Authors: Faith Gibson
Rafael
Rafael
Stone Society Book 1
Faith Gibson
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976,
the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book
without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the
author’s intellectual property. Thank you for your support of the author’s
rights.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents
are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance
to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and
trademark owners of the wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction.
Copyright © 2014 by Faith Gibson
Published by Faith Gibson
First ebook edition: November 2014
First print edition: November 2014
Cover design by KPG
ISBN 10: 0692311955
ISBN 13: 978-0692311950
This book is intended for mature audiences only.
Dedication
To Jennifer – from a telephone conversation, this series was born. Your
ideas and your comments have helped shape it into something stellar. You are
forever my girl.
To
the man – thank you for putting up with the out-of-the blue epiphanies and
random plot ideas as we’re walking the dogs or driving down the road, and just
basically dealing with my absence mentally as I get engrossed in all things
Gargoyle. I love you.
Acknowledgements
As always, I have to thank my writing posse: Kendall, Jen,
and Nikki - you encourage me to color outside the lines.
Thank you to Alex B, Sharon B and Tanya R for reading Rafael
and loving him as much as I do. And for telling me you’re ready for more
Gargoyles.
KPG – You took an idea and a few pictures and turned them
into an amazing cover. That right there is priceless.
Kendall
FG, the best f’n PA a girl could want. You keep me from coloring too far
outside the lines, my little comma queen.
To
the ladies at Tasty Wordgasms, thank you for blogging and pimping me. It is
mucho appreciated.
Jen, this book is all you, baby. Thank you for all your stellar ideas and
for being there with me non-stop. You keep me sane.
2014
As the beautiful
redhead paced back and forth, cooing her equally beautiful baby girl, Dr. Jonas
Montague examined a baby boy. The woman would stop and peer over the doctor’s
shoulder to check out the notations he was making about her other child. The
doctor didn’t utter a sound until he had written the last note. As carefully as
his mother would, Dr. Montague redressed the boy then picked him up gently and
held him close to his chest.
The doctor’s
hair and clothes were disheveled as if he hadn’t slept in days. Still, there
was an air of excitement about him that couldn’t be suppressed by lack of
sleep. Grinning, he said, “We did it my dear. He is as healthy as his sister.”
The examination
room door burst open. Dr. Montague’s assistant, Julia, was frantic. “Jonas,
there’s a man here demanding to see you. He said his name’s Flanagan. He’s
ranting about
his
wife and
his
child.”
“No, Uncle, NO.”
The redhead was in full blown panic mode.
Calmly, Jonas
handed the baby to Julia and instructed them both, “We are prepared for this.
Remember the plan. Julia, you take the boy, and both of you get to the tunnel,
now.”
The loud
commotion that was Gordon Flanagan became even louder as he closed in on them.
Jonas waited until the two women disappeared through a secret panel in the wall
behind a bookcase and then stepped through the door to the lobby. A mammoth of
a man rushed him, catching him by the throat. “Where is she? What have you done
with my wife?”
Montague
couldn’t breathe much less respond. “Answer me!” Gordon yelled as he threw the
doctor up against the nearest wall. He hit so hard the sheetrock dented. Jonas
had to give the women time to get away. Far away.
Holding his
hands up defensively, knowing it would do no good, he tried to catch his
breath. Flanagan loomed above him, face red from the obvious rise in his blood
pressure. “I will kill you with my bare hands if you don’t tell me what you
have done with my wife.”
The front door
to the building flew open, and a man dressed in black military style fatigues
strode to Flanagan. “Sir, we need to leave. We just received a tip that the
rioters are making their move today, now.”
Flanagan glanced
down at the doctor who appeared to have lost consciousness. He kicked him in
the ribs, “Wake up and tell me where she is!” His voice thundered throughout
the building. The doctor slumped even farther toward the floor.
“Sir, we have to
move out now.” The man made his way to the door, holding it for Gordon.
Realizing he was
going to get nothing out of the doctor, Flanagan followed his guard outside.
They’d barely cleared the building when the first explosion hit.
The Mayans got
it right. Almost. The bombing of Dr. Jonas Montague’s clinic in Atlanta,
Georgia by a group of religious heretics set off a chain of events that left
the world in a state of de-evolution. The country was divided, literally.
Bombings across America caused the underground fault lines to fissure. The
result was a canyon as large as the one named Grand, splitting the US of A
almost exactly in half. Civil wars broke out. Governments crumbled.
Worldwide travel
was halted for many years as humanity fell to a level dating back to biblical
times. Dr. Montague’s notes on human cloning were scattered causing mass chaos.
