Three Little Words

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Three Little Words Page 4

by Tina Glasneck


  “Lovely Leslie, it is great that you have traveled to the realm of—”

  The pain stopped.

  “Well, I know this isn’t Central Park.”

  “Poison seeps into you, and this is your draft into a war you’d not known existed. You’ve been drafted into a forever war, dear child, that between those who wish to uplift the gods and those who desire their demise. There are challenges that you don’t know, but now, you shall learn.”

  She tilted her head. “You see, you are unique, and a pawn in this war. Many will wish to use you, a conduit, a wielder, and unlike many a vampire. But the blade of Insurrection now turns you to that which you didn’t think possible. You shall thirst for blood, human blood.”

  I shook my head. “No, no, no. I will never.”

  “Monsters have no choice in what they become, only whom they serve.” She snapped her fingers, and a gorgeous, shirtless man moved before her. His chest was defined with abs I could crack an egg on, shoulders strong enough to fight any sense of evil, wield swords of destruction, and strong enough to pick me up. These thoughts betrayed me. Faint thoughts of Alistair flashed, only to quickly dissipate.

  With disheveled black hair, a strong jawline I could lick, defined muscles that my hands tingled to touch. “You called me, Mistress?” he asked. His deep voice stirred something within me. Eyeing him, I stroked my lips with my thumb. Within, my body warred, for in his gaze rested a promise of release, fulfillment. My chest fluttered.

  “Yes, Henner, go to her and let her drink.”

  I quickly swallowed, trying to find my voice. “No, no, this isn’t possible,” I stammered.

  The woman nodded, and this dashing duke of a man strode over to me, crooking his finger, beckoning, and I moved with a reluctant step forward under his power. How could he control me? But before the question could even take root, it disappeared in a wisp of smoke. Right now, he was all I wanted. His heartbeat akin to a siren’s serenade, summoned me ever closer to him.

  I didn’t know how he drew me to him, or what sort of spell must have been at work. And with the distance removed, his standing before me, every part of my body grew sensitive, pressure grew in my core; anticipation, expectation.

  Flashes of images of us tangled in sheets, me bent in various positions, while his delicious life force played on my tongue. I wanted him everywhere, in and on everything.

  “What do you desire?” he whispered. “Olive oil?” As if reading my thoughts, he produced a large, green bottle of extra virgin pressed olive oil, cradling it in his massive hand. “Tell me to touch you, and then we shall begin.”

  He needed permission. Again, my mouth filled with saliva, trying to find my voice in this trance placed on me. I licked my lips, and he leaned forward. All was well.

  Until I inhaled his scent.

  The stench of death wafted from his body. It overpowered him, as though he’d danced in a trash-filled grave and crawled out.

  “No, no, no.” I waved my hands and took three steps back.

  The image of the man morphed to that of a grotesque anthropomorphic rabbit costume, to finally reveal the monster’s true nature: a seven-headed dragon-like creature.

  A hydra? If I’d bitten into that, its poison would have certainly killed me.

  It grew to its full height, readying to spit its poison on me.

  “All magic comes with a cost.” The woman laughed from her rock. “Every time you use yours, it will sip more of your humanity until you become that which you most fear.”

  “What? My mother?” I snarked. “Who are you?”

  The woman then rose to her feet, gesturing for her monster to return to her side, and heel. She removed her mask and smiled, revealing her teeth, resembling sharp blades, and I gasped. “I am you. And it is time you met the mentor who will equip you to survive.” The image of the hydra changed once more and out stepped a man whose cape flowed behind him, and who wore the Order’s pendant.

  “Excuse me for such an introduction, but your training is of the utmost importance. Let me introduce myself. I’m Drac, and you have much to learn. When you awaken, find me, and we shall begin.”

  Chapter 5

  Alistair

  Leslie was still unconscious, and Alistair needed space and time to think.

