Reawakening

by K. L. Kreig

  Wow … jokes and romance? Rom was definitely an enigma she wanted to solve. She sensed she was being watched and peered at Rom, who was gauging her reaction with keen interest. He was trying to hide it, but she saw the same nervousness mirrored in his eyes.

  “You did this for me?”

  A small smile turned his lips. “Everything I do from now on will be for you, Sarah,” he said with such sincerity and such conviction, she had no choice but to believe him.

  “Come, have a seat.” He ushered her to the table and gallantly pulled out her chair.

  “Thank you,” she replied as she sat. “So—”

  Just as she spoke, a knock sounded at the door. Rom barked ‘come in’ and in walked Hooker with a dome covered silver tray. He sat it down at the table and uncovered what appeared to be some type of stuffed snail dish. Yuck. He quietly exited and Sarah just stared in silence at the table.

  “What’s wrong?” Rom asked.

  “Hmm … nothing.”

  He dished them up each a couple of the unsightly slugs and she picked at it a bit before Rom spoke up.

  “Not a snail fan, I take it?”

  “Not really,” she laughed. “I’m more of a meat and potatoes kind of girl.”

  His wicked smirk shot a jolt of lust straight between her legs. “What kind of meat do you prefer?”

  Not missing a beat, returning a devilish smile of her own, Sarah replied, “The salty kind.”

  “Jesus, Sarah ...” Rom’s icy eyes began to glow and lust tightened every one of his chiseled features. She wanted to swipe the dishes from the table, bend over and beg him to take her right now. And he knew it.

  She laughed nervously. “You made that too easy.”

  “As did you.”

  The sexual tension swirling in the room was thick and almost suffocating. If Sarah didn’t get things back on track, and quickly, she would end up in bed with the irresistible Romaric Dietrich tonight and as much as she wanted that, she also wanted to wait.

  “You can go ahead and have the snails. I think I’ll wait until the next course. There is a next course, right?”

  “Yes. And if you don’t like that, we’ll get you something you do like, beauty.” He winked. His words were laced with promise and double-entendre. Of course, she was likely just turning them into that with her own dirty thoughts.

  And whenever he referred to her with that verbal caress, it twisted her insides in the most delicious of ways.

  Rom finished the escargot as Sarah regarded him silently, sipping the most delicious champagne she’d ever tasted. Another knock and Hooker entered with a second covered silver tray. She cringed at what would be underneath this one. She quickly discovered that it was lamb and some little fried potato croquets, which turned out to be very tasty.

  “So, what do you do for fun?” she asked between bites.

  “Fun?” His thick brows drew together, causing her to laugh.

  “Yes, fun. You know, activities or hobbies you have that make you happy or laugh. Things you enjoy doing outside of work?”

  He sat back in his chair and gazed at her seriously. “I don’t have time for fun, Sarah. I am very busy.”

  A smile teased the corner of her mouth until she realized he was serious. “You don’t have a hobby or anything? Painting? Exercise? Video games? Reading? Body-building?” she asked as she took in his fine physique.

  “I work. That’s it. That’s all I need.”

  Well … how sad and utterly depressing.

  “What do you do for fun?” he asked, clearly interested in her answer.

  “I love to read. I really enjoyed my classes at the university. I’m a huge fan of Real Housewives. Atlanta, of course. And I really love horses. But you already know that.”

  “Yes.” He smiled. “I do.”

  During dinner, while it didn’t dissipate, they kept the sexual tension to a minimum and talked about mundane, but interesting things. She told him about her studies and finishing her degree. Talked about her family, leaving out the painful death of her brother for now, as to not bring down the mood. She learned that Rom had been a lord for over three hundred years and that he owned various nightclubs, just as Dev and Damian did, but was surprised to hear he owned over twenty and had expansion plans in the works for eight more. He talked a bit about his home and land in Washington, but refrained from saying too much because he ‘wanted to surprise her.’ And her mind was absolutely blown when she also found out he was over six hundred years old.

  But the one thing he wouldn’t talk about was his past. When she asked questions about parents or siblings, he easily diverted the subject back to her. When she asked about friends, he simply said the lords didn’t have the luxury of friends, except those they trusted with their lives, which were a proven few. And when she asked about other women, he merely growled, telling her he refused to talk about such things that were completely irrelevant.

  As she suspected he would, he asked several questions about her captivity, but like her brother, she didn’t want to talk about it. He’d reluctantly accepted, but told her they were not done with that conversation. If she had her way, she’d never talk to him about it. Guess they both had things they didn’t want to discuss.

  Two hours, two bottles of champagne and too much food later, Rom escorted them to the balcony where they sat on a double chaise lounge underneath the inky, moonlit sky. To control her libido, she’d tried to keep a respectable amount of distance between them, but just as he’d done at breakfast that morning, he moved directly into her personal space. Their bodies touched from shoulder to foot and the warmth of his bare forearm sunk deeply into her skin.

