A Midsummer Night's Scream (The Dulcie O'Neil Series Book 7)
Page 16
“If I could drive a stake through your heart, I would do it in a second. No questions asked,” I seethed at him. My jaw was clenched and my chest was rising and falling in time with my hurried breathing.
Bram was very tall—probably six-five or so, and broad in the shoulders. He had an overbearing confidence that ensured every person sharing his physical space had to notice him, and it didn’t matter if the observer were a man or a woman. Seeing the perennial black stubble on his chin, cheeks and jaw, he again reminded me of a pirate. Well, pirate or not, no red-blooded woman, or man, could deny that Bram was handsome. Pitch-black hair and light blue eyes, along with a well-defined, narrow nose and masculine jawline endowed him with an attractiveness that any model or actor would envy.
Good looking and charismatic or not, Bram was currently taking up the number one space on my shit list.
“What the hell kinda game are you playing, Bram?” I snarled.
A mix of feelings swarmed through me as I beheld him—incredible anger since I blamed Bram for this whole mess and, yet, there was also relief to find him still alive. Well, not alive as much as still in existence. I hadn’t seen or heard from Bram in several months, not since he’d helped orchestrate the expulsion of my father from office. Naturally, I’d wondered what became of him and hoped he was okay.
Also included with the anger and relief was a sense of gratitude because I never could have dethroned my father if it hadn’t been for Bram … Despite all those feelings swirling inside me, it was my anger that refused to be ignored. Anger because, as far as I knew, it was Bram who was the main threat to establishing the new regime in the Netherworld. But, more importantly, Bram was the reason why my friends in Splendor could still be in danger.
“What happened at Headquarters, Bram?” I demanded, still trembling with repressed rage.
“I must admit how I have missed your … candor, dear Sweet,” Bram said. He was staring at me like he’d never seen a woman before.
“What happened at …” I started again.
“I’m surprised you know each other,” Jax interrupted. I temporarily forgot that he was still standing there. Crossing his arms over his chest, he regarded us with unmasked interest.
“Of course,” Bram replied. His big smile seemed to suggest everything between us was kosher and A-okay. “Sweet and I go way back, don’t we, dear?”
“Stop calling me that!” I yelled at him and had to forcibly hold myself back from unleashing my fist against his face again. “Sweet” was Bram’s pet name for me and even though I’d never found it particularly charming, now it irked me even more than it ever had before. And that’s saying something, because I’d never been fond of the appellation to begin with. “I will repeat my question since you apparently failed to understand it,” I snapped, glaring at him. “What happened at Splendor Headquarters?”
“She has a bit of a temper sometimes,” Jax explained in an apologetic tone to Bram. Bram didn’t reply at first, but kept smiling at me vacantly, and his eyes appeared almost glazed.
“Yes, that she does,” Bram replied finally. The smug grin on his plump lips suddenly revealed his fangs.
“The only reason for my short temper is because you’re a lying pile of undead shit!” I railed at him and had to consciously restrain my fists at my sides because I was seconds away from releasing them on his face and chest. It was silly, really, since Bram was a vampire. That meant he possessed unfathomable speed, and could easily dodge or avoid any of my blows in less than a split second. The only reason I’d been able to strike him at all was because he’d allowed me to.
“Sweet, please try not to get so upset,” Bram purred, holding his hands up as a gesture to placate me before he approached me. “You must recall how difficult it can be for me to restrain myself when I detect a rise in your blood pressure?”
“Don’t you dare come any closer!” I barked at him. “I’m having a hard enough time suppressing the urge to finish you as it is.” Lucky for him that there didn’t appear to be any stakes lying around …
“My dear, let us not lose ourselves in histrionics,” Bram admonished with a slight chuckle. Apparently thinking better of approaching me, he chose to walk toward the house. After taking a few steps forward, he paused and glanced back at me. He proffered his arm, suggesting I take it, or follow him, but I did neither. I wanted some questions answered instead.
