Black Magic Rose

by Jordan K. Rose

  Dragomir watched the house. Not a light lit anywhere. Sofia moved about in the dark, sobbing. “What have I done?” he heard her ask the question over and over, never once stopping for an answer.

  He leaned his head on the headrest.

  Squeaky pipes rattled inside the house and water began running, then splashing. She showered. To wash his scent away, he was sure.

  He closed his eyes and slouched down in the seat. He’d never planned to marry again. Not after losing his Elena. First their babies, then his wife. He’d never felt such pain. The losses of the children devastated them both, but then to have her taken, too, drove him to near madness.

  The shower stopped. The rings holding the shower curtain slid along the metal pole and then slid back.

  The taste of Sofia laced his tongue. His mouth held the sweet flavor of her blood. He hadn’t tasted another like her, not ever. Sweet, yet smoky as though fire stoked in the depths of her soul.

  Sofia had reacted so passionately to him during the mating ritual he believed she’d agreed to marry him because she cared for him. The way her body moved with his, the way her energy flowed to him, the way she looked at him—he believed she wanted him, maybe loved him.

  He’d allowed himself to forget what he was and to succumb to her wiles.

  He hadn’t seen that look in a woman’s eyes since…since his first wedding night.

  Women looked at him. They always looked. But they never saw. Their libidos responded to someone who could bring them pleasure they’d never experienced. And for them that was enough. Never mind the rest. Ignore the monster who lay in wait. The vampire who’d feed on their flesh, on their blood.

  Sofia saw. She knew. She’d known from the moment she laid eyes on him, and he repulsed her.

  She hadn’t wanted him. Strong beliefs in a nonviolent workplace led her to throw herself on the pyre for him. She foolishly believed she could force his kind and the werewolves to play nice. Now look what her ideas got her.

  His world was not nice. It was violent. In his world people died. They were killed. Many had been killed by him.

  Jankin was right. Sofia wouldn’t understand. And now she hated him. If she knew the truth, she’d hate them both.

  Had he done the right thing? Was there any other way?

  He stared into the trees. Nothing moved. Not a single night animal crawled among the leaves.

  The bed creaked. Sofia was finally lying down to rest. She needed to sleep. It would strengthen their bond, and it would give her mind time to process the evening’s events.

  The union existed. They’d spoken the words, shared their blood, even performed some sort of consummation of the act. For now this was all there would be. He wouldn’t, couldn’t even consider forcing her to seal the bond though he wanted her in his bed.

  If she ever offered, he’d weigh the option. He knew if they committed the last act she’d never be able to leave him. She would suffer by refusing to consummate the union with him, but she’d have some amount of freedom. Over time she could grow accustomed to the urge simmering inside her. She’d live with the feeling that something was missing, a constant reminder of the promise she’d made tonight. He wasn’t sure he could allow her to make the final commitment and condemn herself to him.

  When the time was right, he’d offer her the option to leave him. After he had ensured her ability to defend herself like any warrior’s mate, he would discuss it with her. If she wanted to go, he wouldn’t stop her. He wouldn’t let her go unprotected, and he was certain that would keep her enraged for the rest of her natural life, but at least she wouldn’t have to see him. In the meantime he’d prepare her for what was to come.

  They simply had to keep up a good front for safety sake. Tomorrow he’d explain. One thing was certain, he’d never coerce her into anything she didn’t fully comprehend. From now on he’d ensure she went into everything with a full understanding of the impact of her decisions.

  Dragomir’s job was to guard her, to keep her safe, no matter what the cost. He’d taken a blood oath to Jankin to protect her. Then he married her. Twice in less than a week he’d sworn his life for hers. He’d protect her even if it meant battling with her over foolish human ideals.

  In his entire vampire existence he’d managed to avoid this sort of tragedy. But in five night’s time he’d lost all common sense. He married a woman he hardly knew. He’d allowed her to wreak havoc in his life. Now his own fate was tied to hers. His existence depended on her. Fool. He’d do it again without a moment’s hesitation.

