Of course, he didn’t have to avoid Ari’el. She was merely a child, her future mate perhaps determined—again, something he’d learned about angel destinies, blah, blah, blah—but not sealed, so for now, Oliver could safely hold her in his arms. The first time he’d held her, he had nearly freaked, fearful he would injure her in some way. Since then, he’d realized the baby merely needed warmth and security, and his arms could provide that.
“I still can’t believe how perfect she is,” Penelope whispered, softly touching Ari’el’s puffy cheek.
Oliver continued to stare down at his niece, not sure what to say. He knew his sister wasn’t using the term literally, but he could see the perfection the same as she could. Her little nose, the tiny, almost nonexistent eyebrows, pursed lips, and smooth, rounded cheeks. Unlike some people, he couldn’t tell who she resembled. She had black hair like her father, but her mother’s coloring. And yes, all of it came together perfectly to create the sweet angel.
He had no idea how long he remained like that, but voices in the kitchen drew his attention, and he looked up to see Bijou had come in. She was talking so animatedly with Phillip, he almost smiled but managed to refrain.
“How are things with you two?” Penelope asked, her voice so soft it barely registered.
“We haven’t talked in … a while,” he admitted.
“I’m sorry. I know you two had become friends.”
They had and perhaps that was what Oliver missed the most. He’d had someone to spend time with, to talk to. She had been interested in him on a personal level and vice versa. These days he felt completely alone. The job with the fiestreigh helped because it kept his mind occupied for a good ten hours of the night, but there were still too many hours left when the metaphorical darkness would creep in, threatening to strangle him.
His attention shifted back to Ari’el, and he smiled, couldn’t help it. He lifted her higher up his chest, pressed a kiss to her forehead before passing her back to her mother.
“I think I’ll turn in,” he told her. “Thank you for this.”
“Anytime you want to see her, Oliver. Anytime.”
He nodded, then studied his sister’s face for a moment. She was no longer the same girl he’d grown up with. His sister was now a mom, a wife. An angel. But he didn’t think those things had changed her as much as he’d originally thought. No, Oliver was pretty sure his sister had changed long ago, and he’d been so wrapped up in his own anger, his own sense of betrayal that he’d never noticed.
His loss, that was for sure.
“See you tonight,” he told her.
“Sleep well, Oliver.”
Yeah, probably wasn’t going to happen.
But like he had for the past few weeks, he would pretend.
After all, it was the only thing that got him through the long nights and even longer days.
Bijou watched Oliver leave the sunroom, head hanging low as he made his way down the hallway to the back stairs. He seemed different to her. Where she’d previously seen life, now only exhaustion resided. Though it had been but a few weeks since their falling-out, it felt like an eternity, and that familiar ache intensified in her chest.
It was her chance, she knew. An opportunity to confront him, to tell him she was sorry for everything that had happened, and ask him to forgive her.
His footsteps sounded in the stairwell, then on the floor above her, moving down the hall to his—
Before she knew what she was doing, Bijou vanished her corporeal form, then resumed it on the second floor in front of his bedroom door. Oliver started, his head jerking upward, eyes wide when they landed on her.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, then realized it sounded like she was apologizing for startling him. “Not for this. Well, yes, this, too. But more…” Inhale, exhale. Slow and steady. “I wanted to apologize for my actions of late.”
Oliver’s dark eyebrows lowered. “Actions?”
Bijou waved in the direction of the pool. “You know, when I made you … do what you did.”
His laugh was strong but lacked any amusement. “You didn’t make me do anything, Bijou. What happened… It was a mistake.”
Ouch. No denying that hurt.
However, she had to agree with him. Not because she hadn’t wanted it to happen. Or because she didn’t secretly wish it would happen again. But what transpired between them had set the course for the destruction of their friendship. And that was her fault. She had pushed him that night, begged, pleaded. He probably believed she would’ve done that regardless of who she’d been with, but that wasn’t true. Bijou had wanted Oliver that night, had seen it as an opportunity to bring them closer.
It had been wrong of her, she knew that now. Oliver hadn’t wanted to take their friendship to another level, and she’d assumed he would if she simply made a move. Lessons learned.
“Can you forgive me?”
His eyes raked over her face. “Nothing to forgive.”
Not sure what she was doing, Bijou took a step forward. “I’d like us to be friends.”
“We are friends,” he countered.
“I want to be friends like we were before. Not the kind who avoid each other.”
“I’m not avoid—”
Bijou held up her hand. “Let’s not pretend. It’s a waste of time for both of us. I’m apologizing to you, Oliver. I owe you that much. If you don’t want to be friends, I get it. I totally do.”
His mouth opened, closed.
She waited, hoping he would say something to clear the air between them. She could tell he had something he wanted to say.
When the silence grew painful between them, Bijou offered a smile. “Anyway. That’s what I wanted to say. I’m sorry. Really sorry, Oliver.”
Stepping to the side, she moved around him and started toward her bedroom.
“Hey, Bijou?”
Her heart leaped into her throat and she managed to turn around. “Yeah?”