  He’d worn another button down shirt this evening. This time it was a stunning royal blue that complemented the iciness of his eyes. He’d paired it with black dress slacks. Trying to go for casual, the top two buttons were undone and his shirtsleeves were rolled up several times. Every time she’d seen him, he was dressed to the nines. She wondered if he ever relaxed and hung around in jeans and a t-shirt. God, would she love to see his ass molded in a pair of faded denims.

  The alcohol coursing through her veins made it easier to ask the question plaguing her mind since she’d discovered his age. Turning her head, she asked, “Is it unusual to not find your mate for so long?”

  Rom’s entire body stiffened like he’d just been electrocuted and he refused to meet her eyes, staring at the night sky instead. “Some vampires never find their Moira,” he answered tautly.

  Now she was absolutely convinced there was a story there, a personal one, but she didn’t push. She longed to ask him what the girl in her dream was sorry for, but was equally not sure she wanted to know.

  Needing to bring back the relaxed Rom she’d just spent a most enjoyable evening with, she did the only thing she could think of. Only inches separated their hands, so she reached over, taking his in hers. At that gesture, he turned his head toward hers and they lay there quietly gazing into each other’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “Why are you sorry, Sarah?” His voice didn’t hold quite as much vinegar as just a minute ago and she knew she’d made the right move. She longed to know the pain life had thrown at him, which he’d buried so deep. Whatever it was, she was convinced it had to do with this girl she’d dreamt about and an uneasy feeling crept over her.

  “For whatever I said to upset you.”

  His demeanor softened significantly and he reached his free hand to cup her cheek. “You didn’t upset me, beauty.”

  Secrets. They were like a slow growing cancer eating you from the inside out until the growth was so big, so noxious, it refused to be ignored anymore.

  They were quite the pair. They both held secrets they didn’t want the other to uncover. And that both upset and hurt her feelings. The fact that she was being a hypocrite wasn’t lost on her. She expected him to open up, but wouldn’t do the same.

  “I think I should go to bed.” She moved to get up, but
found herself pinned underneath a heavy, hard vampire instead, his thick shaft pressing into her belly.

  Oh my.

  “Stay.”

  “No.” Guess she could say no to him after all.

  “Sarah …” he growled.

  “This sounds oddly repetitive,” she retorted.

  He exhaled heavily, putting his forehead to hers. “I don’t want to be parted from you.”

  “Why?” She instinctively felt this was more than the Moira thing and was acutely important to him. He seemed almost afraid to let her out of his sight. Did this have to do with Xavier?

  “I’ve been safe here, Rom. Nothing will happen to me.”

  His voice and face hardened and she saw an almost cruel side of him she hadn’t before. “Nothing will happen because you will be under my watch at all times, Sarah. That is not up for debate or negotiation. You will stay.”

  And with that little announcement, he rose and strode back into the room, leaving her lying alone in the dark of night to wonder what the fuck just happened.

  Chapter 16

  Geoffrey

  Sitting in this sleazy, low-life human bar was grating on his very last fucking nerve. Xavier had sent him back into the lion’s den, aka Milwaukee, to do some further recon on the clubs the lord’s owned and search for additional clues on the whereabouts of his daughters. More likely he wanted him recaptured and killed by the lords. Too bad for him taking his sorry ass down was the number one priority on Geoffrey’s list, and he wasn’t going to spend eternity burning without Xavier in his hip pocket.

  The easiest way to find further information on Xavier’s offspring would be to go back to Dragonfly and hit up a few of the slutty women who prostituted themselves all in the name of pleasure. Or a buck. But he couldn’t stomach the thought of looking at another woman, let alone touching one. So here he sat, nursing a bitter rum and Coke, trying to plot his next chess move.

  He was well and truly fucked. On one hand, he was an infiltrator in his own organization. On the other, were powerful death-wielding lords just waiting to slaughter him if he made one wrong move. Hand over information to Xavier about their whereabouts … die. Don’t … die. Pretty fucking bad choices all around. He’d have to walk a fine line if he wanted to make it out of this alive, which looked bleaker by the minute.

  His mind drifted to Beth. The fact that he’d found his Moira under such heinous circumstances was not only inconvenient, but distressing. But the fact that he’d been unable to protect her from the ravagings of the monsters under Xavier’s boot made him murderous.

  She’d been taken captive while he’d been on another assignment, so by the time he’d returned she’d been there for almost a week. And while he didn’t know everything that had happened during that time, he had a pretty fucking good idea. He’d managed to protect her when he returned, but by then the damage had already been done. He only hoped she’d be able to emotionally heal, move forward and live a happy life. He’d like nothing more than that life to be with him. He craved it, but she’d likely never want to see his face after what she’d been put through.

  A voluptuous, striking blonde, who was clearly vampire, walked into the dimly lit bar and his radar immediately pinged. The vampire community wasn’t necessarily a small one, but it wasn’t all that large either. And the female vampire population was even smaller. Geoffrey had been around for over five hundred years, so he knew most of the female vamps running around the United States. And this was not one of them.

  She had sharp cheekbones, arresting green eyes and long hair so pale it was almost white. Her fair skin stood starkly against her all black attire. And her painted on black leather pants and tight fitting Henley didn’t leave much to the imagination. If he hadn’t found his Moira already, he might be trying to tap that, but there was absolutely no spark of desire, just … interest. Who was she and what was she doing in the heartland of the US?

