Bound by Blood (The Garner Witch Series) (37 page)

My new life was just beginning. I had a lot to discover in this exhilarating new world of witchcraft and vampires.

A Sneak Peek into a brand new novella by P.A. Lupton…

Old Souls

Chapter 1

- First Impressions -

My anxiousness spiked as I entered the boardroom. The lights had been dimmed to accommodate the projector that sat on the long wooden table, and a pull down screen hung adjacent the end. Twenty seats surrounded the table, most already filled with coworkers. Some I recognized, some I didn’t.  No matter how I tried, I was unable to shake this odd feeling that had overwhelmed me all morning. A foreboding sense that something significant was about to happen. No wonder my nerves were stretched tight.

Why was I so edgy? I was new to the job, yes, but I’d been here two weeks and was growing more comfortable every day. As one of the youngest, most sought after graphic artists in the advertising business, I had confidence in my abilities.  And landing the position of art director at Young and Rubicam, one of Toronto’s largest firms, was a dream come true.  Today, Mark Young—
the
Mark Young of Young and Rubicam—was attending. I’d been working on a project for one of the firm’s largest clients, and Mark Young always made final approval on important accounts. I’d yet to meet him, which is probably why I was so jumpy and tense.

“You all right? You look like you’re gonna puke.” Although he sounded concerned, I noted a trace of humor in the familiar voice. Colin was my manager, and also the one who recommended me for this position. Not only was he my biggest fan, but he was also my best friend. He was my TA in university and it hadn’t taken long for us to become friends, especially with the easy rapport we shared.

I flashed him a tentative smile. “Um, I’m fine. Just haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

“Don’t be nervous, your designs are brilliant. Everyone’ll love them.”

“You’re biased.”

“Of course I am, but that doesn’t mean you’re
not
brilliant,” he smiled. “You, girl, have an amazing talent. I wouldn’t bullshit you.”

“Thanks.” I sighed. “I know it’s pathetic, but I needed the pep talk. This is my first big presentation and I think I’m just nervous it’s happening in front of the big boss. What if he hates my ideas?”

“No worries, he’ll love your work.” He winked as he pulled out a chair for me. “Besides, I’ve got your back.”

Slanting a grateful smile, I watched as he took the seat beside me. And despite Colin’s uncanny ability to lighten my mood, I just couldn’t shake my growing tension. Probably sleep deprivation. Really, I wasn’t lying, I hadn’t been sleeping lately. In fact, strange dreams had plagued me since the day I started my new job.

Despite the timing, my dreams had absolutely nothing to do with work. They were more…
personal
in nature. They were good, amazing even, but lately some of the dreams had become …unsettling. And by unsettling I mean down right terrifying. Still, I’d overlook ten times the amount of nightmares in order to experience the good ones. Heat spread across my face as the memory of the one I’d had last night replayed itself in my mind.

A smile tilted my mouth as I recalled the man who played a starring role in my dreams. Stunning was far too tame a word to describe him. Seriously, even I had to give myself props for my imagination. Profound talent was required to conjure that man—I would never again doubt my artistic skill.

High cheekbones and full lips softened the strong, masculine lines of his face, but the sharp angle of his jaw gave him a rugged look. The combination of hard and soft balanced his features, making the overall effect utterly irresistible. He had shoulder length brunette hair, and a strong dark brow. Ridiculously long, black eyelashes framed the most intense crystal blue eyes I’d ever seen. His clothes were strange, though. He wore a black, cropped riding coat with dark grey breeches tucked into leather boots. He was dressed like one of the heroes on the cover of the novels I read. His clothing told me I needed to lay off the historical romances I loved so much, but proof of that fact was unarguable when
my
hero spoke. 

“Je vis d'amour et d'eau douce.” the words, whispered as he leaned in to kiss me, echoed through my mind daily
.
It wasn’t just the husky, sensual tone of his voice that had me replaying the words over and over. It was their meaning that pulled at my heart.

