“Sven,” she crooned, looking past the guards that sat in a crumpled heap next to her office door. Palmer stood, rolling the sleeves of his white tunic down, blood dripping from his hands as he shot her a glare before shaking his head.
“Eh, boss?”
“Send some of your men to fetch Conan. Tell him I need to see him immediately. I have a job offer that I think he will fancy.”
“We could send more ghouls,” he countered.
“No, no, I think they’ve failed enough. I need Conan. Get him for me.”
“Of course, m’lady,” Palmer replied.
Satisfied with herself, Dahlia turned on her black stiletto heel and retreated back to her desk, leaving the door open.
“Oh, and Palmer?” she called.
“Eh?”
“Send him in as soon as he arrives. The throne cannot wait and neither can I.” She winked, making Palmer’s colorless face flush.
Palmer
Palmer meandered through the Underground, listening to the sounds of cheers, fights and moans echo through the air. Coins glistened in the low light, passing from hand to hand as he walked under cream-colored arches filled with gamblers. Smoke hung in the air, dancing from lit cigarillos, giving the pits a smoggy look. Turning the corner, Palmer nodded, with a smile spread across his lips, to vagabonds as he descended a flight of stairs leading to the holding cells. The biting scent of sweat and excrement wafted to Palmer’s nose, churning his stomach. For a ghoul, he never could stomach the unsavory smells of the ring.
Wolves in different transformation phases snarled and shouted at him, their eyes glowing in the low lit dungeon. The tang of copper filtered into the stench as Sven waddled up to the last cage on his right.
Darkness shrouded the cell, hiding the wolf contained within. Palmer smirked and pulled a baton from his trouser loop, clinking it against the bars, further agitating the deadly creatures. Dark curls cascaded over the wolf’s face, hiding it from view, but Palmer knew who he was and how to goad him. Blood seeped from long gashes in the wolf’s chest as the clanging on the bars grew deafening. Wolves screeched and howled at Palmer, spitting curses in dual tongues, but he ignored them.
“Get up, dog!” Sven snarled. “Your master awaits.” One blue piercing eye glared at him through dark strands, sending a shiver down the kingpin’s spine.
“An Alpha has no master. He listens to no man.”
“Ah, I think our mistress would think differently, don’t you?” The pungent man laughed. Claws grew at the tips of the wolves’ fingers, his back hunched as he rose to full height, towering over Palmer.
“Leave her out of it,” the male snarled back.
“Tsk, tsk.” Palmer wagged a portly finger back and forth. “I don’t think so, Conan.” Palmer turned, calling for two guards to go in and shackle the wolf in silver, nullifying his ability to transition. Two ghoul guards, both in different stages of decay, quietly obliged and the one closest to Palmer fumbled with his keys before the cell door slid open and they both entered. Palmer’s fingers slid around the cool bars, pulling the door shut.
Conan lunged at the ghouls, teeth bared, pinning one to the wall with one hand around the guard’s neck as the other fought to get him off. Palmer stood silent. He loved watching mayhem ensue, even if it was at his guard’s expense.
“Quit dicking around, you sons of bitches!” he hollered. “Fucking cuff the dog and get out!” The free guard fumbled with his belt, alas grappling a silver stake between his gloved hands and fashioned it at the wolf’s spine.
“Drop the guard,” his slimy voice slithered. The wolf eyed up the guard and his eyes widened as realization set in. Do as he was told or be staked. The wolf let out a growl and dropped the guard who grabbed at his own neck as if to fight off phantom fingers. “Kneel on the ground, dog, splay your hands on the back of your head. And if you fucking move, you worthless piece of shit, I’ll fucking stake you.” Palmer smiled. This was delicious, more than he’d anticipated. He knew shit would hit the proverbial fan when he addressed his boss’s dog, but he wasn’t sure how far the wolf would go before getting ‘put down’. The guard with the stake walked to Conan’s side, handing the stake over to the weaker guard and grabbed his silver handcuffs slinging them around the werewolf’s wrists. The wolf’s skin sizzled and turned red where the silver had touched, slowly burning the wolf down to the bone. He cuffed the other hand and helped Conan to his feet.
