Page 10 of Immortal Burden

Tossing my phone down on my desk, I employed my vampiric speed to cross the vast distance of my mammoth office space within the blink of an eye.

Hauling open my door, I found my Head of Security looking rather out of sorts.

He had his hand slapped to the doorframe, the position pulling his black leather jacket taut across his muscular chest and causing his gray tee to pull from his tactical pants and ride up a little.

I peered down at him, our foot and a half height difference seeing to it. Despite his short stature, he was basically a ball of hard muscle and one of the most accomplished combatants I’d ever known in all my centuries of life. And he was loyal, he’d been with me for many years now and he’d never once failed me.

“Anton?” I queried.

“My apologies, Luc,” he said, shoving a hand through his blond buzz cut in clear aggravation. “Mr. Morgan was insistent. Given the impact he is posing to the inhibitor, I determined the situation to be beyond my capabilities.”

I nodded and lifted my chin.

Anton crooked his finger, his gruff voice booming down the private upper floor hallway, “He will see you.”

As Anton left, I heard harsh cursing, then an irritated muttering from our impromptu guest, “I should fucking well hope so.”

I turned on my heel, listening to him enter. “Close the door,” I ordered.

I sensed his hesitation, before he complied. Hmm.

“Are you gonna look me in the eye, Lucian, or am I gonna get the back of your head all night long?”

I grinned. “All night long? That is rather presumptuous, sorcerer.”

He cursed under his breath, clearly forgetting that my heightened supernatural hearing enabled me to make out every word perfectly.

With a burst of speed, I fisted my hand in his rumpled shirt and tossed him onto my leather couch.

His gasp of surprise caught in his throat as I stood looming over him in the next second.

To his credit, it didn’t take him long to recover.

Righting himself and leaning forward, he glared up at me fiercely, seething, “Get. Out. Of. My. Face.”

“You do realize that magic is void here?”

His eyes narrowed and he continued to seethe at me.

I could sense his trepidation, his very real anxiety for his current predicament. From the change in his heartrate, it was clear he was greatly concerned that he couldn’t call on his magical ability all the while he remained in my club. Yet, his posturing was so very close to being convincing. If I did not possess such finely attuned senses, I questioned whether even I would have been able to see through it.

Eyes that threatened to pierce right into the soul of a person, a shade of the finest emerald in existence, served to captivate me for several bewitching moments. His hair, a deep chestnut-brown, although currently in disarray, worked for him, an overgrown crew cut missing much-needed product.

He scraped the back of his hand over his unruly facial hair, the thick stubble lining his jaw abrading his soft skin like the roughness of sandpaper.

As my gaze traveled down the length of his appetizingly compact, muscular form, I savored the sight of the protrusion of those two metal hoops beneath his thin, silk shirt. I’d desired to know for years now as to whether he had other choice parts of his alluring body pierced.

Our eyes locked just as I’d taken my fill of what he had to offer within the tight confines of those leather pants.

“A drink, yes?” The stench of alcohol was such that it almost drowned out the scent of his expensive cologne and his natural, woodsy aroma. “Something to sober you up, while also providing a calming effect.” Both, he undoubtedly needed in spades. “An elixir, if you will.”

“A drink, huh? Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” he shot back, his hostility blatantly unrestrained.

What was happening?

We’d never had this sort of negative interaction before.

Leaning in closer, I dropped my voice to a low rumble, wanting it to resonate deeply with him. “You would have to earn my bite, sorcerer.” I grasped his jaw firmly. “Emphatic pleas would spill from these delicious lips, you would tremble with a desperate need to feel the sensation of my fangs sinking into your soft flesh, to sate your desire to be wholly devoured.”

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