  The moon’s beams did nothing to recharge him. He needed to dig deeper or risk losing it all. He squeezed his eyes shut.

  But all he could feel was Leslie’s burning agony. The pain in her abdomen gnawed, its intensity blooming.

  Dripping wet, standing on the banks of the Hudson River, Alistair frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  It wasn’t enough that they’d saved Leslie from an attacker, but every part of him wanted to combust. How was it possible that someone had found a way to not only get close enough to her but to injure her with something that could truly do her harm?

  Usually, the water should have washed away his dread, but it stayed like a stabbing sensation in his abdomen. The saline didn’t heal him. But it wasn’t his wound.

  Leslie. So was their connection, again connected.

  The emotions sent him away, escaping to where he knew calm rested.

  Too overwhelmed with emotions that battered him like the worst of storms, he needed a peace that could only come with the water. He’d failed her.

  Even thinking about the way he’d found her, curled up in a ball, a wine red-colored blood that seeped out of her made him scream. An invisible weight rested on his chest; his throat ached.

  He’d failed her miserably!

  “I take it you waited here for my return to tell me some news?” Alistair asked.

  “We dealt with the police and her friend, Imogen, but I’m unsure if it took. She smells different. There is something about that building Leslie lives in that acts as a beacon.” Killian cleared his throat. A towel was tossed Alistair’s way. “You know, swimming with the fishes isn’t going to make Leslie safe.” Killian leaned against the tree, where he’d left him thirty minutes beforehand.

  Alistair caught the towel, shook the water out of his hair, and listened.

  “Beau’s wolves are watching her now.”

  “With the last attack, I should have had guards watching her.” His words were tinged with anger, gruff even.

  “Aye, uncle, I can’t deny that, but there is something else happening here. While you were diving deeper and bypassing boats or whatever it means to swim like a water dragon, Beau reported that we have a new pup missing.”

  “Bollocks.” Alistair turned and saw Drac rounding the tree.

  “I didn’t know this was an intervention. Leslie will be fine. I will assure you of that.”

  In all of his time, he’d never offered his blood to anyone, and there had been enough reasons to do so. With Leslie, it was different, but his life wasn’t in a way that could make this thing between them easier.

  Drac moved to his side. “You will not always be able to protect her, but you must ensure that she knows how to protect herself.”

  “What do you wish to do? You’re too interested in my mate.”

  The sharing of blood, she’d bewitched him, and in doing so, she was his.

  She just didn’t know it yet.

  Drac raised his hands. “I have been sent to help you both.”

  The air sizzled with tension. “The last time you helped, well, let’s just say our friendship never recovered.”

  “Again, with this. You accuse me of something I’ve done nothing to earn. Cilla wasn’t who you thought her to be. I saved you and the Order as you were blind to her shortcomings, as well as her alliance to a cause you do not support.”

  “How do you know what I support?”

  “You’re blinded by jealousy, and I’ve done nothing.” The stench of burning grass floated around them, and Alistair’s skin started to scale. “But, I will not allow you to continue to question my honor.” Drac’s eyes flashed, the irises glowing with a small flame.

  Killian moved between
them. “Gentlemen, as much as you two would like a reckoning here in the park, and I’m sure Beau would again enjoy coming up with an excuse of why a dragon and a man on fire are attacking each other in the park, but Uncle”—he turned his attention to Alistair—“Drac is right. You’re unable to train Leslie, and he’s a vampire who will know what she needs to learn. Not to mention he’s also a senior member of the Order, the Council.

  “If anything should befall her, I will come for you, Drac.” Alistair dragged his nail across his palm, cutting his skin. Drac did the same.

  “You don’t need to worry about me, Alistair. Should I betray you, I’ll give you the ultraviolet bullets to fire. Now, when shall I begin my duties?”

  Clenching his teeth, he pushed back the wave of painful energy. Leslie’s throbbing ache would continue to gnaw at him. And taking one deep breath, holding it, he locked it down. Her pain rang out in his ears, and like their body was one, they shared it.

