The Blessed

They were burning the damn cream puffs again.

“Get away from the pastry station, both of you! Alexander - just get the next batch of cream ready for piping. Stacy, if you mess up my caramel again, I’m kicking you out of the kitchen.”

Althea didn’t normally snap at her trainee pastry chefs, but they were letting their nerves get the best of them tonight. There was a big important meeting in the club’s private room that the owner had been talking about all week. Althea didn’t ask about it, because the less she knew of this shady place and its various criminal activities the better. Velvet Night was in the back alleys – a place rich people went and pretended they didn’t. Althea couldn’t afford to be picky though. She needed anonymity even more than she needed money. Nobody knew her here, and hopefully nobody would.

That she was forced to work in places like this was unfortunate, but to the gentler souls in the kitchen, it bordered on terrifying. Whoever was in the private room with the owner right now had the servers shaking, and their fear was affecting her coworkers.

“Yes, Chef!” It was chorused by the trainees as they scrambled to do as she asked. Althea sighed and finished the pastries herself, hoping the rest of this night went by quickly so she could get out of these uncomfortable clothes under the Chef jacket.

“Chef could you...” one of the servers was trembling on the other side of the workstation, looking at her imploringly.

“Could you d-do the desert presentation tonight? You’re much better at it! And I... I spilled some wine earlier during my service.”

“Yes, fine.” She answered shortly. Althea wasn’t worried. She’d faced a lot worse than a thug leading a few cronies, or whoever their VIP guests were. Half a dozen of these wannabe mob bosses had popped up and been taken down since she moved to this town. They didn’t last long. True danger was meeting someone who was Blessed. Humans who had allowed an Old God to fuse with their souls and grant them abilities far beyond what humans should be capable of. Thankfully, Althea hadn’t met any since leaving her hometown. Not many even knew The Blessed existed.

An hour and 200 cream puffs later, Althea was ready to take dessert to the private room. The two domed platters were carried behind her by servers as she made her way to the heavy, sound proofed doors.

“Sorry Chef Althea, you can’t go in like that. The boss insists that anyone who enters tonight be in full formal.”

The club manager looked apologetic but firm, so Althea grudgingly removed her jacket, exposing the brocade corset underneath. Yes, the owner of this damn club made them all wear corsets - men and women alike. Althea’s was red and black, with diamond patterns and crimson laces in the back. She absolutely hated it. Trying to cook with the thick fabric and boning pressing into her body was a nightmare, but the owner wanted it to look like a brothel in here, apparently.

She handed her jacket to the manager and flicked a hand irritably. The man opened the ornate doors for her. Wanting to get this over with quickly, she strode directly to the owner to await his cue, not bothering to look at any of the guests. A low whistle drew her glance for a moment, her annoyance growing as she met the eyes of Amadeus, the owner’s son. He’d been relentlessly harassing Althea since she first met the slimy perv last year.

The design of this room matched the rest of the club’s decor quite well – her trainee Stacy called it ‘vampire chic’. Along with the gothic furniture, low lighting, and dark wallpaper in the VIP room, the owner had added a long table, which at a glance seemed to seat about a dozen men, including her employers. The owner showed only a moment of surprise at seeing Althea before donning a truly greasy smile and calling out to the room.

“Honored guests, for dessert I have quite a treat for you! Our Head Chef will be doing a tableside presentation of her finest pastry creation. Chef Althea - please show our guests what great esteem we hold them in.”

Althea spread her hands like a conductor, and the two domed platters were brought to her, one filled with caramel and the other with cream puffs. With deft fingers, she assembled them into a great tower before the guests’ eyes, spinning caramel like candy floss to wrap the desert in decadence. She was the only one in the club that could assemble the great centerpiece of pastry in just a few minutes.

“Tonight, I have prepared for you my take on a croquembouche. Choux pastry puffs filled with spiced pumpkin cream and coated with apple cider caramel. Enjoy.”

Althea dipped into a sweeping bow and turned to leave when a posh voice cut through the room.

“One moment, Chef.”

Althea turned back around to see that the man at the seat of honor was standing. Her polite smile froze on her face as she met his eyes. He was horribly, distressingly beautiful. She would know his features in any world. A study in contrast, with such dark hair and eyes against palest skin. The sharpness of his cheekbones and the tilt of upturned eyes paired with full, soft-looking lips.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I’d appreciate if you’d serve me personally.”

