Of Blood and Smoke

Chapter 12

TWELVE

Josiah

While we’d taken care of the problem with Mister Boccelli, there was still the matter of the employee who’d given him access. Micha had rounded the man up, a younger man in his early twenties, and delivered him to our special interrogation room. He was currently artfully suspended from a retractable meat hook installed in the ceiling and awaiting his verdict.

I’d left the office to remove myself from the pull of the new hire’s sweetly scented blood. It was all I could do not to pull her into my arms. I’d envisioned doing exactly that and neglecting my duties.

My canines had begun stretching and saliva pooling on my tongue before I could force myself from the room.

“Sir?” Christina asked me when I stopped in front of her desk.

Trying to gather myself before speaking, I pressed my lips together. “Hold my calls for the rest of the day, please.”

She knew better than to meet my gaze, but I saw her eyebrows rise even with her head tilted downward. Christina knew I could’ve called her or sent an email, but I didn’t owe her an explanation. I turned on my heel and returned to my office, passing Della on my way.

Della kept her head down and angled her shoulders away from me as she scooted past. I couldn’t help but take in her luscious figure. She was short, slim, and shapely and her spicy vanilla scent clung to the air. I breathed it in deeply, torturing myself. What I wouldn’t have done for a bite then and there.

I stopped, knowing I shouldn’t, to watch her make her way to my receptionist. Sensing me, she turned to look back and we almost met each other’s gaze. The sharp inhalation of her gasp sounded in the hallway as her mouth dropped open and her step faltered. Her skin paled right before she flushed, her lips bobbing like a fish gasping for water.

She’d just broken the cardinal rule. There was no wiggle room, no “almost.” She’d purposely tried to look at me, thinking I wouldn’t notice.

Little did she know how severely she should’ve been punished for the breach of protocol, her defiance.

Her eyes shuttered and she quickened her step, nearly running into the desk. Concentrating, I focused my senses to eavesdrop and heard her pleading with Christina, “What do I do? What do I do? I didn’t mean it.”

Her desperation pulled on something inside me, softening me. She was terrified she would lose the job she’d just received. Against my better judgment, I instantly forgave her.

I should, seeing as I’d instigated the situation.

Micha was waiting for me back in my office. I reentered the room, and Micha unlocked the door to the soundproof space where our captive was strung up. Once the door shut behind us, I shrugged off my coat and hung it in a closet, my friend doing the same before he opened a drawer and passed me a pair of disposable gloves.

Our victim was either unconscious or he’d passed out. His name was Richard Dick, an unfortunate moniker. His parents must’ve hated him on sight. As cruel as his parents were, we were crueler. It occurred to me that he’d never stood a chance in life, not with a name such as his own. Stepping up to him, I slapped him across the face.

He groaned and twisted lightly as he regained his faculties. The scent of his fear permeated the air, a disgusting mixture of sharp bile, sour sweat, and ripe excrement.

“Richard,” I stated loudly, snapping his attention to me. “Do you know why you are in this predicament? What you have done?”

A sliver of ill-guided hope entered his gaze as he presumably thought up a way to pass the blame. “It wasn’t me! Please don’t do this, I have a family.”

It was all so predictable, every time. They thought we were morons.

“Huh,” I said, scratching my chin. “How easy it is to accidentally sell our exclusive products, I’m sure that was unintentional when you sought a specific buyer.”

Micha snickered at my sarcasm and Richard threw him a begging glance. As if his salvation lay in the hands of my closest companion.

“Please,” Richard implored. “I’ve heard the rumors about you two, how you eat people and how if anyone looks you in the eye they turn to stone. They call you the Medusa twins.”

“Have you turned to stone Richard? You keep looking me in the eye and yet here you are, twirling like a pinata.”

Gripping his shoulder, I spun him around. His vomit splashed the floor, marring my leather boots and irritating me. “No manners,” I snarled at the man.

Micha stepped closer to me, gently placing a hand on my forearm. “Allow me.”

Between Richard’s foulness and his breach of trust, my mood had rapidly declined.

Here at Ipomoea, we were very generous employers. We treated our workers like royalty. It was my own, personal High Court. If you secured a job here, you were set up for life. Free full coverage health insurance, a pension plan, we matched contributions to retirement funds.

Four weeks of paid vacation was included the moment one signed on and more hours were earned every year, capping at eight weeks accrued. That didn’t even include sick pay or personal days.

And the salaries we paid our people were astronomical compared to similar businesses.

All we asked was that our rules be obeyed and obeyed without question. Those edicts included unfailing loyalty and with what we provided in return, it was truly not too much to ask. Faithfulness and obedience were rewarded with promotions and bonuses, extra privileges.

On the other hand, with our habit of hiring people with questionable pasts, it was bound to happen that some would go astray.

It happened in the Second Realm’s High Court as well, that people became overconfident and strayed, seeking personal gain. I knew this all too well, since it had been my job to keep order and dole out punishments.

Oftentimes, the ones with the darkest pasts had the most to lose. That kept them indebted to us, with the threat of hidden pieces of history being brought to light. At the moment, I couldn’t remember what Richard’s past indiscretions were and why we hired him.

My friend crossed the room and popped open another drawer containing various sharp objects. Some had been purchased here, and others brought from home. The knives with the greatest craftsmanship showed off the skill of the artisans in the Second Realm.

The blade he’d selected sparkled in the light as he walked over to the captive, flipping the piece of metal in the air and catching it by the tip of the blade. Purposely, he let it nick his finger. Predictably, Richard began crying.

“Have you visited your precious human ward lately?” I asked conversationally.

Micha glanced at me quickly while patting the man. “I have. I had a very enjoyable visit last night. She’s exquisite.”

“Have you tasted her yet?”

He shook his head sadly. “I have not.” Tilting the man’s chin up, he looked him in the eye. “Your eyes,” Richard cried out, babbling.

The man must’ve just witnessed Micha’s irises changing.

It was an undeniable indicator to humans that we were other, and the novelty made for a powerful tool in our arsenal. Intense emotions had the effect of liquefying our eyes around the pupils and my companion’s had the appearance of flowing mercury when he was excited enough. It really was quite beautiful, his silvery gaze.

“Mm,” I replied. “Are you spending too much time with her?”

He dragged the knife down the side of the man’s face and followed up by sliding his tongue along the broken skin before he spoke. “You know my answer.”

Micha was playing a dangerous game, getting attached to a human. “Step lightly, my friend," I warned him.

His back stiffened in response to my words before he bit deep into Richard’s neck and plunged the blade into the man's abdomen. Micha’s eyes rolled back in his head as his throat bobbed.

Watching him drink, I remembered he’d considered bringing on the woman he was visiting as his assistant. I’d given the go ahead to bring on Della DuBois as Christine’s. Micha was fully aware Miss DuBois was the one who witnessed a recent incident, and I had to wonder about the possible connection.

Schooling my features, I asked, “This interest of yours wouldn’t happen to be Miss Dubois, would it?”

He didn’t answer me, too lost in the throes of bloodlust.