Draven's Crossing: Tempestuous Crossings Page 4
She tried to shove it back, but that made it worse. The slow, burning fire inside blazed stronger. Sucking in a breath, she ignored the longing and glanced toward the doorway. “Are we having dinner or not?”
The butler from before appeared in the entryway. “Sir? I’m sorry to disturb you, but there’s an important phone call for you, and they say they won’t wait.”
Draven sighed. “Duty calls. If the call goes too long or I have to leave, I’ll have the chef put together a plate for you to take home. Be right back.”
He bent down and kissed her cheek before leaving the room. The moment he released her, she felt the loss. It was as if he’d taken the heat with him.
Despite the fire, she hugged herself, rubbing her arms and crossing her legs at the ankle, unsure of what to do. She brought the glass of wine to her lips, ready to take a sip, but moved it away. With a shake of her head, she looked around for a place to set it down. The alcohol held no appeal. What had once been used as a distraction or means to relax her had lost something in Draven’s absence. She didn’t want to admit that it had been used as a wall and grounding point.
She swallowed hard and scanned the room filled with antique furniture. Unlike Draven’s office, this space looked like it had been decorated by someone with a taste in antiques. Heavy armoires, side tables, couches and chairs overflowed in every nook and cranny. The dark wood made the room feel cold and aloof. There was a weight in the air that made it hard to breathe, stifling the space around her. The furniture looked clean enough, not a mote of dust floating in the air anywhere. Not seeing an empty space for her glass, she put it on a side table near the fireplace. As she wandered around the room, she felt like an intruder. Her heels clicked on the dark hardwood floor. There wasn’t even a small rug to dampen the sound.
“Oh, you must be his new play toy,” a high pitched, twittery voice uttered from the far side of the room.
Turning her head, she caught sight of a curvaceous brunette standing in the doorway decked out in furs and silk. Long strands of diamonds hung around her neck catching the light of the overhead chandelier. Inky, black hair was piled high atop her head with curling tendrils framing a diamond shaped face with delicate features. A cruel smile curled her bright red lips. The woman strolled gracefully across the room and held out a gloved hand. “Ileana.”
Rose accepted the handshake. “Rose.”
The woman’s grip was loose, insulting, and lasted a few seconds. A sense of disgust rose up within her.
“Rose,” the woman purred with a foreign tinge to her tone. “Such a sweet name.”
Instead of focusing on the veiled insult, she turned her attention to something else in the room. “I’m not his plaything or girlfriend. I’m the head of the advertising campaign for the masquerade ball he’s pushing to be held in town.”
Rose retrieved her wine glass and took a sip, ignoring that it had warmed by the fire.
“Of course you’re not his girlfriend. I am. Well, fiancée, but such trivialities don’t need to be observed. He’s mine.” The claim was obviously a warning to back off and not get any ideas. Rose doubted what the woman said was true. Draven didn’t seem like the type of man—regardless of rumors—to cheat on a significant other, much less allow himself to be tied down to anyone in anyway. Which suited her just fine. One more reason to ignore whatever attraction she had for him.
“I don’t want him.” She took another sip of her wine and looked around. The room seemed to have gotten smaller since Ileana arrived.
A pained laugh filled the air. “Don’t be ridiculous, girl. All women want Draven.”
“I’m sorry, honey, business called me…Ileana. What are you doing here?” Draven’s sullen tone said it all. “I was told you’d be out of town for the rest of the month. Have you decided to move up negotiations with the town? I have the building plans for that mall your family wants built on the other side of town in the Paon Vert district ready.”
He slid into the room, giving Ileana a wide berth before settling beside Rose. His arm wrapped around her waist. For a second, she flinched and began to move away. He squeezed. A glance up at his face showed his features were hard with an angry glint in his eyes.
Ileana’s displeasure was clear. Disgust flashed on her face before disappearing behind a smooth façade. A smile that didn’t show in her eyes curled on her lips. There was a lack of warmth or triumph in her expression. “No, I just got back tonight. I wanted to come here straight away, see if you were free for dinner.”
She clasped her hands behind her back, pushing out her large chest. The diamonds sparkled in the light with each breath she took.
“No. I’m not free for dinner. If you want an appointment, call my office.” Draven’s body relaxed next to her. “If you’ll excuse us, we haven’t had dinner.”
He squeezed Rose’s side again before removing his arm. Grasping her hand, he led her out of the room, leaving Ileana alone.
Rose tried not to feel smug, but couldn’t help it. He’d chosen her.
“I’m sorry about that. Ileana is the daughter of one of Draven’s Crossing’s most prominent vampire families. She believes herself to be my perfect match.” Draven’s grip on her hand didn’t loosen. She didn’t insist that he let go, either.
“She also fancies herself your fiancée.”
A choking sound came from above her. If it were even possible, he seemed to become paler. “She said that?”
“Yup. Tried to warn me off of you.” She managed to take a sip of wine as they went, amused by the horror on his face.
