To Kill A Warlock

by H. P. Mallory

  I followed Trey and Sam into the conference room where I was ushered to a seat at the end of the conference table. Trey tried to take the seat and Elsie shooed him out of it, beaming at me instead.

  I wasn’t a hero and I didn’t want to be treated like one.

  Nonetheless, I took the seat with a lukewarm smile as if to say “thanks” and turned to the sound of the door opening. Knight strolled in, dressed in black, as beautiful as he ever was. Goddamn, the man was sexy as sin!

  Then I noticed the smaller man next to him—maybe five feet eight inches, fifty years old or close to it, receding hairline, and thick glasses. So, this was the Chief of the Relations Office, come from the Netherworld? Rhetorical question.

  Knight eyed me and gave me a grin; I was embarrassed and looked away. I didn't want anyone to think I was getting preferential treatment. I was just another Regulator and that was that. Knight took the seat next to me and the Chief assumed the seat at the head of the table. Elsie fluttered about offering coffee.

  “Well, let's get started,” the Chief said. “For those of you who haven't met me,” none of us had, “I'm Chief Sterno and I run the relations office in Hildoff, Netherworld. It's my pleasure to be here today to meet all of you.”

  He glanced at every one of us while we murmured our “happy to see you toos” and I felt like it was my first day at school.

  “I'm sure you've heard of the unfortunate situation involving the previous Chief of Headquarters so I won't get into that,” Sterno continued. “I do want you to know we are doing our best to find a replacement.”

  There were a round of nods and sighs.

  “In the meantime, Knightley Vander will be substituting, just until we find a permanent replacement,” the Chief finished.

  “Please call me Knight,” the Loki clarified.

  I glanced around and noticed all the females openly admiring him. Ugh.

  “Knightley?” Trey whispered, elbowing me in the ribs.

  “Watch it,” I grumbled, wondering if my poor side would ever heal.

  “His name isn't Todd?”

  “No,” I whispered back, frowning. I hadn't wanted to lie to Trey and hopefully he wouldn't take our mis-truth as a slight. “We didn't want to put you in harm's way so we had to withhold his true identity.”

  “He really wasn't your friend at all?” His expression was crestfallen.

  “No, he forced me to secrecy, Trey.” When all else fails, blame someone else.

  Trey just nodded. Meanwhile, the fact that Knight was going to be my boss, if only temporarily, was starting to sink in. I couldn't say I liked it. In fact, I didn't like it at all. I'd gotten a taste of Knight's mode of leadership, and it wasn't one I wished to repeat.

  “So, please welcome Knight,” the Chief finished.

  Everyone clapped.

  Knight smiled and raised his hands as if to quiet the room. “I'm Knight, as the Chief said and it's great to meet all of you.”

  A few sighs from the ladies in the room. I just shook my head.

  “Today is not only about introductions, though,” Knight continued. “I also have a bit of good news.” He paused and glancing at me, pasted a huge grin on his face.

  “I'm not sure if you are all aware, but Dulcie O'Neil worked with me on this case.” There were a round of oohs and aahs. I didn't like the direction of the conversation but there wasn't a damned thing I could do about it.

  “And because of her courage, we were both able to escape. I just wanted to announce that I'm promoting Dulcie O’Neil to the position of Head Regulator.”

  Another round of claps, and I felt as if I’d been slapped. Surprise overtook me, and when I met Knight's grin, I resisted the urge to walk out. No one in the room should've been congratulating me. I didn't deserve a promotion. As far as I was concerned, I'd failed miserably.

  “Thank you,” I said in a small voice, trying to pretend that nothing was the matter, that I was as thrilled as everyone else. It was a hard order and I'm not sure I succeeded.

  Sam hugged me, and Trey looked like he was biting back tears. Holy Hades.

  After the meeting disbanded, and I'd had about all the pats on the back I could take, I followed Knight into Quillan's old office. Quillan's name plate still hung on the door, and I had to drop my eyes. It made me feel oddly sad.

