The Billionaire's Heir (Sucubus For Hire Book 1)

by Michael Don Anderson

  “No.” Mansfield suddenly seemed to understand. I could practically see the lightbulb over his head. “He’d look for ways to destroy them.”

  I nodded. A bit more extreme than I was thinking. But good to know. “We’ve got to have faith that Vincent’s still alive and well. Today isn’t over. Not yet. Now, schedule me for tomorrow. Early. I’ll keep following up on my leads.”

  “Paul said I should trust you. That you’re that good.” The attorney seemed impressed by that fact.

  The non-sequitur took me a moment to process. Paul? Oh. Chandler. “He say anything else?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t think you’ll like it.”

  I paused to stare at him. “Let’s have it.”

  “He said you might be more woman than he can handle.”

  I cocked my head to the side. “Can or could?”

  “What?”

  “Did he say ‘can handle’ or ‘could handle?’”

  Mansfield searched his memory. “Oh. ‘Could,’ I guess.”

  “High praise indeed.” I smiled and strode to the end of the hall. He didn’t follow. I’d confused him too much.

  Blake finally called to me as I reached the elevator doors “Wait, what’s the difference?”

  “One suggests he already thinks he owns me.”

  “The other?”

  “That he might like to get to know me better.”

  The elevator arrived. I stepped inside, turning to face Mansfield as I pressed the lobby button. I smiled at the man as the door closed. More delighted by his confusion than the fact that an MI-6 operative might fancy me.

  Even with that protective totem, dating a human could only lead to trouble. Dating someone in an intelligence agency, that was worse.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Janet was fretting, waiting in front of my office building when I arrived. My hand went for my gun automatically. “What’s wrong, Janet?”

  “Mrs. Rodriguez broke down into tears twice rambling in Spanish. They’re terrified. I couldn’t sit there listening anymore.” She took a moment to see all the bandages on my face. Along my exposed arm. “What happened to you?”

  “Nothing.” I didn’t want to add to her anxiety. And that’s got you all up in a tizzy?”

  She stared at the injuries for several hard seconds before finally deciding that they weren’t the priority. “Did you do something to the boy?”

  I blinked. Then laughed. “What’s wrong with you? You were here the whole time. I was on my best behavior.”

  “Then why do they act like you’ve done something awful?”

  I frowned. The Rodríguezes weren’t technically friends. More like close acquaintances. I thought they liked me. Trusted me. Despite the horns.

  They were waiting for me in my office when I entered. The wife was sitting. The husband paced back and forth. They moved closer together like a choreographed dance at seeing me.

  Seraphina practically sobbed as she pleaded with me. “Please, Miss Bianca, don’t take my boy.”

  I froze, glancing back through the office door. Janet watched me. Disapprovingly. Like I’d lied. I was hurt and not in the mood.

  “What is wrong with everyone today? Why would you think I’d hurt Luis, Seraphina?”

  “He’s still just a boy. Not a man. Please, no take him!”

  Pablo hugged his wife to his side. He wasn’t crying. Only trembling with fear. Anger lurked under that fear. “I punish him. Whatever he done! Don’t kill him.”

  I opened my mouth to say something scathing. Then closed it again. I took a breath and counted to three before responding. No sense in letting a near death experience make me nasty towards them. “I’m not planning on killing, Luis. Or hurting him. Why would you think such a thing?”

  Seraphina’s arms reached out to me from a distance, clutching at the air as if beseeching me to stop. “He say you ask him to come. He ascared at dinner last night. Juana say he in trouble with you.”

  “I made a business deal with him. That’s all. I need goats. He’s going to provide them.”

  Pablo nodded violently. Refusing to look higher than my waist. “I bring you goats. Many many goats! As many as you like!”

  “You’re not hearing me.” I spoke slowly, like Chris Tucker in Rush Hour. Maybe it was a little derisive, but better than yelling at them. “I’m not angry at Luis. I’m not going to hurt him.”

  Seraphina half-stood, then dropped back down. Dragged into Pablo’s embrace even tighter by his strong arms. “But Juana say he did something bad. I know you punish people who are bad. My boy, he no bad.”

