I Am the Wild (The Night Firm Book 1) Read online

  "We will sort out all that," Derek says with confidence, though I can sense a flicker of unease in him, despite his valiant attempts to hide it.

  "And who is she?" Dracula asks.

  Derek gestures for me to step forward. "This is our new associate, Miss Eve Oliver. Eve comes highly recommended by Richard Dwarvas and has both an MBA in business and a law degree from Harvard University."

  I'm not entirely sure why he's trying so hard to sell my credentials to this guy—to Dracula — but I do appreciate the reminder to everyone else in this room that I am damn well qualified to be here. Aside from me being super frail and human. And I suppose, mundane.

  Still. I can hold my own.

  I put my hand forward to shake his, but he brings it up to his lips and brushes it with a soft kiss. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance. It seems my sons have certainly done well for themselves."

  "Sons?" I say, my eyes flickering to Sebastian, who grits his teeth and clenches his fists.

  "We aren't your sons," Liam says, stepping forward, his anger on full display.

  Dracula shrugs. "Your birth father gave life to you. I gave you immortality and power beyond measure. Which one sounds like more of a father?"

  Click. Pieces falling into place. Dracula turned the Night brothers. I'm having a serious holy shit moment. I feel a bit as if I'm in a farce, playing the part of the only person who doesn't know the joke's on them.

  But that bite on my neck. That was real.

  I glance at Liam, who looks toward me, as if he knows I'm thinking about him, then he returns his attention to Dracula. "We are paying our debt to you now. We will keep you from being buried alive for all eternity, and you will leave us the hell alone. Forever."

  The tension is so thick in the room I can barely breathe. Everyone is frozen, breaths abated, waiting for what will happen next.

  "If you deliver justice," Dracula says, "then our blood debt will be cleared. You will be free of the sire bond."

  The brothers exchange glances and everyone nods. Well, nearly everyone.

  "I need to hear him say it, first," Liam says. "I need to him to look me in the eyes and tell me he didn't do it." Liam walks over to Dracula and stands inches from him, their eyes deadlocked. "Tell me you didn't kill Mary. Convince me of your innocence."

  Dracula's face changes, morphing from calm and collected, to monstrous in his rage. And I realize I'm seeing Vlad the Impaler right now. He lifts Liam by the cuff of his shirt and pushes him forward, slamming him against the wall in much the same way Liam did to me earlier. I can't help but feel a little bit gloaty about that.

  But when I see the crack in the stone from the impact of Liam's body, I cringe. Ouch, that's gotta hurt.

  Dracula growls at Liam, his teeth elongated, full on vampire mode. "I did not kill my wife. I would never harm her. She was my heart and my soul. I am nothing without her."

  With those words, the anger and rage seems to drain from Dracula, and he drops Liam to the ground and sways back on his heels before righting himself. He seems to come back to the awareness that he is not alone, and his face, previously so full of raw emotion, clamps down instantly, the mask so effective it's tempting to think I just imagined anything but the haughty, cold, measured way he assesses everyone and everything.

  Dracula looks at all four of the Night brothers. "Prove my innocence, and you will get what you want. Fail, and I will not be the only one suffering an eternity of torture. You have my word on that."

  Dracula turns to me and bows. "Miss Oliver, a pleasure." He shifts to Matilda. "Madam Night, good evening." And then with a click of his heels, he turns and marches out.

  Apparently, he knows his way around the castle.

  As soon as he's out of earshot, the room seems to exhale the breath it has been holding for far too long.

  "This was a mistake," Liam says. "We will either be freeing the monster who murdered Mary, or we will be at war with Dracula himself. Neither option is optimal."

  "We have no choice," Derek says with a shrug. "He pulls our strings until he breaks our sire bond. Until then, we are beholden."

  "Is that how it works?" I ask, breaking everyone's focus. Four sets of eyes move to meet mine, as if just realizing I am still here. "If you turn someone, you can control them?"

  "Not entirely," Derek says. "But close. It's a compulsion that's hard to resist. And if you resist too long, it can cause serious pain. But it takes energy from both parties, so it's not used as often as you might imagine."

