After, what seemed like ages, he finally answered, his voice coming through clear and resolute. “Fine. I’ll get Drake to pick you up first thing tomorrow morning from your house then.”
“No – ” I replied immediately, sounding completely blunt. There was no way in hell I was letting them anywhere near my apartment. Where I lived was a piece of information I did not want them knowing. It was one of my ways out if things went pear shaped, and I wasn’t going to risk anyone sabotaging that.
I saw the weird look Knox was giving me, so I purposely made myself appear calm and collected, and ensured my voice was level and steady before speaking again. “I mean…just pick me up from my office building. I’ll be waiting out front.”
“Fine, if that works better for you.”
“It does,” I quickly replied, before Ethan could change his mind, or start asking more questions, which would likely make him more suspicious about me.
“So be it.” He hung up, and Knox lowered his hand to put the phone back inside the front pocket of his jeans.
“What was all that about?” Knox asked, gazing at me with questioning eyes.
“What do you mean?” I replied, acting dumb. I stared back at Knox blankly, blinking my eyes as if I wasn’t hiding a tonne of secrets behind my fake facade.
Knox tilted his head and squinted his eyes at me, remaining silent for a good long moment as he assessed me. “Fine…” he conceded at last. “You may be reluctant to tell me now, but you’ll tell me eventually…I promise, somehow I will earn your trust.” And with that, he turned and started walking away.
I stood there dumbstruck for a moment. The guy had just completely read through me…he knew I was hiding something. At the same time, it felt like he’d just declared he was going to win me over – no matter what. I shivered involuntarily. Sexy.
No. No. No! I swatted the thought from my head. This was no time to fraternize with male strangers – even if they were super hot and attractive.
My face felt hot, and I raised my palms to my cheeks, cupping them, as I tried to cool down my flushed cheeks. For a moment there, when he’d made the pronouncement, my heart had skipped a beat.
What in the world was happening to me? I felt like my life was starting to spiral out of control.
And then reality hit me. I was about to move in with five sinfully hot men...all of whom seemed to know, one way or another, how to push my buttons.
What have I gotten myself into?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jasmine
Waking up the next morning, I concluded these midnight excursions of mine as a fox…were getting out of hand.
As I lay on the bed, flopped onto my back with my my arms outstretched, basking in the silkiness only expensive, thick, high threadcount cotton sheets could give, and thinking about how I was about to move in with five complete strangers, I felt the oddest sensation when my hand bumped against something furry.
I froze, frowning, even while my eyes were still half-closed, hazy with sleep. With my brows furrowing in consternation, I allowed my hand to wander over the soft lump resting underneath my bed covers.
Stilling, my whole body went rigid as the horror of realization slowly washed over me.
“…For fuck’s sake,” I swore, pulling my hand back in disgust. Pushing myself to sit up, I grabbed the edge of my blanket and threw it off. Low and behold: there was a bloody, white lump, lying still and unmoving on my bed.
Groaning at the mess, I found myself vaguely remembering my encounter with the now dead bunny rabbit, hopping about at the bottom of my apartment building the night before. Not only that, it looked suspiciously like the white pet rabbit belonging to the kid next door.
I chalked it all up to bad luck. The bunny had been there at the wrong place, at the wrong time…
Without much thought, I’d pounced on it, and took it upstairs thinking it’d make a nice bedtime snack. Only I fell asleep before eating it, and when I next woke up, my body had shifted back into its human form, and in this state, I felt no desire whatsoever, to eat a raw, dead carcass.
Those were the events which led my bed to be in such a complete mess. Red blood streaks and smudges stained the sheets and covers like a murder crime scene, and I groaned thinking how hard it would be to get the color red out of beige fabric.
It was lucky there was a mattress protector underneath; at least it saved me from having to buy a new bed. Yes, this certainly was not my first rodeo.
I looked down at my red, sticky fingers again, and felt disgusted. What I wanted more than anything right now was a nice long, hot shower.
❖❖❖
I did not make it on time to the meeting place to get picked up by Drake. To be clear – it wasn’t entirely my fault...
I would’ve made it on time except…on my way out the door with plastic bag in hand, intending to dispose of the furry ball of evidence inside, I saw the ten year old kid and his mother from next door walking down from the opposite end of the landing way.
The kid had his schoolbag on, and his mum was trying to console him…he was clearly upset. Putting two and two together, I slipped back inside through the doorway, thinking it best to avoid bumping into them – especially while I had the remains of his beloved pet, in my hand.
Waiting a good fifteen minutes to ensure the coast was clear, I was finally able to leave my apartment.
Guiltily, I walked a block down, to sneak the bunny’s dead body into one of the large dumpsters belonging to the apartments there…in case the kid chanced finding it in one of our complex’s bins.
Saying a quick prayer and an apology to the dead rabbit, I hefted the duffel bag I’d packed last night back over my shoulder, and headed towards my office.
Inside the duffel bag, I’d put in some clothes and spare shoes, along with some other necessities. Boring stuff like toiletries, a make-up bag, my laptop, noise-cancelling headphones – in case I got sick of listening to the boys talk – and some snacks – in case I didn’t feel up to socializing and just wanted to eat in my room.
