13
SMELL THE ROSES
ENZO
A driana glances at me, questioning whether I’m serious.
I nod and take another sip of champagne, reclining on the sofa as she decides she likes another pair of shoes. My girl was beginning to get comfortable with the extravagant, exorbitant shopping trip I’d taken her on, but the growing pile of boxes has knocked her confidence.
“Just get what you want, baby.”
She bites her lip nervously, presumably worried that she isn’t pleasing me. Perhaps she thinks she’s spending too much money, or maybe not enough. She glances down at the shoes and I wonder if she thinks they’re not to my taste.
I pull my phone out, excuse myself, and call Eva. My assistant picks up immediately, confirming that she’s either in the process of acquiring the lingerie I’d requested or that it’s already been delivered to Adriana’s closet.
My girl’s in for quite the surprise when we get back home—and I haven’t even shown her any of my other toys yet. First, I need her to accept her place and accept what I know to be true. She’s kinky as fuck, and her tastes are varied. She loves praise and degradation, humiliation and adoration, and she’s both timid and adventurous.
Adriana’s a fascinating mix, and she is truly unique.
I’ve played with thousands of women and never found one like her, and she is worth the time I spent waiting. She’s worth the effort of protecting and as much as I dislike attachment, it would be a lie to say I have no feelings towards her.
Eva passes me some information about some of the other demons and my ears prick when she describes their movements. I know when those other fuckers are up to no good, and this lot is planning something. They’ve also roped some vampires in by the sound of it, and this needs stamping out. Quickly. Before it escalates and I’m forced to deal with it myself.
It'll be inconvenient if I have to get involved.
Worse, it’ll mean leaving Adriana here or taking her to the underworlds with me—and she isn’t ready.
I bark some orders, hang up, and message Byron.
He also responds instantly, agreeing to do what I need him to. My temper flares when he asks how Adriana is doing and I send a short, sharp text reminding him of his place.
When I turn around, Adriana has made her way to another part of the shop and is admiring some more bags. Her fingers run over their leather and she tries them on her shoulder before gingerly putting them back on the shelf. The shop assistant is trying to encourage her, but Adriana is hesitating, clearly wanting them but holding back.
I call the manager over and settle the bill, including for the bags Adriana put back on the shelf. The driver can take the vast array of boxes and packages home while we are spending our time doing something more pleasing.
“Do you mind a short walk?” I ask, smiling as I walk over.
“Where are we going?” Adriana replies.
I beam down at her and place a kiss on her cheek. “It’s a surprise. You’ll like it.”
The shop assistants practically swoon and Adriana shoots them withering looks. She’s jealous, and that’s good. Jealousy means she cares. She’s marking me as hers, and I’m more than content for her to be possessive, especially if it gets her closer to where I want her to be.
I guide her out of the shop, showering her with adoring looks as I tuck her under my arm. She protests that we need to pay and I reassure her it’s all taken care of, failing to mention the additional bags I’ve bought her.
We stroll down the street, and she leans into me. Adriana’s relaxing and we talk about her new job. She’s excited, and it’s adorable, and while she holds my attention, I keep an eye on everything else going on around us.
The streets of London are far from safe, and Adriana doesn’t realize how dangerous they can be. I’ve held control for the past century, bringing more order to the carnage that existed before. Demons, warlocks, vampires, and other creatures of the darkness thrive on chaos, and it’s difficult to control.
I’m ruthless, but even I cannot stop every fucker who thinks they can climb the hierarchy of power. There's a lot of movement at the lower levels and that's healthy, weeding out the weak among us.
Every so often someone gets ideas above their station and thinks they can challenge me. It's an act of idiotic bravery and I've stamped every damn attempt out ruthlessly. I've executed everyone known to anyone who tried to usurp me, sparing few and protecting my reputation.
Adriana looks up at me and smiles, carefree and happy. I like her like this. She's allowed herself to forget about the things that have been tormenting her and live in the moment. I hope it's the beginning of her acceptance, but I've lived long enough to be skeptical of such foolish notions.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks, giggling.
“It's a surprise.”
She rolls her eyes and runs her hand over some flowers at a florist. She stops and I wait, noticing a warlock lurking on the street corner. I know him well and he's a devious fucker. He's ambitious too, and his appearance isn't coincidental.
“Do you like these?” Adriana asks.
“I think the question that matters is whether you like them,” I reply, quickly texting Byron the details of what is happening as I pretend not to notice the warlock.
The bastard’s weaving magic around us, and he thinks I haven’t noticed him. It’s a cunning spell, designed to trap its victims in a snare from which they can’t escape. It’s potent, and it works more often than not—but I am not an easy target.
I know it—and more importantly; the warlock knows it too.
This won’t be the only spell he’s casting, and he’s probably not alone. This is dangerous and Adriana’s carrying on oblivious, debating whether she prefers roses or peonies.
“Get both.”
“We don’t need both,” she replies.
I smile and push a little magic out, subtly counteracting the warlock’s spell. “Technically, no one needs cut flowers. If you like them, get them. You can thank me later.”
Adriana’s head snaps around, and it gives me the perfect opportunity to take a step back.
“What are you going to make me do?”
“Nothing, baby,” I say, calm despite the control shattering inside me.
The warlock thinks this is the time to strike, and he’s making a fundamental error. I’m already counteracting the first spell he’s attempting to trap us with, and I’ve caught the trace of another two. The man is in way over his head and I’m going to kill him.
Slowly.
Painfully.
Unless it’s necessary to kill him faster to keep Adriana safe.
“You always want something,” she says and huffs. “I don’t believe you.”