“You’re Jax’s boss?” I asked as I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to regulate my breathing. First things first, I had to make damn sure I had all my facts straight.
“Yes, Sweet,” Bram answered, almost in a bored tone. “I thought that much was already quite clear.”
“And Jax’s orders to remove me from Headquarters came from you?” I inquired, adopting my Regulator interrogation hat.
“Yes, Sweet.”
“Were you also responsible for the worm hole?”
“Yes, Sweet.”
“We’ve already been through this, Dulcie,” Jax said, sounding slightly irritated, probably because I was second-guessing him.
“I want to hear all of this directly from the horse’s mouth,” I snapped before returning my attention to the horse. “Have you taken over Headquarters yet, Bram?” I continued, hearing the ache and worry in my voice.
“I believe that is the first time I have ever been referred to as an equine,” he replied. The expression on his face showed more surprise than humor. “A snake, once, and a fox, although that was a century or so ago. A rat too … Perhaps I have been called a rat more than once,” he continued as if I’d asked him to elaborate. “But, never a pack animal. I daresay, I find the comparison somewhat insulting.”
“Have you attacked Headquarters yet, Bram?” I repeated, ignoring his last comment because it was completely off topic and useless. Bram didn’t answer me as he faced the megahouse again and started toward it. “Is everyone at Headquarters okay, Bram?” I called out after him. I raised my voice because he was nearly out of earshot, then I remembered how well the sense of hearing is developed in vampires.
He stopped walking and turned around to face me. “My dear, I refuse to engage in a shouting match to discuss any particulars,” he said, shaking his head as if I should have known better. “If you care to conduct a civilized conversation over a refreshing libation in my drawing room, then I shall be most happy to accommodate you.”
Of course, I wanted nothing more than to sit down with Bram and pry all the answers to my questions out of him. I knew one thing about Bram, however, and that was that he operated on a quid pro quo basis. In order to get what I wanted, I had to give him what he wanted. For now, I’d have to swallow my pride and stifle the impulse to stake him right there.
I didn’t reply, but inhaled deeply before making the decision to allow him this small victory. I furthered my surrender by dropping my arms and approaching him. Jax stood right beside Bram and offered me a small smile of reassurance. Not that I needed any. Bram and I had known one another for years, and although Bram regularly straddled the line between obeying and breaking the law, we’d always enjoyed a tit-for-tat kind of relationship. In exchange for pertinent information and good leads, I usually agreed to ignore whatever outlawed antics Bram was currently engaging in. Of course, I couldn’t say the same in this situation. This time, Bram had definitely gone too far.
“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do,” I grumbled before joining him. He didn’t say anything as he raised his brow and smirked. Then he led the way to the enormous house with Jax and me right behind him.
Upon reaching the double mahogany doors, Bram opened one and held it for us. Jax allowed me to enter first, and when I did, I couldn’t help it as I practically gaped with awe when I beheld the plush surroundings of Bram’s stately home. Smelling of fine Italian leather and hardwood, I noticed the entire interior featured rare species of dark woods in the extensive floors and paneling. All of the furniture was upholstered in black leather.
“Nice to see how well C
rossbones pays you,” I grumbled. Turning around, I faced the incorrigible vampire, waiting until he closed the door and returned to give us our tour.
“By now, dear Sweet, I would have thought you knew me well enough to know that I appreciate only the finest things in life,” Bram answered without waiting for me to reply. “Please, follow me,” he finished before heading down a corridor on his right side.
Having little or no other options, I obeyed him, fully aware that Jax dutifully trailed behind me. Not that I was worried to be sandwiched between the two of them. Maybe I should have been, but knowing Bram as well as I did, I figured I was safe. I only hoped it wasn’t the wrong assumption to make.
