“Hi, Gus,” I greeted the night patrolman stationed at the double doors, his hands crossed in front of him and his feet shoulder-width apart. He was huge—as in, he stood eye level with the top of the doors. He was also incredibly broad and solid—one of the primary reasons he made a good watchman. He was an ogre and, as such, not the friendliest of the ANC employees. Not to mention how incredibly hairy he was. Ogres, in general, didn’t fare very well with most ladies.
Gus didn’t respond, which was usual, but simply nodded as I rushed past him and opened one of the doors. I could smell the weres we had in custody immediately. It wasn’t that they smelled particularly bad or offensive, but as a fairy, I have the innate ability to detect every type of creature I come across. And weres always have an earthy, soil, and dirt sort of smell about them.
Hurrying through the lobby and down the narrow hallway that led to our holding cells, I thought I should have probably checked in on our inmates, just to make sure everything was A-OK. As soon as I swiped my hand in front of the small, black security box, which was mounted to the wall beside the iron door, a buzzing sound ensued, followed by a few sparks.
“Ugh, Sam, you have to remember to check your spells from time to time!” I grumbled, shaking my head as I ran my palm in front of the box again. This time, the door slid open like it was supposed to.
“Everything okay?” Wally, one of the guards, asked as soon as he saw me. He was sitting in a chair at the end of the hallway, reading a magazine, and looking as bored as I probably did during most of last week.
“Hi, Wally, yes, everything is good,” I answered, flashing the gnome a quick smile.
I walked inside and immediately noticed all three of our prisoners were sound asleep on their cots, and the two weres were happily snoring. The pixie was in one of our smaller containment units, one which was really nothing more than a glorified birdcage suspended from the ceiling. Because pixies are usually less than eight inches tall and they have wings, birdcages serve remarkably well as jail cells.
“Just thought you’d come and visit at two in the morning?” Wally inquired in his deep and gruff voice.
“No, not exactly,” I responded with a quick smile. “Knight told me to meet him here.” I glanced back up the hall before focusing on Wally again. “Any sign of him?”
“No sign of Mr. Vander,” Wally answered as he shook his head, his enormous, flame orange beard swaying beneath him like a sea. He was probably about as tall as me, but very wide and muscular, like most gnomes. Even though he was considered short by anyone’s calculation, he was spectacularly fast. Years ago, I actually saw him take down a vampire, which is definitely saying something when it comes to speed.
“Okay, well, thanks,” I answered as I turned on my toes, heading for the door again. I checked my phone, realizing that twenty-five minutes had elapsed since Knight and I hung up. “Where are you?” I whispered softly, since my nerves were starting to get the better of me.
No sooner did that thought leave my mind when I heard a popping sound that came from directly behind me. It reminded me of the sound a soda can makes when you snap open the top and the carbon dioxide meets the air. A sort of fizzing noise.
“Hold him steady!” Knight’s voice made me whirl around, and nanoseconds later, the air gave birth to him right there in front of me. “Dulcie, get out of the way!” Knight yelled as soon as he saw me. Reaching forward, he gave me a generous push, thrusting me against the wall. If not, I would have found myself smack dab in the middle of a parade of enormous men.
“What?” I asked, in complete bafflement, my mind still reeling over seeing them just materialize from nowhere, as if the air just spat all of them out. It took me a couple of seconds to remember that the only brand of travel between the Netherworld and Earth was via portals, which did exactly that—slipped you through the air and spat you right back out again.
“What’s going on?” I demanded, once I regained my voice. My heart continued to pound through me like an SOB, and I was vaguely aware of the weres watching me, wide-eyed. I could hear one of them demanding to know what the hell was going on, not that anyone cared to enlighten him. For my part, I had no idea what was going on. Meanwhile, the pixie was alight and flying through her cage. Seconds later, she landed and started shaking the entire thing as she struggled against the bars, screaming something about her rights.
