Bloodbound Nocturne (The Sophia Kelly Chronicles Book 1)

by Amy J. Wenglar

  "Like I said earlier, your father was a very dear friend to me. Brilliant violinist. He was way ahead of his time and not of his time at all, if that makes sense. When I met you on that flight, I wasn't expecting you to be so…" He pauses as he searches for the right words. "I couldn't give in to my desires… Yet I wanted to see you again, which was why I sent the tickets. Your friend was the one who snapped me out of it. I hated him at the time for it, but it really was for the best."

  I could've gone without knowing about his desires. Especially now that I'm tangled up in a blanket with him in front of a warm fire.

  "And you have a girlfriend," I point out.

  It's hard to factor in something as mundane as a girlfriend when there's a war brewing in the supernatural realm, but it feels like the right thing to say.

  His face droops as if I've brought up a sore subject. "Sometimes," he grumbles. "When it's convenient for her."

  For some reason, that hurts me. Dr. D is hardly the warm-and-fuzzy type, but imagining him strung along by some snooty French model makes my heart ache.

  "I'm sorry." I snuggle closer to him. I can't help myself.

  He waves it away. "Not your concern."

  "I wanted to see you again, though. If that means anything to you." My face reddens at my admission, but he only looks at me, his gaze indifferent. I clear my throat and shift in my seat, wondering if I should have told him that. He sighs, and I can feel his chest rising and falling, sort of like my relationship with him rises and falls. "But yeah, like you said. It was for the best."

  "Mmm," he murmurs, resting his head against mine. "For the best indeed."

  Jesus Christ, what in the hell is happening here?

  We sit for a moment in silence, the crackling fire and the pounding in my chest the only sounds in the room. I take a breath, ready for a change of subject.

  "Do you believe what they say about him? About my father? Time travel? The dark magic? All of that?" I chuckle. "I always believed he left my mother because of another woman, and my mother couldn't deal with that, so she came up with all this silly supernatural stuff. But now I see the supernatural stuff for myself, and, well, maybe it's not so silly."

  "Well, unlike your insipid little Irish friend, your father was a pretty powerful Druid. I always suspected he could travel through time. He seemed to know things from other eras. Trivial things. And the way he spoke of them, it was as if he’d lived through them. But on a different level than everyone else." He smiles for a moment as if remembering something personal. An anecdote, perhaps. "Could he travel through time? I have no clue. When I knew him, he was obsessed with his music. He loved teaching and enriching those around him with his gift. But then something happened after you were born." Dr. D pauses, shaking his head as if still in disbelief. "He disappeared for a while. And when he returned, he'd changed. He'd grown obsessive over something he had done. I am still trying to figure it out, to this day. Anyway, he grew paranoid. Fearful for his life. For your life. I think he knew something was going to happen, because he came to me one day, asking me to look after you should anything happen to him. He didn't trust your mother. He barely trusted me. And now, with everything that's been happening, I wonder if his change had something to do with…"

  "The prophecy."

  "Unfortunately, yes." He straightens slightly, his face tilted toward mine, all hard lines and seriousness. "Miss Kelly, you mustn't speak of this to anyone. Do you understand me? No more talk of Changelings or the prophecy or anything of the sort. It is for your own good."

  "But, what if—"

  "We will not speak of this again. Do you understand me?"

  His voice is gentle, but there is an underlying firmness there, and for some reason I find myself backing down.

  "Man," I whisper, moving ever so slightly to set aside my empty wine glass before he realizes just how snuggly we are and decides to pull away. "I just want to be normal."

  "You're destined for so much more than a normal life," he murmurs. "Just not yet."

  I wish I had more of a response to such an epic statement, but my eyes are growing heavier and heavier. I can't move. Nor do I want to move. I watch the flames dance around the fireplace, feeling more at peace than I have in days. Dr. D's body grows heavy beside mine. His arm tightens around me once again, and I realize I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. Instead, I turn toward him, snaking one arm across his stomach and nestling my head in the perfect little space where his shoulder meets his arm, and let myself drift off to sleep.

