Bloodbound Nocturne (The Sophia Kelly Chronicles Book 1)

by Amy J. Wenglar

  CHAPTER NINE

  I wake with a start, fumbling for my phone on the table next to the bed. But it isn't my table, nor is it my room. I find my phone and illuminate the screen, taking a look around a bed that isn't mine in a room that isn't mine. I almost fall out of that bed as I reach for the lamp, hands shaking as I struggle to flip it on.

  "Where the hell am I?" I whisper to myself as I survey the room, which is all clean lines, masculine shades of gray, and modern, industrial-looking furniture that smells of reclaimed wood and a hefty price tag. A brand-new set of gray flannel pajamas sits neatly folded atop the nightstand, along with a glass of water and some aspirin.

  My thoughts become a jumbled mess as they race through my head. Everything comes back to me in a rush, and I can't think clearly. I'd passed out last night. In the middle of an agitated conversation with Dr. D. Which can only mean…

  This is his house and his bed.

  I pull the covers to my chin as fear takes hold of my mentally battered body once again. The club. The screams. The monsters. The vampires. There really had been vampires. And faeries. I sit for a moment longer while gathering the courage to get out of this strange bed and get some answers. And finally admit that yes, perhaps I am in a bit of danger.

  My stomach rumbles loudly and I realize how hungry I am, and it becomes the motivation I need to climb out of the cozy bed. I sigh, and slip into the flannel pajamas. They smell like Dr. D. Warm, spicy, and safe. I inhale deeply, savoring the scent of him. The pajamas are a little too big for me, and I find that I need to roll the pants at the waistband to keep them from dragging the floor.

  A light is on in the living room and I can hear a fire crackling in the fireplace. Creeping quietly down the stairs, I see Dr. D sitting on the couch, knees to his chest, a large book propped open in his lap. His hair is damp and hangs in waves against his forehead, and he's no longer covered in blood, which is quite an improvement. He looks up at me through stylish black-framed glasses as I descend the stairs. Trying to ignore what is smoldering behind his steel-blue gaze, I grip the railing and pray that I don't fall and tumble the rest of the way down the stairs.

  "It's about time."

  I think he's joking, but I'm not sure. With Christoph von Drauchenberg, it's hard to tell. I sit in the chair closest to the fire and farthest from Dr. D. I need to keep my distance. He's watching me like a hawk, and he looks as if he could attack at any moment.

  "I'm tired and hungry," I say, fighting the dryness in my throat. "I want to go home."

  "You're not going home," he says in a dull voice. "Not until I know there are no more of them out there."

  "Colin said he put some kind of spell on the house."

  "And you think I trust a little wizard's spell?" he says condescendingly.

  Tears spring to my eyes. Not because I'm afraid or sad but because I'm angry. How dare these creatures invade our world and terrorize everyone because of some supernatural beef between two Faerie courts? Over some stupid Changeling that may or may not be me.

  "What about Greg? What about my roommate?" Panic wells in the pit of my stomach.

  "Greg is fine," says Dr. D. "Well-protected and completely oblivious." He grimaces. "Waste of valuable resources, if you ask me, but that bumbling Irish idiot insisted on it."

  I am so taken off guard by Dr. D's unnecessary comments about my friend that I don't even answer. The professor stands and stretches his arms overhead, the hem of his FDNY T-shirt lifting to expose the lower half of some very toned abs. The tears in my eyes retreat and the lump in my throat disappears. He is stunning, and I know I shouldn't be staring, but I can't help but notice the way his pants hang loosely from his narrow hips. I had no idea he could be so normal. I figured he just sat on his couch, rigid as a pencil all the time.

  Okay, now. Maybe I don't want to go home.

  "Close your mouth, Miss Kelly," he quips. "Don't you know it's rude to stare?"

  He has that gravelly sound to his voice again — the one that sends goosebumps dancing across my arms.

  "I'm not staring," I say defensively. "I am thinking."

  Dr. D raises his eyebrows. "Ah." He shuffles casually toward the kitchen, which is right off the living room, and opens the freezer. "I'm afraid I don't have much in the way of food, and it's much too late for takeout. But I can heat up a frozen pizza." I nod with some eagerness. Anything sounds good at this point. Dr. D holds up a very ancient bottle of wine. "Can I pour you a glass?"

