Blood, Cupcakes and Wicked Business (Grimstone Island)

by Rochelle Pearson

  Logic endlessly reminded Keeland that Veronica wasn’t in the least bit interested–facial expression evident of that–but the black mass, his inner beast, refused to pass the fact the blond was standing too fucking close to her.

  She’s mine.

  The cigar rolled with harsh enchanted substance burned quick to a nub. Aggravated results. Keeland appeared more and more like a scaly creature, puffing dark blue and orange clouds through flaring nostrils than the actual dragon sitting next to him.

  “Well, aren’t you a scary little, fella?” Adrian said cheekily.

  “Shut up.”

  “Oooh, I’m hurt. We were having such a pleasant time too. Then, just like that,” he snapped his fingers, “you’ve changed entirely. Entertaining, given the sudden shift isn’t aimed at me. Now, what seems to be causing my dear friend’s panties to bunch into his delightful ass?” Adrian, well versed in Mean Elf-ology, went through a process of elimination. “Let’s see, traffic was light upon arrival, your appraisal noted, so no road rage led to booting sorry saps off a cliff. It’s not nearly crowded in here. The drinks are top notch. The cigar beautifully potent although... it seems they aren’t inducing their true purpose in lulling that large head of yours. Yet for some reason, I won’t bet my gold on that being the cause...”

  “Are you finished?” Keeland twined a low growl through his question. Eyes fixed at the bar. Adrian clucked his serpent tongue, joyously, a little too much. The dragon was always hungry to poke at him but never in a manner that threatened their over century old friendship. Keeland inwardly smirked. Ah, the battle that would’ve arisen. Such a fight, catastrophic to the planet, eons going by, a diabolical chess game done with eyes closed, they were too evenly matched. Yes, an elf and dragon adversary. Elven abilities were just as sharp and lethal as dragon’s teeth and talons. The fire breathing part, hardly something to add. A deflecting counter act was yawn inducing. Keeland instead gained an ally at his side, than a foolish-driven enemy.

  One who still deserved a few whacks upside the head.

  “I’ve got it! Your dick is involved, isn’t it?” Adrian went on. “And perhaps the very familiar, undead vixen at the bar is too? The vampire currently being wooed–”

  Keeland’s hiss shut him up. However, not for long.

  Adrian laughed outright then really got a good look at him, scanning his face.

  “Shit, Elwood... shit, shit, shit.” Adrian shook his auburn head. “Dare I say–finally?”

  “Don’t.” But that’s what was happening.

  “Has a woman–no, the woman of an immortal lifetime–because my friend never goes for less–has finally...”

  “Adrian.”

  “...captured your toxic, moldy soil encrusted heart?”

  Keeland inclined his head at that.

  “Is it, now?” Stupid to inquire. He’s wasn’t oblivious. He knows who he is.

  “Undoubtedly but let me finish–I was building it up.”

  Keeland raised his glass. “To your dramatics.”

  Arian’s pupils slit briefly. “As I was saying, could it be your fine as hell assistant, don’t deny her identity, I’ve met her before, will inevitably drain the sludge that coats your soul?” The dragon’s piercing gaze always sought its most desires.

  The truth.

  “Wow, wow, wow.” He tsked. “You’ve been withholding.”

  Keeland took his time, removing lint off his pant leg before addressing the man with a bored gaze–hopefully it’s a better mask than before.

  “First of all, you’re an ass.”

  “That’s what makes this friendship work. It takes one to know one.”

  Agreeable, Keeland’s mouth slightly quirked. “Second, let’s discuss your current escapades.”

  “None on the docket,” Adrian snorted then took a long drag of his cigar, becoming thoughtful. He continued in a low voice. “However, there is someone... a wolf.”

  “Interesting.”

  “She quite is. A startling little thing that’s caught me, dare I say, in a surprising way.”

  “You? A damned Galzra?” Keeland mocked aghast. “A wolf caught you?”

  “Hush.” Adrian rolled eyes. “She’s a handful–”

  “You’ve had the pleasure?” Keeland mused with an arched brow.