  How had he come to this point? How was this little woman able to do this to him? If he’d never met her, she’d be much happier, maybe even living her silly little nonviolent fantasy. She’d have never been burdened with him. He’d be happier and have fewer worries. The sudden thought of losing her caught him off guard.

  What if something happened to her when he wasn’t around? What if she fell down a flight of stairs wearing the wrong shoes or got into an accident?

  The car door groaned when he opened it. He checked the hinges. They needed oil. He popped the hood, checked the fluids. She needed windshield wiper fluid. He closed the hood and did a sweep of the perimeter.

  As long as everyone thought they were married, Sofia would be safe within his world. No one needed to know he wasn’t allowed in her house or that the pleasures of her flesh were only his when fully clothed and she’d somehow forgotten she hated him.

  Keeping her safe from herself was another issue altogether.

  He rounded the property. Nothing new on site. No tracks, scents, evidence of an intruder. The only thing of note was the heavy floral scent. Dragomir stood below her window, eyes closed, head tilted to the sky. Being bound to each other made it a thousand times easier to scent her.

  Magnolia? He shook his head and went back to checking the property.

  Finally he settled into a tree opposite her bedroom window, the one perpendicular to her bed, the one with the view of his sleeping wife. As long as everyone believed they’d consummated their union, consummated in the true definition, no one would bother Sofia. The Alliance would recognize her as his and give her a wide berth.

  Of course, she’d still need to control her ability to understand the wolves. Even though certain true mates of the most powerful vampires possessed this skill, it never settled well with the wolves.

  Who knew what other talents she possessed? He’d do his best to figure that out before she accidentally let them slip.

  For tonight he’d leave her to her tears. But tomorrow her training would continue. Whether she liked it or not she was his mate. Mating him may have saved her from a modern day witch hunt for possessing vampire powers without turning, but it didn’t mean she was safe from battle. And no mate of his would be caught unprepared and unable to defend herself should Bas Dubh come knocking. That included a mate who touted a nonviolent workplace resolution policy.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Someone growled.

  Sofia rolled over. The bedroom was dark.

  “Keep her safe.”

  “Why don’t you stay and guard her today? Oh, that’s right, you have to go hide from the sun.”

  “Do not test me, wolf.” Dragomir’s gravelly voice nearly matched the wolf’s growl.

  Even a flight above with a wall between them Sofia could hear Dragomir and Osgar argue. Had she developed supersonic hearing or were they yelling? She sat up and focused on their voices.

  “Not quite the man everyone thought. Couldn’t keep your hands off her.”

  She crawled toward the foot of the bed. The sun barely crested the horizon and in the far off distance a yellow glow lit between the darkness of the tree trunks.

  “Do not forget. I am your master.”

  “Well, Your Highness, your fall from grace has left us both feeling the pain.”

  “Someday I will explain.”

  “When? How long do I have to carry your burden?” Osgar snarled. Even in his wolf form his indignan
t tone was clear. His voice was harsh and cutting and he continued a low growl even when he wasn’t speaking.

  “That I cannot answer.”

  “Fucking vampires.” Footsteps on the porch below interrupted the conversation. Osgar’s human voice continued, “The least you could have done was win her over first. Are you so removed from humanity you can’t remember how to court a woman? Why? Why’d you do it?”

  A long pause hung between them, and Sofia leaned off the bed toward the window, equally as eager to know the answer.

  “You can’t even tell me that? You can’t even admit why you’d do something… You’ve executed vampires for this. How could you possibly do this to her?”

  Heavy boots clomped on the porch. “Another time, Osgar. For now keep my mate safe. In my stead I charge you with her life.”

  Osgar sighed.

  “You understand your duty?”

  “Yeah. I get it. Keep her alive so your life stays happy. Got it, Master.” Osgar’s human voice held all the venom of a man on the edge of rage.

  “My life is not my concern. And neither is yours.” Dragomir stepped off the porch. “The Alliance must always remain strong. Always be our first priority.”

