Black Magic Rose Page 14

  Could Jankin have been correct?

  Dragomir quickly ran through a series of ideas that should have quelled his desire: fish guts, target practice, werewolf breath. When none of it worked he called up the vivid images of headless men in battle. The gruesome pictures did the trick.

  “Tonight we practice disengaging.” He turned to face her.

  “We are not practicing anything tonight or any other night.” She stood up. “You are not to come onto my property or into my house or my office or near me ever again. You animal.” Again her hands flew to her hips. Little fists resting on those lovely curves.

  Dragomir smiled. He rather enjoyed her antics. Dramatic. Over-the-top. Silly. Her face reddened. She was just getting started. He sat on the windowsill and waited.

  “If you think you’re ever putting your hands on me again, you’ve—” She took one clumsy step forward and dropped down three inches.

  “Got another think coming?” He finished her sentence.

  She stepped onto her left foot and went back up. “What? Yes. That’s right. Don’t think I can’t put an end to you. I’ll just share this with Dr. MacDuff.” She yanked her collar down.

  Dragomir’s eyes bulged. He moved across the room, reaching her before she had time to tell him to stay away or put her collar back in place. He surveyed her neck. He’d bruised her badly. A giant round of black and blue covered the entire left side of her throat. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought someone punched her. No wonder she wore the ridiculous scarf.

  He brushed his fingers across her neck, inspecting. No fang marks. He sighed in relief. At least he hadn’t claimed her. How would he explain that to her or Jankin?

  Somehow he’d managed to avoid the entire “I-defiled-your-Employee Relations Manager” conversation. It hadn’t been easy but he’d managed, though he had been forced to admit his feelings for Sofia. He never thought he’d have been thankful to hear Jankin admit to breaking the law. It was the one thing that saved him from an all out battle over Sofia.

  She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. With one hand he caressed her head while the other touched her neck. She whimpered the faintest sound he’d ever heard a woman make.

  Dragomir licked his lips. The desire to kiss her mouth and then her neck surged. He wanted to kiss away her worries and the bruise he’d left on her. His heart throbbed when he looked at it. How could he have hurt her?

  “Sofia,” he whispered. “Open your eyes.”

  Her long dark lashes fluttered open and she looked down, not meeting his gaze.

  His fingers caught her chin, drawing her closer. “I never meant to hurt you.” His thumb rubbed over her chin. “Forgive me.”

  Sofia nodded and pulled away. She rushed past him in an off-kilter sort of bounce and exited her office.

  “Sofia? Is everything all right?” Jankin asked.

  Dragomir didn’t bother to turn and watch her go. He’d heard Jankin enter the hallway seconds earlier, and he needed the moment to mask what he felt before facing what might come next.

  “I just need a minute.” Her voice cracked. A door opened down the hall and clicked shut.

  “What have you done to her?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  After jiggling the little slide lock on the ladies’ room door into place and managing not to burst into a fit of hysterics, Sofia leaned on the countertop, rocking and staring at her reflection. What was happening? And why? Was he trying to control her? Was this some sort of vampire game, some cruel and unusual ritual or something? What was he doing to her?

  She splashed water on her face. Her makeup had all but worn off hours earlier. She was fairly certain she’d sweated it off. Between the turtleneck, scarf, and suit jacket she’d had to keep on all day, three debates on the Workplace Violence Policy, and the fight with Rick she’d stood no chance of looking presentable at the end of the day.

  She untied the scarf and yanked the turtleneck away from her skin. That damn hickey was still there and it hadn’t faded even a shade. She didn’t have another turtleneck. What the hell was she going to do tomorrow?

  Calling in was not an option. What would she say? “Can’t come in. I have a hickey to beat all hickeys.” She pressed her hands to her cheeks. She’d be tempted to flat out fire herself for that stupid excuse.

  The more she stared at the bruise, the less offensive it seemed. It sort of grew on her. She’d never had a hickey like this before. She leaned closer to the mirror, swaying left to right to allow the light to hit it from different angles. Certainly little love marks had appeared on her neck from time to time, and she’d had arguments with her mother over how they got there. But nothing like this ever formed.