At the last room down the hallway, Bram paused before opening the dark mahogany door. Like the two front doors, this one also was Shaker style. The drawing room, as he’d modestly termed it earlier, was far beyond impressive. The dark wood theme continued in this room but it wasn’t the central feature. No, that was reserved for an enormous fireplace that occupied most of the far wall. The imposing mantel was constructed of rich wood that matched the front doors except it was intricately carved and spanned from the floor to the ceiling.
I felt my heart drop down to my feet as soon as I looked at the painting that hung above the fireplace. I was soon completely overwhelmed with a sense of déjà-vu because I recognized it. The déjà-vu immediately gave way to disgust.
“Oh, no,” I grumbled before moving a few steps closer, and shaking my head all the while. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
It was my portrait. I’d previously had the misfortune of viewing it a few months earlier, when Bram proudly showed it to me at one of his many homes, this one in the French Alps. After revealing the repugnant thing, he’d proceeded to drug me with his vampiric powers of persuasion and I’d nearly had sex with him. Luckily I was a fighter, and managed to break his control over me. Of course, Bram refused to accept any responsibility for the incident. He claimed he was merely testing my powers to be sure I was ready for our mission to banish my father and his militia from the Netherworld.
“Ah, yes, ‘Fairy Law,’” Bram said, quoting the portrait’s title. He gazed on it with the same adoration he’d had when he’d first shared the revolting thing with me.
“What’s it doing here?” I asked. I was barely able to stomach looking at it because it was so off-putting.
“I consider it my most prized possession,” Bram replied, his eyes firmly fastened on the representation of me in oils. “I found it very hard to part with, so I commissioned duplicates to be painted. They are exactly like the original and now proudly ennoble each of my homes.”
“Un-freaking-believable,” I grumbled as I looked up at the offending thing, feeling a sour taste in my mouth.
It was a full-scale rendition of me, and I was dressed in a very sheer, yellow negligee that left little to the imagination. The garment was so short, nearly all the flesh on my thighs was visible. The painting represented me with a sly smile as I pulled up the hem of the ridiculously short nightie. It nearly displayed the v of my thighs, making it appear like I was inviting the artist, or the viewer, to get very personal. And if the pose itself wasn’t lewd enough, the perky, pebbled nipples that protruded through the flimsy fabric provided even more smut.
As for the title, Fairy Law, it had nothing to do with the painting. I looked more like a floozy from the Renaissance Fair who’d been dropped onto the set of The Sound Of Music, owing to the background that included a meadow and all sorts of woodland creatures.
“It’s you,” Jax exclaimed with way too much interest as he looked from the painting down to me, and then back up at the painting again. I couldn’t restrain the blush that instantly heated my face and neck. This was just so damn embarrassing …
“It’s not me! I had nothing to do with it,” I insisted. Not for one second would I allow him to think that I’d actually posed for the hideous portrayal.
“It’s very beautiful,” Jax added as he glanced back at me and smiled even more broadly. “Though it’s missing her…attitude.”
“Yes,” Bram said with a deep sigh. “That is the one characteristic that is most certainly lacking.”
“That could be considered a good thing,” Jax continued.
“Ha-ha,” I grumbled at him in response.
“No,” Bram announced as he shook his head. “I wish the painting possessed Sweet’s fire.”
I didn’t reply when I noticed both he and Bram couldn’t seem to pry their eyes away from my pornographic likeness.
“Okay, haven’t you two stared enough at her boobs for today? I don’t have time for this shit. I have questions that are begging for answers,” I interjected, addressing both of their backs.
“Are those truly her breasts?” Jax asked Bram.
“No!” I railed in defiance. “Of course they aren’t! Look at them! They’re like a size F!”
“Sadly, no,” Bram answered with another heartfelt sigh. “I knew Sweet well enough to suppose that she would never pose to have her portrait painted. Her likeness was created from photographs and my own impeccable memory.”
I didn’t want to visit the fact that Bram had photos of me or how he’d gotten them or when or why. Not when there were still too many pertinent questions weighing on me. I turned around and scanned the rest of the room, not wanting to waste another second looking at the horrible painting.
