Of Blood and Smoke

Chapter 37

THIRTY-SEVEN

Della

Battling Manhattan traffic was a breeze when you didn’t have to take a train or buses. Instead of needing eyes in the back of my head—as well as the sides, I leisurely took in the sights and sounds as Josiah’s driver deftly maneuvered us through the morning rush.

Interrupting my thoughts, Josiah said, “Forward any emails you receive about last night’s events to me. Do not reply to them.”

He didn’t wait for an answer and instead took a call. While I relaxed and stared out the window, I listened to what I could of his conversation. It sounded like he was in the process of buying property, although he could’ve been discussing anything. I’d heard rumors his company was buying many more. Ipomoea was an umbrella, with multiple subsidiaries.

My work consisted solely of the parent company’s responsibilities and things associated with it, though occasionally I dealt with one of the branches. Sometimes it seemed like Josiah was trying to take over the world, like he was a massive octopus stretching out its legs and grabbing everything he could. He’d been quite busy over the last few months.

I twisted in my seat to look behind us and saw the SUV following us, containing the two new guards he’d assigned me. Work should be fun with double shadows , I thought, wryly. I cast a glance at Josiah and his eyes narrowed slightly. Somehow, he knew I was annoyed. I couldn’t help the slight tilt of my lips. When I should’ve been warned by that look, I thought it was cute. My hand found his free one, that’d been resting on his thigh, and I held it.

The receptionist gave me an odd look when we entered the lobby with the guards, though I knew she was used to security around the man by my side. I asked Josiah what their names were but all he did was ask if I wanted more. I did not. It was weird enough having two men following me around.

Here in New York that generally meant one was about to be mugged or raped. While I found the guards reassuring, it was also unsettling. It was hard to be too scared, knowing that my boyfriend was more of a threat than anything else out there in the wild.

Realizing I was staring at him I looked away. Then, I asked, “In my head, I call you my boyfriend. Is that okay?”

His arm whipped around my waist. “You’re my wife, I claimed you,” he growled at me.

My hand pressed against his suit coat. “Okay, I just wanted to make sure.” His wife?

He hadn’t referred to me as anything other than to offer my name in introduction. Not that I’d met many people he knew. I needed a title, a way to categorize my position so I knew what to expect. I needed that order in my life. A flush coursed through my body as I mulled over recent events. He’d just told me he loved me last night and here I was questioning his commitment.

There was no way he would consider me his wife, but I’d have to take his statement as he was committed. A sigh left me as I shook my head, and he lightly squeezed my side before sliding his sunglasses on.

Josiah switched to full-on business-mode before we exited the elevator, and he left. He disappeared down the hall and headed to his office. I caught a glimpse of Micha and went down to my desk, the somber guards remaining behind, stationed by the elevator.

“Oh, look what dragged in,” Christina muttered when I came into her line of sight.

“Good morning,” I said, ignoring her rude comment. The usual steaming hot cup of coffee sat on my desk, its rich, vanilla scent wafting from the container.

Switching on my computer, I tugged the beverage toward me and lifted the lid to stir it with the wooden stick resting by its side. An oily substance cast an unfamiliar rainbow shine across the surface of the liquid. It looked like an oil leak on pavement. What the hell?

Poking at it with the stirrer, the sheen clung to the stick and my stomach turned.

“Christina?” I walked around the partition separating us, cup in hand. “Who brought me coffee this morning?”

She glanced up at me and shrugged.

“Did you see anyone near my desk?” She went back to clicking her computer’s mouse and tossed her long, shiny blonde hair over her shoulder. She was a bitch, but the bitch had beautiful hair.

“Look at my coffee,” I said, moving closer to her.

She snarled, “Get that away from me you cunt.”

Shocked, I took one step back. “What’s your problem?”

Christina shoved her chair back. “You have zero qualifications for this job. Maybe you should go back to washing dishes and wearing hash browns.”

“Excuse me? I wouldn’t be here if I couldn’t do the job. All I want to know is if you saw anyone near my desk.”

“You prance around here like you’re better than anyone and sit at your desk drinking coffee all day, lookin’ all pretty and batting your eyes at the boys. You’re only here because you’re pretty . Go away and go fuck up some more files.”

I did not “fuck up” any files. If anything, the opposite was true.

“What is wrong with you? We have to work together so let’s not do this, okay?”

As I turned to leave, she stood up. “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me ? Before you showed up, I was Josiah’s favorite,” she spat, “and now he won’t even look at me. Not since you got here.”

