Black Dalliances (A Blushing Death Novel) (14 page)

Chapter 14

An hour later, I sat behind Patrick’s desk at Damsel spinning my bowie knife by the blade’s tip on his glass-top desk. The grinding of metal on glass made a faint scratching sound, drilling into the top of the desk as it spun in my fingertips. I was antsy, wanting to head out and do something. Sitting behind the desk doing nothing was driving me bat-shit-crazy. I couldn’t even imagine how Patrick had coped behind this desk in the years since we’d met. A newfound respect settled in my gut as I finally understood what it took for Patrick to let me go off every time I went into battle and remain behind where he couldn’t keep me safe. I sighed and turned the blade again, feeling the screech all the way up my arm as the sound shivered along my bones.

No one had argued with me when I took Patrick’s seat behind the desk, not even Alex. She was perched on the corner of his desk like always, as if he was sitting behind the overly large glass structure instead of me. She watched the light glimmer off the blade as it spun.

“You need a hobby,” Alex murmured, running her hands through her purple hair. Her foot dangled over the edge of the desk, swinging back and forth in the same nervous time I tapped my foot beneath the desk.

The bass from the club below thumped at my feet, vibrating the soles of my boots. It was at least 45 minutes before last call but it felt so much later as if I’d been up for years.

“She’s got a hobby,” Kurt snorted. “You’re looking at it.” A smile turned up the corners of his mouth.

Kurt was German, actually German, as in he came over from Germany a hundred and fifty years ago when he’d first shifted and felt he was a danger to his family. He’d thought the wide-open spaces of the plains would be safer. Ha, ha.

“She has other hobbies, too,” Dean said, glancing over at Kurt with a conspiratorial smile.

“Yeah. Complaining, ordering people around, being a general pain in the ass,” Kurt finished with a grin.

They were trying to lighten the mood and I just wanted to kill something. What does that say about me? I glared over at the clock as it clicked over to 1:05 a.m. Saeran was late.

“Where is he?” I growled under my breath.

“He’ll be here,” Dean said.

Saeran would be here if Dean had to drag his ass out of Faerie and present him like a birthday cake. I smiled, knowing that the man across the room would move Heaven and Earth if I asked him. Deep down, I knew Patrick would, too.

“What’s going on down there?” Alex said, peering down to the club below.

It always made me nauseous to look through the Plexiglas floor, like staring down through a glass bottom boat with people moving around and strobe lighting. Not a good combination.

“What is it?” I asked, keeping my gaze on my knife. “Is it Saeran?”

“NO,” Dean growled.

The gruff rumble of his threat drew my attention, snapping my head up like a switchblade. A cluster of people stood at the door to the stairs. Nova held off a tiny woman, refusing to let her up. I stood and circled the desk to get a better view, ignoring the queasy feeling in my stomach.

The tiny, dark-haired woman in a blue halter dress stood in five-inch heels and was giving Nova hell. She wanted up to Patrick’s office but Nova wasn’t budging. I narrowed in on her neck and the two bite marks I knew were there whether I could see them or not. Rage blistered through my body, and I gripped the knife in my fist.

Nova glanced up at the Plexiglas floor when he couldn’t keep her from creating a scene.

“Let her up,” I said.

Kurt opened the door and trudged down the stairs, never once questioning the sanity of what I wanted him to do. Through the floor, I saw him tap Nova on the shoulder and whisper in the vampire’s ear. Nova gawked up at the reflective Plexiglas again, shrugged his shoulders in defeat, and stepped out of the way. He raised his hands in the air like he wanted no part of it but followed her up just the same.

She barreled by him and over Kurt as she turned the corner. The hard clunk of platform heels echoed on the stairs and I made my way back behind the desk. All of the muscles in my body tensed, my heart slowed, and my mind cleared as the heat of jealousy burned, bubbling like acid in my gut.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Dean asked.

I glared at him, letting him see my determination.

He sat back without questioning me again.

I spun the knife by the blade tip again. A little melodramatic maybe but I felt better with each pass of the knife’s sharp edge.

Iris burst through the door, slamming it against the wall. No one dared move.