He gestured to the space next to him and sat back down, not bothering to hide his arrogant smirk. Althea looked at the owner and raised a brow as if to say, ‘do I have to?’ which the brothel-loving man obviously nodded at in response. Repressing a sigh, she made her way towards obvious danger, not looking at any of the guests. This job paid pretty well, but she was definitely going to ask for a raise later.

“Father, I’ve never gotten personal service from Althea. I think it’s fair to ask her to service me next - surely, she has time.”

Amadeus’ oily voice was overtly suggestive, as was the way his eyes lingered on Althea’s ass. Her fists balled and she opened her mouth to tell the man where to shove it when that posh voice stopped her again.

“I’m afraid I may monopolize your Chef’s time tonight, actually. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

The owner hastened to reassure his VIP that he could have Althea for the rest of the night (thanks boss, I’m not actually a prostitute) while Amadeus scowled. All she could think was that her luck had finally run out, as the beautiful man reached a hand towards her and said,

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Althea. My name is Kiran North.”

Althea extended her hand, which the man turned and brought to his plush lips, kissing her knuckles. She swallowed thickly, hoping her voice would not waver. He didn’t remember her. She needed to relax.

“The pleasure is mine, Mr. North.”

North’s rich brown eyes had a distinctly red tint to them, and his lips lingered against Althea’s skin for a moment too long to be proper. He seemed to be staring through Althea’s green eyes. When her hand was released, Althea placed two perfect cream puffs onto the plate in front of him. Unsure what to do now that she had served the man, she folded her arms behind her back and waited.

The other guests at the table had resumed talking, several taking their own portions of dessert or calling for more wine. Whether this was to drink or to harass the poor serving girls, Althea wasn’t sure. North never moved his eyes from her, not even to glance at the pastries on his plate. Instead, he slid his chair back quietly and patted his thigh, a devious smile spreading over his face.

“Take a seat. You must be exhausted, overseeing that extensive meal in such a... restrictive uniform.”

Althea contemplated pouring the man’s wine out over his head, before her survival instincts stopped her. There were far too many of her coworkers here too, and she didn’t think North would mind harming them if he got upset enough. She understood now why the servers came back to the kitchen so shaken - as angelic as the man’s features were, there was also something deeply unsettling about him. He was too still, like a snake that was preparing to strike.

Not seeing a way out of it, Althea sat across Kiran North’s lap. She absolutely refused to blush at this, murmuring quietly.

“Thank you for your consideration, Mr. North.”

The cocky bastard inclined his head graciously and gestured to the cream puffs before wrapping an arm around her waist. The other he laid across Althea’s knee, clearly not intending to pick the sweets up himself. Althea did NOT get paid enough for this.

Casting an embarrassed glance around the room, it seemed like most of the guests were busy chatting or flirting with servers. The owner and his son were in a whispered conversation. She saw one man reach for her co-worker’s breast as she cleaned up a spill, and Althea flicked a blob of caramel at his eye as discreetly as possible before grabbing a cream puff. She turned back to North to see he had an amused smile on his handsome face. Well, he probably saw that, but he didn’t seem to care.

She brought the pastry to the man’s mouth, who took a small bite, eyes still riveted on Althea’s. Until he chewed - and then his gaze flickered to the desert in Althea’s hand. She tried to pull away, but North’s hand lifted from her knee and seized Althea’s wrist. He brought Althea’s hand back to his mouth and wrapped his lips eagerly around the pastry and Althea’s fingertips, groaning quietly.

“That is incredible. Truly delicious, Althea. You’re quite talented.” North licked a bit of sugar from Althea’s thumb, and her breath caught for a moment.

“Thank you. I don’t get a lot of feedback when I live in the kitchen. An empty plate is the best I can hope for.”

North smiled at this, and it seemed to have a bit of genuine warmth in it. Huh. What an odd thing to thaw this icy man.

“May I have another? You should have one with me, as well.”

