I Am the Wild (The Night Firm #1)- Karpov Kinrade Page 0,32
He touches my arm gently, letting his fingers slide over my skin, before walking away.
My skin tingles where he made contact, and it takes my body a beat to settle down from the effects of his attention.
These Night brothers might be the death of me, in more ways than one.
I attempt to read, to study the pile of texts left for me, but my mind keeps returning to the enigmatic Elijah, his clear blue eyes holding keen intelligence and secret knowledge. Giving up, I pull out my sketchbook, which I take with me everywhere, and begin to draw from memory the eyes that I can't put out of my mind. I draw him as I saw him when I entered his study, sitting at his desk, a book before him, his expression one of lost reflection as he looks up at the noise of me entering his space.
When I'm done, I study it and smile. It's as if he's sitting before me, mid-interruption, just before he's about to speak. I tuck the sketchbook back into my bag and refocus my attentions.
For the rest of the morning, I read. And let me just set the record straight, in case there was any confusion about this, reading law books is about as exciting as watching paint dry. Paranormal law books are no exception, though a few of their laws raised my eyebrows.
For example, there's a law that werewolves aren't allowed to leave their clothing on private property not belonging to them, or on public lands, during full moon shifts, unless they request a special permit, which has to be signed by a judge. The penalty for breaking this law is one full moon cycle locked up in silver chains.
I make good work on the books. One of the ways I was able to graduate with both my MBA and law degree so fast was my ability to speed read and retain the vast majority of the material I take in when I do. When I told the Night brothers that I'm smart, I wasn't being vain or exaggerating. I'm a member of Mensa, after all.
At around three in the afternoon, I’m in the middle of a thick book on court procedures when I get a flash that I’m needed in the topiary garden. I have no idea by whom or for what, but there’s no resisting the sensation. I decide to take a stroll outside to enjoy some sunshine and Vitamin D before my planned slumber.
There's a gentle breeze that carries the scent of wild flowers, and the sun is so warm and bright that I feel sorry for vampires who can no longer feel the kiss of daylight on their skin. What a sad existence that must be, to be forced into darkness, never again experiencing nature's light.
I make my way through the garden, passing bushes molded into fantastical beasts straight from fairy tales, following my instincts and marveling at the artistry that went into creating the landscape around the castle as I go, until I hear something coming from one of the bushes. A meowing, tiny and faint, but there.
I squat down to peer into the bush, and stuck there between two branches is a tiny black kitten with big yellow eyes staring at me plaintively. It meows again and looks at the end of its rope. Careful not to hurt the fur ball, I maneuver it out of the bramble and scoop it into a pouch I make of my sweatshirt. I give the kitten a quick exam to see if there are any obvious injuries.
"You look in one piece," I say. "And it seems you're a boy."
He holds eye contact with me and purrs each time I pet him. He looks at me with such love and devotion my heart melts, and I'm determined I will keep him. Hopefully I don't have to go battle with the brothers over this, but I will if I must.
I head back to the castle and I find Lily, bringing her into my plan. After a high-pitched squeal of delight, she goes off in search of food and supplies to care for him.
I bring him back to my room and take a warm cloth to his fur, brushing away bits of stick and dirt. He purrs the whole time.
When I'm done, I hold his face up to mine, nuzzling him with my nose. "You're going to need a name," I say. "What shall we call you?"