“Open the door,” the ghoul commanded, and though Palmer could have reprimanded him for his demanding tone, he let the mishap slide and opened the door. They ushered Conan out, grasping a hold of his elbows.
“Clean him up,” Palmer ordered. “Then take him to Mistress Dahlia.” Palmer walked two paces past the wolf before turning and hitting the backside of his legs with his baton. Conan’s knees buckled beneath him, hitting the concrete floors with a crack. The wolf behind Palmer howled out in pain, rearing against his captors as he snapped at the ghoul. “And if you let on to her that I’ve been holding you, that you’ve been with me, I’ll make sure you never speak again,” he hissed before walking back down the hall of cells.
19
Rose
Heat blossomed on her cheeks and along her neck as Rose paced the hall, trying to calm her mind after spending so many hours in Gavin’s room with Ollie. Her mind whirled, trying to process the news of her recent engagement and she found that her eyes wouldn’t close for a wink of sleep. She stopped, rubbing at her stinging eyes; her body tired as she let out a yawn.
Ollie had offered to stay with her, a bold statement as he’d just been decked hours before. Rose knew that if he’d stayed in her chambers, she wouldn’t be able to help herself. They’d shared a moment in the forest. A moment that was burned into her memory. Rose bit at her lip, her body reacting to the memory of Ollie on her, inside of her. She shook her head and stared at the ruby carpet beneath her bare feet. Her ears rang in the eerie silence the castle wing had taken on, humming loud enough to distract her sultry thoughts.
A creak from behind snapped Rose’s attention away from Ollie, away from the news, just… away. She turned on her heel, catching a glimpse of a shadowy being emerging from the low lit hall.
“Rosalie Coston,” a cool female voice slithered from the shadows.
“Lorelei Bloodworth,” she sneered between clenched teeth, watching as the Bloodworth heir slinked from a doorway toward her. Lorelei’s hips swayed in her fitted black riding leathers in that entrancing way of hers. She wore, what Rose only imagined was a glorified corset for a top, clad in black leather and silver spikes. The top pushed Lorelei’s assets to threatening levels.
“Don’t you have somewhere better to be than here watching me like a ghoul?”
“Well, well, well,” Lorelei purred; her lips spread into a grin. “You’ve found out about your title as queen and have grown a pair of lady-balls in the process.”
“Go run your mouth off to someone else,” Rose spat. Lorelei barked out a laugh.
“I used to be like you. Thinking the world revolved around me.”
“You still do,” Rose cut in. Lorelei released a huff and continued on.
“But I was never enough for his Ripper. He’s called the Prince of Blood for a reason, you know. I couldn’t rein in his darkness, and I sure as hell doubt you’ll be able to either.” Every muscle in Rose’s body tensed. Lorelei was right, and, goddess did it pain her to think about it. But, Gavin had a past that superseded him. A Ripper could only be grounded by one person. And to hell if she was its master...
“So, what did you do? How did you handle Gavin’s darkness when you were with him?” she asked.
Lorelei smirked and shook her head, taking a step closer.
“Oh, poppet,” she crooned, placing her hand suggestively on Rose’s cheek. “Sweet, little Coston, there’s only one person who can tame Gavin’s beast. It was never me, and it will never be you.”
“Then, who?”
“It will always be that da
mn puppy at his flank,” Lorelei replied, walking past Rose toward the descending stairwell. Rose turned, watching her retreat.
“What should I do then?” she called. Lorelei stopped and looked back. She cocked a brow before flashing her pearly fangs.
“Get a leash?” She shrugged and continued on her way.
Gavin
“Gav, wake up, mate!” Ollie’s voice rang in his ear.
Gavin stirred, blinking back the blurred figure clouding his vision. He rubbed at his face, noting the empty spot on his lap where Aurora had been and sat upright. A chill ran down his spine as his nerves shifted into overdrive. She’d spoken of shadow men lurking the corridors and rooms at night. What if they had taken her? What if they had found whatever it was they were searching for? What if she was what they wanted all along?
“Where’s my sister?” Gavin croaked, staring into Ollie’s amber eyes.
“She’s been with her maids all afternoon, mate. Why?” Pushing to his feet, Gavin crossed the room toward his door without a word before turning back.
