1. Connor O’Doyle

Chapter 1

Connor O’Doyle

TWO WEEKS LATER

Skeleton’s make sandwiches?

“So, he’s not trying to murder me?” The tone in Jekyll’s voice has me looking at the phone with incredulity. I can just imagine the idiot’s green eyes full of hope, his expression like that of a wounded dog all because Vlad is mad at him.

I swap the device to my other ear. “No, Jekyll, if anyone murders you it will be me,” I say, setting my leather duffel on the ground as I open the side door into the quiet castle and make my way inside. “You shot me with a fucking tranq dart, you asshole. You should be more worried about when I will murder you.”

“It’s painless,” Jekyll intones, as if shooting me is trivial. “I even tried it on myself beforehand.”

I growl into the phone, unsurprised by the fact that he would test it on himself first.

“You’re the one who said Vlad was losing his mind over a human, and you wanted help,” he rushes out, then swallows loudly. “You’re certain he’s not trying to kill me?”

“I didn’t say that. He just isn’t trying to kill you right now.”

The heavy door shuts behind me, and not for the first time do I find myself wishing I had put in an elevator to reach the top floor. Vlad’s bitching be damned, the sight of the grand staircase and the many steps leading to the north wing leaves me feeling even more exhausted than I already am. The old vampire may have recently started eating again and found his mate, but any talks of renovations and Dracula gets testy, the fucker.

“Well, that’s good news then.” Jekyll sounds delighted at the prospect of Vlad killing him in future, rather than immediately, for absconding with his favorite nanny. Jekyll lost touch with reality long before I met him, and although he is younger than me in years, his mind is not.

“I cannot believe you took Hilda,” I mutter into the phone as I grip the large duffle and head up the many stairs to my destination. The smell of wood polish filters through my nose, informing me that at least the cleaning service is doing a good job.

“You make it sound as if I kidnapped her,” he grumbles, his voice muffled as he bites into something.

“Why did you take her anyway?” I ask, genuinely wondering if he will tell me, since he saw fit to call me in the middle of the night seemingly to chitchat as I made the drive back to the castle.

“Contrary to popular belief, I didn’t exactly take her. She wanted to come with me,” he mutters. “My gods, this is the most disgusting thing I have ever eaten.”

He chews loudly, smacking obnoxiously into the receiver and I wrinkle my nose. “Then why are you still eating it?”

“Hilda made me a sandwich.”

I stop at the top landing while my brows go up.

In the many decades that I lived with Hilda, I have never known her to make anyone food, of any kind, much less a sandwich. At most, she would bring Vlad a blood bag to get him to eat on occasion, but never took any for herself. It’s odd that she left the castle to begin with, and now she’s fixing him dinner.

“You did take her. You walked into the castle uninvited and left with Vlad’s nanny in the middle of the night,” I snap, making my way down the long hallway to my bedroom, cringing a bit when I smell the subtle scent of... sweets? “It took me a week to convince guests that Hilda was in costume, and I even had to install animatronics in the hallways to sell it. It was a disaster.”

Hilda is ancient, so old no one truly knows her age, which is impossible to even guess at since she is literally a bunch of walking bones.

“Well, that’s clever.”

“Why are you calling me, Jekyll?” I cut to the chase, needing off the phone as my skin crawls with the desire to run. It’s been a fortnight since I’ve been able to let my baser self free, and Jekyll isn’t exactly my favorite person at the moment, although he’s more than oblivious to that fact.

“I’ve sent a new sample for you to try.” His voice is distant, as if he isn’t near the phone, then comes the sound of him gargling, and he spits loudly. “Blech, I’m never asking her to make me anything ever again.”

“You should be grateful she didn’t poison you instead,” I retort, my gaze traveling over the gray-and-blue papered walls as I stride along the hallway, my shoes clacking on the parquet flooring.

“It should arrive in the next few days,” he continues as if I’ve said nothing. It isn’t unusual for Jekyll to forward any of his new experimental remedies for just about anything my way, but it has been a while.

I hesitate. “What’s the sample for?”

“Your chef problem. I packed a new vial for you to try because last month you mentioned you were having some aggression to her smell.”

Whitley . At just the thought of her name, it’s as if her scent comes back to haunt me full force, sugary sweet with a hint of spice. It makes my skin crawl and the hair raise on the nape of my neck. It is seemingly everywhere now.

The second she stepped foot inside the castle, she put me on edge and made my temper erupt constantly. I’d forgotten I told Jekyll anything about it.

