The Alexandru Chronicles: The Beginning

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The Alexandru Chronicles: The Beginning Page 9

by Julienne Holmes


  It was as he drew near to the kitchen, that he could feel how Brian's blood lust was getting even worse – it was to the point of exploding.

  The moment he entered the kitchen and went over to the back door, he could feel Brian's overwhelming blood lust practically seeping through the wooden door.

  As he stood a few inches away from the door, weighing over his two options, he tried figuring out which one was more beneficial, to not just himself, but his guests: One, he could leave the door lock and go back to his guests. Yet, knowing Brian, he would most likely break the door down to get at what he wanted: Jewel Freemen – aka AB-.

  Or two, he could let Brian in.

  With all things considered, Cirpian knew that he couldn't very well let Brian in. Yet, he couldn't very well leave him outside, either.

  The only option he had, was the one he didn't want to use.

  After a brief hesitation, he hastily opened the door. The moment that door swung open, Cirpian wasn't at all surprised by the sharp metal feel of Brian's blade against his Adam’s apple.

  “Hi, Brian...,” he smiled “it's nice that you decided to grace my household with your presence...”

  “Cut the crap, Cirpian!”

  “Now, Brian, is that any way to speak to a friend?”

  Angrily scoffing, Brian replied, “Friend...you're no friend...you just wanted her for yourself!”

  If Cirpian had had his sight, he would have seen this, intense, red glow around Brian's irises. As it was he could only sense how the blood lust had driven Brian completely insane – no amount of reasoning would help.

  He would probably have to kill the bastard...Yet, the only problem with that, was that he had left his sword upstairs; in the future he would make sure to keep his blade close by.

  “Okay Brian, you can have her...”

  The moment Brian heard that, he instantly removed his sword from Cirpian's throat.

  “You mean it.”

  “Yea...” Cirpian could sense the relief in Brian, he wanted his AB-, but he was conflicted over whether or not he should kill his friend and master to get her. “You can have your AB- and I'll take her sisters...While the one isn't really my favorite blood type, the other is...The way I see it, we'll first enjoy the least favorable and then save the other two for...” he smiled. “dessert.”

  As Brian hastily came into the kitchen, he closed the door behind him. “Okay...,” his gaze insanely wandered around the kitchen. “but no tricks.”

  Putting his hands up, Cirpian said, “Of course not...,” as Brian headed toward the kitchen door, he suddenly halted in his tracks at the sound of Cirpian's voice, “but before you go in there, could you go down into the wine cellar and get me some more wine?”

  Cirpian could feel Brian's eyes on him, cautiously picking away at his demeanor. When he finally spoke, there was this slight hesitation in his voice, “Okay...What kind do you want?”

  “Any that looks good...I'm not picky and neither are my guests.”

  Swiftly going over to the wine cellar door, Brian, again, hesitantly looked back over at Cirpian. “No tricks...” he pointed his sword at him.

  “Of course not...What kind of friend am I?”

  After giving Cirpian one last searching stare, he, opening the cellar door, stepped out on to the stairs landing.

  Really Brian should have seen it coming, but because of his unbearable blood lust he couldn't think straight. All he could think about was blood and sex. He wanted to fuck his AB- so hard, that she begged for him to either stop or keep going.

  He was so lost in what he was going to do to his AB-, that he really had no time to react to the hand on the small of his back. All he could do, as he tumbled down the stairs, was stare dumbfoundedly up at the person who had pushed him.

  As Cirpian stood, shaking his head disgruntledly at the crumbled figure that now laid at the bottom of his cellar stairs, he muttered, to himself, “Idiot.”

  Once he had securely locked the cellar door, he went to the refrigerator and retrieved another chilled champagne bottle; he enjoyed champagne, rather than wine. If Brian had been thinking straight, he would have known that.

  After straightening his suit, he headed out of the kitchen; to attend to his dinner party guests. He would deal with the idiot later; if he was still perturbed with Brian, he might just very well decide to decapitate the scumbag – that would be one way to end a long friendship.

