Hard as Rock Read online

  “It’s a costume. We were at a masquerade,” Roc reassured the woman when she continued to stare.

  “Oh, I see. I think someone called the police already. They should arrive soon,” the woman said then kindly shooed the other nosy hotel guests away.

  “What happened, angel?” Roc tried to keep the snarl out of his voice as he looked at the busted lamp and her clothes strewn on the floor.

  “I didn’t see him. He had a mask. But I scratched him.” Meline showed him her nails. The notion that she had to defend herself with those benign things made him see red.

  If I get my hands on the bastard, I’ll show him claws. His fingers flexed, itching to release the claws he usually kept retracted.

  Roc sniffed, attempting to pick apart the scents in the room. Lavender hung heavy in the air, along with the salty scent of her tears.

  I got you, Roc nearly grinned in triumph when he picked up the odor of dirty sweat and motor oil clinging to Meline. He was glad to have something to track the bastard who did this, but at the same time, he wanted to wash it off her, as if that would wipe away what happened here. How dare the fucker touch her. He made a point to memorize the scent.

  “My purse! He stole my purse and my bag with all my family info,” Meline exclaimed as she frantically looked around. She scrambled off the bed and stood on wobbly legs as she searched the room. “What am I going to do?”

  “Don’t worry about that right now,” he insisted and meant it. Yes, Nicolas’ diary was gone and possibly his lead on finding the sigil, but that was the furthest thing from his mind.

  “Don’t worry?! All my money is gone. What am I going to do for the next two weeks?” she cried as she stared at her clothes strewn everywhere.

  Roc was about to comment when his gaze landed on a flicker of gold near the baseboard.

  “Is this yours?” he asked and picked it up.

  “No. Maybe I knocked it off the guy who attacked me.”

  A bad feeling struck as he studied the lapel pin. The bald man who’d been talking on his phone outside Chateau Frontenac had been wearing the same symbol, a compass rose with an actual flower in the center. Even if Meline hadn’t commented on the nosy man, he would’ve noticed the guy. The man reeked of Old Spice, like he’d bathed in it. But the stinky spy couldn’t be her assailant. His scent wasn’t in the room. No, the asshole that did this had to be someone else wearing the same unique pin.

  Dammit. This wasn’t a run of the mill robbery. He wasn’t the only one who’d been following Meline.

  Or maybe it wasn’t Meline they were after. Over the centuries, groups of humans had become aware of Khargals, each with their own crazy reason for hunting them.

  “Meline, you’ll stay with me. This place isn’t safe,” he insisted. Until he figured out what was going on, he wasn’t going to let her out of his sight.

  “Okay.” Her shoulders slumped in defeat.

  6

  Meline

  “John, I managed to lose my keys,” Roc called out as he knocked on the door of his penthouse.”

  “That happens a lot, sir,” a skinny, gray-haired man said as he answered the door. “Oh, my apologies, you’ve brought a guest. Welcome, madame.” He bowed.

  “Meline will be staying with us. She was attacked at her hotel.” Roc set her suitcase down in the large foyer.

  “Oh dear, come in. I’ll go make some chamomile tea to calm your nerves. Or perhaps you’d prefer a stiff drink?”

  Meline nodded.

  “That was a yes to the stiff drink. Little John can’t see you nodding,” he explained.

  “Oh, sorry. Yes, please.” She pulled out of her haze and studied John’s unfocused stare.

  “Don’t apologize. You relax, and I’ll see to everything, well, in a manner of speaking.” John smiled.

  “Jokes, right now? Seriously, John,” Roc admonished.

  She snorted in amusement. “No, it’s fine. I could use a little levity. I wasn’t hurt, so I should be thankful for that.”

  It really was a blessing.

  “Thank heavens for that.” John toddled off.

  “But you were hurt,” Roc growled as he scowled at her torn sleeve.

  She looked up at him, grateful he showed up when he did. After the way they parted, she never expected to see him again.

  “I’m fine. Just a little bruised. Why did you come back?”

