Black Magic Rose Read online

  Sofia screamed. “No! No! Help!”

  Osgar was the first to reach them. “What the hell is going on in here?” He tossed aside half the broken table clearing a path to where Dragomir stood.

  “Stop it! Stop him!” Sofia yelled, scrambling to her feet. She ran at Dragomir. “Animal!” She slapped him.

  Stunned, Dragomir released his knife and stepped back. He stood beside Osgar gaping at Sofia.

  “Help him!” Sofia pointed at Rick’s neck, though she backed away from the werewolf.

  Rick yanked the knife from his neck and roared, rising to his feet to tower over Sofia, dwarfing her size so that she appeared tiny and utterly fragile beside the wolf.

  Sofia squeaked. Her mouth dropped open but not another sound escaped.

  Dragomir snapped out of the daze she knocked him into and scooped her up, carrying her out of the room and down the hall to the security office. She needed to be removed from the Lower Level. Jankin’s assertion that she’d be safest down here was completely incorrect. The simple fact remained the Lower Level was probably the most dangerous place for her. In less than two hours’ time she’d been attacked twice.

  “Put me down!” Sofia’s feet thrashed about. She punched Dragomir in the chest and shoulder and wiggled out of his grip, landing on her knees on the floor. “You are an animal!” Her voice echoed. “A Neanderthal. Don’t ever, ever pick me up again.” She pulled herself to her feet, clinging to Dragomir’s coat and wincing with each movement. When he reached to help her, she barked, “Don’t touch me.” Then she sidestepped him and marched out the door, hobbling on bruised knees and one shoe.

  Meg and the other four wolves sitting at the first bank of security screens stared up at him. Meg’s lips twitched, and Dragomir glared. The smile beginning to form on her mouth returned to a perfectly straight line.

  He spun on his heel and followed the sound of Sofia’s voice back down the hall.

  “Dr. MacDuff!” Sofia yelled. Her high heel clicked, then her stocking foot thudded. “Dr. MacDuff!”

  Dragomir measured the tenor in her voice and knew she was fighting with fear and anger. Her pitch was higher than usual, consistent with any woman on the brink of hysterics, but the hard huff that ended each shout told him wild anger bubbled just below her surface.

  “In here,” Jankin called from the conference room.

  “It’s unacceptable. Completely unacceptable!” Her voice cracked a few times. And even though she cleared her throat, she could barely contain herself. “Every issue that occurs does not require a physical response.”

  Dragomir laughed to himself. She could use some self-reflection. Apparently, she had no idea how she was reacting, no concept of her own physical response. She’d hit him three times this evening and ripped his shirt off and her scent didn’t simply waft behind her. It was as though the fragrance of raspberry and that damn flower were being piped into the Lower Level with the intent to suffocate everyone.

  What is that flower? Peony? No.

  “He is an animal!” Sofia stood in front of Jankin, pointing at the doorway where Dragomir stood. He wished she’d calm down. She was turning into a highly potent olfactory weapon. He glanced at the wolves, inspecting for drool, but though they were both focused on her, neither showed any signs of hunger.

  “Sofia, Dragomir is a warrior and he is tasked with ensuring your safety—” Jankin began only to be cut off by Sofia.

  “I do not need him to ensure my safety. I’m perfectly capable—”

  Rick growled.

  Dragomir edged closer.

  Sofia spun to face Rick and Osgar, who had also shifted to his wolf form, a security measure, Dragomir was certain. But it was clear Sofia didn’t understand. She backed straight into Jankin, her mouth hanging open.

  Dragomir smiled.

  “Stop laughing at me!” she snarled at Dragomir, and her display of anger made it nearly impossible for him to remove the smile from his face. She had no idea what she was dealing with. She stepped beside Jankin, keeping the wolves and both vampires in her line of vision. “I just haven’t seen them in this state before. It’s slightly unnerving. That’s all.” Her neck flushed and another burst of florally tangy-sweet berry puffed.

  “Lass, you are not working with humans anymore.” Jankin placed his hand on her shoulder. “You must alter your perspectives on employee relations. Otherwise, I fear you will be continually frustrated and require a guard to even meet with the staff.”

