Kindling Flames: Flying Sparks (The Ancient Fire Series Book 2) (10 page)

“Um…” She started to protest as Darien pulled her into his lap to cradle her in his arms.

“Just relax,” he soothed, while pressing her head into his shoulder. Vicky folded her arms up over her chest and let Darien draw her closer. With one arm supporting her from behind and the other pulling her body against him, Darien held her as if she were a child. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek on her forehead as he released his control. His power flowed out into her.

Vicky had still been a little tense from the conversation in the elevator, but the warmth that seeped out of him caused her to relax completely in his arms. It swept across her and made her insides tingle. She rolled her head so her face was resting against his chest.

Darien made a contented noise.

Vicky didn’t know how long they sat folded together on the couch, but she knew it would soon be over when the warmth slowly withdrew from her. A hint of regret plucked at her heart as Darien raised his head from hers and looked down. She considered pretending she was asleep so she could stay wrapped in his arms but decided against it. Looking up into his green eyes, shimmering with the aftereffects of magic, she marveled at their beauty.

Darien released her so Vicky could sit up. He wasn’t sure if he could handle holding her like that any longer. She was still stirring emotions in him that he couldn’t put down, and he still needed to find that picture to see if his suspicions were correct.

“How do you feel now?” Darien asked.

Vicky blinked at him. Her mind was still a little fuzzy from the warmth he had poured into her. “Wonderful.” She stretched as if she’d just woken up from a long nap, fully rested.

“Great.” He stood up and offered her his hand. “How about a tour?”

“Sure.” Taking his hand, she stood up a little too quickly. Her head swam, and Darien caught her before she could fall into the glass table.

“Careful there,” he warned her. “I’d forgotten about that.” Darien wrapped his arm around Vicky’s waist to support her.

“About what?” she slurred, and then giggled at the sound.

“Too much magic can make you drunk,” he explained.

“Does that mean you’re intoxicating?” She giggled again, making Darien grin.

“I guess it does.” He moved Vicky away from the couches and towards the right wall. “But it shouldn’t last long. Let’s get you some water.”

Darien walked her over to the wooden panels and slid the entire wall open to reveal a beautiful, oak dining room set. He turned right, through a swinging door, into a white marble kitchen. Hitting the switch on the recessed lighting, he smiled as Vicky oohed and escorted her between the countertops of the shotgun kitchen and into the east-facing breakfast nook. Darien pulled out one of the iron scrollwork chairs and sat her down.

She shook her head, trying to clear the fluff from her brain.

Going back into the kitchen, Darien pulled a royal blue tumbler from the cabinet and filled it from a pitcher of water in the refrigerator. Bringing it back, he found Vicky bent over, resting her head on the cool, glass top of the wrought iron table. He set the cup next to her where she wouldn’t knock it over and chuckled.

Vicky rolled her head and looked up at the laughing man.

Darien sat down in the chair next to her to wait for her to recover. He didn’t think he had used that much power. Vicky must be very sensitive to magic.

***

After a few minutes of staring at Darien, Vicky finally sat up. Taking up the glass of water, she drank deeply before setting it back down on the table with a tap. She still felt a little funny, but the world was no longer wobbling back and forth.

With a clearer head, Vicky began to look around at the room. It had a very English feel to it. The wallpaper was done up in an ivy pattern, and a large picture of a garden hung on the wall next to the kitchen. The other wall contained a cabinet filled with teacups and plate sets. There was another large painting of some light purple flowers next to the cabinet. One corner was curved and held three windows treated with lace, café-style curtains that would let the morning sunshine in. Overall, it was light, airy, and very refreshing.

“You have a beautiful home,” Vicky said as she took another sip of water. The funny feeling was starting to go away.

“Thank you very much,” Darien answered. “But you haven’t seen it all. Are you feeling better?”

She nodded and drained the rest of the water from her glass.

Standing up, he offered her his hand again. “Then let me show you the rest.” She took it, and he pulled her to her feet. Taking her glass from the table, he set it by the sink as they passed back through the kitchen. All the modern necessities filled the kitchen, with plenty of room for several people to work comfortably together. They passed through the door to the dining room and back into the living room where they started.

“We’re on the fourteenth floor of the Touraine.” Darien held out his hand for Vicky to step over to the window and look down on the magnificent view of the city.

She looked out, wide-eyed, at the tiny people and cars fourteen stories below.

“Over there is the dining room and the kitchen.” He pointed to the right. “And over here is the family room.” Walking over, he slid the wooden pocket door back to reveal a room just as large as the dining room.

Vicky pulled herself away from the view to explore this new room. A pair of emerald green couches faced a large, flat-screen TV mounted to the wall over a wooden cabinet. Another large area rug stretched across the floor, complementing the couches and the long curtains covering the windows.

“I’ll teach you how to use the remotes later.” Darien tapped the wall next to the light switch so Vicky would see it as he led the way out of the room. He pointed out doors as he walked past them: a half bath, a bedroom, a coat closet, the elevators, stairs leading out if she wished to walk down the fourteen flights, and finally, another door to the kitchen.

Vicky tried to note everything as she went, but her mind was still a little befuddled. “But, if there is only one bedroom, where will I stay?” she said, thinking out loud. She really didn’t want to have to share a room with her boss.

Darien laughed. “Wherever you want.” He waved her up a flight of steps that Vicky had somehow missed.

“Oh.” She blushed as she led the way up the stairs.

