Rock Hard And Wet (BBW Paranormal Romance) (Nymphs Of New York) by Jennifer James Page B

against his head and growled.
    The other male rose to his full nine
foot height and snapped his wings out, then furled them tight to his back. He
turned, his irises hazed over with red, a sure sign of fury.
    “You dare endanger us
again over a female, Theo?”
    His hunting form made human speech
impossible, so he responded on the common telepathic link Booker used. He knew
the male meant for all the aerie to hear their conversation.
    “I endanger no one.
My life means nothing to the aerie. I am shunned.”
    Booker snarled, splayed his hands so
that his claw tipped hands glinted in the moonlight.
    “Trouble follows when
you mate with those outside our species. You know that. A nymph? One of
Poseidon’s whores? Even I did not believe you had fallen so far.”
    “She is no whore.” The deep well of
anger in his gut churned and boiled. All the feelings he kept stuffed down and
contained threatened to explode. “And I am nothing to you and yours. You
have all made that clear. I have no wings. No people. You have no right to
address me as though I am still under the aerie’s rule.”
    He’d told Callie and Petra he was the
guardian of this neighborhood…and he was. But only because the members of the aerie—some
of them old friends and relatives—tolerated his presence. The Elders regarded
him with a sort of disgusted amusement.
    Even after his long centuries of
confinement, Theo still wanted to be near the others of his kind. Close to his
twin. To leave would break something inside him even the loss of his wings and
shunning hadn’t been able to touch.
    The other male moved faster than he
could track, and Theo cursed himself for failing to train harder since he’d
awoken. The speed of the attack surprised him. Booker’s long, hooked nose
collided with his, the enormity of his wing span blotting out the few stars
bright enough to break through the light pollution above the city. Four inch talons
swiped down Theo’s abdomen, gouged their way into his flesh.
    Few things could harm a grotesque—the
magic that brought stone to life protected them from fire, projectiles, even
bullets rarely did more than cause shallow wounds that healed in minutes. They
experienced pain, but it faded quickly. However, when attacked by a member of
their own race, their magic did little to protect them.
    Theo lashed out with his hind legs, fire
jetting from his mouth into Booker’s face. The flame didn’t harm him, but it
provided a distraction and allowed Theo to grasp the male’s arms with the claws
in his fore paws and throw him aside.
    The wound on Theo’s gut seeped blood,
but was shallow and ended in his muscle tissue. He ignored the pain, rolled to
his feet, and charged, knocking Booker off balance and to his knees. The tried
to stab him in the eye with the spine in his tail, but the smaller male wrapped
Theo’s tail in one fist. Instead of protecting his throat and face from Theo’s
jaws, he angled his free hand into position and speared his claws into Theo’s
back.
    A blaze of pain erupted and burned
through him when Booker’s razor sharp talons broke through the cement covering
the wound where his wing had been. He screamed and dropped to the side.
    The smaller male pressed his advantage,
released Theo’s tail, and straddled his back, plunging his claws into both
rents in his back.
    “This is what you
are. Weak. Pathetic. Ruled by emotion.”
    Theo convulsed, overcome by pain. He
tried to crawl forward, but Booker twisted his hands around the nubs still
encased in his back muscles. Theo flopped to the rooftop.
    “Get rid of the girl,
or even the tenuous hold we allow you on the aerie—this apartment, your
brother, all of it—will be gone. You’ll be at the bottom of the Hudson until
you finally turn to solid stone.”
    The weight on his back disappeared.
Moments later, the grit of new crushed stone being mixed with his blood began
to tattoo through him—Booker, closing his wounds. The threat of being dumped at
the