“Yes, except for coming out to have you yell at her about some pivoting with a sword, she stays in her room.”
“And what about the venom in her? We have to watch for symptoms of the madness.”
“The doctor will need to take another look at her to ensure she’s okay.” Alistair picked up his glass of water and took a long gulp. “But I fear that what we did, didn’t quite alleviate the issues.”
“Sethos told you what might happen, and he was correct. You can’t expect the same Leslie as the one before the attack.”
“I shall summon him to appear today to take another look at her.”
“Yes, as I worry that without treatment, we shall have a problem on our hands, a ticking time bomb?”
“Gentlemen, with the issue out of the way, we have another matter at hand. We have a serious issue.” Beau paced before him. “Those in my care are important to their families, their packs. And one of our own has gone missing.”
“Missing?” Alistair turned his attention to Beau.
Alistair couldn’t concentrate with all of the noise coming from the Common area directly under his temporary office. When he’d told Beau that he’d work from the compound to get Leslie settled, he’d thought it could work.
Chapter 13
Leslie
A loud whistle went up, stopping the wolves snarling at everyone.
Claudine and I stood to the side; my mouth hung open, and I stared at the wolves tearing pillows apart. A couple gnawed on some of the wooden furniture, and two of the larger ones stood in the middle of the floor, growling at each other.
One wolf protected Saga, and the other wolf tried to attack. The protector was Delphine; even as a sandy-brown wolf, just like her hair color, her eyes remained the same.
Everything was fine until I heard Saga growl.
Something in me flipped. Saga wasn’t only trying to be protected, but now she was injured.
Blood.
The velvety aroma of freshly shed blood slapped me, and my vision blurred. Then, everything I saw was suddenly painted red. Someone had hurt what was mine!
Releasing Claudine’s arm, I leaped over the curved banister, down to the brawl, and raced into the fray. My canines descended, unprompted, uncontrolled. With inhuman strength, I struck out, yanking the wolves apart by the scruff, and taking the aggressor, holding him tightly.
Everything stopped. The wolf in my hand dangled and whimpered. Its fear beckoned me, dared me to taste. Blood, blood that could warm me from within. To nourish me, and with it came some of the potential magic.
It had crossed the line. No one dared touch what belonged under my protection.
I licked my lips, ready to teach it a lesson.
The wolves around me took a step back, including Delphine, who’d shifted into her human form, now comforting and protecting Saga in her hands.
“No, Leslie. Saga will be fine. Don’t hurt my brother,” Delphine pleaded. The words made no difference. He’d done the unthinkable, trespassing against my rules.
The roar in my throat built up like a blast of fire, and just as I was about to lean in and take a sip, I felt Alistair nearby and heard his command. “Come. Put the pup down, Leslie.” It was Alistair, descending the wide staircase, and he looked completely pissed off.
I sort of liked it. At least I’d gotten a rise from him, and then, of course, I noticed the way that the artery on the side of his neck throbbed.
“You’ve discovered many new talents, but tasting of the students here is forbidden. We do not eat our classmates.”
Words were trapped behind my teeth. I didn’t want their uselessness. Words could paint things pretty, but they didn’t fill this need clawing within.
I glanced at my hands and watched my nails extend. Where my chipped manicure had been were now replaced with sharp points. Without truly thinking it through, I raced to attack him.
With one large push from Alistair, I crashed through the large coffee table.
“I said, no, Leslie.”
My ears only heard my need, and the voice in my head pushed me to continue. I wanted—no, I needed blood like I needed air. Magical blood would be like chocolate on my tongue, the silkiest of steaks. It would ease the gnawing pain that echoed from where the pain in my stomach still bloomed.
Alistair jumped down to the open living room; the wolves—back in their human form—had moved to the side, watching.
We circled each other. I watched him move left, waiting for me to strike.
“Ooh, Alistair,” Gran called. “You be careful with my granddaughter now. She was a cheerleader back in high school and—”
If someone had told me that today would be the day I’d try to have a fistfight against Alistair, I would have bet the lion’s share of my bank account’s holdings that this was a lie. That it couldn’t be possible.
But in this haze, which was all instinct, I had neither control of my body, my vision, or even my abilities, and I couldn’t even panic. Something had pushed me to the far recesses of my mind, like I watched everything before me in a movie theater, seated on the front row.
My body was all reactive: I smelled his intentions, and like a puppet on a string, my instinct tugged me away from his strike. I felt my body shift through time like I was on fast-forward, as the rest of the room stood still.
“Are we sparring now, sire?”
I watched Alistair remove the sword from the wall. “If this is what we need to do now.”
He flexed and lunged forward, striking the massive sword downward. Its silver blade caught the overhead light. I sprang back out of his reach, landing on my feet as if I had some feline in me.
Then, the scent of a heady-pine-doused magic rose in the room, and the furniture levitated. Staring me straight in the eyes, he tossed those massive pieces at me.
Could Alistair summon magic?
My hands rose, quickly drawing a sigil I had no idea I even knew, and unclasping my hands, the heap of furniture coming my way parted, to only crash behind me.
