The Vampire King’s Nanny (The Vampire King Chronicles Book 7)

by T. S. Ryder

  The Dragon who stood before her was tall and muscular, even more so than the average Shifter. Dragons, in general, were larger than, say, a Wolf, but they were even more reclusive than their Shifter cousins. They mostly lived in old-growth forests here and on every continent other than Antarctica. They were venerated in most societies.

  Grayson was probably one of the most handsome marks she had ever had. Black hair, sun-kissed skin, steady eyes, and a sharp jawline and cheekbone combo that made every magazine he was featured on fly off the shelves like they were jet planes. In his black suit, he looked like a movie star on the red carpet.

  "Has Henry given you a tour of the place?" he glanced at the Dragon that had brought her up.

  Henry Landon, Grayson's best friend. Not a serious threat to the mission. He stood just behind Arabella, too close for her liking, and shrugged. "No, not yet. I just got her up here."

  Arabella smiled tightly. If she stuck with the plan, this would be her last mission. The organization would give her a tidy sum that she could live a normal life off of. It was everything she wanted: to be free of the chains that bound her to this existence of lies and murder.

  "I'll give you the grand tour, then." Grayson gestured for her to follow, which she did, Henry taking up the rear.

  The house wasn't big, considering what Arabella's experience with billionaires had been. It consisted of a den, three small bedrooms (one of which was hers now), one bathroom for everybody to share, a kitchen, a playroom, and a closed-in porch that wrapped all around the house. Cute and comfortable. The fact that it was built into the trees might have something to do with its size. The only way to reach the house was to either fly in or take an elevator up the equivalent of four floors.

  The twins, Olivia and Hudson, were just waking up from their naps when Grayson showed Arabella into their bedroom. The toddler-sized beds were pressed against each other, though Olivia's featured Tinkerbell and Hudson's Lightning McQueen. The two kids looked exactly like their father with their black hair, black eyes, and natural sun-kissed glow. Their father's angular jaw and sharp cheekbones were softened in them, though, with their rolls of baby fat still clinging to them.

  Getting information on them was harder than the rest of the players. They were two years old, and that was basically all she knew.

  "Look at that," Grayson said, smiling as the twins cried out in happiness and bounced from their beds. "Just in time. Livvy, Hud, this is Arabella, your new governess."

  Governess? Arabella's brows rose. She thought she was a live-in nanny. Governess sounded so old-fashioned. Grayson caught her look and shrugged as he picked his twins up.

  "They're really into The Sound of Music right now," he explained. "Can you two say hi?"

  "Hello!" Olivia said, kicking her feet. "You gonna play wit me?"

  Hudson buried his face in his father's shoulder.

  Arabella smiled at the two of them. She had been chosen for this assignment for a few reasons, the first being her 'compassionate' attitude. In the organization, compassion meant weakness and she had been reprimanded more than once for it – just because she thought that killing people outright was better than making them suffer. It didn't matter how many times she said it was merely more efficient. She gained the reputation of being soft, and now she had to work with kids.

  She had no practical experience with children. They were so small and soft. The organization had given her training for the mission, but practical experience was far different than reading What to Expect When You're Expecting.

  "Let's go to the playroom," Grayson said.

  "Carry me!" Olivia leaned toward Arabella. She kicked Grayson in the stomach and Arabella was just able to catch the little girl as she slipped from his grasp.

  "Friendly, aren't you?" the assassin noted dryly.

  They headed for the playroom. Henry followed after them. Arabella quickly reminded herself who he was. Best friend to Grayson. They had grown up together. Henry had been Grayson's best man at his wedding and was currently suffering from the poisoning that had caused half of the Dragon Shifter clan to fall ill before Grayson moved them here.

  She eyed him. His skin had undertones that indicated he was naturally as dark as Grayson, but sickness had stolen the color from his cheeks, leaving him looking ashen. There was a faint yellowish tinge to his skin that indicated kidney failure. For a Shifter to be so heavily affected by this, he must have had massive doses of the toxins over a long period of time.

