by Julie Wetzel
“True.” He chuckled at her. “So, is there anything else we need to address?” Darien looked to the other six people sitting in the breakfast nook.
“I think we covered it all,” Dakine said from across the table.
Rupert looked over at Phelan to see if he had any more questions. “We’re good,” he said when Phelan shook his head.
Darien looked over to Clara sitting next to him.
She shook her head before looking down at the woman asleep against Darien’s leg. Zak’s face could just be seen poking out from her blankets where he had been listening. “You understand?” Clara asked the purring fay.
Zak gurgled quietly and wiggled his tips in a positive answer without moving from Vicky’s lap.
Clara looked at the girl that had spurred them all to such drastic action. Darien’s hand rested on her head, petting it lightly.
“Do you love her?” Rachael asked from where she leaned in the corner of the room. She had watched Darien’s actions since the young woman had come in. His hand hadn’t left her as they talked, and his heart rate had sped up to match hers without him realizing it. “Or, is she just a passing fancy?”
Surprised by this question, Darien’s hand froze on Vicky’s head. He looked down at the golden curls his fingers had pulled loose, and a warm feeling flowed though him. “I suppose I do,” he answered after a few moments of thought.
It had been a while since he had truly loved someone. He tried to avoid letting people close to his heart. Somehow, Vicky had found her way past all of his defenses. Was it her charm and subtle beauty, her innocence, or maybe her complete trust in him, even after he nearly killed her? Perhaps it was a mixture of it all. He wasn’t sure, but what he did know was that he would give anything to make sure the young woman by his side was safe.
“Then, I suggest you mark her before something else tries to steal her away.” Rachael looked pointedly at the small fay snuggled into Vicky’s blanket.
Darien chuckled and rubbed her head again. “Point taken.” He looked down at his sleeping assistant. “Let’s get through this week, first.”
A murmur of agreement circled the room as people started to shift in their seats. With all the important details decided, they just had to wait for nightfall.
“Then, I suggest we get as much rest as we can.” Dakine stood up. “We’re all going to need it.”
***
Vicky shifted in her slumber. The blanket she was wrapped in had become too warm as the rays of the morning sun shone in the window on her. As sleep withdrew, she could feel the wiggly warmth of Zak in her lap and Darien’s gentle fingers toying with her hair. She rubbed her cheek against the smooth material of Darien’s pant leg. Opening her eyes, she looked up at the man she was using as a pillow. Darien had leaned forwards and was resting his head on his arm on the glass table.
“Good morning,” he said softly from where he had been watching her sleep. The morning light glinted off her golden curls, giving her a slightly ethereal look.
Vicky smiled as she yawned. “Morning.” Zak gurgled in her lap as she pulled the blanket back to expose the little fay. “Good morning to you, too.” She petted the grumpy fay until he purred happily.
“Did you sleep well?” Darien asked as he continued playing with her hair.
Vicky nodded sleepily. “I didn’t disturb your meeting?” she worried.
“No.” Darien shook his head as he watched her wake up. “Everything is set; we just have a few final preparations before nightfall.”
Vicky nodded and rubbed the rest of the sleep from her eyes. She stretched a little and coaxed Zak out of her lap so she could get up.
Darien let his hand slip from her hair to run down her back lightly and end in the hollow of her lower back.
“Breakfast?” Vicky asked as she looked down at him.
Darien’s eyes widened in surprise before an impish grin turned up the corners of his mouth. “Miss Westernly.” He sat up as the mischief lit his face. “Are you propositioning me?” His words were nearly purred as he moved his hand from the small of her back to her hip.
Vicky squeaked as he pulled her off balance, and she ended up plopping down into his lap sideways.
Zak gurgled loudly from the floor before attacking Darien’s pant leg.
Darien laughed at the blush on Vicky’s skin as she realized what her simple question could have meant to the vampire.
“I, um… That is, um…” she stuttered as she tried to find the words to clarify her meaning.
