Sapphamire (2 page)

“Answer him correctly, you little deformed bitch,” the beef-cake of a man spat into her face.

“Go blow yourself, jackass.” And with that he yanked even harder on her hair. She couldn’t hold back her gasp at the pain. But before he could do anything else, Mr. Barrymire stepped in.

“Enough, let her go.” There was a deadly-steel edge to his voice, and she was glad the guard decided to listen when a few seconds later he released her hair. As if she wasn’t kneeling on the carpet, trying to massage circulation back into her aching scalp, he approached the guard, stopping just inches from her. She had closed her eyes for a moment to compose herself. When she reopened them, it was to see his groin directly in front of her face.
Well, hello, big boy
!

“You will never again lay a hand on Ms. Clayton. Do I make myself clear?” If Natasha had thought there was steel in his voice a moment ago, it was nothing compared to the deadly menace his words were laced with now. Suddenly, there was a hand in front of her, his offer of help in standing up.

She ignored the outstretched hand and stood on her own in one fluid movement. She sent a warning glare over to the guard.
Just you wait, buddy. If I get this job, I promise you I will not forget what you have done.
And if either of them thought she would bow to anyone, he had another think coming.

“You’re very strong-willed,” Blain stated, his gaze no longer quite as cold but filled with curiosity.

“I don't believe in you being higher or lesser than me. I won't be treated like a piece of property and wear a leash around my neck just because some brute feels like he’s a hotshot who needs to have someone below him to make him feel powerful. Sir,” she stated flatly. Why couldn’t she ever learn to shut her mouth?
Because you’ve already seen the worst humanity and Others can do to one another.
She had been forced to submit in ways she refused ever to go through again. Living in cages, wearing collars, bowing before someone every day, kissing someone’s hands or feet; it all swirled into a deep, dark past she wished weren't a part of her. Those were the things nightmares were made of, but that was how she had been forced to live for several years of her early adulthood.

Blain nodded, a gleam in his eye. “Completely understandable. You make a valid point, Ms. Clayton.” Noticing she was still trying to massage her scalp casually with the tips of her fingers, he added, “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine. I don’t require your attention or your pity.” She jutted her chin and squinted her eyes a bit, letting him know she was very serious on this statement. Yes, he might be her last option, but she would be damned if she would go around feeling like she owed him her life.

“No? Then tell me why you are so intent on making such a good first impression on me.”

Natasha inhaled, locking her gaze down on the carpet. Now he was getting down to the core of the situation. “Because you are my last chance to live a true life, sir.”

His voice gentled, reminding her of warm honey drizzling down on her. “And why is that, Natasha?”

She drew in a deep breath. There was no use in lying. He had probably already pulled her history and would already know everything she was about to tell him.

“I have been labeled as a ticking time bomb. My father is an angel and my mother is half demon and half pixie, but I inherited none of their powers. The elders believe since I cannot settle with a forced mate, nor can I display powers that I am believed to hold, I must find a job that allows me to be watched carefully, or live in a cage for the rest of my days, or be killed. Sir, I cannot let death reach me, I have someone who depends on me more than you know.” She couldn’t even bring herself to look at him. She felt as if she had just stripped down naked and was left standing in shame.

“You shall not have to face any of that here with me, Natasha,” he whispered, stepping up to her and tilting her chin up to look at him. He searched her eyes deeply for a long time.

It wasn’t until the man behind her cleared his throat that Blain backed away from her, it made mistake number two from his guard, and that was unacceptable. He needed to get Natasha settled and out of the office, then he would deal with his guard. He would make sure the man knew just who was in charge by the time he was finished with him.

“There are only a few more things that I wish to know before you get settled. What position was it that you applied for?” he asked.

She blinked only once as she struggled to figure out why he had just worded his question the way he did. There was only one position she knew of, and besides, surely he had all of her paperwork sitting right on his desk. “Your right-hand, sir. I heard your last betrayed you and nearly got you killed.”

“You think you can do a better job?” he inquired as he raked his eyes slowly over her beautiful lean body.

“May I borrow that?” she asked, gesturing to the pen he was fiddling with.

He handed it to her, wondering what she was up to. He watched as she quickly spun around and threw it toward his guard. She never even waited to see if she made her mark, simply spinning back around and facing him calmly.

“You missed,” he said, a teasing smile coming to his lips.

“Did I now?” she asked in wide-eyed innocence.

Blain glanced back toward his guard and barely contained his chuckle as he noticed the other man looking scared. His guard swallowed hard before grabbing the family jewels and lifting them out of the way, leaning over as he went. There, lodged in the heavy wooden door, just barely missing his balls, was Blain’s pen.
Absolutely amazing! She never even took the time to aim! And Goddamn, is she hot!

“Know this, Natasha Clayton. I do not need a protector, although I am glad you have some skill in that area, should it ever be needed. I do need a secretary, an organizer, and someone to keep me in line. You start working immediately. Donatello here will show you to your room. You have an hour before I expect you to join me at dinner, and make sure you wear something elegant. The High Council will be attending tonight.”

Natasha hadn't missed the appreciative gleam in his eye when she missed sinking his pen into his guard’s balls by mere millimeters.
That will show the asshat not to pull my hair!
“Until tonight then, sir,” she spoke softly, demurely, bowing her head for a few seconds before turning and following the guard out. The same guard who was now just a bit shaken and scared of her.
Well, he can be scared of me all he wants. I am going to prove myself to be the best right-hand woman Mr. Barrymire has ever had. He is giving me a chance. I won’t let him down.