My eyes moved from Knight’s gargantuan body to the man who stood behind him. Sharing Knight’s immense height and build, the man was shackled from head to toe, with two other Neanderthal guards on either side of him. His brown hair was long enough to hide his face and obscure his features.
“Throw him in that one,” Knight commanded the guard nearest him, nodding toward the unoccupied cell, which lay at the end of the hallway. Wally just stood there, in complete amazement, as if he thought he might have been dreaming the whole thing. I didn’t really blame him.
“Wally!” Knight yelled when it seemed the gnome had entered into a trance. The much smaller man immediately came to and nervously nodded as he cleared his throat. He reached for the skeleton key on the chain, which was wrapped around his ample waist, and unlocked the cell. He held it wide as the two men who had custody of the man in chains approached the cell and walked him inside, all of them inching along slowly because the prisoner was bound so heavily.
“Cozy,” the man commented as he tilted his head back, ostensibly to get the hair out of his face. His eyes settled on me and widened slightly before a smirk appeared on his mouth. He was handsome—remarkably so. The dimples on either side of his mouth imbued him with a sort of boyish charm that was further accented by the twinkle in his laughing, brown eyes.
“Git used to it,” the guard closer to him responded as he forced the shackled man to sit down on the cot. “You’re gonna be here for ah long while.” The guard then retreated from the cell as Wally locked the prisoner inside.
“I don’t suppose one of my guards would happen to be a fairy?” the prisoner asked as he smiled more broadly at me.
I narrowed my eyes in response and threw my hands on my hips, trying to let him know I wasn’t impressed. All that did, however, was draw his attention to my bust. When his eyes met mine again, they looked a little less boyish, and a lot more wolfish.
“Ernie and Judah, you keep a good watch over him,” Knight commanded the two men who didn’t say anything, but simply nodded their compliance before taking up positions on either side of the cell. Wally shrugged and sat back down in his chair, returning to his magazine again as if he couldn’t care less that we had visitors. Gnomes were like that though—not exactly the most social race.
“Dulcie,” Knight said as he reached for my hand to lead me out of the holding cells and up the hallway. When the iron door slid closed behind us, he glanced down at me and smiled. “Are you okay?” he asked, squeezing my hand.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I answered, half wondering why he was asking me the question in the first place. Then I remembered the whole incident when he’d pushed me out of the way of his entourage. “I’m good,” I replied, and my answer reflected the complete truth. Just looking up at this gorgeous man now made me very aware that I was much more than good. Inside, I was beaming.
Physically, Knight is all man, and a very stunning man at that. He’s pretty tall—maybe six feet, four inches or so, if I had to guess, but he isn’t lanky. His entire body seems to have been sculpted from thick, ropey muscles. His physique is a trait of his race. He’s a Loki, a creature that was forged from the fires of Hades and created in Hades’s own image, specifically to protect the Netherworld. Lokis are the Netherworld’s version of natural-born soldiers.
“I didn’t mean to push you so hard,” he apologized as he led the way down the hall, toward his office. When we reached it, he opened the door for me and I walked inside. “I was just afraid you’d get trampled.”
“That’s okay,” I answered as I watched him close the door behind him.
He turned on th
e overhead lights and I held my breath when I saw him bathed in their soft luminescence. He was just as beautiful as I remembered. His black hair was radiant, shining almost blue. It soon became fairly obvious that he was so busy setting up the new Netherworld order that he’d had no time to get a haircut. Long tendrils curled around his ears and reached the base of his neck; and his cheeks and jaw were shadowed with unshaved stubble. The bright lights heightened the angular planes of his face, throwing shadows beneath his cheeks and emphasizing the square lines of his jaw. Best of all were his azure eyes that sparkled from behind his long, black lashes and heavy eyebrows.
“I’m sorry,” he semi-whispered. I could only wonder what he was referencing—what he was sorry about. I had no answer though. Like a deer caught in headlights, I was physically unable to pull my attention away from his flawless male beauty. And apparently, I wasn’t the only one at a loss for words. Knight stared at me just as intently as I did him. Neither of us spoke or moved. I wasn’t even sure I was breathing.