Darien gave her a light squeeze. “I’m kidding.” He patted her on the back. “But I do think breakfast would be a good idea.” Helping Vicky off his lap, Darien stood up and shook off the fay ruining yet another pair of his pants. Turning to the refrigerator, he pulled it open. “So, what would you like this morning?” He looked back over to the shocked expression on Vicky’s face. Darien laughed and shut the door. He walked back over to her and wrapped her in his arms.
She stood there rather stiffly against him.
“Don’t worry,” he said soothingly, “I won’t do anything to hurt you.” He rubbed his cheek against the side of her head.
Vicky relaxed a little and lifted her hands to hold him.
“Besides, I’ve taken enough of your blood already; I won’t endanger you more.” Darien placed a kiss on the side of her neck, drawing a gasp from the girl. She clenched her fingers into his shirt as a tingling sensation shot through her. He leaned back, and Vicky looked deep into his swimming green eyes. The memories of Daniel and Mizty in the kitchen swirled up, along with the sudden urge to ask Darien to show her how pleasurable a vampire bite could be.
He smiled at the confusion and desire he found in her blue eyes. “Eggs,” Darien said, before leaning over and kissing Vicky’s forehead. He released the girl and turned back to the kitchen before he decided to do something he might later regret.
A pang of disappointment shot through her as Darien pulled from her arms. Did she really want him to bite her? Vicky sat down in the chair Darien had left as she tried to sort out her feelings. Her thumb found the two scars on her wrist, and she rubbed them lightly as she thought. She watched him search his cabinets for things that the invading horde hadn’t put back in the right places. A smile slipped across her face as he found the pan he was looking for with a loud ‘aha’ and dropped it on top of the stove. Vicky studied his movements.
Darien was long limbed and graceful as he shifted through his kitchen, pulling out supplies. She couldn’t help but wonder if he had always been so elegant, or if it was something he had learned over time. The only thing disrupting his graceful movements was the occasional shake he would give his leg as he tried to dislodge the fay chewing on his pants.
She considered him as he pulled out a knife and started chopping up some ham with flair. Darien was old. Really old. What did that mean if she stayed?
Vicky shook the thought away before she could dwell on it. She just wanted to get through this ifrit thing before she even considered the future. Then, when everything was sorted out, she would see about the possibilities for a relationship with her boss.
“Can I give you a hand?” Vicky asked, saving Darien from the fay still trying to eat his pant leg.
Darien chuckled as she leaned against the counter next to him with the wiggly ball of tentacles. Zak had a torn bit of Darien’s cuff sticking out of the corner of his mouth. “Don’t let him eat me,” he teased. “I don’t taste good.”
Laughing, she stole a strip of the ham Darien had been cubing. She held it up, and Zak grabbed it happily. Vicky pulled on his tentacles softly. “So, what do we have to do today?”
“Rest, mostly.” Darien cracked a few eggs into a bowl and added a little milk. “I need to gather a few things together, but it shouldn’t take long.” He pushed Zak’s feelers back from the bowl as he whisked it together.
Vicky looked around at the tranquil kitchen, surprised there weren’t more people coming in for breakfast. Listening care
fully, she was stunned at how quiet the penthouse was. “Where is everyone?” Vicky asked as she looked towards the door to the foyer.
“Rupert took most of the wolves with him when he left so they could get ready,” Darien explained. “Clara, Daniel, Michael, Rachael, Elliot, and a few other vampires are holed up in the bedrooms for the day. Everyone else is sleeping off the overdose of Monty Python.”
Vicky stared at him, shocked. “Wait… Michael is here?” She looked around as if his name would summon the man.
“Yes,” Darien said, pouring the eggs into the hot pan. “He brought his kiss over last night so they could be ready to leave at dusk. The only council members not here are Victor, William, and Lillian. They all live closer to where we are going tonight. They’ll meet up with us after nightfall.” He stirred the eggs a little before adding in some shredded cheese and the ham.
Vicky let out a deep breath as she thought about this. If she weren’t in danger, would the Vampire Council and the werewolves be going to such measures to stop this ifrit? “I’m sorry, Darien,” she said, setting Zak on the floor.
Darien looked away from his omelet at her. “For what?”
