Page 24 of Stolen Magic
I looked hot in the leather, damn it.
“Dimitri Bell.” The second I dropped the Alpha’s name, her entire disposition changed.
“Please take a seat and I will notify Mr. Bell that you are here, Miss …” With a pleasant smile, she waited patiently, while I had to blink a few times to assure myself I didn’t imagine the previous five minutes.
“McCullough, Alaska McCullough,” I mumbled and really wanted to slap myself for doing a tacky impersonation of James Bond. Char was getting inside my head with all her spy insanity.
The sorceress in question snorted softly from somewhere behind me.
“Take a seat right there, Miss McCullough.” Raising slightly off her chair, Pura pointed with an open palm at the couple of armchairs clustered a few feet in front of her desk. “I will personally take you to Mr. Bell’s office as soon as I announce your arrival.”
Dazed, I walked to where she sent me and dropped on one of the chairs. The leather pants protested loudly, but I ignored the squeaky sound. It was summer in LA, so the damn things were glued to my legs already anyway. As Char loved to remind me, there was no beauty without pain or discomfort. Subtly I glanced at my friend and nearly laughed when I saw her twirling her forefinger around her temple and pointing to Pura.
Crossing one leg over the other with another squeak, I angled my body so the older woman couldn’t see my face. “What on earth was that?” I whispered to Char.
My friend didn’t have a chance to answer because I heard the putter of hurried steps coming my way. The next moment, Pura loomed over me, smiling like I’d just saved her puppy from a certain death. It was creepy to see.
“I will take you to Mr. Bell now.” Her right arm swirled with flourish toward the silver doors of the elevators. I noticed she was wearing pants instead of a skirt as I suspected while the desk hid half of her body, and for some reason, I found that very suspicious. Pura seemed at that age when women, human or supernatural, preferred a skirt when wearing a suit over pants. The fact unsettled me more than it should’ve. Or maybe I was deflecting.
“Follow me.”
The elevator arrived a lot sooner than I wanted, and we shuffled inside the small, mirrored space. Char darted right after me before the doors closed in her face. As soon as the loud ping sounded, my stomach dipped when we lurched upward. Nose twitching, I tried hard not to sneeze while I sniffed subtly and caught a familiar scent. Try as I might, I couldn’t place it, but it nagged at me until we reached the floor and spilled out of the elevator.
An elegant desk with a leather chair, a landline phone, and a closed laptop was placed to the side of a double-sized black door. Instead of wood, the door was padded in a similar fashion to Char’s bedframe—the one she bought a year before. There was no secretary or assistant occupying the comfortable-looking chair. A tall fern hugged one corner, and an abstract statue decorated one side table next to a long corner lounge. Apart from the blue and gray rug and a few modern paintings, the place was almost empty of anything else. Tall floor-to-ceiling windows with a full view of downtown LA made up for it.
“He is expecting you.” Pura yanked me out of my perusal. My mouth opened so I could thank her, but she was already heading back inside the elevator, the door sliding shut behind her.
“I’ll be here,” Char whispered so softly I barely heard her. “You got this, Allie. Go tell him where to shove his threats. If you are not out in ten minutes, I’m coming in. Or just scream from the top of your lungs and I’ll bust that door open.”
I believed her.
The ancestors knew she had enough arsenal in that tote to bring the building, along with half of downtown, on top of our heads. With a firm bob of my head, I strode to the padded black door and gripped the golden door handle in a sweaty palm. Char offered a reassuring nod when I glanced one last time over my shoulder, and I stiffened my spine.
I pushed the door open and walked in.
Chapter Nineteen
“Miss McCullough, what a pleasant—” Dimitri’s dry tone cut off and he choked on air when I waltzed inside his office like I owned the place.
His silver blue gaze smoldered and roved over me from head to toe, but a number of things became obvious to me in that same moment. One, Char had really done magic with her makeover skills judging by the reaction from the Alpha. Two, I realized why the scent in the elevator was familiar. Angela was perched on a chair in front of Dimitri, the humongous oak desk the only thing separating them. Three, Pura did not announce my arrival to her boss. He was as shocked to see me standing in his office as his fiancé was.
The word left a bitter taste in my mouth.
My pulse thundered in my ears.
“I’m sorry,” I stuttered stupidly. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can wait.” My fingers twitched with the need to wrap around the hilts of my daggers for some reason. I resisted, but it was a close call. What I really wanted to know was, why Pura dumped me without telling Dimitri first, but I had more important things to worry about first.
Internally, I knew I should turn and leave, but the soles of my boots were glued to the Persian rug under my feet. Also, the shifter held me a prisoner with his intense stare, and all I could do was breathe and look back at him. The office around me faded into nothingness, leaving me with only the sound of my heartbeat mixed with the palpable hunger radiating from Dimitri as company.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us, darling?” Angela cleared her throat and glared daggers at Dimitri.
Everything snapped into focus again, and I took a step back.
“I will see you later this evening, Angela.” Rudely ignoring her request, he stepped around the desk and lifted her off the chair with a firm grip on her upper arm. “I have work to do.”
And people to kill, I wanted to add, but I didn’t.
What an ass.
