Paranormal's Love 11 - Hot-Blooded Alligator Read online

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  About the Author

  Into the Paranormal World: Even cold-blooded creatures can get a little hot under the collar.

  Tristan has never been what someone would call a social guy. Like the alligator he shares his spirit with, he prefers being alone. Now, after enduring decades of forced isolation as an animal attraction in a curiosity show, Tristan is even more reclusive than ever. He lives mainly in animal form, swimming in the large pond on the gargoyle’s estate. When he helps kidnap his abuser, Bud Wallice, Tristan decides interrogating the bastard is a great reason to finally interact with others.

  Eventually, Bud is reported missing by his wife, and the trail leads to the gargoyle’s estate. Tristan meets Detective Collin DeSoto, who is looking into the disappearance. Tristan immediately recognizes the man as his mate, and while the sex between them is explosive, that’s the only easy thing between them. Collin isn’t out to his incredibly large family, and he doesn’t approve of how Tristan handles Bud. Can the pair resolve their differences, or will Tristan end up returning to his pond...alone?

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Hot-Blooded Alligator

  Copyright © 2015 Charlie Richards

  ISBN: 978-1-4874-0216-7

  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

  Look for us online at:

  www.eXtasybooks.com or www.devinedestinies.com

  Hot-Blooded Alligator

  A Paranormal’s Love: Book Eleven

  By

  Charlie Richards

  Dedication

  Two roads diverged in the wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference. –Robert Frost

  Chapter One

  “Are you sure you want to do this alone?”

  Tristan remembered Maelgwn’s concerned expression when the lead gargoyle had asked him that question three days before. It didn’t offend him. It was actually reasonably refreshing to think another was concerned about him. No one had expressed concern for Tristan in...over a century, not that he planned to tell anyone that.

  As an albino alligator, Tristan had been ostracized by his fellow alligator shifters. Once he’d been old enough to hunt on his own, his parents had shoved him out their hut’s door and warned him never to return. The leader of their alligator congregation had done the same...forcefully.

  Tristan had been seven.

  Mentally rolling his eyes at his sudden trip down memory lane, Tristan focused on balancing the wooden tray laden with food. He’d requested the task of interrogating Bud Wallice—the man who’d held not only himself in captivity, but also a couple of other shifters—and had every intention of breaking the sideshow owner. Tristan knew it’d just take time.

  Listening at the door, Tristan used his shifter hearing to verify how close Bud was to the door. He varied the time he brought meals, so the human could never anticipate when he was coming and lay in wait. Still, Tristan remembered three days before when Bud had tried, anyway.

  Tristan checked the door and heard Bud on the far side of the room. He unlocked it and headed inside. Movement to his left caught his attention and, acting on years of martial arts training, he twisted and dodged Bud’s wildly swinging club.

  Tristan tossed the food tray toward the nearby table, keeping Bud in his peripheral vision as he did so. Bud lunged toward the still open door. Tristan executed a diving forward roll. Finishing in a crouch, he swung his leg in a sweep kick, knocking Bud’s legs out from under him.

  As Bud fell, Tristan leaped to his feet. He grabbed the carnival owner’s wrist and wrenched it back and up as he dropped his knee on the human’s lower back. It took every bit of his self-control to keep from tightening his grip and snapping the human’s wrist.

  However, Tristan had given Maelgwn his word...no physical abuse unless under supervision. He figured he might get there eventually, but not yet, at least not for this minor infraction.

  Instead, Tristan pinched the nerve running along Bud’s inner wrist just enough for him to cry out in pain and for him to drop the make-shift club that he clutched in his other hand. Once Bud was no longer armed, Tristan released him.

  As he stood, Tristan scooped up the crude weapon and stepped away from the human. He inspected the club and realized it was a broken chair leg. Taking it with him, Tristan walked back to the door.

  “Your club sandwich should still mostly be in one piece,” Tristan told him, motioning toward the tray he’d hastily tossed. He felt impressed with himself that he’d actually gotten it onto the table. Seeing the way the metal lid was skewed, Tristan added, “I don’t think the potato salad should be ruined, but you may need to scrape it off the lid. It should still be okay, though.”

  “You bastard,” Bud snarled, rising to his feet. “You can’t hold me here.”

  Tristan paused, his hand on the doorknob. Cocking his head, he deadpanned, “Why not? You held me.” Without waiting for a response, Tristan left the room.

  That had been the one and only conversation Tristan had shared with Bud during the eight days he’d been taking him food. Tristan knew, eventually, the silence would get to the carnival owner. After years of watching him from his alligator pit, he knew Bud was used to bossing people around, and people ignoring him must drive the man nuts.

  When Tristan didn’t hear anything from inside, he unlocked the door and pushed it hard enough to cause it to swing all the way open. He spotted Bud sitting at the table. After striding inside the room, Tristan stepped right and used his foot to shut the door.