  “I heard you scream.” Roc’s brow furrowed in concern.

  “Oh.”

  “Are you sure you’re fine?” He gingerly touched her arm.

  “Yes, I’m fine. It probably angered the guy when I tried to gouge out his eyes. He tossed me into the bedside table.” She shivered, reliving the moment.

  “Were you supposed to just let him accost you?” Roc snarled, menace flashing in his steely eyes. “Now that you’re safely here with John, I’m going back to that hotel.”

  Anger contorted his features, making his brow appear sharper. He was truly pissed she’d been attacked.

  “Please stay. I don’t know what else you’ll find that the police can’t.” She put a hand on his arm to stop him as he headed for the door.

  “I have my ways. I told you, Meline, you don’t really know who I am,” he rumbled, seeming hell bent on finding her assailant.

  “No, you’re right, I don’t. And you don’t really know me. You’ve already kindly given me a place to stay, so I don’t have any right to impose, but I don’t want to be alone right now.”

  He looked conflicted, a deep crease furrowing his brow. “Meline, we need to talk—”

  “Here we are. Would you like this in the parlor?” John interrupted as he entered the foyer holding a tray with two glasses of ice and a decanter.

  Meline took a look around the penthouse as she followed Roc and John to the living room. It was spectacularly decorated with modern décor and paintings on nearly every wall. John set the tray on the glass coffee table and she took a seat on the long black sofa.

  “If you need anything else, just call,” John said after expertly pouring two glasses.

  “Thank you,” she said as he left.

  The need to apologize hung heavy on her mind, but she didn’t know how to even begin. With the way he came to her rescue it was obvious Roc wasn’t a total asshole. He didn’t deserve the reaming she gave him for not wanting to sleep with her. She grabbed one of the glasses and took a big swig to calm her nerves. The whiskey burned going down, making her choke and sputter.

  “Easy.” He frowned at her as he sat in the leather chair nearby. His dark wings conveniently arched over the low back.

  “Thank you for keeping me company, and for all this. You didn’t have to give me a place to stay after my behavior. I’m sorry, by the way. I feel like such a fool. Don’t worry, I won’t impose on you long. I’ll be heading home as soon as I can get replacement keys for my car.”

  “Don’t apologize. You should’ve yelled at me. I was coming on to you, because I like you, but I’ve got no right, not after what I’ve done and who I am.” After draining his glass, he poured himself another.

  “I don’t understand.”

  He wasn’t making any sense again. Meline frowned and took another gulp of whiskey. It went down much smoother this time.

  “I don’t think you were robbed for your money. That bald man outside Chateau Frontenac was wearing the same pin as the one we found in your room.”

  Her heart sped up and she started to hyperventilate at Roc’s observation. She finished her whiskey and he was ready with the decanter to pour her more.

  “I thought someone was watching me. I felt it since the night I arrived. I thought I was crazy. Who would follow me? I’m nobody. Less than nobody.” She took another large drink.

  Who wears matching lapel pins? Some sort of freaky mafioso wannabes or a secret society of nut jobs, that’s who.

  “I was watching you,” Roc mumbled behind his glass.

  Her gaze flew to his.

  “Excuse me?” He
r voice rose an octave.

  “You weren’t crazy. I was following you.” Roc refused to make eye contact for the first time since they met.

  “That was you!” She abruptly stood, everything that happened today spiraling through her mind. “You’re behind what happened at the hotel?” Meline screeched.

  That’s why he invited me to that fancy party—to get me out of my room. Oh God, the guy at the reception table knew my full name! I never told Roc my last name. Meline clenched her fist, angry that she let Roc’s larger than life persona blind her. But why? It didn’t make sense. It doesn’t matter. She shook her head. I should’ve known this was too good to be true. How could I be so stupid?

  “No!” Roc growled and shot to his feet.

  Her eyes widened when his fake wings shot wide, the clawed tips bristling, making him look even more imposing. Her fear spiked, and she backed up. She’d known Roc less than a day. She had no clue what he was truly capable of.