  Adrian shook his head. “Not yet,” he said in a long hiss that blazed his eyes. “It’s too early. A game, a succulent game might I add, has begun and I’d like to see where it leads. Now, back to you.”

  Hmph, right when interest piqued with this wolf business, Keeland thought. “When I’m ready to divulge information–”

  “Gods, cut the shit. I’m not a damn client in a meeting. I’ve had enough of those settings for one day. Don’t give me the run around.” Adrian sliced a hand through the air, producing heat waves.

  Keeland immediately sent up a barrier. Two wrist flicks and an invisible coverage separated them and possible prying acute ears, muting their conversation.

  Adrian looked amused. “Tell it to me straight,” he said slowly. “How long have you held a blazing cock up torch for your assistant–”

  “Her title means nothing,” Keeland automatically cut in. Then silently cursed himself.

  “Well that’s very telling. Answer the question. And don’t lie. You know the intuition of a dragon’s mind is inferior.”

  “Draco’s, yes. As for you? Keep your gold.” Keeland purposely pushed that button. Wrong, it absolutely was. Draco Galzra, a Hallow Six-er, dragon family clan leader, and Adrian’s grandfather was indeed among the day’s tiresome off limit topics inside Chambers tranquil sanctum.

  Keeland was warranted the double fanged snarl.

  He sighed.

  “Since she began her position.” His admission said low, serious enough that urged Adrian to settle.

  “Several weeks,” Adrian mused.

  Keeland nodded. “She’s different.”

  “How so?”

  “Stronger than any. Quick, sharp-–”

  “Keeland, she’s got the damn job already, I don’t need her professional qualities. What else?” Adrian urged.

  Keeland tamed a sudden flare of irritation. He certainly wasn’t planning for the evening to take this route, let alone him spilling his guts. “I see her as an equal.” That I’ve longed for. “She’s good...” Amazing. “Smart...” The most intelligent woman he’s encountered. Not a damn dunce batting false eyelashes. “I find myself...” Wanting to see her always. Looking forward to the newly lightened spot that’s graced him since she’d come into work every day. Fuck yes, it hasn’t been that long but this was his long life, he knew what he wanted, what he needed and had been waiting...

  “She’s... real,” he said.

  “Real,” Adrian repeated.

  “Real.” Breathtakingly so.

  Adrian nodded, smiling in a non-mocking way. Keeland did not desire a mate to expunge his tainted being or be savior to right all the wrongs, nor be on his knees crying to be pure, blah blah blah. Nuh uh. That’s not him. Take me as I am. He craved a woman who’d be a part of a dominating duo, an ironclad partner, a queen he’d worship and thrive with moving forward into the next millennia.

  In his eyes, a perfect creature who he will Keeland swallowed heavier words.

  “I know you haven’t uttered a single thing to her,” Adrian said, unaware of how deep this was rooted. “What about a fraction of a hint?”

  “No,” is all Keeland said then slowly from underneath dark lashes, his gaze returned to Veronica. He was intensely aware and vulnerable to his descriptive thoughts and how they matched her. The world’s surrounding colors slipped, a water-logged painting, in grays and browns. However, Veronica glowed brighter with delicious hues.

  Magic fed off his thoughts and the force in his gaze and began to formulate unseen thread-like appendages on its own. Well, hardly. After all, it manifested from existing emotions Keeland let loose inside him. The energy emitted a desiring pull, wanting to taste and wrap
itself around her and keep her within his gravity.

  Adrian’s voice penetrated just then. “From my visual perspective, I ask– will the next events deem troublesome?”

  Keeland understood what he referred to. Seeing it too, the catalyst that nearly caused him to smash his glass.

  The warlock was about to lose the hand that dare lay on Veronica.

  “I can remove his spine if you want?” Adrian offered, too eager. “Needn’t worry about soiling my suit–I have plenty more.”

  Generous, instead, Keeland would make his own move.

  Ahead, Veronica parted from the group and hastily retreated into the hallway that accommodated the restrooms.

  And right there, he saw his chance.

  Chapter Four

  “Fancy meeting you here.” Despite the low-lit pathway, Veronica’s superior eyesight honed in on the single microscopic fleck in the air to Keeland’s lovely glare cast down his stern nose.