  Which, come to think of it, meant that no poison would be effective against Grayson. Another reason to stick to the plan.

  In the playroom, Olivia got to playing at once with Henry, while Hudson still clung to his father. Grayson rubbed his back soothingly as he explained the twins' schedule and all of the information she hadn't been able to find out. They were starting to breathe smoke, but no fire and no Shifting yet. Olivia was outgoing and demanding and Hudson preferred his alone time. He liked to color and draw while Olivia had a penchant for building things.

  "And you're lobbying to make mining companies adopt safer practices and the consent of local populations before they start building, right?" she asked.

  "Yes. Ever since my wife died from lead poisoning . . . " A hard look flashed over Grayson's face. "Our lives are meaningless to them. The only thing they understand is profit margins."

  Arabella tugged her long sleeves over her hands. "I think what you are doing is very admirable," she admitted truthfully. "I know what it's like . . . not to be seen as human."

  Not that she was going to let her feelings get in the way of the mission.

  Grayson smiled at her, then gently moved Hudson. "Daddy's got to go to the hospital with Uncle Henry, bud. Arabella is going to be watching you, okay?"

  Arabella felt the first clump of nerves flutter in her stomach. She had been placed with children once before. It had made her feel things that were dangerous in her line of work: real compassion and a mothering instinct that she tried very hard to deny. And those children weren't even as young as these ones.

  Thankfully, Hudson didn't cry when he was transferred to Arabella. Grayson and Henry left shortly afterward. While Olivia was still engaged in her toys, Arabella got Hudson some crayons and paper and sat between the twins, listening to Olivia chatter away while she built things with her Duplo blocks. It wasn't long after she was left alone with the children when her cell phone buzzed.

  "Hello?"

  "Hey, sis," said a familiar, overly happy voice.

  Arabella repressed the urge to roll her eyes. "Kennedy. I said I was going to call you, remember?"

  Kennedy was one of the other women who worked for the organization. In this case, she was Arabella's partner. They worked well together, or so they had been told. Arabella couldn't stand Kennedy. The other woman's impatience drove her crazy. She was always pushing Arabella's timetables to make her move faster. Kennedy had botched a job more than once. But a case like this took extreme patience.

  "Oh, are you at your new job?"

  "Yes. And I don't have time to talk right now."

  Contacting her on the phone she was using for work was dangerous enough. Arabella didn't think Kennedy was ever going to complete enough successful missions to ever be free from the organization. She wasn't going to take Arabella down with her, though.

  "So, what time do you think we can meet up?" Kennedy asked, her voice syrupy sweet. "You know, with the kids."

  "A month," Arabella said shortly. "We can talk more about it later."

  She hung up, grinding her teeth in annoyance. Why would they trust such an important mission to somebody who never even waited for her coffee to cool down before drinking it?

  Olivia eyed her with interest and plopped down in her lap, leaning her small head against Arabella's shoulder. "Who's that?"

  "It was my sister." Arabella sighed.

  It was sort of true, after all. The organization liked to make the 'recruits' call each other brother and sister like some sick cult. Wh
ich, in a way, it was. Many of those who actually did win their freedom (since their training, housing, food, and basically everything necessary for daily life was taken as a 'debt' that needed to be repaid) stayed on after they were free.

  But that wasn't what Arabella was going to do. She was going to take her money and retire somewhere in the Caribbean where she could write self-published erotica for kicks and spend her day sipping Margaritas and listening to music too loud. And, best yet, she would be able to meet a guy she wasn't trying to get information from. She could have some semblance of a normal life.

  "Hud my brudder, I his sissy," Olivia said. "Who's your sissy?"

  "Her name is Kennedy."

  Olivia laughed. "Funny name. Why's she call you?"