  “Right. The Alliance.” The porch swing creaked. “No worries about a wife. Just concern for duty, no more honor, of course. Let’s just do our duty.”

  “Safe day.”

  “Yeah, sure. I’ll get her back to Cader as usual which is where you should be since you aren’t hiding in her basement. The fucking sun’s up.”

  Sofia leaned to her left and spied Dragomir at the edge of the woods. The sun still sat low, not even lighting the tree line. She couldn’t make out his features, but she felt his gaze land on hers. She shot backward, flopping down on a pillow.

  “Stay safe.” Dragomir’s voice brushed along her skin like a feather. She shivered and pulled the blanket up to her chin.

  “Whatever. Just get back to the fucking stronghold,” Osgar griped. “Be a shame for her to live the rest of her life in mourning because you forgot to take cover.”

  Sofia curled into a ball, squeezing her eyes shut against the world. For an hour she lay in that same position, willing herself back to sleep. But nothing worked. Her mind replayed the conversation she heard over and over, analyzing each word.

  Did he not care for her at all? Was he simply married to her to keep The Alliance safe? And how had marrying her done that? She did not recall drinking from him before last night. She’d have remembered something so heinous, wouldn’t she?

  Had she really married a man with no honor? Dr. MacDuff thought so highly of Dragomir. Had he been wrong? They’d known each other for centuries.

  It must be true. You never really knew a person. Or a vampire.

  She blinked into the darkness. Her mind raced. Married. She’d married Dragomir. Eternally. The ceremony took place on the floor of her office. She drank from him. It hadn’t been disgusting. When she tasted him, she’d enjoyed him. She’d enjoyed everything about it. The flavor, the feel of him coursing within her, his clear and overwhelming pleasure at her mouth on his skin. She’d wanted it to go on, to never end.

  What had she done?

  As the sun rose above the treetops sleep finally took her. She didn’t drift into it. She plummeted. Her eyelids grew too heavy to hold open. Her mind spun. She fell into slumber the same way a rock tossed from a dock drops to the bottom of a pond.

  Sofia didn’t dream. She simply slept. At last her mind was silent.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  At noon Dragomir rose. He’d rested in spite of needing to prepare. He hadn’t been tired and did not want to sleep, but the choice was not his. Sofia needed to rest. So he needed to be still for her. He’d keep his energy quiet to try to allow her more sleep. But he knew it would be a challenge. He felt her blood coursing through his veins, teasing him until his desire for her was nearly impossible to control. He wanted her in his arms.

  Dragomir stood naked in his sparse quarters. His bedroom held simply a bed and a side table with one lamp. Not even a bureau. The bed held one pillow. He’d need two, if she was ever going to sleep here.

  The stark white walls were a definite contrast to Sofia’s home. She didn’t have a white wall in the place, not one he could see from any window. Color, color, color. Warm sunset shades and greens, yellow in the kitchen, blue in a bathroom, even a red wall in one of the rooms.

  He stretched his hands over his head then out to his sides and down to his toes. When he stood tall, he let his head roll back and over to the side onto his shoulder, around to his chest and up to the opposite shoulder. He inhaled, held the breath deep in his lungs. His scent was different.

  Florally.

  He raised his hands to his face. He smelled of her. Sofia. How quickly it happened. She would smell of him now, too. The scent was their mark. The two individual scents joined as one. Vampires and wolves would smell them both and know they were bound. Even humans would sense it.

  He groaned. God I hope I don’t smell like petunias. He sat on the floor to finish his stretching routine. When he was done every muscle group was thoroughly awakened, limber, and ready for action.

  A quick shower in his equally barren bathroom. One large shower stall. One sink. One mirror and a john. He did own towels, several. They’d been a gift from Meg. A joke. Something fluffy to add a homey feel to his quarters. She made him promise to keep them and he had.

  After pulling on his jeans he moved through the rest of his chamber making mental notes of the tools he needed, his plan for training Sofia, and the alterations needed in his living quarters.

