by Lauren Dane
“Course not. She’s not a present. Star gave herself to you. I only introduced you.”
“Are you some sort of magic dog?” Rowan asked Star. Intelligent and curious amber eyes blinked back at her. She had a black coat with golden markings on her face and chest. Including the star shaped one that’d most likely given her the name.
“A cat would have been a very bad choice for you. And a lot of them were wary about you. Star here, well she knows her mind.”
“Is that so? I do like a lady who knows her own mind. It’s sort of my jam.”
Star licked her nose and it wasn’t disgusting.
“I’ll be seeing you soon enough. This one is going to take some work,” Carl said before he got out of the car.
“Where are you going?” Rowan called out after him.
“I’ll find my way. You do the same and let the dog and your little supernatural friends watch your back.”
He did a little jig and like a heat shimmer, faded from sight.
“That’s a really cool trick.”
Clive wasn’t going to go easily into the box marked dog owner. She bet in the old days he had those English wolfhounds other people took care of.
Star jumped into the front seat and made herself at home.
“Okay then, magic dog. Let’s go home. I’m going to have to do really dirty things with your new daddy to ease your transition into the family,” Rowan muttered as she pulled back out to the road.
Chapter Two
“Here’s a thought,” Rowan said while she took in her very grumpy spouse.
He’d just touched down in their backyard and had sauntered into the house all smooth and debonair but the line between his eyes and the set of his mouth told of his ruffled feathers.
Her super competitive, hyper achieving alpha Vampire had been used to being the best at everything he tried for so long, he was decidedly averse to anything else. His inability to access what had always been a unique and powerful Vampiric gift was eating away at him.
It was time to get this situation in hand before she broke furniture over his increasingly grumpy head because she rather liked fucking him but being crosswise with him—in truth seeing him distressed—was uncomfortable for her.
Ugh. She was sappy now. That was what love got you.
“This never ends well for me,” he grumbled.
Rowan rolled her eyes at him. So spoiled.
“Listening to me always ends well for you. It’s when you don’t that there’s a problem. So. Back to my idea so we can remedy that. Guess who I ran into earlier tonight?”
“I need a cup of tea for this, I can tell,” he muttered as he started toward the kitchen of their beautiful new home complete with a freaking butler slash house manager and his wife, a fantastic cook and housekeeper.
“Elisabeth, Clive would like a cup of tea,” Rowan called out.
“Of course he would. And who wouldn’t after a long night of work?” Elisabeth replied as they entered her domain. “There’s dinner soon but the teapot is already out on the table there for after you’ve changed your clothes.”
Clive looked down at himself and corrected his trajectory, heading to the side of the house their bedrooms were located in. His was a light tight vault where he spent his daylight hours. Not in a coffin or anything like that—though she teased him about it from time to time. A super luxurious bed with one of those mattresses that was perfection naturally. He liked his comforts, did her Scion.
They shared a communal sitting room connecting her bedroom to his. The space was super comfortable, sporting a television that tucked away into a cabinet and a fireplace. It was a room she could easily see them spending those hours before sunrise together just watching movies.
The whole setup was custom made for her. He paid attention to what she wanted. What she needed. And he made it happen. Sure he was grumpy and a control freak, but what Vampire wasn’t a control freak? No one in the world understood her the way he did. No one saw all her jagged edges, her flaws, her scars and hang-ups and accepted her so openly. Even covetously. He didn’t just look at her; he saw her.
She still wasn’t ready for it sometimes. It left her befuddled and anxious and off balance. But less and less the longer they were together. They fit and she accepted it. A gift.
Her pleased musings about how their new home was something he’d done for her came to a screeching halt when Clive made a surprised then annoyed sound.
“What the bloody fuck is that?”
It wasn’t like she’d eaten nachos in his bed or anything so she stepped forward, curious as to whatever he was so worked up over.
Star lay on his bed. Legs up in the air, head tilted to see the door, her tongue hanging out the side of her widely grinning mouth.
Good Goddess.
“We talked about you waiting until the time was right to meet your new dad,” Rowan said as she pushed past her husband. “Your belly is very nice. Don’t tell anyone or I’ll deny it,” she added in a whisper before giving Star a belly rub.
“Rowan. What have you done?” Clive asked through a jaw clenched tight.
“Get changed and we’ll talk about all sorts of things. There’s tea and dinner waiting.” She pointed at Star and then the floor. Star snorted but rolled and hopped down.
“Tell me these things as I change from this suit.”
Normally, if he’d been that arrogant she’d have flipped him off and left the room. But she had a lot to tell him and talk him into, so it paid to follow him into his closet and at least pretend to be slightly reasonable.
“So, back to what I was saying when you first got home.”
He hung his tie carefully before he shot her a look. “Not that. The thing that got fur on my bed. That living thing.”
Star trotted in like Rowan hadn’t just put her out in the hall. She paused to sit at Rowan’s feet and stare up at Clive with that same grin she’d had earlier.