“It’s been a long time,” he finally said in a deep, throaty voice, interrupting the stillness of the air. “To see you now, I feel like I have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming,” he finished, his eyes never leaving mine.
“It’s been too long,” I answered, finally feeling able to. The last two months seemed more like two years. Of course, Knight and I talked nearly every day and sent each other photos and the occasional naughty video, but all of those things were trivial consolations when compared to seeing him again in the flesh.
“You are beautiful,” he said as his gaze washed over my face, following the tresses of my gold hair down to my breasts. His eyes lingered there for a few seconds before shifting to my waist and legs, and, eventually, returning to my face again. I felt myself shuddering beneath his scrutinizing gaze, a gaze visibly laced with lust. When his eyes found mine again, I felt like he was looking right through me, examining my very essence.
“If you’d given me some advance notice, I would have dressed a little better,” I said with a hesitant laugh as I spied my T-shirt, jeans and tennis shoes with disappointment.
“I wouldn’t have you any other way,” Knight responded, his eyes glued to mine. “I love you just how you are—natural.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, suddenly feeling nervous beneath his attentive gaze.
“It’s your eyes,” he replied, studying me as if admiring a famous painting. “It’s those damn, emerald eyes of yours that have haunted me for the last couple of months.” He shut his own exquisite, sapphire ones as a smirk appeared on his plump lips. “I’ve practiced incessantly, bringing them to mind every day that we weren’t together,” he started, and his smile melted my insides.
“What do you mean?” I asked with an anxious little laugh.
“Every time I closed my eyes, I would see yours. I would remember them when you were laughing, or when you were angry, or scared.” He opened his eyes again and studied me for a few long seconds. “I promised myself I wouldn’t allow the time we spent apart to distort a single memory of you. And it hasn’t.” He paused for a few seconds as if he were recalling something.
“I did the same,” I admitted with a quick nod. “Every night, although I cheated a little.”
“How’s that?” he asked with a chuckle.
I shrugged. “Well, I didn’t rely on my memory. Instead, I looked at that picture of you that I took a few months ago when you were in my bed and you’d just woken up.”
In the picture, Knight was naked but my white duvet covered his lower half. His upper body, though, was bare and visible for any onlooker to appreciate. And he was impossible not to appreciate, with his tan skin that contrasted so deliciously against the crisp white of my bed linens. He was leaning on his elbow, which, in turn, caused his bicep to bulge out like it was trying to imitate the Hulk. But my favorite feature of the photograph was Knight’s smile, which never failed to cause my heart to skip a beat.
“The one where my hair looks like I survived a windstorm?”
“Yep, that would be the one,” I answered with a wide grin. “It’s my favorite picture of you, and I keep it framed above my bed. That way I get to see you before I go to sleep and as soon as I wake up.”
He nodded, but it seemed like his thoughts were elsewhere. “Would you like to know which picture of yours is sitting on my bedside table in the hotel?”
“Of course.”
His smile broadened. “The one I took of you at Rascal’s Curve, when we raced our bikes to the top.”
“And I beat you?” I asked, remembering the sunny day as if it were yesterday. We’d taken our motorcycles for a ride and found ourselves at the top of Rascal’s Curve, which was an especially twisting and curving canyon.
“I think you beating me is open for interpretation,” he said with a quick laugh.
“You can choose to remember it however you want to, but I know the truth.”
He didn’t respond right away but just looked at me, wearing that smile of his that I found so irresistible. “When we got to the top, you took your helmet off and the wind picked your hair up and blew it over your shoulders just at the exact moment that I snapped a picture of you. In it, you’re laughing and your eyes are the greenest I’ve ever seen them.” He paused for a moment or two, and when he spoke again, his voice was a little bit deeper. “Do you know that I can detect your moods just by looking at your eyes?”
I shook my head.
He chuckled as he crossed his large arms over his equally ample chest. “When you’re angry, flecks of gold appear in them. When you’re sad, they take on a sage sort of green; and then there are those other times, when they become a deep, dark, hunter green.”
