The Community Series, Books 1-3

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The Community Series, Books 1-3 Page 22

by Tappan, Tracy


  “You ready, Toni?” Alex was perched on the edge of a long, oval table. They were in a conference room in the hematology wing, with the other Dragons seated in plush chairs around it at the far end of the room, minus Kimberly, who was still downstairs in the Emergency Room. Their combined seven children were safely tucked away in the hospital daycare. Just tonight, Toni had tendered her resignation at Scripps, but had kept her hospital privileges as an adjunct physician.

  She took a deep breath. Right. Keep focused. This was hardly the time to get caught up in a love-daze. Much still had to be decided before she earned her Happily Ever After – if she earned it. Giving Alex a quick nod, she stepped out of the conference room.

  Jacken was on point, in front of the other Vârcolac, and the sight of him flipped her stomach into a full somersault. Sweet Jesus. He looked smokin’ hot, from his thickly corded legs in black jeans to the leather jacket that hugged the V-shape of his muscular body, the snug fit of his clothes highlighting his masculinity and power. It made her want to do nothing more than run her hands all over those chiseled bulges. She released a slow breath. Damn, who would’ve guessed Tall, Dark, and Homicidal was what buttered her bread, but evidently it was.

  The rest of the men were well-dressed in suits, except for Sedge, who was wearing olive slacks and a dark mauve button-down left open at the collar. Dr. Jess had also thrown on a white lab coat for good measure.

  She was extra glad now she’d taken such care with her own appearance. She’d clipped her hair into an elegant ponytail, which lay shimmering over one shoulder, and had dressed in a newly-purchased black pencil skirt, black sling-back pumps, and a wraparound blue silk blouse which, while totally decent in all respects, had made even her own eyes go a little zowie when she’d seen The Girls in the mirror. She’d wanted to look pretty for this, though, and … apparently, she’d succeeded.

  The group of Vârcolac slammed to a halt the moment she stepped into the hallway.

  “Goodness,” slipped incredulously past Dr. Jess’s lips, while Jacken looked like he wished he had a lead pipe to gnaw through.

  She strode forward, fighting the urge to run at Jacken and throw her arms around his thick neck with a Got any Hershey’s syrup and whipped cream handy? or something equally subtle and coy.

  “Gentlemen,” she greeted as she came to a stop in front of them. This close, she saw that Jacken was drawn and leaner, still totally do-able, but definitely a man who looked like he’d been through the wringer. Had this past week been as awful for him as it had been for her? Probably rude to hope so. “Thank you for coming.”

  Jacken glowered at her. “Do you have any idea how fucking worried we’ve been about all of you?”

  She paused, momentarily caught off guard by his heated rejoinder. Then she piffed a breath. Well, it was nice to know some things never changed, and Jacken’s inability to be diplomatic about anything that displeased him was clearly one of life’s constants.

  “You’re a lovely sight, Dr. Parthen,” Roth complimented. “But also a surprising one. Once you rid yourself of us, we never thought to see you again.”

  “If all goes well with our negotiations, Mr. Mihnea, I plan to return to the community.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jacken stiffen. Was that a good or bad sign?

  “I see,” Roth said noncommittally.

  “Why don’t we all go into the conference room.” She gestured toward the door. “We’ll have plenty of privacy there.”

  The seven men stepped inside. Luken, Pedrr, and Willen started for their wives at the far side of the room, but Toni pulled out a chair at this end of the table, prompting them with another, “Gentlemen.”

  There would be no consorting during negotiations.

  The husbands reluctantly sat.

  Sedge began to sit, noting his wife’s absence with a frown, then shot up again.

  Roth had spotted the intruder, too. “We have a visitor, I see.”

  “This is my brother, Alex,” Toni said.

  Jacken put two and two together. “You told him about us?!”

  “Yes,” she replied calmly. She physically turned Alex around and lifted the back of his T-shirt, showing them the significant brown dragon tattoo marks on his back, originally thought to be the aftereffects of a bad sunburn. “He’s one of us.”

  She politely gestured everyone to take a seat. Toni and Alex sat on one side of the table, Roth, Jacken, and Dr. Jess across from the two of them, with the Dragons and the husbands seated at opposite ends. Perfect positioning for a typical Mexican standoff.