Hidden at the bottom of the bag was my mother’s bracelet – which I felt more comfortable taking with me than leaving at home, unattended, and my favorite set of throwing knives. These were my weapon of choice. Better than a gun, in my opinion: because you couldn’t curve a bullet, but you could most definitely, curve a knife.
I spotted Drake’s car easily in the small carpark as I neared the building of my office. It didn’t escape my notice that the dent I’d made in the bumper was still there. I hurried my footsteps, knowing Drake was probably waiting impatiently for me, and approaching the driver’s side rapped on the dark window with my knuckles.
The window wound down, revealing Drake’s head, and a pair of brilliant green eyes, which were currently staring at me impatiently. “I was thinking maybe you weren’t going to show up,” he grumbled grouchily.
“Uh – yeah. Sorry about that,” I said as I heard him unlocking the passenger door. I walked over to the other side. “Had a little bit of an unexpected mishap this morning,” I explained getting in. Pulling the door shut with a whump, I threw my bag into the backseat, and tried to get comfortable.
Drake just grunted, giving no indication he accepted my apology, nor that he was rejecting it either. Shrugging, I knew this was as good as I was going to get from the reticent man, and I buckled on my seatbelt just as he pushed down the handbrake and pulled out of the parking spot, making for the carpark exit.
That’s when it hit me. I was sitting alone, and in a small confined place with a man I barely knew, who seemed to have an uncontrollable effect on my hormones, despite my best efforts to tamper down on them.
I groaned inside. This was going to be a freaking awkward forty-five minute car ride. Balls.
I cleared my throat. “So, anything else happen after I left last night?” I started, trying to make conversation and clear the slight tension in the air.
Drake glanced at me, narrowing his eyes, before turning them
back onto the road. “Nope,” he answered bluntly. I kept staring at him from the side, hoping he would have more to say...but that was all. A one word response.
Oh boy, this was going to be great. Not.
“Oh…” I replied, trying not to sound disappointed, wondering what I was going to do for the rest of the drive if this was the type of conversation I had to look forward to if I continued to try and make small talk.
Since I didn’t have anything to follow up with, we both fell into an uncomfortable and awkward silence.
I was surprised when after a minute or so, Drake spoke up, his deep voice breaking through the tension in the atmosphere. “Were you expecting something to happen?” I saw him lifting an eyebrow from the side of profile.
I shrugged, looking at my hands, distractedly rubbing the tips of my fingers on one hand with the right thumb and index finger of my other. “I thought maybe you all did something interesting afterwards to celebrate getting the scroll…or that you might have found out some new information.”
Drake snorted. “If you’re thinking we hung out together and gave each other a big group hug, then you’re going to be sorely disappointed. My brothers and I only tolerate each others’ presence because we don’t have a choice at the moment,” he said dryly.
Frowning, I lifted my head and turned to look at him. “What do you mean? Don’t you all get along?”
A laugh devoid of humor escaped from Drake’s lips. “Some of us get along to a certain extent…but for the most part we cooperate with each other out of pure necessity.”
I looked across at him curiously. “Is it because you all have different mothers?” I blurted out, unable to help myself from asking the question burning inside me. I cringed as soon as I heard the words leaving my mouth. If possible, Drake’s frown got even deeper.
“I mean…that is…Knox told me your father likes to keep concubines…” I revealed, speaking slowly and reluctantly, attempting to mend my faux pas, only to mentally face palm myself.
Smooth Jasmine. Real smooth…
‘…your father likes to keep concubines…’ I repeated my own words in my head, hearing how absurd my statement sounded. I was definitely not winning friends here.
There was a long, pregnant pause, and I knew I’d put my foot in it, when Drake surprised me by answering.
“…Partially…” he replied haltingly, then continued by saying, “in my family, you learn pretty quickly, it’s survival of the fittest…” Muttering the last bit unpleasantly, he trailed off, seemingly deep in thought.
I frowned. “You make it sound like it’s some sort of competition, or that you’re on a battlefield,” I remarked.
Drake was silent for a moment as he seemed to consider my statement. “Hmmm…that’s probably not too far off the mark.”
My brows shot up to my hairline, and I frowned even deeper, feeling even more confused now. “But you’re brothers…you’re family…”
Drake shrugged nonchalantly. “Yes, and that’s also the very reason why we’re forced to compete so fiercely, for supremacy against one another.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. What are you even competing for?” I asked, clueless about these sort of family dynamics since I’d never had any siblings. I’d largely lived the first part of my life with my mother, and then the second half by myself.
Drake paused, as if considering whether to answer my question or not. Finally, he let out a sigh, muttering in a low voice, “probably no point keeping this from you anyway…”
He raised his voice, speaking slightly louder and more clearly, so I could hear him properly. “We are all vying for the same inheritance…to hold the position of head of our family.”
“Doesn’t that normally go to the eldest child?” I asked, looking across at him with a confused expression. Or was my understanding of these matters way too basic and simple? In my experience, it was generally the case that the first born got first dibs on the family title and money.
