Ruling Fire (Bad Boys Of The Underworld Book 4) (2 page)

CHAPTER TWO

Elsie was frantically trying to reconcile the latest open invoice file when Brock stopped in front of her office. He didn’t knock, but he didn’t need to. She always knew when he was close.

He stood just outside her closed door. She could see him through the large window that let her look out into the small group of eight cubicles that was bordered by window offices. She normally left her door open, but if she wanted to leave at three to make it to the gym before her mother and sister arrived, she had to haul ass with her reconciliations.

Elsie motioned for Brock to come in as she quickly cleared off some space for him. She always made sure her desk was neat and orderly when she left for the night, but during the day, papers seemed to scatter across all the free space in her office.

Brock entered the small office, and Elsie tried to ignore the heat in the room that she was just now noticing. She fidgeted with the loose hairs around her neck as she fought to keep her suit jacket on. “I am heading out for a late lunch with Jackson. You’re welcome to join us. I didn’t see you eating with the girls earlier.”

The girls were the five other women who worked in the accounting offices of Holt Automated. They had lunch together every day, and every day they neglected to invite Elsie. She’d long since gotten over the idea of the women in the office not liking her, but she didn’t want her boss to know.

“I have to leave early, so I brought my lunch with me today.” Half true. She did bring her lunch with her, but she brought a bag lunch every day. Besides that, she would rather go hungry than listen to Jackson kiss ass to Brock all through lunch.

Brock must have had the same thought because he muttered, “This lunch would be a lot better with you as a buffer.”

She shot him a sympathetic smile. “If you’re going to have lunch with someone who grates on you, it might as well be someone who worships the ground you walk on.”

“He doesn’t worship it. He’s jealous of it.”

Elsie couldn’t refute his logic. Jackson really was jealous of everything Brock had, even though Jackson didn’t have even half of Brock’s work ethic. Though she’d known Jackson was jealous of his uncle, she never realized that Brock was aware. It was the second time in one day when too much personal information seemed to pass between them.

The afternoon sun shone through the windows and highlighted Brock’s strong features. He looked like the stereotypical jock but in a business suit. He had a broad forehead and well-defined cheekbones. His strong nose and jaw gave hint to the strength that hid beneath his freshly pressed suit, but Elsie had never seen him in casual clothes. She could only guess what he would look like without all the professional layers on. She knew he was strong, but would his stomach be as sculpted as his face? Were his jackets cut too loose around the arms or were his biceps so big that he needed the extra room?

Elsie shook her head to clear the wildly inappropriate thoughts. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day here. I’ll be heading out in about half an hour, so I won’t see you when you get back.”

Instead of taking the hint and leaving, Brock asked, “Why do you need to leave at three thirty for dinner plans?”

Why is it any of your business?
Her more tactful response was, “I’m a bit of a gym rat. I wanted to make sure I got in a workout before I meet my mother.”

Brock visibly shuddered. “I can’t stand the gym. Even thinking about it creeps me out. All those people, just running in place.”

Elsie dropped her pen in exasperation. “You’re kidding me. How can someone who looks like you honestly say he hates the gym?” Immediately, she regretted the words. Any hopes for Brock missing her comment about his fit physique were dashed at his wide grin. Quickly she added, “Anyways, I like the gym because I can control my workout. I can monitor my heartbeat, speed, and difficulty and adjust any variable I want.” Refusing to meet his eyes, she stared intently at her hands resting on top of her desk.

“I look like I do because I run outside. Nothing beats a Saturday where it’s just me and the Connecticut forests.”

The sudden image of him running through the forest in workout shorts, tennis shoes, and nothing else snuck into her mind. The blush that covered her neck and cheeks was probably bright enough to light up her entire office. Unable to think of anything to say that would salvage the situation, she stammered, “Um, have a nice lunch, Brock.”

Still grinning, he backed out of her office. “I’m sure I will.”

As soon as she could no longer hear his footsteps making their way to Jackson’s office, her forehead fell against the hard desk. “Come on!” she said to herself.

This was not the day to be making moon eyes at her boss or stupid slips of the tongue. Tomorrow, she was accusing his nephew of embezzlement; tonight, she was going to sneak into the security office to prove it was Jackson.

On top of that, after the break-in, she would have to face her mother and once again explain that she was never getting married and hadn’t even gone on one date since they had seen each other three months ago.

It shouldn’t be a surprise. Rebecca Entin was reminded every time she saw Elsie that her daughter never planned to marry. Even so, she made a big stink about it. To make matters worse, Etta was probably engaged by now.

Elsie’s sister had never shared her belief that to truly be independent, she had to stay as far away from romantic entanglements as possible. Etta had been wiggling her way up the ranks of men for the better part of her short twenty-two years.

Once Rebecca married Roman Entin, a member of the vampire high council, she’d had high hopes for her daughters’ marriage prospects. After Etta spent the last eight years working her way up the vampire political structure, she finally found a single male in the high council who let her sink her claws into him. Elsie had been expecting an engagement announcement any day now.

Now that her youngest daughter was getting married, Rebecca would focus all her energy on Elsie. Attention Elsie didn’t want.

She understood her mother’s concern. Unless Elsie found an immortal mate to latch onto, she would live a normal mortal lifespan. Such was the life’s ambition of a siren: find an immortal lover by any means necessary to siphon off their life source, thereby extending the siren’s own life.

Not exactly what feminist dreams were made of.

Elsie lifted her head from the desk and flicked off the computer monitor. This allowed her to subtly glance at her reflection without taking out her pocket mirror. She carefully made sure her hair was in place before she turned the glowing screen back on.

