by Julie Wetzel
“No.” There was a sad note in his voice. “It’s usually much worse.”
The frayed ends of her emotions let loose, and Vicky sobbed as he pushed her back to her room.
He hummed soothingly as they walked.
By the time they reached the elevator, she had gotten herself back under control. “Thank you,” she said as she wiped her eyes on the corner of the blanket.
“You’re welcome,” Karl answered. “I’m going to hang around for a while, so let me know if you need anything.”
Vicky nodded. Her mind was starting to fuzz as the medication he’d given her muted the pain. She leaned back in the chair, and Karl bent forwards, sticking his hand out to support her head as he pushed the chair from the elevator with his elbow. Vicky was sound asleep by the time they reached her room and the freshly made bed within.
The house Darien parked in front of was one of the older ones in the area, but it was still rather nice. The yard wanted for cutting, but it was otherwise well maintained. He sighed as he pulled the plastic bag of wolfsbane from the seat and got out of his car.
It had been a long day at work, and this was the last thing he needed to take care of before he could head back over to the hospital. Darien stood in the shade of the porch and knocked on the door of the sky blue, split-level house. When no one answered, he banged on the door a little louder.
“Keep your pants on,” Darien heard a young man’s voice yell from the other side of the door. It opened as far as the security chain would let it, and a teen dressed in a rumpled punk rock T-shirt peeked through the crack. “What do you want?” he growled.
Darien gave the boy his calmest smile and reminded himself to be nice. “I wish to speak with the master of the house,” he said politely. “Open the door and ask me in.”
The teen glowered at him. “Michael is sleeping right now. Come back later,” the boy grumped and went to shut the door.
Darien caught it with his hand before it could close. “I need to speak with your master now.” His voice hardened. “Go wake him up.”
“I told you,” the boy repeated, “he’s sleeping. You’ll have to come back later.”
“Who is it?” A female’s sleepy voice called from within the house.
“Some guy in a suit,” the boy replied. “Says he wants to see Michael.”
“Did you tell him that Michael’s asleep?” she asked.
“Yes, but he still insists I wake him up.” The punk teen yawned and rubbed his spiky hair.
“Get his name, and I’ll see if Michael wants to see him,” the woman’s voice answered.
“What’s your name?” the boy grumped at him.
Darien dropped his hand from the door and stood up to his full height. “Darien Ritter.” His voice was loud enough to carry into the house.
“Oh shit!” the woman’s voice cried from the top of the stairs, and the door slammed shut.
Darien crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his foot as he listened to the sounds of a scuffle behind the door.
The chain lock rattled, and a tall woman opened the door. “Please forgive us, Master Darien. We were not expecting visitors at this time of day.” The woman bowed. “Please come in.” She stepped back so Darien could enter. The boy who had answered the door was no longer in the entryway.
“Thank you.” Darien stepped over the threshold. “I promise I won’t trouble you long.” He recognized the woman as one of Michael’s long-term pets, Maria. She took care of his house and all the residents that came and went.
“You are no trouble, Master Darien,” Maria assured him. Watching the master step into the darker room from the light on the porch, she closed the door behind him. She had heard about Darien’s special talents from Marsha when she came back from the Vampire Council, but she hadn’t believed it.
“Where can I find Michael?” he asked.
“This way.” Maria led him down the steps of the split-level house. Their course took them through a lounge where several people huddled on couches and watched in fright as the vampire walked through the room. Maria stopped in front of a closed door. “He’s in here. If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll wake him up.”
“No need.” Darien waved her way. “I can wake him up.”
The blood drained from Maria’s face, but she backed away and let Darien push the door open.
The room was dark and cool as he walked in and shut the door behind him. There was just enough light for his eyes to find the bed and its three occupants curled together. Darien stood at the foot of the bed and slipped his hand into his pants pocket and patted the bagged plants against his leg. When no movement came from the bed, he loosened his control and let his power wash over the sleeping vampires.
Michael stirred in his slumber as something called to him. He opened his eyes to find the silhouette of a man standing at the foot of his bed. Irritated at the intrusion, he rolled over so he could turn on the light to yell at whoever had disturbed his sleep. Light flooded the room, and Michael blinked as his eyes registered Darien standing, annoyed, at the foot of his bed.
“Master Darien!” Michael nearly shrieked as he scrambled into a sitting position against the headboard.
Darien waited for the panic-stricken vampire to stop thrashing around. “Good afternoon, Michael.” He spoke softly to the terrified man. “I need to speak with you and your kiss.” Darien looked at the other two lifeless bodies in the bed.
“Sure,” Michael said with a voice that was a little higher than usual. “What time is it?”
Darien looked at his watch. “About five thirty,” he answered. He had skipped out of work a little early so he could deal with this issue.
Michael looked at his girls with concern. “It’s still too early for Ann and Robin.”
“That’s not a problem,” Darien said, releasing a wave of power over the three vampires.