  I wake up the next morning alone in Dr. D's guest bed and unsure of how I got there, since I don't remember coming back up the stairs and getting into bed. A numbness settles over me when the events of last night creep back into my head. Even though Colin and his friends had managed to save the people who had been on the brink of death, I don't think I'll ever be able to escape their screams and the chaos that sabotaged an otherwise perfect night. More importantly, I've come to realize that I can't even escape my own fate. The Fae apparently aren't going to stop until they have me. Just like my mother predicted.

  Dr. D sits at the bar in the kitchen, hunched over a stack of papers, a red pencil in his hand. I mentally prepare myself for whatever mood he may be in. Judging by the way his brows are scrunched together, he's at his grumpiest. And that's almost more frightening than anything I encountered last night.

  Great. He's grading something. And by that scowl on his face, it's probably something I've done.

  "Good morning," I chirp, despite the feeling of dread brewing inside me.

  "Morning," he grumbles.

  He doesn't even look at me, but continues working as if I'm not even here.

  "Hungry?" he mutters with bored indifference, again not looking at me.

  There is an icy coldness to him that cuts through me like a knife. This is not the same man who let me fall asleep nestled against his shoulder, and this is certainly not the same man who found such kind words to say about my father.

  "No," I say airily, and with as much disinterest as I can muster. The truth is, I'm starved, but I can play his game, too, if that's what he wants. "We can go whenever you're ready." He looks up at me, his gaze hard. He looks awful. Like he hasn't slept or rested, or whatever it is that vampires do all night. "Home, I mean. I'm assuming you're going to take me home? That you've done whatever you think needs to be done to ensure my safety?"

  I roll my eyes. I don't want to take any of this seriously, but after last night, it's all I can think about, and despite whatever is happening between Dr. D and me, I am eternally grateful for his help.

  "Yes, it has all been arranged."

  His tone suggests he is very put out at ensuring my safety, and it hits me like a punch in the stomach. He stands up, collecting his papers into a neat pile, while I pull my things awkwardly toward me, pretending to be digging for something in my bag just so I don't have to look at him. The tension in the room feels thick enough to cut. One wrong word, one wrong move, could send us both unraveling. I'm not really sure what would happen then. After last night, I think things could go either way. We'd either end up killing each other or we'd be in his bed, one or the other.

  "Is… something wrong?" I finally ask once I've gathered my things. "Did I do something wrong?"

  "We acted inappropriately last night. On many levels," he says quickly. My heart sinks into my stomach, though I'm not really sure what I expected him to say. He is right. We had acted inappropriately last night. "And I told you things that I had no business telling you."

  He pulls his phone out of his pocket and clumsily starts to type something.

  "Oh, you mean your big dirty vampire secret? Which you never actually admitted, by the way, so you're good there. Or is it because of the stuff you told me about my father, which shouldn't be a secret at all. He is my father, and as far as I'm concerned—"

  "I am a very guarded person," he says, interrupting me. "And I don't make it my business to open myself up to naive college freshmen. Tha
t was a mistake. It has nothing to do with my promise to protect you."

  I snort. "Well, your secrets are safe with me, Dr. von Drauchenberg." I make a face as I emphasize the Dr. part.

  I want to ask him what's really bothering him. Something else happened last night that he's not telling me. I can feel it. But his entire demeanor tells me to keep my distance, and my inner voice warns me to not broach the subject. Unfortunately, I'm not always good at listening to my inner voice.

  "So, what is it that you're not telling me?" I blurt. I've missed my chance to work this into our conversation by debating with myself about it for a good two minutes while I collected my things upstairs, but I feel as if I will explode if I don't ask.

  "Miss Kelly, I'd rather you forget about what happened between us last night, and I'd prefer not to have to compel you to do so."

  "Yeah, that's probably a good idea. And compulsion will not be necessary. I'm surprised you'd go to such lengths, anyway," I say, as I try not to dissolve in a complete huff. "Must've been pretty terrible. A little chemistry between two people and you're going to shy away from it. God forbid you let anyone get close to you."