All the magic he used, somehow or another, I could tap into it. I considered this, but so far, I’d been on the defensive, and he was the aggressor of this skirmish.
Again, with superspeed, I zipped toward him, but just when I thought I’d come close enough, he grabbed me, pinning me down on the floor. My chest heaved, and I noticed every inch of him as he rested partially on top of me. I licked my lips, urging him to do it right there in front of everyone.
“Kiss me, Alistair,” I whispered in our brain wave communication but received no response in return.
“There is still much for you to learn, yearling. The biggest mistake is to be prideful, for that is when you shall make a mistake.”
He whispered something low, and just when I thought he’d kiss me into submission, he whispered words I couldn’t quite catch, and I slumped like a ragdoll.
Chapter 14
Alistair
The pups around him whooped and hollered, yelping in support. Their dragon master had defeated the challenger. “Let this be a lesson, students,” Drac said. “We must always train and never be prideful in our assault. You are now all kindly dismissed back to your pre-scuffle activities.
If Alistair hadn’t watched Leslie fighting with him, felt her magical pull on him, he never would have believed it. She didn’t fight as one just turned. Her use of magic was practically unheard of. She’d sparked her magic without being in mortal danger, as surely, he posed no real threat. But it was also how she fought: fearless and feral.
“She would have bitten the wolf had you not intervened, Alistair.” Beau approached him, concerned. “We’re in a small area. I’m unsure if this is the right place for her to be.”
“I agree,” Drac said. “But it is the only place possible for right now. Once she has reined in the feral nature, we must take precautions that she is not in the blood rage that would force her to the other side.”
“You speak as if you have a solution.”
�
��Yes, I do. Allow Rose, your third, to provide Leslie with a tonic to subdue the rage, as it is something all vampires must go through and learn to control. And secondly, I will procure the needed nourishment for her. A diet based on fish blood will no longer do. Some humans contribute nicely to the blood bank and its suppliers.”
The great thing about Beau’s company was that it was Order friendly and offered things members of the Order couldn’t quite get anywhere else. Charming Industries had major hubs located world-wide and branches available in some of the smaller destinations.
It wasn’t the best plan, but it was the only plan he had. Leslie’s skill set, if left to chance, might become more of a hindrance than a blessing at this point.
“Aye, Rose, I want you to monitor Leslie,” he ordered.
“But sir, surely there are enough hands here to ensure that she remains friendly. There is a real crisis going on with the wolves, and the other supernatural being missing opposed to my playing babysitter to one who’d rather not be here.”
It wasn’t like Rose to be contrary in public. Sure, she’d been difficult behind closed doors, and maybe it wasn’t the best solution to put the two women together.
“Alistair, yoo-hoo.” He turned to see Claudine. “You see, I have a big problem with your plan.”
“Claudine, we don’t have time for this. Who knows how long Leslie will stay out?”
“That’s a huge problem for me. It would help if you were more than aware of what the effects of the drugs will be on her, as well as what we can do to keep her safe. Your woman here doesn’t need to be watching my sister. None of you do, considering you don’t know the first thing about her.”
“But we know magic, dear.” Rose had a smile on her face when she spoke. “You’re just a simpleton.”
Claudine reached up to take off her earrings and stuffed them in her pocket. “What did you call me?”
“I said, you’re a simpleton, a dimwit, a rather bore and—”
Alistair wasn’t one to condone violence and was sort of amazed that Rose didn’t see the throat punch coming until Claudine’s fist made contact. Rose gagged and held her throat.
“Don’t disrespect my sister again.” If Saga hadn’t chosen a side in all of this, the instigating rascal had now. She’d pulled the pin and started the longtime-brewing war.
As Claudine said those words, Alistair saw a spark and shimmer around her.
“You’re right, Claudine. If anyone should watch Leslie, why not have it be you?”
Chapter 15
Leslie
I woke up feeling completely witchy!
No, not like a nice witch, but more like I wanted to find the nearest coven and dance around a fire, maybe even sacrifice a dragon or two. I cut my gaze to the large dragon-shifter huffing and puffing, who, fully dressed and with not a naughty thought in his brain, paced at the foot of my bed.
First thing this morning, I’d been poked by a doctor, ordered to drink some tonic to keep my four humors aligned, and now Alistair wasn’t letting me out of his sight, and now that included his helping me with laundry.
He hadn’t said a word about our drill. I’d not mentioned that I hadn’t been in control, either.
Control was something I’d have to learn.
So, my reward seemed to be silence as he brooded.
He was working my last nerve. How did my life go from semi-successful romance author to jumping off walls to swing swords? The next thing I knew, he and his cronies were going to anoint me to be the new Van Helsing.
Like I’d even qualify.
He hadn’t said it, but it was coming.
“We’ve wasted enough time here. You need to finish packing if we’re going to Scotland,” he said, again, “like Freyja commanded.”
He wanted me to be tenacious, and I just wanted to go back to bed. Yep, I was on supernatural overload and sort of wished that I could be as oblivious to it all as my sister, Claudine, who was chatting up Killian in the living room. She’d spent hours as Poseidon’s captive and came back to land pretty much saying, “nope.” She buried those memories so deep that the only thing she’d admitted to doing was contacting our brother to see if she could get a job at his law firm down in Richmond. Of course, she said this without my asking, with the excuse of “I just need to get away.”
