Stone Sentinel Read online

  Stone Sentinel: A Beautiful Monsters Story

  Jex Lane

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental—or used with permission.

  Stone Sentinel: A Beautiful Monsters Story © 2017 by Jex Lane. All rights reserved.

  Beautiful Monsters™ is a trademark of Jex Lane.

  JexLane.com

  Edited by Michelle Rascon

  Cover Art by Jenx

  Typography by Mariah Sinclair

  BeMos—this one’s for you!

  Special thanks to my beta readers: Clau, Lucía, Sydney, Nicci, Jamie, Matt, Michelle, and Steve.

  They dropped everything last minute to read this one.

  Description

  As a gargoyle, Jet would prefer to spend his days sitting on the corner of a building, but when Samantha insists that Krampus is going to ruin Christmas, the two of them set off on an adventure to stop the creature.

  At least that’s the plan. First, they have to convince Warlord Tarrick that Krampus is not only real, but the reason incubi children have gone missing…

  Note: This novella is told from the point of view of Jet, a gargoyle who sometimes takes the form of a Rottweiler. This is not a standalone story. It is meant to be read after Broken: Beautiful Monsters Vol. 3.

  25k words

  Reading order:

  1. Captive: Beautiful Monsters Vol. 1

  2. Sire: Beautiful Monsters Vol. 2

  3. Broken: Beautiful Monsters Vol. 3

  4. Stone Sentinel: A Beautiful Monsters Story

  5. Blood Prince: Beautiful Monsters Vol. 4—coming 2018

  Table of Contents

  Description

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  About the Author

  CHAPTER ONE

  JET

  Stronghold 19. Current leader: Warlord Bryson. Brazil.

  Jet had two stones.

  The responsibility of taking on even a single stone was a burden most gargoyles never bothered with. It meant a lot of moving around. Walking, talking, flying. It meant reforming their rock bodies into a fleshy animal to hide their nature. It meant keeping the stone safe. Protecting the stone.

  And Jet’s stones got in more trouble than most.

  Still, even if they were a lot of work, he loved them both.

  Jet felt the sun go down. This deep underground, he hadn’t seen the sun in weeks. He usually preferred a higher vantage point—easier to keep vigil from above—but he didn’t mind being surrounded by rocks and dirt.

  Fate-Pebble stirred in her bed.

  Gavyn (also called ‘baby’, ‘honey’, ‘darling’, ‘sexy’, and ‘conduit’) finished putting on his gloves. Unlike the other hunters, Gavyn’s leather uniform left his arms, chest, and back exposed, displaying magic-laced tattoos up and down his thin frame. Sometimes, those tattoos moved; Jet always enjoyed watching them reposition.

  On his face, Gavyn had no tattoos, but metal bits pierced the skin. Jet had no idea why a fleshling would want those, but Fate-Pebble liked them. She said they went well with his black messy hair.

  Jet had heard Rage-Boulder mutter “fucking rock star wannabe” under his breath a few times. Unsure what a ‘rock star’ was, Jet decided it must be a good thing. Rocks were the best.

  And even if Rage-Boulder disapproved, Fate-Pebble loved Gavyn and he made her happy, so Jet decided he liked him also.

  Jet—currently in his flesh-dog form, a Rottweiler—crawled up the bed and licked Fate-Pebble’s face. Still mostly sleeping, she frowned and pulled the down comforter over her head.

  “Let her sleep in, bud. Her visions were intense yesterday,” Gavyn said, sliding a silver dagger into its sheath on his belt.

  “No, s’kay,” Fate-Pebble muttered. “I need to feed anyway.” She sat up, pushing the blankets from her, her vampire fangs already down, eyes red instead of her usual silver. She zeroed in on Gavyn’s neck and a little growl came from her. “Goddess, I wish my father would finish his transformation already. I want to drink from you so bad. Maybe we could try that thing where you teleport away…”

  Gavyn pressed his hand to his neck. “Fuck no. You ripped open my jugular last time we tried. We’ll wait for the Blood Prince.”