  Like a thousand stars burning his skin, still, he focused on her. He planted his feet, and raising his left hand, he took the invisible wave of energy and placed it on his back. She wouldn’t carry it alone.

  He wouldn’t let her.

  That’s what love was supposed to be. She wouldn’t walk alone, carry it alone, and he’d make damned sure of it.

  “Killian, call for the car. From my estimation, Leslie’s party should begin soon, and we still need to find her a present.”

  Chapter 6

  Leslie

  The last couple of days had been a blur of activity, and not peaceful, either. Instead of rising with the sun, the moon became my light in the sky. Sure, up and at ‘em was the supernatural way, but everything dragged. The energy I previously had was gone, sort of like I was recovering from the flu. I yawned, longing for nothing more than to crawl back into my bed.

  The city was alive below.

  Rising from my bed, I plodded to the shower, wrapped in my fluffy bathrobe, my feet stuffed into matching slippers. I ignored the sounds of what seemed to be Gran entertaining Alistair.

  She was acting almost like a chaperone, and I appreciated the heck out of that.

  Finally, in the shower, the cold water washed over me. Still, it didn’t shake this burning under my skin. Could I just shut my door and be done with it? Of course not, I’d planned the gathering for tonight, and that meant doing my part to appear.

  The cold water didn’t wake me up, no matter how cold I turned it to be, and I wasn’t too fond of cold showers.

  Lathering up, I winced when my hands touched my wound. It was still nasty looking, which I didn’t think was possible. Weren’t supes like me supposed to heal almost instantly? From all of the prior fights and injuries, it had taken only a simple thirty minutes for things to feel like they were back to normal.

  But this wound? Nope.

  Stepping out of the shower, I patted my body dry and tried to moisturize, because being the dead walking wasn’t an excuse for ashy skin.

  Finally, back in my room, staring in the mirror, I quickly pulled the loose-fitting purple and crimson-colored dress over the yellow-green- and brown-turning wound. No one needed to know it wasn’t healed, but the bloating around my injury didn’t look so good. The skin was marbling and starting to swell, while tendrils of pain spread, sneaking ever higher, while the skin around it peeled like rice paper.

  I spied the oblong velvet gift box that someone had snuck into my room and placed on my dresser with a bow. A silly smile crossed my lips as I smirked in delight. There weren’t too many ways to surprise me, but being able to sneak in my room as I slept was a first. I usually refueled with catnaps, but most recently, those cat naps had been rock-solid trapping periods of sleep. I cracked the jewelry case open and found a gold- and gem-filled collar, with a dragon amulet in the middle. The dragon’s eye was a black pearl.

  I didn’t know if baubles helped make up for our missteps, but I wasn’t going to complain.

  Weird darkness was just there out of sight, but ever present. It was a huge problem. All I wanted to do was fall into Alistair’s arms, and he’d assure me that everything was going to be okay, yet that wasn’t the case.

  I’d let him in, and why did I have this feeling of having my reality yanked from under my feet?

  This could be a blessing in disguise or that which spurred me onward. Love was a tightrope, and for once, I wasn’t sure if I could walk it.

  The more I longed for a close to normal life, the more supernatural crap poured down on me.

  The room started to spin, and I held myself upright by leaning on my bed’s wooden frame.

  Just when I thought the pain would make me pass out, the bite of it disappeared.

  Finding my balance, I moved over to my armoire and picked up my perfume, the scent au naturel, or rather death. Spraying the perfume, my chin trembled, and my eyes welled.

  The pain could be my pressure, forming me, driving me into something else. Whatever I was, this middle ground wasn’t it.

  Tears never solved anything, let alone provide a solution for how I was supposed to heal myself.

  But, it was better to say nothing than to be grilled about how I’d been attacked, and lost.

  In my bedroom, I took comfort in knowing that in these four walls, I was indeed safe.