  “I had a talk with Luis, yes. But listen to me!” I practically shouted and Seraphina whimpered in response. I gentled my voice. “Sorry. But please. Listen. I would never hurt your children.”

  “You no threaten Luis?” asked Pablo with a hard swallow. A father wanting to protect his child.

  “Well, I might’ve threatened him a little. But I didn’t threaten to kill him.”

  They stared at me like lost sheep. I sighed, avoiding another glance at Janet. I could already feel her mood across the room.

  “Look, I just asked him to treat women with respect. Is that any different from what you teach him?”

  “N—no,” stammered the mother.

  “And honestly, I’m not mad at him. I don’t plan on hurting him. I just wanted him to take me seriously.”

  Pablo glanced from Seraphina to my lips with hope. “You no kill our boy? You swear?”

  “I don’t swear. But I give my word.” I sat in my chair hard. Sagged with an emptiness I hadn’t felt in a long time. “I only wanted him to be respectful to his family.”

  “He is! He very respectful!” Pablo nodded his head so hard I worried he might have an aneurism.

  “Then he’s safe. We’re all friends here. I’ve watched your children grow up for years. Why would you think I’d suddenly want to hurt them?”

  Pablo didn’t respond. Seraphina was taking huge gulps of air. Trying to regain her composure. Finally she answered with trepidation. “Because he no more a child. I think he not a man. He might baby always. But he a man.”

  I frowned. Uncertain what she meant. “So?”

  “In Mexico, we hear of a devil-woman like you. She take the eldest hijo of each family and—it is the death sex.”

  “Why did people let her do this?” I ignored the devil-woman comment. They were scared. Maybe that’s even how they really thought of me, deep down. But they’d treated me like it wasn’t. I was willing to forgive the moment.

  Pablo answered. Squeezing his wife’s shoulders as she clung to his wrist. “She protect them from banditos. Drug runners. The government.”

  “All in exchange for their young men?” I grew angry. Not at them. Maybe a little. For being weak. Letting any creature prey on their children. It was offensive to me. “I’d have killed her and dealt with the other problems as they came up.”

  “You kill your own kind?” Seraphina made the sign of the cross.

  “I’d want anyone evil punished. Taking your young men is evil. I would never take Luis from you.”

  “You hear her. She give her word.” Seraphina was pleading to someone in the doorframe. I glanced over, expecting it to be Janet. It was FBI agent Olivia Wisniewski. Badge visible in one hand.

  “I did.” Wisniewski eyed me suspiciously.

  “And I keep my word. So, Pablo, Seraphina, please. Go home. Relax. This was all just a misunderstanding.”

  With a witness in the room, Pablo gained courage to press me. “We tell Luis he safe?”

  I wanted to state a condition. That as long as he treated women, including his sister and mother with respect, he was safe. But it would only confirm that I’d threatened him. Not to kill him. Just enough to scare. In front of the FBI. Not a good idea.

  “Tell him I’m pleased with his help. That should reassure him.”

  The Rodríguezes clung to each other as they left. Another relationship with me broken. Janet�
��s I-told-you-so expression wasn’t even necessary this time.

  “Agent Wisniewski, what can I do for you?”

  “Should I know something?” She eyed the fleeing couple meaningfully.

  “I was trying to help their son stay on the straight and narrow. I might’ve overplayed my hand.”

  She took a seat opposite me and smiled. “It’s rare that I meet someone capable of admitting their mistakes. At least, without evidence to shake in their face.”

  “I believe in the truth.. Besides, if I own my mistakes, I can own learning from them.”

  “Whatever. I wanted to follow-up with our conversation with Mr. Gibraltar. Did you overplay your hand with him, too?”

  I stared at the woman. “What do you mean?”

  “He seemed pretty scared of you. Kept repeating how you had his complete cooperation.”

  I laughed. Bitterly. I’d been tired when I’d come into the office. I was exhausted after that emotional confrontation with Pablo and Seraphina. I’d honestly liked them. My request for an invitation to Juana’s quinceañera had been sincere. Guess I wasn’t going to scratch that off my bucket list.

