“Doctor?” I tried to formulate my thoughts.
“Please call me Sethos like everyone else.”
“Sethos, what does this mean for me?” I’d grown up watching all of Hollywood’s recreation of the vampire myth. Some were romantic; knockouts who could seduce the coldest, making them fall to their knees, while other renditions aligned them pretty much with serial killers; enraged, violent and capable of blood lust.
“This is something we must also determine. The fire was given to Drac by the djinn, but how did it now come to you?”
“Alistair told me that I could wield the magic of others.”
“So, a wielder? Hmm, a very interesting thought, but I think you are much more, very much so. Come, follow me now to the gym. I need to see how you are with fighting.”
“I don’t fight.”
“Well, this is a great time to learn, as what you learn now will be rapidly embraced as your brain rewires itself to survive, which I hypothesize will make it easier and quicker for you to master.”
“Mastery of weapons and such?” I could only hope those couple of hours of sword handling for research might be useful.
“Yes, my dear. Think of it as the cliff notes version. With your now-perfect eyesight, ability to move with the elements, and even control fire, I do think learning how to properly swing a sword will be easy for you.” He paused, giving me time to process. “You’ve practiced a bit in the past, which will help. But you must also learn to assess your opponent. It only requires a second or two. Find his weaknesses. Where does he put his weight? Is he fast or slow? How can you defend yourself with the least amount of energy spent? You don’t have to be fancy. You just have to survive.”
Chapter 11
Leslie
Sethos was wrong. They couldn’t quite figure out all of my abilities, even after three days of testing. I laid flat on my back. My muscles still shook from the wobbling.
I think they expected me to be able to climb walls with my fingernails. The only thing I truly knew was that they were trying to starve me. I was so famished that I could drain a cow.
Eww. That sounded disgusting and yummy at the same time.
Saga came and jumped on the bed, gave a good purr and then flopped down beside me. I wondered if I could teach her to give massages. She stretched out her little arms, spread her toes, relaxed, and turned into a ball and started snoring.
I stuck out my tongue at her. That should be me.
“Knock, knock.” Gran flitted into the room with all of the excitement of a fourth grader. “What are you doing in here still sleeping? You’ll never make friends in your room. I know you didn’t go away to college, but this isn’t it.” Gran wagged her finger at me. “Alistair asked me to pass on the message that you’re late for your sparring.”
Saga tried turning into a tighter ball, but he must have heard Delphine before she could knock on my door, too. Saga perked up.
“Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to see if I might play with Saga some. She is such a cute kitty.”
Those two had taken to each other like family, and it did my heart some good. Unlike back at the apartment, Saga was on pins and needles here. Often while petting her, I felt the small shudders moving through her body. But what could I expect, living in a house filled with wolves?
“Sure, just be careful with the others. I’m not too sure how the students might respond to her.”
“I will guard her with my life, mistress.”
Right now, I didn’t want friends. I wanted food, dammit. Then it hit me: since when were they that close that Gran played messenger?
“You’ve got another chance, and here you are wasting away in this room, and might I say, it’s not the nicest room in the place. Who do you have to screw to get better?”
I looked around my room and didn’t have too many complaints. It reminded me of what I thought a dorm room might have been like at one of those expensive and swanky colleges. With its own en suite, queen-sized bed and white built-in shelves, it left enough for me to decorate if I was staying.
And looking at the kitchen sink from my apartment didn’t give me any clue on if or rather when I’d be leaving.
“Don’t you see? You have both of these handsome men after you, and you can’t play one against the other for anything.”
I shook my head. “That’s not me, Gran. I know my worth enough to know I’m not going to play second fiddle.”
“Oh, I don’t think people understand that saying at all. The fiddle is a hard instrument to learn how to play, and it takes three key things to master: a knack for music, a delight in playing, and everything requires instruction. That instrument can cause ears and fingers to bleed. But second fiddle takes all the training to play just as much as the first. The difference is, the first fiddle isn’t the one accompanying someone else’s narrative. They’re the ones leading it. In your position, Leslie, well, I don’t even think you’re playing the fiddle, more like the triangle.”
“Uh, Gran, am I supposed to take heart with that? This conversation isn’t very motivational.”
“It’s not supposed to be. I’m trying to shake some sense into you, and only my words will work since I’m still a ghost. I’d have thought being back here at the Compound would have helped me like last time. But no, I’m fluttering around here, wondering why all these damn wolves are in heat. If I never see another bottle of half-used baby oil…” She trailed off.
“So, you took a tour?”
“I gave myself one. That’s the great thing about moving through walls. So, the three-story main building houses the classrooms—including a lab with signs, sigils. The library has tons of books for your research—you could start that shifter series you were talking about, too. There’s enough history and all in this place. And I heard they go for runs in the woods to stay fit. This is a grand place. The only thing you have to do is leave your room to discover it.”
“I am doing something, see, I’m…I’m getting ready to find Alistair. He talked about some sparring.”
“Ha, you don’t lie well.” Gran puckered her lips and shook her head again, to in a snap, change from her 1920s-styled day dress to one like she was to guest star on an episode of The Great Gatsby, accessorized with white gloves and a matching cloche.