  He stood in the common room and surveyed its contents: a sofa, a lamp, one chair, and a bookshelf. On his desk sat a computer, one pen and one notepad. Not one thing hung on his walls. And no rug on the floor.

  He wasn’t here that often. He traveled a great deal. He didn’t require much to exist. She’d get used to it. She’d be traveling more, too. She had a passport. Didn’t she want to use it?

  The coffee pot beeped. Dragomir poured a cup and added a good measure of cream, one cube of sugar. Then he sat at the small table in his kitchen. He’d need more kitchen stuff. Pots. Pans. More than beverages. He’d have to eat food while she was here.

  He’d stopped eating hundreds of years ago. Most vampires only ate to fit in. He didn’t even bother with that anymore. Now he’d have no choice. It was very clear he needed to do whatever he could to help her acclimate. Eating food was probably going to be expected.

  He rubbed his eyes. How had this happened?

  He finished his coffee, scrubbed the pot, coffee grounds basket and mug and replaced everything. Then he swigged a couple mouthfuls of cherry juice from the bottle in the fridge before he finished dressing.

  Sofia must train. She must learn to defend herself. Their lives depended on her ability to hold her own. Dragomir unlocked his weapons chamber. He chuckled. Pantry—weapons chamber. Pretty much the same thing in his mind.

  After gathering several stakes and knives of different lengths he headed down the hall to see the blacksmith.

  “Congratulations, man.” Dice laughed. “Who’d have thought you’d take the leap?” The blacksmith greeted Dragomir with genuine happiness. “Welcome to the club.”

  Dragomir nodded. Apparently, Dice hadn’t heard about how he joined the club or the welcome would have been much cooler.

  Dragomir nodded. “My blades need honing. As well as these stakes.” He laid the weapons on the table.

  “Ah, training her already. No time to keep her soft, enjoy her a bit?” Dice grinned.

  “No. She’s too weak. She must learn to defend herself.” Dragomir forced the memory of her writhing in his arms last night from his mind. There was no time for any of that. She’d never acquiesce, never offer, never even consider making love to him. He’d have to enjoy helping her become indestructible. That’s the only way he was going to find his pleasure.

  “Ah, sometimes they are
more fun to wrestle anyway.” Dice laughed. “Are you training her on the stake already?” He held one in each hand, gripping them like a warrior, ready to plunge them deep. “It might be a little too early in your bond to teach this technique.” A look of concern flashed on the blacksmith’s face. “They do tend to question our righteousness while we train them. You are training her hard enough to handle combat, should she be ambushed. Yes?”

  Dragomir hadn’t thought about the fact that she’d question his motives for existing more than she already had. She didn’t trust him at all. How could she possibly trust him less? Maybe teaching her the specifics for dispatching a vampire should be delayed. Maybe they’d stick with self-defense. “Eventually, I will train her on the stake, but first the basics.” He inspected one of his swords again before handing it to Dice. “Sharpen it. I haven’t used it in many years.”

  The blacksmith nodded. “Has she mastered hand-to-hand combat?”

  “No. We have only begun to train.” Dragomir added two more knives and six stakes from under his coat to the pile. “Sharpen them all.” Hand-to-hand combat? He stifled a laugh. She could barely remain standing in an argument never mind if anyone touched her.

  She was defenseless and foolish. She challenged werewolves, literally argued with them when she’d already angered them to the point of shifting in front of her. How many women did that? Couldn’t have been many. She was going to get herself killed. He needed to call upstairs, make sure she hadn’t pissed anyone off yet today.

  “You worry.” Dice turned a dial and the sharpening stone began to spin.

  “She’s human.” And she had no ability to think rationally. He closed his eyes. How could he train rational thought? Impossible.

  Dice nodded. “So was Jade.” He ran his hand along the sword then held it out in front of him, staring down the blade. “That was sixty something years ago now.” He placed the sword on the anvil and grabbed his hammer.