  She frowned. “But—”

  “No.”

  Her little growl grew louder.

  “You want me to stake you? Don’t think I won’t.”

  She sighed and flopped back down into the bed. “Can we at least have sex?”

  Gavyn began removing the gloves he had just put on, an excited grin stretching across his face. “I’m going to miss this particular side effect of Matthew’s transformation…”

  “I won’t. All I can think about is having you inside me all the time. It makes it so awkward when giving prophecy to an incubus…they think I’m coming on to them.”

  “They can believe whatever they want, so long as it’s my dick you’re thinking about.” With one hand undoing his pant laces, Gavyn leaned in and kissed her. She moaned against his mouth, arching her body into his. When she began to paw at his abs and pants, he broke away.

  “Please…” she begged.

  Jet collapsed down onto the mattress and let out a heavy sigh. They’d be at this for a while. It was always the same: lots of pressing lips against flesh. Fingers would travel into places Jet didn’t think fingers should travel. They’d moan. They’d fuck. They’d say each other’s names a lot until they came.

  Boring.

  The sounds stopped, and Jet looked up to see both staring at him, their clothes still half on.

  Gavyn pointed at the door. “Go check on Matthew, bud.”

  Jet didn’t want to check on Rage-Boulder.

  The demigod’s powers were finally unbound—whatever that meant—and he spent his days putting his erect member into whatever hole was offered to him. During Jet’s time sitting on Ashwood Estate, he had seen plenty of incubi go through their transformations. None had been as extreme as this one.

  The worst part was that Rage-Boulder didn’t seem to recognize Jet. Or anyone.

  Fate-Pebble scratched behind Jet’s ears in the way that made his tail wag. “Go say hi to Devak. I’ll be there in a little while…and then you and I are going on an adventure.”

  Okay.

  Jet liked Devak. He hopped off the bed.

  “Wait,” Gavyn said. Jet stopped, but it wasn’t him being addressed. “What do you mean you and Jet are going on an adventure?”

  Fate-Pebble shrugged. “We have to save Christmas. Don’t worry about it. We’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah. You’ll be fine because you’re not going anywhere.”

  She wiggled under his body. “If you say so.”

  “Sam—”

  “Hm?”

  “You’re not leaving here. It’s too risky. All of the High King’s army is looking for you.”

  “Okay. Can we get back to the sex now?” She moved her pelvis upwards and pressed against his clothing-trapped erection.

  Gavyn’s eyes rolled up and the discussion seemed to be over.

  Jet didn’t understand why Gavyn contradicted Fate-Pebble so often. She was an oracle after all. And what she said came true. Later
tonight, Jet would be going on an adventure to save Christmas. He’d accepted it.

  When Jet got to the stone door, he bumped it with his nose.

  Gavyn sneered. “Freakin’ shapeshift.”

  Nah. If they were going to kick him out, they’d have to open the door for him. He sat down and whined for affect.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” With a flash of green light, Gavyn appeared beside him, clinging on to leather pants that threatened to fall off. “Don’t think I’ll forget this,” he said as he opened the door. “Out.”

  Jet left, the door slamming shut behind him. As he made his way down the reinforced dirt tunnel, younger vampires and incubi fled while the older ones eyed him with suspicion.

  The power a gargoyle exuded made others nervous. And rightfully so…their strength came from the planet itself.

  Four long corridors later, Jet approached a team of hunters standing guard outside a set of doors. Without prompting, the hunters opened the door for him. Leading to more doors with more guards, who again, made no effort to stop him.

  Magic runes lined the walls, glowing green as they worked the spell weaved into them. These ones prevented scrying and eavesdropping. Jet hated the runes. If Rage-Boulder called to him, he couldn’t hear the summons. Fate-Pebble assured him there was no need to worry, but his nature mandated that he watch over his stones.

