Blood & Roses: Warriors of the Krieger Page 3

  “Nope, I don’t feel the need for one,” I shrugged.

  “Well, I suggest you hire one,” he spat. “These feral Lycan victims can walk in the daylight,” his voice thundered. After a short pause, he sighed, “In fact, I will send one to your home at daybreak.” He stood up and marched his big ass Doc Martin’s right out of my office before I could protest. What an ass! I wasn’t only talking about his physical one – although I checked that one too – I was talking about his attitude. Granted he was the man from my dreams, but that didn’t mean I automatically liked the warrior.

  I heard Lydia’s heels clicking double time coming for the office. She flung the door open and looked pleased. “Please tell me you got a date with that hunk-a-man!” she demanded.

  “No! It was strictly business!” I yelled at her. “Remember that guy that was in here a couple of nights ago? The one that was grabbing at the waitresses and trying to start a fight with that vamp lawyer?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “Yeah, he was creepy,” she shivered.

  “Well, I guess he was attacked by a Lycan and he’s turned feral; killing female vampires and humans. The Krieger Dragus wants us to be more careful. We need to put my security plan in place.”

  “Oh, Dragus,” she purred. “What a sexy name.” Lydia actually sat back and fanned herself like a fainting movie star. Her acting skills needed work.

  “Yeah, okay,” I laughed, unsteady. “Hey, he said we need to let our Nachtmann know. I guess once they’re bitten by a Lycan, they can walk in the daylight. Make sure you tell yours at home.”

  “You don’t have one at your home, remember,” she said sarcastically. “Don’t you think it may be time to hire one?”

  “Well, I have one now.” I grimaced. “He’s sending one to the house. Jackass got up before I could tell him no.”

  “Well, he’s right, you need to hire one to keep watch over the house,” Lydia smirked. She reached inside her pocket and pulled out a nail file. The scratching sound of her meticulously sanding them made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

  “Girl, I am 291 years old and you are 302. Each one of us is stronger than the W.W.F. put together. I think it’s pointless. My security system and access to my room could deter a thousand year old vampire. Now get out of here and go meet with the employees.” I shooed her toward the damn door before I got a headache. And so I could think about the warrior from my dreams.

  I hung my head so that she wouldn’t notice my little freak out about knowing Dragus. Of course she knew me better than she knew herself.

  “Wait a minute,” she said spinning around on her heels. “There’s something you aren’t telling me, Charity. What happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit,” she growled. “Spit it out, Harwood!”

  Lydia knew about the dream. In the beginning, when I had first been turned, I told her about it. She had said then that it may have been the vampire who attacked me, but I knew that was not the case. The warrior in my dream was not out to hurt me.

  “I need you to think back to when I was turned.” She nodded and looked really confused. “Do you remember me telling you about the human dream I was having for months before the attack?”

  “Yes, about a warrior who was looking for you?”

  “The warrior in my dream was him,” I whispered.

  “Him who?” she asked, confused.

  “Dragus,” I laughed.

  Her eyes popped wide, “You’re kidding?” Her nails were all but forgotten. The file was placed back inside her pocket and she stood up out of her chair. Then she began to pace the floor.

  “No, Lydia. I swear it was him!”

  “That explains why he was so formal with you. He knows you too Charity,” she beamed. Lydia walked back and forth in front of my desk, pacing as she spoke. “It’s been said that the powerful ones, like the Krieger, have had their destiny’s chosen for them from the beginning.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, confused. Lydia sat down and rolled her eyes at me.

  “When a Krieger is created, they are given powers beyond our imagination. This is because they are warriors. The first warrior, Akalika, held all the abilities. Only Krieger make other Krieger. Their blood is so powerful, that they pass down their powers to each new warrior, like a father to a son. It’s been said that Akalika had the ability to sense his lover before he even knew her. This special power has manifested over time to include, the ability for a Krieger to track his bonded mate anywhere in the world and contacting her in her human dreams.”