  “Look, Wisniewski, I don’t know why he’d be afraid. I told him that I didn’t stand much chance of finding Vincent without his cooperation. Hardly an intimidation.”

  She considered my answer. “Maybe it was his way of saying talk to you?”

  “Nice try. But anything he wanted you to know, he’d have said.”

  She nodded and took a moment to look at the minimal decorations in my office. Finally she came across the picture of Martini I had framed on the desk.

  “Snow Bengal?”

  I nodded. Surprised. “Seal lynx. You know your cats.”

  “I’m allergic as hell. But I can’t resist ‘em.” Her focus shifted back to me. “I know you think that if you work with me, I’ll take all the credit and leave you in the dark. But a boy’s life is at stake.”

  “Absolutely. I’d never leave out anything or do anything that might keep us from bringing him home alive.”

  She tapped a finger on her badge. Thinking. “What am I missing here? Why the preternatural diversity fest?”

  “I don’t follow.”

  She settled into the comfortable chair. Smiling despite herself. “Fine. Let’s make it simple. Start at the end and work backwards. Why hire you to help find Vincent?”

  I pursed my lips together. “You’re in confidentiality territory.”

  “Nothing at all?”

  I leaned forward. “Fine. I’m a good PI. I admit, I wondered why the overkill. FBI. Police. Amperdyne security doing their own investigation.”

  “And?”

  She was law enforcement. Withholding information on the case could cost me my license. Even though I’d discounted the Atlantic Street Revenants from my list of suspects, nothing was certain. I’d been forbidden from mentioning them unless I had proof. I didn’t.

  “As a succubus, I have certain abilities. Immunities. Things that might be useful.”

  “You mean the werewolf couldn’t hurt you?”

  “Of all the preternaturals I’ve encountered, I suspect a werewolf is one of the most dangerous. Maybe I can’t be infected, but I can be torn apart by claws and fangs. They can definitely hurt me.”

  “You’re trying to be helpful. Okay, I can play the game. If not a werewolf, something else preternatural? Another succubus?” I sighed and she laughed. “I was kidding. I know you met with the Atlantic Street Revenants last night.”

  “How?”

  “A tail. Two plainclothes agents.”

  I didn’t smile. “You have a warrant for that?”

  “Preternatural Act doesn’t require a warrant for public surveillance. Why, you have something to hide?”

  “Like most Americans, I value my privacy.” I felt a tingle of pride as I said ‘American.’ Earning citizenship had been hard. Knowing I belonged by birth felt empowering.

  Wisniewski took my silence as confirmation.. “So the vampires are involved somehow.”

  “That much I can respond to. No. At least, I don’t think so. They don’t have a motive.”

  “I wouldn’t think so. If they have the boy, automatic daylight savings for the whole coven.”

  “Daylight savings?”

  “Daylight saves us the work of staking them.” She smiled. I didn’t. “Take the stick out of your ass, Savage. It was funny.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I’m trying here. Don’t have to be a bitch about everything.”

  I bobbed my head, staring at the desk. Ran my fingers along the wood. Counting to three. Someday I’d have to count higher than I ever had. Not today.

  “I’m preternatural, Olivia. When you suggest that killing preternaturals somehow serves society, just because they’re preternatural? That doesn’t take me to my happy place.”

  “Fine. You’re right. Maybe we’re both being bitches. Truce?”

  “I thought we were on a truce.”

  “Okay. A better truce then?”

  “I can try if you will.”

  We sat in silence again. I wished I had another bottle of that Moscato. I wanted the bubbles to tickle my palate. Give me a moment’s respite from a really crappy day.

  “How sure are you that the vampires aren’t involved?”

  “They’ve tried to cooperate. Amperdyne has checked them out and found nothing. And like I said, their motive doesn’t exist. Just the opposite. They’d like a chance for legitimacy. Kidnapping isn’t the way to start that.”

  “But they’re why Gibraltar hired you at first?”

