Capítulo 3: Chapter 3

"How? You look t-too young to be their f-friend?" Blanca asked as she surveyed the man who looked like a god and to think that he assumed that Dimitri Norton was a fat, bald, middle-aged cigar-smoking man was an understatement. He was the epitome of perfection.

However, Dimitri swallowed. The woman had a point there. A rather large one, if one wanted to be fair, which he didn't. Not just then, anyway. "Well, thanks for the compliment, but surely it is boring to talk about my age, isn't it?"

Blanca nodded, hypnotized by the sheer amount of manliness in his gaze. It was like the man had an oozing power and command that she couldn't ignore; some weird, sizzling, unknown thing told her to stop questioning him and rather focus on his obvious handsomeness. Oh well, she could be lost in a fucking spider-infested mountain and she wouldn't mind as long she was with this man. He was that alluring, seductive, and he was not even trying. In fact, he looked rather annoyed by her gaze, and yet here she was drooling over this god.

Oh, weird, Blanca thought to herself as she mentally shook her head. "By the way, Mr. Norton, forget my unexpected visit, I didn't really have the opportunity to reschedule, not that your butler wasn't easy to persuade," she hedged, and then, when it seemed from his expression that that wasn't enough explanation, she added, "as I mentioned when I spoke earlier, I came here for an interview."

He stared at her for longer than made her comfortable, his dark ocean-blue eyes inscrutable, and then he mumbled, "I didn't understand a word you said, young lady."

She felt her mouth form an oval of... shock? angry? No, irritation. "Seriously? Weren't you even listening to my words?"

"I tried." Dimitri shook his head as she gestured to the long, massive furry couch.

Blanca pursed her lips. "Oh, very well, then," she said, and sat down, counting to five in her head—in Spanish—before adding, "Mr. Norton, please accept my apologies. I am sorry to have entered your massive state unannounced. It was dreadfully ill-mannered of me."

The woman was making fun of his property. He realized when he saw her mind mentally rolling her mind. It almost made him smile. Reading her mind was too easy. She was as open as the window. Her mind, though, wasn't ordinary. It had a lot of dark walls, too many secret walls, covered with well-protected spells that, oddly enough, he couldn't open. Who the hell did this to this young woman in his living room? But he knew she wasn't lying. She was innocent and even so pure, but there was something in her that he couldn't put a finger on. Some impenetrable, tremendous, magical cloud covered her deepest thoughts. She was like a huge puzzle. A beautiful strawberry and lilac puzzle.

Then Dimitri smiled. He was silent for a full five seconds—Blanca counted that as well—before saying, "I accept your apology, miss. After all, you are the daughter of Vergil."

She cleared her throat.

"And of course"—he coughed, erasing her memory of whatever he just said, glancing around as if in search of someone who might save him from her—her scent made him dizzy, but not in a bad way; rather, his inner monster was trying to get out, screaming... The pull of a mate bond was unexpected and unavoidable. Was this woman his lifemate? One way to find out is to taste her blood, and thinking about him driving his fangs into her delicate neck made him want her even more. "Oh, well, I'll be available for your interview later. Is this about paranormal research?"

"Yes, Mr. Norton."

"Good, good I am delighted that you are here," Dimitri mumbled as he quickly tapped the butler bell on the side table. Giving his butler an indication that he needed his presence. However, he knew why she was here, but looking at her pink plump lips made him lose his words. He was never lost for words, he was Dimitri Norton. The last living vampire on earth. Yet here he was, acting like a foolish teenager with his crush.

It would probably be impolite to point out that he sounded anything but optimistic, so Blanca just sat there, gazing at his right cheekbone as she strived to decide what she could say without outraging him.

She considered it a sad state of affairs that she, who generally had something to say for any occasion, couldn't think of anything. She was lost for words. The man was cunning and beautiful at the same time.

Hair as gold as sin, it fell in a smooth river to his shoulders. He had pulled back the top layer with a dark clasp, leaving the bottom to brush the expensive shirt.

If she was at a party, and Dimitri was there, she was sure there was no woman in the room who wasn't imagining running her fingers through that glossy mane, then Blancs would eat her diamond-beaded bag. Dimitri-fucking-Norton had only to step into a room for the estrogen to charge into hyperdrive. He had that impact because she felt it too. Now!