  "But he's using it now? For this?"

  Derek nods. "He's been formally charged with murdering his wife and unborn child and draining them both of blood."

  I gasp. "Why would he do that? Why would anyone do that?"

  The silence that greets my question tells me all I need to know.

  "If he’s been charged, that means there will be a trial. Are you defending him?"

  "Yes," Elijah says.

  "What if he's guilty? Will you really work to prove his innocence to save yourself?"

  Liam glares at me. "We have no choice. It's not the pain that's the problem. Eventually the compulsion will work. No one is strong enough to resist, especially not when it's Dracula himself. And besides, it’s not our job to determine guilt or innocence. After all, who are we to judge?"

  "Then let's get to work," I say. "I need to bone up on my knowledge of your legal system. Where do I start?"

  They all stare at me, and a flicker of a smile appears on Matilda's face. "Elijah, dear, why don't you take Eve to your study and give her an overview, then direct her to the right books so she can get started."

  Elijah nods. "Would you like to change first?"

  I look down at my formal gown and nod. "Yes. I would, actually. Thank you."

  It doesn't take more than ten minutes for me to change and find my way to Elijah's office. It's a cozy room with wall-to-wall books and a few comfortable chairs in the center near the fireplace. There's a desk to one side piled with more books, and ladders to reach the highest books.

  I take the seat offered, and Elijah brings over a pile of books and places them next to me. "Our kind are tried similarly to the American justice system, by a jury of our peers, with a proper defense and prosecution, and a judge to oversee it. The biggest differences are the laws—what's illegal and what's not—and the punishments. Out of necessity, given the power many of us have, the punishments are harsh and often permanent."

  I nod, "That makes sense, I suppose."

  He raises an eyebrow. "The punishments can seem medieval and even inhumane to someone not used to our ways," he elaborates.

  "Yeah, I get it. Like Dracula will be put to ground while still alive, presumably in a way he can't escape, for all of eternity."

  He nods. "Amongst other things, yes, that is one example. Though other punishments are much more gruesome, and often the guilty do not live through the experience. Paranormals tend to liken themselves to the gods of old and are just as capricious with our punishments."

  I shudder at the images that come to mind, but then I shake it off. This is my life now. Better acclimate fast. "Gotcha. What else?"

  He leans forward, studying me. "You surprise me, Miss Oliver."

  "Just Eve is fine, thanks."

  "Eve, then. You're not what I expected."

  "What did you expect?"

  "Not you," he says, a smile playing at his lips.

  My heart skips a beat at the look he's giving me right now.

  "You have a sharp mind," he says. "That much is clear. And courage, for standing up to Liam like that. That hothead is going to get himself killed someday if he's not careful."

  "He needs balancing," I say. "Too much fire. He needs water to cool his engines. Earth to ground him."

  "What did you just say?"

  "The elements? You know, how we all have these qualities in us, and if they get out of balance it can create an excess of certain personality traits. Honestly, you guys should check out Google more often
. You might learn a few useful things about the 21st century."

  "Yes, of course. Well, you do have a keen eye, Miss Oliver, er, Eve. But I'm afraid I must retire. Sunrise is upon us, and contrary to popular media, we do not function during the daylight hours. Not in this world."

  "Oh, right." I stand as he does. "Um, is it okay if I stay and read? I have a lot to learn and not a lot of time in which to learn it."

  Elijah nods. "As you wish. Until this evening, then." He touches my arm gently, letting his fingers slide over my skin, before walking away.

  My skin tingles where he made contact, and it takes my body a beat to settle down from the effects of his attention.

  These Night brothers might be the death of me, in more ways than one.

  I attempt to read, to study the pile of texts left for me, but my mind keeps returning to the enigmatic Elijah, his clear blue eyes holding keen intelligence and secret knowledge. Giving up, I pull out my sketchbook, which I take with me everywhere, and begin to draw from memory the eyes that I can't put out of my mind. I draw him as I saw him when I entered his study, sitting at his desk, a book before him, his expression one of lost reflection as he looks up at the noise of me entering his space.

