I wiggle my fingers at his four-nine frame. “When you stop pretending you’re a kid.”
Darcy snorts and grabs the outline of the cock snaking down his jeans. “This ain’t belong to no kid. I’m a totally normal height for a human born at the time of my incarnation.”
“Oh, was that before or after the extinction of the wooly mammoth?” I tease, sitting on the couch with my leg up so I can face him.
Darcy’s smirk smells a little like rage, but he hides it with a click of his tongue and a teasing reply. “In my day, we rode mammoths for sport and only killed what we could eat.”
I drop my teasing when I get the scent of his rage and fear. Darcy’s one of the most active scent emoters I’ve ever met, whichmakes the fact that he’s good at hiding his emotions with his ego seem superfluous. However, it works because most sapient species wouldn’t be able to smell that I hit a sore subject with him and might not know he doesn’t want to talk about wooly mammoths or how old he is. My species and his have some common genetic mutations, so smelling that his reaction to my teasing isn’t happy, I change the subject out of respect for my friend.
“What’re you doing here, anyway?” I ask, watching Uncle finish with what he’s doing and duck under his table to join us.
“I called him in,” Uncle answers, popping up next to me. “We’ve been contacted by the flink ambassador to the Intergalactic Planetary Preservation Society. They’re missing a baby, and the last time they saw them, the baby had just befriended some little gargoyles that have been keeping tabs on one of your friends.” He gestures to Darcy. “Romily Butcher, the Harbinger for Arlington Fox.”
Darcy’s scent warms with affection at the name even as his face sours. “That guy. I know him. He does have a lot of little gargoyles hanging out with him. How long has the baby been missing?”
Uncle shrugs. “A couple of hours according to the ambassador. They think the baby flink has been visiting the gargoyles during nap time instead of sleeping.”
“Have you asked the little gargoyles if they’ve seen the baby?” I ask, though I’m sure Uncle wouldn’t have overlooked that step.
Uncle gestures to Darcy. “I wouldn’t have called for Darcy if the little gargoyles knew where the flink had gotten to.”
That’s unusual. The little gargoyles are particularly protective of the younglings of all species. If they’d seen the flink, they should have kept an eye on them until they’d been safely delivered back to their parents.
“No problem, then. I’ll find the tyke. Did the ambassador send you anything of the kid’s I can use for tracking? A blood sample would be best, but if not I’ll just take my sexy ass to the IPPS space station to get a sample from the parents.”
“We have a last known location,” Uncle says, pulling a paper from his pocket and handing it to Darcy.
Darcy reads it, folds it up, and sticks it into the pocket of his jeans. He looks straight at Uncle, narrowing his eyes slightly. “If this is a joke, I will be back with retribution.”
What the hell was on that paper?
Uncle holds up both hands. “I assure you, it is not a joke.”
Darcy jumps down from the couch, checking all his pockets out of habit. “Alright. I’ll deliver the youngling to their parents, but you better warn them that I charge by the hour for search and rescue.” He steps in close to me and hugs me around the neck before pecking me on the lips. “See if that butler’s down to fuck. It’d be fun seeing that ass bouncing between us, don’cha think?”
“No,” I growl before I can stop myself. I clear my throat and shake off that stupidly possessive streak that keeps cropping up every time someone even mentions Dec and sex in the same sentence. “You’re not fucking the house staff.”
Darcy pulls in a huge breath and heaves a heavy sigh as he steps away. “What the fuck is happening in the world? Every fucking body is finding their fucking soul mates like that’s something as commonplace as a Grindr fuck.”
His expression wrinkles up in disgust, but the scent under that is longing. Darcy is barely human, yet he managed to inherit the human penchant for lying to both himself and others. I don’t know how humans manage to connect to each other at all when they hide so much of themselves. Darcy’s words and tone say he hates the idea of being in a relationship, but his scent tells methat he wants that for himself. I wonder why he’s decided to deny himself that?
“What are you talking about?” Uncle asks curiously, following Darcy as he heads for the door.
“Everyone finding their fucking soul mate.” Darcy waves between me and the door. “Damn near everyone I know has discovered their one true love. I was pretty fucking sure that humans didn’t even have soul mates, but right now I’m surrounded by so many fucking soul pairs, I itch just thinking about it. My favorite gargoyle and that bunny you hired are just the latest in a very disturbing trend.”
Uncle’s delight is palpable even as denial erupts from me. “Dec is not my mate! I’m waiting for that until I get back to Ukon.”
Uncle giggles like the old man he is. “Oh my boy, you don’t get to choose where your mate shows up. Better get to it; Dec isn’t going to just wait around for you to make a move.” He suddenly turns to Darcy. “Did you say he’s a rabbit shifter?”
Darcy shakes his head. “Nah. He’s got a little bunny in there, but he doesn’t have the magic to shift. Fortunately for our boy here, there’s enough magic to complete the mate bond y’all decided was a good fucking idea to have as part of your physiology.”
I stall out as my brain denies that I have a mate, but my body heats up like I do. Darcy and Uncle leave me frozen on the sofa trying to get my mind and body back in alignment. There is no way that Darcy can predict that Dec is my mate. Mating is a choice, not a destiny. Anyone could be a gargoyle mate if they have the magic to complete the mate bond, but it’d be ridiculous to think Dec is...
“Dec is not my mate,” I whisper as I finally unfreeze.
Is he?
Chapter nine