  His hand slaps down against the counter with a loud thunk. "You have to go," he says abruptly. "I've just called you a ride.”

  Sometimes, when I'm in a mood, there's nothing I like more than a good argument, particularly with someone like Dr. D. And I'm feeling especially foul today. I hate that he's denying me one of my simple pleasures in life.

  "Oh, just like that? So you can be all snuggly with me one night and then all of a sudden—"

  A light knock at the door interrupts what was likely going to be the end of an epic statement. I am shocked to see Dr. D's face go from angry to ill in a matter of seconds when a gorgeous, statuesque blonde sashays into the room like some dramatic movie actress from the 1940s, trailed by the heady scent of fancy perfume. Something tells me she's not my rideshare driver.

  "I'm so sorry it took me so long to get here, my love, but—"

  She sees me and stops dead in her tracks, eyes fixed on my face.

  "And who are you?" she asks, her voice rising to a much higher squeak than the seductive purr she'd entered the room with. Her nostrils flare delicately as her eyes dart between me and Dr. D.

  I mentally high-five myself, pleased that I've managed to rile the French goddess right in the middle of her showgirl act. That high is quickly replaced with sadness, though, when I think back to last night and how happy and content I'd been, nestled against Dr. D's shoulder. Like I belonged there with him. But he's not mine. And he never will be. Tonight it will be Madeleine snuggled up next to him. Not me.

  My feet root into the floor as a strong energy starts to take hold somewhere deep inside my soul, moving outward and commanding my attention.

  Madeleine. The girlfriend. That's the girlfriend. And I think I'm about to kill her.

  "That's Sophia Kelly, Madeleine. You remember me telling you about Sophia Kelly?"

  Dr. D rushes to her, pulling her into a cautious embrace, followed by a kiss that's so sickeningly passionate I have to look away. What is with Colin and Dr. D having to explain me to their girlfriends? And why do I feel like a little plaything that keeps getting passed between them? A fun distraction to keep them busy until their girlfriends show up?

  The blatant show of affection between Madeleine and Dr. D causes my stomach to heave as the fiery light inside of me continues to gnash at my insides. I swallow a groan as I fight to keep it at bay, but it's as if it has a personality of its own. I don't trust it. I don't trust myself. I try to speak. To warn Dr. D somehow, but he is so wrapped up in this woman that I may as well not even be there at all.

  "Oh yes. Randall's daughter. Your assistant. Yes, I remember now." She gives Dr. D a secretive smile before untangling herself from his embrace. "Aren't you sweet?" she says to me as her sparkling green eyes survey me curiously. For a second, I think she might actually pat the top of my head and send me off with a candy bar like I'm five years old. "If you are going out, my dear, could you get a coffee for me? Espresso if they have it. Would you mind terribly?"

  "Yes, I would mind, as a matter of fact," I say through tight lips and clenched teeth, as the ball of energy rips and pulls at me like a petulant child, demanding to go outside and play despite my resistance.

  I want to claw that fake, glossy smile from her face. How can anyone look so perfect at seven o'clock in the morning? It's like she's just stepped off a runway.

  "Sophia was just leaving," Dr. D says, nudging me toward the door with his hand against the small of my back.

  And that's when it happens. Something electric snaps behind my eyes, momentarily blinding me as it shoots from my body. With a yelp of pain, Madeleine doubles over, clutching her stomach with one hand and her head with the other. She gives me a pleading look, as if she knows I'm responsible for this sudden and very unexpected attack. Dr. D says something unintelligible, and he is by her side before she can hit the floor. I can do nothing but stand there, held hostage by this powerful energy. I'm unable to act and unable to stop whatever light-demon I've just released, watching in a trance as Madeleine-the-Girlfriend suffers. In all of the commotion, I hardly hear Dr. D yelling at me to release her. But I have no idea what I've done or how to release her from it.

  "I don't know what to do," I wail, feeling another wave of energy flowing through me.