  “Is that why he kept calling me ‘my lady’? It was like I was already royalty to him,” I asked. The thought of him knowing me also embarrassed me quite a bit. If he had known me, why didn’t he say something?

  Lydia laughed, “Could be why he’s sending a Nachtmann to watch over your home, too.”

  “Well, I don’t know him. If he thinks he can control me just because of a dream almost three hundred years ago, he’s got another think coming.” I clinched my fist and promised myself not to think of that damn dream again. The one thing I didn’t want to deal with was an obsessive warrior trying to boss me around.

  Dragus planned on sending someone to the house to watch over me. I’ll show him. Whoever shows up, I’ll just send them on their merry way back to town. Wait! Ha! Dragus didn’t know where I lived. Well, on second thought, he was a Krieger, he’d find out.

  “Charity,” Lydia sighed. “You need to get to know him. It’s fate! Do you have any idea how long he’s been waiting on you?” Good Lord, did that woman just swoon?

  “You really believe he knows about the dream?” I was skeptical. This was the first I had ever heard of the Krieger background. Of course, I haven’t been around a lot of them. So I was clueless about Lydia’s observation.

  “Well, yes,” she laughed and then took off through the door, but turned around just before leaving. “From what I know, he will not be able to be away from you. Once they find their mates, the warriors cannot be away from them. Think that over and get back to me.” Her tinkling laughter echoed through the room as she walked out into the club.

  Disgusted, I scooped order forms up off the desk and made my way over to the liquor locker. We kept the booze locked up nice and tight; hence the name “liquor locker”. I paced through taking stock of what we had and what we needed. The whole time, I couldn’t get Dragus’ voice out of my head. When I closed my eyes, I saw his brilliant blue stare, piercing my soul. The last thing I needed was to obsess about the Krieger that marched into my office proving he was a tough warrior. I already knew how tough they were.

  For some reason, he irritated me. I know he was from my dream and I had actually liked him all those years ago. But now, I am my own person. I don’t need a warrior trying to tell me what to do. Oh who am I kidding? Although he irritated me, I actually thought he was an intriguing, handsome warrior. Forcing myself to push him to the back of my mind, I grabbed the step stool and used it to reach the bottles of vodka on the top shelf. I continued taking stock; trying not to think of dreams and blue-eyed warriors.

  Chapter 2

  Dragus

  I don’t know what stunned me more, the fact that Charity was the woman from my dreams or the fact that she was such a royal pain in the ass. That woman irritated me with my every being, even though I knew she was my destiny. I think.

  She was exactly as she had been in my human dreams all those centuries ago, beautiful beyond belief. Charity’s deep blue eyes pierced right through my soul. She still had the silken blonde hair that fell in ringlets around her delicate, heart shaped face. Pouty lips that just begged to be caressed. Her skin reminded me of peaches and cream. And she smelled of blood and roses. Obviously, she had just made a trip to the Red Cross, for her nightly feeding.

  For months I tried to track her through her dreams. She was so scared of me that when I would speak to her, she would vanish. Which I assumed was her waking up from the nightmare I had caused. I
never had a chance to tell her who I was or to even ask her where she was, so I could find her. After several months, she ceased to dream. My heart had broken, because I thought she had died. Almost three hundred years has past and I never believed that she had been changed into a vampire. Relief washed through me at the thought of someone changing her. I owed whoever that was a great amount of gratitude.

  The other Krieger remained downtown to patrol the streets looking for Adam Castillo. I took the Hummer and drove back to the station to do some research on Charity. All vampires were required to have a file in the Krieger database. Everything was listed, from their birth parents to their current address.

  I sat down in the rolling office chair and turned on my computer. The walls in this place were sterile white. No personal mementos adorned my desk or the walls around my office. The twins who were bonded had pictures of their mates on their desk. Would I ever get to that point in my life where there would be a picture of my mate on this desk? A few days ago I would have said “Hell no”.

  The system booted up fairly quickly. I typed in her name and pressed the enter button.