  As well, the Don’t Start With Me look that followed.

  Okay, new approach.

  “How’s your evening? Swell, I hope.”

  Keeland’s lip curled.

  Gah, I can never win!

  Arms crossed, she settled in a stance, a bit on guard as was he. She asked, “What’s up?” with a flat tone.

  “You tell me?” he threw back. Can you picture what he must appear like in person? Face cloaked in shadow, voice eerily low, dangerously calm–those mirrored vibrating eyes.

  Kinda like in the dead of night, watching a meek prey that unluckily wandered on to his path.

  Too bad for him–she wasn’t it.

  A step forward brought them close; his tasty magic lingered with fresh soap even after a full day of work.

  Despite the minor tempting distraction, Veronica remained on the defense because like the other weird moment in his office when he disappeared into his personal bathroom–this dude must be acting off again.

  “Seriously, what’s wrong with you? Okay, yeah, I noticed you came in, but the whole time you had not for one second let up glaring at me.”

  “Not you.” He gritted his teeth, barely audible. An image of Pinky Ring Bungalow Man Chadwick emerged. I called it. Being right in the middle of a silly Me Man Roar Roar game.

  Then it hit.

  Keeland was jealous.

  Not that she’d ask for confirmation. This tidbit could be all in her head. Besides, one would have to have actual feelings for that person in order to dredge up jealousy.

  “Mr. Elwood, I’d like to get back to my company.” Banking on it, she went left–and Keeland smoothly delivered a block. A growl followed. Veronica narrowed her gaze. This alpha on alpha was hot enough, however, what was the end result? What did he want out of this? Her arousal level peaked drastically since he appeared in the hall–wait no, since she first spotted him earlier. But importantly, what was she hoping for? And what happens if their next move turned into something she’s been craving for a while now?

  Or again, was all this speculation merely a one-sided lusty fanatical illusion? His administered ambush could be work related.

  Well, that wilted her horny flower.

  “Did you need something? My tablet is the car if you want me to–”

  “Why are you here?” he interrupted.

  “You mean using the restroom? Or overall here, in this public establishment?” If he wanted to play the unnecessary grill her card, then she’d put down I have no problem being a Bitch card in return. Rude, yes, especially towards her employer–but formal polite behavior should only apply to those who earned it.

  She continued. “Sometimes, I constitute my free time hanging out with Mona–”

  “Never here.”

  “Yes, sometimes here and stop interrupting me. Chalk it up to confidence, would you?”

  Keeland arched a brow. “Fine.” Attitude stuck in place. “And the likelihood you’d have... other company?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Yes, you do, Veronica,” he hissed.

  “Maybe you should spell it out for me. After all, I have been drinking.” Not tipsy in the least, but he knew she’d been drinking. Blatant stare apparent.

  Keeland turned sour. “That male warlock–”

  “Oh, you’d like to know, hm?” She chuckled, showing fang. Jack-friggin’-pot. Keeland had leaned in, simultaneously as a tingly flare spiraled in her gut.

  “Humor me,” he requested, huskily.

  “Why do you even care who I’m with?” No sooner the question left her mouth, she knew it was the wrong counter.

  He shut down.

  Keeland took a gaping step back, eyes blanked.

  No, this isn’t what I wanted.

  He regarded her quietly for a couple beats, then to her disappointment said, “You are correct. Excuse my asking. Have a good evening, Ms. Ardelean,” before striding away, leaving her slighted and alone. Loudly, she clucked her tongue. There goes another peculiar moment by the one and only Oddball Boss Man.

  Screw this, where’s my bed?

  ***

  Adrian hadn’t said a word. Only a single observing glance at Keeland’s twisted mug nearly had him in a laughing fit.

  “You fucked up, didn’t you?” the dragon asked while Keeland lit another cigar. And remained focused on the minimal task as Veronica stormed by.

  Her muttered “Asshole” comment successfully delivered.

  Adrian waited till the fuming vamp and her friend left Chambers before laughing again.

  “My fickle, sorely stupid Elven friend–you have work to do.”