“You wanna catch a movie? Like, maybe Saturday morning?”
When she smiled, she felt it brighten every cell in her body. “I would like that, yeah.”
His smile was dim, but it was genuine. “I’ll come find you. Say eight o’clock?”
Bijou nodded, then watched as he opened his door and slipped inside.
It was a start, she reminded herself as she followed his lead, going into her own room.
Definitely a start.
Making her way to the closet, she quickly disrobed, pulling on her pajamas. She then headed for the sink and went through her daily routine of washing her face, brushing her teeth. Face lotion came next. Hand lotion to follow. When she got into her bed, she snagged the last bottle of lotion from her bedside table, slathered her feet before slipping beneath the sheets. Bijou willed the lights off and lay in the dark. She considered starting a fire in the hearth, decided against it as she pulled the blankets up to her neck.
She thought back to the conversation she’d had with Oliver a few weeks ago, when she’d asked about his parents.
“My mother ran off with a younger man,” Oliver explained. “My father buried himself in work. It was rare we saw either of them after they split. I take that back. We rarely saw them before that, either.”
“Do you see them now?” She waved her hand. “I mean, before you came here.”
“No. My father calls from time to time, though.”
“Do you talk to him?”
“Every once in a while. He’s more interested in giving me shit, telling me how I’ve fucked up my life.”
“Does he know you’re here?”
Oliver shook his head. “Thinks me and Penelope are still in Vegas. It’s not like he’d come visit, so I don’t have to worry about him showing up there.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s not like I miss him.”
“I miss my mother,” she admitted, surprised the words had come out.
Oliver shifted on the sofa, turning so he was facing her mo
re fully. “I heard what happened to her.”
Bijou focused on her hands, clasping and unclasping in her lap. “They killed her.”
The pain burned in her chest when she thought about how her mother had died alone in their house, the shadow beasts having sensed her, following her from the grocery store. Bijou had been out with friends that night, hanging out, having fun. All the while, her mother had been suffering at the hands of those demons.
“How did you find Kaj?” he prompted.
“My mother kept a journal. I found it in the wreckage of the house. She’d tucked it under her mattress, and I guess it had fallen out when they ransacked the place.”
Now, as she lay in the darkened bedroom of the mansion, Bijou thought back to that journal. She hadn’t intended to violate her mother’s privacy, but by then, a month had passed since her death and she’d been missing her so much. She had been staying in a motel, trying to figure out where she would go next, what she was going to do. She’d had nothing at the time. Nothing more than a human driver’s license that worked to allow her to function within the human world.
That night, she had been crying, clutching the journal because it was the only thing she had left of her mother. When the tears had finally dried on her cheeks, Bijou had opened the book, flipped through the pages. On the very last page, she saw her name. It had been a note for her. As though her mother had expected one day she would find the journal. She could still see those words on the page, her mother’s fastidious handwriting. The note had told her how much she loved her, how proud she was of her. It had broken Bijou’s heart all over again, knowing she hadn’t been there to save her mother.
But it was what had come after that that she would remember for always: I’ve never told him about you, and for that, I am forever sorry. But your father’s a good man, a proud man. If he knew about you, he would’ve wanted to be a part of your life. I hope one day you’ll find him. While your conception was an accident, I’ve never seen it as such. From the moment I learned of you, I wanted you with all that I was. My biggest regret is not allowing him to know. Should something ever happen to me, Bijou, know that you can turn to him. He will take care of you. He’s that kind of male.
Bijou remembered being angry at the time. Her mother had spoken so highly of the male who had fathered her, yet she hadn’t told Kaj about her. To this day, she didn’t understand, and she had never bothered to ask Kaj.
One day, maybe.
It had been the next night when Bijou had taken her backpack that had everything she owned, and her mother’s car, and gone in search of Kaj. Little had she known that her entire world would change once more when she found him. At the time, she hadn’t put two and two together. Not once had she connected the dots.
Imagine her surprise when she’d finally realized that her father was the direct descendant of the royal family. By the time she’d found him, her father had become the Alpha vampire.
Shortly before nightfall, Perfidious crawled out of his warm bed and made his way down to Asmia’s cell.
He could see through the bars that his sweet fairy was asleep in the big bed, her lithe body covered by all those blankets.
Freeing the padlock with his mind, he opened the door and stepped inside. He moved over to the bed, patted her arm.
“Good evening, gorgeous,” he greeted, watching her face for signs of distaste.
“Good evening, my king,” she rasped softly, her lids cracking open, a smile forming on her luscious mouth.
Nope. No signs that she wasn’t completely content to be at his beck and call. The mind control was still working.
“What brings you to me this evening?” she asked, shifting to her back as he pulled the blankets down, revealing her beautiful naked form to his hungry gaze.
“It’s time to prepare you for our guests’ arrival.”
Her eyebrows dropped an inch. “Prepare?”
“I’ve got an important meeting this night,” he informed her. “And it’s imperative that you’re there with me.”
“It would be my honor, my king.” Asmia slowly sat up. “What shall I do to prepare?”