“Well, I must be on my way. I’m giving a guest lecture on making deals with the Snake Queen.”
Before I could ask a question, she zipped away. I was almost tempted enough to follow, as I wasn’t sure I knew the story about that, either. But the feisty pirate story of my Gran, Myrtle Davidson, was one that everyone needed to know about.
Hiding away was my new goal. My head pounded, and something mixed with the thudding music blaring from below.
I’d locked myself away to try and acclimate to life at the compound. Not to sound ungrateful, but there was nothing like staying at someone else’s place. And, I wasn’t in college anymore. The idea of partying until six in the morning just wasn’t my cup of Joe or Alistair’s Earl Grey.
Even if I was nocturnal, the constant hewing and hawing—oh, my gosh. It was a frat house on hormones.
With the wolves, this was different. Everything was sexy, sex-filled, horn-doggy. You name it. It gave a different impression of what it meant to be dogging around.
And the women and men gallivanting into the compound sort of beat the reason for any security. It was like they’d placed an ad for an orgy on social media, and every Dick, Kitty, and Johnson in town came. But I wanted to be back in my cramped New York apartment rather than continue to be here in the Order’s compound. Although situated outside of the city, I had to say the partying never stopped. It was like living in a frat house.
Forget the red cups with beer pong. Heck, even forget the silly-string fights. Here, the only thing missing were Greek letters. They all had issues, and downstairs, the music boomed like it was a Friday night. It was a Tuesday, and the boom room—the heart of the party, overflowed with people. Even now, the scent of cannabis
and alcohol wafted upward.
It was like I was wasted or getting a secondary buzz, and I was trapped upstairs in my chambers. A loud knock on my door interrupted my thinking of murder.
“Coming.” I turned the knob, and Claudine stood there rolling her eyes, annoyed. “When I agreed to come out here, I didn’t know I’d have to relive my college years. I mean, I was often DTF, but these wolves, as you call them, hell, I can’t keep up with them.” We’d spent a lot of time together, and I could tell this was weighing on her.
She walked in and her mouth dropped open.
“Oh, hell. It’s the kitchen sink,” Gran suddenly appeared in a cloud of smoke, and turned to me. “Maybe Claudine wasn’t skipped with the sight.”
“Shut it, old woman,” Claudine snapped, and fluffed her hair.
For someone who’d never believed in the supernatural, she was getting tossed right into the heart of it.
It was eight at night, and I was just rising. The blinds allowed the moonlight to filter in, the cloudless sky called me to go outside and explore.
Since Drac’s bite, the wound had healed, my skin had returned to its nice smoothness, and I think I found some sexiness, meaning I’d found a way to feel sexy, and super attractive, all while wearing yoga pants.
My hair actually got that bounce the condition commercials advertised.
Gran snuck out, leaving Claudine and me alone.
“Every time I come in here, you start looking better. Death looks good on you.” Claudine pushed passed me, carrying a bottle of vodka. I frowned, and she pushed the bottle my way. Usually, I wasn’t one to drink libations, but the pounding in my head had me seeing crimson—all these humans here, and no fish for me to devour. The past couple of days, staying here had started a thirst I wasn’t quite able to quench.
“You know, I was ruminating about all of this, and your sire’s put you in the friend zone.”
I stretched, feeling my muscles warming up like I was a cat ready to play some kitten games. No wonder I was starting to yearn for some good leather.
“Fated friend zone?” I turned in the mirror to look at my ass.
Okay, I’d never been one who focused on her bum. But let’s be honest. The office spread was real, and days spent at the keyboard had made my plump rump need that butt-lifting shapewear. I’d once thought of being a plastic surgery tourist, but that all changed once I learned about the cement that some were using as filler. When I said I wanted a butt as hard as a rock, I didn’t mean for it to become one.
“Well, I don’t understand why he hasn’t even tried anything since we’ve been here. These walls are thin, and he’s only talking about vampire and dragon history. I think you need to look deep inside and figure out what you want. Eternity with no sex sounds like hell.”
“I’m guessing you came here to give me some tips?”
Had my feet slimmed down, too? This new me had me pushed up on confidence like a “Girl’s Night Out” might do. It was like Drac’s venom had taken all of those insecurities and told them to fuck off. Staring at my reflection, which I guessed I had since mirrors were no longer made with a silver backing, I twirled to catch another glance of little ole me.
“Can you stop staring at yourself in the mirror? What did Drac do to you? Make you fall in love with yourself?”
“Ha, that was the best one yet, and I think he truly did. Did you know he said I might one day be able to shapeshift, too? So, no more killing spiders.”
“I wouldn’t count on it.” Claudine exhaled loudly. “Please have a seat. I came here to tell you what I learned while with Poseidon. I happened to remember something.”
I slowly sat down on one of the two overstuffed chairs. Claudine hadn’t uttered a word about her time down under the sea, but then again, since her return, her eyes had dimmed a bit, her smile not as vivacious.
“Everything that we want is only a bit of energy away.” I tried to get her to focus.
