Jaxon (Blood Angel Chronicles Book 1)

by Jennifer Field

  I push away and let out a snort of disbelief. “Yeah, right. I’m just beating away the mega-rich and hot with a stick lately. Not to mention avoiding him isn’t going to be possible, since Jaxon summoned me to a meeting before my shift tomorrow.”

  The look on Leif’s face is one of obvious concern for my well-being. He looks as if Jaxon has summoned me to a cage match against a rabid lion, instead of some bullshit dress code violation.

  “I’ll talk to him, and you don’t need to go to that meeting.”

  “Oh, I’m going, and I’m going to wear this exact uniform.” I stomp my foot like a child to emphasize my point. “He has zero right to…” I pick up the two hundred dollars from the bar and turn over the business card. “Oh, fuck. Why didn’t you warn me?”

  I study the black and gold embossed card in my hand and read the name scrolled across it. Jaxon Krieger, CEO of JDL International. Fuck. My. Life.

  Throughout the rest of my shift, I try to be my usual upbeat and flirty self, but sexy, mysterious, fucking Jaxon Krieger keeps creeping back into my mind. I watch the door like a hawk, waiting, wanting him to come back so that I can give him a piece of my mind. At least that’s what I’m trying to convince myself.

  Sadly, he never does come back. Even Zach keeps his distance. I was sure once Jaxon left, he would be hot on my heels, trying to persuade me into joining him. But he stayed on the other side of the room, seemingly content with the VIP waitress instead of coming over to the bar himself.

  Probably for the best. The last thing I need right now is some rock star rebound. That just has the wrong decision written all over it. I do, however, catch him glancing over a few times and even giving a compulsory wave when I meet his gaze.

  Besides, bad boys were never my type. Nope, I always prefer guys a bit more business and a lot less…. Augh, fuck it. Jaxon is my type, from his amazing hazel green eyes right down to his custom-fitted suit and Ferragamo shoes. Not that buttoned-up business people are any less dangerous. Neil proved that quite adequately.

  Luckily, the rest of my shift passes quickly and is relatively uneventful, because I don’t think I can take much more. By the time two in the morning arrives, I am more than ready for my night to come to an end and go home. The bar is open till four, and on any other night, I would have stayed, but tonight my heart just isn’t in it.

  JAXON

  I make it to my office in record time, politely avoiding any potential conversation with employees or guests who happen to be roaming the halls. I keep an office and suit here at the Lenox because of the crazy hours I tend to follow, as well as having a secure place to meet international business associates who are staying in the city.

  Tonight, however, the office floor is thankfully deserted. Everyone apparently has plans on a Friday night. That is, all but Kap, who meets me as I exit the elevator.

  “I called Dannella. She should be here within the hour.”

  I outwardly cringe at the mention of her name. I probably should have been a bit more specific when making my request. Pretty much anyone except Dannella would be acceptable. But no… in my haste, the only requirement I gave was brunette, which she is. So points to Kap for following directions.

  Dannella, unfortunately, is looking for way more than I am willing to offer her, which in the past was nothing but my cock and fangs. Usually in that order.

  Kap has her phone out and ready to hit Dannella's number. “Should I just go ahead and cancel her?”

  Frustration and hunger course through my veins. “No, I’ll deal with her when she gets here. Thanks for taking care of…” I stop myself from saying me. But that’s what she is doing, what she has always done—take care of me. “The situation. I’ll… talk with her when she gets here.”

  We stop in front of my office, and I debate with myself whether I should ask her about Maitlin. I have no doubt she’ll be discreet and professional. That’s what she does, after all. “Would you be able to find out some information for me about an employee we have working at Rise?”

  “Of course. What’s the name?” She already has her phone out, ready to take notes. “I’ll pull their file from HR tonight and have it on your desk before tomorrow evening.”

  “No…I need… other information. Personal information.” I am looking anywhere but at Kap. She has a way of reading me like no other. If I look at her, she will know I am more than interested in Maitlin. It’s the downside of having Kap as my assistant—she knows every facet of my life. The good the bad and the very ugly. And not once has she ever passed any judgment. But this, this I have a feeling she would.

