A Midsummer Night's Scream (The Dulcie O'Neil Series Book 7) (17 page)

“My great sense of chivalry?” he repeated before laughing and shaking his head as if to say he had none. “And what great sense of chivalry would that be?”

“I don’t know,” I grumbled as I wondered what in the hell I’d been thinking. Chivalry? “That fall I took must have really messed up my head.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because any man who body checks a woman half his size isn’t exactly chivalrous.”

“And any woman who thinks she can outrun her Loki captor deserves to be body slammed,” he retorted with no trace of an apology. “If you want to call a spade a spade.”

“I’m starting to rethink that nap,” I mumbled. Rolling over, I faced the window, trying to, at least mentally, emancipate myself from my companion.

TEN

I wasn’t sure how long we were on the road because, amazingly enough, I did manage to fall asleep. Maybe because I was
that
exhausted.

Actually, there was much more to it than just my exhaustion, and the more to it had everything to do with Jax. I wasn’t sure why, but something about him began to put me more at ease. Even though he was supposed to be a hardened criminal, he didn’t now and never really had come off that way. At least, not to me. It was more fitting to say he seemed like nothing more threatening than an oversexed, high school jock. Well, an oversexed, high school jock with one mean tackle.

Moreover, I
did
believe him when he said his mission was to keep me safe. That wasn’t to say his boss didn’t plan to ransom me (which I was still convinced was the truth); but I also trusted that Jax thought otherwise.

Bless his misinformed heart.

“We’ve crossed over,” Jax said in an even tone as I started to wake up. I stifled a sleep-heavy yawn as I opened my eyes, only to discover we were no longer being pummeled by the rain. Night still ruled the sky, but the enormous pine trees that had practically consumed us previously were nowhere to be seen. As far as I could tell, there weren’t any trees at all.

“We traveled through the portal?” I asked, sitting up straighter. My heart started to palpitate when I glanced outside my window and tried to get a read on the terrain. I hoped to get a better idea of where we were, but all I learned was that we were on a very narrow road and we were still ascending.

“Yes, we just passed through the portal,” Jax answered without bothering to look at me. Instead, he watched the road ahead of us, which was a good thing, given how precarious the drive had become. “We should arrive at our destination shortly.”

“And let me guess, you’ve had a miraculous change of heart and now plan on telling me anything and everything about where we are?” I asked with renewed optimism.

“We’re in the mountains,” came his reply, and his self-impressed smile bordered on downright cocky.

“Thanks for nothing,” I grumbled. Staring out my window again, I noticed myriad lights far off in the distance. They glittered from a valley ensconced between the mountains and appeared to be dishearteningly far below us. Regardless, though, lights meant there was a town nearby. And a town meant there would be people. I only hoped there would be people who would or could help me. Well, that is, if I managed to escape my current predicament …

Jax stopped the car. I was about to inquire when I found we were parked in front of an enormous iron gate. He rolled the window down and studied the black box which would contact whoever happened to be inside the house. A few seconds later, Jax entered a passcode on the number pad before the gate began slowly swinging open.

“Guess we’re here?” I asked, not able to hide the trepidation from my voice. I couldn’t deny that I was nervous, because I had no idea what lay beyond those gates, which were now completely open. A well-lit driveway appeared, flanked by large trees that I assumed were some type of willow. Their long, hairlike leaves and drooping branches served as a canopy over the driveway and looked like they belonged on an old, Southern plantation.

“Don’t worry; you’ll be safe,” Jax promised me again with a reassuring smile.

“
Safe
can be a very arbitrary word.”

“Your physical wellbeing won’t be compromised,” he corrected himself. “How’s that?”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” I answered. I took another deep breath before we started the incline of yet another steep precipice. At the top of the hill was what I imagined had to be a breathtaking view in the daytime. But for now, the only thing I could see were the voluminous stars, twinkling in the sky.

“Come,” Jax said, offering his arm.

I took one glance at it and then at him before shaking my head. “I can walk by myself. It’s not like I’m not a revered guest here, so let’s not pretend otherwise.”