His features became stony. “Who I date is none of hers or anyone else’s business. I’m not some fucking stallion needing to be paired off. Ridiculous.”
“This is a business dinner, remember? Not a date,” Rose pointed out.
He grinned. “This is a date to me.”
“You’re delusional. This is business, plain and simple.” After taking another sip of wine, she waited for his next move. They entered a small, dimly lit room. Candles flickered on a circular table. A fire burned in the hearth. The atmosphere spoke of seduction, not business. “Draven—”
“I just love how you say my name,” he murmured next to her ear.
She jerked back, shocked at how close he’d gotten without making a sound.
“And this is a date. In my mind, I’m seducing you.”
“We said—”
“That was before that woman came here trying to stake her claim on me.” Draven pressed a kiss to her temple, heating her skin and causing her heart rate to spike. She sucked in a breath. “I’m all yours. Remember that.”
Draven pulled away. This time the heat didn’t leave with him. Instead, it remained, spreading through her body like a gentle wave. Pushing back as much desire as she could, Rose straightened up. “You know, Mayor, this could be seen as going back on a promise. As a voter, I’d find that very hard to forget.”
He chuckled. “Ouch. But you don’t work for me. You’re working the ad campaign, and as for the voter aspect, I’m sure you can overlook this.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a charmer.”
“I’m sorry again, sir, there’s another call for you.” The butler entered the room and went directly to Draven. With heads bent together, they spoke in low tones. Draven’s face hardened. Anger flashed in his eyes, and his whole body went rigid.
“Son of a bitch. Get the fucking police chief now, and dial Jagger, too, and have Hamilcar meet me at the office. This shit has to stop. I’m sorry, honey. Dinner has to be postponed. Something’s come up.” He ran a hand through his hair and let out a heavy sigh. His lips thinned until all she saw was the seam of his mouth. Nostrils flaring and fists clenched, he headed out of the room. “Put a plate together for, Rose,” he barked as he left.
She was left alone. Again, the heat left the room, and she felt a sense of loss and worry. Something was wrong. Her stomach pitched, and she felt nauseous. Rose couldn’t fathom the sudden anxiousness that
rose within her. Worry for Draven began to grow. Shaking her head, she waited for someone to come back and get her. The goons from before appeared at the doorway and nodded to her.
“Time to go,” Mr. Black said.
All she could do was follow them, wondering what had happened to cause Draven to call that many people to his office. Has to be something bad.
Chapter Four
Draven paced in his office, gritting his teeth. The predatory instinct to hunt and tear something apart pushed at his civilized veneer. His blood boiled. First, he was informed that they had found a body. Now he was being pulled away from Rose again; this time they’d found two more, all with bite wounds similar to a vampire’s. His fists clenched. The urge to punch something grew by the second. He looked around the room and took in each person gathered around the conference table.
“I want answers and I want them now. I expect to get a call from the Council any minute demanding some sort of answer. What the fuck am I supposed to tell them? Yeah, I have a rogue vampire on the loose, feeding on humans, and I have no leads whatsoever. That’s just asking for them to send someone to check on me and police this town themselves.” Draven grunted, hating that he felt helpless.
“Sir, this could be a move against you. Have you thought of that?” Jagger pointed out.
“Of course. I’ve upped the protection around those I care about.” His thoughts drifted to Rose, wondering if two security officers were enough. The idea that she wouldn’t be safe made him physically ill. Pushing that aside, he focused on the task at hand. “What did the coroner say?”
“The victims died of exsanguinations via the puncture marks on the neck. They look like bite marks, but he’s not sure. Said the entry wounds were too jagged, not smooth like most vampire bites. Also, the wounds were bleached clean of DNA and the bodies washed of anything that might link them back to the sick freak responsible. The victims are two females and one male. No evidence of sexual activity, either. Witnesses around the areas say they’ve never seen them before. The clothing was all generic; tags were ripped off, but we’re having the fibers analyzed to see if they can tell what social strata they’re from. We’ve checked the in-town database; no pings yet, but we’ll keep looking,” Police Chief and top alpha werewolf, Torger, rattled off.
Draven clenched his jaw. He didn’t like it. His stomach rolled in disgust. “No leads. Nothing.”
The shrill ring of the phone filled the air, and he swore. “The fucking Council is summoning me. Why do I feel like I’d rather face an hour of watching television white screen rather than listen to them berate me?”
With a sigh, he ducked around the desk and answered the call. “Draven, speaking. How may I be of service today, Councilman?”
The voice on the other end was a graveled one, so deep it was almost hard to hear his words clearly. “Draven, we’ve been informed of three deaths, human to be exact. Explanation?”
He hated the dry tone to the man’s voice, as if he was talking about the weather instead of the loss of three lives. Clearing his throat, he tried to sound as distant. “It appears to be the work of a rogue vampire, but there is nothing definite. I’ll have the coroner send over her findings.”
“Fine. We’re looking forward to having this wrapped up quickly. May God bless you. I pray this isn’t the work of a vampire, truly I do.” With that parting, the Councilman hung up, leaving Draven with a bitter taste in his mouth.