  She folded her hands on the top of the table and locked gazes with Roth, blue eyes clashing with gray ones. They weren’t in his library-office with her trapped and helpless this time, were they? He damned well needed to be fully aware of that.

  Roth broke eye contact long enough to glance around the conference room. “All of this drama doesn’t seem like your style, Dr. Parthen.”

  She lazily lifted her brows at him, adopting an expression of mild curiosity, almost boredom. An interesting opening sally. Was Roth trying to make her feel churlish? Childish? Or get under her skin by making her think he knew her better than she knew herself? She smiled. She wouldn’t give him any of it. “You made the dramatic gesture necessary, Mr. Mihnea. You weren’t listening to the women of your community down in Ţărână. The hope is that we’ll have better luck with you up here.”

  “Just because someone doesn’t concede to another’s wishes,” Roth countered smoothly, “doesn’t mean he hasn’t heard them.”

  “Ah.” Toni sat back, her forearms on the armrests. “So you were just ignoring them?”

  “Not in the disrespectful way you’re suggesting.” Roth steepled his fingers together in front of him. “I assure you that I haven’t been disregarding anyone’s feelings or wishes. There have just been issues of survival at stake.”

  “We appreciate that you’re dealing with your own set of challenges.” She paused a moment, tamping down the urge to snark, spare us that argument, we’ve all heard it ad infinitum. That probably would come across as churlish. “Our position is this, however: nothing excuses taking women against their will. If you continue to kidnap Dragons, we will refuse to live in Ţărână. That’s the bottom line, and it’s non-negotiable.”

  His brows arching, Roth turned to look at the Dragons at the far end of the table. “You plan to leave your husbands and children?”

  Toni felt her face tightening, her jaw locking. She and Kimberly had discussed the possibility that Roth would use the Dragons’ love for their Vârcolac husbands against them. Now here he was, being oh-so-Roth-like. “The Dragons have no intention of leaving their children. They’ll live topside with them.”

  Willen sucked in a breath. “By darkest night.”

  “Maggie, my dear …” Luken began.

  “The husbands,” Toni plowed on before the Dragons could waver, “will be invited topside once a week during nighttime hours to feed.” She smiled tightly at Roth. “The Dragon women don’t want any harm to come to their men, whom they love dearly.”

  “No.” Jacken snapped off the single word like a curse.

  She shifted frosty eyes over to him. “Unless you plan to kidnap us again, and woe betide anyone who tries it,” she gritted, “then you can take your no and stuff it. The only way to get us back into the community is by agreeing to our demands.” She looked at Roth again.

  He inclined his head at her. “Nicely played.”

  “This isn’t a game,” she shot back, air burning through her lungs. “The Dragons engineered this escape to make sure that you understand they’re dead serious about their concerns over Ţărână’s leadership. I recommend you listen to them, Roth, for once.”

  Roth tucked his steepled hands beneath his chin and regarded her mutely.

  Chapter Thirty

  Jacken almost turned to glare at Roth with a silent Just give her what she wants, you dumb shit. But he fought off the urge, keeping his eyes
locked straight ahead, like a good little damned solider.

  A cold knot formed in his stomach, so tight it hurt. If Toni and Roth didn’t manage to smoke the fucking peace pipe together, then Jacken would have to let Toni walk right back out of his life. Yeah, no prob. And while he was at it, he’d just barbecue his own heart for dinner. Jacken turned his gaze to the pitcher of water and four glasses sitting in the middle of the conference table. Screw it. LEAVE, already. Whatever. The sight of Toni looking so damned beautiful was making him nuts, anyway.

  He shut his eyes briefly and inhaled a slow breath. Christ’s sake, it felt like someone had installed new hardware in his brain – and mis-wired it. His thinking was completely warped. One minute he was filled with an elation he’d never known at having Toni back, his blood practically skipping through his veins, and smelling her was … hell. Having her scent back in his head was such a profound comfort, it made him realize just how broken he’d been this past week. Just how much he needed her to make him feel like a whole person. The other side of his schizophrenic madness wanted to drop-kick her to the curb without delay. Because, thing was, he was under no delusions that if she returned to the community, at some point she’d pick a mate.