“I need to see Declan. The castle’s been breached.”
An icy chill ran through Gavin’s veins as he stormed the castle halls. Anger rolled off him in waves as he rounded corner after corner with Ollie on his tail. The castle had been breached. Placing the covens at risk. Placing everyone at risk. His parents’ murderer had made it in right under his very nose, and now, Aurora was seeing creatures. Shadow men.
“Ya have to talk to me, mate,” Ollie blew out between breaths. Gavin knew he was moving faster than the wolf, but this was important. “Or at least, slow the fuck down.” Gavin stopped momentarily and looked at his best friend.
“I’ll explain everything when we find Declan, but we have to move quickly and we have to go now.” The pair reached the end of one corridor, rounding on the next, as Gavin ran straight into Zachary Coston. The lord appeared disheveled, his hair in a mess atop of his head. He bore bags under his eyes and a tie around his neck that sat off-kilter.
“Watch where you’re going, you… Sire! I did not see you there. My apologies.” Coston bowed his head, averting his eyes.
“Ya know, Zachary, I hear that vampire hides are very valuable in other parts of this realm. Shall we try our luck?” Ollie sneered.
“Perhaps we’ll see how much a lone wolf hide can get us. I hear a wolf without a pack is better off dead, anyway,” Coston spat. Ollie took a step forward, his muscles flexing beneath his linen shirt as he closed the space between himself and the vampire lord.
“Are you fuckin’ threatening me, fangbanger?” he hissed.
“If you don’t stand down, it will be a goddessdamned promise, dog!”
“Enough!” Gavin snarled, flicking his tongue against his fang, the urge for a cigarillo tingling on his lips. “Lord Coston, please excuse us. We have...” Gavin trailed off. Zachary’s brows knit together. He took a step to the side, away from the werewolf.
“Is everything alright, sire?” he asked, bringing his gaze up to meet Gavin’s. He squinted, as though trying to read the prince and smiled.
“It’s none of your business,” Ollie snapped. Gavin whirled, shooting a glare at his friend.
“Everything is fine. But, truly, we must be going, please excuse us.” Trying his best to remain neutral and polite, Gavin grasped his wolf by the elbow and pulled his friend along, sidestepping the lord. They walked in silence until they were well out of earshot. Gavin stopped and turned on his friend.
“Really? You just had to go and shoot your mouth off to my future father-in-law?”
“The fuck if I care, mate. That bloke can sod off.” Ollie rolled his eyes.
“I fucking care!” he snarled, raking his hands through his chocolate locks, exasperated. “Let’s just... Let’s just get to Declan’s chamber without fighting anyone else.”
* * *
It didn’t take Gavin and Ollie much longer to reach Declan’s chambers. The hallways remained clear the rest of the way. Gavin raised his fist to his brother’s closed door and knocked, listening to the muffled sounds behind.
Moments later, the door creaked open and Declan stuck his head out.
“What the bloody hell do you want?” he hissed. Sweat peppered his brows and his usually neat hair was ruffled. Gavin’s nostril flared, picking up a lusty scent creeping from the room.
“We need to talk,” Gavin replied, arching a brow.
“Can’t we talk later? I’m a bit preoccupied at the moment.”
“No, mate,” Ollie said, jabbing his elbow into Gavin’s side. “You’re getting it in, eh?” he asked, wagging his eyebrows up and down as a wolfish grin spread across his features. Declan’s eyes shot to the werewolf, looking him up and down. His face crinkled with disgust.
“No, it can’t wait, Dec,” Gavin cut in. Stifling a sigh, Declan opened the door and fastened the tie on his plush white robe.
“Fine, come in. But by the goddess, go sit by the hearth. I’ll be with you shortly.”
Opening the door, Gavin and Ollie stepped in and down three steps until their feet rested on a red crushed velvet carpet runner. To their left, sat the hearth, unlit and draped in white stone. There was no mantle—much different from Gavin’s chamber—instead above the sterile fireplace hung a painting of Old Tatum, the city Gavin knew from his childhood.
Discreetly, Gavin scanned the room. To his right was a four-poster bed, with a snazzy little redhead tied to the posts, leaving her womanhood on full display. Gavin’s lips curled.