  "Sure," I say with a dismissive wave. "Might as well break some more rules tonight. I've already broken the sleeping-in-the-professor's-guest-bedroom rule, but I haven't broken the tossing-a-few-back-with-professors rule yet."

  A sour feeling of disgust, along with pangs of hunger, begin to rise again from the pit of my stomach. Dr. D hands me a glass of wine before moving back to his seat on the couch.

  "I would think that rule-breaking should be the least of your worries right now," he says dryly. "But besides that, what are you thinking about?" I've never seen him so relaxed before. He pats the seat beside him. "You can join me on the couch if you'd like. I won't bite you. Unless of course, you want me to." His teeth graze his lower lip, sending a ripple of desire coursing through me.

  I pretend to not hear him despite the lurch of excitement that sends my heart racing. It takes all I have to say "Thank you, but I'm fine right here." After all, I have to show some restraint. I'm already fighting to keep from sinking my own teeth into those abs of his.

  I take a sip of wine in an attempt to distract myself. It's a delicious red, and I imagine it to be hundreds of years old and pulled from the cellar of some seventeenth-century German castle or something.

  "Miss Kelly, if you think I have some ulterior motive to seduce you tonight, you're very much mistaken." He takes a healthy sip of his wine. "But I do have a few questions I need answered. Questions I didn't want to bring up in front of that Irish imbecile."

  "Yes. I have a few questions myself. First off, why are you so interested in my drama? And how do you know so much about me?"

  He lets out a slow sigh as if he is carefully considering his words. I start to say something about him being a stalker, but for once I keep my mouth shut. The man did just save my life, after all.

  "I made a promise to your father. He is… was… depending on what you believe, a very dear friend of mine." He looks at me, gauging my reaction, but I can only sit there, frozen. He's caught my interest now. "I promised him I would look after you should anything ever happen to him," he continues. "So I feel it is within my boundaries to concern myself with your affairs. Even more so now that the Unseelie are after you."

  I think I'm more interested in the fact that he was friends with my father than that he has vowed to protect me.

  "You knew my father?" More surprising is the fact that he referred to him as a dear friend. Dr. D doesn't seem like the type to have friends, let alone dear ones.

  "Yes. We were colleagues at Juilliard. Before his disappearance."

  "What do you know about his disappearance?"

  He shakes his head. "Not much." He pauses, his steely stare fixed on me, gauging my reaction. "How much do you know?"

  "I've heard the rumors. Well, my mother has heard rumors. She just passed them along to me in disjointed, half-dazed ramblings," I say flatly. "That he went mad and found his way back to Faerie, as if that's where he came from all along. But along the way he got lost or stuck in some perpetual loop, or even kidnapped. She even said once she thought he might have traveled. Like, back in time, if you can believe that."

  "I can. Your father had many secrets," he says tightly, his gaze unwavering. "But what is of particular interest to me is how much you know about yourself and your existence."

  My stomach turns as I remember the cryptic predictions Sarah had given to me in the club.

  "Well, in addition to what I've already told you, Sarah, Colin's girlfriend, is supposedly a seer." I use air quotes around the word "seer" because it still s
eems silly to me. "She said that there are two worlds within me, one of which I haven't even discovered yet. But according to her gift, I will be torn between these worlds and then sub-torn between love and destiny. I assume this is some metaphor for something else, maybe this Changeling thing. It could be anything, really. The girl eats nothing but avocado toast. Do you suppose I could be destined to go to Faerie, too? Is that what Changelings do? I mean, what if it's some big heroic quest or something? What if I can bring the Seelie and Unseelie together? You know? Maybe a treaty? Or a white flag, or some doves or something?"

  Dr. D doesn't respond. He just sits there, turning his wine glass in his hands. I can practically feel the wheels of his mind spinning, trying to make sense of all of this.

  "The Unseelie want you dead. You are not ready for a heroic quest."

  My stomach turns again.

  "They really wanted to kill me? They didn't just want to bring me in for questioning or something? Are you sure they wanted to kill me?"