  Her eyebrows furrowed, her jaw jutted forward, and she shook her head. Dragomir wasn’t sure if she was more put out by having to change her philosophy, or the threat of having a guard with her more often.

  “Even if I change my perspective, there is still way too much violence in this workplace. He…” She jabbed her finger in Dragomir’s direction. “…stabbed a… man for no reason.”

  “He attacked you.” Dragomir stood beneath the air vent, hoping to smell something other than her damn scent.

  She glared at him. “Convenient excuse for you to act out with violence. I don’t want you with me. You’re too quick to resort to physical assaults.”

  He nodded. She might not have been wrong about that. He knew full and well he did not worry about silly human concerns. He was a warrior. Warriors could be frightening. He understood her feelings. He’d have much rather been on the front lines, leading troops into battle than in Wooddale, protecting one woman from werewolves who were supposed to be on the same side as her. And he would love for her to convince Jankin to let her have a different guard. Though he knew no one could guard her better than he. He also knew Jankin felt the same.

  “Sofia, even on the Lower Level with a skilled security team available, myself, Osgar, Fergus, Meg, and half the council, still it was Dragomir who sensed your fear before anyone else.”

  “With all due respect, Jankin. The woman screamed. The only sense required was the ability to hear.” Dragomir may have been highly skilled, but he was not a liar, and in this matter, one so important to Jankin, he would not mislead or allow anyone to think he was better than he truly was.

  “I did not scream,” Sofia argued. “Dr. MacDuff, he’s delusional. I’ll admit I was nervous, but I did not scream.”

  Dragomir shook his head. Typical. How many women had he encountered who pretended to be tough? More than he cared to remember. These were always the most dangerous, always getting themselves into trouble and never admitting their own fault in the matter.

  Jankin raised an eyebrow. “Nevertheless, it was Dragomir who responded to your need. He is the best guard for you.” Jankin’s voice remained calm, not even a hint of emotion.

  Dragomir had heard this tone before, knew it well, and was surprised to hear Jankin use it now. It was the one he employed when dealing with other masters, other vampires he could not control, in situations requiring extreme diplomacy.

  “But… I…” she glared at Dragomir, then turned to Jankin. “Why can’t Osgar train me like he does the wolves? Why can’t I learn to defend myself? Then I wouldn’t need a guard at all.”

  “Sofia, you could never be a match for any werewolf or vampire.” Jankin glanced down at her. “Even with a bodyguard you’ve managed to be attacked in the building. There is no training in the world that could make you able to compete with the likes of one of us.”

  Dragomir had to agree. In fact, he was fairly certain that any amount of knowledge in this area would make her dangerous. She already possessed more confidence than she should. If she had any sense, she’d ask Jankin to send her away to a remote, well-guarded safe haven. She’d go on a lifelong vacation.

  “I didn’t say I’d be a match, but I’d at the very least know what to expect and have some ability to defend myself, deter an attacker. It can only help, especially if you all insist on becoming violent with every conversation. If I’d known what Jefferson could do, I’d have been better prepared and never been caught in that situation. If I’d known this…” She waved toward the wolves. “…
could happen, I’d have…well, I’d have done something.” She rubbed her nose and smudged the ink over her clean cheek.

  Jankin nodded. “I think you’re correct, lass. You do need some skill to help you. What kind of employer would I be if I didn’t teach you what you need to know?” He turned her to face the wolves. “Osgar, here’s your new recruit.” He nudged her forward.

  Osgar grinned, but judging from Sofia’s response, she didn’t read it as a welcoming smile.

  “Not like that!” She spun out of Jankin’s grasp and stood behind him. “As a human.”

  “Oh, no. The wolves train in wolf form first. The human training for this group won’t begin for several weeks,” Jankin explained. His tone was much lighter than seconds earlier. “I don’t want to wait. I should have thought of this weeks ago. You need to be conditioned for battle and not because you’ll ever go onto the field. That you will never do. But, it appears I’ve given you a job in which you’ll need battlefield strategy as well as the ability to physically endure each round with the staff.” He pursed his lips and inhaled. “Aye, you’ll need this type of training after all.” He rubbed his chin.