  She brushed her fingers over it, pressing to make the skin turn white. He made this happen. The memory of his mouth on her skin, his tongue lapping at her, his lips sealing over her flesh made her breath hitch. She’d thrown her head back and pulled him to her, thrusting her neck to him, holding his head against her. All the while riding him. Outside. In the backyard. Like a teenager sneaking around.

  And she wanted to do it again. She’d like a matching hickey on the other side and maybe a couple on her breasts and two or three on her thighs. She moaned.

  Her hands flew to her mouth. In the mirror she watched the door. Was she making a lot of noise in here? What the hell was she doing? Why did she want him to touch her like this? More importantly, why did she want to rip his clothes off and ride him hard like she hadn’t had sex in a century? Was he trying to turn her into a nympho?

  He is! She gasped. “That’s it.”

  That was why he didn’t bite her. He was some sort of sexual vampire. Was it succubus or incubus or something? That had to be it. She wasn’t a sex fiend. He was making her this way. Normally she would never want to fool around with the likes of him. She liked refined men, upstanding men, the kind you could take out in daylight.

  She rinsed her face again, fixed her collar, knotted her scarf around her neck, and prepared to meet with Dr. MacDuff. He’d explain the werewolf whispering, and then she’d tell him she no longer wanted Dragomir. She cringed.

  Not that she ever wanted Dragomir. Dr. MacDuff would understand she meant she no longer wanted him as a guard. He wouldn’t assume she meant physically or sexually. At least she didn’t think he would.

  She hobbled back to her office and found Fergus with Dr. MacDuff and Dragomir.

  “We’re closing the door for this conversation, Sofia.” Fergus held the knob and motioned for her to enter.

  Great. The cone of silence. Every room on the third floor was soundproof as long as the doors and windows were shut. It was the reason she always kept the door open when she met with Rick. Someone had to be able to hear her scream.

  “Sofia, I hear you understand werewolves.” Dr. MacDuff sat in one of the chairs opposite her desk. Fergus leaned against a file cabinet at the far end of the room and Dragomir remained seated on the windowsill.

  “It seems so. Any idea why?” Sofia walked to her desk, trying to keep her focus on Dr. MacDuff, which proved more challenging than walking in one high-heel and one flat.

  Her attention kept falling on Dragomir and the way he followed her every move. She was suddenly conscious of her purple tights. How in God’s name had she ever left the house like this?

  “No. Can’t say I do.” Dr. MacDuff rested his ankle on his knee.

  “Must just be a gift.” Sofia sat in her chair leaning on her desk. “First vampires exist, then werewolves and…” She waved her hand in the air. “…there’s a war brewing and now I’m a werewolf whisperer. What more could a girl ask for?”

  Sex with Dragomir?

  “Yes, well that sounds amusing but I’m not sure it’s appropriate,” Fergus said.

  She bit her tongue. She hadn’t answered her own question out loud, had she? “What? I…I…he…you…” She pointed at Dragomir.

  “What is it Sofia?” Dr. MacDuff frowned. He glared up at Dragomir then leaned
closer to Sofia.

  “It sounds as though she is as confused by this werewolf whispering as the rest of us.” Dragomir’s jaw muscle ticked. He shot Sofia a look that caused her to drop her hand.

  She nodded at Dr. MacDuff. “Yeah.” She covered her neck with both hands and lowered her chin onto them. “The whispering.”

  Dr. MacDuff watched her. His steady gaze made her feel as though he might be able to read her mind. She looked to Fergus.

  “You’re sure you’ve never heard of this?” she asked.

  “Positive. The only existing reference is from three thousand years ago when Folki drank from the vampire Brynhilder.” Fergus paused as though he’d heard something at the door, shook his head and continued. “The blood gave him the power to speak with the wolves.”

  Sofia wondered if he could truly hear anything beyond the door. To her understanding the entire third floor had been remodeled in 1939 to ensure for soundproof meeting rooms.

  This new job was like being inducted into a secret agency. When would she get her weapon? She tried not to giggle when the idea of her as a secret agent crossed her mind.

  “Sofia, is there anything you’d like to tell us?” Fergus asked.

