Then an ear-splitting, booming roar jolted everyone in surprise. Around, hands clamped over ears. Not hers, though. The bellows belonged to Keeland. She pushed through the sea of bodies. Making it to his door, Veronica barged in, nearly bumping into a few other staff members. They practically cowered behind the portfolios they held. She stepped forward, eyeing the disaster. Had there really been a bomb?
The spartan desk was clear of items that now littered the floor, the computer gone. She winced. It was smashed in a pathetic heap on the other side of the room.
Oh, this is so not good.
Veronica turned to the people by the door. “Go,” she told gently. They didn’t need to be told twice. She followed, telling everyone in the hallway to return to their desks and to answer to Mona until further notice. The demoness gave her a questioning look, which Veronica waved off, then locked the door.
Now it was just her and the object of scorching madness.
She’d witnessed vampires in their most deadly state. Consumed by bloodlust. Surrendered to the deeper abyss of evil. All immortals of the undead aren’t representations of darkness, starting out in a cosmic mess of blackened sludge. They’re born from the shadows, but that doesn’t mean they live their long lives lurking in it. And each supernatural species has their own definition, their own dark hole they fall into and have their true evil rise to the surface.
However, there’s a level to consider. Some are milder than others and anyone can pull themselves out of intense toxic moods. There’s also ways to effectively coax a person to snap out of it. Between lovers, the major pisser one can simply bite the other to expel the pent-up aggression.
It’s morbidly interesting and rather risky to behold a person become their contrastingly dangerous self in such close quarters.
Like she was with Keeland now.
He paced in front of the large window, chest heaving and jaw flexing. His sleeves were shoved to the elbows. Dark green spider web veins covered his forearms, spreading up his neck and temples. Smoke gloved his hands. Elven ears curled like devil horns.
The electrifying magic, green and black sparks, that fizzled and popped off his body singed his shirt and pants. It bounced off the glass window, hitting the floor; causing little silver flames. A mad elf truly is a sight to behold. Veronica always admired his ironclad determination and God-like passion for the business he built from scratch. She hated this deal had even come to him, wishing he hadn’t been caught in the middle of the likes of Matthews and Remington.
Understandably, this was a golden egg. Turned rotten.
And she understood Keeland and was sure he’d want someone to help take him off the psycho train. Lucky for him, she was willing to be the levelheaded sack of calm in situations like these. Plus, she’d never had the patience for tantrums.
“Keeland!” she snapped through his persistent growling and forceful grunts like a raging bull.
He pivoted to acknowledge the person who dared come at him during a time like this, surprise registering.
Yeah, buddy, it’s me and I’m not afraid to whoop your ass back to normal.
He narrowed milky white eyes. No pupils. Just blank eyeballs that were creeping her the hell out.
I take back this all being remotely interesting. The dude was on a new level of fuckery and she was the odd one out on how to snap him out of it. A loud hand clap to jolt him back was no good. Not flinching, just heavy breathing, Keeland stood like a mass of stone. “Jeez, ease up some, will ya? You’re freaking me out.” she edged closer. Why so slowly? Well maybe she was being a tad cautious. Handling an out of control Elf wasn’t on her resume.
He’s your Elf.
Though they hadn’t officially talked about them, or given it a label, she was going to use whatever it was to her advantage. She ate the distance to Keeland to stand right in front of him, being very damn brave to allow an inch of space. He’d doused the flying sparklers. Thank Gods. Le Burnt shall not be a fashion trend today.
Veronica waited, not speaking, only exuding calm, releasing it off and hopefully onto him. Slowly, his eyes returned to the jade coloring she could easily get lost in. Her hand slowly rested on his chest. He flinched before settling. The green-branched veins receded.
“That’s it, Boss Man.” she smiled, twining one arm around his neck. Fascinated, the other hand held his jaw as it unclenched, the menacing signs of darkness erased from his smooth skin. her thumb grazed upward, brushing his bottom lip. His lips parted. Without intending to, the planes of their bodies pressed together, Veronica was drawn to the thick fangs protruding from his bright pink gums. Hypnotized. They were white, and crazy sharp. She couldn’t stop staring at them. One thumb passed the threshold of his mouth, nearing the right fang...