  Tristan moved to the table and set down the platter. He lifted the lid, revealing a hearty beef stew, a green salad, and several hunks of buttered rye bread. Along with that, was a bottle of microbrew as well as a cup of coffee, complete with two sugars and a dash of Half and Half, just the way Bud liked it.

  After placing everything in front of the man, Tristan settled in the opposite chair. He leaned back, placed his hands on the arms of the chair, and stared at the man.

  Bud ate half the bowl of soup before he picked up the beer. He sniffed it, then took a sip. After swallowing, he nodded.

  “It’s good,” Bud said, setting the bottle down. Frowning at Tristan, he asked belligerently, “So what animal are you?”

  Tristan just coc
ked his head and continued to stare.

  Scowling, Bud grumbled, “I know you’re not a fucking mute.” He curled his lip and demanded, “Answer the damn question!”

  “I will answer your questions when you ask politely,” Tristan replied softly.

  Bud’s eyes narrowed. His jaw clenched.

  Tristan kept his expression blank, knowing just how much it’d piss Bud off. One thing he’d noticed watching the man for years while in animal form, Bud liked pushing other people’s buttons and working them up. The human used that to discover other people’s weaknesses.

  Fortunately, Tristan’s past as a loner had taught him to conceal his feelings. He’d already sat for days listening to this man rant about how he was being illegally held and that when he escaped, he was going to rain legal fire and brimstone down upon all of them. Then, he was going to round up all the freaks hiding in the estate and sell them to the highest bidder.

  After four days of that, Bud had tried his escape, which Tristan had easily subdued. The next three days they’d spent in silence. It seemed, Bud was ready to start talking again.

  Bud’s nostril’s flared and his face reddened.

  Tristan decided that while Bud must want to chat, it just wouldn’t be like a civilized person. That was fine. He would remain silent until Bud found his manners. Either the human would start talking politely, or he’d sit in this room for the rest of his life. Tristan couldn’t give a rip either way. He knew, however, it wouldn’t come to that. The human would break.

  Bud hissed, “Mother fucking monsters,” under his breath. Followed by, “I’ll find a way to make you pay. Just wait.”

  Bud went back to eating, and Tristan feigned ignorance of his words. Something he’d realized even before the gargoyles had rescued him was that while Bud knew that shifters and gargoyles existed, he didn’t know or understand their abilities.

  As soon as Bud finished eating, Tristan rose from the table. He began clearing the table of dishes, replacing them on the platter. Since the coffee cup was still mostly full, he left that one and straightened.

  When Tristan picked up the lid and replaced it on the platter, Bud reached out and grabbed his wrist. Tristan just managed to keep his lip from curling at the unwanted contact. Turning his head slowly, he leveled a gaze so cold on Bud that the human released him, yanking his hand back.

  “You can’t keep me here,” Bud claimed once again. “People will be looking for me.”

  Deciding to push just a little bit, Tristan cocked his head. “You mean humans will be looking for you.”

  Bud scoffed. “Yeah.”

  Tristan allowed the corners of his lips to curl up just a bit as he held Bud’s gaze. “Haven’t you realized it, yet?”

  “Realized what?”

  “You’re not in the human world anymore.”

  Tristan exited the room, leaving a gaping Bud behind. With the way Bud had tried to talk—rudely, but tried—then mouthed off under his breath, Tristan realized the man was fast losing his bravado. His comment just might push Bud that little bit still needed to get him talking.

  Knowing the clutch was relying on him to gather information from the man, Tristan felt honored. He also felt the weight of the task on his shoulders. They all needed to know what kind of group they were facing and what all they knew.

  Roland—a young lynx shifter who was mated to the gargoyle clutch’s second...or second-in-command, Tobias—had overheard some guards one evening while still in captivity. They’d learned that the humans knew the gargoyles could bond with others. Of course, they had called gargoyles demons and had likened the one bonded to them more as a familiar, someone who kept them affixed to the earthly plane.

  If they only knew.

  Tristan planned to make certain that never happened.

  To that end, Tristan took three meals a day to Bud and, per his own request, no one else had contact with him. He easily tolerated the human’s bigotry and didn’t want another person riled by his words. Tristan didn’t want Bud to have the satisfaction. He needed Bud off-balance, and the silence was quickly achieving that.

  Tristan returned the tray to the kitchen. Like after most evening meals taken to Bud’s room, Kort—a large red gargoyle—held up a picnic basket and a thermos. The male grinned, showing off sharp canines in his square face.

  “I could keep you warm far better than this hot chocolate, you know,” the flirt of a gargoyle teased, gently shaking the thermos. “And it’d be so much more enjoyable.” He waggled his brow ridges. “Promise.”

