Those were very good questions. Good enough to force Dragomir to give up his futile attempt to find Sofia. And though Dragomir knew the answers, he couldn’t for the life of him understand them. Jefferson had attacked Sofia or at the very least made a clear threat of attack. His thoughts were of seducing her and drinking from her until there was not a drop of blood left in her body.
Dragomir ran his hand through his hair, holding it back from his face. He sighed, unable to comprehend Sofia’s thinking. “The woman wants him to be given the chance to explain his actions before he is punished.”
“What’s to explain? He’s a fledgling with bloodlust.” Noelle shook her head. “I knew this new employee relations position was a mistake.” She tossed the wrappers from the IV and bandages into the trash bin. “I hope I’m not going to be expected to waste precious Alliance supplies and time caring for the likes of this guy. You know what will happen. He’ll just do it again. Now that he has her on his mind, he won’t be able to forget about her. He’ll be completely obsessed.” She jammed the table against the wall. “How many chances does this behavior get? Hmm?”
Noelle echoed the feelings of most of the leaders at Cader House. The idea of progressive discipline and allowing employees the opportunity to improve over time had not been well received. This was an organization of warriors. They were accustomed to dealing with bad behavior in a swift, decisive manner. The basic theory being—if you were dumb enough or devious enough to do it, you deserved to die for it.
Noelle released her long blond hair from the giant clip holding it into a tight twist. “And to think I used sterile technique on this guy.” She glared at Jefferson. “We’re watching you. She may not understand, but we know what you’re up to.” Her fangs descended.
Dragomir admired her. He’d fought beside her in Greece in 1848. She was strong, proud, and cunning. She knew the problems that lay ahead of them with Jefferson. He’d keep Noelle as an ally, though he’d trust Sofia’s safety to no one but himself. He realized now that even Jankin did not see the dangers surrounding her.
Jankin thought Bas Dubh was his biggest worry. But Sofia was going to get herself killed on her own and probably right at Cader. Her ridiculous idea of Employee Relations applying to vampires and werewolves had just moved into the number one spot on the list of reasons to be concerned for her safety.
“Hey, what happened to your shirt?” Noelle nodded, one brow arched. “Did this guy actually put up a fight?”
Dragomir glanced down. His shirt hung from his waistband and the left side of his chest was exposed. A light florally scent lingered on his coat. His shoulder even carried her sweet clean scent. He couldn’t help but subtly inhale the fragrance.
“What? Do you have BO? That would be a first.” Noelle sniffed toward Dragomir. “Vampire BO. Ha. Maybe Sofia can write a new policy on vampire bathing.” She grinned with fanged delight.
He shrugged out of his coat and ripped the remainder of the shirt from his body. “She happened to my shirt. The woman has no idea what she’s dealing with.” He tossed the shredded shirt into the trash before slipping back into his duster. “I go.”
“Ah, yes. Duty calls. Go guard your charge before she ends up getting herself killed by another fledgling or possibly bitten by a werewolf or maybe trips and falls out of the building or…” She grinned. “I think you may have met your match in this one, Dragomir.” She barely concealed her laughter.
Dragomir left the infirmary to the sound of Noelle talking to herself about how “the fine and noble, mighty and powerful Dragomir has come to Cader House to face his newest opponent, the all-powerful Employee Relations Manager.” Her laughter followed him up the stairs.
He once again sent out his vampire senses searching for Sofia.
Chapter Six
Louis smiled as he paced back and forth in the conference room. He even did a couple jumping jacks to demonstrate his good physical condition. After escorting Louis from his hospital bed Osgar had left him alone with Sofia.
“Louis, you are allowed to speak freely. I don’t want you to have any fear of repercussions from Rick or anyone else.”
“Really, I feel fine, Ms. Engle.” Louis jumped over a chair.
“Sofia. Please call me Sofia,” she said. “But did your ankles hurt when you fell?”