Suddenly, his hand gripped my wrist.
She yelped. “Shit!”
“Veronica.” He swallowed, then exhaled through his nose and snaked his other arm around her waist, just for a moment. His hand moved to her ass, roughly grabbing a cheek.
“Oh.” Okay. I guess angry Keeland had been replaced by horny Keeland. Hell, she was cool with that. “You made quite a mess here,” He flinched as if she slapped him, his eyes widening. They frantically took in the wreckage, dissolving to white again.
Dammit! What’d I say?
“Seriously, I thought you were normal again!” she huffed, shoving away, but didn’t gain any sort of upper hand. He had her locked.
She slapped him.
He growled.
She slapped him harder.
He squeezed her ass and growled louder.
Can’t deny, she was getting a little turned on. A glance at his desk, triggered the hot fantasy of being under him on the wood. However, she couldn’t determine what was churning in his head as of now. Was he about to blow another gasket?
Suddenly, his eyes blinked back on, lime and shining with starving lust. He fisted her hair. The clip unhinged and fell. Knees buckled. Man, this is mood whiplash at its finest. He snarled, confusing Veronica to think he was still... angry? But horny? His erection pressed into her belly.
“Keeland.” Going along with his slow grinds that blazed every fiber., she dug maroon painted nails in his chest, making him hiss, expression clouded, unreadable. “What do you want?” What would it take to bring him back to Earth?
“You.”
Alrighty.
In a flash, Veronica’s backside was against the far wall of the office—did I mention elves are just as fast as vampires? —still clutched to him. He glanced at a hand-scanning pad attached to the wall. She’d never given a previous thought to it, though familiar with the device. The Ardelean mansion had loads. She knew it led to an unseen private sanctum. He laid his left hand on it, and the bookshelf closest to them slid to the side, unveiling the hidden room.
Keeland backed off, head tilted, a question obvious, though he hadn’t voiced it. The heavy breathing and Oh, damn—his fangs that now extended to his bottom lip pretty much prevented speech. My caveman was struggling.
She peered inside the tiny room. It was dimly lit, carpeted, and contained a leather sofa, a smaller desk, a mini fridge, and a credenza holding crystal bottles and books. His time-out room. And from the looks of the pair of shoes and the suit hanging in a tiny open closet, a second home.
“Okay, so we’ll chill in here, I guess.” she shrugged.
“No,” he grunted, sounding in pain. It was the ache in his fangs. Hers never grew that long, but when they have a mind of their own, the nerves in the gum prickle like needles. Unbearably. For vampires that happens when behind on several feedings. Veronica frowned, not liking the suffering he was in. Plus, the anger that remained wasn’t making the condition better. She shifted, trying to think. Come on, girl, this needs to end. How, though? Maybe Mona would know. She could have asked her, but at the same time she didn’t want to leave him. A noise of frustration slipped. She close yanking her hair. “Keeland, what—” then stopped.
Shadowed in the corner they wer
e in, he began moving forward, crowding to the point that she was retreating backward into the small room. “Um... Keeland?”
He shut the door after him and stared, hungrily, at her neck.
Then it hit. There are also ways to effectively coax a person to snap out of it. A bite to expel the pent-up aggression.
Funny how this worked out.
Well, this should be interesting.
Chapter Thirteen
Pulsating.
Every muscle.
His heart was trying to burst free.
Mentally, Keeland was flying while he stood rooted, aching, in his tiny oasis for when he wedged out five minutes of peace away from hammering stress. Veronica was here, too. Now the place felt more like a haven than it had before.
“All right let’s do this, Boss Man.” She flicked back her long mane and took a seat on the sofa, unbuttoning the three little pearl knobs to expose sharp collarbones and the base of her neck.