Vicky sighed again. “For causing all of this grief,” she said sadly.
Darien wrapped his arms around his assistant and pulled her in for a hug. “You’re not causing any grief,” he reassured her as he patted her on the back. “We would have to deal with this thing anyway.” Darien held her out to look at her. “If anything, you’re helping.”
Vicky cocked her head, confused. “How?” she asked. She couldn’t see how she was helping the situation at all.
“Without you, we wouldn’t have a way to track this thing down.” Darien took Vicky’s bandaged hand in his. “You’ll get to ride at the front of the hunt tonight and lead the hounds straight to him.”
Enlightenment filled her eyes as she realized how important her part was. The horror hit as she remembered what Brian had said. “But, I thought the Wild Hunt wasn’t safe for humans,” Vicky said, wide-eyed. “Brian said it was known for running off with the riders.”
Darien released her to turn back to the omelet before it burnt. “True.” He slid the eggs onto a plate. “The Wild Hunt is dangerous for humans. It’s dangerous for all of us,” he said solemnly. “But, I can promise they won’t ride off with you. I’ll be with you.”
Zak barked angrily from the floor.
Darien chuckled. “And Zak will make sure you’re safe.”
Vicky looked down at the creature at her feet; he had a tentacle curled protectively around her ankle again. What could the little creature do against hellhounds?
“Breakfast time.” Darien cut the large omelet in half and slid part of it on a second plate. “Get yourself a drink and come sit down.” He took the two plates to the breakfast nook.
Vicky found a glass for some orange juice. Zak dragged behind her as she made her way down the kitchen. She was surprised to find Darien had set one of the plates on the floor.
Zak gurgled happily and scampered over to dig into the food.
“Aren’t you eating?” Vicky asked as she sat down at the table.
He smiled at her, and she blushed again, having forgotten for a moment what he was. The fact that he stood in the sunlit room didn’t help her fit him into her preconceived notions of a vampire.
“I’ll get something from the fridge,” Darien said warmly.
Vicky watched as he moved through the shadows to collect his breakfast. Had she not been thinking about it, Vicky might never have noticed the practiced motion. She turned back to her food and thought about all the time she had watched Darien dance between the sunbeams without knowing what he was doing.
“Are we still worried about the ifrit showing up?” Vicky followed Darien upstairs after breakfast.
“Yes,” he said, leading the way into his study. “But I think you’re safe for now. Let me trim your hair again.” Going to his desk, he picked up the scissors. The braid had started to drag the floor again, and Zak was busy chewing on the end as they walked through the house.
“Is it me, or is it growing faster than before?” Vicky turned around so he could clip the braid off even with her shoulders. “I thought you said the fairy magic would fade over time.”
Darien made a noise deep in his throat as the iron shears cut through the strands of hair. “It usually does.” He pulled the severed hair away from Zak’s mouth to coil it up. “Maybe we need to talk to Dakine about this. You know, it was fairy magic that made Rapunzel’s hair grow so long.” Turning to the shelves behind the desk, Darine added the braid to a pile already there.
“Rapunzel was real?” Vicky asked in surprise.
“I thought I told you that most old fairy tales were based in truth.” Darien looked back at her. “The Grimm’s stories had it mostly right.” He turned his attention to the shelves as he talked. “They only messed part of the story up. The witch locked Rapunzel in the tower to keep her away from men. She needed the heart of a virgin for a special spell to keep her young and had to wait till Rapunzel turned twenty before she could take it. The ‘prince’ that found her was really just one of the local farm boys.” Darien paused for a moment, thinking.
“The Brothers Grimm liked to dress things up to make the stories more interesting.” He shrugged and went on. “Anyway, the fay gave Rapunzel the gift of long hair so the boy could climb up and spoil the witch’s plans. The evil woman had been causing problems for the fay around her home.”
Darien moved across the room and started looking on another set of shelves. “When the witch found out, she tried to kill Rapunzel, but found that the fay had woven their spell to stay the witch’s hand. So instead, she chopped off the girl’s hair, chucked her out into the wilderness, and took her revenge on the poor boy. But, that wasn’t what broke the spell on Rapunzel.”
