Free Black Magic Rose by Jordan K. Rose

nose and smudged the ink over her clean cheek.  
    Jankin nodded. “I think you’re correct, lass. You do need some skill to help you. What kind of employer would I be if I didn’t teach you what you need to know?” He turned her to face the wolves. “Osgar, here’s your new recruit.” He nudged her forward.
    Osgar grinned, but judging from Sofia’s response, she didn’t read it as a welcoming smile.
    “Not like that!” She spun out of Jankin’s grasp and stood behind him. “As a human.”
    “Oh, no. The wolves train in wolf form first. The human training for this group won’t begin for several weeks,” Jankin explained. His tone was much lighter than seconds earlier. “I don’t want to wait. I should have thought of this weeks ago. You need to be conditioned for battle and not because you’ll ever go onto the field. That you will never do. But, it appears I’ve given you a job in which you’ll need battlefield strategy as well as the ability to physically endure each round with the staff.” He pursed his lips and inhaled. “Aye, you’ll need this type of training after all.” He rubbed his chin.  
    “Well…” She glanced at the wolves.  
    Rick growled, making it very clear she’d be in for a rough go if he were forced to take her. In Sofia’s short tenure at Cader she hadn’t endeared herself to the wolf. In fact, Dragomir was certain she’d made an enemy for life. His line of vision narrowed on the wolf.  
    Rick snapped at Dragomir, baring his teeth.  
    “Maybe training with the wolves isn’t the best idea,” Jankin said. He paced a few feet, scratching his beard. “Maybe I can find someone else.” He smiled. It was a smile that made his typically pleasant face appear entirely vampire.  
    Rick growled.
    Dragomir snarled, his fangs cutting into his lip.  
    Jankin nodded. “Dragomir will train you.”  
    The room suddenly smelled like a funeral parlor that had just received a fresh delivery of floral arrangements.  

Chapter Eight
    “Perfect. Just perfect.” Sofia scrubbed the ink off her face with more gusto than required. “You are something else, girl.” She stared into the mirror, no longer focusing on the ink smudged over her nose or the rosy cheek she’d nearly rubbed down to bone. “Train me. I don’t want to be helpless. Blah. Blah. Blah.” She did her best damsel in distress imitation. “Sometimes you amaze even me.” She bandaged both her knees, using those flexi-bandages that promised to withstand hours of movement. “Well, we’ll just see how flexible you are,” she taunted the bandage box. “Can you stay on while I spend my night being trained by Vlad? I’ll bet he really is The Impaler. The real Dracula.” She jerked her jeans up, tied her sneakers, and with an angry huff, slammed her fist on the bathroom countertop as she glared at herself in the mirror one more time before walking into the bedroom.  
    She left the lights off and snuck up to the window to peek out at Dragomir. He stood leaning against Osgar’s giant truck, staring up at the window. “Oooh! Just how many people have you killed, Vlad?”  
    He mouthed something.  
    “Can you hear me?” she whispered.  
    He nodded.  
    “It is completely inappropriate for you to eavesdrop on my conversations! You’re a miscreant.” She stomped toward the door, yelling, “Have you no manners? No respect?” She clomped down the stairs, half shouting and half mumbling. “ Disrespectful . Inhuman. Dead. What next? ” She threw open the door.
    He hadn’t moved from his spot behind the truck.  
    She pulled on her sweatshirt and descended the steps down to her walkway. “And furthermore—” She found herself on her ass in the mulch bed.  
    Dragomir glanced at her from the same place she’d last seen him.  
    “You did that on purpose! What was the point? Obviously, you can knock me down. Just about any one of you can knock me down. Did that make you happy?” She stood up and dusted off