Mine.
He knew what she’s doing.
Giving him permission.
I don’t deserve her.
But he’s a selfish bastard and in an instant was on her, laying her flat on the cold leather. She supplied a warm, encouraging smile. He groaned at how amazing she felt underneath him. Chest pressing against hers, pushing breasts higher, forming creamy hills he wanted to spend hours kissing.
So many words wanted to unleash, to express to this woman. However the ache needed to ease. Anger from this morning had leveled to almost nothing once she came into his office. Her mere presence was the perfect aid.
He battled what all elven men struggled with—actually all supernatural males had to endure.
A body hijacking, lust-inducing need to claim the woman they wanted.
To claim Veronica Ardelean.
It had started the day she became his assistant, fueling into a raging fire when he acted like an office-destroying monster. He couldn’t hold out any longer.
“It’s okay.” She gently smoothed a hand down his arm, sending waves of heat that rocked his insides. One slight movement of their pelvis bumping, and he was a goner.
Keeland darted to her smooth neck, fangs anchored deep. She writhed, releasing sounds of both distress and pleasure, which he mirrored. No, he wasn’t drinking, nor would he. This bite was the drain I’d needed to unplug. And her willingly allowing to do this?
Inwardly he sought peace, needing the ache to dissipate.
How a person could be further buried, swept farther out, came without an answer. It just happens, because he was the proof.
Minutes after he detached, fangs returned to original size, she cradled his head as he still lay on her, entirely spent. The puncture wounds faded, not disappearing, though. Two tiny gray dots tattooed her skin.
“Keeland?”
“Hmm?” He kissed her wrist.
“Don’t think that because you’re tired now, I’ll be the only one cleaning your fucking office.” She tugged his ear, the action felt entirely too sexual. He chuckled and stood, pulling her to her feet and did a quick roll of his shoulders and neck.
She watched, clearly enjoying the view.
“Watch it, Miss Ardelean.” he tapped her nose and smirked. “Your obvious desire will delay you tidying up my desk.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled.
Need a little more. He pulled the woman into his arms, inhaling her sweet, fruity scent, relishing this moment. Savoring her softness that wrapped around his waist. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“Anytime.”
The single word jolted his heart.
“But I do think I deserve a raise.” She giggled.
* * *
Had he gotten my shit together? Mostly. Enough that Keeland regained work mode and his employees were allowed back in, once his office was magically flipped right-side-up again with a few flicks of the wrist. Reality surged to the forefront.
How the hell did Matthews persuade him to even tangle with the unreliable likes of Remington? If Keeland hadn’t been so seduced by the major payout and caught up in the knowledge that business would boom louder than a thunderstorm, the potential path of error would have been noted.
He knew better than this. His feet had ran ahead of his ancient brain.
Had Matthews already approached Remington and failed before he came to me? Had this suddenly turned into a set-up?
The employees, standing and sitting, said nothing. They waited for their boss. The man they were supposed to look up to, to be competent enough to form a fucking sentence. An apology was in order. Keeland scrubbed a hand over his face, breathing deeply. It did nothing to cool the rebirth of ball of fire in his chest. Then Mona walked in, and, taking the rear, Veronica. She smiled shyly, following her smile with a brow quirk and narrowed eyes, silently saying get it together.
The ball of flames was immediately snuffed out.
Her hair, pulled to one side, cascaded down her chest, concealing the mark he’d left. The thought brought upon a whole new awareness he’d never experienced with any other woman. Nor will there ever be another woman.
She was it.
Need, the awaiting snake, coiled—growing dangerous and ready to strike.
Soon.
He finally addressed the small crowd. “It was unprofessional of me to react the way I did. For that, I apologize.” Loyal employees nodded, visibly relaxing and surprise registered the majority’s expressions. Unfortunately, this was the first Keeland ever called himself out in front of them.
“I’ll handle Matthews. You all will focus your undivided attention on the other projects we have on the docket.”