I didn’t know what to say, stunned by her hatred and vitriol. Finally, I said, “You’ve seen him without his glasses?”

That pissed her off even further. She began stalking toward me slowly. “Unlike you, I listened to him. I obeyed the rules. Rules you can’t seem to follow.”

My arms were crossed against my chest, and I lowered them, holding a hand up toward her, the other still clutching my coffee. “I’m just gonna go back to my desk.”

A twinge of jealousy crept through me; I’d had no idea there’d been anything between the two of them. I knew it was unreasonable to be upset, so I shoved the feeling away.

“Hang on—what were you talking about with your coffee?” Christina asked, her lips twitching. “Did you drink some yet?”

Her mood had instantly changed to a mild excitement, and it caught me off guard. I lifted the lid and held the cup out. She took another step closer and moved to grab it, squealing.

Next thing I knew, I was wearing the coffee. Hot liquid splattered my blouse and started to run down my pants, the heat of the beverage stinging my belly along the way.

“Why?” I looked up at her, my mouth gaping.

“Why are you just standing there? Go away. Nobody wants you here,” she yelled at me.

“What did you do to my coffee, Christina? What did you put in it?” I stood my ground, letting the beverage set into my clothing.

Christina threw out her arms, pushing me back. I stumbled on my heels but remained upright. “Really?” I looked at her, dumbfounded.

“Really, bitch.” She swung around, grabbing her bottle of tomato juice and began marching toward my desk. I ran after her, grasping her arm as she unscrewed the lid. It seemed to happen in slow motion, the arch of slimy juice hitting my laptop. There was nothing I could do. She was acting completely insane, and I didn’t know if I should laugh, cry, or scream.

Christina reached over and dug her nails into my fingers before she gripped my other arm and spun me around. “Let go of me,” I growled, trying to regain my balance as I twirled on my heels.

She did, but then went for my hair instead. I felt my hair ripping out at the roots as she dug into my scalp and then she circled the twist I’d arranged my hair into this morning. My hands shot up trying to break the contact.

“He should’ve let you die,” she growled. “You fucking parasite.”

The whole situation felt unreal to me, it was like I was back in middle school and there was a fight in the cafeteria. Her words angered me; I was no parasite—I worked my ass off, always had.

Christina had clearly had a problem with me since shortly after we met, but I had no idea it ran this deep or that she was this psychotic. I’d never pictured her trying to rip my hair out from the roots like she was right now.

She gripped me tighter, and the pain from her shaking my head was blinding. My fingers scratched her as I desperately tried to break free.

Where was everyone? No one had come to see what the commotion was about, and I then realized we’d been relatively quiet, other than a few screeches from Christina.

I’d started to yell for help just when she drove her knee into my stomach. My breath shot out of my lungs as I doubled over and suddenly my hair was free. The roots of my hair screamed with relief and my eyes began to water. But then, she swung her arm and grabbed my now-loosened hairdo, and the side of head slammed against the desk.

My vision went black. I literally saw stars just as I heard someone roar her name. Next thing I knew, there was a loud, dull thud and my eyes cleared. Christina rolled onto the floor, landing several feet away from me.

Josiah bent his knees and carefully helped me stand up. “What happened?” He snapped angrily, his head turning to Christina’s motionless form across the room. Micha moved into view and went over to her, rolling her over so she was flat on her back.

Hanging onto Josiah’s forearms, I told him, “Something was strange with my coffee, and I went to ask her if she saw anyone near my desk?—”

“Oleander,” Micha cut in. “Your skin may get irritated. Did you get any in your mouth?”

I licked my lips, searching for traces of coffee. “I don’t think so. What’s oleander?”

“A poison that can stop your heart.”

Shock washed through me. She’d wanted me dead. If I’d drank the coffee, I would’ve been. None reached my face, as far as I could tell. It looked like the majority hit my pants; and like I’d never be able to wear this shirt again. My world felt like it was careening out of control.

“Some got on my stomach,” I said. “I need to get this off.” I plucked at my shirt, careful not to touch the brown-stained satin.

Josiah snared my hand, his rings bumping against my knuckles. “Micha, please relocate that.”

He didn’t indicate what “that” was, but I knew it was my coworker.

My two new security guards strode into view, having been stationed outside the elevator down the hall. “Stay with us,” Josiah ordered them.