  Knight took a seat in the large, brown leather chair and cracked his knuckles. “How’s your side?”

  “It’s fine.”

  He nodded. “Dulce, what can I do for you?”

  I didn't know how to say it, so I just reached inside my pocket and handed him the envelope.

  He took it with a smile but the smile soon disappeared as soon as he started reading. “What is this?” he demanded and dropped the letter onto the desk as if it had just bitten him.

  I sighed. “My letter of resignation.”

  TWENTY ONE

  “Resignation?” Knight repeated, his eyes fixed on the surface of his desk... Quillan's desk.

  “You shouldn't have promoted me,” I said and collapsed into the large leather chair across from Knight's. Eyeing Quillan's office fern, I rubbed the fronds between my fingers as a wave of sadness coursed over me.

  Knight chuckled. “Usually people are thrilled to get promoted.” He leaned forward, propping his chin on his fist. “You deserved it and more.”

  I shook my head and sighed. I'd have to tell him sooner or later. “Quillan didn't escape.”

  Knight's eyebrows furrowed, and his mouth twitched as his eyes searched mine like a hawk's. This wasn't going to be fun.

  “Go on.”

  I inhaled. “I let him go.”

  Knight reclined in the leather chair again, and bobbed back and forth, the chair groaning in protest underneath him. Surprisingly, He didn't look angry—he didn't look anything at all, really. “As far as I see it, you didn't have a choice. It was him or me.”

  I nodded—that was fair enough.

  “And you chose me.” He stopped rocking. “And I will forever be grateful to you. Although I’m aware you don't want to hear it, Dulcie, you were a hero that night.”

  “You don’t understand, Knight.” I paused, fumbling to find the right words, trying to justify my own cowardice. “I just....just couldn't shoot him.”

  Knight shrugged. “No one blames you for that.” He paused, distractedly picking up a pen and started doodling on Quillan's desk calendar.

  “You should blame me for that,” I said.

  “Quillan must've known you wouldn't shoot him, or he wouldn't have left it as your only option.”

  Okay, he had another point there. I stood up and started pacing the room, hating the fact that the air still smelled of Quillan's aftershave, that everything in this office reminded me of Quillan and made me miss him. I stopped pacing to find Knight smiling with amusement.

  “Either way, Knight, I don't deserve the promotion. I failed in my duties and...I'm sorry but I'm resigning my post.” I crossed my arms against my chest.

  Knight stood up, his intimate gaze never breaking from mine, and approached me. I backed away.

  “I won't let you quit.”

  I laughed involuntarily. “You don't have a choice.”

  I dropped myself back into the visitor's chair, and he braced himself against the edge of Quillan's desk, still fidgeting with the pen. “You're the best person on my team. I can't afford to lose you.”

  “I'm sorry, but...” I shook my head. “I’ve made up my mind.”

  He ran an agitated hand through his hair and dropped the pen against the desk. “What are you going to do for work then?”

  I hadn't thought that far ahead. “I don't know.”

  He arched a brow. “Not a very good plan, Dulce.”

  I sighed, annoyed with myself. “I guess I could go back to waiting tables for a while—just until I find something better.”

  He nodded, but the concerned lines in his forehead said he was anything but optimistic. “And what would that something better
be?” he asked.

  I just shrugged.

  “You belong in law enforcement, Dulce, it's in your blood. I've seen you out there and you love it...just as much as I do. You’ll never be happy doing anything else.”

  Okay, it’s super annoying when someone claims to know you better than you know yourself. Although I had enjoyed my job, there were a myriad of other things I liked better—writing being the first and foremost. But, I didn’t want to admit that to him.

  “Well, I won't be happy here either. Maybe I'll move from Splendor and live somewhere else.”

  “Don’t you realize you can't run away from things? No matter where you go, they'll eventually find you until you confront them.”

  My hands started to contract into fists. Since when had Knight become Dr. Phil? “Are you done? I want to go now.”

  Knight was quiet for a few moments, and his silence unsettled me more than his cockiness. Finally, he sighed and stood up, gazing out the window that overlooked Splendor Park. “I can't change your mind?”