“Oh, yes. Broken bones hurt quite a bit. You’d think I’d get used to the feeling, having broken them both five times now in the past week, but nope. Every night it hurts as much as the first night.”
Sofia cringed and shook her head. “Why do you keep going back?”
“I have to. They’re helping me.” He nodded toward the door. “Rick’s a little tough. But I like the other guys. And anyway, by morning I’m good as new.”
“But you said you’re afraid of heights and that’s why you won’t jump,” Sofia said.
“Right. It’s really high.” Louis turned the chair to face him and sat down, straddling the back, tapping his thumbs on the table in front of him. “I can’t even look out a second story window without getting nervous. I know it seems strange, seeing that I’m more than six feet tall and all. But it is what it is. I’m afraid of heights. I’m not ashamed of that or anything. Although, I am getting a little embarrassed at being tossed off the roof each night. Doesn’t help when even the girls jump without effort.” His shoulders slumped.
“Are you and Charlie friends?” she asked. She couldn’t help herself. They seemed so alike. They even looked alike. Both blonds with bluish-green eyes, though Louis was quite a bit taller than Charlie.
“Oh yeah. We went to school together from first through fifth grades. Then my parents sent me to private school. I only graduated a year ago. I was going to the university when I was attacked on the quad one night.”
Sofia nodded. “What were you studying?”
“Engineering. I’m hoping to go back next year. It takes about a year to acclimate to everything. Of course, in my case, it may take longer. If I don’t master the jump, they won’t teach me to fight. I have to learn to fight.” He stared down at his folded hands on the table in front of him. “I don’t want to be useless in the war.”
“You won’t be, even if you don’t master the jump,” Sofia said.
There was no way she was letting them toss him off another roof. There needed to be some sort of exception so he didn’t have to do it. They couldn’t keep terrorizing him with the jump.
“Can I go? I have to meet them in fifteen minutes and I need to get changed.” Louis tugged at his johnny.
Sofia nodded. “Yeah, but don’t go to the roof. There must be something else Osgar can find for you to learn.”
“I gotta go. I gotta master the jump. If I don’t go they’ll just find me and drag me back,” he said. “Don’t worry. I’ll get the jump somehow. Then I’ll learn to fight. I don’t want to die.” Louis left, jogging out the door.
She shook her head and watched him leave. How in the world was she going to fix this? They had this poor kid believing he had to master the jump in order to live. She paged Osgar to tell him to send Rick down and wrote her notes on her pad.
Ten minutes later Rick entered the room. If knowing how he trained the new recruits wasn’t enough, his stature was a clear indicator of his status in the pack.
At more than six feet, six inches tall, he loomed over her. A few flecks of silver speckled his cropped brown hair. His face was shaved smooth and a jagged scar ran from his left temple to his ear. Steel gray eyes stared unblinking at her.
“Please have a seat, Rick.” She motioned to the chair on the opposite side of the table.
“I’ll stand.” His gruff voice was a perfect match for his rugged presentation.
Sofia swallowed and nodded. “Very well.” She stood, too. “Please explain what happened with Louis last night.”
He didn’t flinch, just stared down at her, his gaze piercing into her like a steak knife into a cupcake. She could just about feel the jagged edges of a blade ripping into he
r, but she held her own, never once looking away.
She’d learned a few things about werewolves in the past few weeks. First, they were just like vampires with the dominance issues. There was a hierarchy and the higher up you were, the more capable you were of controlling everyone else. Second, everything was a test of dominance—so never, ever let them see you sweat.
Even if you weren’t a werewolf, they tried to dominate you and though they usually existed side by side with humans in a very cordial manner, they believed themselves to be superior.
Sofia didn’t look away in spite of the overwhelming desire to rip her gaze from his and duck into the nearby closet. “Your explanation?” If she was going to succeed in this job, she’d have to hold her own with Rick and every other nonhuman working here.
“A training exercise.”
Sofia scribbled the words on her note pad then circled them. “That’s it? That’s how you explain shoving a young man off a roof?”
