Page 67 of Vampire Soldier
I blush, shooting a grateful look at Perry. Nervously, I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Thank you. I’ve really enjoyed working here.”
She doesn’t respond right away—just pokes Malachi in the stomach again. I try to ignore the sharp stab of jealousy. Clearly, they’re close.
“Are you going to introduce us properly, Mal?” she asks.
Malachi huffs at the shortening of his name, though the fondness in his expression doesn’t escape me. He swats her hand away before it can jab him again.
“Blake, this is Eloise, an absolute menace.” There’s affection in his tone despite the words. He gestures to the other vampire. “And that’s Kasar. Like she guessed, this is Blake—the stage producer.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say with a polite nod.
“I might be a menace, but he still loves me,” Eloise adds with a grin, before she looks back to where Malachi looms over her. “I’m actually here for work, though. The reviews are starting to come in from last night, I’ve got new material to get your approval before we start using them. Did you have a chance to read Deidre’s write-up? It ran today in the Newgate Times.”
He turns serious, glancing between me and Eloise. His voice drops. “I haven’t. Can you give it to Perry? I trust him. There’s another issue we need to handle first.”
Eloise frowns, clearly picking up on the tension thickening the air. She gets up, leaning down enough to sweep up a large tote bag that says I just wet my plants, and sits in the free chair. Perry stands, gesturing for me to take his seat.
“Send me the graphics and I’ll go through them,” Perry says to Eloise as I take the newly vacated seat. He dips his head towards Malachi, gives me a smile, and heads out, closing the door behind him with a quiet snick.
Eloise looks between Kasar, who’s turned to lean against the window and give Malachi his full attention. “Is this something I should hang around for, or should I head downstairs too?”
Malachi waves her to stay seated. “You may as well stay; then you can save me the trouble of updating Ambrose.” He must see the confusion I try to hide when he clarifies. “Eloise is Ambrose’s mate.”
I shouldn’t feel as relieved as I do learning that. But it’s quickly replaced by steely determination when Kasar pushes off the wall and crosses to the desk in two strides. “So, tell me everything. What is going on with the break-in at my place? What haven’t you told me?”
“Oh,” Eloise says, drawing out the O. Her gaze darts between me and Malachi and there’s a mischievous glint in her eye. “Is it like that, then? Did Mal-pal here go full alpha, overprotective vampire male on you?”
Malachi rolls his eyes, surprising me, as Eloise snickers. She reaches over and pats my arm, making me realize I’ve clenched both hands tightly in my lap. “We really need to hang out and get to know each other. Anyone who makes Mr. One-night-stands go into protective vampire mode has my automatic approval.”
I blink at her, surprised at the turn the conversation seems to be taking. “Thank you, I guess?” My heart can’t help but flutter when I think of what we did the night before and how everything seems to be pointing towards it being more than just one night.
“Where was Kit during the break-in?” Malachi asks, completely ignoring Eloise and directing his attention to Kasar.
“Wait, wait. Kit? The shifter guy who’s asked me out a few times? You think this is him?” My voice is thin, sharp-edged with disbelief. It’s at that moment I realize Malachi isn’t wearing the contacts that he usually does when at The Place.
He doesn’t look at me as he replies. Those golden eyes now fully unveiled are fixed on Kasar, but his voice cuts clean and lethal. “We know it is. I caught his scent there and on the gifts you’ve received.”
The room goes still. Kasar nods once, confirming Malachi’s assessment like a full sentence. There’s a shift, a subtle tightening of the air, and every hair on my arms stands on end.
“He’s been seen near The Place twice in the last week,” Kasar says, voice rough like smoked steel. “Trying to pass casual. Watching from across the street. Too polished for a drunk night out, too still for a man with no agenda.”
My stomach drops straight through the floor.
Eloise—still perched in her chair, now silent but alert—watching me with a trace of something softer than her usual impish charm. Like she’s balancing between two instincts: the jokester and the fellow woman who’s seen too much.
I sit back hard in the leather chair, the material creaking beneath my thighs. “But… that doesn’t make sense. Why?”
I don’t mean the break-in. I mean the escalation.
Kit was always pushy, yeah. Always too smooth, too confident. I’d made it pretty clear I wasn’t interested in going to dinner with him, and then Malachi said we were dating. This, though? Driving me out of my home? Creeping on me at work? Sending hauntingly personal gifts? That’s not just being persistent. That’s anobsession.
“He wants you.” Malachi’s voice is deep, calm—but there’s razor wire coiled beneath each word. “I saw it at the Gentlemen’s Study. The way he hovered at your end of the bar, how he tried to touch you and didn’t like being told no. He practically challenged me when you left to clock out that night.”
My heart beats faster, a low roar building in my ears. “So what, he’s pissed I told him no? I’ve told him no for years.”
“Shifters,” Kasar says, his tone resigned, “don’t all play by the same rules. Some of them think claiming is about persistence, not consent. Add obsession and a bruised ego, and you get dangerous delusion.”
“He wasn’t supposed to be that close,” Malachi mutters, more to himself than anyone else. “He shouldn’t have had the opportunity.”