“Have it your way, but the cobblestones are uneven, and you
did
just injure your knee.”

“Which, as you may recall, is now healed and, thus, no longer an issue.”

“Just trying to help,” he finished with a shrug before starting toward the house.

Well, “house” wasn’t exactly the right noun to describe the monstrosity before us. It looked like the centerfold from one of those fancy home magazines. At three stories high, it had ornately intricate, iron balconies featured outside each arched window. On either side of the floor-to-ceiling windows were black shutters, a perfect contrast to the brilliant white of the mansion. The front of the house had no less than eighteen Corinthian columns, six on each level. The gingerbread cutouts that adorned the roofline imbued the building with Victorian splendor, although it was more fitting to say it looked like it belonged in the deep South. It reminded me of something I’d seen on
Gone with the Wind
.

Large oak trees hugged both sides of the walkway that led to the house, Spanish moss hanging decoratively from their great boughs. Below them were alternating bushes of red and white roses, all manicured perfectly, and probably the source of the sweet scented air.

Despite it being nighttime, I could see the landscaping before me almost as easily as if it were daytime. That was because of the endless streetlamps illuminating the walkway, along with the lights on the footpath, which were even more plentiful. The streetlamps, at approximately six feet tall, appeared to be constructed of black iron, and their glass lampshades featured etched angels blowing trumpets.

The angel motif was repeated in the fountain, which occupied the middle of a huge courtyard. This angel was very oversized, probably larger than sixteen feet. Her wings were fully extended behind her as if in midflight. In her hands, she held a bucket of water, which bubbled up and over the edge before running down her billowing robes and splashing into the pool at her feet.

“Someone must have a thing for angels,” I commented, more to myself than to Jax.

“Yes, ironic, isn’t it?” Jax agreed as he shook his head and raised his eyebrows, apparently seeing the irony.

“Funny, is it not, how a life spent in darkness results in the craving of all forms of light?”

The man’s voice came from behind me, and in response, I instantly wheeled around, my body already poised in fight or flight mode. I stood with my feet shoulder-width apart, the best stance to ensure a firm equilibrium. My heart climbed up into my throat and every nerve in my body was alive and fully at attention as I searched for the stranger. But he was nowhere to be seen.

Seconds later, I spied the form of a tall man when he stepped out from the darkness of the trees and revealed himself in the light.

My breath caught. He was every bit as suave and handsome as I remembered him.

“Bram!” I said, my voice revealing my surprise. “You son of a bitch!” I roared as soon as the shock wore off and I was left with nothing but anger as I realized that everything I’d just gone through in the last twenty-four hours was Bram’s fault.

“Sweet,” he said, in a breathy, deep voice. “You are just as lovely as I remember.”

“Don’t
Sweet
me!” I yelled at him, even as I closed the space between us until no more than a few inches separated us. Then I did what any irate and justified woman would do; I unleashed the flat of my palm against his icy cheek.

If it were possible for a three-hundred-year-old vampire to look surprised, that’s exactly how Bram appeared. He didn’t even try to cover his injured cheek; but thankfully, it didn’t seem like he intended to return the favor either. Instead, his long arms hung at his sides as if I hadn’t ever slapped him at all. But this was no surprise. On the contrary, that was Bram to a tee. Eternally calm and cool, he was never one to lose his composure. And he was always dressed to impress. Tonight was no different. Wearing black trousers and a dark gray, long-sleeved dress shirt, he looked like he’d just returned home from the office, or was heading out to a nice dinner.

Of course, I knew better. Bram was a vampire and, thus, didn’t eat food. And as far as any offices went, as the kingpin of the largest illegal potions organization, it wasn’t like he was clocking in at a nine-to-five.

“I am rather disappointed, Sweet. I envisioned our reunion as a much more joyous occasion,” he said in his signature, aristocratic, British accent.

“If I could drive a stake through your heart, I would do it in a second. No questions asked,” I seethed at him. My jaw was clenched and my chest was rising and falling in time with my hurried breathing.