Blain pulled on the jacket to his tux nervously. Normally, he didn’t have any problems dealing with the Council of Others, but tonight was different. He had just met his true life mate a little over an hour ago. Too bad she didn’t have enough of her powers to know the same. But now, he had to sit in front of the High Council and vouch for his mate, all without letting on she was his mate, and attest she had proven she could serve him well and could tend to his needs and demands. Well, he hoped she could tend to his needs, but in the back of his mind he knew that may very well take a while.

He hated throwing formal dinners like this, and sadly he had already hired a faux date to sit at his left side tonight. One woman he didn’t want to touch but had to, and one woman that he wanted to touch but couldn’t. Tonight was going to be nothing short of torture.

He quickly did up his tie and headed downstairs to his waiting date, Amberlynn. He glanced around, but Natasha was nowhere to be seen. He stopped one of the guards walking past and quietly inquired as to the whereabouts of his new assistant. They quickly informed him that she had been pulled away temporarily and had sent a message down that she would join him in just a few minutes. Groaning inwardly, he offered his arm to his date before entering the room. All the elders stood as he and his date entered the formal dining room. “Please, be seated and enjoy the great food at Dragonmire Castle!” He walked around to the head of the table, seated his date on his left side, and took his own seat.

He was proud of his home. When he had decided about eight years ago to access Earth through one of the portals on his home world, Dragonose, he came with the belief that finding his mate would be a rather easy job. Then again, he had come under the assumption that only humans resided on this planet. Now, he knew both assumptions were incorrect. The king had granted his request to leave, only requesting that Blain keep the knowledge of the Iceland portal away from all others. That was an easy promise to make his king. Since then, he only got called upon by his king when the Raptorians grew bored and decided to start a fight. The king would then send out an emergency distress call to each and every one of his dragons, expecting them to return home immediately to help defend their world.

“Ms. Clayton, where is she?” Councilwoman Kristin, who was a pixie, inquired in an almost frightened voice from the other end of the table.

“She was pulled away to tend to some business before joining us tonight. She shall be along shortly.” He certainly hoped so, anyway. It would look so much better for her if she were sitting next to him.

“Does she please you?” another council member questioned.

“I’d rather wait to discuss the business involving Ms. Clayton, at least until she is in attendance to hear it for herself,” Blain replied with a bit of a sting to his words, then he picked up the small glass sitting at the top of his plate, swallowing the liquid, and enjoying the burn. His guests watching him, quickly followed, all except the vampire in attendance. She had her own goblet of fresh blood sitting at her plate. He heard several “ohs” and “ahs” as his guests enjoyed their pre-dinner treat.

“Delicious!” Councilwoman Hazellette, who was a witch, exclaimed in delight as she ran her tongue across her lower lip. “What is this drink called, Blain?”

He couldn’t hold back his smirk or his chuckle. His guests were not going to see the humor in his answer as he did. “Dragon Piss.”

Total silence descended upon the room for about ten seconds before the double doors were flung open, and a beautiful redhead sauntered into the room. She was wearing a black evening gown that glittered in the light; it was a one shoulder strap ensemble, and he immediately spotted the slit that ran all the way up the side to her hip. She walked up to him with such a regal air that he knew she was the envy of the females in attendance—his own date included.

“My apologies for being late, sir,” she stated when she reached his side. He immediately jumped up to pull her chair out for her.

It was a good thing he didn’t need to speak at that moment, because he suddenly found that his tongue wasn't working as he gazed down at her in awe. He had only thought her beautiful when they met earlier today. But now? Now she was absolutely stunning. She put his date and her short red cocktail dress to shame.

“May we proceed now?” Councilwoman Hazellette snapped out.

Yep, let the envy begin, ladies.

“Yes, Councilwoman Hazellette, I apologize if I was the reason for any hold up,” Natasha quickly replied, seeming to know already that Blain was without words at the moment. He suddenly didn’t give two cents about this dinner. And he certainly didn’t give two cents about this Council harping on his mate. All he wanted was for everyone to get the hell out of his castle so he could spend some time getting to know her.

“You…” he started, but his little mate was quick to cut him off as she leaned in close to him and whispered in his ear.

“Please forgive me for being so late, but there was a very important phone call I had to take.”

“Ah…of course,” he stuttered out, gracing her with a smile. He was getting ready to tell the battle-ax of a witch that she needed to show his mate respect, and that would not have gone over very well at this point.

Leaning back in her seat, Natasha graced him with a gentle smile. His heart did a quick leap into his throat before plummeting down to his groin.
Oh, good God, was she perfect.
One of the elders broke into his deep thoughts as they repeated the earlier question.

“So then, are we to believe Natasha pleases you, and can handle whatever you throw her way?”

Natasha sat silently, but fuming inside. How dared they? This was a paid position, but then again, they had choreographed her numerous forced matings, thinking that it would surely bring on her powers, all the while knowing these “potential” mates were little more than animals.

“Yes, yes, I believe Natasha will fit right into her new position with no problems,” Blain answered with a cold bite in his tone. He still didn’t understand why they seemed so interested in her working for him. Why did they feel it was their business to know how he felt about her? '
Does she please us? Only every damn fucking moment we get to spend looking at her!'
his dragon broke through his thoughts.

“Has Ms. Clayton informed you of the chance of danger you are entering into with signing her contract?”

He watched out of the corner of his eyes as Natasha carefully sat her fork down, but refused to look at him as she awaited his response. He could easily read her body language and knew she feared he might have changed his mind in the past hour. She knew all too well what a simple change of his mind would mean to her. Unfortunately, she had no clue how determined he was never to let her out of his sights.