  At this time, he would enjoy the company of his guests – especially that delectable Genevieve.

  While he had lied to Brian about letting him have Jewel Freemen, the one thing he hadn't lied about was his desire for Genevieve. It was this desire, that had him quickly reining himself in. He knew that he had to watch himself with her, not only was he aroused by her strong demeanor, but her blood left him thirsting for a sip.

  Chapter Eleven

  “My boss is going to kill me...and then fire me...possibly not even in that order.”

  Albert looked over at Genevieve. He really didn't know how to reply to the morose detective that sat across from his desk. He did feel guilty, though. Because of his mishap, he might of cost this fine detective her job.

  “Gen, he can't fire you for this.”

  Scoffing, Genevieve sullenly smiled. “Shows how much you know, doc.” sighing she got up from the chair in Albert's office.

  As she stared at the degrees on the doctor's wall, she thought back to that Saturday night. It had actually been a nice weekend and she had immensely enjoyed the company.

  The company had taken her mind off of the week ahead of her. Having to show up that Monday morning and tell her boss, that still she had not turned up any clues on her missing stiff; was not a thought she wanted to linger on. It didn't matter that the body had disappeared from the morgue late Friday night. Or that Kyle and her had gone to her missing stiff's apartment complex, looking for clues...

  Nah...it would be best not to mention that. If she didn't want her boss to hog tie her and roast her body over an open flame, it was best, for a change, that she kept her stupid trap shut.

  Yet, while her thoughts should have been more focused on the case at hand, she still found her thoughts pleasantly preoccupied with the handsome, Cirpian Alexandru. Just the thought of him, had a blush instantly encompassing her cheeks – she couldn't hide the attraction she had for the man.

  While it was true that there were probably other men out there, that were more attractive than him; there was just something about him that made him more unique than those other men. It could have been the way his suit, that Saturday night, hung on him – like it was painted on to his body. Or how broad those shoulders were – she had thought that he was wearing shoulder pads, yet he wasn't. And his lips had been neither too full nor too small – they were just right. It had been those lips that had had her wondering what wonderfully wicked things he could possibly do to her naked flesh.

  But his lips, weren't the only thing that had had her in trouble; it was those eyes. Those eyes, while unseeing, were the most beautify allusive tint of grayish blue that she had ever seen—she had been overwhelmed by not just the shade, but the way his glistening blond eyelashes seemed to enhance the gray and shards of blue that were in them.

  She had known, quite embarrassingly, that he had sensed her attraction toward him. Yet, her embarrassment hadn't time to sink in, before he was pulling her to the side and asking to see her again. It had given her such great pleasure to know that Cirpian had reciprocated her attraction, that the whole drive home, she had felt like a giddy school girl at the thought of, not just seeing him again, but having dinner with him that Monday night; she had been in such a good mood, that she had even exchanged an hour of decent conversation with Amelia – usually that took a lot of effort, with a large mixture of booze.

  At least she had one thing to look forward to. If today was going to be screwy, she could at least think about the end of the day—when she would see Cirpian again.

  “The buzzard is proba
bly hovering over my desk, as we speak.” she looked over at the doctor, who was smilingly shaking his head.

  “You don't know that, either.”

  Defeatedly shrugging, she stuffed her hands in her pockets. “Well, there is one way to find out.” taking her cell phone out, she hastily dialed it.

  XXX

  The moment Kyle saw who it was, he answered on the first ring, “Gen...,” he tried keeping his voice below a whisper. “where are you?”

  XXX

  It was Kyle's tone, that instantly had Genevieve on alert. He was purposely trying not to let anyone else know who he was talking to.

  “I'm at the morgue...Where are you?”

  That was a stupid question, she already knew where he was...

  XXX

  “At our precinct...”

  XXX

  It was upon Kyle affirming what Genevieve already knew, that had a small smile creeping to her lips. This tiny tid bit of knowledge could be handy, in the sense that Kyle could tell her where and what their Captain was up to.

