by V. A. Dold
“Yes. Of course.” She dug in the outer pocket of her purse for the key. The instant the indicator light turned green, Mr. Hotness opened the door and waved her inside.
Carolyn sat her purse on the bed and dug around for her pocket book. Pulling out a ten-dollar bill, she held it out to him. “Thank you, Mr. Drummond.”
He cocked his head, and his grin widened. There was a definite twinkle in his eyes. “What’s that for?”
Carolyn’s brows pulled together as she continued to offer the money to him. “A tip. It’s customary after all to pay the person who delivers your luggage.”
He took a step and entered her personal space. Then trailed a finger along her hairline before tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “That’s not the kind of tip I want. To be honest, I had two ulterior motives for toting your luggage to your room.”
She blinked up at him unable to pull away. No, that wasn’t true. She didn’t want to pull away. “You did?”
“Never doubt it. First of all, I wanted to spend a few minutes with you.”
“And second?” she asked breathily.
“To ask you out. Would you honor me by joining me for dinner, leannan?”
She scowled. “Leannan? I think you’re confusing me with another woman. My name is Carolyn.”
“Oh, bonnie lass, I assure you, I know exactly who you are. Leannan is a Scottish word for lover, sweetheart, or beloved. It’s an endearment.”
Heat flared up Carolyn’s neck to her cheeks. “Oh. Um, okay.” Then she frowned again. “Do you call everyone sweetheart?”
“No,” he whispered and leaned closer. “I reserve endearments for the women in my family and you.” Then he cupped the back of Carolyn’s head and lightly kissed her cheek. Stepping back abruptly, he eyed her with apprehension.
Both froze, staring at one another. Power had surged the moment his lips touched her bare flesh. Much more than he’d expected from a solitary witch without a coven from which to draw power. Even more surprising was Darius wanted Carolyn in a way he hadn’t wanted a woman since he’d been a happily married human. It was dizzying to think that had been three centuries ago.
She drew a breath, an unsteady, stuttering inhale. “What was that?”
He swallowed hard, unsure how to answer.
“Something happened when you kissed me. I felt it. What was that?” she demanded, her tone bordering on panic.
He averted his eyes. “You’re right. Something happened.” He braced himself and raised his eyes to look straight into hers. “There’s something special about you, Carolyn. No scratch that. There’s something special about the two of us together. Let me ask you a question. Do you know what I am?”
Carolyn lifted her brows and tilted her head to one side. She studied him for a long moment. “Vampire. You’re a vampire.”
“Aye, I am. When a vampire, especially one as old as I, finds his soulmate, upon touching his destined mate skin-to-skin he experiences a power surge. Call it a sample of the power he will wield once he claims her. Since you’re a witch, you experienced the same phenomena.”
“That's got to be the most ridiculous… Soulmates? Claiming?” She threw her hands up and gave up trying to speak. Carolyn paced the room, mumbling to herself. Finally, she spun on her heel and stared at him. She was wide eyed, her heated and yet questioning gaze taking him in as if she were seeing him for the first time. There was desire in his Muierimei’s eyes as they skimmed him head to toe.
He stepped into her personal space again. “Keep looking at me like that, and we won’t leave this room for at least two days, maybe more.” And with that, he claimed his woman’s lips for a proper kiss. Groaning, he forced himself to put a few inches between them before he stripped Carolyn and threw her on the bed. Clearing his throat, he asked in a husky voice. “So, are you free for dinner?”
What? Carolyn’s brain had seized when he’d kissed her, and it had yet to re-engage. Then his question replayed in her mind. “Oh, no. I mean yeah. I don’t have plans.”
“Great. I’ll be back at seven. If that works for you?”
“Sure. Seven is perfect.”
He ran his hand down her arm to squeeze her hand and then walked to the door. As he reached for the knob, he turned. “How do you feel about a casual T-shirt and jeans night, so we’re comfortable? We can talk about what just happened over dinner.”
Carolyn sighed in relief. “That would be great. I didn’t bring anything fancy to wear.”
“Then casual it is. Oh, and my name is Darius. Only my employees call me Mr. Drummond.”
Carolyn smiled at the wink he gave her as he left the room. The moment the door closed she paced across the floor to stare into the mirror over the dresser. She’d experienced more than just a surge of power when he kissed her. She’d seen the future. HER future! A vision of her and Darius with a son and daughter in a park had played out like a movie on the big screen. Maggie was right, she had met her destiny in Savannah, and he was a vampire. She leaned forward to stare hard into her eyes, try as she might she couldn’t force a vision of the danger she felt looming. But how bad could it be if years from now she was alive?
She cupped her cheek where he’d kissed her and twirled happily before flopping on the bed. She hadn’t felt this giddy since the most popular boy in the class asked her to prom. She was a smitten kitten all the way. Her hand caressed the bedspread as hot images of their naked bodies entwined filled her imagination. She could almost hear his sexy brogue whispering naughty encouragements into her ear.
*****
Darius closed his eyes as he waited for the elevator to arrive. Carolyn’s sweet patchouli scent had driven him to distraction. He hardened as he pictured her beautiful face, long blonde hair, and delicious curves. It had taken every ounce of control he possessed to refrain from taking more than one kiss. And dang if she didn’t taste as good as she smelled.