“Usually it is, but…not in my family. It’s decided based on ability and merit – or so it should be. The reality is, there’s a good deal of favoritism involved, so regardless of your level of talent, it doesn’t guarantee you’ll inherit the position.”
I imagined there must be a shitload of assets and power at stake, and to inherit, for anyone to engage in fierce competition with their own siblings…
“So, your father is okay with his children fighting against one another, trying to claim the position of family head?” I asked in dismay.
Drake snorted derisively. “Not only is he okay with it, he encourages and instigates it,” Drake answered bitterly.
“Wow… That sounds…intense,” I responded, not really knowing what to say that would help comfort him.
My mind was going into overdrive as it struggled to process all this new information. Drake’s family sounded even more fucked up than I initially thought. What kind of father would pit his own children against one another?
“Am I right to assume you want this position as badly as your other brothers?” I asked in a small voice, thinking of Knox’s boyish smile and friendly face, and wondering what types of terrible things he’d been forced to do to his brothers and himself, in order to prove himself to his father.
The thought brought a shudder down my spine.
I saw Drake’s knuckles whiten as he gripped the steering wheel tighter, and from the side, I could see his jaw starting to tic. He seemed to narrow his eyes for a moment, as he stared hard at the road in front of him, before I saw him relaxing visibly a notch.
Whatever he was thinking seemed to rankle him far more than he liked.
“Not all of us want the position,” he finally said, then his voice became tight. “But yes; I do. Damien and I are the favorite contenders at the moment. But it doesn’t matter whether we want it or not. By tradition, we must all still compete for it. And our father expects no less from all of us.”
“Your dad sounds rather strict and unyielding,” I murmured, and when Drake didn’t deny it, I took it as confirmation of my opinion. “Is this artifact that you’re all looking so desperately for, a part of all this?” I continued, my brain slowly starting to connect to the dots.
Drake turned his head momentarily to look at me. His eyes were deep and penetrating as they assessed my face, trying to read beneath the surface, searching to see if there was some hidden motive.
He probably decided there wasn’t, because he turned back to the road, answering, “Yes, it does. Only this time, it’s not entirely up to the decision of my father...there are other key decision makers at play.”
I nodded my head, wondering who those people might be…
I decided against asking, as something told me Drake wasn’t going to divulge this piece of information to me.
There was a heavy sigh from beside me, and I twisted my head to look at Drake once more.
“I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this,” he said in consternation, running his hand through his hair and ruffling it at the back, leaving his coppery red tips to stick out messily, making him look younger than usual.
That’s when I examined him more closely. He didn’t look like he could be older than twenty-five, but his stiff and cold bearing seemed to make him seem much more older and serious than that.
He was very attractive, with perfect facial proportions and clear smooth skin most girls would die for. But he didn’t look boyish like Knox. With his strong, chiseled jaw, slightly rough three o’clock shadow, straight nose and perpetual frown creasing his forehead, he looked like a hard-planed, perfectly masculine sculpture cut from fine marble.
I gazed down.
Large hands controlled the steering wheel with expert ease, attaching to strong forearms, and powerful, muscular biceps and shoulders. He exuded an aura of pure dominance and tightly restrained power, promising a world of pain and swift defeat to anyone who would dare to provoke him…
A lesson I had learnt early on.
I was still eyeing Drake’s fine figure, when I saw him lift one hand off the steering wheel to switch on the radio. The action was like a silent signal: this was the end of our conversation; he was done talking for the rest of the drive.
I snuggled back into the cushy leather seat, and ruminated over everything he’d just told me. I wondered what his father looked like, and what sort of person he was, given what a hard-ass he sounded like. He didn’t seem like one of those warm, loving parents who doted on their kids. To be precise, he sounded like a tyrant.
I frowned, thinking it wasn’t such a surprise that Drake was the way he was with that kind of overbearing figure controlling his life; while at the same time I felt amazed at how Knox had turned out the way he did…
A memory of his kind, smiling eyes flashed inside my mind.
I suspect once I get to know Liam and Damien more, I’ll also be able to see the risidual signs this type of parenting was bound to leave.
Deep in my thoughts, I didn’t even realize when I drifted off to sleep. The smooth, steady motion of the car, and light purring of the engine seemed to rock me like some lullaby, wrapping me in a warm, safe cocoon…and before I knew it, I was dozing off.
Strange, considering I was sitting next to a man who just a day ago had wanted nothing less than to murder me…
Later, within the fog of sleep, I heard a familiar voice call out to me.
Remember.
Feeling myself frown, I tried to place the owner of the voice, but couldn’t. My brows scrunched down as I tried to recall when I’d last heard the voice as it spoke again.
Remember who you are…
Some sort of recognition seemed to spark inside my mind, as I felt myself trying to latch onto the passing memory…
I’d heard that voice recently. I was damn sure of it… Now when was it…
The darkness of slumber seemed to draw me in, making it a struggle to retain my train of thought.
There was a heavy pressure behind my eyelids as I fought to remain semi-conscious, so I could hear the voice once again and figure out its origins.
Dragon Lords Blood Contract Page 13