The furniture in the room was covered in a rich brocade of velvet, which matched the same shade of red in several of the Oriental rugs. And if the fireplace (minus the dreadful painting) wasn’t the most arresting feature in the room, the ceiling certainly was. Painted a light vanilla shade, it included a bas-relief in a scrolling pattern that was repeated all across the entire ceiling. The room was definitely a study in overindulgence and extreme wealth.
Exactly like Bram, himself.
In trying so hard to concentrate on anything but the painting, it took me a few seconds before I realized music was playing in the room. I didn’t recognize the tune, but it was soft, yet it also had a quick beat. It almost sounded like a mix between dance and electronica but with a much more chill vibe.
“Hey!” I yelled at both of their backs. “Enough with the painting!”
Bram was the first one who turned around and faced me with an apologetic smile. “It is far too easy to lose oneself in your inexplicable expression, captured here on the portrait, my dear,” he explained. Then, eyeing the empty couch in front of me, he inclined his head toward it, and said, “Please, take a seat.”
Bram sat down on a richly upholstered chair beside the fireplace, and I noticed there weren’t any logs on the iron grate. “No fire tonight, Bram?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer to the question. A burning fire would make no difference to Bram. As a vampire, he was forever perpetually cold. Environmental conditions made no difference to him.
Sitting down on the couch across from Bram, I faced Jax, growing curious as to whether he would stay or go.
“Jax, thank you for accomplishing a well-performed task. I am very pleased to see you obeyed my orders meticulously and delivered her completely intact.” Bram emitted a deep chuckle and winked at me.
“Of course,” Jax answered. Taking one last glance at the painting, he gave Bram a quick nod before his eyes fell on me. “And you, Sweet, better behave yourself,” he added with a flirtatious smile.
“On the contrary! One of the reasons our little spitfire enthralls me so is because she never behaves herself,” Bram retorted while eyeing me with fond praise.
“Enough! I have no more patience for any of this shit,” I interrupted. “Jax, if you have somewhere to go, then get going!” I snapped.
“Your patience is highly commendable,” he said to Bram before frowning at me. Shaking his head, he started for the door, and his deep laugh trailed him all the way down the hallway. Once he was out of earshot, I faced Bram again. I had so many questions for him, it felt like my head was spinning. I didn’t
even know where to begin.
“Sweet,” he said while staring at me pointedly, “shall I offer you something to drink?”
“No,” I nearly snarled. “This isn’t any social visit. In case you’re suffering from temporary amnesia, you ordered Jax to kidnap me!”
“Ah, yes, well, let us discuss that subject in due time,” Bram replied, and I immediately shook my head.
“No! We will discuss it right now. Why did you order me to be removed from Headquarters?” My eyes widened with unrepressed anger when something suddenly dawned on me. “And if you think for one second that I would willingly allow you to hold me hostage, just so you can use me as ransom for the ANC, you’ve got your head crammed way too far up your own ass!”
Bram immediately started to laugh even as he shook his head. “Sweet, Sweet,” he crooned. “I would never think of doing something so nefarious and underhanded as all that.”
“Really? I doubt that very much!” I roared hastily before remembering to control my temper and calm the eff down. As a rule, Bram always seemed more willing to work with me when I was in a calm state of mind. If I were riled up, he generally tried to push my reactionary buttons just to make me more so. And that meant we’d end up getting nowhere.
“Shall we leave the subject of why I ordered you to be removed from Headquarters alone for the moment? I daresay it is a long and convoluted answer,” Bram replied. “I am certain there are other, more pressing questions you wish to ask me?”
“Yes,” I replied, jumping on his open offer immediately. I figured we’d eventually circle back around again to the reasons why he’d involved Jax in the first place. But, for now, the most important subject occupying my mind was the question about what was or wasn’t going on in Splendor. “What’s happening at Headquarters?”
He studied me for a few seconds with a mysterious smile. “I apologize for failing to grasp the essence of your question, Sweet. Please find another way to restate it.”