Girl, don’t we all?
I cut my gaze back to my sire. As a vampire, his vampire, there wasn’t much I could do to not listen to his orders. He’d find me. We were linked like an odd pair of socks. Fated to be together as mates, and to make things worse, I seemed to be like the unicorn of the magic world—powerful, capable even. But I didn’t know shit.
It took witches, mages, wizards, and all of those from the epic fantasy world of elves, drakes, and gnomes, years to master what I supposedly absorbed and worked by instinct, as well as my ghostly Gran’s directions. No, some spirit didn’t come to possess me, but I sure did move in this new world like I knew what the bleep I was doing.
How could I forget what the great goddess had ordered? I was supposed to give up everything for some divine commission?
As if on cue, my newly adopted black cat came and wound her way between my legs, rubbing her black fur on my white pants.
The walls were closing in on me in my dorm room. I missed my norm. In comparison, my Manhattan apartment felt airy, but it was different sharing the space with the brawny dragon-shifter, who was absolutely massive, taking up so much space. I kept nonchalantly catching a glimpse of him as he uncrossed his arms, pulled out the wheeled office chair, and took a seat. I wasn’t sure if it was his lack of patience that made him feel larger than life or if the room had shrunk.
The air prickled, and I waited for him to go off and explode.
Then again, I wasn’t sure if it had more to do with just how close we were.
He’d asked to speak with me in private, leaving Gran off to converse with anyone willing to hear of her pirate tales, while Claudine and Killian got friendly. I might have been worried for Killian, but to be honest, Claudine would break him in two. She’d find love on her own, and he wouldn’t have to be a supernatural, too.
Have you ever walked into a room and thought: well, if I’d known I was going to have company, I might have tidied up some? Sort of like the underwear surprise: if I knew someone might see them, I might ensure that they matched, and were all lacey and frilly instead of more drug store, granny-grade.
No, there was nothing wrong with comfortable granny panties. But there was also nothing sexy about them, either.
I stood across from Alistair, folding the bath towels that refused to fold themselves (I kept hoping these new vampire powers could make inanimate objects obey my thoughts. So far, no good).
“I can’t let you stay here,” Alistair finally said.
He shook out a sweater and attempted to fold it into a neat square. It wasn’t my sweater, and I didn’t even know where he’d found it. I stood on my tippy toes to try and look around his broad shoulders, but to no avail. The shaggy sweater of multiple shades of olive, lime, and forest greens with a glittery white edging reminded me of something I might have tried to re-gift. It was past gaudy. Was it something mixed in from the laundry room in the basement? Oops, someone was missing their sweater for the ugly sweater contest—a guaranteed winner.
“Where did you get that, and why are you trying to help me pack?” The idea of having Alistair rub his fingers on my intimate items freaked me the ham sandwich out. I mean, he was already in my bedroom, there was a bed that hadn’t seen any action in years, and here he was attempting to fold laundry that didn’t even belong to me.
There were a few secrets that men didn’t need to know about: that not all bra and panties came in sets, that there were certain intimate apparel for certain times of the month—and fun fact, the hell of the menstrual cycle didn’t end with the change to vampirism. What that meant for reproduction scared me even more.
Questions raced through my mind: Did birth control wo
rk? Would I give birth to a vampire baby? Would the baby stay a baby? Oh, my gosh. I was living in hell.
I felt waves of his panic douse me in arctic chills like I’d been dunked afresh in the North Sea. I shivered.
Did I mention that we’d not even kissed yet?
Why was I walking this invisible line, worried about lace and leather, push-up bras, and corsets when he was too frazzled about an ugly sweater?
Relationships sucked like pickled pigs' feet. Fated mates, sure. Did that even mean anything? I had no freaking clue.
Unless he started playing a song to let me know where we were in this movie, I was going to remain lost and trying to read the nonverbal communications of a dragon-shifter who seemed ready to torch the sweater that refused to be perfectly folded.
He must have felt my gaze on him. He dropped the sweater into a heap back onto my bed.
The old me might have been concerned by his statement, but considering I’d had my share of bad supernatural encounters, it made sense that Alistair was now to be overly protective.
“It’s just a picnic nearby.” Gran entered the room, disobeying Alistair’s request for privacy with me. She floated by, plucked up a checkered tablecloth I’d not seen, tossing it into her ghostly picnic basket. “It’s just a simple picnic with the family.”
My cousin Trina was already getting T-Shirts printed up, and Gran was talking about Claudine making the family’s secret potato salad and sweet potato pie recipes like it was a Southern Thanksgiving instead of a barbeque.
Two things were sacrilegious in my household: using a sweet mayonnaise and choosing pumpkin pie over sweet potato. That gourd only belonged one place—outside on the porch creating a jack-o-lantern.
If I leaned in, I could hear the blender churning in the kitchen as Claudine prepared my requested salmon smoothie, and Killian had been nice enough to bring a fresh catch.
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