“Sir,” Craig Tapper, the bright young warlock who was among many valuable team members, raised his hand. “Is Mr. Matthews really going to break ties with us?” The faces of those in the room showed they clearly wanted to know.
Go with honesty. “It’s looking that way.” Keeland sighed. “But like I said, I will handle what’s to come. And... we’ll move on.” Resurrect might be pelted by the fallout if Matthews bitched to other business owners because he couldn’t get his way.
It wouldn’t be the end of the world, though.
A month ago, Keeland’s office and innocent inanimate objects would’ve endured a lot more, with employees steering far clearer for days, only going to Mona for guidance. That Keeland’s wrath would have rocked The Tower. Yes, he still partially existed because he, too, was power hungry. Challenge obsessed. Blind to the many faults and deaf to warnings. That obsessive need to succeed has gotten him and his company to where it was now. Stable, yet unstable. Strong, yet threatened, and soon to be weakened by its first losing battle.
We would move on. That much was very true.
He forced a reassuring smile to wary employees and dismissed them. As they filed out he turned to the wall of glass, absorbing the panoramic view of Grimstone behind the barrier. His vision traced every edge, highlighted every curve, from the cobblestone circle that lay under Adela, directly below, then shifting up to the sharp peaks of Sovereign Mountains in the foggy and very far distance.
He saw it all.
However, the rest of his senses followed the vampire who had left minutes ago.
Chapter Fourteen
The end of the day popped its head as Veronica organized her desk and filed away papers from today.
No one knew she’d just set into motion a very risky, dynamite exploding and possibly career ending plan.
She tapped a contact located in Romania, an unknown name and face because that’s how these people like to keep it, since they deal in secrets. She gladly given a chunk of her riches in exchange for some hopefully damning information. It was too early to get excited. Hell, she might get squat and be out the money, but as things had turned to shit recently, it was still worth it.
Keeland was worth it.
Mona knocked and came in. “Hey, girl,” she greeted.
“What’s up?” Veronica stood, tablet in hand, deciding to touch base wi
th Keeland. Work related, but mainly for personal reasons. Besides checking to make sure he was all right, let’s face it, she was addicted to that man.
“We’re all done for the day,” Mona said, cracking her neck and exhaling. “Keeland said we can go home early.”
“Really?”
“Yep. Sweet, right?” Her little shoulders shimmied. “Mama’s gonna sip margaritas. All. Night. Long.”
“Oh... okay.” The device was placed down. Mona swiveled to the door then abruptly stopped. “Ronnie?”
“Hmm?”
“Keeland... I don’t know what it is.” Mona shook her bob haircut, appearing puzzled. Panic rose inside. Was there something wrong? “Though I have a feeling,” the demon continued, “It’s... you.”
“What are you talking about?” Now Veronica was confused.
“Earlier today, he... apologized. He never has after an outburst and trust me, I’d remember.”
Veronica’s response: nothing.
“He’s changed... ever since you arrived.”
Suddenly, the pencil on her desk seemed interesting, she twirled the slender utensil with a finger.
“Veronica.”
She stopped to look at friendly, but serious Mona. Nothing gets past her. Mona glanced at the mass of hair she had to the side. It’s likely she suspects. Mona’s face softened, a dreamy look in her topaz eyes. “Enjoy the rest of your night,” was all she said, then left.
She knows.
If everyone is allowed to go home, that includes me...the exact opposite of what Veronica wanted to do. The desk phone rang.
ID: KEELAND
It was picked up before the second ring. “Hey.”
“Veronica.” He sounded pleasant.
“Everything okay?” she asked, twirling the curly cord around a finger. He was silent for a beat.
“Yes. I’m finishing up here in a bit...” He cleared his throat. “I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner... with me?”
Gods, he’s adorable. “Of course. That would be great.” she nodded, like he could see her. Duh, Veronica, he can’t.
“Good. I’d like to surprise you, if that’s all right?”
Blood, Cupcakes and Wicked Business (Grimstone Island) Page 8