We’d assumed I was safe within the confines of Micha and Josiah’s inner offices. Christina worked almost exclusively for Josiah, other than handling occasional tasks for Micha. Micha dealt mostly with finances, and oversaw the other managers located in different departments of the company.

Not many people ever came in here, other than the four of us. It’d been obvious to me Christina had an issue working with me, but I’d had no idea her hatred ran so deep she’d try to kill me.

I’d been assuming the danger would come from another creature similar to Josiah and Micha if at all, not the beautiful but rude blonde I worked beside every day. It was apparent the guards had thought the same way.

“Additional guards are now by the entrances and elevators,” Micha told the man by my side as he slipped his phone inside his jacket pocket.

“Very good,” Josiah replied.

Anger was set in the firm line of his lips, and I shivered, thinking of what lay ahead for Christina. “What are you going to do to her?” I asked.

“She tried to kill you. What do you think will happen?” he snapped.

Between Brett and Christina, the bodies were piling up. What would happen when the people he called the Ancients started coming for him? I hadn’t expected danger from the people I saw every day, the people familiar to me or that I trusted on some level. What if something else happened?

It’d been shadowy figures in dim alleyways, a person lying in wait around a corner. Someone hiding in my closet until I got home, lurching through the door and grabbing me. That’s what I’d pictured. Not Christina, and not Brett.

“I didn’t think Christina disliked me that much,” I said to Josiah, as he led me into his office. We crossed through his torture chamber and entered his private apartment.

“I always thought danger would be from someone I didn’t recognize, like a mugger.” I glanced up at Josiah as we went into the bathroom. “Where do you get oleander from?”

He helped me out of my blouse and wet a washcloth, handing it to me after rummaging through the cabinet under the sink. “Multiple places,” he replied, after a moment. “She’ll be questioned, and I will find out.”

Wiping the washcloth over my skin, I said, “She told me she was your favorite.” I met his eyes.

He sneered. “Never.”

“What did she mean by that?”

“I used her a couple of times.” He grabbed the cloth from me and unbuttoned my pants before smoothing the rag over my lower abdomen. His gaze flicked up to mine. “ Used her,” he emphasized.

My stomach clutched. “What does that mean?” The way he was circling the soft cotton along my skin caused a low ache to knot in my core.

“It means I forced her immobile and unconscious and drank from her wrist.” He pulled himself up straight. “I detest bagged blood and was hungry. She was willing. You know what I am, Della.”

Unable to move or be aware didn’t strike me as “willing,” but I let that go. He was a demon and vampire, after all. I couldn’t forget how I met him—he’d paralyzed me, too.

“Do you still sneak into women’s bedrooms at night?” Wincing, I waited for the answer.

His arm shot out so fast I was suddenly squished between the counter and his torso, his hand snugly around my neck. His thumb brushed the pressure point at the base and I glanced up at him, my mouth sagging. “It's only you, Little One,” he growled at me. “It will only ever be you . Do you dare doubt me?”

If I could’ve shook my head, I would’ve. Instead, I gasped, “No.”

“Mm. Your blood is thrumming so happily for me, like song in your veins only I can hear.” He moved his hand slightly and leaned in, brushing my neck with his lips. “Your unnecessary jealousy tastes like love.” He inhaled deeply, and my skin tingled, goosebumps trailing from my scalp all the way down to my toes.

“Do you have something to confess to me?” he purred. I felt him stretch his mouth, and then the light scratch of his teeth against my flesh.

Cleaning myself up forgotten, the towel dropped to the floor and my hands clasped his shoulders as he softly bit into me. The initial sting zinged through me like a shot of electricity before the light brush of his tongue lulled me, erasing the pain. Gently, he stroked my neck with the organ, little flicks of the muscle gathering whatever drops of blood he coerced from my veins. I whimpered, and he trailed his nails down my back, forcing me to arch into him.

Josiah lifted me onto the counter, moving my legs so I caged him in. He caught my lips with his own while a hand delved down the front of my pants and relieved the ache at my core. I melted against him, shattering around his fingers while he captured my cries with his mouth.

“Josiah,” I whispered, when the trembles stopped shuddering my body. My head rested in the crook of his neck, and I breathed in his smoky scent. “Can you keep me safe?” I wasn’t sure if I meant from unseen enemies, or him.

Massaging the sore spot on my head, he said, “I can’t promise you safety and I don’t think you really want it, but I can promise you my knife and my heart.”

He pulled out a tiny, glistening blade and nicked my neck lightly, before leaning in.