  “Well…” She glanced at the wolves.

  Rick growled, making it very clear she’d be in for a rough go if he were forced to take her. In Sofia’s short tenure at Cader she hadn’t endeared herself to the wolf. In fact, Dragomir was certain she’d made an enemy for life. His line of vision narrowed on the wolf.

  Rick snapped at Dragomir, baring his teeth.

  “Maybe training with the wolves isn’t the best idea,” Jankin said. He paced a few feet, scratching his beard. “Maybe I can find someone else.” He smiled. It was a smile that made his typically pleasant face appear entirely vampire.

  Rick growled.

  Dragomir snarled, his fangs cutting into his lip.

  Jankin nodded. “Dragomir will train you.”

  The room suddenly smelled like a funeral parlor that had just received a fresh delivery of floral arrangements.

  Chapter Eight

  “Perfect. Just perfect.” Sofia scrubbed the ink off her face with more gusto than required. “You are something else, girl.” She stared into the mirror, no longer focusing on the ink smudged over her nose or the rosy cheek she’d nearly rubbed down to bone. “Train me. I don’t want to be helpless. Blah. Blah. Blah.” She did her best damsel in distress imitation. “Sometimes you amaze even me.” She bandaged both her knees, using those flexi-bandages that promised to withstand hours of movement. “Well, we’ll just see how flexible you are,” she taunted the bandage box. “Can you stay on while I spend my night being trained by Vlad? I’ll bet he really is The Impaler. The real Dracula.” She jerked her jeans up, tied her sneakers, and with an angry huff, slammed her fist on the bathroom countertop as she glared at herself in the mirror one more time before walking into the bedroom.

  She left the lights off and snuck up to the window to peek out at Dragomir. He stood leaning against Osgar’s giant truck, staring up at the window. “Oooh! Just how many people have you killed, Vlad?”

  He mouthed something.

  “Can you hear me?” she whispered.

  He nodded.

  “It is completely inappropriate for you to eavesdrop on my conversations! You’re a miscreant.” She stomped toward the door, yelling, “Have you no manners? No respect?” She clomped down the stairs, half shouting and half mumbling. “Disrespectful. Inhuman. Dead. What next?” She threw open the door.

  He hadn’t moved from his spot behind the truck.

  She pulled on her sweatshirt and descended the steps down to her walkway. “And furthermore—” She found herself on her ass in the mulch bed.

  Dragomir glanced at her from the same place she’d last seen him.

  “You did that on purpose! What was the point? Obviously, you can knock me down. Just about any one of you can knock me down. Did that make you happy?” She stood up and dusted off her backside. “How is that supposed to help me? What? Is there a certain technique to landing on one’s ass that will save me from a werewolf attack? Frankly—”

  She was on her ass again, and he was back at the truck when she looked up.

  This time when she got up, she didn’t bother to say a word. Instead, she marched over to the truck and punched him straight in the gut, sending him doubling over.

  “My hand. My God that hurt!” She shook her hand and hopped up and down. “What the hell do you have on under your coat?”

  Dragomir stood up, clutching his abdomen. “Nothing.” He coughed and gasped. “You’ve got a good power punch. Let’s see what else you can do.” He stepped back and circled her.

  “I think my hand is broken. I must have hit your belt buckle.” Sofia opened her hand and stretched her fingers, then tried curling them back, but stopped midway due to the pain throbbing in her knuckles.

  “I am not wearing a belt and stop whining.” He removed his coat and tossed it into the open truck window. “Do you think a thirsty vampire will wait for you to ice your hand? What else can you do?” He disappeared into a shadow.

  “Where the hell are you? What else can I do? Nothing. I didn’t even know I could do that. Had I known, I’d have punched you in the head and knocked you out, then called the police to have you removed from the property. No. Maybe I’d have called Rick to come get you. Yes, that’s what I’d have—” She fell on her ass again.