It was the strangest thing. I’d never spoken a word of French in my life, and yet in my dreams I had entire conversations with him in the language. Well, when we were having conversations, that is. But when I woke up, I could remember the words he’d spoken but I no longer understood their meaning. I had to Google it. ‘Je vis d'amour et d'eau douce’ translated: I live on love and water. My dream man was a romantic.

Romantic words and gorgeous looks aside, what had me dwelling on the dreams was how real they felt. Less like vague impressions and more like memories—almost as if it had really happened.  So realistic, I still felt the tingle in my lips as I was overtaken with flashbacks of his mouth claiming mine, possessing me while his tongue pushed past my lips and explored my mouth. Leisurely, the man kissed like he had nowhere else he wanted to be. Like nothing in the world existed except the two of us. Slow and teasing. And how pathetic was it that the best kiss I’d ever had (and I mean
ever
), happened in my sleep? Every time I dreamt of him, it ended up in the same place. My sex life had never been so good. I might’ve been asleep while it happened, but in my books it still counted, especially since I was reaping all the physical side effects. I’d never had so many orgasms while I was awake. How sad was that? I’d wake up with my heart hammering in my chest and panting for breath like I’d run a marathon. Even now, the memory alone had my body pulsating.

“
I’d kill to know what you’re thinking right now.” Colin’s voice broke through my daydream. It was like being doused with cold water. I was shockingly, and without warning thrust back to reality.

That’s right, important meeting. Focus on work, Alyssa.

“Nothing,” I lied. “Just my designs.”

“Your designs are fantastic, but not good enough to justify that smile. Not to mention the fact that you’re breathing funny and you’re all flushed.” He snorted. “It’s a man.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I denied.

“Oh yeah, it’s a man alright.”

“I didn’t admit anything.”

“You didn’t have to.” He leaned in eagerly awaiting the juicy details. Unable to resist, he was like a woman when it came to gossip. “Who is he? Anyone I know?”

Refusing to answer, I opened the folders in front of me and pretended to be busy. He watched me avoid his gaze with amusement.  “Come on, spill.”

Man, he was relentless. Like a dog with a bone. Smirking, I arched my brow and remained silent. He returned my stare, patiently—better at
this battle of wills than I was. His deep set, brown eyes bored into mine, a master at finagling confessions from me.

“Let’s get started.” One of the executives from marketing announced. “Mr. Young is running late, but he’ll be along shortly.”

I was glad for the interruption since I wouldn’t have held out under Colin’s scrutiny much longer. And I didn’t want the humiliation of admitting I was fantasizing about imaginary men now. How had my love life had become that tragic?

***

Part way through the meeting my heart unexpectedly took off in an erratic gallop. My breathing sped and a warm tingle spread over my body. At first it felt like the response came out of the blue, but I was actually having some kind of reaction to a strange vibrating hum that had spontaneously taken root in my veins. The foreign sensation was unfamiliar, but not at all unpleasant. Something weird was happening, and whatever it was, it felt like the source of the current was getting closer.

“You all right?” Colin leaned over and whispered.

“Fine.” I snapped back, trying to act like I was paying attention to the presentation at the front of the room, like I couldn’t feel… something—I wasn’t sure what—getting closer.

I tried to control my pulse and slow down my breathing. The more I thought about it the more I realized this wasn’t a new sensation.
I’d definitely felt it before, mind you on a much smaller scale. It had started the day I interviewed for this job, but never as strong as it was now. What I’d felt then compared to what I felt now was like trying to compare static electricity to a bolt of lightning. Both were energy, but there was a vast difference in intensity. Right now, the buzz was lightning.

What was once a whisper, a vague hint of something to come, was now a roaring hum through my veins that screamed so loudly I barely heard anything beyond the rush of blood in my veins. Whatever approached outside that door would change my life forever. This was it. This was what I’d felt looming. I don’t know how I knew it so certainly, but I did. Deep inside, something that had been buried had just come alive.

