Page 35
Even with the increased security, she might have made it undisturbed if anyone other than the Grand Vampire herself had been the one to stop her. She was so unexpected that Rowan forgot to cast her eyes away. Rosario set her with a stony glare.
“Que haces escondiéndote en las sombras?” Rosario the Cruel demanded in her native tongue.
Rowan wasn’t as practiced at using it as Rosario liked, but it usually garnered more favorable results if she at least attempted it.
“Estoy buscando su hija.” Rowan cast her eyes to the floor, hoping it wasn’t too late to show some reverence.
Rosario’s voice was stone. “Do you think I should let you see her when you’re the reason she ended up bleeding all over my carpet? And you sent ese zorrito who knows absolutely no Spanish or the slightest bit of manners to bring her to me?”
Rowan bowed her head. “Perdón Doña Rosario.”
“Perdon? I thought I told you two to stop getting involved in matters outside of your business because you would end updead. But no. Not only once, but twice in two days, you two tontas flew into the fray of danger without a single thought. Did neither of you ever grow up with any sense knocked into you? Shall I knock some sense into you now, Rowan Dahl?” Each moment that passed, Rosario’s voice got lower and more furious.
Rowan kept her head bowed as the woman unleashed her anger upon her, nodding and agreeing when prompted to. Seriously, even her own mother never berated Rowan as much as Rosario did.
“And one more thing. Let me see the wound.”
Rowan winced, but raised her shirt. Despite the effects of Harris Knox’s tongue, it still needed proper medical attention.
She could feel the frustration coming off the Grand Vampire in waves.
“Your mother is going to hear about this,” Were Rosario’s last words before she phased away.
Rowan groaned but continued her way up the winding sidewalks until she came upon Louisa’s apartment door. She walked right past the cozy living room, spotless kitchen and bathroom to the massive bedroom with a fourposter bed lined by thick curtains pulled shut around it.
Rowan slid them open. Louisa and Kin were both sound asleep. Caught in what seemed to be a battle over the blankets, they sprawled in two different directions. Her presence didn’t wake them up, underlining their exhaustion. Conjuring a second blanket, she separated them. There wasn’t a single flutter of eyelashes or groan as she worked.
Warmth and relief filled her to see them healed and comfortable. Satisfied, she backed out before her irate mother could call her and she stole out into the night as quiet as a burglar.
XOXOXOXO
Alessandro lay in his bed, staring at the screen on his phone, inexplicably irritated.
Not one call. Not one text. It was as if the elven princess had forgotten he even existed. He, the mother fucking Dragon King.
He rolled his eyes at his own behavior before flinging the device across the room into a pile of pillows in the corner, disgusted.
He tried to fall asleep but his mind kept flying back to the vision of the woman laying in a pile of her own blood, the wolves idiotic enough to believe her if she said she was fine. Had it been any other time, he would have sent one of his dragons to check on the situation, but he didn’t want them knowing he was interested in her beyond repaying the debt.
He also didn’t want her to know that he was more interested in her than she was in him.
He supposed he could visit the astral plane. She would never know he even stopped by and his body would remain in Draconis. His dragons need not know he wasn’t all there.
Mind made up after another half hour of fighting his sheets, he began his meditative journey. Magic wrapped him up in a wash of coolness, seeping through his scales as he gently slid out of his physical form. He searched for a hint of the woman, recalling the way magic zoomed to her beck and call at the slightest provocation. The golden glow that was a sign of a Blessed called his attention. He found her in a blaze of yellows and purples. Yellow usually denoted elven lineage, the purple her succubus,though he noted both colors were brighter than was usual. He supposed it could have something to do with her unnatural aptitude with magic.
She was laying in a bed he didn’t recognize. It was small and barely big enough to contain her. Around the room, hanging posters caught his attention. Some were of bands he recognized, cartoonish ones he didn’t. But his interest zoomed in on the one of himself.
He didn’t recall posing for the picture, but he’d been coming out of the ocean on a rare day at Black Cove’s beach with his dragons, water running in rivulets off his exposed muscles. He’d been in the middle of braiding his mass of curls into a manageable form, half grinning at what he remembered was something Terra had said just out of shot.
She was a fan? And hadn’t even tried calling him once? Perhaps age had dulled the infatuation.
He moved on and took in the collection of second place trophies put on grand display shelves with her name carved into them. He couldn’t help but observe that not a layer of dust existed on a single award.
“Alessandro?” Her whisper came from the bed. She wasn’t asleep. He moved closer to her.
He should have been nothing but a passing shadow to her eyes, but he should have known magic wouldn’t have worked as intended with her.
He noted her sharp intake of breath as she peeked around the room, as well as the scrapes and bruises all over her face. He also caught sight of the marks he had left along her neck and her arms where he had held her. How rough had he been?
Table of Contents
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