“Well. So this is Star. She’s sort of like my guide or keeper or something like that. A familiar? Whatever she is, she’s a magic dog.”
Brigid warmed Rowan’s belly. The Goddess approved of Star and already had protective feelings over her.
“You can’t just bring a dog home. We’re not dog people.”
“I bet you had dogs when you were galloping around England rutting and looking gorgeous and being rich.”
He smirked at her after his head popped out of the neck of his sweater. “Don’t think I’m unaware that you’re flattering me. Yes, I did have dogs at one time. But that was a few centuries ago. They did not get on the furniture.”
“Seems to me, it’s time to switch it up now that we’ve got electricity and running water.”
He made another annoyed sound and she had to bury her snicker.
“Where did you get this dog? You’ve avoided that answer twice now.”
“Have I?”
He glared at her after pulling on jeans she knew were buttery soft. Rowan shoved her hands in her pockets to keep from stroking his butt.
“Quick version. I had a visit with Carl today. He brought Star to me then. And told me a bunch of stuff that’ll take a while to unfold.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and she went to him, going up on her toes to move his hand aside and kiss that spot. Goddess, he was adorable when he was frustrated with her.
“For god’s sake, Rowan, we’ve only been back in Las Vegas for two days. I leave you alone for a moment and you come home with an animal.”
She took his hand, tugging him out toward the kitchen. “Not a drop of blood on me though. Which is pretty snazzy, right? Don’t I get credit for that? Come on. Tea and food and explanations.”
“I’m positive I’m going to regret this,” he muttered and she gave in to laughter.
“You are not.”
He harrumph
ed but followed her out to the eat-in kitchen where of course the tea was ready. And his favorite. Earl Grey with extra bergamot. Lemons had been sliced up and added to a wide variety of sugar cubes and other things along with a little pitcher of milk for Rowan’s black tea.
Star trotted past them and settled next to Rowan’s chair, resting her head on her paws with a satisfied sigh.
“Tell me,” Clive said with a glance in Star’s direction.
“Carl says she’s sort of a familiar and that she chose me.”
“And what do you think about that claim?” Clive asked.
Rowan paused as she considered. “I don’t ever discount what Carl says. It feels...right. She’s got an attitude, which seems like a good fit with me. Also I got a call about my car and it’s going to cost me several grand. There’s some such thing front-end something or other and it’s broken. Insurance will cover all but a few hundred bucks so that’s nice, huh?”
“It’s greatly disturbing when you’re chipper. Stop it. I’m going to have nightmares. Genevieve should look it over to be sure there’s nothing magical about the mechanical problem. Back to the dog now.”
“I already told you. She’s an Australian kelpie and apparently they’re good at guiding or whatever. But she’s more than that. He says Star chose me. Like there was something mystical involved and she’s something akin to a familiar.”
He sat back in his chair and looked over at Star a moment. The dog looked back at him steadily. “Will you be her keeper then?” Clive asked.
“Well, isn’t that sort of what a dog owner does? Plus she seems pretty capable of taking care of herself though she can’t use a can opener to get food.” She wouldn’t tell Clive about how a case of some fancy wet food stuff showed up in the pantry between when Carl arrived with Star and Rowan’s arrival at home.
Clive smirked a moment and then shook his head. “Not you, Rowan. I’m asking the dog. You have thumbs to use a can opener, but you need more than one keeper and I suppose I can make allowances for a hairy beast in our yard if that beast herds you away from danger while I’m not around to do it.”
Star barked once and then settled back down, head on her paws once more.
Rowan decided not to argue with the yard comment. Star was going to sleep in the house, naturally. She already had a bed in Rowan’s room and had apparently made herself comfortable in Clive’s as well.
His acquiescence to the dog had lifted her spirits, so she figured she should broach the whole Genevieve thing as her witchy friend was coming over for a meal soon enough and there’d been enough surprises, which he only reacted well to if they were about sex anyway.
As if he’d read her mind, he sighed heavily. “What else?”
“Okay so. Hear me out. Today with Carl, he mentioned you. Said there was dark magic on you. Connected to Lyr. And since you’ve had trouble accessing his memories and stuff when you’re usually immediately able to, he’s obviously right. Genevieve is a witch and does witchy stuff and she can check you over to see what’s going on.”
Clive said in his exceedingly polite and yet super condescending fashion, “I don’t need that. It’s only been a few days. Each time I take memories it’s a different process. A witch doesn’t need to explain a Vampire’s gifts to him. I know my power.”
It had been a week by that point since they’d killed Lyr, a super old Vampire with lots of magic tricks up his sleeve. Clive had bested him in battle and in doing so, he’d used his particular set of gifts to tap into Lyr’s memories.
Or rather, he’d attempted to.
Vampires were hugely vain. Obsessed with rank and power and where they stood in relation to everything else in their orbit. It was the bane of Rowan’s existence, but she understood it to her core. Had been raised deep within the Vampire culture and many of those things had been drummed into her.