  “Oh, okay. What do you want?” Ready as always, she opens up her notes and begins to type down everything.

  “Where she’s from, her likes, dislikes.” I watch as she puts her phone down and gives me a look of confusion and disbelief. “What? It’s a simple request for information.”

  “I’m not going to be your pimp, Jax.”

  I tilt my head in disbelief. “I beg to differ.”

  “Tonight is an exception, for blood and the greater safety of New York. I can’t have you going out all…bitey and careless.”

  I had to laugh. She knows me too well. “All bitey?”

  “Look, Jax, you’re a relatively good looking guy… I guess. You can get the information yourself by —oh, I don’t know…by asking her.”

  She is right, of course. She always is. But realistically, the way I behaved earlier this evening isn’t going to win me any points. I was not only a rude prick, but an asshole of a boss as well. No, what I need is an advantage; one Kap can quickly get me. “Just this once. I won’t ever ask you to do this again."

  “Fine, but why?”

  Her phone is now gone, and she stands with her hands on her hips, demanding I tell her why I need the information. She is poking the lion, and she knows it. “Because I’m asking for it.” She tilts her head and deadpans me with a stare that could and is making a bloodthirsty predator shake in his boots.

  “I will not invade this woman’s privacy without an excellent reason. So you better start talking, or I will start walking. Your choice.” She takes two steps backward. “I mean it.”

  “Fine.” I lean against my office door and quickly relay the interaction I had with the sexy bartender Maitlin. Okay, maybe I leave out the fact that I was a complete prick to her after her interaction with Zach. But the moment her name leaves my lips, Kap’s expression completely changes.

  “No. Nope.” She shakes her head vehemently as if I’ve asked her to murder someone, not get me some information on a woman. “Absolutely not.” The few steps she took backward in her mocking retreat, she quickly regains and now stands in my personal space with her finger poking my chest as she speaks. “You will stay away from her. You are not to contact her, and you are not to … to even look at her. Am I making myself clear?”

  “You know her?” Excitement courses through me momentarily but is quickly eclipsed by her next words.

  “She is my niece’s friend, which makes her family. You will stay away from her. Do you understand me, Jaxon?”

  Well, fuck… rule number one—those who are sworn to protect us and anyone they deem to be family are off-limits. Hell, they’re rules that I had a hand in establishing to protect those who give so much to protect us. If she is Kap’s family, there is no way I can pursue her for anything. It is a rule that can never be broken, or for that matter, even bent.

  “Fine, she’s off-limits,” I say as I unlock my office door and push it open. In pure Kap form, she knows the conversation is over and leaves me to my brooding of the Maitlin situation.

  My office at the Lenox is just what you would expect from someone who owns a multi-billion dollar company. It’s obscenely large and surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides. Windows that were specially made and won’t allow any sunlight into the room on the off chance that I am stuck here during the day, which can happen. Not all my business is overseas, which easily explains my nocturnal habits
to anyone stupid enough to ask.

  The large mahogany desk, with its custom carvings of archangels wielding swords was made for me in France around the turn of the last century and is the only piece in the office that isn’t modern. Well, that and my sword that hangs behind a glass enclosure that is a reminder of everything I was and everything I lost.

  Frustrated, I flop down on my desk chair. I am agitated, horny and hungry and not necessarily in that order. I run my hands through my hair as I spin to stare out over the city from the fifty-third floor of my building. My mind is consumed by the sassy-mouthed bartender who doesn’t seem to care, or even know who I am. Well, not until I tossed down my business card like a complete dick.

  I’ve never met anyone who piqued my interest quite the way Maitlin has. And the fact that I’ve been around for nearly a thousand years says something to the fact that she now has me completely in knots. I want to know everything about her, including what her lips will feel like on mine and what sounds she’ll make as I bury myself inside her.

