Chapter 10
10
Ramone
Alexander was pissing me off. Ilya was pissing me off. Everyone was pissing me off. How hard could it be to answer the phone?
Ilya pushed my office door open and made himself at home in his usual seat. “Can I help you?” he asked with a straight face, beating me to my standard question.
Fucker.
My hand was in my lap, and I flicked my fingers, picturing his cock. Slowly he raised his eyes to my face, red glowing around his pupils. He couldn’t do anything to me, or rather, he wouldn’t. The fact that he wanted to emanated from him in waves. I chuckled and closed my hand, releasing him. We were much too reliant on each other for either of us to cause any permanent damage to the other. That’s what happened when you formed a mega corporation,
“Other than my dick, what do you want?” He readjusted himself before resting an ankle on his knee.
I couldn’t remember what I’d wanted. I’d had the urge to call him when I left Samantha’s, after leaving her a gift. Certainly, I wasn’t going to risk another relationship by letting him know she existed. He’d find out, eventually. If I could get my shit together, she’d safely be on my arm as soon as possible. I was playing with fire, and I knew it, but couldn’t seem to stop myself. There had to be a way to possess her without killing her, if I could just figure it out.
“When are we having this meeting?” I rubbed my forehead and picked up my phone. Alexander had called me back.
Ilya gave me a pointed look. “Shouldn’t you be deciding that?”
Yes, I should. I nodded. “Next week good for you?”
“This is hitting you harder than anyone else,” he remarked.
Under his gaze, I felt like a bug under a microscope. My heart began thudding in my chest while I worked to control my impulse to throw my laptop at his mouth. He had a way of angering me more than anyone else because he knew me better than anyone else did. “I drank more of that wine than the rest of you.”
“Mm. To answer your question, next week is fine. Make sure everyone comes. We don’t want to deal with the fallout otherwise.” Ilya stood up. “That means Alastair, Alexander, Stefan, Matthew.”
Clenching and unclenching my hands relieved some of the nervous energy that had been building in my chest. I had a firm indent against my fingers from my rings. I needed to feed; I needed the rush that would bring calm. “Are there others we should involve? Why Matthew?”
“Look, you’re in charge here. You figure this shit out. Ask him if he has anybody to bring. I don’t like this any more than you do.” The hand he’d rested against the door dropped when it popped open.
“Hey.” Alexander nodded to Ilya and went straight for the whiskey. Ilya watched him out of the corner of his eye for a moment, slid his gaze back to me, and then walked out.
My office had turned into a revolving door. “Where were you?”
Alexander leaned against one of the heavy upholstered chairs. “I was busy. You?”
Mimicking the demon who’d just left, I smoothed down my tie. “Answer your phone when I call—always.”
My empire was sliding out from underneath me. I could feel it from the lack of respect to the skittering of my heart inside my chest. Things were changing, and not for the better. None of this mattered before. Previously, everything had run like a well-oiled machine. No one harassed me, no one questioned me, everyone knew what they were supposed to do. The two men running the Fourth Realm—Victor and Lucian kept their distance, and I kept mine; I'd been free to do whatever I wanted without any interference, and it was of benefit to all.
“Have you heard anything about Lucian or Victor?” I’d turned so quickly barking the question, that Alexander jumped.
“No.” He wiped his wrist with a tissue and sipped his drink. “I haven’t been there for a few days.”
Victor was Ilya’s father and Lucian, Kiara’s. Both were responsible for my banishment from the Fourth, and other, Realms. “Is no one speaking in the Second?”
Surely, he’d heard something. Human or not, beings were prone to gossip with each other.
“I’m in and out. I have other stuff going on; I’m not hanging out there.”
Suddenly, I remembered that my friend had a little human girl he’d been pursuing. “How is everything going with the woman?”
Alexander flicked a surprised glance at me. “It's going.”
“Do you need anything?” Returning to my desk, I powered my laptop back on and waited, staring at the empty corner of my desk where a vase normally stood. Roses should be on my desk. Hunger wrapped itself around my spine, clawing its way to the back of my throat while my blood heated. My hand drifted to my waistband, pushing it down slightly. It wasn’t as if Alexander hadn’t seen my cock before but right now wasn’t the time for him to see my hard-on.
“No, no, I don’t think so.” He paused. “Do you?”
Yes. Have you ever been absolutely terrified of yourself, Alexander?
I shook my head, knowing I couldn’t voice my thoughts. Alexander and I were close, and I trusted him, but this was too personal. “We’ll all meet next week and discuss moving forward.”