  Would it be Thomal of the Fine Ass? Most-fucking-likely. Or Dev the Schlong, as he’d heard the man called? Yeah, wouldn’t that be just jim dandy imagining those two bumping fuzzies every day.

  Roth’s long exhale jerked Jacken back to the present.

  The leader of Ţărână scrubbed a hand over his face, his expression turning weary, exposing the fatigue Jacken knew Roth had been feeling all week, if not longer.

  Normally, it was impossible to tell the age difference between Jacken and Roth. Until a Vârcolac became an elder, he or she looked about the same at twenty-one as at one hundred and twenty-one. But at times like these, Roth showed his age. It was in his eyes, the look of a man who’d spent more than a hundred years watching his race die, the look of a man who had an entire species’ existence on his shoulders.

  “You may not believe this,” Roth said to Toni, “but we Vârcolac have always prided ourselves on being the good guys. I’ve hated that our desperate straits have led us away from that for a time.” He looked down at his hands for a long moment. “I can’t do it anymore. I just can’t bear everyone’s displeasure; I’m too tired.” He looked up. “I agree to your demands, Toni. No more kidnappings. And if that means our breed must die out, well ….” He trailed off.

  Jacken heard the husbands shift in their seats. A heavy pause pushed air out of the room.

  Toni’s expression softened, the color in her eyes deepening. “I don’t want the Vârcolac race to go extinct any more than you do, Roth. If you truly are the good guys, then I’d like to see you have the chance to show that, to be the proud, wonderful breed that you no doubt are. My brother and I have been tossing around a plan to get Dragon women down into Ţărână voluntarily.”

  The room stilled.

  “Can you … truly do that?” Roth asked in a quietly stunned tone.

  “I believe we can, yes, but it’s going to require a willingness on your part to get out of your comfort zone and loosen up on some security measures. To change,” Toni emphasized.

  Roth closed his eyes for a long second. “I’ve been insisting we keep to the old ways of being for too long, I realize that. Danger has followed us for so many years, we’ve already had to lose so much of ourselves because of the necessity of hiding. I’ve probably been holding onto our culture too tightly because of that.”

  “I would never ask you to give up your culture entirely.” Toni glanced wryly at the other Dragon women. “We know how frustrating it is when someone is forced to do that.”

  Roth pushed his lips together into a closed-mouth smile.

  “By the same token, Ţărână is a town of mixed cultures now, Roth, and the leadership there needs to reflect both sides if you want to have a successful and harmonious community. For one, the humans need democracy; they need representation. On the other hand, I also realize that your tradition permits only Vârcolac of royal lineage to hold positions of authority. That leaves me as the perfect answer. I can bring a human perspective to the table, yet my royal bloodlines will allow me to lead beside you without putting Vârcolac noses out of joint.”

  Jacken snapped his brows together. What?

  Toni smiled. “As it turns out, I’m a Royal. So is my brother.”

  “But … how can that be?” Roth breathed.

  Toni looked at her brother. “Show them The Book, Alex.”

  Reaching into a duffle bag at his feet, Alex fished out a book with a crescent and star on the cover, then stood and leaned over the table, setting it in front of Roth.

  Dr. Jess gasped. “Good heavens! It’s the Străvechi Caiet!”

  Alex sat back down. “Hey, so you know it.”

  “Stars above, yes. This is the book of our history, both past and future.” Dr. Jess stared at Alex in awestruck wonder. “However did you get ahold of it?”

  Alex’s eyes lit. “Kind of magically, I guess.”

  A small huff passed Jess’s lips. “I wouldn’t doubt it. The Străvechi Caiet has been lost to us for a century.” He reverently opened the first page of the book, then turned another and another, all the while marveling.

  “Can you read it?” Alex asked.

  “Of course not,” Jess scoffed, “no one can. Not unless you’re a ….” The doctor whipped his gaze up. “You can, can’t you? That’s how you know that you and Toni are Royals.”