His body was never recovered, and after several years he was finally declared
dead. The cloning research he perfected was eventually achieved once again, and
cloning became routine.
When Gordon
Flanagan’s wife disappeared with their daughter, he lost his mind. His twin
brother, Magnus, also disappeared. It was assumed that Magnus took the baby
that was cloned from his niece, but it couldn’t be proven. Thirty-three years passed
and none of them surfaced. Gordon blamed both his brother and Montague for
ripping his family in two, and he vowed to find them all, no matter what it
took.
Being one of the
richest men in America, he used his money and abused his power to put his hat
into the cloning ring. Since most of the military unraveled in the wars, Gordon
Flanagan began building his own army. The experimentation by his team of
scientists skirted the fringes of ethical. Eventually, those fringes unraveled,
and the humans that volunteered to serve Flanagan slowly lost their humanity.
The cloning that
produced healthy, intelligent babies met little opposition. The religious
zealots that marched against and eventually leveled Montague’s clinic claimed
all clones were unholy and damned by God. Over the years, the media adopted the
name Unholy for those less than human clones that were being created by Gordon
Flanagan. His clones were a mixture of super soldier and monster.
The leaders of
the nation began rebuilding but found they couldn’t contain the Unholy. Without
the necessary military intact, the people needed a miracle. What they got was
The Stone Society.
1
Present Day, 2047
The streets of
New Atlanta were in utter chaos. Rafael Stone, King of the Gargouille, rarely
flew on scouting missions. However, with the Unholy wreaking havoc at every
turn, he wasn’t about to sit on the sidelines and allow his brothers to have
all the fun. He may be the leader of the Stone Society, but he wasn’t afraid to
get his claws dirty. He streamlined his wings and flew right into the middle of
a group of the monsters who were battling each other.
Something about
this felt wrong. Rafe quickly took out four of the Unholy only to find five
more ready to take their place. “What the fuck is going on, Rafe?” Frey, one of
his Clan, was guarding his back. “Why are they fighting each other?”
“That is a good
question. It’s like they were sent on a suicide mission to draw us out. I’m
going to have a look around.” Rafe launched himself back into the sky and flew
around the city, taking in the fighting down below. The Unholy were rarely seen
in public but when they were, they weren’t known to fight amongst themselves.
Their job was to target humans. Rafael didn’t care if they took each other out.
That was less scum he had to put in the Basement at the prison. The fighting
was mass confusion, and it reeked of a distraction. From what, he didn’t know.
As he passed
over each of his brothers below, he let out a loud whistle, calling them back.
When Rafael had gathered everyone, they flew to his office to regroup. Stone,
Incorporated was situated on the top floor of the Walnut Street Towers so that
he and the Clan could land on the back side of the building without being seen
by others.
Once they were
assembled in his office he said, “Whatever is going on out there doesn’t sit
well with me. It felt like a diversion. Frey, you and your men take the north
quadrant. Jules, head south. Nikolas, take your team and head west. I will
contact Gregor and tell him to check around the Pen, and then I will go east.
Let them kill each other and then whoever’s left we will load up for the
Basement. Keep an eye out to see where they are not fighting. That will be
where the real danger lies.”
Rafael’s younger
brother, Gregor, was the Warden at the penitentiary. Once he had given him a
heads up, Rafe headed back to the skies. There was something amiss this night,
and he needed to find out what.
Police Chief
Kaya Kane walked the length of the loading dock where the bodies of eleven delegates
from the World Council were stretched along the edge: bound, gagged, dead.
Twelve delegates had disappeared, so there was still a body missing. Make that
a person missing. Kaya was going to assume the twelfth was still alive until
she saw a body.
Fucking hell.
Kaya had tried several times to convince Governor Jackson Wallace that New
Atlanta was no place to hold the World Council Delegation, especially with the
Vice President of the United States in attendance. Wallace had argued that the
near apocalyptical mess that ruined Atlanta happened a long time ago and this
conference was just the thing that was needed to bring some positive light back
to their once fair city.
“Find out who
owns this building. I want a name and number,” Kaya told her lead detective,
Dane Abbott. She already knew the building would belong to Stone, Incorporated.
Rafael Stone and his family owned most of the real estate in New Atlanta,
whether it was gorgeous downtown architecture or an abandoned warehouse.
Kaya stood back
out of the way, allowing the Crime Scene Unit to do their job while she thought
about the mysterious man. She had never met the elusive Mr. Stone, at least not
that one. The Stone name popped up all over New Atlanta from the prison to the
hospital to the airport. The family’s fingerprints were on just about every pot
in the city.