  "She's getting married," Arabella answered, the lie rolling smoothly off her tongue. She had learned long ago that she had to stay consistent in front of children as much as adults. They were much cleverer than people assumed. "The wedding is in a month."

  Olivia nodded. "I come too."

  Arabella fluffed the little girl's hair and ignored the cramp in her stomach. A wedding would be the perfect excuse to take the children away from their father so that they could be ransomed back to him. The trust in the toddler's eyes hurt to look at, though.

  "Maybe," Arabella murmured. "Now who wants a snack?"

  Chapter Two – Grayson

  Senator Jeremy White was useless. Not that Grayson really expected any different from the man. He was in so many pockets that it was a wonder how he had a single thought that was his own these days. The companies that donated to his campaign had gotten him here, although the legality of his actions during the election was up to debate. Still, Grayson had to explore every angle he could to force the mining companies and their subsidiaries to take responsibility for their actions.

  "I understand your concern," the thin man said, his large, soulful eyes that had won hearts through the state staring wide-eyed at Grayson. "I really do. But think about it this way. This legislation that you are proposing will cost the taxpayers millions of dollars. They don't want to have to pay for these things."

  "Are Shifter’s dollars worth less than those of non-shifters, or am I missing something?" Grayson snapped. "Are you saying that Shifter lives are less important?"

  White's face reddened. He puffed up, straining at the buttons of his too-small dress shirt. "That is uncalled for. I am not a racist man. We can't bow down to every group that comes crying to us, thinking that they're being treated unfairly. If you don't like having a mine bringing prosperity to your home, you should just leave."

  The senator sat down, nodding as though he had just said something that actually made sense. The fire inside Grayson rose with a growling sound. Both his hands clenched his chair. There was a time when he would have thought the best way to resolve things like this was to just punch his enemy until they didn't get back up. Sometimes he thought that would still be the best way to do things.

  "Just leave," he repeated dryly. "Leave the homes that we have occupied for hundreds of years. Maybe I'll just open a mine near your home and see what you say then when it's your wife dead from the toxic runoff and your best friend slowly dying from it."

  The senator sat back, snorting. Grayson could have kicked himself. This was exactly what he had been trying to avoid. Now he'd crossed the line and this 'threat' he had just made would be talked of throughout every dinner party. It was a bitter defeat, especially since he had been schooling himself all day to keep calm.

  "There have been tests done with Shifters. Your kind can heal from anything."

  "Shifters can only heal from certain things. Continually being poisoned by everything in our environment isn't one of them. You humans are so ignorant as to the basic necessities of Shifter life—" Grayson tasted smoke on his tongue and cut himself off. He took a deep breath. "The fact is that none of these things are happening in other non-shifter communities—"

  "If you're so concerned about your Shifter communities, maybe you should be spending your time and money on them rather than wasting mine." The senator stood and straightened his suit jacket. "This meeting is over. I suggest you leave before I have you escorted out."

  Grayson growled deep in his throat, but there was nothing left to be done. He marched from the senator's office, slamming the door behind him. Being involved in politics was new to him. Before Christine died, he was more than happy to let others do the fighting for him. As long as he was comfortable, that was all that mattered. The twins coming along had started to change things, and then Christine . . .

  He wanted to fly and feel the wind on his face, but Shifting was prohibited in the city. He drove his Audi back to the communal garage at the Shifter settlement, then walked through the huge trees. He had fought to stop logging companies from taking down the massive Redwoods and, afterward, he decided to pay for the whole community to move there. They built their homes in the treetops. It made things like electricity and plumbing difficult, but claiming the skies had felt natural.

  He undressed and Shifted, feeling the release of endorphins that always accompanied shedding his human form and claiming that of the Beast. Christine always loved to see him in his Dragon form. He flapped his wings, rising quickly from the ground. The rush of the wind and his fine-tuned sense of smell relaxed his tense muscles further.

  So he had one setback. Senator White was never going to be on the Shifters' side and Grayson had known it. At least now he had personally measured up the man.