She did, eyes brightening happily as she noted that the textures and flavors had come together perfectly. She swallowed with a contented hum before grabbing the one on North’s plate and bringing it to his lips again. The man didn’t give Althea a chance to pull away this time. His hand shot up to seize Althea’s wrist and pushed the entire pastry in his mouth, eyes closing in pleasure. The Chef in Althea couldn’t help but be extremely flattered by this, even if the soft, sensual expression made her a bit uncomfortable.

The flattered feeling left quickly as North’s eyes flickered open, spotted a string of caramel on her pointer and middle fingertips, and flipped her hand palm- up before sucking the digits into his warm mouth. Althea flinched backwards, but the arm around her waist tightened and the grip on her wrist was firm. The way North’s tongue swirled around her fingertips was obscene, and Althea couldn’t help the blush dusting her cheeks any longer. Nothing about this was soft now. Heat pierced through her sharply. Dangerously. She couldn't forget who he was. No desire was worth it.

North’s mouth opened, his hot breath tickling Althea’s palm.

“You made this entire dinner tonight?”

Althea blinked, not expecting the question in the building intensity passing between them.

“Yes, in a way. I’m Head Chef, so I design the menu and delegate my cooks to specific dishes and show them how I want each executed. I took over the entirety of desert tonight because I’m training new pastry Chefs. It’s the most difficult job.”

North nodded, and a neat curl of his black hair slid across his forehead. Althea’s mind was now spinning through possible menus for the following week since she had the next couple of days off, so she absentmindedly smoothed the lock of hair back into place. Her hand froze as she realized what she did, but North’s smile was wide and delighted.

“As incredibly lovely as you look in this, it must be quite uncomfortable.” The devious man plucked at the laces at the back of her corset.

“I’m sure your boss wouldn’t mind if you took it off now. Your work is over for the night, and I would rather see you at ease, Althea.”

Althea snorted lightly before her mouth moved, unfortunately independent from her brain.

“Would you? You seem like the type that enjoys seeing people uncomfortable. My servers have all returned to the kitchen like they're returning from battle.”

Damnit, Althea. This is how you get yourself into the worst situations.

North’s charming smile froze, before turning sharper, colder.

“I’m afraid I can’t take all of the credit for that. My.... companions don’t always have the best manners.”

He nodded towards the other guests at the table, who were openly jeering at one of the servers as they piled her thin arms with more plates than she could carry, making her sway unsteadily on her feet. Althea clenched her jaw but refocused on the viper whose lap she was still on.

“As for the rest... don’t you think it’s a bit early to be making assumptions about me, Althea? We just met, after all. You hardly know me. And I -”

He moved too swiftly for Althea to dodge, the hand that was holding her wrist wrapping around the back of her neck and yanking her head down towards his infuriatingly perfect face.

“I don’t know you nearly as well as I’d like to. I do intend to change that, however.”

His words were a low hiss, both seductive and threatening. Althea was only mildly intimidated though. She was cooperating with Mr. Handsy here because she didn’t want to lose this job or risk harm coming to the servers. That would only cow her for so long. He didn’t remember her, so he should have some restraint. She needed to keep repeating it to herself.

“I don’t need to know you to see past the polite little act you put on. This moment is the most genuine you’ve been with me, Mr. North.”

Althea pushed against the man’s chest to get some space between them and turned to glance around at the other guests. They were getting more belligerent as they got more drunk, and the owner and his useless son weren’t doing anything to intervene. Amadeus just stared over at her like a sad creep.

Well, time to intervene where her cowardly employers would not. Hopping up from North’s lap before she could be stopped, she spoke in a calm but ringing voice.

“Gentlemen, my servers need to assist with kitchen cleanup in about 10 minutes. If you need anything past that time, I will be available to serve you. Thank you.”

Althea inclined her head in a bow and shot meaningful looks at the few servers remaining. They smiled gratefully at her, and a couple had to extract themselves from grasping hands, but the men allowed them to move about finishing their work with minimal grumbling. The owner looked like he might argue, but after seeing Althea’s hard expression, her eyes glinting like cut emeralds, he returned his attention to his wine.

Suddenly her hand was seized, and North yanked Althea around to face him. He seemed upset that her attention had strayed. He was smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes, which were distinctly angry - the red gleam she’d seen earlier was more pronounced. How good was his control in this life?