So Clive, the Vampire Scion of North America, super feared, respected and powerful predator, was not going to easily accept his Vampiric gifts not working to his expectations. That lack of results had Clive pacing and snarling and pretending it wasn’t even that big a deal. As if she didn’t know him and his perfectionist ways better than anyone else.
Rather than engage, Rowan continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “She just got back to Las Vegas earlier today so she’s coming over here shortly to look at the new house and to have dinner. Two birds one stone. It’s meant to be if you really think about it.”
“It seems you’ve been thinking about this.” The accusation in his tone had her back up but she knew he was doing it on purpose so she let it pass.
“Of course I have. It’s like we just met. Look, you know, just have her take a glance. What could it hurt?”
“It’s a waste of time,” he said in a tone so haughty she had to snicker and wave a hand his way.
“Don’t use the Scion-disciplining-the-underling voice on me,” she warned.
“It’s unnecessary to have a witch poking around in my head. I am more than fine, thank you.”
Rowan managed not to roll her eyes at the ice he tried to build a wall around himself with. “If it were me, you’d be saying the same thing. She’s not going to hurt you. You know that. You said yourself Lyr was a very unique Vampire. He had all that magic and stuff. So maybe the process of accessing his memories is different in a way Genevieve can see. Carl says. He’s a sage and everything.”
One of his perfectly shaped eyebrows rose as he stared her down.
“One might feel as if one’s spouse went around them to do whatever she wanted. Apologize instead of ask for permission? Isn’t that one of your quaint sayings?”
“I can see how it looks that way.” Probably because it was that way. But it was for a good reason and she had to be the bad guy as the wife sometimes. Right? And hello, sage. Carl was a for real kookoopants but when he told her Clive had dark magic in him, Rowan believed it utterly. “But this seems pretty close to emergency, klaxons sounding type stuff, and it’s not even just me thinking so.”
And still, Clive clenched his jaw so tight she heard a click.
“Are your results for this investigation so important to you, you’d rush me? Toss me and my efforts to the side if I can’t get you answers on your schedule?”
Though she knew he was being pissy, it still hurt that he’d even suggest such a thing. Which was why he’d done it.
* * *
Clive regretted the words the moment they flew from his lips. Regretted it more when he saw them land on the woman he loved like a series of slaps.
He growled, hating that he was going to have to apologize and let the witch poke around in his head because he’d been a prick. And there was a bloody dog in his kitchen. Another thing he’d have to tolerate, especially in light of his outburst.
Rowan spoke, wringing her hands a moment before she realized she was doing it and stopped, which only made him more sorry. “It’s not that and you know it. Look. You hate it when you’re not perfect. You haven’t been resting as much as you should. Even your daytime rest has been fitful. I’m worried that whatever it is inside you can’t get out and it’s going to hurt you.”
Though her tone was careful and wary, digging itself into his already guilty conscience, she squared her shoulders and looked him straight on. “I’m the wife and I have to make you do things you’re too stubborn to admit you need to do. Sometimes. Anyway. It’s part of the married thing so be mad all you want and say things you can’t take back. But Genevieve needs to look you over. A sage told me so and I agree and that is fucking that.”
His agitation flitted away as he leaned over to pull her close, burying his face in her hair. Her stiffness melted away as he said, “I apologize. I don’t think that. I struck out at you because you were right and it made me cranky.”
She snorted and he hugged her tighter, letting her unique magic and the beat of her heart soothe his annoyance an
d some of his guilt.
Just some, because he took his promise to care for her seriously and he’d just bollocksed it up. He’d need to think over something fitting as a better apology.
When she sat back from him after breaking their embrace, he stayed her with a hand at her cheek. “You’re everything to me. I truly am sorry.”
He was so much smoother than he was acting at that moment. Normally, he knew exactly how to manage his prickly wife but she was right. He’d been frustrated that Lyr’s memories hadn’t surfaced immediately. Even more frustrated that things hadn’t worked the way they always had.
And he took it out on the one person who understood him and trusted him.
Damn it all.
“Finish your tea. It always calms you down. Genevieve will arrive in about half an hour for dinner and then she can look you over. Don’t complain when she smokes weed. And stop frowning. It’s not like she’s going to put an ultrasound wand up your bum or anything.”
He nearly choked on his tea and Clive noted Elisabeth ducking her head, trying not to laugh. “Rowan.”
She snickered, leaning forward to kiss him quickly. “I’m not lying, am I?”
“Let us all sincerely hope not. Now, how about you tell me what else your friend the sage had to say.”
“Some of it was magic stuff. I think he was talking about lines of power. Ley lines? But I think the ley lines are in different places so I need to follow up with Genevieve about what he said. Something about friction. Canyons. Power building where things touch.” She shrugged. “I need to think on it a while. Work through with keywords, see if I can figure out what he means before something catastrophic happens.”
“A great deal of our life is your last sentence, darling Hunter.”
No kidding.
Chapter Three
Genevieve showed up looking effortlessly pretty. Like flowers in a vase. Rowan braced herself for the hug and the dual cheek kiss, awash in the heady scent of roses and a bit of jasmine.