  When I'm done, I study it and smile. It's as if he's sitting before me, mid-interruption, just before he's about to speak. I tuck the sketchbook back into my bag and refocus my attentions.

  For the rest of the morning, I read. And let me just set the record straight, in case there was any confusion about this, reading law books is about as exciting as watching paint dry. Paranormal law books are no exception, though a few of their laws raised my eyebrows.

  For example, there's a law that werewolves aren't allowed to leave their clothing on private property not belonging to them, or on public lands, during full moon shifts, unless they request a special permit, which has to be signed by a judge. The penalty for breaking this law is one full moon cycle locked up in silver chains.

  I make good work on the books. One of the ways I was able to graduate with both my MBA and law degree so fast was my ability to speed read and retain the vast majority of the material I take in when I do. When I told the Night brothers that I'm smart, I wasn't being vain or exaggerating. I'm a member of Mensa, after all.

  At around three in the afternoon, I’m in the middle of a thick book on court procedures when I get a flash that I’m needed in the topiary garden. I have no idea by whom or for what, but there’s no resisting the sensation. I decide to take a stroll outside to enjoy some sunshine and Vitamin D before my planned slumber.

  There's a gentle breeze that carries the scent of wild flowers, and the sun is so warm and bright that I feel sorry for vampires who can no longer feel the kiss of daylight on their skin. What a sad existence that must be, to be forced into darkness, never again experiencing nature's light.

  I make my way through the garden, passing bushes molded into fantastical beasts straight from fairy tales, following my instincts and marveling at the artistry that went into creating the landscape around the castle as I go, until I hear something coming from one of the bushes. A meowing, tiny and faint, but there.

  I squat down to peer into the bush, and stuck there between two branches is a tiny black kitten with big yellow eyes staring at me plaintively. It meows again and looks at the end of its rope. Careful not to hurt the fur ball, I maneuver it out of the bramble and scoop it into a pouch I make of my sweatshirt. I give the kitten a quick exam to see if there are any obvious injuries.

  "You look in one piece," I say. "And it seems you're a boy."

  He holds eye contact with me and purrs each time I pet him. He looks at me with such love and devotion my heart melts, and I'm determined I will keep him. Hopefully I don't have to go battle with the brothers over this, but I will if I must.

  I head back to the castle and I find Lily, bringing her into my plan. After a high-pitched squeal of delight, she goes off in search of food and supplies to care for him.

  I bring him back to my room and take a warm cloth to his fur, brushing away bits of stick and dirt. He purrs the whole time.

  When I'm done, I hold his face up to mine, nuzzling him with my nose. "You're going to need a name," I say. "What shall we call you?"

  Lily comes in, carrying a bowl of food and one with water, and I ask her the name of the bush he got stuck in.

  "It's called a Moonweed," she says. "Though it's not really a weed. And it can only be grown with magic."

  I look into the kitten's eyes again, studying him. "I'm not going to name you Weed. But I like the name Moon. What do you think?"

  He purrs and licks my nose. I laugh. "I think we have a winner. Lily, meet Moon."

  She claps and then sits next to me and gives him some love. "I don't think we've ever had a pet in the castle before. Especially not a cat. This is going to be so fun!"

  "Do you think the brothers will give me a hard time about it?" I ask.

  Lily shrugs. "Who cares? What are they going to do to stop you? Take him to Granny first. Once she's on board, they're powerless. Everyone thinks they run things around here, but it's really Granny. Always has been."

  I yawn, the day, or rather night, catching up with me. Lily nods sympathetically. "It's a hard schedule to get used to," she says. "My kind are drawn to the sun, but fortunately we also don't need much sleep. But humans do. Get some rest. Tonight is going to be a busy day."

  I laugh at that and nod, my body suddenly feeling as if weights have been added to my arms and legs.

  Lily pulls the curtains in my room, sending it into complete darkness, and stokes the fire to ward off the constant chill in the castle. I always dreamed of living in a castle when I was a little girl, but I never realized how drafty they could be.