Feminist or not, there was no harm in looking good.

~~~~~

At this point, Brock didn’t care whether Jackson was stealing. He was close to firing him just so he wouldn’t have to hear him whine any more. Kayla, Jackson’s mother and Brock’s sister, would never let him hear the end of it, but she had to have some idea of how annoying he was.

Even though this was only supposed to be a simple lunch, Jackson had dragged out the meal well over two hours. Because it was already a late lunch, Brock didn’t get back to the plant until well after five. After a few hours of productive work, he was the last one left in the building. The receptionist offered to stay with him, but he assured her that he would be fine.

Notably, Jackson had not offered to stay. He went home as soon as they got back from their lunch. Elsie had already been gone, but at least she told him in advance about her schedule for the day.

He remembered her blush and couldn’t hold back his predatory smile. In two years, she had never shown the slightest bit of interest in him, but in just two short conversations, he managed to crack her shell. She liked his body. She was embarrassed that she did, but her blush told him everything he needed to know.

Not that he could do anything with the information. She was too good at her job to risk losing her. His grandmother would never accept a mortal for his mate, so he could promise her nothing more than a good time. Still, it was nice to know he wasn’t alone in this little crush.

With thoughts of Elsie Handeland’s tight skirt wrapped around her toned ass, he powered down his laptop. He gathered all his papers and cords into his work bag and made his way through the darkened offices to the parking lot.

Lights shone in the lot, but shadows covered most of the old concrete. He made a mental note to look into repaving the crumbling cement. At the edge of the lot, in the darkest shadows, there was a small Ford. He had expected to only see his black BMW, but apparently he wasn’t alone in the plant.

Brock looked over his shoulder to the plant but didn’t see any obvious signs of criminal activity. He wasn’t familiar enough with the employees to recognize any cars besides Jackson’s Mustang convertible. The small Ford might have been there for days and he would have no way of knowing.

A cool spring breeze swept in from the east and he was suddenly engulfed by the smell of rotting flesh. He dropped his bag and swung around, using all his senses to locate the source.

Nothing worked. He didn’t hear anyone, and the smell seemed to be coming from all around him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as his dagger-sharp claws protruded from his fingertips. He didn’t move a muscle as he focused on locating the threat. It made him an easy target to hit as the creature flew out of the darkness to tackle him to the cold concrete.

~~~~~

It wasn’t the first time Elsie had been alone in the plant before, but it was the first time she didn’t want anyone to know she was there. When she pulled into the lot fifteen minutes earlier, she was given pause when Brock’s BMW was still in the lot, but she decided to go forward with her plan. Brock would hear all her theories in the morning anyway, so if he walked in on her, it wouldn’t be too detrimental.

Part of her wanted to dress for the secret mission she was going on, but considering she was on a timeline and had to be home by nine to greet her mother, she settled on wearing a peach sundress and nude pumps with four-inch heels. Not something she would ever wear to work, but her mother would expect her to look her best.

After the gym, her afternoon had been jam-packed with cleaning, cooking, showering, and a good hour spent making sure every curl was in place on her long blonde hair. While she drove back to the plant, she had to carefully move the tresses to the front of her shoulders to make sure she didn’t flatten the curls against her seat.

She had just finished applying topcoat to her nails, which now perfectly matched her dress. It was a pain to buckle up and drive without brushing them up against anything, but they had dried by the time she parked in the mostly empty lot.

Now she sat in the security office of the plant, reviewing old security tapes. She was able to ascertain that the fake vendor was set up from Tara’s computer at eleven p.m. on April twenty-first. It was highly unlikely that the accounts payable clerk was working that late to input another vendor, but Elsie needed more than “unlikely” to accuse the plant manager of embezzlement. If she could show Brock the video of Jackson in the plant that night around that time, she would have her evidence.

Getting the video was easier said than done. The security office was inside the plant, but right next to Jackson’s office. She couldn’t go during office hours or he would know she was onto him.

So here she was, sneaking into the plant after hours. As expected, it didn’t take too long to find the incriminating footage. Because she knew exactly the date and time, she only had to review two tapes until she found what she needed. Sure enough, Jackson was hanging around Tara’s computer that night.

As she loaded the video onto the USB drive she brought with her, a loud bang echoed through the plant, and the walls shook around her. Instinctively, Elsie dropped to the ground and covered her head, expecting the building to cave or windows around the security office that looked out onto the plant to shatter all around her.

After ten long seconds of crouching in the corner, more sounds emerged from the plant floor. Sounds of a fight.

Elsie cautiously crawled over to the windows, careful not to make a sound. She raised her head up until her eyes could look out the window, and her heart sank. A man and some sort of monster were engaged in the most brutal confrontation Elsie had ever seen. She might have been raised around vampires, but the brutality of supernatural creatures had always been carefully hidden during the parties and family gatherings she’d been to.

This was brutal, and she knew one of the fighters wouldn’t survive. She couldn’t see the man’s face with how fast they were moving and how far away she was.

Even with those restrictions, it was obvious that the other fighter was not human. He wore no clothes, and his skin was a blackish-gray coloring over a muscled body. Long ears stood out from his head, and nappy hair stretched down his spine.

As the monster swiped a clawed hand at the man, he was just able to duck as he landed his own blow to the monster’s throat. Elsie squinted as she tried to see better. Blood covered one side of the man’s face, but his white shirt and black suit jacket were visible.

Realization filled her. “Brock,” she whispered in despair. He was being murdered in front of her and there was nothing she could do. She tried to focus on the monster. Maybe if she could identify him, she could kill him.