  Gran walked through the door, and I hurried to pull the dress down. No one needed to see the scar left behind.

  “You’re supposed to knock,” I told Gran.

  “It’s not like you have a man here.” The more Alistair found other things important, the more I got the nagging feeling that he was starting to lose Gran’s stamp of approval. I caught her sighing, “mmhm,” often, like she’d heard an excuse one too many times. We’d been together long enough for me to notice her ghostly and nonverbal communication. “He’s too busy hitting the town and avoiding you, though I must admit that he wasn’t too keen about your little attack. Plus, Claudine is in the kitchen making her special margaritas.”

  I chuckled. The margaritas meant store-bought lemonade mixed with tequila and grenadine. Maybe it was a knock-off Tequila Sunrise? Hmm. Who needed a margarita mix when lemonade was easily available?

  I shook my head. Since the first time we’d gone to the local ABC store on Claudine’s twenty-first birthday, where everything was about alcohol, she’d taken one look at the price tag and said: “I can get a gallon or more of lemonade for that.” And since then, Claudine’s margarita’s meant lemonade galore. The more off-brand, the better.

  At least she kept the salt off of the glass rims.

  “Don’t get distracted by the gossip, but I heard from Leeyanne on the third floor. She’s talking about some strange things happening in the city. She heard them on the news about street performers and the like just vanishing. Reminded me of your attack.”

  My ears perked up. “Imogen had mentioned the same thing. I’ll try to talk to her at the party.”

  “She’s a really good friend. Once she heard you’d been hurt and she’d just left your side, well, her Aunt Mirella said that she wouldn’t let it go and has been trying to find out what happened. You know she’s dating that police officer, what’s his name? Not Melvin, but Manny, yes.”

  Luckily, I didn’t make the news. It was just another mugging in a city where muggings were practically an everyday occurrence in one borough or another.

  I then focused on what Gran said. “My little attack?” From what I recalled, that was three days ago, and all I remembered was tons of red and talking to a man named Drac in my weird state of unconsciousness. Of course, a part of me might have called him dashing even. But—

  “We were all worried. Maybe I’d gotten too used to your being almost invincible. He might feel the same. At least that would explain why, with your life and existence being threatened, he can’t seem to make time for you.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about. I was mugged. Muggings don’t make sense.” I turned some in the mirror, hoping the buttercup-yellow dress didn’t highligh
t the yellow undertones beneath my eyes. The poison was spreading.

  “Now, girl, in all your time in this city, ask yourself how often you’ve been victimized in it, and especially by something magical enough to harm you. Even I know that this is not a mere coincidence but something deadly. The goddess was right. We should head on to Scotland where you’ll be safe.”

  “Sure, that’s something to consider.” Maybe if I accented today’s death look with my cat-eye glasses, people would think I was being stylish and not under the weather.

  A part of me wanted to know about the weapon used and if it had been recovered from the scene. Another part wondered if anyone knew about my condition and didn’t give a shit.

  A heaviness flooded me.

  I rolled my shoulders, hoping it would loosen me up. Today wasn’t the day to fret over what may or may not happen.

  “While I was asleep, was there a strange man here or around?” I asked. The thought of this Drac guy might be one that I truly needed to search out. Alistair wasn’t doing anything but assigning a wolf to protect me. But, once better, I needed to learn to protect myself.

  “You’re not yourself if you’re asking these questions. You were introduced to him, and he’s with Alistair. Now, what was his name again? Vlad of Wallachia. Surely, you’ll see him again tonight.”

  “If you weren’t already looking doe-eyed at Alistair, I’d say he’d be even a better fit. Talk about a man entering into a room and commanding attention. Power radiates off him. Made even my lady bits quake like I’d had a good shot of moonshine.” Gran giggled like a schoolgirl, her shoulders shaking.

  No matter what happened, this was my destiny.

  And I would seize it.

  If I was to be of the night, then damn it all, carpe nochtem.

 

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