  The first page said her year of birth was 1722. She was born outside the town of Aberdeen. This very small town in Scotland was destroyed by fires a few years after her changing in 1748. Her sponsor was listed as Lydia Duncan. Charity was a telepath, just like Adam Castillo, but not as strong.

  I scrolled down the screen to read the reason for her change. Ms. Harwood had been attacked by a rouge vampire and Lydia had found her barely alive; she took it upon herself to change Charity. This was very close to normal for the records of the older vampires. Most of them had been changed against their will.

  I scrolled down the screen and continued reading. There was a part of the application that requested additional information, if the applicant had been attacked. It simply stated ‘No Comment’. This section was there for our records. If there was a rouge vampire loose and was attacking humans unprovoked, we would step in and arrest the individual, no matter when the attack had happened. The absence of information told me either they did not know who attacked her, or she opted not to disclose the information.

  I picked up the phone and called the Nachtmann headquarters. Charity did not have a daytime watchman and I just could not let her be alone at her home unprotected. She needed to have at least one daytime guard, maybe two.

  “Master Dragus. What can I do for you?” Steven Smith was the head Nachtmann for the area of Port Royal. He was a human warrior, who has been helping us out for about fifteen years now. Nachtmann Smith retired from the human military and came highly recommended to the daytime watchmen.

  “I want to hire a Nachtmann for a friend who lives just north of town. He needs to be highly trained.” As always, working with these humans, I felt the need to be straight forward and let the authority ring true to my words. But deep down, my chest ached, not knowing the future of what will happen with these Lycans. With Charity possibly being involved, that ache turned into a raging fire in my dead heart.

  “Let’s see who I have.” Steven rustled through some papers on his desk and then he cleared his throat. “Alright, Nachtmann Keith Pullman comes highly trained. I personally recommend him.”

  “I will e-mail you the information on the client. Please remind him, he is not to handle her unless she is in danger. She also requires everyone to call her by her first name. All other orders are to come from me. Ms. Harwood will probably demand he leave, but explain to Nachtmann Pullman that I am the only one who can give him orders. If he has any questions or concerns, you tell him to call my cell.” I trusted Steven to obey my demands. Cut and dry, that’s the way I like it. It’s the way it should be.

  Charity needed protection around the clock in my mind, but I couldn’t do that to her. She would kill me if I tried to tell her what to do. I figured that out almost immediately when I met her tonight. She was independent and very strong willed. I’m assuming she has been on her own for most of her life.

  “Is this going on the Krieger expense account,” he paused. “Or do I need to set up an account for Ms. Harwood? She is not in the system.”

  “No, Steven. You need to bill me directly,” I insisted.

  Steven chuckled low under his breath, “Yes, sir.”

  I took a deep breath and dialed Nights to talk to Charity about her new guard.

  Charity

  Order form complete, signed and faxed to the vendor; it only took me an hour. The night was looking good. Then again, the phone did have to ring and mess everything up.

  “Nights! Charity speaking,” I answered in my perfect nightclub owner voice.

  “My lady? This is Krieger Dragus.” Hmm. Damn hot and sexy thunder voice calling. No! He irritated me, I wouldn’t think of him that way.

  “What can I do for you sir?” Man, I was doing a great job at trying to be sweet. Although he was a sexy, hunk-o-burning-love, he still aggravated me for some reason. And that damn dream didn’t help my whirlwind of emotions on the subject either.

  “I am sending Nachtmann Keith Pullman to your residence an hour before sunrise. He comes highly recommended and has passed all security screenings,” he said proudly.

  “No,” I said flatly, trying not to stare a hole through the phone.

  “No?”

  “No, I don’t need a damn Nachtmann. My home is tighter than Fort Knox. I appreciate your concern, but I’m good.” I was proud of myself, standing up to the warrior.

  “Ms. Harwood. I must insist…”

  I cut him off, “Thank you for your concern. Have a nice evening Dragus.” Yeah, I showed him. I hung right the hell up. Point two for me, ha!