“There are four more rooms up here,” Darien said when they stopped on the landing. The room was illuminated by the soft glow of recessed lights. “This way.” Holding out his hand, he guided her to the left. A door opened to reveal an office space. “This is the only room, other than the master bedroom, that’s occupied. It’s also the smallest.”

Vicky looked around. Decorated in dark red tones, the space felt warm and comforting. The tall shelves lining the walls were filled with books and random items. Some were dangerous looking and some were beautiful, but all looked rather old.

“You’re welcome in here at any time, but be forewarned—some of the things on the shelves don’t like to be touched.”

Vicky balled her hands up and slid them behind her back so she wouldn’t be tempted by anything.

“If you have any questions about anything in here, feel free to ask.”

She nodded. This room intrigued her, but did she really want to know what types of things “don’t like to be touched”?

“So, which room do I get?” Vicky asked.

Darien chuckled as they headed back out into the hallway.

“There’s the one bedroom on the main floor and two up here available.” He shut the door and led her back out past the stairs and to the right. “You can have any one you want, but I would suggest this one.” He led her around the end of the steps and down a short hall.

Stepping into this room felt like stepping into a forest glade. The pale, variegated green of the walls gave off the feeling of sun-dappled leaves. The large, four-poster bed was the same honey-brown hue of the floor. The greens and golds of a large rug were mirrored in the flowing material draped over the three windows on the far wall. The linens on the bedding were a little darker, but they looked as if they were speckled with bits of sunlight. There was another one of those slipcovered sofas in a pale green. Vicky’s attention was captured by the looking glass over the dresser. The wooden frame was carved into trees. The leaves and bowers entwined at the top, and the roots interwove at the bottom.

Vicky gasped as she stepped towards the carving. “Beautiful.”

“I had to have the mirror reworked.” Darien moved so they were both reflected in the surface. “But, the frame is nearly two hundred years old.”

Vicky stared openmouthed at the masterpiece that should have been hanging in a museum.

Darien gave her a moment to deal with her shock before speaking again. “So, do you like the room?”

It took Vicky another second to recover so she could answer. “I love it,” she said, breathily, as she spun to face him.

“Good.” He smiled. “It’s yours for as long as you’d like.” Darien pointed to the two doors in the entryway. “Your bathroom is there, across from the closet. Come on. I’ll show you the rest of the rooms.”

She followed him out. They turned left past the stairs and Darien’s office. Another door opened to a short hall and another bedroom.

This had to be the room Darien gave to people he didn’t like. The walls were a brilliant shade of yellow and had the same east-facing windows as the breakfast nook. This room would be pure hell in the mornings.

Darien opened the other door in this hall to show off the laundry room and electrical room before leading her through another door concealing a set of steps.

She followed him up to a roof terrace filled with patio furniture. There were still heavy clouds threatening rain, but Vicky pulled the socks off her feet and stepped out onto the damp terrace to look at the view from the top of the building. She gasped. “This is
magnificent
.”

“This is one of the common areas of the building. There’s also a library, a wine cellar, and a fitness center,” Darien explained as the sky started to drip again. He pushed the button on the elevator to take them back down to his penthouse. “Each of the floors has its own code.”

Vicky watched as he punched in the code for their floor, and the elevator took them down two floors to his foyer.

“If you need anything, just let me know.”

Vicky’s head spun at the magnitude of it all. She knew that Darien was rich, but all of this was insane for just one person. “This is amazing.” Turning, she looked at her host. “Can I really stay here?” She couldn’t quite believe it.

“For as long as you like,” Darien said and headed back into the living room to gather up her bags. “You’ll need to get some new clothing.”

Vicky followed as he carried her things up and dropped them on her new couch.

“I have some clothes that might fit you, but they haven’t been used in a while.” He went back out and to the one door they hadn’t gone into.

Vicky stopped as Darien pushed the door open and turned left. The decoration on the wall surprised her. She stared at the Celtic cross framed in the doorway leading to his bedroom.

“Everything okay?” Darien popped his head back out to see why Vicky had stopped.

Vicky pointed at the carving on the wall. “I thought vampires couldn’t stand the sight of holy objects, or is that a myth, too?”

He looked up at the wooden object as a sad smile slipped across his face. “It depends on the holy item,” Darien explained as he went back to his search.

Following him, Vicky stepped into the large, walk-in closet.

“The stronger the person’s faith, the more power a holy item has. That cross will keep most vampires from my chambers, but it means a lot more to me than a holy item.” He paused a moment before going on. “It’s the last remaining relic from my childhood.”

Vicky could hear the sadness in his words.

Darien fell silent as he rummaged in the closet. “I told you I was born in Glendalough, County Wicklow, in Ireland?”

“Yes.”

“Glendalough was based around a large monastery.” Darien’s voice softened, and the Irish tones returned as he spoke. “I grew up in that monastery.”

Vicky watched him silently as he shuffled stuff around. He seemed distant, and she didn’t want to disturb him and risk not hearing the story of the cross.

“That cross hung in the main chamber of the monastery. In 1398
,
the English burned Glendalough. I was away in France at the time, but I came back as soon as I heard.” Darien paused as he remembered the old, painful memory.

Vicky held her breath as she listened.

“They staked my sire out in the sun and burned his flock. Only a handful escaped.” He delved deeper into the closet. “One of the survivors saved that cross and passed it down through his family. When the plague hit London, killing the last of his line, I claimed it.” He sat back and looked around, disappointed that he hadn’t found what he was looking for. “It’s had a few close calls, but it’s amazing what a little fay magic can do.”

“Fay?” Vicky finally found her voice. Darien’s story was amazing, but fairies were a little too much.

“You’ll meet them sooner or later.”