  “Hey, Kyle..., what's our Captain doing?”

  XXX

  As Kyle hastily looked over at their captain's office, he was relieved to see that the tyrant was still inside his office. Minutes ago he had been hovering over Genevieve's desk, asking where she was and when she would be showing up.

  Kyle had told him, that he didn't know. That hadn't technically been a lie; nor had it been the truth. If he knew his partner, she would be trying hard to keep herself away from the hornets' nest – not wanting to be stung or have her ass chewed off, she would try to stay away until their Captain was no longer in a foul mood.

  When he heard Genevieve say, “Kyle...”

  He finally replied, “The chief is in his office, but for how long...? I really don't know.”

  As he continued to watch their captain, sitting at his desk, too focus on whatever was in front of him, to notice that Kyle was watching him.

  “The moment I got here...,” he said, “he was hovering over your desk; asking where and when you planned on showing up...He stood next to your desk, for close to twenty minutes. First watching the precinct's entrance and then looking back down at your desk.”

  XXX

  The moment Genevieve heard this, she almost dropped her phone. So she was right, the buzzard had been hovering over her desk and watching the door so he could swoop down upon her when she showed up.

  Well, his royal dickhead highness, would have to wait to pick her bones until later; she had no plans to show up, anytime soon.

  Groaning, she looked over at Albert. “That's what I thought...thanks, Kyle.” before she hung-up, she hastily said, “How's your ankle?”

  XXX

  Kyle had somewhat forgotten about his ankle, and it had taken Genevieve reminding him to remember not just his sprained ankle – that was presently plopped up on a chair – but that horrible night.

  The moment they had gotten away from that horror fest complex, they had headed straight to the hospital, where the doctor, on call, had done an x-ray of his ankle; and come to the conclusion that he hadn't broken it—he had sprained it. This tid bit of information had done wonders for his ego. While sitting up on the examination table, digesting this information, he had felt like a complete wussy asshole – a failure to his partner.

  He had tried hard that weekend to forget, but it took Genevieve bring it up, for the full horrifically, embarrassing, memory, to come back.

  Granted it wasn't all Genevieve's fault for him remembering, most of the blame landed on the majority of the cops in the precinct. His Captain, and many others, had asked him about the brace and crutches. While he had lied to those who had asked, by telling them that his motorcycle had fallen on his ankle, his thoughts, had, haphazardly, gone back to that night.

  “It's fine...In fact the boss asked me about my ankle...”

  XXX

  It was Kyle bring up the Captain's quizzical concern over his ankle, that had Genevieve very anxious. While she wanted to know what Kyle had said about it; she was afraid that if her partner had told their Captain about how he had sprained his ankle, that the man, himself, would come down even harder on her.

  Yet, as curiously worried as she was, she didn't want to come off as being a callous bitch.

  Briefly hesitating, she finally asked, “What did you tell him?”

  XXX

  Kyle instantly registered that slight hitch in Genevieve's voice – she was worried. And he knew what she was worried about.

  If he hadn't known her, he would have been royally pissed off at her for being so insensitive. Yet, he did know her, and he knew that she cared about him; in her own way, she loved him—if she hadn't loved and cared him, she would have left him back at that apartment complex.

  “I told him..., that my bike fell on my ankle.”

  XXX

  Genevieve couldn't help the choke laugh that came lose.

  “You didn't...Did he believe you?”

  XXX

  “Yep...because my bike has fallen on other parts of my body...” he smiled when he heard Genevieve's deep sensual laugh.

  Lord he loved her. She was a royal pain in the ass, but he still loved her.

  When she finally stopped laughing, he said, “Gen..., do me a favor, stay out of the police station.” looking back over at their Captain's office, he noticed the tyrant getting up from his desk.

  “And meet me over at the Starbucks on Irvington...At say..., one.”

  Before she could reply, he hung up on her. Just in time too, because their Captain was making waves towards him.

  XXX

  After Genevieve frowned down at the dead phone in her hands, she looked over at Albert. “I was right..., the vulture was hovering over my desk.”