  I shrugged but my eyes sparkled with the answer. I changed the subject. “What about Thrace? Any idea why he was taken?”

  “There wasn’t a ransom demand for the boy. Now the bodyguard? Amperdyne sucks as security so far. We’ll probably find them both dead and dumped in the next few days. Someone wanting to intimidate Gibraltar. Or maybe hurt him.”

  I shrugged, a slight shake of my head revealing my opinion. “In fairness to Amperdyne, they weren’t protecting Thrace. He was supposed to be protecting Gibraltar”

  “Fair point. So let’s keep going backwards. Gibraltar hires you because he thinks vampires might be involved. Don’t worry. You didn’t tell me. Confidentiality protected. But that makes total sense.” She winked and rolled my eyes. “What?”

  “I’m maintaining my confidentiality. You discovered the vampire connection on your own. A wink sort of implies I broke my word to tell you something.”

  “Oh. Right. But you hinted that you were brought in because of preternaturals.”

  “That’s a pretty generic fact.”

  Her expression soured as she realized the implication. “So you were only meant to keep which preternaturals a secret. If I hadn’t had you followed, you wouldn’t have mentioned them.”

  “Unless I found evidence pointing in their direction. Conjecture doesn’t rise to the standard of reporting. I know the law, Wisniewski.”

  “Alright, alright. Back to the simplification. Why Anton Thrace? Why hire a dangerous monster?”

  I glared at her. Ineffectual because of my glasses. Eventually she got the idea and waved her hands in the air. “Sorry. I’ve seen some brutal werewolf murders.”

  “Someone was murdering werewolves?” I asked blandly.

  She opened her mouth to correct me then smirked. “Okay. I had that coming. You’re smart and funny for a broad that never smiles.”

  “Broad?”

  “Caught an old Mae West film last night before I fell asleep. Love her sass.”

  “Her what?”

  Wisniewski frowned. “You heard what I said.”

  “I did. I love her sass as well. Admittedly, ‘broad’ implies strength and substance. Women have been called much worse.”

  “Back to the case?”

  I gave her a look. “You brought up Mae West.”

  “For pity’s sake, stop!”

  I grinned. “No
w I feel better. Back on point. He hired Thrace because he wanted someone who could survive an attack. Someone who’d be loyal to Gibraltar. Because Hank had been loyal to him.”

  “I read the report on Thrace. Gay. Kicked out of his pack. Dates casually. Never anything serious. And never near the full moon.”

  “All good monsters try to know their own weak points.”

  She glared at me. She thought I was fucking with her. “You just got mad when I said monster.”

  “I didn’t mean it pejoratively. Besides, it’s an ingroup thing.”

  She considered my words a moment. Finally shrugging without defensiveness. “You mean like gays can call each other ‘fags’ because they’re gay.”

  “Aren’t you enlightened. It’s still derogatory. But the hate aspect is mitigated.”

  “That’s right. You majored in psychology in college, didn’t you.” She eyed me shrewdly. “Wanted to better understand the humans you live beside?”

  “I’ll try not to take offense to that question.” I glanced at the clock. “Can we speed this up? While I’m hopeful that Vincent is still alive, every day that passes without finding him lowers the odds.”

  “Any real suspects? Do you know anything that might help us help you find them?”

  I hesitated. “You know someone tried to blow me up earlier.”

  She looked startled. “You were involved in that Gibraltar explosion?”

  “I’m confident I was the target. It almost got me, too.”

  “Why?”

  The same question Blake Mansfield had asked. I still didn’t have an answer. I wasn’t going to throw Rhoda under the bus no matter how much she hated me. Not without proof.

  “I think someone knows I talked to the CIA. I mean, it’s a guess. A stretch even. But it’s the only thing I can think of.”

  “We got the report and I glanced it over. Amperdyne techs confirmed what our own people found. Generic gunpowder residue. Basically a homemade pipe bomb. Nothing to help us figure out who planted it.”

  I nodded. “And these days, anyone can find a video online on how to make a bomb.”

  “Exactly.” Wisniewski frowned suspiciously. “Why’d you reach out to the CIA?”