  “No. I would never.” He softened his voice and dropped back into his seat. “Please hear me out.” He held up his hands.

  “I’m listening.” Meline halted her retreat, but kept a wary eye on him.

  “The other night when you visited the archaeological site, I overheard you mention your ancestor, Nicolas Peltier, and recognized the name. Your ancestor and one of mine were good friends. So, I followed you to your hotel and then again when you went sightseeing. But I didn’t send that goon to your room.”

  “Okay,” she drew out the word and started pacing, trying to get a grip on the emotions assailing her. Roc had been very upset about the assault, he hadn’t seemed to manufacture the reaction. So maybe he was telling the truth. “Why didn’t you just introduce yourself?”

  “You’re saying me creeping up on you at night as you walked alone wouldn’t have freaked you out?”

  “Well, when you put it that way, you have a point.” Meline paused as she thought of how they did meet, and her eyes narrowed on him. “Wait, then why didn’t you say something at the bookstore? Or at the party?”

  “I could say our meeting at the shop was so brief I didn’t have a chance to bring it up, but that would be a lie. Or at the party, you looked so damn hot I didn’t want to ruin it having this conversation, which is the truth, but hardly a decent excuse.” Roc’s lips twisted into a shit-eating grin.

  She blushed, the heat moving over her cheeks and down her chest. Meline shook her head, disgusted that she let the flirty comment derail her. Clearly the booze was messing with her.

  Focus!

  “Dammit, Roc, you’re flirting again,” she growled.

  “Fuck, I know.” He drained his glass a second time.

  “So, our ancestors were friends. As much as I’d love learning more about that, I’d never stalk someone. Do you know how freaking crazy that is?” she snapped at him, her fist balled up to keep from slapping his handsome stupid face.

  “I don’t think the truth’s going to make this any better.” He cringed.

  “Try me.”

  “So, my ancestor gave yours a valuable family heirloom, that looks like an elongated ruby set in precious metal. I thought that if I got a look at the journal you mentioned and could pick your brain, I’d find it.”

  Meline crossed her arms as she considered what Roc revealed. This explained what he was babbling about when he turned her down. If she learned all this after sleeping with him it really would’ve been a kick in the teeth. So, kudos to him for not being a total prick. It also reasoned that a treasure hunt for a family heirloom would peak his interest, he was an art collector. Hell, it had her intrigued. But as she looked at Roc, he appeared nervous and she got the feeling there was more.

  “What aren’t you telling me? If you didn’t pay that man to break into my room, why do you look so guilty?”

  “I would never pay someone to break in anywhere, or have a woman attacked. And when I find who’s behind this, I’ll make them wish they never laid a hand on you.”

  The way his voice rumbled with malice, she believed him. She almost felt sorry for the mugger if Roc ever got his hands on him.

  “Fine, you didn’t hire those guys. I’m sorry, but can you blame me for asking?”

  Roc’s shoulders slumped. “No, I can’t. And you’re right, I haven’t come clean about everything. A man like me has a lot of skeletons in his closet. But please, trust me, I don’t want to hurt you in any way.”

  Meline sat back down as she let all this sink in. So, he allowed his excitement over finding a long-lost family treasure overrule his common sense, but he’d come clean. However, that meant there was still someone out there who was after her.

  roc

  Confessing was a relief, but now Meline had him twisting on the end of a line as she sat quietly considering him. She seemed to relax, yet suspicion still danced in her eyes. For some inane reason he wanted to blurt every minute detail of his life, just to wipe that look off her face. He couldn’t bear the thought of her hating, fearing or distrusting him in any way. He worried if she pressed further he’d even tell her about Khargals and the real purpose behind the sigil; then she really would fear him. He couldn’t have that.

  “Tell me what you think is going on,” she finally spoke.

  “I’m not sure. Because of who I am, I’ve always had to be cautious. I generally stay very private.” Even if he didn’t have an ounce of Khargal blood, his acquired wealth and the means by which he obtained it would be enough reason to keep a low profile.