  Chuckling, Albert said, “You mean buzzard.”

  As she headed toward the door, she mumbled over her shoulder, “Same difference.”

  XXX

  After leaving the morgue, she decided to head back over to her stiff's apartment complex; her thoughts were solely on looking around the premises. Possibly she stood a better chance of finding something during the light of day, instead of during the eery night.

  She knew that Kyle would be none too happy with her entering the building by herself, but frankly she didn't have any other options. She couldn't just go back and deliver nothing to her Captain. Nor could she hope for him to just develop a serious case of amnesia and forget. If there was one positive incentive, that was that she didn't have anyone's safety to account for - except for her own.

  Yet, as plans went, this one didn't pan out.

  No sooner had she pulled up to the building, did she notice the lock fence, and the sign out in front, which read, in bold capital letters: CONDEMNED.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Condemned?” Kyle perplexedly stared at her. For a few minutes, he just sat there, muttering this word; eventually, he sat forward and folding his hands upon the Starbucks' table, he inquired, “Why...? When?”

  Genevieve had taken Kyle's advice and stayed away from the precinct that whole morning. Now they both sat in Starbucks, enjoying some chilled coffee.

  Shrugging, she finally said, “That's what I wanted to know...And that's why I went over to the building district to talk to my friend, Mark.” taking a sip of her ice latte, she said, “He told me that the building was condemned..., earlier that morning...”

  For a brief second, they both sat there, silently weighing over what she had just said and looking around at the gradually growing amount of people in Starbucks.

  “Why?” when Genevieve only stared at Kyle, he said, “Why, condemn that eye sore now?”

  Shrugging, Genevieve replied, “From what Mark told me, it was bound to happen sooner or later...Besides, from what I gather, they have plans to turn that so called eye sore into a nice parking lot...

  Kyle scoffing said, “Yea, that no one will use...”

  Shrugging, Genevieve replied sarcastically, “The way I
see it, our tax payers' money is being put to good use.”

  Shaking his head, Kyle took another sip of his coffee.

  For the remainder of that time, they sat in Starbucks, not really talking and avoiding the issue of last Friday night's horror fest. It was like an ugly piece of furniture. One that everyone kept looking at, but no one really had the heart to say anything about.

  Once Genevieve had finished her latte, she, glancing down at her watch, decided that it was late enough to head home. Yet, before she could even push her chair in, Kyle suddenly grabbed her hand.

  “Gen, do me a favor...” she stoically looked down at him. “Don't go back over to that apartment complex.”

  “Kyle, even if I wanted to...” and she did want to. “I couldn't”

  Smiling, Kyle said, “Yea, well, no sign or chained fence can keep Detective Genevieve Freemen out. So, promise me anyway.”

  “Ah Kyle, don't worry your pretty little head...Besides, I have a date.”

  “With whom?”

  Not replying to his question, Genevieve yanked her hand away from his and, as she smiled saucily over her shoulder, she sauntered out of Starbucks.

  XXX

  It was long after his dinner party and guests had left, that Cirpian ultimately decided to just leave Brian down in the cellar at the bottom of the stairs. Besides, the idiot deserved it.

  The only thing he had taken from his little wayward pupil was his sword. While he doubted that the jackass would be able to do anything, until he had healed, it was better to be safe than sorry.

  Sure enough, it had taken Brain the whole rest of the weekend to heal and, because of his blood lust, Cirpian had spent the rest of the weekend listening to him howl and try to break down the hard cellar door – the cellar door, was one of those well built accessories that had been built long before cheap labor and the improvements in modern technology.

  It was early Monday morning, that Brian's blood lust simmered down to the point that Cirpian no longer felt threatened by him; and decided to leave the cellar door unlocked.

  From the moment Cirpian got downstairs and made his way to the kitchen, he could sense Brian, just from smelling and hearing him, he knew, when he entered the kitchen, that Brian was sitting over at this quaint medium size wooden table—that sat right underneath this huge kitchen window.

 

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