  Before Lily leaves the room I call after her. "How do I use the plumbing in the bathroom?"

  I'm looking forward to a long bath once I'm not so exhausted.

  She smiles. "It's not plumbing, it's magic." She makes a series of symbols in the air. "Use those and you'll be fine."

  I practice a few times and she nods. "You've got it. Goodnight, Eve."

  She closes the door softly and I crawl into bed with Moon, who curls up on my shoulder in the crook of my neck and purrs contentedly.

  It only takes moment for me to fall asleep after my head hits the pillow.

  That night my dreams turn dark. I'm in the woods, alone at night. Naked. Bleeding. Scared. Moon is trapped in barbed vines and I can't get to him. He's crying, meowing to get out, but every time he moves he gets cut.

  My hands and arms are covered in bloody gashes, but I've made no progress in getting him freed.

  Then a tall man walks up to me, black cape flowing behind him. It's Dracula, his pale face shining in the moonlight.

  He walks with a black ebony cane tipped with jade at the handle, his dark eyes taking everything in.

  When he reaches me, he smiles, but his eyes remain hard, cold, calculating. Taking another step, he places himself between me and Moon, then leans in, sniffing me. "You smell different," he says. "How have they not noticed?"

  Then he pulls my body towards him, his pupils dilating as he brings my bloody hands up to his mouth. His tongue flicks out, licking one of the wounds, and he smiles. "Ah, now I understand."

  He laughs, dropping my arm, and reaches into the vines to pull out Moon. He does not get cut, but rather seems to repel the barbed plants away. I reach for Moon, grateful he's okay, when Dracula clutches the kitten around the neck. He stares at me for a moment. "Never trust us," he says, then he snaps Moon's neck.

  I wake with a scream, and Moon startles from my shoulder, meowing and stretching as I jerk up in bed. I see him grooming himself and relief floods me. It was just a dream. But my flash is screaming at me, buzzing under my skin in a way I can't ignore.

  Dracula is dangerous.

  That much I know.

  The question is how dangerous? Dangerous enough to kill and drain his wife and unborn child?

>   Dangerous enough to be a threat to the Nights and to me and Moon?

  That's the question I need answered.

  And soon.

  The Legend

  If you want the moon, do not hide from the night. If you want a rose, do not run from the thorns. If you want love, do not hide from yourself. ~ Rumi

  That night I wake from a restless sleep full of strange dreams as my subconscious tries to process all that I've learned.

  Moon is off exploring our suite, and the fire in my bedroom is dying down, leaving the room with a deep chill. I decide it's time to test the magical plumbing and take a bath.

  I handle my morning business then stand before the large bathtub and draw the symbols into the air that Lily showed me. Immediately, hot steaming water begins to fill the tub. I test it with my hand and sigh at the warmth, then quickly strip and step in. It's a heady experience, playing with magic.

  The heat fills me, penetrating a layer of chill I thought would never leave. I add scented oils to the bath and scrub my body with a soft sponge, then lay back with my eyes closed, enjoying the peace. My relaxation is brought to an end when I hear Moon hissing at something in the other room. I step out of the water that stayed hot the entire bath—much to my surprise—and wrap a thick robe around myself before making my way to my kitten to see what's upsetting him.

  There's nothing obvious out of the ordinary, but the bed is made and the fire is stoked, bringing heat back into the space. This wouldn't seem that odd in and of itself, except that last night I locked the door to my suit from the inside, and it's still locked.

  No one could have gotten in to do these things, and Moon is still hissing at something that I can't see.

  I pick up the angry kitten and soothe him as I dress, then the two of us make our way to the dining room for breakfast.

  Matilda, Lily, and the four Night brothers are already seated around the large table. The brothers each have a goblet of crimson liquid. Blood, presumably. I shiver at the thought and wonder where it came from. And though they don't eat real food, the center of the table is filled with platters of bacon, fruit, yogurt, granola, eggs, pancakes and biscuits, a pitcher of orange juice and a pot of freshly brewed tea.