  He gives me a strange look. "I have a way of making people talk, Miss Kelly, even Unseelie. They do become quite chatty when their immortality is in question." A wicked grin spreads across his lips and then fades back into his usual brooding and impenetrable stare. "And now I want to know what it is you are hiding from me."

  I stare at him, my eyes locked with his, trying to think of a response. Any response. My resolve starts to slip. My mind feels funny, as if someone is poking and prying around inside of it. He's trying to hypnotize me. Compel me. That's what Sebastian called it. Because that's what vampires do. I can feel his hold growing stronger, but out of nowhere a light switches on somewhere inside me. A light that seems to eclipse his hold on me, pushing it away. Protecting me. I leap to my feet.

  "No way. You are not doing that weird hypnotizing eye thing with me. I know what you are doing! Just like you were able to get in my head to talk to me at the club." His eyebrows rise slowly and he bites back a roguish grin. "You practically ripped that Unseelie's throat out at the club. Colin called you a bloodsucker." My stomach roils as I think back to the Unseelie’s nightmarish screams. "I know what you are!" I exclaim, pointing at him, just in case there was any question who I’m referring to. "You're a…" I trail off, feeling myself back down. I can't bring myself to say it. I can't bring myself to actually call him a vampire. What if I'm wrong?

  Dr. D blinks a couple of times, his expression calm. I sit back down, my courage deflating all around me, feeling as if I was perhaps a bit overdramatic. He folds his hands neatly in his lap and offers me a relaxed grin. I can't help but notice the hunger in his eyes. That wasn't there before.

  "Are you afraid?"

  "No. Well. Maybe."

  I pull my gaze from him, realizing that I'm not quite as brave as I wish to be. I don't know anything about vampires other than what I've seen in movies and read in books. Bottom line is that they sit around brooding and gloomy so they can lure you in with their mystery, seduce you, and then kill you.

  "How is it you can communicate telepathically with me?” he asks. “How is it you can resist my compulsion when very, very few people can?"

  "I told you, I don't know. I've been very open about this whole Changeling thing and how I think it's a possibility, so maybe that's why. But I certainly don't know how I can resist you when you're so…" I bite my lower lip, heat rising to the surface of my skin, with the startling realization that I was about to call him sexy.

  His mouth twitches, possibly with amusement, but again, with him, it's hard to tell.

  "Then, as we discussed before, you will be under constant protection. And yes, your roommate, too." His eyes flick to the scar on my wrist and then to his phone. He begins to awkwardly type out a text, one finger at a time, which looks nothing like the way his fingers fly across a piano keyboard.

  "What, so you're going to follow me around? Like a bodyguard?"

  "If need be, then yes." He puts his phone aside and resumes his sexy wine drinking. "Miss Kelly, you are very ill-prepared for what you are dealing with. Tonight should be proof enough of that."

  I make a noise of frustration. "So much for living the normal life," I grumble. "I should've stayed at home with my mother. She just babbled in half sentences about the supernatural. They weren't all prancing around in front of her."

  "Oh, is that what you think?" Dr. D practically laughs. "You think your mother wasn't involved with supernaturals? Right under your nose?" He rolls his eyes. "Come now, Miss Kelly."

  "Well, then what am I supposed to do?" I throw my hands in the air. "I can barely fight. My mother won't return my calls or texts, so I have no idea if she's even alive at this point. I have nothing, professor. Literally nothing except some crappy lead on this big book of answers that I'm not sure really exists." I pause. "You know, maybe I shouldn't fight it. Maybe I should just surrender and let them take me away and, I don't know, eat my face or whatever Faeries do."

  I swallow the lump in my throat, angry at the merriment that dances in Dr. D's eyes. The one time he decides to look jolly, and I'm about to have a nervous breakdown.

  "Now, Miss Kelly, let's not be dramatic. Your mother has likely gone into hiding, and—"

  "Without me? What the hell kind of coward raised me?"

  "And you have people looking out for you," he continues. "My good friend Greta, who you saw me with at the club tonight. She's got a team of people on this as well. And then there's even that idiotic Colin. So I definitely wouldn't say you have nothing. And you are stronger than you realize. We just need to figure out where those strengths are. How is your training going?"