“Althea...” He purred. “Before you go about doing all of that work, I DO believe you should be more comfortable. I will assist you.”

It wasn’t a question.

He hooked her knees and pulled forward, causing her to collapse on North’s lap, one leg on each side of the man’s thighs. Althea flushed and sat up, so she was hovering over North rather than straddling him and placed her hands on the top of the winged chair. Kiran North’s hands slid slowly, deliberately, from Althea’s knees, up her thighs, over her hips, and around her waist to reach the tight laces. The knot in back was tied simply - Althea loathed struggling out of the cursed thing every night. North wound his fingers around the knot and pulled sharply, watching her waist with a fascinated gleam in his eyes as she sucked in a breath at the increased tightness.

Althea shot him a hateful glare, and North’s mouth twitched up at the sight of it before pulling slowly at the string securing the knot. With a sigh of relief, Althea unclasped the garment in the front and allowed North to remove it. He gave Althea’s chest a hungry look, her lacy bralette not covering as much as she’d like.

“Stay just like that - you look perfect.”

Pervert. Her arms crossed over her chest, her flush spreading. North sat back contentedly, his legs spreading Althea’s open on his lap and his hands gripping Althea’s hips. She tried to lift herself up, but the hands on her hips tightened painfully and pushed her back down.

“Do you like this job, Althea? Are you happy working here?”

Again, with the strange questions.

“Happy enough, when I’m not being manhandled. The pay is good.”

She looked over her shoulder and saw most of the servers were making their way out of the room. Good. At least if she hit North in the balls, he couldn’t take his anger out on them.

“Looks like I have other work to do. Please release me. Now.”

Ok, she’d meant for that to come out more politely, but the man was really pushing her to the edge of her patience. North merely slid his hands from her hips to wrap securely around her waist. His lips pressed together tightly before he calmed enough to speak.

“I don’t take orders from anyone, pet. If you want to be released, you’ll have to make a persuasive request. After all, your boss did say I could have you.”

He smirked cruelly as Althea’s outrage mounted. Her fists shook.

“I don’t care what he said” she spat. “I’m not a whore. You can’t have me, and my job is not worth enough to me to give myself to you. Or to beg you, if that's what you want.”

North’s eyes flashed completely red for a moment and Althea slowly reached for a small knife concealed at her ankle. Abruptly, the last server froze on her way out of the door. The young woman fell to her knees, choking. Something dark and insubstantial, like shadow, was extending from North’s hand and reaching across the room to wrap around the server’s neck. Althea turned back to the man beneath her in horror and shock. He actually dared to use these abilities in public! Was he insane?

“Is her life worth enough to you?”

Oh, this absolute -

“You absolute bastard.” Althea hissed, struggling to pry the fingers around her waist off.

One of North’s fingers made a jerking motion. The server coughed, and a splatter of blood hit the floor. Nobody was fucking doing anything! Her useless employers were watching with alarm, but at a look from North, stayed firmly planted in their seats. The other men at the table must have witnessed their psychopathic leader using his abilities before too, because they didn’t seem confused about how it was happening. Only frightened. Everyone should fear the Blessed, after all.

Althea took a deep breath to calm herself and think. Would he really kill the server just to make a point...? Of course, he would, especially if any of his damned little gang saw Althea rejecting him. She released a slow breath and pushed her anger, her disgust, down into an imaginary box and closed the lid.

She bowed her head, looking up at North from beneath her lashes. Her hands stopped trying to pry the long fingers from her waist and instead wrapped loosely around North’s shoulders. In the sweetest, coyest voice she could muster, she gave in.

“I seem to have other tasks to complete before I can continue serving you. I would appreciate it if you allowed me to fulfill them, and I will return to you if you still want me.”

Althea was going to vomit when she got home tonight.

North hummed, looking quite satisfied. The arms around her loosened and smoothed over her back, trailing dangerously low towards her ass. Her co-worker finally stopped coughing and choking, taking a deep ragged breath and stumbling to her feet. Althea kept her eyes on North, waiting. Finally, he moved his hands to the armrests on the seat.

“I still want you - very deeply, Althea. Return to me quickly.”