  As I stare out the window wondering why of all the women in this city, she has to be the one I can’t touch. My eyes catch the reflection of my laptop sitting on my desk. I can’t help myself from grabbing it and logging into the security feed of Rise. I know I shouldn’t, but I just have to see her again, even if it isn’t ever going to be in person. The moment the feed comes up, I see her behind the bar exactly where I left her, and just as beautiful.

  She is laughing and smiling with the patrons and with Leif, which still annoys me. I zoom in as close as I can get to her face, to those mesmerizing eyes of hers. Eyes, I can get lost in for all eternity. I switch angles and pan the camera to the area where Zach and his entourage sit. The moment I do this, he looks up directly into the camera and gives me the finger, smiles, and waves over to Maitlin. Asshole.

  I can’t tell you how long I sit there and watch her, but I’m unable to pull my gaze away from the screen. And when she looks up and smiles, I graze my fingers across her image like a fucking fool. Then, like a besotted idiot, I click to save the image, then print it. The photo that prints doesn’t do her beauty justice, but I know I’ll be keeping it. Just the memory of the sweet smell of her blood has my fangs extended, and I run my tongue along their sharp points.

  My video surveillance invasion into her evening is brought to a screeching halt by a tentative knock on my door.

  I shut my laptop just as my office door opens, and Dannella saunters in. She’s wearing a blue sundress that plays perfectly against her curves and sways effortlessly as she walks. The color reminds me of Maitlin’s blue eyes that somehow now stare up at me from her photo I placed on my desk. I turn it over and give the woman who is in my office my immediate attention.

  “I’m so glad you called me, Jaxon.” Her voice drips with seduction, just as she does as she continues to walk towards my desk, unbuttoning the small buttons down the front of her dress.

  By the time the last button opens, she stands in front of my desk naked, and the dress is a puddle of blue fabric pooled at her feet. I lean back in my chair and take her in. She is beautiful by anyone’s standards, with long, brunette hair that falls just halfway down her back. I can’t help but think that it is just a shade darker than Maitlin’s.

  She stands in nothing but a scrap of material that I’m not a hundred percent sure could pass for panties, but hey, to each his… or her own. Lust fills her deep brown eyes as she circles a pert nipple with her slender finger.

  My dick hardens, and my fangs extend as I watch her. I trusted her, and we were, at one time, in a pseudo-fucked-up relationship, if you can even call it that. We fucked and probably not even exclusively—on either one of our parts.

  Sure, I took her blood pretty consistently up until about a year ago, and I will admit, I was happy with our status-quo. But she isn’t someone I should be fucking or sucking tonight.

  Our relationship ended when she decided we needed to make our non-relationship “official.” I had neither the time nor the desire to do so, not then and certainly not now. Unfortunately, Kap doesn’t know that small, insignificant detail regarding our past relationship.

  She has only known what I told her—that Dannella is trustworthy, and I have taken her blood on more than one occasion. I’m not one to kiss and tell, so Kap has only the most basic of information.

  I turn in my chair as I watch her move around my desk until she stands between my legs in a scrap of black lace that I assume she considers to be panties. Dannella isn’t human, so there is no reason for me to retract my fangs. She has seen me as I am on more than one occasion. And seeing a full Blood Angel as Themis has made us is not something for the faint at heart.

  As if she can read my thoughts, her fingers brush down my cheek. “Don’t hide from me, Jaxon. You can let go with me.”

  Against my better judgment, I close my eyes and lean into her touch, even though I know better. Her touch is comforting, if only for the moment. I know this time my hunger is not going to be sated by her. This time, the need for blood feels… insatiable, like something deep and dark inside of me needs more.

  A vision of Maitlin’s coy, playful smile flashes through my mind. I need her, but she isn’t here, nor will she ever be. My hands grip Dannella’s hips and I pull her closer. The smell of soap and perfume invades my senses like rotten meat, and I push her back. She knows better than to wear perfume around me.

  A Blood Angel’s sense of smell is one of our greatest assets in hunting for our preferred blood type. Although, not something that we use as we once did when hunting meant survival. Now blood can be obtained by a simple phone call, but on occasion, we all enjoy the thrill of the hunt.