  "As well as can be expected. Colin is ruthless and mean and pushes me to my breaking point. He says that's how it's done. Apparently, he's part of some underground Druid society, and he's putting me through the same training drills that he goes through."

  "Hmm. That's cute, but you will need more than that.”

  "Fine. I will talk to Colin."

  Dr. D actually laughs this time. "No. You will not always be fighting a magical enemy. You might be fighting vampires and werewolves and the Fae, all of which are cunning and very fast." He shakes his head. "Colin can only get you so far. I will train you, too."

  "You?" I raise my eyebrows and swallow a bitter laugh of my own. "I'm sorry, professor, but we barely get along as it is." He nods, agreeing with me. "Plus, we can't just hang out. You're a professor. I work for you. You practically own me." He looks over his wine glass at me, a storm brewing behind those piercing blue eyes. "And stop doing that." I wave my hand in front of me, trying to block the advances of his sultry stare. "You're my damned professor, for God's sake."

  "I think we both know this goes beyond the human-level student-teacher thing. Just as we both know it's not like that. We're not hanging out, nor will we ever hang out." He makes a face as if bored by the very idea of a student-teacher fling. "I will teach you to fight. Nothing more. I have no motives other than keeping you safe."

  Because you promised my father.

  He gets up and goes back into the kitchen, where he fetches the bottle of wine. He looks so good. All I want is to touch him. Hug him. Run my hands underneath the waistband of those damned pants. For some reason, the urge to burst into tears nearly consumes me. This is not how I pictured my life. I wanted to get away from the supernatural, not invite it in. I certainly did not intend to step into the role of Mystical Changeling and hang out drinking wine with vampires. Dr. D refills my glass and returns to his place on the couch.

  "The pizza should be—" He stops, taking note of my pained expression. "Now, Miss Kelly, let's not have any of that."

  "This is not good," I whimper, as tears fall freely from my eyes. "I can't have the Fae after me. Why am I so unprepared? Why is this all happening at once? I just got here. Can't a girl get settled for a semester? Can't the Fae wait until I've at least seen all the sights of Austin?"

  I cover my face with my hands, not wanting him to see me cry. I'm not sure what's upsetting me more: t
he fact that my life seems to be headed in a direction I've finally realized I can't control, or the fact that I am starting to have some pretty strong feelings for a man I know I can't have.

  "Come here," says Dr. D, patting the seat next to him. I hesitate for a moment. "Forget all of that," he continues, with a small wave of his hand. "And come here." With my freshly refilled wine glass in hand, I slowly make my way to the couch and sit beside him. He smells delicious. Clean, with a hint of masculine spice. "It's going to be okay, you know. I will make sure of that."

  He drapes an arm around my shoulder and, to my surprise, he hugs me to him. My throat tightens, and I try desperately not to breathe in that clean, masculine scent as he draws me closer. This is a man who is built for seduction. It's how he stays alive. He mutters something to himself as he reaches for a throw that is partially draped over the back of the couch and partially under my butt.

  Oh dear.

  "I'm afraid you're sitting on part of…"

  "Oh!" I exclaim, wriggling a little so he can pull the blanket out from under me.

  Awkward.

  Dr. D does his best to drape the throw around me, but ends up almost knocking the wine glass from my hand.

  Even more awkward.

  My tears give way to laughter, and before long he is laughing too. It's the first time I've heard such a sound come from him. His arm tightens around me, and before I know it I am snuggled up next to him. Under a blanket. Drinking a glass of wine.

  "So, my father," I say, once our laughter has subsided. "Tell me more about him. Good stuff. Not the crazy rumor stuff."

  Dr. D's mouth tightens. I know I've brought up a sore subject, but I don't care. No one has ever told me anything about him except rumors. I want to know about the real person, not the person who has been invented and remade over the years.

  He stares off into space for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts before speaking, and I take a moment to admire the smoothness of his skin. The way his throat moves when he swallows. The way the muscles in his jaw clench and then relax as if he's fighting some epic battle with himself.