He had pretended not to know who she was as he did with all witches he protected. Solitary practitioners tended to be skittish, untrusting creatures. But she was the one witch that had intrigued him when he’d created files on each of the women in danger. Now he knew why. He’d unknowingly been researching his soulmate. He cursed silently in his mind. If she knew he had poked around in her background, that he had access to her email account, photo’s, tax returns, the whole nine yards, she wouldn’t have given him the time of day.
His heart sank. An honorable man didn’t lie to the woman he loved. He would have to confess to that intrusion into her private life. He prayed she would forgive him for it and understand that his intentions were purely protective.
Darius raked his fingers through his hair. He had plans to make and answers to formulate. Carolyn was sure to come armed with a ton of questions. Tonight had to be perfect. In the blink of an eye, his goal had abruptly changed from observe and protect to woo and claim. Protection, he could do blindfolded. Courting? He hadn’t done that in hundreds of years.
Meeting Carolyn brought back long-buried memories. He’d been born the son of a blacksmith in a small Romanian village during the seventeenth century. When he was eighteen, his family traveled to the next village to watch a gypsy troupe perform. There he’d met his beloved Kyra.
Within a month they’d married. He’d been unbelievably happy. He and Kyra tried for years to have a child only to have the infant, and her life snatched away. His beloved died in childbirth begging him to carry on and find happiness again.
He’d tried to fulfill her dying wish but how could he when his heart died with her? His happiness had lasted a meager ten years. After that tragic day, he’d been a shell of a man walking through life, merely existing.
Then one night as he walked home from the market he was attacked by roadside bandits and lay dying. Out of the darkness came a man like none he’d ever seen. The man offered him a new lease on life and a reason to live. Protecting witches and magic was a noble cause, and he’d taken it up wholeheartedly. Especially, when Etienne offered to relocate him
to Scotland.
Leaving Romania and his painful memories behind was exactly what he had needed. Prior to moving to America, he had lived all but thirty years in his adopted homeland of kilts. Yes, his genetics were Roma, but he considered himself a Scotsman.
Setting his memories aside, he squared his shoulders and strode to Etienne’s suite. He had to tell his best friend and king that things had changed dramatically. The soul of his long lost Kyra had been reborn into one of the witches they were here to protect. There was no way he would lose her again.
He rapped once on the door and waited.
Etienne opened it and raised a brow. “Darius, I didn’t expect you until later.”
Darius let out a long breath as he followed Etienne into the living room of his suite. “I didn’t expect to be here either. Something happened that I need to talk to you about.”
“I see.” Etienne walked to the wet bar and poured himself a whiskey and water. “Would you like a drink for this discussion?”
“No, thank you. I better keep a clear head.”
Etienne took the chair facing him and silently waited.
“I never dreamt I would be one of the lucky few to find their soulmate a second time, but it looks like I have.” His emotions thickened his Scottish accent. “Carolyn Soucek is my Kyra. I felt her soul the moment we touched.”
Etienne nodded. “I had a feeling it would be something like that when Krystal Le Beau called and told me I needed to get you to Savannah. So, what would you like to do about it?”
Darius raked his fingers through his hair. “I need time to court her, and I can’t do that if I’m protecting six other women. Do you think you can call in a few extra men to cover the others?”
“I made the call an hour ago. I asked Rafe and Sean to assist with the protection detail, and Nick and Derick will be here in a few hours.”
“Thank you.”
“You are very welcome. So, tell me, what’s your plan? How will you win your lady’s heart?”
“After the power surge we both experienced when I kissed her, I explained a little of what happened. We’re having dinner tonight, and I expect Carolyn to ask a lot of questions then. I felt her interest in me as a man, so it won’t be difficult to build on that, but there’s one problem.”
Etienne swallowed his whiskey and sat his tumbler aside. “What would that be?”
Darius stood and paced the room. “She won’t be happy with me when I tell her I did a background check and have a file on her.”
Etienne nodded. “That may be true. But give her credit. She is a smart, practical woman. Once you explain why you needed the information, she will understand. Maybe not right away, but given time to cool off and think through your reasons, she will forgive you.”
“I hope so. I won’t hide it from her. To not tell Carolyn would be a lie of omission and I won’t start a relationship with lies.”
“That is a wise choice. The truth will always come out. It is better she hears it from you. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No. I have to do this on my own. If I need help protecting my Muierimei from the Guild, I’ll let you know. She has an incredible amount of power and if they know that, they’ll come after her with everything they have.”
“Then we need to make sure they do not succeed. I will be available to you at a moment’s notice.”
“Thank you, Etienne. I better go. I have a lot to do before I collect her at seven.”
Etienne smiled and poured himself another drink. “Good luck, my friend. I expect to be your best man if you choose to have a wedding.”
Darius grinned as he opened the door to leave. “You can count on it.”
CHAPTER THREE
Always prompt, at the same instant his watch read seven PM, Darius knocked on Carolyn’s door.
Leaning against the doorframe, he grinned when she opened it. “You look great, leannan. Are you ready to go?”