“And what am I then?” I asked with a smile, taking a few steps toward him as I decided to play his game.
He cocked his head to the side. “It’s difficult to say.”
“Didn’t you just claim that you can read my moods?” I asked with a playful shrug. “Doesn’t sound like you’re very good at it.”
I couldn’t help gulping as I focused on his face and saw his eyes were suddenly glowing. It was the surefire sign that his body had selected mine as his mate—that it had made the decision that I was strong enough to bear his seed.
“When your eyes become their darkest, it means you’re turned on,” he explained.
“What color are they now?” I asked, my voice barely audible.
Knight smiled wider. “The darkest green I’ve ever seen them.”
TWO
I couldn’t argue. I was definitely turned on—more turned on than I’d been for a very long time. Two months long, to be exact.
As I watched Knight push up from where he’d been sitting on top of his desk, it felt like millions of insects were busily humming in my stomach, I was so nervous. He started for the door and reached it in a few strides, then locked it. Turning to face me, he smiled languidly and began closing the blinds on all three windows.
“So we’re going to do this in your office, huh?” I asked, my voice sounding a little bit shaky since my nerves were going full steam ahead. Even though Knight and I had been together for a while, he never failed to give me butterflies.
“It’s been two months,” he answered over his shoulder with a shrug. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not waiting any longer.”
“What if I refuse? I mean, this is our workplace,” I persisted, pretending to care. The truth was I was just stalling because I enjoyed playing games of cat and mouse with Knight. “What would HR say?”
We had no HR department, so they wouldn’t have much to say.
Knight finished closing the third set of blinds and faced me, without saying anything. His smile suggested he knew something I didn’t. It was an expression of his that I was very much accustomed to; but, as always, it made my breath catch.
“Last I checked, I was your boss,” he replied in a businesslike tone that brooked no arguments. “And that means you have to do whateve
r I tell you to do.”
“Oh? Is that so?” I asked with an undisguised smile, crossing my arms over my chest to show my disapproval.
“Yes, that’s so.”
I shook my head as goose bumps started rising all over my body. Knight just had that effect on me. “Last I checked, you were on hiatus for two months, leaving all of the operations for this office in my lap, and as such, this office has been my sole responsibility; so I’d say that means I’m the boss of myself.” I took a deep breath and audibly exhaled it for added effect. “And, in case you didn’t notice, I even took ownership of your office.”
“I did notice,” Knight answered with a frown. He picked up a pink-haired troll doll from my collection of twelve with which I’d adorned the top of his desk. He briefly examined the miniature with obvious distaste before replacing it beside its blue-haired brother. Then he turned around with a very determined scowl.
“Trolls, Dulce? Really?”
“Toys R Us was fresh out of Lokis, sorry,” I answered with a shrug.
“Well, now that I’ve resumed my role as head of this office, and my role as your boss, I order you to remove all these obnoxious creatures at once,” he announced boldly.
I frowned and shook my head as I offered him an expression of consolation. “I hate to break the news to you, buddy, but seeing as how I’ve been managing myself as well as this office for the last couple of months, you’re going to have to convince me that you’re my boss.”
“Is that so?”
I nodded. “And, just so you know, convincing me isn’t going to be easy,” I finished with an apologetic shrug.
“Going on hiatus doesn’t mean I stopped being your boss,” he pointed out.
He wore a lofty expression as he leaned his exquisite ass against the edge of the desk while regarding me with visible amusement. Even though I wanted nothing more than to attack him right there, I swallowed my enthusiasm and forced myself to pay attention to our little game of playful seduction.
“Hmm,” I started, drumming my fingers against my lips. “A salient point,” I continued in my best lawyer-ese. “But even if I played the role of devil’s advocate and agreed with you, I would have to warn you that you still have a small problem on your hands.”
A Midsummer Night's Scream (The Dulcie O'Neil Series Book 7) Page 2