  The club was almost full tonight. Customers were happy, staff was working hard and money was flowing in. It was a textbook evening at Nights. Everything was running like a well-oiled machine.

  Lydia and I decided to leave the club right around midnight and go shopping. Oakland Mall was open around the clock and had the best stores for miles around. Lydia’s objective was shoes. That girl was like a kid in a candy store when it came to leather foot apparel.

  The first store made $330 off of her for one pair of size six candy apple red hooker shoes. The red haired twenty something vampire sales lady was obviously on commission, because she practically skipped to the register to finish the sale. Second store took her for $565 for two pairs of boots, same style, in two different colors. The gray haired human sales lady could have cared less if we bought a bag of dog poop. She was obviously paid minimum wage.

  We walked unconsciously through the gamut of stores. The store that sold all of those lotions and room scent enhancers was the busiest one tonight. It seems that when they threw a sale, every preteen girl and single woman within fifty miles will flock to that store. Of course, I counted myself in that group of women, but unlike them, I was not brave enough to endure an hour standing in line to pay for the products I wanted. Lydia and I continued on past the food court.

  All of the food venders were closing for the night, but the mall was busy with their after the holiday sales. Walking down the corridors like herded cattle, we came across a group of teenage humans. All dressed like a bunch of Marilyn Manson followers. Black hair, black boots, black clothes, and black lips were the standard dress code for these freaks. Lydia and I laughed as we walked by them. Marilyn Manson groupie number one was the first to speak.

  “Hey! Ladies! Looking for some fresh blood?” The pimple faced jerk laughed and stretched out a pale looking wrist the size of a twig.

  “Fresh supply right over here,” dork number two spouted while stretching his neck toward us.

  I grabbed Lydia’s forearm and pulled her along. Her temper usually kept company with a short fuse. She immediately growled and I tightened my grip on her arm. Oh well, she was older and therefore, stronger, so I did not stand a chance.

  Lydia pulled free and in record time was in the first punks face, fangs bared and a feral snarl bubbled out of her chest. The white in h
er eyes veined up with blood, proving her temper was pretty high. Before I could react, one of the other punks carefully pulled his black leather trench coat to the side and flashed a wooden stake. I gasped and my first reaction was to grab Lydia and make a run for it.

  “Careful bloodsucker!” he yelled. Lydia reigned in her temper and started to back away. Who do you think I learned the ‘duck and run’ maneuver from? Maybe running away was the right thing to do, but her fear lit my protective side on fire.

  I, like a fool, stepped up to provoke death in the face. “This place is filled with my kind. You stake us and you will get what’s coming to you!” I growled.

  Stake boy grabbed my wrist and with it, he drew a line from the inside of my elbow to my wrist. I pretty much freaked out; first, because the little punk squeezed my wrist and second, because the bastard cut me with a wooden stake. I felt the blood rush to my eyes as my anger flared, but before I could lunge at the kid, the pain spiked in my arm.

  Just as I fell on my ass screaming in pain, I saw another huge black leather trench coat jump between me and the guy with the stake. Instinctively, I flung my bleeding arm over my heart and the other over my eyes. I rolled to my side and gasped in pain. All I could hear over my screams was Lydia’s voice trying to calm me.

  “Shh. It’s okay,” she begged. I nodded and tried to calm my breathing as best I could, but the burning in my arm did not fade.

  Having wood rake your skin is about as comfortable as taking a hot branding iron and holding it in place on your body. It hurts! I risked looking at my forearm, bad idea. Man he got me good. Blood was oozing from the wound, spilling out onto the floor and my wrist was bruised. I flinched at the familiar sight. I don’t like anyone touching my fucking wrist! Lydia unwound her scarf from her neck and used it to wrap up my bleeding arm. I tried to protest, but she silenced me with a hard glare.

  Strong arms lifted me off the floor and I just about fainted when I looked up at my savior. Damn! Dragus was carrying me. Those brilliant blue eyes looked down at me like he was trying to figure out whether to kiss me or kill me. I think he wanted to kill me.