To Michael’s complete amazement, the two girls drew in deep breaths and stirred. They both opened their eyes and blinked away their sleep. Once awake, they looked for the source of power that had pulled them to life. Neither of the girls had seen Master Darien before, but they both recognized him for what he was. Ann scrambled up the bed to Michael, and Robin fell off the side as she tried to move away.
“Good afternoon.” Darien started again. “I apologize for disturbing your rest, and I’ll make this quick.”
All three of the vampires looked at him in fright.
“Miss Westernly and I appreciate the thoughtful gift of the flowers, but you need to speak with your florist about what’s appropriate.” He threw the bag of wolfsbane onto the foot of the bed.
“I’m aware of the animosity between the wolves and the vampires,” he continued, “but I’d appreciate it if you keep the conflict out of the hospital rooms, especially when what’s mine is involved.” Darien turned and left as the three vampires stared at him in shock.
“Wait,” Michael called as Darien walked out into the common room.
He stopped and turned around to see what the man wanted.
Michael rushed naked into the room, followed by the two women wrapped in a sheet. “I apologize.” He bowed to the older vampire. “It was not in our instructions to put wolfsbane into the arrangement. I’ll have words with the florist about this.”
Darien nodded his approval. “The tensions in this town run too high as it is,” he explained. “We don’t need thoughtless acts compounding the problem.”
“Yes, Master Darien.” Michael straightened from his bow and looked at him. “How is the young lady doing?”
“She’ll be fine,” Darien answered. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m on my way to see her now.” He turned away from Michael and crossed the room to the steps.
A parade of people followed him and gasped as he walked into the landing where the sunlight leaked in from outside.
Darien paused at the door and looked down past the humans following him to the three vampires who had stopped just outside of the light’s reach. “Have
a pleasant evening.”
Michael’s humans followed him up the steps and out onto the porch as Darien walked down the path to his Aston Martin parked at the curb. He looked back at the motley bunch lining the porch and shook his head before driving off. Maybe now Michael and his crew would remember they were just small fish and stop giving Clara such problems.
***
The soft scent of roses met Vicky as she woke from the drug-induced sleep. Her eyes fluttered open and landed on the vase of white and yellow roses sitting on the table next to her bed. She breathed deeply and stretched as she tried to think through the fog left by the morphine.
“Are you awake now?”
Vicky looked up at the male voice coming from the far end of the room. Her eyes fell on a familiar figure in a leather jacket leaning against the wall.
Rupert uncrossed his arms and approached the foot of the bed.
Vicky stifled a yawn as she shifted up in the bed, so she was more presentable for her unexpected guest. “Uh huh,” she answered. “Did you bring the flowers?”
Rupert came over and sat in the chair next to the bed. “Sue sent them,” he replied. “She also sent these.” Picking up a plastic bag, he set it on the edge of the bed where Vicky could reach it.
She stuck a finger out and hooked the top of the bag to peek inside. The plastic box filled with Sue’s chocolate chip cookies brought a smile to Vicky’s lips. “Thank you.” Raising her eyes to her visitor, she leaned her head back against the bed. She hissed when the burn on her neck pressed into the pillow.
Rupert sat forward, ready to help her if she needed it. He fished for something to say to the woman as he watched her discomfort. “I talked with Karl before he left,” the werewolf offered. “He said that you were doing very well.”
Vicky wiggled around in the bed until she was more comfortable and waited for the pain to subside before answering him. “I don’t feel it right now,” she admitted.
“You don’t look it right now,” Rupert gave her a consoling smile.
She returned it in a weak grin.
“You really need to do something about your hair. It’s starting to look a little… ragged.”
She reached her hand up to the tangled mess on her head.
“Do you have a brush?” He looked down at the bag Darien had left.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
He picked up the bag. “Do you mind?” he said, asking if he could look inside.
Vicky didn’t feel well enough to really care, so she nodded her approval.
Rupert set the bag on the edge of the bed to look through it. His eyes widened as soon as he opened it up. “Have you been eating these?” He pulled out a bag that contained a few of the honeyed cakes Darien had left.
Vicky shook her head. “Not since last night,” she admitted, earning her a growl. Vicky’s heart jumped when the man stood and picked her up into a sitting position in the bed.
He ripped the top of the bag open and plucked one of the cakes out, plopping it into her hand. “Eat!” Rupert barked at her.
Vicky looked at him in surprise, and Rupert glared at her until she raised the cake to her mouth and took a bite.
He nodded and sat back down to rummage in her bag again. “When a master goes out of his way to make you something to help you get better, you eat it. Understand?” He glared at her again.
Vicky mumbled her agreement around the mouthful of cake. “Are these that special?” she asked between bites.
“Those are probably better for you than most of the medicines this place will try to pump in you,” he answered, scoring a brush from the bottom of the bag.
Vicky examined the last bite of the tasty treat while Rupert zipped the backpack closed and dropped it to the floor. She slipped the last piece into her mouth, and he held out another one, ready to fill her empty hand. As he roughly shifted her in the bed so her back was towards him, Vicky began to feel uneasy. When he sat on the edge of the bed behind her and reached for her hair, Vicky nearly freaked out.