Bram was very tall—probably six-five or so, and broad in the shoulders. He had an overbearing confidence that ensured every person sharing his physical space had to notice him, and it didn’t matter if the observer were a man or a woman. Seeing the perennial black stubble on his chin, cheeks and jaw, he again reminded me of a pirate. Well, pirate or not, no red-blooded woman, or man, could deny that Bram was handsome. Pitch-black hair and light blue eyes, along with a well-defined, narrow nose and masculine jawline endowed him with an attractiveness that any model or actor would envy.

Good looking and charismatic or not, Bram was currently taking up the number one space on my shit list.

“What the hell kinda game are you playing, Bram?” I snarled.

A mix of feelings swarmed through me as I beheld him—incredible anger since I blamed Bram for this whole mess and, yet, there was also relief to find him still alive. Well, not alive as much as still in existence. I hadn’t seen or heard from Bram in several months, not since he’d helped orchestrate the expulsion of my father from office. Naturally, I’d wondered what became of him and hoped he was okay.

Also included with the anger and relief was a sense of gratitude because I never could have dethroned my father if it hadn’t been for Bram … Despite all those feelings swirling inside me, it was my anger that refused to be ignored. Anger because, as far as I knew, it was Bram who was the main threat to establishing the new regime in the Netherworld. But, more importantly, Bram was the reason why my friends in Splendor could still be in danger.

“What happened at Headquarters, Bram?” I demanded, still trembling with repressed rage.

“I must admit how I have missed your … candor, dear Sweet,” Bram said. He was staring at me like he’d never seen a woman before.

“What happened at …” I started again.

“I’m surprised you know each other,” Jax interrupted. I temporarily forgot that he was still standing there. Crossing his arms over his chest, he regarded us with unmasked interest.

“Of course,” Bram replied. His big smile seemed to suggest everything between us was kosher and A-okay. “Sweet and I go way back, don’t we, dear?”

“Stop calling me that!” I yelled at him and had to forcibly hold myself back from unleashing my fist against his face again. “Sweet” was Bram’s pet name for me and even though I’d never found it particularly charming, now it irked me even more than it ever had before. And that’s saying something, because I’d never been fond of the appellation to begin with. “I will repeat my question since you apparently failed to understand it,” I snapped, glaring at him. “What happened at Splendor Headquarters?”

“She has a bit of a temper sometimes,” Jax explained in an apologetic tone to Bram. Bram didn’t reply at first, but kept smiling at me vacantly, and his eyes appeared almost glazed.

“Yes, that she does,” Bram replied finally. The smug grin on his plump lips suddenly revealed his fangs.

“The only reason for my short temper is because you’re a lying pile of undead shit!” I railed at him and had to consciously restrain my fists at my sides because I was seconds away from releasing them on his face and chest. It was silly, really, since Bram was a vampire. That meant he possessed unfathomable speed, and could easily dodge or avoid any of my blows in less than a split second. The only reason I’d been able to strike him at all was because he’d allowed me to.

“Sweet, please try not to get so upset,” Bram purred, holding his hands up as a gesture to placate me before he approached me. “You must recall how difficult it can be for me to restrain myself when I detect a rise in your blood pressure?”

“Don’t you dare come any closer!” I barked at him. “I’m having a hard enough time suppressing the urge to finish you as it is.” Lucky for him that there didn’t appear to be any stakes lying around …

“My dear, let us not lose ourselves in histrionics,” Bram admonished with a slight chuckle. Apparently thinking better of approaching me, he chose to walk toward the house. After taking a few steps forward, he paused and glanced back at me. He proffered his arm, suggesting I take it, or follow him, but I did neither. I wanted some questions answered instead.

“You’re Jax’s boss?” I asked as I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to regulate my breathing. First things first, I had to make damn sure I had all my facts straight.

“Yes, Sweet,” Bram answered, almost in a bored tone. “I thought that much was already quite clear.”

“And Jax’s orders to remove me from Headquarters came from you?” I inquired, adopting my Regulator interrogation hat.

“Yes, Sweet.”

“Were you also responsible for the worm hole?”