The words were whispered with far too much smugness. Althea merely nodded and bit her tongue. Her pride wouldn't do her any good right now. She went to the server, helping her through the sound-proofed doors. When they were safely closed behind them, she instructed the woman to get to the kitchen and tell everyone to leave immediately. Althea could handle cleanup herself tonight. The server gave her a tight hug before walking hurriedly away, and Althea had a feeling this would be her last night here. She didn’t blame her at all.

Althea returned to the pit of vipers that was the VIP room and resumed work, ignoring the heavy gaze of Kiran North for now. A pale blonde man waved her over, and Althea patiently explained some of the ingredients and methods used in the entree course. Apparently, the man was quite impressed and wanted to inform his servants how to make it.

“I doubt that will be necessary, Sol.” North commented. He lifted his empty wine glass towards Althea and gave her an expectant look. Althea’s teeth ground. She grabbed a bottle and went over to North, filling the glass while the pale man questioned lightly,

“Why is that boss?”

“I find myself very pleased with how our meeting has gone today.”

The owner swelled with relief and pride. Althea rolled her eyes.

“We will extend your business all of the protection you need, and you and your son are welcome to join our ranks or remain outside contacts.”

Amadeus looked relieved at this, glancing with distaste at one man at the table that had rolled his sleeves, exposing what must be the mark of this gang. Althea couldn’t see it very clearly, but it seemed to be some kind of flower with a serpent winding around the base.

“As for your side of the deal, I am willing to accept your offer - however, I will also be requesting the services of your Head Chef. I will, of course, compensate you for her loss.”

He nodded towards Sol, who gave Althea a delighted smile and pulled out a leather wallet. She was momentarily speechless with rage, then turned towards her enemy, old and new, ignoring anyone else in the room. The man had definitely gotten what he wanted - Althea’s undivided attention.

“I have no desire to change employers, Mr. North. As flattered as I am by your interest - even if you offered me twice what I make here, it wouldn’t change my mind.”

North’s grin was unbothered until the owner interjected.

“Come now, Althea. Surely you can split your time between the club and Mr. North’s residence?”

Althea ignored the man. She didn’t believe that would be the case at all.

“Ah, I’m afraid I don’t share. I want her as my full-time, live-in personal Chef. As I said, you will be compensated until she can be replaced.”

And there it was. She took a deep breath in, became all-too aware of her exposed state, and snatched Kiran North’s discarded suit jacket from his chair, glaring at him in challenge. She was not going to struggle back into the corset right now. The pretty bastard looked delighted to see her wearing it.

“Father, we can’t just let Althea go. She’s the best Chef we’ve ever had! It would hurt our business to replace her!”

Amadeus sounded, for once, like he actually was thinking about Althea’s skills. There was an undeniably petulant tone to his words though, and he looked longingly over at her. Gross.

The owner seemed conflicted, his eyes darting about the room for long moments, but it was clear to Althea that this was never a real choice.

“Allow me to make this easier on you - I withdraw my request. This is now an order from your boss. You will find a new Head Chef for your business as I will be taking yours.”

A brief glance from North at the other men at the table, and they were all suddenly standing, weapons drawn. Words tasting like acid, Althea turned to North and said shortly:

“I’ll need to stop by my home to gather my things if I’m to be your live-in Chef.”

Those crimson eyes flicked to hers and gradually faded to brown. A small but genuine smile grew across his lips before he inclined his head in a surprisingly gentlemanly way. He seemed to forget about the others in the room entirely, his focus on Althea heavy with pleasure at her agreement. If you could call accepting your kidnapping an agreement.

“Of course. We’ll stop at your place on the way to mine.”

He turned towards her (former) boss and thanked the man for dinner before arranging a future meeting to go over details of their new arrangement. The owner stumbled through his responses, clearly not used to calling someone as young as Kiran North ‘boss’.

“Come, beautiful. It’s getting late.” North placed a proprietary hand on Althea’s lower back and led her out of the club, looking and sounding victorious. Althea wondered at the consequences of poisoning the obnoxiously handsome snake. Considering what he was, it probably wouldn’t work.

Sighing in resignation, she allowed his hand to slip around her waist as the dark sorcerer leaned in close to whisper silkil against her ear.

“You belong to me now, my Althea.”

Didn’t she fucking always?