  “You know, bruises do form on butt cheeks. And I did not hear Dr. MacDuff say anything about knocking me down every chance you got.” She climbed to her feet but didn’t bother to dust herself off.

  “Where are you?” She couldn’t see him at all. Oh, but she could feel him. She knew he was watching her from not too far away, trying to stare into her. “Cut the crap. I can feel that and I don’t like it. Have you ever heard of sexual harassment?”

  He laughed and not just a single chuckle. It was a full belly laugh that echoed in the night.

  He was standing not three feet from her.

  “Sexual harassment is not a laughing matter.” Sofia turned to her right to slap him.

  But before her hand made contact with his face his fingers curled around her wrist. His laughing stopped. “I was not sexually harassing you. I have never mistreated a woman in all my years. And I have no intent to begin now.” His breath was warm on her face.

  He pulled her closer to him, pressing her body to his and slowly twisting her arm behind her back. It didn’t hurt at all as long as she didn’t fight him.

  She stared up into his face. From this proximity she saw the crescent-shaped moon reflecting in his dark pupils. His eyes weren’t black. They were the darkest blue she’d ever seen, easily as dark as the midnight sky. Long black eyelashes made his eyes appear gentler than she’d ever noticed, almost human.

  She assumed from the bump on the bridge of his thin nose that it had been broken at one time. His face was shaved smooth, and she was tempted to press her finger to the deep dimple centered in his chin.

  A mild breeze blew and his hair danced across her face.

  She closed her eyes and inhaled. The woodsy scent of autumn, crisp evergreens, and mossy forest mixed with dewy grass flooded her mind. It was a pleasant aroma, one that made her think of home, of all the years she’d spent in the woods hiking and photographing animals, bird watching.

  But that other scent was there, too. Clean, but artificial. Soap.

  She sniffed. What is that? Lever? No.

  Dragomir released her arm. “I think you’ve had enough of a break. Back to work. What else can you do?” He stepped away from her, once again vanishing into a shadow.

  Sofia stumbled back from him, legs wobbly, arms rubbery. Damn it! Why does this keep happening? She landed on her ass once again. “Thanks a lot. Next time why don’t you just throw me down?”

  “It was not my intent that you would fall.” His voice came from behind the truck.

  She glared over her shoulder. “Right. Just like the first two times were accidents
.”

  “No. The first two times were meant to help you focus.”

  “So, let me understand this. You think by knocking a woman on her ass you’re helping her focus? Also, you do know that knocking a woman down is typically considered mistreating her, don’t you?” She shook her head but managed to get to her feet and remain standing in spite of the fact that she was pretty sure both kneecaps had melted into gelatin.

  “I do not claim to know what helps every woman focus. I simply know that you seem to focus best when on your ass. And, it’s not mistreating you when—”

  “What?” Sofia’s voice was caught between a shriek and a growl and she didn’t know which part was more upsetting—that she was acting like a silly girl or turning into an animal.

  “In every situation that has occurred, I’ve found you on your ass. It seems this is the best position from which you should learn to defend yourself.”

  She couldn’t tell if he was serious or if this was some sort of joke.

  “Isn’t the whole idea of this training to help me avoid landing on my ass in the first place?” Was she the only one with any logical thought process?

  “That would make sense if I thought you could avoid it.” His voice came from right beside her and down she went.

  She bounced back up and spun toward where she heard his voice, then promptly landed on her ass again. She clenched her teeth, and for a split second, considered going back into the house to call Dr. MacDuff. Training was turning into a night of fun torment for Dragomir with her ass well on its way to becoming so sore she was certain she wouldn’t be able to sit at her desk in the morning.

  “I’m calling—”

  Down again.

  “Your other option is the wolves. I am fairly certain you will not survive a trip off the roof,” his voice called from the distance.

  “Where are you?” She stood up then went down again.

  “That is for you to discover,” he whispered in her ear and then vanished.

  “How the hell am I supposed to discover where you are if I can’t see you? Damn vampires.” She stood up again, knowing she was going down, but also aware Dragomir was correct. She wouldn’t survive a trip off the roof, and she knew Rick would ensure she’d take one.