Black Magic Rose Read Free Page B

a snowball.  
    She pushed the slider open and walked to the grill, throwing side-glances over her shoulders as she went. Where was he? She hated that they could sneak up on her with no warning at all. She turned on the grill and went back in the house.  
    When she returned to cook the steak, she smelled that mix of leather and soap. She closed her eyes and inhaled. He certainly did smell clean and manly. Nothing wrong with that, if he were a man and alive.  
    She threw the steak on the grill and stomped back into the house, glaring in the direction of his scent.  
    With one wall made almost entirely of glass, the chalet-style home her parents loved made it nearly impossible to find a place to relax without feeling like eyes were on her. After dinner she organized the bookcase, dusted, vacuumed, and finally decided to take a bath. There was only one window in the bathroom, and it had curtains and blinds, both of which she pulled tight.  
    After that, she snuggled up in bed wearing her fleece jammies. She rarely wore this much clothing to sleep, but she wasn’t risking exciting “the guard.”  
    “Cool, comfortable, and dead or hot and sweaty, but alive. I’ll deal with the sweat,” she said, straightening the blanket.
    She lay in bed wondering what the vampire outside her house was doing and whether he was staring into her room watching her. Frustrated, she rolled over and pulled the blanket up over her head, willing herself to sleep.  
    Nearly an hour later she was still awake and annoyed. Giving up on sleeping, she grabbed a book and her itty-bitty book light. But before she’d read more than a page, she was sound asleep.  
    *****
    Dragomir Petrescu watched. He listened. He inhaled. Nothing. No one. Not even a small animal stirred in the woods.  
    The night was so quiet he heard Sofia breathing inside her bedroom. Even, relaxed respirations. She slept.  
    Good .  
    He’d agreed to help Jankin because they’d been friends for more than six hundred years. When he received the call, the doctor told him it was a top priority and that he’d trust no one else for the job. The worry in Jankin’s voice brought Dragomir from the front lines in Italy where Bas Dubh was attempting to build a stronghold near Rome, using the multitude of tourists to fortify its army.  
    Dragomir smirked. He’d been duped. His old friend had played quite a trick. He admired Jankin’s skill. Telling Dragomir the job was very dangerous and only a master vampire of his caliber would be mentally prepared to handle this adversary was genius.  
    He shook his head. His own arrogance had been his downfall. He should have known nothing that exciting could possibly occur in Wooddale. And now, he was stuck. He’d agreed to take the assignment, sight unseen.  
    A man of his word, he would never renege on his promise, in spite of his fierce desire to see Kiernan MacDonald dead. He was sure Jankin had bet on this, and it jerked his chain something fierce.  
    The recent uptick in attacks on innocents angered Dragomir. If Rome hadn’t been in the same situation, Dragomir would have noticed the trend occurring in New England, and he’d have come on his own, though he’d have gone where the action was, not come to one of the sleepiest towns in the region.  
    Since joining The Alliance in 1412, Dragomir had fought in many wars and lost many an ally on the battlefield or in the pursuit of Kiernan. The damn vampire hid behind his army, never fighting his own battles, but letting the members of Bas Dubh do it for him.  
    The ravages of war haunted his memory. There was no escaping the echoes of the screaming men and women, those who died and those who lost someone in the fight.  
    War taught Dragomir that all issues were black and white. Good versus evil. Light versus dark. And letting your mind wander to what ifs was the same as questioning your entire reason for existing. Pointless and confusing.  
    It was Jankin who understood Dragomir.