  “No.”

  He turned to face me again, his hands seeking solace in his pockets. “Then, I want you to work as a consultant.”

  “What?”

  “When I need you for a particularly difficult case, I want to be able to call on you. You won't have to come to the office but you'll be on call should I need you.”

  I started to adamantly shake my head.

  “Please, Dulce, just until I can find your replacement. If you don't want to do it for me, do it for the team.”

  I bit my lip. Do if for the team; what a great line. Damn him. “You're a real bastard, you know?”

  He smiled. “It's gotten me this far.”

  I gulped down my protest and laughed, but it was a courtesy laugh. I should've known Knight would force the issue. “Okay, okay. Can I go now?”

  “Not just yet.” He was silent as a smirk curled his lips. “One more thing...”

  I frowned. “What?”

  His eyes searched the ceiling as the smile on his lips broadened. “Now that we aren't officially working together and you’re no longer my subordinate...”

  As if I ever was his subordinate! Holy Hades, the man was narcissistic.

  “Yes, what?” I impatiently demanded.

  “I want to ask you out to dinner.”

  My mouth gaped in astonishment. “Like a date?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, a date. I imagine I wasn’t the only one of us to feel…a connection?”

  A connection wasn’t exactly what I’d call it. And that reminded me...a moment I'd been looking forward to had arrived at last. The wheels of my brain began spinning with delight. “That's right, I haven't made true on my promise to torture you yet, have I?”

  “Torture me?” he chuckled.

  “Hmm,” I tapped my chin, wondering where to start. “Yeah, don’t you remember your little reaction to the creature juice?'”

  He studied me with a bewildered expression. “What are you talking about?”

  “Ah, of course you don't remember. How convenient. You turned into quite the horn dog after Sam made us swallow that potion.”

  Knight dropped his stare, but a smile crested over his lips. Oh, he remembered all right. “Yeah, um, about that...”

  “‘Chains and blindfolds’ is a direct quote,” I continued, savoring this as much as I promised myself I would.

  “Let me make it up to you,” he said, his eyes begging me to stop.

  I stood up. Even though Knight was gorgeous, he was one cocky bastard. “Thanks for the invitation, but I'm going to pass.”

  He couldn't keep the surprise from registering on his face. So, Knight wasn't used to rejection? Even better then that he should get it from me.

  I started for the door, valuing the expression on his face as priceless. I paused with my hand on the doorknob and turned to face him for the last time. “Give me a call when you get a tough case.”

  Then I opened the door and walked out.

  ###

  One month later, I'd finished my Bram book. Now it was time to try and recruit an agent. If I said I wasn't excited about going through the process again, it would be an understatement. But, unfortunately, I had to do what I had to do.

  After finishing my query letter and a five-page synopsis, I compiled the list of agent names and email addresses and began the task of emailing my queries. After an hour, I'd managed to get through the entire list and sat back in my chair, heaving an exhausted sigh.

  I was proud of this book—I'd put a lot of time and effort into it. And Bram...well, without him, I wouldn't have had a book at all. Thinking I should probably let him know I'd finished it and was now trying to find an agent to represent it, I called No Regrets.

  Angela answered the phone and was quick to connect me with Bram.

  “Sweet,” he said, with genuine surprise.

  “Hi, Bram, I wanted to let you know I finished the book.”

  “Ah, did you? That is very good news. What is next?”

  “Well, I'm trying to get an agent to represent it and if I find one, he or she will pitch it to the publishing houses.”

  “I wish you much luck, Sweet.” He paused. “Regarding that favor you owe me...”

  I knew that favor would yield its ugly head sooner or later. “Yes?”

  “I would like to escort you to dinner tomorrow evening, if that suits you.”

  “You want to take me on a date?” I laughed. “Really, Bram, I would've thought owing you a favor would turn out to be a much bigger pain in my ass than that!”