“Patrick, that lackey of yours told me I couldn’t come up here,” she said in a huff before she realized Patrick wasn’t behind the desk. Flinging her dark hair over her shoulder, she stood defiant just inside the door. She cocked her hip and glared at me.

Kurt followed her in and shut the door behind him. The soft click of the lock echoed through the office and made the silence dangerous. Nova flanked Kurt on the other side of the door.

“Oh,” she said, scowling, “it’s you.”

I turned cold eyes up to meet hers but she watched the spinning blade between my fingers with a blank expression. She was either too stupid to be scared, too naïve, or too confident.

“Where’s Patrick?” she asked Alex with a sharp, demanding tone that sounded too much like an order for my liking.

What the hell had been going on here?

Alex bristled at the command and her icy power prickled across my skin. Her small feminine hands balled into fists on the desk and her shoulders squared. Alex’s disapproval of this woman made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Patrick is no longer your concern,” I said, my voice cold and even. My words carried an edge of menace that even I heard.

“The hell he isn’t. I’m his girlfriend,” she said with indignation.

Kurt choked back a laugh behind her. “I’m sorry,” he said, trying to straighten his face and wipe the smile from his lips.

I glared at him, showing him the monster behind my eyes.

“My apologies, Eithina,” he repeated, bowing his head with the smile finally gone.

I turned my gaze back to Iris and her flippant attitude. She had no idea how dangerous we could be. How dangerous
I
could be.

“You’re food, and you’re done here,” I finally said after a few long, uncomfortable moments of silence.

“What are you talking about? I’m not going anywhere until I talk to Patrick,” she snapped at me.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. You’re leaving now,” I growled.

She stumbled back a step, seeing the danger in my gaze and finally hearing the threat in my voice.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” she said but her voice quaked.

“I can, and I’m telling you to get out. Don’t call Patrick. Don’t email him. Don’t show up at any of his clubs or anywhere you think he’s going to be. You’d be safer to leave the state. Change your name because if I ever see you again . . .” I said, taking the knife handle in my grip. “I’ll kill you myself.”

“Threatening people again?” Saeran said, stepping through the door I hadn’t heard him open.

His shimmering green skin sparkled as the light hit it and his hair flowed freely down his back, reflecting all of the colors of a field of wild flowers. His nephew Fergal, whose bronze skin was like a shiny new penny and covered a firm muscled body, was a warrior. Catching sight of Iris in the midst of the monsters, his glamour floated over him before she had a chance to turn her head. Wild magic flooded the room, prickling along my skin. Beside me and still perched on the desk, Alex shivered and raised her chin.

Following behind Saeran, aware and meeting my glare, Fergal closed the door behind them. “At least this one isn’t bleeding yet,” Saeran said with a teasing smile. His eyes darted from me to Iris and back again. A questioning purse of his lips the only indication of his interest.

“Not yet,” I stated. The growl in my tone rumbled through the room with my anger, my anxiety, and my warning.

The Fae were too armed and too well trained for me to relax. I didn’t know Saeran well enough for teasing but evidently, everyone else seemed to know him. Saeran and my people had gotten much closer in my absence. None of them tensed when he entered. I did.

I turned hardened eyes up to Saeran. He was late. I was pissed and didn’t have the time to waste.

“You sit,” I ordered. The Fae King gave me a questioning glance, raising his eyebrows in surprise. He sat just the same. I turned back to the bitch in the middle of the room. “You, get out.”

She cocked her hip and opened her mouth to disagree.

“Nova!” I ordered.

He stepped forward from the wall and took her by the bicep.

“She leaves now. She does
not
come here again. Whoever lets her in, answers to me. Do you understand?” I snarled through clenched teeth.

Nova nodded and snatched Iris up by the arm. He jerked her a little too hard with a look of pleasure in his dark blue eyes as she stumbled. I guess Nova didn’t like her either.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Nova said with a smirk. “I did miss you.”

“Hey, let go of me,” Iris protested. “Patrick is going to kill you for this.”