I awkwardly adjust the phone on my shoulder to open the door to my room. “What will it do?”

He clears his throat. “It’s a very mild sedative that should put you into a relaxed state so that her scent has less of an impact.”

“You don’t sound certain,” I point out, toeing off my shoes and letting my feet sink into the soft carpet of my bedroom as I drop my bag to the floor.

“I’m certain it can’t hurt.”

The smell of stale air floods my nostrils from the room being closed for so long. My gaze travels around the space and my lip curls.

Nothing has been moved since I left, and the massive bed is still turned down, the blue coverlet and sheets I slept in still unmade. The large wooden wardrobe on one wall is open with clothes hanging about from where I tossed what I could in a duffle before chasing Vlad down. I am going to have to hire a different cleaning service for some of the wings. Vlad will lose it entirely if I suggest the human crew enters his apartments.

I sniff deeply at the air and my nose twitches as her scent hits it. “Two weeks and the smell of her still lingers. I’ll try the stuff, anything to keep it from getting to me.”

“Sounds like it could be a perfume issue. What do you mean two weeks?” he asks, as my keys clink together when they land on the nearby solid-oak dresser, along with my wallet. “You left the castle?”

I groan inwardly and my teeth grind in my mouth as I unbutton my suit jacket. “Yes. I left the castle.”

“Ha. Good on you, then. Can’t say I’m not shocked that Vlad didn’t expire without you,” he says around chuckles.

Speaking of Vlad, no one will ever believe it. “You can’t say a bloody word to anyone about this,” I tell him, swearing him to secrecy. “No one, Jekyll.”

“Who would I tell other than Hilda? And she doesn’t talk back. Although, I have tried every way I can to engage her in conversation.” He scoffs, and then his tone turns whiney and petulant. “I thought we were making headway with the sandwich.”

“I’ve told you repeatedly she only ever speaks to Vlad and does not eat. What did you think was going to happen? That she would welcome you into her bony arms and turn cook extraordinaire overnight?”

“Oh, come off it. She’s amazing and anyone with eyes can see it,” he says, as if it is truly inconceivable that someone would be put off by her appearance.

I grimace as I toss the phone to the bed, listening to him on speaker while I undress.

Jekyll has been infatuated with Hilda, obsessed even, since learning of her existence. Only the gods know why she chose to leave with the idiot. Jekyll is an eccentric, creative genius, but his methods are unorthodox to say the least. While he is a solid friend, I can’t see any female being able to put up with him for any length of time, even a skeleton.

“Go on, then. Why did the wolf boy leave the castle?” The sound of slurping rings through the speaker, and I groan.

“You will never believe what happened. Vlad found his mate.”

“Ah, yes, the human. She’s pretty enough I suppose, his smell was certainly all over her,” he says, his tone going up an octave. “Frank was livid.”

I freeze midway through undoing my slacks. “When did you meet Aubrey?”

The phone goes silent.

“Dammit, Jekyll,” I spit out. “Did you help Frank take her?”

“Well, umm.” His voice sounds pained. “No?”

“Vlad is definitely going to kill you,” I say, irritated that he would allow it—he must have if he met Aubrey that night.

“But why?” he whines. “I am not the one who took her. I figured she was his mate with how blended her smell was, but you know Frank, he doesn’t listen to anyone.”

“Have you heard from him?”

“No. you know it’s rare he speaks to anyone, like the rest of us.”

I stuff down my anger and breathe a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. Vlad has her back now, but that probably won’t save your sorry ass if he finds out.”

“ If he finds out,” Jekyll says. I can almost hear him raising a brow, knowing I won’t say anything to Vlad. “A human mate. What is the world coming to, eh?”

I grin, uncaring that Vlad has mated with a human. He could mate with an ogre for all I care so long as he stops acting like an invalid. It took me an entire century to bring Vlad back to the living, except I’m not so sure that I am the one who did it. I am quite certain I owe Aubrey a thanks. “After Frank took her, Vlad flew to America to get her back and?—”

“Wait,” he cuts in. “Vlad left the castle? He left Romania?”

“Well, when someone takes your fucking mate , what do you expect? He left that same night after her.” What happened next could have been avoidable had he but taken the time to listen to me, the stubborn blockhead.

“That’s fair, I suppose.” I can hear the contriteness in his tone.

“I tracked him down a week later and found him in a veterinary office.”