  She looked at him. “Well, no. I don’t think so. I mean outside of the obvious. I’m still a bit weirded out by the vampire-werewolf situation. I’m not entirely in agreement with having guards, and I don’t ever want to attend another board meeting.” That seemed to cover most of her worries.

  The three men stared at her. No one moved. Not one reaction. Did they want more?

  “Oh, and there’s way too much violence here. I don’t like it at all.” She shuffled the files on her desk and held up the one containing multiple drafts of her policy. “But I think you know how I feel about that.”

  “Anything else?” Fergus asked.

  She was not admitting to her sexual desires for Dragomir, who smelled so damn good. That forest-y aroma wafted, not at all overpowering the soap scent, and she didn’t mind. She’d just ask what soap he used. Or maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe she’d continue guessing until she got it right. Lifeguard?

  Just the very front of his hair was clipped back this evening. The rest hung down to his shoulders. And those shoulders bulged under his t-shirt. The black cotton stretched over his muscles, leaving nothing to her imagination. His hands rested on the wood beside his legs, biceps screaming to be squeezed. His pecs flexed once or twice. Strapped to the waist of his blue jeans was a huge knife.

  Sofia shifted in her chair. She’d forgotten about the question. All she could think about was running her hands across Dragomir’s chest, then giving him a nice hickey to match hers.

  “Sofia?” Dragomir’s voice made her nipples form peaks.

  “Yes?” Her reply was so breathy even she was caught by surprise.

  “Sofia?” She jerked her gaze from Dragomir to face Dr. MacDuff. His sharp tone frightened her. “Is there anything else you want to tell us?” His stare bore into her.

  She shook her head. “No. Nothing. Not at all. Nothing. Unn-unnn.”

  “Dragomir.” Fergus glared at the vampire. His eyes were different, like an animal’s, and his personal energy roiled around him. Sofia’s mind registered a volcanic explosion with boiling hot magma shooting from its core. “Have you allowed her to feed from you?” Fergus’s voice was nearly feral. Sofia wondered if everyone else understood him.

  “No.” Dragomir rose from the windowsill. His hands hung at his sides, fingers open and ready. He faced Fergus.

  Sofia rose. “No. No he hasn’t. Why would I do that? Why would…” She couldn’t even finish the sentence. The idea of it made her stomach turn. She swallowed. “Why would I ever do that?”

  “When a vampire mates, he feeds his love to bind her.” Fergus glared at Dragomir.

  “Mate?” Sofia asked. “Mate? What? We’re not—”

  “It’s quite clear something has happened here,” Fergus spit the words through clenched teeth. Sofia wasn’t entirely sure, but she thought his face might have changed. He appeared thinner beneath his beard and his mouth seemed larger.

  She wondered if her mind was playing tricks. Was she beginning to associate any angry man with a giant mutant wolf?

  “Nothing has happened,” Sofia lied sort of. They hadn’t even done it, really.

  All three men turned to her.

  “You’re a terrible liar, my dear.” Dr. MacDuff watched her. His demeanor remained neutral, though Sofia felt something different about him.

  “I’m not lying.” She didn’t make eye contact with anyone.

  “You cling to each other.” Fergus breathed loudly, the same way a bull does as it stalks a matador.

  “Dr. MacDuff, we’re not even touching each other. And you know how I feel about this whole guard situation. This is ridiculous, and I don’t see how it has anything to do with anything.” She leaned on the edge of her desk, hands gripping the wood to keep them from shaking.

  The truth was she’d felt it. She couldn’t explain it and she really didn’t want to understand. But the moment Dragomir had appeared on the floor she felt him come to her, surrounding her, and she dove for him, holding on to his invisible presence like he was the very air she needed to survive. She felt herself reaching for him even now.

  “Dragomir, tell me what has happened.” Dr. MacDuff’s voice never rose, nor did the tone change to be anything other than calm.

  But Dragomir flinched. His fangs descended. Hands fisted. His body shook.

  “Have you tasted Sofia? Have you claimed this woman?” Dr. MacDuff continued to watch Sofia, never once looking at Dragomir.