  She scanned the bleak place with a look of disgust on her dainty features and was just turning to leave when she spotted him. Not hesitating a moment, she made a beeline straight toward him, nonchalantly taking the seat opposite of him, like they were old friends meeting for a night of chitchat.

  “I’m looking for someone.” She spoke English, but with a heavy accent, waving off the waitress who had scurried over to take her drink order.

  Not breaking eye contact, Geoffrey took another sip of his unpleasant cocktail, the cheap rum lingering far too long on his tongue. “And what makes you think I would help you?”

  She sneered. Geoffrey knew a predator when he saw one. He’d grown up around the worst kind all his life. Hell, he was one.

  “I could make it mutually beneficial,” she purred.

  “I highly doubt that, sweetheart.” A month ago he would have been all over that shit, whether he’d decided to help or not.

  She regarded him contemplatively, trying to figure out her next play. Yep… takes a player to know a player. But she was on his playground now and he was the motherfucking king of the hill, so she’d better bring her “A” game.

  “I’m sure you’re well aware of the hierarchy in this country, yes?”

  “Meaning?”

  She tried very hard to hide the fury boiling underneath her china doll façade. Unsuccessfully. “Don’t be obtuse, asshole.”

  “Get to the point, sweetheart. This is boring the fuck out of me.”

  “One of your lords is in danger.”

  He laughed mockingly. “And this is newsworthy?” The lords were always in danger. If not from Xavier and his minions, then from many other foolish vamps who thought they could overthrow them. But okay, he’d play along. “Which one?”

  “Romaric Dietrich.”

  “And you care … why?” Romaric could take any vamp blindfolded. Probably even in his fucking sleep. Of any lords being threatened, he was the one Geoffrey would be the least concerned about.

  “Let’s just say, it’s personal.”

  Personal? “And who might you be, exactly.”

  “An old friend.” She smirked.

  Riiiight. A scorned lover perhaps.

  “An old friend with or without a name?”

  She leaned back, crossed her arms and smiled silently. She wanted to play like that, fine by him. He threw a twenty on the table and got up to leave. It was twenty too much. Fuck, they should have paid him to drink that pigswill.

  He’d just stepped foot outside when he heard her call after him. “Do you know where I might find him? It really is life or death.”

  He turned, pinning her with his glare and baring his sharp teeth in what anyone who had a functioning brain cell would understand was a threat.

  “No.” Truth. “And even if I did, I’m not inclined to get into the middle of a lover’s spat. Or hand over his whereabouts to a groupie stalker simply because I have a cock and she batted her long eyelashes and dressed to show off her assets to their greatest advantage.”

  She looked genuinely torn. He’d discuss this with Rom the next time they connected, which was in a week’s time, at a place that Rom would disclose an hour before the meeting. He’d picked up several burner phones, provided all numbers to Rom and had left them at various locations so Xavier wouldn’t catch on. He had no doubt he was on a short leash and Xavier would be tracking every movement he made, which was all the more stupid that he was here and not at Dragonfly, which was where he was headed next.

  He turned again, intending to head around the side of this shithole and flash to a conveniently inconspicuous spot outside of Dragonfly when what she said caused him to freeze in his tracks.

  “It’s his father.”

  His father? Rom’s father lived? Where? Why had he not heard of this before?

  He slowly faced her and for the first time, she let the grimness of the situation show on her concerned face. Vampires grew stronger with age and if Rom’s father lived, as powerful as Rom was, he would be more so. So if there was a riff between Rom and his father … well, that was
very fucking bad. And that put his own plans very much in jeopardy.

  “Who are you?”

  “I told you. I’m an old friend.”

  “You’d better give me a fucking name or I’m walking.”

  The silence was deafening. Finally, she spoke. “Ainsley. Romaric will know who I am.”

  “And how do I know you aren’t the threat, Ainsley?”

  Her patience snapped. “Are you going to tell me where I can find him or not?”

  “No. But, I will get a message to him and if he’s interested, he’ll find you.”

  This time, he flashed away without the cover of dark, uncaring whether a drunk-ass human saw him or not. Once inside Dragonfly, he made his way to whom he’d seen Damian with several weeks ago. He assumed he was the manager of Dragonfly UG.

  He only hoped that he wouldn’t get his head severed before he had a chance to deliver the dire message from Rom’s very beautiful, very sexy, and very foreign old friend.

  Chapter 17

  Sarah

  He’d locked her in the bedroom.

  Fucking.

  Locked.

  Her.

  In.

  Like a goddamned prisoner. After several minutes of fuming on the balcony, she’d made her way back into the quiet, still candlelit empty room, intending on returning to her own bedroom, despite Rom’s caveman demands. But when she made it to the door, the handle wouldn’t turn. She’d pounded and yelled for Rom for fifteen minutes before making her way back out to the balcony to see if she could escape there.

  Unfortunately they were four stories up, so dropping from a hundred feet in the air was probably only a good idea in the event of a fire, because she’d likely break both of her legs. Or her neck.