  Alex shrugged. “Yeah, some of it. I should be able to read more, I sense that, but … I don’t know, something’s always just kind of in the way.”

  “By holiest night,” the doctor whispered. “You’re a Soothsayer.”

  Jesus, Alex Parthen might as well have just crapped a brand-new, gold-plated Sigmund-phase piece of lab equipment, the way Dr. Jess was looking at him now.

  “A …? Really?” Alex perked up, glancing at Toni. “Hey, that sounds cool, doesn’t it?”

  “I prefer Know-It-All,” Toni returned drolly.

  “Ha! Would you listen to that! She’s just getting me back for all the times I called her stubborn.”

  Roth regarded Alex solemnly. “If you don’t mind a question, Mr. Parthen, what would be the name of the line you’re descended from?”

  Alex smiled broadly. “Ah, a test. No, that’s cool. Human Dragon royalty descends from King Σoseph of the Flacără line,” he rattled off. “The Royal Vârcolac come from Σoseph’s cousin, Ællen, of the Seară.”

  Jacken exhaled under his breath. I’ll be damned ….

  “Well.” Roth looked a little amazed now, too. “You couldn’t have known that unless you’d studied Vârcolac/Dragon history in our community school.”

  Dr. Jess clapped his hands together. “Do you realize what this means?! The Parthens are more than just Royal – they’re Royal Fey.” Jess beamed at them. “That means you both have enchantment skills, yours, Mr. Parthen, being soothsaying. Although clearly the majority of your power has been confined under centuries of repression. We must figure out how to release it.” Jess looked at Roth. “Why didn’t we see this before, Roth? They both have red in their hair and…dear heavens, Toni has always smelled different, hasn’t she?!”

  Jacken darted his eyes over to Toni. Holy fuck.

  Nodding slowly, Roth looked at Toni for an elongated moment. “A co-leader, you say?”

  Maggie piped in, “We won’t return to Ţărână without her.”

  Roth chuckled. “No need to take a stand on this particular issue. I very much relish the thought of your co-leadership, Toni. I’ve been in sole charge of Ţărână for a very long time now.” He stood and held out his hand. “Welcome aboard.”

  Jacken’s heart played pinball against every bone in his ribcage as he watched Toni rise to her feet and shake Roth’s hand. The two had come to an agreement. Toni was returning to Ţărână.

  “Actually, there’s sti
ll one minor caveat to me coming back,” she said.

  Jacken’s elation dropped away like a stone in a deep well. Christ, what now –? Oh, crap. The back of his nape prickled as Toni turned a penetrating blue stare on him.

  “You and I,” she said, “need to settle our disagreement first.”

  This couldn’t be good. “I wasn’t aware we had one.”

  “Unfortunately, we do.” She sank gracefully back into her chair. “I want to be your mate, and you keep refusing me like a stubborn ass. I’d say that’s a disagreement.”

  Searing heat slapped him in the cheeks as a raging mass of unpleasant emotions churned through him: anger that she would revisit something so painful to him, awkwardness that everyone was now gawking at him, no one bothering to hide how amazed they were that a woman of Toni’s caliber could want him. Yeah, shut your traps and join the club, people. And also some kind of bizarre-o childish gee whiz, hurray, she wants me feeling that made him want to bang his head on the conference table a couple of hundred times.

  “Sorry if my Om Rău genes are getting in the way of your dreams of domestic bliss.” Shit, that came out even more snarky than he’d intended.

  “Bound by a vow of celibacy, no vasectomy possible, blah, blah, blah. Yes, I remember all the reasons you can’t.”

  He stared at her. You’ve got to be shitting me. “Your blasé understanding of the circumstances is touching.”

  “The hell if I’m being blasé,” she snapped back. “I’m telling you none of that matters. I just need to know if you love me. That’s it. The rest we can work out.”

  The heat was back in his face full-force. He’d never been the type of man to melt beneath a table in embarrassment and he wasn’t going to start now. Tempting, but fuck, no. “I’m not talking about this with you here.” Or ever.

  “You’re going to have to,” she countered. “I can’t go back to Ţărână until I know.”

  He gave her a hard look. “Are you threatening the welfare of the community over a –?”

 

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