“Woah, I’ve done this before. I’m not conjuring anything to get what I want. None of that burning sage bullshit.” Claudine might not remember because of the enchantment. Hell, I could only recall bits and pieces of it. “There’s a darkness in me now, Leslie. A reckoning is coming, and I don’t know if I can stop it.”
“And you feel a threat from him?”
“No, not from him, but that event was like a catalyst for another. Poseidon doesn’t just let people return, Leslie.” She barely whispered those words, when I saw Claudine raise a blade to her throat. Her eyes welled. “There’s something worse coming, and I fear that this time we’re all in trouble.”
I raced to her side, taking her hand. Even with my strength, I had to pry the knife from her grasp.
“There’s a voice that summons me, and I want to go. Darkness that beckons me to their side.”
“I think you’re getting too caught up in your feelings and life here. I know this isn’t a normal situation, but I need to keep you and Gran safe, and that means here at the compound. Isn’t there something you can do here, too?”
“This is a freaking school of magic, Les. You can call it an internship with room and board; you can dress it up to be something it isn’t. But you’re officially in a world that I can’t follow you into.”
“I need my sister here with me, safe.” I took her hands and squeezed them.
“Don’t you see? I can’t sleep, I don’t know who’s a friend or foe. I’m just a weak-ass human playing in this sandbox, and I don’t even know the rules. I’m going to go back to my place, and figure things out. You can even put a tail on me if you want, security to make sure I’m fine, but I can’t stay here. This world isn’t for me.” She rose from the bed and headed toward the door.
“Claudine,” I called after her. “Please stay. I can’t do this without you.” It was the truth. This shift from my comfortable apartment in Manhattan to a foreign compound run by wolves would take some getting used to. I’d made neither friend nor foe—I refused to leave my room unless Alistair dragged me to the training room. I didn’t even know what I was anymore. Everything was topsy-turvy.
The only constant was Claudine. Even Gran was having a hard time here.
She turned back to me with a smile. “Then, if we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.”
I hooked my arm through hers, and together, we headed downstairs.
Bounding down the steps into what neither of us expected, was to find the living room in the middle of a melee.
Chapter 12
Alistair
The late afternoon meeting wasn’t in the usual Charming Tower in New York. Instead, Alistair met with Beau, Killian, and Drac, who couldn’t stop yawning. He’d awakened from his daytime slumber not too long ago.
The silence blared, and the outside security system’s camera panned the grounds. “What do you see, Killian?”
Killian stood broad-legged, arms crossed. “These fuckers are playing with us, sir. Trying to draw us out. If they can’t attack us here, there is only one place left for them to go.”
“A place that isn’t like an iron fortress,” Rose chimed in.
“Beau’s club.”
That was where most of the pack would hang out to let go of some steam, but also a great place to pick off one wolf at a time.
“It shouldn’t be that dangerous. Grab the girls, and we’ll take them with us. Leslie needs to keep up her training, and Claudine needs to stay grounded with one foot in this world.”
“Sir.” Rose was all business, and he liked that she’d drawn this boundary. One of which they both needed to be reminded. “Don’t you think there will be collateral damage and a huge risk? If the enemy is expecting us to show up, and we come with them, then we could put the entire mission at risk.”
“Rose, if we take them into the Wolf’s Den, it looks like we expect nothing, and know even less.”
“So, you both want to use the women as shields?”
“No,” Alistair answered. “They’re diversions. Does
this not sit right with you, Beau?”
Beau tapped his fingers on the glass table, and then ran his fingers through his thick black hair, loosening his tie. “The city is giving me pushback on cleaning up the mess from Leslie’s apartment.”
“What does that mean for the Order?”
“We’re remaining hidden in plain sight, like always, and the unit has reported back that those present at the party were looped, wiped clean, and those who saw anything on the street have also been rounded up and corrected.”
Alistair nodded. He’d been so tied up in getting things done and Order business, including taming the ruffled feathers of Zola, and finding a solution for her broken Great Staff.
“How are our guests adjusting?” he asked. Of course, Freyja, his grandmother, wasn’t too happy about his not returning to Scotland right away. Maybe there was the thought that as long as Leslie had her home to return to, that she might never allow Scotland, the land of Loch Ness, to be their home. He also knew that he wouldn’t be able to stay away from the castle indefinitely. Peter, now in charge, was dealing with the vampire threat as well as anyone could. But if he didn’t return soon, that threat might become even more exacerbated. He’d give it another three days, then back to Scotland he’d go, with or without Leslie and her family.
“They’re taking baby steps,” Killian said. “I’m hoping that including them in this ecosystem will make it easier for them to adjust. Gran has adjusted with telling stories of her past, and Claudine is on the fence. But, I worry about Leslie.”
It would take time to ease Leslie into this lifestyle full time. But then again, she’d not quite been herself since Drac’s bite.
“Aye,” Drac agreed. “She’s hiding.”
“Hiding?” Alistair asked. “What exactly did you find out from your nip at her neck?” Alistair pulled back the spike of anger that rushed him. They were working on the same side, to help the promised Wielder to come into the fold and find her magic.
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