  When he arrived outside of Rage-Boulder’s room, the hunters there made no move to open the door for him.

  One raised his wrist to his mouth. “Guardian, the Blood Prince’s dog, er, gargoyle is here. I know you ordered no one is to enter today but…”

  The Blood Prince’s dog? Nope. Rage-Boulder belonged to Jet, not the other way around. Not that he’d correct the humans. That’d mean talking.

  “Tell Jet that the prince is having an…aggressive night. And the power the gargoyle radiates might set him off further,” a voice came from the hunter’s earpiece. Devak. He sounded breathless and grunts could be heard.

  The hunter looked at Jet. “Er, you can’t go in. The Blood Prince is aggressive tonight.”

  Why did humans always assume gargoyles had bad hearing? They could hear better than a vampire.

  Jet sat down. He’d wait for Fate-Pebble.

  “I don’t think he understands,” the hunter said into his comm. “He’s just sitting here.”

  “That’s what gargoyles do. I’ll be out in a few moments.” A loud growl came through the comm right before it abruptly cut off.

  Jet froze in place. The hunters around him were uneasy, but they took no aggressive actions. Not that Jet was worried; they couldn’t hurt him unless they had magic enchanted weapons.

  Sometime later—although Jet wasn’t sure how long, time didn’t really matter to a creature made of stone—the door finally opened.

  The smells and sounds of copulation assaulted his nose and he caught a glimpse of Rage-Boulder, naked and pacing, stretching massive wings behind him. In his unbound form—to use Fate-Pebble’s terms—he had spiky protrusions jutting out from dark grey skin. Given Rage-Boulder’s new larger size, Jet hoped he hadn’t played with Devak in that form.

  A figure emerged from the room. Bright and glowing white. Blood red tendrils trailed behind him.

  Over the months they’d traveled together, Jet realized that his stones—or anyone for that matter—couldn’t see the guardian in his true form.

  Sometimes Jet would try to guess how Devak appeared to them. To date, he’d deduced that the guardian looked like a vampire. Attractive, based on how others reacted to him, and around the same height as Fate-Pebble. Oh, and Rage-Boulder enjoyed Devak’s cock and butthole quite a bit.

  Jet didn’t understand the appeal, but fleshlings enjoyed all sorts of strange stuff. Especially when it came to sex.

  But how the guardian appeared to them didn’t really matter.

  Devak was light and blood and power.

  And sometimes he got so bright that Jet couldn’t look at him without burning.

  At least the chains were gone now.

  The door closed before Rage-Boulder had noticed Jet.

  Devak leaned down and his warm hand began to stroke Jet’s fur. He leaned into the touch, thankful no other gargoyles were around. They’d make fun of him if they found out he liked being petted.

  “Not tonight,” Devak said. His voice ethereal and otherworldly. “Something has him upset. I might have to request that Warlord Bryson evacuate the bunker.”

  That bad? Rage-Boulder hadn’t lost control in a while.

  “Will Sam be here soon?” Devak asked.

  Jet nodded.

  “Good. I’ve tried everything. Maybe she can settle him.”

  Yes. Maybe. Then they’d be going on an adventure to save Christmas. Devak returned to the room and Jet waited. Fate-Pebble showed up wearing a pretty floral dress. She’d showered, but the scent of her recent activities still clung to her. Rage-Boulder might not like that, but he was always gentle with her. Gavyn though…it was a good thing he could teleport far away.

  Fate-Pebble entered the room without anyone stopping her.

  Jet waited.

  And waited.

  The changing of shifts for the guards marked the passing hours.

  If they were going on an adventure, Fate-Pebble needed to hurry up.

  Eventually, she came out and ran her still-cold fingers over Jet’s shoulders. She hadn’t fed tonight.

  “Father’s okay,” she said. “More confused today than usual. Don’t worry, I’ll get some blood tomorrow. Ready for our adventure?”