  Keeland rubbed his jaw. Indeed.

  Chapter Five

  The vibe at work for the following two days evolved into a staticy knotted web. The tension was thicker than a multitude of stacked blood-creamed éclairs yet just as enticing. Veronica had already dealt with the blip moment in Chambers–simmered in irritation during the next days and they hadn’t spoke about it.

  They kept it professional–at least on the outside, despite conflicting feelings, it fought along with Veronica’s creative imagination that sparked through their connected glances. She couldn’t stop rogue lust ridden images.

  It brought the Intense Keeland from Chambers to the surface.

  A predatory awaiting demeanour, like a lion on top of a high rock staring down at a lone baby antelope prompted her ass to make busy elsewhere when she’d find herself alone with him.

  The only thing she did want, since the creepy hard gazes had become absolutely tiresome, was for him to drop the emotion stirring act and finally let out what was on his damn mind.

  On auto pilot, Veronica cruised through usual morning rituals, stretching her talents by doing such necessities with a slice of reheated pizza in her mouth. A cheesy delicacy from the Golden Doubloon–surprisingly owned by the retired ruthless pirate, Black Beard.

  It was the last triangular evidence of a late night gorge-fest caused by Keeland related stirrings. She swallowed the remaining bite, licked rabbit blood marinara sauce off fingers and began the commute to The Tower.

  On second thought, she took a quick detour instead.

  ***

  She waited in line at Sweet Suffering, home to the best damn cupcakes. Her treat dealer and rapidly becoming best friend, Seraphina, was a golden blessing who gracefully wielded a whisk and bowl of batter.

  The quaint shop had it all, to the person’s imagination as to what the perfect yet eerie in nature dessert haven contained from the case displaying everyday delights, to the big, hanging chalkboard broadcasting today’s special, and underneath, a near eight foot, long limbed bark-skinned fairy taking orders. On the counter under a glass cake dome, featured the three specials for customer viewing:

  Chocolate Skulls - a cocoa-flavored cupcake topped with buttercream frosting in the shape of a skeleton’s head, coconut shavings added.

  Brain in a Cup - a red velvet cupcake, designed with dark pink icing in the form of a brain and drizzled with strawberry syrup t
o signify blood.

  Lastly, Spider’s Nest - a vanilla cupcake, slathered high in thick vanilla frosting, white shredded cotton candy, and tiny spider-shaped candies.

  There’s always an alternative to every dessert created for daring consumers. Candy spiders can be replaced with real dead arachnids. Real animal brain matter can be mixed into the icing. And bone shavings can substitute for coconut. Veronica preferred them as they are, but with blood injected into the cake like a jelly donut.

  “Veronica!”

  “Sera.” Her smile grew as the beautiful woman came bouncing from around the counter to hug Veronica. That woman, the owner of Sweet Suffering, practically crushed her during the embrace. Good gods, I keep forgetting. Great power hides behind a precious image. That’s usually how it is with angels. Especially angels who carry the blood of a god.

  Enter Seraphina Amare. The only daughter of Eros, aka Cupid, the god of desire, and granddaughter to Aphrodite, the goddess of love. Her beauty, charms and personality enriched in being divine go unnoticed in her crystal blue eyes. That strikes Veronica the most about her. She wasn’t out seducing men or women because of her DNA, what her father and grandmother are known for. No, Seraphina directs love towards baking, capturing stomachs instead of hearts. Though she doesn’t realize her sweet creations are an entire mind and body experience, and indeed, shoot sugary arrows at the heart. She’s just too good to be true.

  The vampire and angel immediately hit it off during the first encounter Veronica had with Sera’s delicious cooking when she arrived in town. Nearly every morning, Sera feeds Veronica’s growing addiction. The best things are having friends like her and Mona.

  “Let’s go in the back,” Sera whispered. “I’ll hook you up.” Veronica obliged, trailing after her thin body. Hair the color of sun reflecting wheat swayed down to her rear. She was dressed in a skinny strap, ankle flowing, white sundress. The waterfall of her long mane touched part of her bare back the dress exposed. Cotton white feathered wings folded underneath.