  Tristan wasn’t turned off by the gargoyle, he just wasn’t turned on, either. Still, he couldn’t help but smile slightly at the flirty creature. Kort would fuck anyone once. He was even known for fucking humans. How he got away with it without blowing the secret of gargoyle’s existence, Tristan had no clue. He didn’t actually care, either.

  Really, Tristan cared about two things. His solitude and getting Bud Wallice to talk. Sex had always been something he could take or leave. Just surviving had been more important than his sex drive.

  Still, having no desire to insult Kort, he was a nice guy after all, making him meals and shit, Tristan offered a slight smile and replied, “As always, I am honored by your interest, however—”

  Tristan reached out and took the thermos as he picked up the basket. He’d return them later. At the moment, he and his alligator were in agreement. They wanted the outdoors and fresh air.

  “However, you’re not interested,” Kort responded. He placed a white-clawed hand over his heart and sighed dramatically. “Story of my life.”

  Racking his brain for a suitable reply, Tristan murmured, “This is where I say, it is not you, it is me.” He held Kort’s gaze, hoping the sincerity showed in his eyes. “And it would be true. I have...no need to connect.”

  Kort’s dark brow ridges shot up. “With anyone?”

  Tristan’s features smoothed, no longer worried about offending the man. “I am an alligator. I’ll bond when and if my mate comes along. Until then...” He cocked his head. “What purpose is there in leading someone on?”

  “Uh, enjoying another’s body doesn’t mean you’re leading them on,” Kort began slowly. “Not if you’re upfront about what you’re sharing.”

  Eyeing the gargoyle, Tristan mentally absorbed what the other male said. “I never learned to share,” he whispered. Picking up the basket, Tristan headed out of the kitchens. He hadn’t missed the way Kort’s jaw had sagged open or the shocked scent emanating from the large male.

  Tristan wasn’t surprised that would shock Kort. With the gargoyle’s happy-go-lucky attitude, it was painfully obvious their upbringings were complete opposites. In Tristan’s eyes, that was fine. He’d continued to live despite his past experiences.

  Striding swiftly and purposefully down the hallway, Tristan sought out the nearest exit. He walked outside and headed around the gardens. Too many gargoyles and humans strolled the gardens. He’d rather be alone. Tristan slipped into the trees and headed to the pond.

  He had just reached the body of water—far larger than he needed, making his alligator very happy—when he heard a deep voice call his name. Turning, he spotted a trio of gargoyles heading toward him, Maelgwn, Tobias, and Einan. Tristan figured the clutch leader wanted an update.

  After waving to the gargoyles, Tristan continued along the trail to the small dock. He settled sideways on the end, trailing one foot in the water while resting his other leg, knee bent, on the dock. He began unpacking the basket, waiting for the gargoyles. By the time the trio joined him, Tristan had spread his supper out on the planking.

  “Do you wish an update?” Tristan asked without actually greeting them. Instead, he picked up the container of stew and brought it to his lips, sipping directly from the bowl. Over the rim, Tristan watched Maelgwn and Einan settle on the two benches, folding their wings around their shoulders. Tobias remained standing, his arms crossed over his wide chest.

  “Has he said anything, yet?” Maelgwn
responded, equally candid.

  Tristan knew he was brusque and to the point and he appreciated that the clutch leader was equally candid and never took offense. Picking up a large chunk of bread, Tristan dipped it in the stew as he responded.

  “What you’d expect.” Tristan paused with the sopping bread halfway to his mouth. “Claims that we can’t do this to him, how it’s illegal to hold a human without cause, as well as all the vulgar vile things he plans to do to us and the rest of the monsters in the world once he gets free.”

  Maelgwn’s eyes narrowed as Tobias growled. Einan crossed his arms over his chest and curled his lip. Disgust, frustration, anger, and irritation radiated from the trio in waves.

  “Did he at least answer any of your questions?” Einan snarled.

  Tristan cocked his head as he stared at the enforcer. “I have not asked him any questions.”

  “You haven’t?” Tobias rumbled. “Why the fuck not?”

  If Tristan had been in alligator form, he would have opened his mouth to show off his rows upon rows of teeth as he let out a long, displeased hiss. As it was, he stifled his reaction to bristle. These gargoyles had given him a fantastic home, after all.

  Focusing on Tobias, Tristan answered slowly, “There is no reason to ask him anything right now.” At the scowl on the gargoyle second’s face, he added, “He is not ready to answer any questions truthfully. He would just lie.”

  “Do you have anything for us?” Maelgwn asked with a sigh. “Anything at all?”

  Tristan lifted the soup to his lips again and took another gulp as he thought about his interactions with Bud Wallice. After chewing and swallowing, he replied, “We should be prepared for people looking for him.”

  “Fucking great,” Tobias grumbled.

  Maelgwn lifted a hand, silently asking Tobias to cease his mutterings. After rubbing his jaw, the leader asked, “Is there anything you can tell us about Bud’s operation?”