“Kail,” he murmured, nodding to the bloodwhore as he moved to take a seat on a white loveseat that faced the fireplace.
“You know that saucy, little minx?” Ollie asked and plopped down next to the prince.
“I think everyone in Tatum knows her,” Gavin replied.
Moments later, moans of ecstasy and the creaking of the bed frame filled the room like a song Gavin was very familiar with. Every now and then, an occasional grunt would sneak in followed by a giggle, but overall, this was by far, the most awkward experience of Gavin’s life. He shifted in his seat, swallowing hard as he tried to think of anything but what was going on behind him.
Ollie huffed a laugh and flashed the prince a look.
“Dec’s really givin’ it to her, eh?” he asked, throwing his elbow in the vampire’s ribs. Gavin gritted his teeth against the jabbing pain that erupted through his side and rolled his eyes.
Fixing his gaze on the charred logs, Gavin barked, “Shut up, Dawson,” and crossed his arms over his chest. The wolf at his side let out a sigh and took up the same pose. They listened for about ten minutes until the racket died and Declan joined them, sinking into a white chair to Gavin’s right.
“Sorry about that,” Declan said, grinning in a way that told Gavin that he was far from being sorry.
“Aren’t ya gonna untie the lass?” Ollie asked, motioning back to the tied-up human.
“No,” Declan replied matter-of-factly. “I’m gearing up for another round when you two leave.”
“You couldn’t have waited to finish round one until we left?”
“No, you interrupted. Hope it was awkward for you,” Declan replied, flashing his fangs in a grin. Gavin ignored his brother’s comment and leaned forward, resting his arms against his knees.
“You might rethink round two after we talk. Besides, Kail is going to need time to heal. Mortals aren’t as strong as we are.” Declan perked a brow, silently pushing Gavin to continue. “Has Aurora told you about shadows haunting her while she sleeps?”
“Yeah and she told me about the fucking boogeyman too. Didn’t you know that he has teatime with Limos and the Fae? Goddess, Gav, the fuck?” Gavin gnashed his teeth together, grinding them against one another as the muscles in his jaw tensed. He felt his demon awaken to the fire coursing through his veins.
Let me out to play, princeling. Let us show the brat why we are called the Prince of Blood. Flicking his tongue over his fang, he took in a long breath, trying to stifl
e the beast.
You can’t silence me. You can’t quench my thirst. Sooner or later, I’ll come out and I’ll teach you a lesson.
“Aurora said she’s seeing shadows. They’re searching the castle while we sleep,” Gavin gritted out between clenched teeth.
“Are you really going to take the word of a babe?” Declan asked.
“I am. It’s clear that we aren’t liked, that the people of Tatum want to see another coven on the throne. I think these shadows are very real and I think they’re behind our parents’ murders.” Declan’s eyes widened at the mention of their parents. His eyebrows rose as he sat a little straighter.
“You think the castle has truly been breached?”
Sucking in another long breath, Gavin replied, “Yes, and I think we’re housing the devil.”
20
Rose
Ollie was the Ripper’s master…
Ollie...
How?
Why?
Lorelei’s words swam through Rose’s thoughts as she walked through the halls searching for the meeting room she knew the covens would be convened in. Any time spent in Tatum was in meetings or balls. But, since the announcement of her betrothal to the Prince of Blood, Rose bet on the first. The ceremony would need to be planned, after all, it wasn’t every day that a new ruler took the throne. And to Rose’s dismay, she would be the next queen. Rose stopped, closed her eyes and groaned.
Tatum had strict laws on the practice of alchemy, something she was free to dabble in back in the Pits. Something that made her family standout amongst the rest. She’d had to give up something dear to her, the price for using magic and alchemy, the price Dia, herself, had to pay. But Rose knew that if she practiced her magic here, things wouldn’t end well for her. A thought occurred to her, stiffening her muscles. If she even dabbled with wolfsbane, things would be worse than bad. I have to get the decision revoked! There was absolutely no way she was marrying Gavin Sinclair. She opened her eyes and continued to search for the meeting as her booted footsteps echoed in the quiet corridor.
Rose Bound: The Rose and King series Book 1 Page 15