Sensing her panic, Rupert placed his hand on her good shoulder to stop her from bolting out of bed. “Sit still and eat,” he commanded, “I won’t bite you.”
She nearly laughed at his choice of words but decided that it would be better to listen to him. As she lifted the second cake to her lips, the werewolf ran his fingers through her hair to loosen the rat’s nest that had formed at the back of her head.
They sat in silence as Rupert worked the tangles from her damaged hair. Vicky was surprised at how gentle the coarse man could be as he ran the brush over her head. After licking the stickiness from her fingers, she folded her hands in her lap as the man played with her hair.
When the brush ran through Vicky’s hair smoothly, Rupert divided her locks and worked them into a braid, securing the end with a band from the handle of the brush. The alpha ran his hand down the length carefully and laid the braid over her good shoulder before standing up from the bed and sitting back down in the chair next to her.
“Thank you,” Vicky said quietly as she shifted back to the middle of the bed.
“You’re welcome,” he replied, tucking the brush back into the backpack. “Um, I know we got off to a rocky start…” Rupert began.
Vicky watched him pick imaginary lint from the bed sheets before he continued.
“But I wanted to let you know that my wolves will be watching out for you until we’ve caught the person responsible for this.”
Vicky’s eyes widened in surprise. “You think this wasn’t an accident?”
Rupert nodded. “The fire has all the same traces of those in the southern part of the city,” he explained. “We just can’t seem to find a connection between the victims.”
Vicky worried her bottom lip as she thought about this. “I knew a few of the victims,” she admitted.
He looked at her, shocked. “What?”
“They were in my classes at college.” Vicky spoke softly as she thought about the possible meaning of this. “…And a few of the others were in my best friend’s classes.”
Rupert stared at her with an open mouth. “Why didn’t you say something about this sooner?” he asked harshly.
Vicky cowered in the bed. “I didn’t know,” she replied, nearly bawling at the anger in the werewolf’s words.
“What are you doing to my assistant?” Darien’s asked as he stepped into Vicky’s room.
Rupert looked up at the new addition. “She knew of a connection between the victims,” he growled.
“I heard.” Darien came over to stand next to Vicky’s bed. “So, the victims all went to your college?” he asked her.
She shook her head. “Only a few of them.” Vicky rattled off the names of the ones that she had known. There was one for each fire that had occurred.
“That’s a lot.” Darien scratched his cheek as he thought. “Did you tell this to the police?”
“No,” Vicky admitted. “Do you think I should?”
“No.” He waved her concern away. “They’ve probably made that connection already. I don’t think it’ll help them find out what’s causing the trouble.”
The three sat in silence for a moment as they thought about the situation.
“Something in here stinks.” Rupert broke the silence.
Darien chuckled. He walked around the bed and found the planter that had the wolfsbane in it. Looking through the foliage, he pulled out a fallen bloom and held it up for the alpha to see. Rupert wrinkled his nose at the flower.
“One of the local florists thought these would look nice in an arrangement.” Darien opened the window and chucked the errant bloom out before shutting it again. “It was an honest mistake, and I’ve had words with the responsible party.” He wiped his hand together, dusting the issue way.
Amusement played across Rupert’s face as he stood up to leave. “You should see to your lady,” he said and looked back at Vicky as she scrunched down in the bed. “She’s in pain and hasn’t been eating prope
rly.”
Darien raised an eyebrow at his embarrassed assistant.
“She’s also going to need a haircut,” he pointed out. “There’s a large section burnt out of the back.”
Vicky’s hand reached for the frayed ends of her hair sticking out of the top of the braid.
“Thank you, Rupert.” Darien patted the wolf on the shoulder as he slipped past him. “I’ll take care of it.”
He looked down at Vicky as the alpha left. “What am I going to do with you?” he asked softly as he slipped his coat off and folded it onto the back of the chair.
The red on her cheeks deepened, and she looked down at the blanket as he pulled off his tie.
Darien popped the top two buttons of his dress shirt open and shook his head at the lack of verbal response from Vicky. He found the button that raised the head of the bed and pressed it until it was high enough to lean against comfortably. Sitting on the bed next to his assistant, he slipped out of his shoes and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt.
“Come here.” Darien held out his arms for Vicky, but she just gave him a confused look. He rolled his eyes and reached for her. Carefully pulling her into his lap, he stretched out in the bed with her laying against his chest.
Unsure of what her boss was doing, Vicky curled stiffly in his arms.
Darien chuckled at her unease and patted her soothingly.
Listening to the rich sound vibrating from his chest, Vicky relaxed a little bit. She could hear the slow beating of his heart increase slightly as warmth radiated from him and soothed her pain. Vicky closed her eyes and let the tension ease from her muscles until she was completely limp in his arms.
He smiled at her complete trust and shifted her against him so he was a little more comfortable. “So, tell me what the doctor said.” Darien listened as Vicky told him about Dr. Urnkalther and Karl the werewolf.
Now that he was soothing her pain away, the morphine was addling her brain, and she prattled on about the nurses and Rupert’s visit, the cakes, the flowers, and what it was like to have the alpha brush and braid her hair.
