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Embrace the Dark (The Blood Rose #1) - Page 14/27

And he wished like hell he could do it all over again.

Chapter Five

“Are you dating the Mastyr of Merhaine?” one of the reporters called out.

This question, which Abigail decided would be the last of the interview, startled her and apparently everyone else because the crowd fell silent. She thought of Augustus and his trollish, efficient, but very gossipy self. Had the news spread so fast about events last night?

Evening had descended but at least two stands of bright floodlights kept her blinking.

“Am I dating the Master of Merhaine?” she asked. “I don’t see what that has to do with my rights to open the bakery in Hollow Tree, a business that the good City Council approved with a vote of five-to-two? If you have complaints, you should seek out the council members, not me or my wonderful business partner, Elena Goshanne. And now, we have some invoices to review.”

She turned her back on the crowd of microphones and reporters and flashing cameras. Really, the news in Merhaine must be thin today if the press corps had turned out to hassle two women intent on selling cupcakes to realm-folk. Surely, all these reporters should be doing some heavy investigative work on the latest Invictus attack.

She watched for traffic and when she saw an opening, she started to cross. She glanced up the street and recognized a castle car in the distance, a big black car, a car meant to hold Guard-size bodies. Her heart added a few extra beats, but she kept walking. If Gerrod was in there, she didn’t want the press to know. That they had even asked about whether or not she was ‘dating’ him, couldn’t be a good thing. What a rumor-mill Merhaine was, feeding , nay feasting on every morsel of gossip however insignificant.

She went inside the shop. It was modeled on the one in Flagstaff, just bigger since there were a lot of sweet-tooths in the realm panting for Just Two Sweet! to open.

Two dozen round tables in stainless steel were scattered at the front of the shop, then wrapped around to the right side of the bakery. The far right wall housed a long row of red booths. At each table were stainless steel chairs and red leather upholstered seats, both types of seating comfortable yet not necessarily designed to keep anyone talking for hours.

The bakery was not a coffee shop but had a self-serve counter for baked goods and another bar for coffee and tea. All the baking would be done by a well-trained staff in the back behind stainless steel swinging doors, everything to code. Yep, there was even ‘code’ in Merhaine.

Of course larger orders would be handled separately.

She didn’t find Elena at first, but eventually tracked her down in the storeroom sitting on the floor. “What’s going on?”

Elena put her hand to her chest. “I…I don’t like having the reporters shouting like that.”

Abigail shrugged. “They have to shout because it’s their job to get the story. If they don’t, the managers of the Times, or the Merhaine Star, or the Hollow County Enquirer will fire them.”

“You must do this a lot then.”

Abigail laughed. “Never. When we announced the grand opening of Just Too Sweet, we had thirty of our friends show up, half a dozen people from off the street, and not a single reporter in sight. No, this is all about me being human. You know it is.”

“I suppose so.”

Elena tugged at her right ear, then slipped her finger up the outer groove all the way into the narrow, pointed cap. She was an elf, and had elegant ears which she had pierced a couple of times. Tiny stars dangled from silver loops.

Abigail could see she was distressed, so she sat down beside her on the floor of the storeroom and took her hand. Of all the realm-folk, the elven population was more equivalent in size to humans, contrary to earth-based myths. And fae and elves, while similar, had distinct, separate DNA.

“Please don’t worry so much, Elena. I promise I’ll stay in the back and just do the baking and decorating, or at least I’ll keep after the staff to get everything done.” Abigail had learned this much about herself, that she enjoyed management more than the actual baking. Though Megan loved to bake, Abigail was much happier checking invoices, tallying up the day’s sales, talking with the staff about scheduling problems, all basic management issues for a small business.

She’d even begun thinking of creating a franchise set-up, not because of the baked goods, but because the idea of expansion really appealed to her.

Elena smiled. “For someone who has a bakery, I think it odd that you don’t love all the baking and decorating, which I find to be very enjoyable.”

Abigail shrugged. “I like it well enough. But the truth is I opened Just Too Sweet! for my sister. She was very sickly for a long time, though she’s doing much better now, but she did like to bake. We set up a workstation for her that had a variety of stools and every electrical appliance available on the market so she wouldn’t have to exert herself.”

“What was wrong with her?”

“Bad lungs, asthma. But she’s gotten better. She even has two children now and a good husband, of course.”

“Yet you worry about her still?”