  She misinterprets my disdain for wanting to give her more room. She drops to her knees, and her hands move to my belt. She makes quick work of my zipper and cups my hardness with her hand, and she tilts her head to the side, revealing her long, alabaster neck with its pulsing vein that calls to my most primal hunger.

  “Take what you need, my love.”

  Her term of endearment brings me back from whatever fantasy I was having to forget the woman in front of me. I push away from her, rolling back in my leather office chair until a few good feet separate us.

  I stand and speak while tucking my still hard cock back into my trousers. “You need to leave, Dannella.”

  She looks up at me through her doe-like brown eyes and faux innocence as she begins to crawl closer on her hands and knees. Her tongue peeks out and she licks her full lips. “I want you, Jaxon, and I know you want me, or you wouldn’t have called,” she purrs.

  “You need to go… now,” I growl. My voice is garbled and troubled as I fight the urge to pounce forward and sink my fangs into her until she begs me to stop. There is no mistaking the look in her eyes as she grabs her blue dress from the pile on the floor. It is hurt …and fear. She fears me, as she should, in the condition I let myself get to.

  “You’re a fucking asshole, Jaxon. Do you know that? Don’t ever call me again.” She turns back toward me. “Next time you get the urge to sink your fangs or cock into someone, go fuck yourself.” My door slams shut as she storms out.

  I just have to have the last word, so I yell, not even caring if she heard me, “For the record, I didn’t call you!”

  I really can’t believe I sent away a sure thing to return to stalking a woman I barely know and have no business even looking at. Despite that fact, I still open my laptop back up and again search the security feed for Rise. When she isn’t there, I scroll through several other cameras until I find her sitting in the lobby… alone.

  MAITLIN

  Shellie is running a few minutes late, so I sit waiting for her in the hotel lobby, scrolling through my social media feed, which is never a good idea. Neil and I still have several mutual friends—friends I need to delete. But secretly I’m hoping one of them will post that he’s been run over by a garbage truck. Unfortunately, no such luck tonight.

  No sooner do I think abo
ut his untimely demise than, like a lousy omen, my phone vibrates in my hand. I’m pretty sure if you say his name three times out loud, he’ll appear out of thin air.

  A picture of us from last summer in Mexico pops up on the screen, another thing on my post-breakup to-do list I have yet to deal with. He has already called my phone enough times throughout my shift that I’m pretty sure any number of stalking laws should apply.

  Thankfully phones are to be left in our locker, so I didn’t have to be distracted by his constant texting and calling. Thirty-six new voice messages—all from him—are quickly dispatched. Select all, and…delete.

  My phone vibrates again, and instead of just letting it go straight to voicemail, I slide my thumb over the screen and answer. “Stop calling me.” My less-than friendly salutation barks out, instead of any form of warm greeting. I have no intention of falling into whatever game he is playing, and at nearly two-thirty in the morning, I also have no patience for him.

  “Well, hello to you too, Mait.”

  His voice, which I once found sultry and sexy, is now more like nails grating across a chalkboard. “I’m serious, Neil. You need to stop calling me, or I’ll get…” Fuck, I don’t even know what I’ll get. Maybe a restraining order, or a gang of Leif’s friends to teach him a lesson. I’m not even sure why he’s bothering to call. He’s obviously moved on, since the last time I saw him, his dick was in someone else. “I’ll get a restraining order, so you can’t call me.”

  “Baby, if you didn’t want me calling you, you would have changed your number or at very least blocked me. Just the fact you didn’t do either tells me you still love me.” He is trying to use his sweet voice, the one he always uses when he fucks up. Well, not this time.

  All I can do is shake my head as I sit in the nearly empty lobby. He is delusional if he thinks he is the only reason I haven’t changed my number. “Goodbye, Neil. Don’t ever call me again.” I pull the phone away from my ear, hitting the end button, wishing there is an app available that sounds like an old-time receiver slamming down on the cradle. No sound marks the end of a conversation like that one.