Luckily, he saved their awkward stillness from growing to tremendous fractions by asking, "Is that all of your luggage?" Dimitri asked, pointing at the small, dark-pink, sparkling suitcase at the door trying all his best not to take a breather from her amazing scent.

Blanca straightened her shoulders, thrilled to move on to a comparatively small subject. "Yes. I didn't really—" She broke herself off. Did she really want to tell him that she'd stolen away from home in the middle of the night? It didn't seem to speak well of her, or of her foster family, for that matter. She wasn't sure why, but she didn't want him to know that she had, for all intents and purposes, run away. London was getting extremely mundane and she hated the traffic, the noise, and the city life. She wasn't certain why she thought so, but she had a striking impression that if he recognized the fact, he'd pack her up and send her back to London posthaste. And while her meeting with Dimitri had not thus far proven to be the thing of romance novels and bliss she'd imagined it to be, she was not yet prepared to give up.

Wait, what the hell was she thinking about romance and all? She was here because she wanted to interview him, and she was one of the best of the intern paranormal researchers, slash, envoys, or whatever her boss was telling her about penetrating Norton's state. She was here with a goal, to know the life of Norton. Well, at least he was not a fat bald man. It was a plus that he was beyond handsome. Not that she cared. Of course, she doesn't care if the man looks exactly like the man in her teenage dream, where romance movies and books often mention that Dimitri was by far the most beautiful human she has ever seen.

Why was she thinking about how beautiful he was? She was supposed to ask him anything about the paranormal and such... not that she one hundred percent believed the authenticity of it, but since a few months ago, everything was chaos, maybe she was getting crazy? Not that hearing voices at night was unusual; having the same stupid and creepy dream every night was. Not that her getting physically stronger, heightened senses, and weird craving for uncooked meat, and not to mention her neighbor cats hating her wherever she goes. Yes, it was not too paranormal. Maybe she was just paranoid?

However, thinking about going back to her foster family nowadays was not a good thing. Not that she hated them or they hated her. In fact, they loved her too much. Her Nonna loved her to death, but she was bloody twenty-three years old now. She needs to stand on her own feet, right?

Especially when that meant running back to her foster family with her tail between her legs.

"That is all I have, sir," she said firmly, with a small smile.

"Good. I, er . . ." He looked around again, this time a little desperately, which Blanca did not find flattering in the least. "Gabby!" he bellowed.

The butler appeared so quickly that he must have been eavesdropping. "Yes, sir?"

"You didn't hear my bell?"

"I did sir,"

"Good, you need to prepare a room for Miss Vergil and prepare something for breakfast "

"I have already done so, sir," Gabby assured him.

Dimitri's cheeks colored slightly. "Good," he grunted. "She will be staying here for . . ." He looked at her in an instant.

"A week?" Blanca supplied, hoping that was about the right amount of time.

"A week," Dimitri repeated as if the butler wouldn't have heard her reply. "We will do everything in our power to make her happy, of course."

"Of course," the butler approved. "I've already spoken to miss Vergil yesterday, and Miss, I'll be glad to show you your room later."

"Good," Dimitri mumbled, still looking somewhat anxious about the whole circumstance. Or if not uncomfortable, specifically, then perhaps exhausted, which might have been even more difficult. But Gabby knew his boss was trying his best not to attack the woman. He knew this kind of look. His boss was trying not to dove his fangs at the beautiful young lady and suck the life out of her.

However, Blanca was disappointed. The man was surely ignoring her and almost wanted to bolt away from her as fast as possible. Wait, she doesn't smell, right?

Yes, she forgot to brush her teeth during the flight, but who brushes their teeth during a boring flight, anyway?

Nevertheless, she'd pictured him as a man of easy charm, rather than someone trying to get rid of her easily, or maybe he was just waiting for her to fire questions upon questions? Maybe Dimitri Norton wasn't a man to have millions of words? Well, whatever it was supposed to mean, she was staying and wouldn't leave until she got what she came here for, "Hemp!" Gabby faked a cough, yet the old man possessed a dashing smile and always knew what to say in any situation, awkward or otherwise.

