Page 13 of Across Shadowed Paths

The chalky sound of his own teeth grating echoed in his ears. With Nina down for the count, he’d be forced to shoulder the burden of Blair’s recklessness, even when he’d been adamantly opposed to the operation. The list of his responsibilities continued to add up, and now, he’d been stretched even thinner.

Gently, he twisted a psychic tether around Blair’s bond with Nina, both hating and loving the way it tasted of her wildness. To get close to her—even on the psychic plane—was courting disaster.

Chapter Four

Thewildwantedtoburst out of her.

Attired in a slim black pencil skirt and shiny red blouse, Blair felt trapped atop her towering stilettos. Toni, Drake’s elemental wife, had been positively enthralled in Blair’s new façade—even if it was only for the present moment.

After getting an eyeful of her new persona, Drake had howled with laughter. Then, her annoying brother had proceeded to literally count the seconds until she bared her fangs and called off the entire charade.

Spoiler: she hadn’t.

Much as she despised the couture trappings of civilization, she wouldn’t renege on her promise. Blair sought vengeance far more deeply than anyone realized. She strolled through the bustling crowds of New York City’s sidewalks, working to transform the lethal sharpness of her gaze into the mild-mannered look of an office worker.

More than one man had taken the liberty of leisurely sliding their gazes up and down her body with lust-filled eyes. While she’d have typically taken it as an invitation to sample their blood, Blair refrained. She had far more important things on her to do list.

Today, her path would set right the wrongs of the past.

Arriving at her destination, she filled her lungs with what little freshness she could wrestle from the August air and gazed upward at the towering skyscraper. Blair entered through the lobby without a backwards glance.

Playing this part was simply an obstacle to the real end: eliminating Torrin from the picture.

Getting the job had been easy enough. The hiring agent had taken one look at her resume and literally jumped at the chance for an interview, and Blair had let her charisma do the rest. Fortunately, Torrin hadn’t thought to install a member of theCitizens’in Human Resources—the director’s malleable mind responded easily to suggestion, and she’d been able to dictate her start date from there.

With Torrin, however, suggestion wasn’t an option. As one of the few humans naturally immune to the vampiric charm, Blair would have to find a way under his defenses using ulterior means. And unlike some, she wasn’t afraid of using her femininity as her advantage.

Stilettos and shadowy eyeliner might just do the trick. Blair’s talents for swaying human males were close to legendary status. Eight centuries of experience, with and without suggestion, would grease the wheels, but Torrin would have to be initially susceptible to her charms if she were ever to get under his skin—or into his head.

Blair would have no way of knowing who was a member of theCitizensand who wasn’t, so her use of suggestion would be impossible within the confines of the office.

Chiming once, the elevator opened to reveal a lobby space that sported an ultra-modern reception area and a handful of elegant guest chairs. The lively newsroom floor lay beyond a pair of glass doors, a short distance behind the reception area.

Heels clicking against the marble flooring, Blair offered the busty receptionist a polite nod. “I’m Blair Uhura. Today is my first day.”

Uhura. Blair inwardly grinned at her tribute to the unsinkable Star Trek heroine.

“Welcome to the team.” A compulsory smile lined the receptionist’s lips while she made a not-so-subtle appraisal of the fresh meat. “I can show you to your desk. Timothy will be with you shortly.”

Following the human along the outside of the newsroom floor, Blair instinctively studied the exit routes. Her attention speared through the assembled crowd of journalists who were busying about their work, cataloguing any who looked out of place. A few took notice as they passed, but most were furiously typing on their keyboards, blissfully unaware of the revolving world around them. Ahead, she spotted a row of C-Suite offices, her gaze inadvertently focusing.

Torrin Scayde. Editor-In-Chief.

She banished all emotion from her face. When the woman ahead of her took a sharp left, Blair dutifully trailed behind, but her eyes lingered on the empty office that boasted a stunning view of the New York skyline.

“Make yourself comfortable. Coffee is in the breakroom and the ladies’ rooms are out by my desk.” The woman’s hospitality was cut short by her tone.

With a twirl on her heels, the icy receptionist turned and left Blair in solitude, the heavy scent of her perfume mugging up the air.

Releasing a husky laugh, Blair took a seat at the desk and dropped her borrowed purse on the desktop. Everything Blair needed typically fit in her back pocket, and everything else was just one suggestion away.

By lunchtime, Blair had suffered through innumerable introductions, a Human Relations diatribe that left her positively spellbound—not—and a brief tour of the facilities. Blair had aways been a quick learner, and she’d never stopped learning technology. When it suited her, she enjoyed the creativity of graphic design, and she’d always had a naturally artistic flair.

If she didn’t actively loathe Torrin, this job might’ve genuinely caught her interest for a couple of months.

Though Blair didn’t have the same sleep needs as a young vampire, by noon the pull of supernatural sleep had started wearing on her. Vampires slept when the sun rose into the sky, but could resist that pull the longer they lived. At nearly eight hundred years old, she was able to remain awake throughout the duration of the daylight hours should she choose to do so. She could go days without sleep if it was called for.

That didn’t mean she particularly wanted to.

---