“Asshole. The Council doesn’t want God to bless us. They think we’re all demons from Hell who deserve to be put down.” After slamming the receiver onto the cradle, he turned back to the people assembled in the room. “Move quickly. We need answers before they send a Fixer. Once their person is on the ground, there’ll be more bloodshed. They don’t give a fuck who gets hurt so long as the end justifies the means.”
With a wave of his hand, he dismissed his people. After digging his cell phone out of his pocket, he hit speed dial and waited for the other end to be picked up. “Did she make it home okay? Any problems?”
“No, sir. She’s fine,” Flavio murmured.
“Good, I’ll be over in a few minutes.” The craving to connect with someone outside of politics started in his gut and moved up to his chest. He wanted to hold her, reassure himself that she was fine. They’d known each other a short time, yet he felt tied to her, enjoyed the verbal sparring and her defiance of him. A smile quirked his lips when he remembered walking into the room when Ileana had been there. It had felt right to have her by his side. Now, he wanted that connection and to continue the dinner that had been interrupted.
“Sir, should we set up a perimeter? Call more security?” Flavio asked.
“No, you two should be good for now. I’ll pick up some food on the way. Don’t tell her I’m coming. I want it to be a surprise.” Draven hung up the phone before Flavio could protest.
He wondered what she’d answer the door in. Lingerie? Pajamas? Or maybe just her underwear. Either way he didn’t care. Whatever she wore, he was sure she’d look sexy in it. His blood heated, and the remnants of need from their interaction earlier surfaced. An ache began in his gums as his fangs descended, poking his bottom lip. Marshalling his control, he pushed away the desire to feed and grabbed his jacket.
Once he left the office, he extended his aura outward searching for any possible threats. There were no signs of life, human life that is. A cat padded delicately across the lawn. The sharp cry of a hawk pierced the night’s calm. He felt a sense of peace descend on him. Night was his time. Their time. This was when the supernatural creatures were at their height of power. They owned this moment of the day.
A howl filled the air, followed by others. A glance up at the moon showed it wasn’t full yet.
He headed for his car, continuing to keep an eye out. His security detail moved silently around him to form a large circle. They wouldn’t interfere with his plans; Hamilcar wouldn’t allow that. The tattoo on his forearm burned, the link he used to call forth his black dragon, head of security. It rippled against his skin, and he sucked in a breath. Fire seeped up his arm raising goose bumps in its wake.
Hamilcar appeared before him, as usual, swathed from head to toe in black. “Did you need me?”
“No, just remembering you have my back. Any word?” Draven felt stupid having this discussion standing on the front steps leading up to the Mayor’s office, but he wanted to make sure that there would be no interruptions once he was with Rose.
“None. We’re working as fast as we can on this.” Hamilcar bowed his head.
“Thank you. If at all possible, I don’t want anyone to disturb me, understand?” He waited, knowing he was asking for the impossible.
“We shall try, sir, but there is nothing to guarantee that something won’t happen.”
With a sigh, he nodded. “I know.”
Hamilcar disappeared into the night, and Draven headed for his car. He offered up a prayer to whatever gods were listening to let him have this moment with Rose. After a few stops at some of his favorite restaurants that were still open, he had gathered a small feast of meats, cheeses and wine, with a chocolate pie for dessert. A few minutes later, he pulled up in front of her apartment building, checking the address on his iPhone again to make sure he had it right. Flavio met him in the parking garage.
“Sir, I really wish you’d requested her presence at your home. This is unsafe and ill-advised.” Flavio took off his glasses; neon green eyes flashed for a second before the sunglasses covered them again.
Draven shrugged. “I want to see her.”
“You’re making her more of a target than she already is,” he pointed out.
“I know.” He sighed. “I just…I want to see her. Make sure she’s okay with my own eyes. Connect with her.”
He looked up at Flavio, who nodded. “I understand that. It’s just, well, this is really fucked up with that person on the loose. Want to keep her safe? Take her out of town to the lake house or back to your place.”
&n
bsp; Draven smiled at his friend, and one of his most trusted security officers. “Later, when she trusts me more. For now, I need to see her.”
“If I didn’t know any better—”
“Don’t start.”
He made his way around Flavio and took the stairs, the bottle of wine rattling with each step. By the time he reached her apartment, his stomach growled with hunger after having missed dinner. Dieter, the other security guard assigned to Rose, nodded. “Sir, I hear movement and music, an opera of some kind.”
“Thank you.” He knocked and checked the time on his watch; it was half past eleven. He didn’t doubt Rose would be pissed to find him here.
When the door opened, he found her standing there still in her green dress, shoes off and hair falling around her shoulders like a cloud of curls. Her make-up had been wiped away. She looked even more beautiful than before. His stomach tightened as hunger gnawed at his gut. Liquid heat seeped down to his groin, filling his cock. Thick with blood, the shaft lengthened and thickened, pressing against his fly. He bit down on his lip, shoving back the growing need. Unable to speak, he held up his bags.