Perfidious motioned for the exit. “I’ve got everything you’ll need in my chambers.”
He’d sent Sirius out last night to retrieve the items that would allow his female to pamper herself in preparation for the ritual Perfidious intended to perform. While he’d intended to send Sirius on his merry way, there was no denying the demon was still useful. Since Perfidious couldn’t leave Asmia, he needed someone to tend to his shopping and various errands. The male didn’t seem keen on the idea, but he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. As far as Lucifer was concerned, Sirius was a minion to be used and abused by the mesonneir. And since Perfidious still held the glorious title, he wasn’t above using his status to get what he needed.
“Come now.” He motioned for her to get out of the bed.
Asmia moved with grace, her long legs sliding over the edge of the mattress, her elegant feet lowering to the floor. Perfidious snagged her silk robe from where it hung over the bedpost, then helped her into it. Though he preferred she be naked at all times, he wasn’t keen on giving Sirius a peek at her. Not yet. Not until the ceremony. Until then, she was for his eyes only.
At that point, every demon in residence would see her beauty as he claimed her as his own.
And at that time, Asmia would get her first glimpse of what he truly was.
After all, it was the demon who would be taking her as his own.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“What exactly am I looking at?” Kaj asked Blāz.
The male had insisted he have an hour of Kaj’s time first thing tonight to go over something important.
That was how Kaj found himself in what appeared to be an office. Oddly, it was set up much in the same way Kardobahn’s had been. The room had one wall of dark wood shelves lined with books varying in size and color. A navy rug with some intricate, old-world pattern lay in the center of the space. A wall of windows seemingly brought the outdoors in, though there wasn’t anything to see thanks to the dhira the angels had erected. There was a fire going in the hearth. The Courtenay family crest hung above the mantel. And of course, there was an enormous mahogany desk with a burgundy-leather executive chair that was surprisingly comfortable if Kaj did say so himself.
A black leather blotter sat on top of the wood beneath the fancy Apple MacBook Kaj found himself staring at, a Mont Blanc sitting on a legal pad off to the side.
Blāz pointed over Kaj’s shoulder at the screen. “This is the email account we use to contact the Alpha.”
“Who’s we?”
“We,” Blāz said with a chuckle. “The common folk.”
Right.
Squinting, Kaj stared at the number reflected by the inbox. “Does that say … two thousand?”
“Two thousand, four hundred and seventy-nine to be exact,” Blāz agreed. “And believe it or not, I’ve been going through them for the past week. I’ve managed to tackle a good thousand, but they’re coming in fast.”
As though his comment triggered the sync, another four popped in. As he skimmed the names of the senders, he was saddened to say they weren’t junk email or spam. He scanned several of the others. Nope, none of the Sexy woman seeks handsome man or The last diet you’ll ever need or CBD is your best friend lingering for him to delete. All looked legit from where he sat.
Legit and more than a little daunting.
It wasn’t like Kaj knew how to answer someone’s request to mate. Just mate. Why the hell did they need his permission?
Or the announcement about an upcoming birth, his presence requested at the welcoming ceremony.
“What exactly am I supposed to do with these?”
“Answer them.”
Kaj jerked his attention to the male standing beside him. “I’ll be here for the rest of my goddamn life. I can’t reply to all these.”
Nor could he be at all these places to oversee and
welcome. Fuck.
His gaze shot to the keyboard, thinking about the hunting and pecking that would take place just to type out a good evening.
Blāz chuckled. “I agree.”
Thank God.
“Which is why I’m suggesting you hire an assistant.”
He peered back at Blāz once more. “An assistant?”
The male nodded. “I was actually thinking Bijou would be good.”
Kaj shook his head. “Not Bijou. I’ve already asked her to help with firearms training.”
“Then we bring someone in from the outside.”
“Yeah?” Kaj chuckled. “A stranger? You want to bring a stranger here?”
“Kardobahn had help,” Blāz noted. “A lot, in fact.”
True. Kaj rarely interacted with his father’s staff, but he’d seen them flitting about. Unfortunately, they’d all been slaughtered during the attack.
“And how do we do that?” Kaj asked. “How do we find vampires willing to work for the Alpha?”
“Easy.” Blāz leaned over, twisting the laptop toward him, then tapping on the keys. He turned it back. “These are job boards.”
Kaj stared at the screen. There before him were dozens of posting for jobs, each with various wording that humans would likely not understand but that would make perfect sense to vampires. A few were even in the ancient language.
“Give me the go-ahead and I’ll start tossing up some postings. I’ve got a couple out there already seeking vestrahn, though we’ve yet to receive any responses.”
That didn’t sound good. “Why not?”
“I was probably a bit vague. Now that we’ve settled in, I know more of what we need, so I can be more specific.”
They needed everything. Butlers, maids, chefs. As much as Kaj appreciated the heurosp who were temporarily assisting, they weren’t vampires, which meant their loyalties were not to them. And ultimately, Kaj wanted to provide for his people, give them opportunities they might not otherwise have.
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