“Pushing. Yes.”
“The difference between pushing and shoving is what?” She stood up straight, gripping her pen so tightly she thought it would snap.
Why in the world they continued to differentiate between the two she could not fathom. Either one explained exactly what had been done.
Rick stared straight ahead as though he was studying a spot on the wall. “Sometimes recruits need encouragement. A little push.”
She nodded and noted his response, turned away, and wrote a few more lines on her pad, glanced at Rick, and then continued with her notes. Defining encouragement would become a priority. She’d add it to the Workplace Violence Policy. Encouragement vs. Abuse. She sighed.
“Are we done?” He stood with hands behind his back, legs parted, shoulders squared. He had to be a good three feet wide.
“When you shoved Louis off the roof last night, was it the first time?”
“It was the first and only time I pushed him.”
“Are you stating you did not shove Louis off the roof every other night for the last week?” Her pen stopped moving, and she looked up at Rick, studying his face. He blinked once.
“No.”
“What are you saying?”
“Last night I gave him the necessary encouragement one time. He was incapable of attempting the jump more than once.”
“But you have pushed him off the roof before, correct?” Sofia’s hand tightened even further around her pen.
“You know that to be the case.”
“So, yes?”
The edge of a tattoo showed on Rick’s left bicep below his sleeve. A claw. He nodded.
“And you’ve felt the need to push Louis off the roof every night for the past week for what reason?” She flipped the page of her notepad.
“Your game grows tiresome.” He snickered.
“This would be a lot easier if you’d simply explain the circumstances of what has occurred rather than require me to drag every detail from you.” Sofia sighed. “Is there no other way for him to learn this task?”
“He must learn to jump and land in order to be able to fight. The skill is required.” His cheek twitched. “If he cannot master this, he is useless.”
Sofia’s jaw tensed. “Louis is not useless whether he can jump off a roof or not. He, like every other employee, brings something valuable to this organization. You just need to figure out what that is. And requiring him to master something he cannot is insane and cruel. Your training techniques are barbaric, torturous.”
“You do not understand our world.”
“You do not understand employment law, hostile work environments, or workers’ compensation, not to mention the plain and simple fact that assaulting employees, or anyone for that matter, is wrong and just downright mean.” She slammed her notebook and pen on the table.
“Your foolish idea that we should apply human resources practices to non-humans is outrageous.” He leaned on the table, hands curled, knuckles down. “You are putting this entire organization at risk by attempting to force us to comply with this nonsense. War is a costly endeavor.”
“And you are putting this organization at risk by purposefully injuring employees. The cost of every hospitalization alone should be enough to make you stop, if cost is all you’re concerned with.” She folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. He wasn’t the first manager who’d been on the wrong side of the Employment Law. She wasn’t backing down. “You are not to force Louis off the roof again.”
“You are not to tell me how to run my training exercises.” The table groaned under his fists. “We need trained soldiers now. War looms around us.”
“Are you planning to push him again?”
“I’ll do what needs to be done to make him worthy as a member of The Alliance. Whatever it takes.” The scar at his temple throbbed, reminding Sofia of the red warning light signaling her car engine was overheating. “I will not risk having wolves who are not prepared to fight to the death. Bas Dubh will not play patty-cake to decide who wins.”
There was no way she was allowing anymore workplace violence to occur. Not on her watch. “I’m suspending you. You’ve left me no choice. I can’t risk the safety of even one employee because you insist on continuing these barbaric training tactics. You’ll leave the building and stay home until a decision is made on how to handle this situation.” She shook her head, picked up her pen, and scribbled her decision on the notepad. She knew she’d have a lot of explaining to do to Dr. MacDuff and Fergus, but Osgar could simply take over the training, and they wouldn’t lose any ground.
A loud crack sounded and the table crashed to the floor. Her notepad slipped out of her hand, and she tumbled downward, landing in a heap, still gripping her pen.