  Yes. Yes, he was.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Jet and Fate-Pebble waited in the room that housed the leystone. It was a new addition to the bunker, added by the incubi and witches. Risky, given that the High King’s forces could use leystones as well, but Jet overheard them saying they found a way to make an off-the-grid network of new stones.

  A green flash filled the room.

  “Command said you needed to go somewhere. What do you think you’re doing?” Gavyn asked.

  Fate-Pebble smiled. “Oh good. You’re here. I need you to teleport me to Washington.”

  “And why do you need to go to Washington?”

  “Ascelina.”

  Gavyn lifted his pierced brow. “No. You aren’t leaving. You can call her.”

  Fate-Pebble took out a phone from her pocket and pressed some buttons. A male voice answered, “Sam?”

  Fate-Pebble glared at her boyfriend. “My hunter bodyguard won’t teleport me to Washington so I can talk to Ascelina. I need you to send me new bodyguards.”

  “Hand the phone to Gavyn,” the vampire on the other end said.

  She held out the phone and Gavyn snatched it. “Warlord Bryson—”

  “If you don’t go with her, she’ll find some other way to get there. Ascelina’s territory hasn’t had any incidents tonight. Have her home in a few hours.”

  Gavyn shook his head but said, “Yes, sir.” He tossed the phone back to Fate-Pebble. “You understand that if anything happens to you—anything—it means this whole civil war will not only fall apart, but Matthew will kill every fucking living thing he finds.”

  “Yep.”

  “Fine.” Using his comm, Gavyn ordered the rest of his team to join them. Green flashes filled the room as the other five hunters appeared. “Priority is keeping the oracle safe. Raxic, when we teleport in, ascertain any threats from Ascelina’s commander.” Without waiting for acknowledgement from his team member, Gavyn put his hand on the sizeable leystone.

  The runes carved into the boulder began to glow green as the magic activated to teleport them to Washington. That is until Fate-Pebble touched the stone and they flashed white.

  The teleport still went through, and when they materialized, they weren’t in Washington.

  And Gavyn and his team were missing—sent elsewhere by whatever Fate-Pebble had done.

  Jet and Fate-Pebble now stood in a fortress. Old. The stones whispered
to Jet, telling of its construction and hardships.

  “We’re in Norway,” Fate-Pebble said. “The time difference from Brazil to here is about four hours. We need to pick up one more person then we’ll finish our adventure tomorrow night. Follow close.”

  Jet sensed hunters and incubi here. Vampires had passed through recently, and the lack of fresh blood indicated they were allies. This was an insurgent holding. Rage-Boulder’s new group.

  Fate-Pebble walked down the drafty stone corridor, her trajectory uneven to avoid crumbling debris. Before turning a corner, she paused. A team of hunters patrolled down the other passageway, not noticing Jet or Fate-Pebble. When they passed by, she continued; her pace erratic, speeding up or slowing down to weave through the place unseen.

  Not many knew she could use her future-seeing abilities to know when someone would be somewhere, or when they wouldn’t. Sometimes she was so accurate with it, she could pass through a crowded room as if invisible by being wherever people weren’t looking.

  Jet had learned to stay at her heels when she did this or he’d mess it up.

  He did wonder why Fate-Pebble needed to sneak around now. These were allies.

  They went up a flight of stairs, walking past a succubus making out with a human, and stopped outside a set of double wooden doors.

  “Okay this part is going to be tricky, so keep up. And I need you to look menacing. Spikes are enough.”

  Jet could do menacing. He stayed in his dog form but two rows of spikes, starting at his forehead and running down his back, emerged. Fate-Pebble looked him over. “Wings.” He brought his black wings out. “Perfect. Ready?”

  He nodded.

  She carefully pushed open the door and slipped in. Jet followed, closing the door behind him, and took three steps to the left. A hunter team stood guard in the rounded antechamber.