He took his leave, and I had my space to myself again, the spectre of Samantha dominating the images in my mind. Did she think of me? I opened my email account, remembering the woman had no idea I existed outside of my visit to her shop. She’d stood there, staring as if I’d disappear. Arrested by the very sight of her, I hadn’t even attempted to read her, and then another woman interfered, putting an end to our interlude.
Scrolling through my emails, I noted Matthew’s acquiescence with my request. The archangel was a loose cannon. I wanted nothing to do with him and foresaw multiple issues on the horizon. We’d stayed out of each other’s way for centuries, operating in different circles and under separate conditions. There were no offenses between us, however he could become my biggest rival. We came from different families and were different species, in a way, but we were equal in all the ways that mattered.
I sent an email to Alastair directing him to tell me everything he knew about the archangel while my thoughts wandered in a very unprofessional direction. Had Samantha worn the necklace I gave her yet? I’d told her to wear the piece, and only the piece. I’d charmed the strand, spelled it so I would always know where she was. Would she obey me? Picturing her laid out on her bed, clad only in jewelry, her hair spread across the pillow, I sucked in a breath. She must know what she did to me. I would tear the stars from the very sky if only she’d asked. I stood up after shutting down the computer, unable to focus, and exited my office.
“Bring me roses. Red roses. I don’t care if you have to slice your wrists open, they must be the color of blood.” I let out a feral hiss at Violet, my assistant, who shrank back while I strode past her. My reflection in the back of the elevator showed a slightly rumpled image of myself and I straightened my tie again. In a moment of clarity I realized Violet would, in fact, slice her wrists open if that was the only way to fulfill my order. It would be inconvenient if she expired. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that? When I exited, my driver was waiting for me as expected down by the curb, and I dismissed my brief concern.
Adam opened the door for me upon my arrival at home. I’d arranged for dinner to be served in the living room and was looking forward to unleashing some energy and replenishing. The sight of Branko was wholly unwelcome.
“Why are you here?” I loosened my tie and pulled it over my head, tossing my coat to Adam at the same time. He gasped in surprise when it hit him in the face. My butler should’ve been prepared. I waved him off before heading into my library.
Branko sighed, trailing after me. “I hear you’re holding a meeting?”
Slowly, I said, “Yessss...”
He made himself comfortable on the couch. “I have to say, that’s smart.” I grunted. “Margaret and I are here now in the Third Realm, for good.”
I glanced at him quickly before perusing my shelves of books. Margaret had been a good friend of Kiara’s. “Why?” Nobody ever really wanted to leave the Fourth Realm.
“It's a mess there now, with Lucian dead?—”
“What?” I interrupted my friend.
Branko pressed his lips together. “I think it was too much for him. He felt responsible for Kiara and followed her.” He waited a moment to gauge my reaction. I didn’t give him any. “Victor’s sequestered in his home, and Ilya’s never there anymore. Buildings are falling into ruin, water is rising. Animals are roaming in areas they weren’t previously; it's just a mess. There’s insect swarms now too.”
“I’ve never seen it like that. I’ve seen war and times of conflict. But not that.” I shoved a book I’d pulled out back in its slot.
He cleared his throat. “No one has any idea what’s going on and no one can reach Victor. Not that he’d necessarily know. The only thing I can think of is because of Kiara. The decay isn’t widespread, yet. But its heading in that direction.”
I glared at him. “You have no way of knowing that.”
He nodded. “You are correct, of course. It’s the only change Maragret and I can think of.”
“What the fuck does she know? Or you? Neither of you are one of us.” I didn’t have the best past experiences with the man, between him playing multiple sides and then being my jailer—of sorts. For a while, his duty was to report my whereabouts to Lucian and Victor but over the past year, that responsibility faded.
“No, we’re not. I do think we’ve spent enough time around your kind to give consideration to the idea. We may be young, and mortal, but we do notice things.” Branko’s eyes sought the ceiling before he looked at me again.
My search for books of my own kind ceased. I had many, but I couldn’t find what I was looking for. I crossed the room, sinking into a seat. As much as I hated to admit it, he had a point, everything had been fine up until Kiara and her departure. There was also the matter of the tainted wine, I recalled, my gaze sliding to one of the offending bottles. It sat on a gilded tray, two sparkling crystal glasses accompanying it.
Branko noticed my perusal. “I heard about the curse. I can’t say I’m surprised.”
I scowled at him. “Are you enjoying my slow demise?”
“Yeah right, like that’d ever happen. The day you die is the day I grow wings. It makes more sense now, your mood swings.”
“You’re interrupting my dinner.”
He stood up, turning to face me. “Just be careful, okay?”
There was no time to be careful in the way he meant; I had things to do.