“What did?” Vicky asked, immersed in the tale.
“Oddly enough, it was the blinding of her lover.” Darien grimaced as he thought about that. “I hope the fay have grown a better sense of style since then. I would hate to have to hunt down your last lover and gouge out his eyes.”
Vicky blanched as she tried to recall who the unlucky man would be. It must have been just after she broke up with Tim. She’d had a short tryst with one of her classmates named Alex, who had been a little more than a one-night stand.
The man turned out to be a creep, and Vicky ended it right away, but he still stalked her for nearly a year afterwards. He had finally gotten the message when she had him arrested for breaking into her home one night. The subtle application of a frying pan to his head had ensured he was still there when the police arrived.
“Would it really come down to that?” Vicky asked, finding this option really didn’t weigh too heavily on her mind. The creepy letters over that year hadn’t endeared the man to her very much. She was just glad when he stopped following her around. The whole experience had put her off from one-night stands since then.
“Hopefully not,” Darien said as he pulled what he was looking for from the back of the shelf. He took an old sword from its worn, leather scabbard and inspected the edge. The metal of the sword looked as if it had been folded and twisted on itself millions of times before being forged into an edge. Lines were etched into the fuller running down the center of the blade. Vicky couldn’t read the runes in the groove, but she could tell they were some sort of writing just from the intricacy of their workings and the regularity of their spacing. It looked old—really old—as Darien spun it around in the confines of the room. She was amazed to see how well he handled the sword as he walked through a short series of exercises.
He made an unhappy noise as he sheathed the blade and shook the hand he had held the sword with. Stretching the muscles in his back, he dropped the weapon to the desktop.
“What’s wrong?” Vicky asked as she looked at the sword.
“I’m out of shape,” Darien turned back to the shelf and pulled out a leather belt and po
uch that looked just as old as the sword. “I wish I had a few weeks to practice before going on a hunt.” He put the belt on the desk next to the sword.
Vicky looked at the hilt of the old blade. The leather wrapping was stained dark and well worn, but the pommel shone, brightly polished with years of use.
“I’m so going to have blisters tomorrow.” Darien turned back to the shelves and started searching for something else. “Years of pushing papers around have softened my hands too much.” He looked at the redness on his palm that the short swordplay had caused. “Where does one go to swing a sword nowadays?”
“You could always go join the SCA.” Vicky giggled. “They run both Renaissance festivals and Civil War reenactments. I am sure they would love the input of someone who had lived through both.”
Darien looked over at her as he pulled a pair of daggers from another shelf. “That’s not a half-bad idea.” He grinned wickedly. “Come here, wench.”
Vicky scoffed at him but came over to see what he needed.
Darien handed her the daggers along with another sword and belts made for both. “Hold these.” He added the belt and the sword from the desk to her pile before pulling open the closet. Pulling out two cloaks, he hung them over his arm.
Zak barked and took off into the open closet before Darien could shut it.
“Zak!” he yelled at the fay and dropped his cloaks to dive into the closet behind him. There were things in there he didn’t need the fay chewing on. “You don’t need anything in here,” he yelled as he tried to get Zak out.
He felt a touch of magic and the familiar pang of desire as he brushed into the scarves of Vicky’s spider-silk dress. “Damn it, Zak!” Darien growled. “If you don’t get out of here right now, so help me, I will send you back to Fairy and make sure Lady Aine makes you stay there!”
A threating growl answered from deep in the closet as a tentacle shot out and grabbed Darien’s ankle. It jerked hard, toppling him over backwards with a bang, before pulling him fully into the darkened closet.
“Darien!” Vicky gasped and dropped her armload of weapons on the floor before heading in behind him. “Turn him loose, Zak!” she cried, pushing past the boxes and hanging clothing. Her eyes landed on the ball of tentacles struggling with Darien under a rack of clothing. Wading in, she tried to pull them apart, but found that Zak was not easy to get a hold of. She ended up falling on top of them with tentacles wrapped around her arms and legs.