  Bram chuckled. “Well, I am flattered to think you regard a date with me as not a...pain in your posterior. Are you free tomorrow evening?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I shall pick you up at nine p.m. Please dress with elegance.”

  “Okay, Bram, I'll see you tomorrow.”

  He hung up and it suddenly dawned on me that Sam might not find this arrangement especially pleasing. Ugh, I hadn't even considered her feelings before I'd agreed. Dammit. I dialed her number.

  “Hello?”

  “Sam, it's Dulcie.”

  “Hey, girl, what's going on?”

  I gulped down my guilt. “Nothing. I just got off the phone with Bram, and he invited me to dinner to celebrate my finishing the book.” I paused. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay with it? If not, I won’t go.”

  She was quiet for a few seconds. “Yeah, I'm fine. I always knew he had the hots for you anyway...”

  “No, it's not like that, Sam.”

  She laughed. “Whatever you're convincing yourself, it is like that and no, I'm not bothered by it at all. I'm over Bram.” She paused. “Actually, I’m thrilled to hear you’ll be going on a date. This will be your first in what?”

  “A year,” I grumbled.

  “Wow. Yes, go and enjoy yourself! And don’t worry about me.”

  I sighed in relief. “Okay, thanks. How are things with you?”

  “Good, everything at work is good.” She started to laugh. “All the women are in love with Knight.”

  I smiled, figuring such would be the case. I was sure Knight was in hog heaven, the bastard. “Well, I'm glad to hear everything is fine with you.”

  “Yeah, it is.” She paused. “I miss Quill.”

  Quill.

  Just the mention of his name caused an indescribable sorrow that I felt deep in my gut. “I do too.”

  ###

  For my evening with Bram, I'd chosen to wear a mid-thigh length, black cocktail dress with black beading that reflected the lights and sparkled like a prism. It was really tight and I’d only worn it two times in the four years I'd owned it. Guess I didn't get out much. I'd finished it off with three-inch black leather stiletto boots and magicked a little curl into my hair, which of course, I wore down. Some pink lipstick, a touch of blush and a few strokes of mascara completed the look.

  It felt good to be going out on a date, even if I didn’t think Bram and I would ever be a
couple. But, I was now convinced that I needed to defeat my trust issues and what better way than to throw myself back into the dating game?

  When we arrived at The Chateus, Bram pulled out my chair from the table, and I could feel the shudder of his gaze as it traveled over me with quiet appreciation.

  “I have never seen you look so enchanting, Sweet. I am honored you chose to appear in such a way for me.”

  I smiled, not exactly comfortable with this date stuff. I watched Bram assume his seat, and then I let my eyes wander over the restaurant. The Chateaus was in nearby Sanctity. It was the nicest place to eat and I had to admit I was pretty flattered.

  Candle glow illuminated the otherwise dark interior and contrasted against the pristine white of the table linens and chairs in flickering shadows.

  “This place looks just like your office,” I said with a smirk.

  Bram chuckled. “It is just missing some red.”

  I returned my gaze to his. “What's up with your accent, Bram? You haven't been to England in over a century.”

  His grin deepened, the tips of his fangs just protruding over his bottom lip. “I was wondering when the Sweet I knew so well would surface.” Apparently, not wanting to enlighten me on the particulars of his counterfeit accent, he changed the subject. “Any more word on the book?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing yet. Any word on the Chinese massage parlor?”

  “Yes, I've purchased it. I plan to open a restaurant to top even this one.”

  “Big ambitions.”

  He nodded. “Of course, Sweet, of course.”

  “So, Dagan was never after your massage parlor?”

  Bram tapped his long fingers along the stem of his wine glass, reminding me that vampires didn't eat. They had no problem with liquids, but food wasn't something they were capable of digesting. Guess I'd be dining alone tonight. Strange that Bram would've invited me out to dinner in the first place. Hmm, he must've really wanted to get into my pants.

  “I believe Dagan was after it, but I beat him to the punch. He is in the process of purchasing the dark arts store.”

  I nearly choked on my water. “Fabian's?”