She had met a
couple of his relatives: his brother Gregor, and his cousin Geoffrey. Both men
were intense. Gregor, the Warden at the penitentiary, represented the name
Stone well. He was hard, cold, and unmoving. Geoffrey Hartley, owner of the gym
where she had trained in martial arts for several years, was just as stern as
his cousin.
Dane returned
with the information she asked for. “Stone, Incorporated. I put in a call to
Stone’s office, but he wasn’t available so I left a message with his assistant.
Here’s his number.”
Kaya took the
piece of paper from Dane and put it in her jacket pocket. She wouldn’t hold her
breath for a phone call from the man himself. No, someone as powerful as Rafael
Stone would employ minions to take calls, make appearances, see to the little
people.
“Has CSU come up
with COD?” Cause of Death was not clearly detectable. Other than the ligature
marks from the ropes binding their hands, there were no visible signs of trauma
to the bodies.
Dane shook his
head. “They will have to take the bodies back to the lab and run some tests.
Some type of injection is Dante’s first guess. He’s already called for the
buses to come retrieve the victims. Speak of the devil.”
Dante Di Pietro,
medical examiner, approached with a scowl on his face. It was a look Kaya never
got used to. Standing well over six foot tall, the ME was handsome in a rugged
sort of way. He spoke with a slight accent that might be Italian. It wasn’t
prominent and came and went depending on his mood. The moodier he was, the
thicker the accent. “Chief Kane, with your permission I will take the bodies
and begin testing. Upon initial observation, I believe the victims to have been
poisoned but until I get them to my lab, I am only speculating.”
“Of course,
Dante. Please keep me posted.” He didn’t bother to respond, just nodded to both
Kaya and Dane and stalked off. “Friendly sort.” Dane muttered.
“I don’t give a
rat’s ass if he’s friendly or not as long as he discovers the COD. Come on, we
have a missing person to find.” Kaya’s cell phone vibrated on her hip. She
pulled it out of its holder and without looking at the caller ID she answered,
“Kane.”
“Chief Kane,
this is Willow Bridges, assistant to Mr. Rafael Stone. He asked that I call and
provide any information you might need.”
“I will need to
speak to Mr. Stone personally since he is the owner of a building involved in a
crime scene. No offense, sweetheart, but this is a police matter. If he cannot
oblige me by returning my call, I will have a police officer escort him to the
precinct. Please tell him it’s his choice.” Kaya hung up her cell phone. She
was used to dealing with men such as Rafael Stone. She would not be bullied.
Dane was
smirking at her. He flirted with her constantly, but she did not fraternize
with her employees even if they were gorgeous blonds with eyes the color of the
clearest sea in the Caribbean. Dane was former military and a damn good cop. If
they were ever in a desperate situation, she knew he would have her back.
Besides, she knew the type of women he went after, and it wasn’t older women
who were tall and on the thick side. He chased those young, petite girls.
“What?”
She didn’t bother waiting for an answer. There was a delegate missing and the
longer they stood around, the less chance that person had of living. “Do we
know who the twelfth person is?”
“Yeah, Magnus
Flanagan.”
She stopped
walking. “You have got to be kidding me. Magnus Flanagan as in Gordon
Flanagan’s brother?”
“One in the
same.”
“This just went
from a bad dream to a fucking nightmare. And speaking of nightmares, how in the
hell did
she
get wind of this?”
Dane turned from
his scowling boss to see Katherine Fox and the Channel 5 news crew van pulling
into the lot. Once parked, the petite reporter slid out of the passenger seat,
landing on five inch stiletto heels with the grace of a ballerina. Flipping
open her notepad, she stopped Dante before he could get into his SUV.
“No worries,
Boss, I got this.” Dane headed toward the auburn-haired beauty before Kaya
could stop him.
“Yeah, I just
bet you do,” Kaya mumbled. “Get rid of her then meet me at the hotel. We need
to interview the other delegates.” Dane gave her a two-fingered salute over his
head letting her know he heard.
An albino
looking brute leaned against an older model van; long legs crossed at the ankle
while smoking a cigarette. Pulling off a kidnapping of this scale would secure
his place in Mr. Flanagan’s organization. The cigarette was down to the filter
as he sucked in one last lungful of nicotine then flicked the butt to the
ground. A black sedan with dark windows pulled up, stopping just short of his
boots. The driver’s door opened, and a man dressed in black camouflage angled
out. He stalked around to the passenger side and opened the back door. Mr.
Flanagan himself slid out of the car.
Without a thank
you or a job well done, he rounded the car and demanded, “Where is he?”
The kidnapper thumbed over his shoulder at the building. Flanagan
headed that direction, telling him, “I’ll be in touch.”