“I sure am. I’m starving.”
Carolyn’s soft, intelligent eyes captivated him. He blinked to chase away the image of her naked body wrapped around his, those beautiful eyes filled with desire. He shook the inappropriate thoughts from his mind and gave her a sheepish smile praying he didn’t wear his lust on his face like a neon sign.
“Ladies first.” He motioned her out of the room and placed his palm on the small of her back as they made their way to the elevator. A couple of deep breaths were vital to calm his libido. Big mistake. All the deep breaths did was fill his nose with Carolyn’s patchouli scent and harden him more than he had already been. It didn’t help that his Muierimei's tight jeans hugged her hips perfectly, and her T-shirt fit her like a glove. A glove he wanted to slip his hands into.
When they stepped out of the hotel, she glanced up at him. “Where are we having dinner?”
“Vic’s on the River. It’s a fantastic restaurant, and only a couple of blocks away so we can walk.”
“Do they have seating with a river view?”
He chuckled when her eyes lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning. “Aye. As a matter of fact, I reserved a table next to a window so we can enjoy the water.”
Once they were seated and had placed their order, Carolyn leaned forward and whispered, “So, you know about witches?”
He leaned forward as well and chuckled. “You have no idea. I’ve been around for hundreds of years, and I’ve been protecting witches for the majority of my existence. All magical beings have a symbiotic relationship. We need witches to survive and practice their magic. Without them, the balance of magic is disrupted. I would hate to see what would happen if we lost even one magical species. It could be catastrophic.”
“Your job is protecting witches? From what?”
“Witch hunters.”
Carolyn looked stunned. “That’s still a thing?”
“Oh, yeah. What do you know about the history of witch trials?”
“I’ve heard of Salem. I think everyone has. I don’t really practice witchcraft, so I haven’t researched the history or anything. Mostly, I just read the future for my friends and clients.”
“I’ll give you the short version then. The attack on witchcraft began in Europe around the fifteenth century. The Guild took it upon themselves to create a secret society that would hunt and kill supernatural beings. Mostly they target witches.
“At first, the church governed those accused of witchcraft, and if the witch didn’t renounce their beliefs, they were burned at the stake. In 1604 King James made witchcraft a felony, which put the accused under the jurisdiction of the courts of common law. After that, trials and torture of people alleged to be witches became widespread. Some officials would strip a suspect and search for moles, which they stupidly believed, were a sign of a witch. Others employed swimming or pricking to verify a witch’s guilt. There were too many torture and execution techniques to name them all.
“The sixteenth century brought mass executions throughout Europe. From fifteen hundred to sixteen sixty, an estimated fifty to eighty thousand suspected witches died. We believe that number to be closer to one hundred thousand.
“Then in sixteen forty-seven, the Guild expanded their fanatical quest to the new world. Once here, they chose hanging as their preferred way of doing away with the accused. It’s much easier to hang a woman in the dead of night than burn them on a pyre. Plus, hanging is less likely to be noticed. A fire that large tends to be seen by the local population.
“The Connecticut witch trials were first. Later the famous Salem witch trials that you mentioned took place where over one hundred fifty people were accused of witchcraft.
“By sixteen eighty witch hunting had fallen out of favor with the general public and the Guild of witch hunters went underground to continue their work in Europe.”
Her eyes had grown wider with each fact he laid out for her. “Holy mackerel! I had no idea.”
“After the Salem debacle, witch hunting was less favorably received, and the Guild went underground a
gain. The Guild is still alive and well, Carolyn, and they have you in their sights.”
“What!” She stared at him, her eyes big as saucers. “Why would they be after me?”
“You must have talked to someone or posted something online that caught their attention.” Darius took her hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you. There are several of us in town to protect a handful of witches the Guild is after. As soon as they expose themselves, we’ll take care of them.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Take care of them?” she asked after a pause.
His thumb brushed over her knuckles. “Let’s just say they’ll meet their maker sooner than they expected.”
“Murder?” She shook her head. “I don’t know if I can condone that.”
“Would you rather it were you who were murdered? That’s what it comes down to. You or them,” he explained in a gentle voice.
“I sure don’t want it to be me, but can’t we call the police?”
“And say what? Help me, Officer. Witch hunters are after me? The police won’t get involved until someone is attacked and by then it is too late. The woman will be dead and the hunters scattered to the wind.”
Carolyn glanced away. “There has to be another way.”
“There isn’t. Believe me, we’ve tried everything. I’ve lost too many witches trying to go through legal channels. Putting them down is the only viable option if we want to keep the witch we are protecting alive. I won’t lose you, Carolyn. Not again,” he growled, conviction hardened his tone.
Carolyn paused as she lifted a fork full of salad to her lips. “Again?”
“I met my soulmate once before. We were married only a handful of years when she died in childbirth. Believe it or not, you are my wife reincarnated. I recognized your soul when I kissed your cheek.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “This,” she waved her fork between the two of them, “is all about your deceased wife? I’m not warmed over leftovers! I’m not this Kyra woman. If you’re looking for a do over with your dead wife, think again. You either want her, or you want me, Carolyn Soucek, the woman who is NOT your dead wife.”