustful expression had been flattering. Hearing his blatant advances had created a riot of heat to flood his veins.

  Quinn had been sorely tempted to give in and fuck the young man. He hadn’t felt such a deep-seated lust for a man since his college days. Plus, he hadn’t had sex in almost a year... not since his wife and son had been brutally murdered.

  Too bad the young hottie had turned out to be a shifter. On top of that, the guy had taken him back to the gargoyles. He’d never heard of different paranormal species working together, but he hadn’t been with the hunters all that long.

  Fortunately, Quinn had been able to contact Bethany. She ran their hunter group with her husband, Roger. She’d wired him money in exchange for information regarding the gargoyle estate.

  Quinn had used the money to rent a car and buy a gun from a pawn shop. God bless the makers of fake IDs. A lot of good it had all done him, though.

  Damn fool Jeremiah.

  Quinn wondered how long he’d been out. Staring at the clock didn’t really tell him. Three o’clock could be AM or PM, since the room didn’t have any windows.

  Quinn wondered how long he’d be stuck there before the cavalry arrived. Bethany had assured him that they’d hit the gargoyle complex within eighteen hours. She’d made it sound like she and the new guy, Paris, had amassed quite a number of men willing to face down demons.

  He hadn’t bothered to correct her terminology. He didn’t care what Bethany called the creatures. They’d all be dead or captured soon enough.

  A soft knock at the door caught Quinn’s attention. A second later, the door opened. The gargoyle Quinn recognized as Perseus appeared in the doorway.

  Seeing Quinn awake, Perseus stepped into the room. “I’d like to check your bandages,” he stated, his gaze sweeping over his face and torso. “I want to make certain they didn’t get infected during your bid for freedom.” Shaking his head, he muttered, “Which was completely unnecessary, since you’re free to go as soon as we have your word that you will never hunt paranormals again.”

  Scoffing, Quinn shrugged. “Sure. Check ’em out,” he muttered. Unde
rstanding that if the gargoyles had wanted him dead, they could have just left him to bleed out on the garage floor was damn disconcerting. “Gonna make sure I still look pretty for that black boy?”

  Quinn didn’t know where the words came from, and he immediately had to fight a blush.

  Shit. Why did I say that?

  Perseus moved forward. “I’m assuming you are speaking of Taolma,” he rumbled, beckoning to someone outside the room beyond Quinn’s view. “While he is young, he is not a boy,” he continued, stopping beside the bed. “And it doesn’t matter what you look like. Because you are his mate, Taolma will care for you just the same.”

  Quinn gritted his teeth at the blatant announcement even as relief filled him that it was Cosmo who joined Perseus in the room, not the shifter they spoke of. That would have been awkward. The blue gargoyle carried several items, which he laid out on the side table along the wall.

  Racking his brain for a response, Quinn stayed silent while Perseus removed the bandage on his face. He hated how much he appreciated that the gargoyle was gentle. It just poked even more holes in all of Roger and Bethany’s speeches about how violent paranormals were. Everything about the way the gargoyles treated their captives was at complete odds with what it should be.

  Hell, if what the leaders claimed was true, why would they take captives at all? Shouldn’t the paranormals just kill them all?

  Once the bandages on his face and neck were off, Perseus pointed at his t-shirt. “I can cut it down the middle, so you don’t have to pull it over your head,” he offered. “Or I’ll check your chest after I re-cover your face and neck. Preference?”

  Pushing the disturbing thoughts away, Quinn replied, “I’d like to keep the shirt, if that’s okay.”