“Actually, honey, he won’t. Patrick might even thank me one day.” Nova dragged her toward the door by her arm. Her platform heels scraped across the Plexiglas as she fought against his hold. Nova leaned down to her ear and said, “You’re leaving with all your fingers and toes. You’re not bleeding either. Go, if you know what’s good for you. Go, and don’t come back.” He shoved her out the door. Turning back to the room with a quick smile, he nodded. “Thank you. The Blushing Death has returned.” He closed the door behind him.

“Here, here,” Alex cooed. “I don’t particularly like the cuddlier more approachable you,” she said, exaggerating a shiver. “It sets my teeth on edge.”

“Let’s get down to business.” Standing from behind the desk, I ignored their comments and circled around the front. The same route I’d seen Patrick take a thousand times.

“I missed her,” Kurt whispered with a wistful tone in his voice.

“Enough.” I rolled my eyes. “Saeran, we have a problem,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest, while Kurt moved three silent steps to block the door. Saeran and Fergal weren’t going anywhere.

“Oh?” Saeran asked with a quick glance over his shoulder toward Kurt and their blocked exit and his glamour faded. One moment his skin was a pale pink and the next, the moss green I’d come to think of as normal shimmered back into existence.

“I have a message for you. I believe it was
your little miracle is waiting for you
.”

He paled, if that was possible. His skin turned a sallow mint green and his mouth fell open. His shoulders tensed and a nonexistent wind blew his hair softly about his face.

“Does that mean something to you?” I asked.

“Where’s Patrick?” Fergal asked, clutching the bow in his grip.

Smart boy.

“She took him, your Little Miracle,” I bit out.

“Was she all right?” Saeran asked. Desperation made his question hurried and his voice quake. His concern for the Petite Princess and not Patrick pissed me off.

“She seemed just fine as she snatched Patrick into Faerie at the edge of a saber. She had a Cossack with her.”

Both Saeran and Fergal glared at me, surprise widening their gazes.

“Likho,” Saeran whispered.

My body went rigid as the familiar name bounced around my brain. That other voice growled inside my head as my blood pressure pounded through my brain. This wasn’t good.

Likho . . . Likho. I’d heard it before.

“What did you say?” Alex asked.

“Nothing,” Saeran answered, shaking his head.

“Likho,” I whispered. I met Saeran’s cautious daffodil-yellow gaze and guarded expression.

“Who is she? Your Little
Miracle
?” I asked, suddenly very interested in what Saeran wasn’t sharing.

“Milagra,” he answered. “Her name is Milagra.” His face softened as he spoke of her. “Riona and I never had children,” he said almost to himself.

“It is extremely difficult for our kind to procreate,” Fergal offered.

“I bought her from her father when she was seven,” he said, sorrow crinkling his brow and slumping his usually broad shoulders.

“You bought her?” I asked, appalled.

“Her father was going to abandon her because of what she was. I traded Milagra for a charm. She was so young and blameless for what happened to her. Her father, however, abhorred what she had become.” The words ground out of him. “She couldn’t stop what had killed her mother and turned her into a lycan.” Saeran shook his head, staring down at his hands, twisting his fingers together in painful knots.

My stomach churned as realization crashed into my consciousness. I knew exactly where I’d seen the lovely Milagra before. She was the spitting image of her mother, Juliana Salazan. Cordero Salazan’s dead wife.

Cordero Salazan had sold his soul to Marabelle, a crazy Barbie-esque vampire in Las Vegas. He’d become her servant after his wife had been killed in a werewolf attack. He’d finally confessed how he’d sold his daughter for the Fae charm that allowed him to travel away from his vampire master. He’d been hunting and killing every werewolf he could find to wipe them from the planet. I’ll say one thing for Cordero, he’d been dedicated. Crazy. But dedicated.

“Cordero Salazan,” I growled.

Saeran’s eyes jetted up to meet mine.

“His name was Cordero, yes. How did you know?” Saeran asked, almost horrified.

“I met him once. I didn’t like him.”

“He was driven mad by his hatred and grief. So much so that he didn’t want his own daughter,” Saeran said with visible remorse. “We loved her, Riona and I. She was strong, so much stronger than her father gave her credit.”

Fergal rested his hand on his uncle’s shoulder in support.

“What happened to her?” Dean asked.