She glanced at Elena. “I suppose I do. She’s been my responsibility ever since I can remember. Even before our parents died, my mother would say, ‘You’re older. You need to take care of your little sister’.”

Elena laughed. “My mother used to tell me the same thing.”

“It’s universal. Can’t escape it.”

She heard the front door jingle.

“I like that sound,” Elena said.

“You’ll learn to love it once we open. It means customers. That’s probably another delivery.” She turned toward the door slightly and called out, “Back here.”

She stayed put and continued to hold Elena’s hand.

The swinging steel doors parted, but instead of delivery personnel, two large vampires walked through.

Each wore the traditional Guard uniforms of soft draped woven shirts, Gerrod in burgundy, the other vampire, who looked really familiar, in a deep mossy green. Topping it all were the traditional sleeveless, long, sexy-as-hell, coats, which she knew from the forest embrace was made of the softest buttery leather. Shoulder straps drew attention to broad shoulders and expansive chests. The pants were the sexiest black leather. The unknown vampire had his leathers all studded down the sides with large silver medallions.

Her gaze fell to the boots. She had unbuckled Gerrod’s for him last night, which was the only thing she could think as her gaze drifted back up to his absurdly handsome face.

She blinked and her heart flipped over a couple of times.

She hadn’t seen Gerrod since they’d shared a bed most of the day.

The other vampire spoke. “Well, hello ladies. What’s goin’ on in here? Havin’ a little sit down? A little party, maybe? Need some company?”

Abigail shifted her gaze to the other vampire then she got it: Mastyr Ethan of Bergisson Realm. His smile broadened to reveal a set of big handsome teeth. What a flirt. But she liked his smile so she smiled back.

“Just gabbin’.” She jumped to her feet. Elena followed, but Abigail could sense that her business partner was very nervous. And why wouldn’t she be? She doubted Elena had ever been in the company of two mastyrs before.

Gerrod introduced his companion, “Mastyr Ethan of Bergisson Realm.”

“Nice to meet you,” Abigail said. She thrust out her hand and Ethan took it, but what followed opened her eyes wide. She could feel his vibration, just as she had Gerrod’s. “Oh, my God.”

Ethan, on the other hand, drew a little closer. “What the hell is that? Are you—”

But he got no further.

Gerrod moved with lightning speed, breaking the connection by putting his massive body in front of Abigail, facing away from her. He then muscled her backwards into the storeroom.

“Hey,” she called out. She even shoved at his back but it was like trying to push a concrete wall out of the way.

She glanced at Elena who had decided the farthest corner of the supply closet was a really good idea.

She tilted to get a look at Mastyr Ethan to see what he was doing. But he held up his hands like he was under arrest and Gerrod was holding a gun on him.

“I didn’t mean anything by it, Gerrod. She offered her hand and we both know it’s a polite human thing to take a hand and shake it. I just didn’t expect for her to access my personal frequency. See, I’m stepping away.” He started backing up. “In fact, I’m going in the other room, and then all the way outside. Yep, I’m going outside.”

She put her hand on Gerrod’s back and suddenly what had seemed so simple, like yelling at him for being rude, just wasn’t. He was trembling from head to foot, like the plague had gotten hold of him in the past few seconds. She could feel heat flowing from him.

She looked back at Elena whose elf eyes were about the size of saucers. Abigail jerked her head in the direction of the bakery proper and Elena shot out of the storeroom like she’d been fired from a cannon.

When Abigail was alone with Gerrod and without removing her hand from him, she moved beside him then in front of him. He was sweating badly and his fangs were heavy on his lips.

“Oh, God,” she murmured.

Suddenly her heart pounded. She felt her blood swirling through her veins and now her blood was all lumpish again. Why was she so responsive to this absurd vampire? It almost felt as though she was making all this extra blood just for him. But that was ridiculous.

She wasn’t sure exactly what she needed to do right now, but at the very least she was pretty sure that what was going to happen next ought to be private. She closed the door behind her and stretched out her neck at just the right angle. “Are those just for show, or are you prepared to do something with those two sharp points?”

The sound he made was beyond description, like a gargled roar and shout combined. He grabbed her shoulders and with one hand caught the back of her head, holding her immobile.

He licked her neck in long slow swipes, gargling his growl a little more. He wasn’t real right now, he was a beast, and his frequency had begun to pound on her, punching at her body so that soon she was limp and that’s when he struck, when he felt her whole body surrender.



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