He sputters into a coughing fit, wheezing as he rights himself. “ No . You’re joking.”

“Yes, in a cat crate.” A grin pulls at my lips as I recall how furious he was after I saved him from being force fed bugs for days. They thought he was a mouse-eared bat! Funniest moment of my life, if I’m being honest.

Jekyll wheezes with laughter. “A cat crate?”

“I wish I could make this shit up,” I tell him, grabbing a pair of light track suit bottoms from my dresser.

“How the bloody hell did he end up in a veterinary clinic?”

“Picked up by animal control, his file said.” My grin spreads as I recall just how trapped I found him. If the idiot had only listened, he wouldn’t have been captured at all. He’d been severely injured—from being hit by a truck, no less—and didn’t have enough blood to heal himself.

He laughs uproariously at this. “That’s amazing. Where is he now?”

The phone vibrates and a notification lights up the screen as I make my way back to the bed.

“Greece,” I murmur, my attention elsewhere as I grab the phone.

Felix:

The numbers are in.

I fire off a quick text back.

Me:

And?

Felix:

Congratulations. You’ve already doubled your investment.

“The hell is he doing in Greece?” Jekyll asks.

“Honeymoon,” I answer while pulling up my track pants, intent on getting to the woods as quickly as possible. “I have to go. I’ll call you back later.”

“Wait,” he blurts before I can hang up. “I’ve packed a supply of sunscreen for Vlad as well.”

“I doubt Vlad will touch anything you’ve made now,” I say, knowing Vlad won’t let go of what happened for some time.

“He would be stupid not to. I tweaked the formula and if he leaves it on his skin for fifteen minutes the effects last for days.”

“How many days?”

Papers shuffle and crackle as he rummages. “It will be a trial period, of course. Let’s see, where the hell did I put the blasted—Ah, here we are. It should last four to seven days after the initial fifteen minutes, and it is lighter and waterproof.” His voice takes on a boastful aspect as if he had a breakthrough. If the stuff really does last days, I suppose he has, and Vlad will be hard-pressed to not accept it.

“Trying to get back in his good graces?” I ask, as my attention lands on the large window and the sliver of moonlight peeking through the heavy navy-colored drapes. My skin crawls with the need to let my wolf form take over and agitation rides up my spine.

“I thought it couldn’t hurt.”

“I’m still beating the shit out of you next time I see you,” I grunt, recalling how my new suit was destroyed that night, and all the bullshit that came after.

I end the call, not bothering to waste niceties on him, as I stride toward the door and send another message to Felix. Frank’s financial advisor is human, but the way he works with numbers is astounding. Any investment information he gives is always spot on, as if the man has foresight with money.

Me:

Good. Thanks for the info.

Felix:

The Ostara was delivered yesterday and set up in the maze as you directed.

Me:

Excellent.

After seeing the marble statue of Ostara, the pagan goddess, staring down at the egg in her hand at a gallery in London, I had to have it on sight. Something of her visage called to me, and I paid full price, not offering to have Felix haggle over the details.

Felix:

I would advise you to throw another gala and soon. The guests are raving. Most likely because George has spread pictures far and wide.

My lips twitch at that. Felix’s ex-husband, George, is quite the character, and has been a guest in the castle since it opened. Although the two men have divorced, they’re still amicable, and Felix knew sending George would help put the place on the map. The white-haired old man has become a favored visitor. Even Vlad likes him, and Vlad doesn’t like anyone.

Me:

I’ll see what I can do.

Another gala ? An idea pops into my head as I remember a movie about a castle with a beast that Aubrey and Bernadette were discussing animatedly a few days ago before she and Vlad left for Greece. Aubrey did mention an idea about the maids and waiters wearing costumes, and if the dinner could be choreographed, it would attract even more guests. More to think on tomorrow.

I slide the phone into my pocket and shut the door to my room behind me, determined to get to the woods as quickly as possible. My nose crinkles automatically at the distinct smell of cookies and the peppery smell of spice in the air. Damn and blast, her scent is everywhere if it can reach this floor.

Jaw grinding in my mouth, I realize I will have to go the long way around the castle to get to the woods. A servant’s stairway is at one end of the long hall, but it opens in the kitchen, and her smell will be stronger there. Luckily, her post comes to an end soon, and I’ll finally be rid of her. I just have to avoid the foul woman until she leaves.

I cover my nose as I make my way through the deathly quiet castle, cursing the chef to kingdom come.