“Well, I always want you.” I laugh. “You’re fucking hot and I can’t resist the temptation. Especially when you show me that sexy little body of yours.”
Adriana blushes and squirms, ignoring the compliment as she looks to use this moment to her advantage.
“You don’t care what I want. As long as I’m a good little whore.”
My dick throbs and now I’m fighting a battle on three fronts. This is getting awkward and I’m going to have to deal with this. Decisively. Before my cock has enough and the overwhelming need to fuck Adriana obscures my better judgment.
“This isn’t the time for this discussion, baby.” My voice is a whisper to push her into the florist, and I pull out my bank card. “Get whatever flowers you want and we can discuss your sluttiness over drinks.”
“I don’t believe you,” Adriana huffs.
I smile and ignore the urge to shake her until she sees sense or put her over my knee and spank her. My girl is right to be cautious, but her disobedience is putting her at risk.
“On this occasion, you should. I’ll make you a deal. Buy whatever flowers please you and I won’t say a word about them. No consequences. Just no more than two bouquets, baby.”
“Really?”
She squeals, and I delight in finding a new way to manipulate her. Adriana thinks she’s gotten one over on me and it’s given her a thrill that will make her easier to control—and on another occasion, it’ll be a fucking pleasure to crush her confidence.
“Really, baby.” I give her my card. “Remember, no more than two bouquets.”
My girl leaps and bounds toward the shop, skipping like a schoolgirl. I smile as she looks back over her shoulder and waves at me—and when she talks to the florist, the facade on my face drops.
I’m done playing nice.
The warlock pulses magic in a surge that should sweep me off my feet. I push back against him, meeting his black magic with one of my own. One far more potent and far more sinister. It’s vicious. It’s twisted. It’s pure, unbridled evil and I refuse to hold it back.
Light fades as the storm clouds gather and darkness descends on the streets of London. The warlock knows I’m holding him at bay and he reaches for one of the other spells. It’s a different type of enchantment, borne of Hell and brim fire, of sin and deceit, and it’s just as potent as his first trick.
The asshole launches all his power into both simultaneously, and the surprise is enough to catch me ever so slightly off guard. I knew he was powerful, but I’d underestimated him and I pull up something from the depths of Hell itself to guard against the darkness trying to wrap itself around me.
A tendril of something twisted curls up from the ground, working to ensnare my waist. It’s trailing thick, dark magic around me and there’s a hint of venom in it. It’s potent, it’s difficult to hold back, and it’s determined to grab hold of me. Whatever this is, it’s made to bind me and I cannot let that happen. Not if I want to survive this, and not if I want Adriana to survive this.
Whoever’s behind this is attacking me, but that’s small mercy when my girl is so nearby. She’s too close for comfort and I sweat, working harder than I have had to in a long time as I reach for something to undo the witchcraft wreaking havoc.
I’m powerful enough to use arcane magic, and while its effects are unpleasant, they are neither fatal nor too detrimental to me. I summon it, letting it build within me as the magic bind tightens, biding my time until I’m sure I’ve got sufficient power to break free.
The burst I release devastates the enchantment holding me in its grasp and it shatters, freeing me from my chains. The pavement shakes as the world shudders and the warlock refuses to yield. He’s summoning power from somewhere, using magic that doesn’t belong to him—and it’s going to get him killed. He shouldn’t be able to withstand the depth of my power and I hurl fire and hate at him, twisting it so it claws at all his nightmares.
I’m weaponizing his fears against him and the poor man has more than a few. His soul shudders and I push harder, torturing him as I turn the tide and start winning this fight.
His magic falters and something shifts, as more arcane magic spills from me and the warlock’s power retreats. I push hard and fast, sweeping aside the protection spells woven into the fabric of reality, stripping back the layers of defense the bastard laid down.
“Please,” he mumbles. “I had no choice.”
I glance into the florist and see Adriana paying at the till. It won’t be long before she finishes chatting to the man behind the counter and gathers up the two large bunches of roses she’s decided she’s going to taunt me with. There’s no time to enjoy this now, only time to finish it.
“Who sent you?” I seethe.
The warlock meets my vicious stare and the color pales from his face.
“ He did, Lord.”
His head jerks back as something consumes him, subjecting him to the infernos of Hell. The warlock’s being burned from within, set alight as he’s tortured by magic as potent as mine. I recognize the evil behind whoever is at work as coming from the same depraved, desecrated halls as mine—and I hope the warlock’s death is agony.
The clouds may be lifting on London, but this warlock is a warning of what is coming. I’m facing a capable and cunning enemy, and they possess a power that may match mine. The danger is greater than I knew and I’d underestimated the forces at play when I spoke to Eva—and it may take considerable effort to combat it.
Time and effort I’d rather spend on someone else.
Adriana leaves the shop with a huge smile on her face. She’s going to have to learn to obey me at a much faster rate, if only to keep her safe. I might have to be firmer with her, be tougher and less forgiving, maybe even harsh. She won’t like it, but she’ll be alive, and that is better than the alternative.
“Roses,” I laugh. “Did you buy one for me?”
“No,” she snaps. “You bought them for me. To show me just how much you care. About me, and not what a good little slut I am.”
My girl has a wicked sense of humor and I can’t wait to explore it. She needs taming, but I enjoy a challenge, and it would be a shame for that defiant spark to extinguish.
“Of course,” I grin. “Drinks?”
She hands me both bunches of flowers and walks down the road, leaving me standing like a complete idiot. I watch her round, spectacular ass bounce down the street that was so dangerous moments ago, noting she’s heading for a spanking if she doesn’t change her behavior soon.
“Are you taking me for drinks or not?” she yells back.
I grin and nod.
A spanking it is.