  Dragomir dropped to his knees and fell forward onto all fours. “No.” His breathing came labored. His back rose and fell as the sounds of his struggled breathing shocked Sofia.

  “Stop it! Stop it!” Sofia rushed to Dragomir. She knelt beside him, wrapping her arm over his back. His muscles pulsed, contracting to rock hard bulges, then releasing and repeating. He groaned. Sofia looked up at Dr. MacDuff. “Leave him alone! You’re hurting him.”

  “Has he fed her? That’s the more important question,” Fergus said. “Has he broken the supreme law?”

  Dr. MacDuff stood. “Have you fed her?”

  Dragomir’s body shook, muscles vibrating. Sweat poured down his face and arms.

  Fergus grabbed a handful of Dragomir’s hair and jerked his head back. “Answer the question.”

  Dragomir’s eyes focused on Dr. MacDuff and after an unbearable silence he answered, “Yes.”

  “What?” Sofia pried Fergus’s fingers free from Dragomir’s hair. “What are you talking about? No. No. You have not.”

  Dragomir slumped back on his butt. His head lolled back on his shoulders.

  “He said that under duress. Again with the violence. He lies because you torture him,” Sofia yelled at Dr. MacDuff. “You’re worse than the wolves.” She turned to Dragomir and brushed his hair from his face. “You didn’t do that. I wouldn’t have done it. We didn’t break any laws.” She held his cheeks between her hands. “We didn’t.”

  “I did.” He closed his eyes.

  “The Supreme Law? You’re not the man everyone thinks you are,” Fergus spat the words. “You have no honor.”

  “No. No, it’s not true.” Sofia didn’t understand. She didn’t remember ever doing anything like that. She could hardly tolerate the thought of it now. Her stomach lurched. “It never happened.”

  “You don’t remember.” Dragomir opened his eyes. Something deep within his midnight blue gaze told her not to argue, not to fight.

  She nodded.

  Did she really drink vampire blood? She couldn’t remember.

  “Jankin, you know the law.” Fergus appeared behind Dragomir and from under his suit jacket pulled a stake.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Fergus stood over Dragomir, gripping a pale wooden stake in one hand and holding Dragomir by the hair with the other. “Dragomir, you have admitted to bre
aking the most supreme vampire law. This is a crime punishable by death.” The stake rose high above Dragomir and Sofia.

  She did the only thing she could think of. She lunged onto Dragomir, draping her body across his chest and locking her hand over her wrist behind him. “No!”

  Dr. MacDuff squatted beside them. “Sofia, you must remove yourself.”

  “I can’t let you kill him.” She blinked and tears trickled down her cheeks. She couldn’t let him die. Her heart ached at the thought of his death.

  There was far too much violence in this world. This couldn’t be where she belonged. But while she was here she would do her best to stop as much as she could.

  “You must. This is not an issue for you. This is a much higher rule than a simple policy.” Dr. MacDuff’s voice was not steady. It wavered and broke.

  “There are always exceptions. Why can’t this be an exception?” She straddled Dragomir, her thighs gripping his hips.

  Dragomir’s hands moved along her legs, sliding from the back of her ankles along her calves over her bent knees and up her thighs. Her skirt hiked up to her hips.

  Something began tingling inside Sofia. She caught her breath. “An exception,” she repeated. He was an exception. She knew it. An exception to several rules. She crushed her chest against Dragomir’s.

  His hands came to rest on her backside.

  “Too much risk. She exhibits signs that reveal the truth.” Fergus shifted. “She tracks and scents. She speaks to werewolves.” Fergus raised the stake once again. “Remove her, Jankin.”

  “Please. You said you’d work with me. You said you wanted Cader to be a better place. Prove it.” Sofia peered at Dr. MacDuff through the mess of hair hanging in front of her eyes.

  Dr. MacDuff closed his eyes and shook his head. “It is as it must be.” His voice was so low she barely heard him.

  Something inside her knew she had to help Dragomir. She had to prove her willingness to belong, to understand their ways in order to win them over. But she didn’t know how.

  Dragomir wasn’t a bad man. Sofia knew there was an explanation. Something wasn’t right, but she wouldn’t let him die. She’d save him now and get answers later.