“I do not take orders from you!” Rick’s voice bellowed above her.
She pulled herself up to her knees and managed to get to her feet, though she’d somehow lost a shoe, torn her skirt, and her stockings had holes in both knees. “Oh, yes you do!” she shouted. “Now get out!” She pointed toward the door. Blue ink stained her hand. The damn pen had snapped in half when she fell.
She glanced up and was shocked by what she saw. Rick, the man, no longer stood in front of her. Instead, some sort of combination human-wolf towered over her. He stood on two clawed feet, was covered in fur, and the only thing about his face that resembled the man she’d just been speaking to was the giant scar that parted his fur and rippled when he opened his mouth to growl. He stalked forward, saliva dripping from his mouth.
She dropped the broken pen and stumbled backward, tripping over her shoe and landing on her ass.
Chapter Seven
Dragomir may not have been able to sense her aura, but he could hear her scream. He smashed open the conference room door and leapt between Sofia and Rick. His body tingled, the anticipation of a battle fueling his already burning need for action.
Color faded from his vision. Only hues of black and white appeared before him. How easy it was for him to slide into warrior-mode. Not just easy, but comfortable and welcome. He’d been itching for something to do, some excitement since leaving Rome. Finally, a fight.
He scanned the room, taking in the state of the situation. Smashed table, ink splatters, one angry werewolf holding a notepad. And Sofia, his charge, sprawled on the floor.
Rick growled.
Sofia gasped.
Dragomir’s hands flexed around his daggers.
Rick shifted his weight and inched closer.
Dragomir took a measured step toward the werewolf.
Rick lifted the notepad into the air and ripped it down the center, then hurled the halves in opposite directions. Shreds of paper flew about the air. A chair flew at Dragomir, and he batted it away without blinking.
Sofia whimpered. The soft, breathy sound drew Dragomir’s attention from the impending fight. He glanced over his shoulder to be sure she wasn’t hurt.
She’d fallen on her backside into a disheveled mess, quite the opposite of what she’d looked like
not an hour ago. She was missing a shoe. Bruises had formed on both her knees, and a deep red stream of blood ran down her left shin. Blue ink covered her hands and smudged her cheek and the tip of her nose. Long strands of hair had come loose from her bun and floated around her face while the actual bun hung like a ball on the side of her head. Her wide, green eyes stared at the werewolf across the room and her mouth hung open, lips forming a perfect circle.
Something within Dragomir twisted. For a split second conflict rose within him. He must decide. Kill the wolf. Help Sofia.
What was wrong with him? She was fine. She could get herself up and find her shoe and fix her hair and wash her hands. And face. Her nose. And lips. Of course she could. She didn’t need a warrior to do those things for her. He wasn’t her lady-in-waiting. He was her bodyguard. Her comfort was not his concern. Her safety was his only responsibility.
The fact that she was frightened by the big bad wolf was not an issue he needed to contend with. His issue was the angry werewolf standing in front of him. His job was to thwart all attempts by anyone to harm even a single hair on her silly little head.
Dragomir forced his mind back to the fight and struggled to regain his focus. Not until the blue ink blotch on the tip of her nose appeared black was he sure he was focused enough for battle. And though it only took seconds, it felt like hours that he was trapped in some sort of spell. Trapped by her beguiling eyes.
He snarled and turned back to Rick in plenty of time to see the razor sharp claw take a swipe at him. He darted to the side and came up behind Rick. Dragomir pulled the wolf backward and wrenched his left arm up behind his back while pressing a knife to his throat.
“What is the meaning of this attack on Ms. Engle?” Dragomir demanded.
Rick growled and foolishly attempted to break free of Dragomir’s hold. Dragomir slid the knife along Rick’s neck to the spot two inches from his spine causing a thin line of blood to seep from beneath the fur. Then he drove the knife into Rick’s neck, pinching the scruff into a bunched clump of skin and fur and bringing the wolf down to his knees.
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