  “Except for tonight.”

  “Yes. I wanted a chance to mix with people.”

  “That’s why it was a masquerade and you donated the painting anonymously, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes. Sometimes the life I lead grows weary.”

  “I’m sorry.” Meline frowned and the sharp glint in her hazel eyes softened. Even the acrid biting scent screaming of anger and fear which had put him on edge shifted, replaced by something that reminded him of rain.

  His eyes widened realizing she genuinely meant what she said. If she only knew the half of it. And yet, strangely, her sympathy brought him comfort. He rarely got the chance to admit the way he felt, and it was even rarer someone truly heard him.

  “I shouldn’t complain,” he quickly added, and waved a hand toward his penthouse. It was unwise to dwell too long on the feelings she incited. “Anyway, I don’t know if those people went after you because they saw you with me and were trying to get to me. Or if they somehow learned about my family’s relic and want it, or a bit of both. But what I do know is anyone willing to hurt you over any of this is dangerous.” The bastards already proved that.

  “I don’t think they’re after you,” Meline replied as she considered what he said. “Before we met, some guy dressed like a tourist was following me. I ducked into the bookshop to get away from him, then dismissed it, certain I was just being paranoid. I’m nobody, who would stalk me, right? I hardly have a penny to my name, so it doesn’t make sense. But they must want something they think I have, so maybe it is your family heirloom.”

  That’s why she looked so startled in the bookshop. He’d been so focused on her he hadn’t noticed any of the other people on the street.

  Unbelievable guilt and anger assailed him as he thought about those bastards stalking her. Roc clenched the armrest to keep himself under control. The last thing he needed to do was shift. He already scared Meline enough with his last outburst.

  Those bastards might’ve found her first, but he had a strong suspicion ultimately this was about him. Like she said, what other reason did they have to stalk her? The question was, did the assholes have an inkling of his true identity or were they just glorified treasure hunters and thugs looking for the big score?

  “Perhaps it was a coincidence these people found you the same time I did. My family heirloom is very valuable. If they think you inherited it that would be enough to go through all this effort. What I want to know is how they learned about it when I’ve had no luck? Where di
d you get Nicolas’ journal?”

  “It was passed down to my dad. He used to belong to a genealogy website, so maybe he posted our family info on there. But, Roc, I don’t recall reading about any jewel or medallion in the journal.” Meline paused, her face going white. “Shit! When they don’t find mention of it either, do you think they’ll come back?” There was a tremor in her hand when she downed her glass of whiskey and the sharp fearful scent returned.

  He was disappointed when Meline mentioned not remembering any references to the sigil, but not surprised. This had been a long shot. What frustrated him more was she now worried the bastards behind this would come back for her.

  Moron, he cursed. She was just attacked. You could’ve let her have the night to recover before revealing the world is filled with wolves.

  Roc got up and moved to sit next to her.

  “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t discuss this now. You’ve been through enough for one evening.” He put his hand on hers. “I promise, nothing will happen to you. I won’t let it.”

  “I believe you. Thank you for everything and for telling me. I know it couldn’t have been easy.” Meline intertwined her fingers with his and squeezed his hand.

  Roc sighed in relief. He meant to console her, instead her forgiveness and the simple gesture brought him comfort. How she didn’t hate him after everything he admitted he’d never understand.

  She is an angel.

  “Let’s discuss something else, or maybe you want to take a shower and go to bed,” he suggested.

  “I don’t think I can sleep, but I would like to get out of this dress. I can’t believe that fucker tore it. This cost me sixty dollars and that was off the sale rack.” Meline pouted.

  “Forget about it. I will buy you ten more to replace it,” he reassured her.

  “Roc, you’re letting me stay here, you’re not going to buy me a new dress, too.” Meline stumbled as she stood.

  “Careful.” Roc jumped to his feet and wrapped an arm around her waist.

  “Shit, I’m so clumsy, and the booze probably hasn’t helped much. Can you imagine if I wore heels?” she snorted.