Dimitri, on the other hand, looked as if he'd rather be anywhere else but where he was, and he was not trying to make a conversation at all. He doesn't even look like he was breathing.

Weird. She thought how uncomfortable he appeared to be. Mathena muttered a curse under her breath. She was allowing herself to be distracted. Okay, the man looked like some bloody heaven's angel, and those lips... running through her neck, down to her bosom, to her navel, and to her…"Fuck!" She better stop thinking! And those dark blue eyes held a sultry heat that could melt steel at a hundred paces.

But what the hell was she even thinking? She mentally shook her head at the absurdity of her thinking. She was here for an interview. Nothing else.

"So, Mr. Norton, when is the right time to interview you?"

"After lunch."

Okay, that was an incredibly quick response. Blanca thought maybe the man was bored to death.

What was she supposed to do? Dance Gangnam style in front of this so-called beautiful hottie? With the image in her mind, she cringed.

Reading her thoughts, Dimitri wanted to smile. Blanca thought he was bored and wanted nothing but to leave her...

Hell, that would be the last thing Dimitri would do. He wanted to just take her right there and then and taste her delectable blood.

"OK, after lunch then," she grumbled under her breath. And Dimitri's efforts had better be good ones indeed because if it was true that first impressions were the most accurate, she rather doubted that she would assume that he would make an acceptable person to ask about her paranormal research of unknown things.

She smiled at him through gritted teeth, with no less than an inkling of asking him about her real parents.

Dimitri couldn't blame her though, after all, he erased her memory of him even knowing that he knew her real parents.

Nonetheless, when Gabby left, Dimitri was mentally panicking. He could almost feel his gums generating him. The ache and the desire to just dive his fangs into the woman's neck made him feel so anxious and dizzy. Yes, he realized there was something wrong with Blanca. Browsing her mind was like reading an empty book. Her mind was cloaked in a tremendous dark enchantment. Yes, he recognized the magic used. This was Benjamin's ability. Maybe his friend had managed to hide his daughter from the enemy?

Besides, every supernatural folk knew that vampires and werewolves were mortal enemies, but circumstances had changed his resentment towards the werewolf community because it was Benjamin who saved his life two decades ago when the London War of werewolves started. Benjamin and Barbara were once a powerful couple. Their pack was the ones who apprehended him from his deep sleep-cursed of fifty years under the earth. Rather than killing him after the discovery of his underground chamber coffin, Barbara and Benjamin saved him, healed him, and gave him blood to quench his fifty years of imprisonment rather than thrusting a stake in his heart. Those unselfish acts had commenced a war between the nearby packs, thus enticing a conflict between the Alphas. The war took a week to end, and hundreds of werewolves perished.

Benjamin's pack lost the battle. Their land and pack were apprehended, and the rest of the pack warriors surrendered. However, it was rumored that the Alpha and Luna vanished or were killed by Dimitri himself. Unbeknownst to them, Dimitri healed them with his blood when he found them almost on the verge of death in the northern forest, yet rather than saving them, the two died in his arms. It was a mistake. His blood didn't help the recovery but evoked a quick painful death that until now bestowed him a decent amount of regrets. He didn't have any idea why or how it happened because his blood was supposed to heal them but their demised was not his goal, he didn't mean it, of course. He intended to save the Alpha and the Luna, but before her last breath, she mentioned having a daughter. She even told him to take care of her until his last dying breath.

He begged where she had hidden her daughter, but she just closed her eyes and died. However, he noticed her missing necklace and thought perhaps it was given to her daughter, and now Barbara's daughter was sitting beside him, smelling like some expensive wine, delectable and extraordinary. And yes, he promised Barbara that he would take care of her daughter, that he would look after her, but two decades passed and he still hadn't found her, and now here she was. Odd. Wasn't it a bit of a coincidence? Blanca was now twenty-three years old, right? A perfect age for mating and shifting into her wolf? Does she even notice that she was a werewolf? And that she was supposed to sense a tremendous change in her body? Her senses? And the mating pull to her mate would be too hard to ignore?

Regardless, reading her mind, he knew that the woman didn't have any idea that she was a werewolf nor that she was a powerful dark one.

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