  "You will kill her," he bellows. Madeleine slumps to the floor, her eyes rolling back into her head. Blood trickles from her nose, thick drops dripping on Dr. D's immaculate wood floor. He looks up at me, his blue eyes dark with a lusty rage I've never seen before. "Forgive me, Miss Kelly." He fists a hand in my hair and pulls me to him, kissing me so hard I'm pretty sure he's drawn blood. The ball of light that had been tightening its hold on me fizzles and dies almost instantly, leaving me drained and useless in his arms.

  A little buzz of energy lingers in the air around us, along with the sharp scent of singed hair. But all I can focus on is Dr. D. He carefully disentangles his hand from my hair and shoves me away from him with a look of pure disgust, and I have to lean against the sofa to keep from crumpling to the ground next to Madeleine. My mouth works as I try to make a sound. But I am weak, and I can't even begin to make sense of what has just happened. Words are impossible, and my throat feels like sandpaper that has caught fire.

  "What happened?" I finally ask, my voice sounding hollow and disembodied. "And why did you—"

  "It was either that or killing you, and quite frankly, Miss Kelly, I'm so angry right now I'm not sure I would've resurrected you."

  He pushes a trembling hand through his hair and kneels to Madeleine, who is just starting to come to. In a soft voice, he commands her to look at him, and I watch as her memory of the past few minutes seems to completely dissolve.

  "You fainted, sweetheart," he whispers to her as he carefully sits her upright, gently stroking her hair. Her eyes search his face, her confusion painfully obvious. "Come. Let's get you something to eat."

  I try to speak. To utter some words of apology for what I've done, but I'm cut off before I can even take a breath. "You will go, and you will go now," he says to me.

  His voice is calm, but there is a powerful storm churning in his eyes. A storm that will rain hell upon me if I don't do what he says. I press my lips together.

  "Still think I need your protection?" my inner voice snarls at Dr. D.

  He doesn't look at me, but I can tell by the look on his face that he's heard me loud and clear.

  "Yes. You do. From me. Now get out of here before I change my mind and kill you."

  Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as a polished and very well-dressed hipster appears in the doorway, flashing us a sinister smile. "Uh, sorry to intrude, but did someone here call for a car?”

  I tried to kill Dr. D's girlfriend. I am almost a murderer.

  My time alone with my thoughts, making sense of what has happened, not only with Madeleine this morning
but over the past couple of weeks, is scattered and disorganized. I'd texted my mother saying that I desperately needed to talk to her, and while she had actually messaged back, it wasn't the answer I was hoping for. And it definitely wasn't what I wanted to hear so close to my trip home for the holidays.

  "CAN'T TALK RIGHT NOW. WITH HECTOR IN EUROPE. CALL U SOON."

  Lovely.

  I have no idea what to do or what to think. I've just got a Druid-in-training and a semi-controlling vampire fighting over who will best protect me against the evil faeries who want to kill me, when I just might be powerful enough to kill every last one of them myself. At least until Dr. D disarms me with another kiss.

  Jesus. What the hell has happened to me?

  My mother may be the only one with answers, and she's skipped town. I can say with absolute honesty that I need my mother. I need her more than ever.

  Damn her.

  Feeling restless, I tiptoe past Greg's room. He's usually awake before I am, but he had a date last night, and while it probably did not involve fighting off Unseelie Fae and shooting deathly light-rays at someone, it probably did include a late night. Grabbing the keys off the kitchen counter, I quietly make my way out to the car, where I send Greg a quick text message explaining that I have an errand to run this morning. And then I drive to the only place I feel like I can go.

  The tea shop is open early, just as I hoped it would be. When I throw open the door, I find Colin leaning casually against the counter, playing something moody and Celtic on the violin, serenading his lone customer, who happens to be the smartly dressed rideshare driver from this morning, who sits in the corner reading a newspaper.

  "Oh, thank goodness you're here," I say. I try to ignore the uneasy feeling that snakes up my spine and the restlessness that has consumed me since I got home this morning.

  Colin looks startled at my somewhat dramatic entrance, but he brightens all the same. I'm glad things have returned to normal between us after the inappropriate flirtations during the fencing match.