The suddenness of the attack was so terrifying, so powerful and unexpected I’d almost given in to panic. Before I had a chance to freak out though, the door to the board room opened and all
other thoughts and concerns evaporated when I saw the man towering in the doorway. The world screeched to a jarring halt when he stepped into the room.  Frozen in place, I was completely unable to move or speak, drawn in by piercing blue eyes. Eyes that made the gravitational pull of the earth feel weak in comparison. I couldn’t have looked away if my life depended on it.  The man standing in front of me was the man of my dreams, and I didn’t mean that figuratively. He had shorter hair, and he was dressed in a designer business suit, but it was him, the man I’d been dreaming about the past two weeks.

The man running our meeting stood quickly, practically tripping over himself when he saw the man in the door. “Mr. Young, we were just about to—”

“Everyone out,” the man—Mr. Young, apparently— bit out tersely, offering no explanation. His eyes never left mine as he ordered. “
You
, stay.”

God, my dreams didn’t do his voice justice at all. There was a dark, seductive tone to it that made me want to strip my clothes off where I stood. Wait, what was I thinking? I was in the middle of a meeting. I shook myself back to reality and it finally hit me what he’d just said. Was he talking to me? He wanted me to stay? Shocked, my eyes widened and I looked to my left then my right. Surely he was talking to someone else. Hesitantly, I asked, “me?”

“Yes, you.”

What the hell? I was taken aback by his gruff tone. Where was that soft romantic tenor from my dreams?  His voice was slightly accented, but other than that he was completely different. Abrasive. And why was he glaring at me like he was angry? I’d never met the man—at least not in person anyway.

Colin leaned over to whisper. “Shit Lyss. What’s this about?”

“No idea.”

“Why is he—”The rest of Colin’s question died midsentence when he suddenly noticed Mr. Young’s eyes had narrowed and his attention was focused solely on him. And he was pissed.

“I… Said… Leave.”

Colin visibly swallowed before he stood, grabbed his folders and turned to leave without another word.
So much for having my back,
I thought caustically. My stomach took a dive as my best friend left me alone with the angry man. Feeling like a recalcitrant child about to be reprimanded by my parents, my stomach turned with unease. What did
I
do?

Curious glances from my fleeing coworkers flashed between me and the six foot four, fiercely intimidating man dominating the room. Heat rose in my cheeks. How humiliating. What must these people think?

“Close the door on your way out.” He clipped as the last person passed him, his eyes never straying from mine. I heard the soft snick of the door closing.

And then we were alone.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air. His expression softened slightly, but he still looked menacing. When our eyes connected and his clear blue gaze bored into mine, I recognized a spark of something almost familiar. God, I could drown in his eyes, like I might sink so deep I’d never come up for air. But that was the romantic remnants of my dream man spilling over. This man was
not
him. Was he? I mean, he looked
exactly
like him. Right down to an almost imperceptible scar above his right eyebrow. How was it possible?

With a militant stance, his unreadable eyes examined me from head to toe. His emotions remained locked tight. I had no idea what he was thinking or why he was scrutinizing me so closely, it was damned uncomfortable.

This was a completely new experience for me. I could piss people off, don’t get me wrong, but this was the first time I’d managed to accomplish it with a perfect stranger. Normally, I got along well with others. I’d been told I was friendly and outgoing, and I had plenty of friends to back that theory. So what could I have done to make him angry? Regardless, whatever his problem was he should have handled it better than this—after all, he was supposed to be a professional. This behavior was most certainly
not
professional. My intimidation was quickly replaced by indignation.

I was getting pissed.

Instead of sitting meekly, I crossed my arms and raised my chin, the gesture meant to challenge. My blood boiled thinking about how he’d just embarrassed me.

Sometimes, when I was overcome with anger my words bypassed my brain’s self-preservation filter, pouring out of my mouth before I could stop them. Most often, I’d regret what I said later. Now was no exception.

“Who… The 
Fuck
… Do you think you are?”

The moment I spoke the words I had to refrain from smacking a hand over my mouth. Oh my god. Did I just curse at my new boss? Out loud?  Shit. I had no idea what idiocy had taken over my brain, but I was not the kind of person who swore at her boss the first time I met him. Hell, I wasn’t the type of person to show such blatant disrespect for my boss ever. What a wonderful first impression, I’d be lucky if he didn’t fire me on the spot. Double shit.