  The twins were waiting for him on the porch, jumping up and down and pointing as he landed. Arabella knelt between them, an arm wrapped around their stomachs. She looked so at ease and natural with them that a little more of the weight eased from his shoulders. Over the past two days, since she had come into their lives, the twins had blossomed. He knew hiring a female nanny was the right choice. He didn't have any female friends or relatives, and he was a firm believer that all children needed some sort of influence from both men and women.

  He landed in a screened room and threw on some pants before going to greet his children. They rushed him with cries of joy and he scooped them both into the air. He nuzzled his face into their hair. They smelled like oatmeal baby body wash. They were in their pajamas, too.

  "All ready for bed?" he asked, carrying them inside.

  "They wanted to say goodnight," Arabella said. "Now that you're home, it's time to go to sleep."

  Olivia pouted but Hudson cuddled close to Grayson. "Night-night."

  Arabella took the twins. Grayson went to the kitchen, rummaging around for something to eat. Soon, Arabella joined him. She started making him a sandwich, promising it would be the best grilled cheese he would ever have.

  "So how was it?" she asked.

  Grayson shook his head. "It didn't go well. But then again, Senator Jeremy White has only ever cared about what affects him."

  "A lot of people are like that," Arabella mentioned.

  "Doesn't make it right."

  A moment of silence was broken by a sigh. "No. I don't suppose it does. What are you going to do? If the senator won't listen . . ."

  "I'm not going to give up." His shoulders sagged and Arabella put a hand on his arm. Her touch was so comforting, so soft and warm, that he found himself leaning toward her as if she could fix his problems. Clearing his throat, he stepped back. "I'm not going to give up. My money can only do so much and this is a problem that needs to be cut out at the root. I am never going to give up."

  Arabella shook her head, strangely not meeting his eye. "I wouldn't think you would. Here's your sandwich. I think I hear the children calling."

  Chapter Three – Arabella

  Arabella stuffed her phone into her pocket as she stepped into the elevator, attempting to calm herself. Her usual early-morning jog through the peaceful forest floor had been interrupted by Kennedy greeting her on the path – as if she hadn't clearly been told to stay away from the Shifter settlement until it was time to put the plan
into action. If Kennedy blew this mission . . .

  She shook her head as the elevator took her up to the treehouse. If necessary, she would inform Grayson that there was a strange woman hanging around and chase Kennedy off that way. It wasn't like she owed her 'sister' any loyalty.

  The elevator slid to a smooth stop. Arabella stepped out and pressed her thumb to the scanner to allow her entrance to the house. Security wasn't the tightest she had ever seen, but it wasn't just a trifle, either. There were cameras all along the base of the tree, in the elevator, and pointed at various places at tree-level. It wouldn’t be impossible to take the kids from their home, but it would be easier if she was able to arrange with Grayson to take them somewhere else, like the zoo or the library, and have them kidnapped from there.

  The kidnapping was what Kennedy wanted to discuss. She didn't see why Arabella couldn't just grab them and leave, but it was trickier than that. For starters, traumatizing the children was as good as signing a death warrant. If the twins were returned to their father with PTSD, he'd hunt down and kill everyone involved. And then, of course, she didn't want to be connected to the kidnapping, either. The most successful missions were when there was someone on the inside, and she intended to be that someone.

  When she green-lighted the kidnapping, she wanted to remain involved on this side, to push Grayson to do what they needed him to do and to steer the police investigation away from where it needed to be.

  A scowl crossed her face as she entered the house. She was going to have to be shot. Again. Nothing evoked a mark's sympathy more than seeing a wounded woman. It wouldn't be the first time she had been shot and with the organization's plastic surgeons the scars were easy to remove, but it was the actual getting shot that she disliked. The pain and injury, not to mention the risk of infection, put her at a disadvantage. If there was one thing she hated, it was being vulnerable.