by Juniper Hart
Could I only have met Lane yesterday? I feel like I’ve known her forever.
Of course, that was always the way it was with mates.
“Good,” Raven said. “Hurry up. I’m hungry, too.”
“Then order some food,” Henry laughed. “What are you waiting for?”
“Your credit card,” Raven retorted. “How long are you going to be?”
“I’ll be there in forty-five minutes.” He disconnected his Bluetooth and drove on, through rush hour traffic, into the heart of Manhattan.
He was uneasy about how simply Julia had given into his request, but he wasn’t sure that there was anything to worry about. Even though Julia was an Aldwin, she was hardly a practicing witch from what he knew about her. Then again, how much did he really know about her? The rest of the Council was going to have to help fill in the blanks for him.
Lane’s circumstances were strange, to say the least. The fact that she didn’t even have a cell phone of her own was a troubling matter. On a whim, he dialed out to the Council phone in Lane’s possession, eager to hear what the aftermath of his visit had done to Julia, but Lane didn’t answer.
Tomorrow, when she comes to the office, I’ll have her set up with her own phone, he thought. The sooner I release Julia’s hold on her, the better.
He wondered if he had his work cut out for him.
“Your trial’s going to pieces already?”
Henry cast Raven a sidelong look. “Opening statements were postponed until tomorrow. Why?”
“You’re distracted.”
“I’m a lawyer,” he replied flippantly. “It’s in my nature to have my mind in fifty places at once.”
“No, I don’t think that’s it,” Raven said slowly. “It’s something about Lane Aldwin, isn’t it?”
“How could you possibly know that?” Henry demanded, feeling his face growing warm.
“You guys were making googly eyes at each other throughout the entire ceremony.”
“Googly eyes? Really?”
“Well, she was certainly looking at you with stars in her face.”
Henry realized this was his chance to talk about Lane’s delicate predicament. “Did you know that Julia Aldwin has kept her completely out of the loop for two decades?”
Drake muttered something under his breath that Henry didn’t hear.
“What?” Henry demanded.
“The Aldwins have ridden off the coattails of Alaric long enough. Each generation seems more batshit crazy than the last,” Drake said.
“Drake,” Raven snapped warningly. “I think you’ve already had too much to drink.”
“Miriam wasn’t crazy,” Henry denied. “Everyone liked Miriam.”
“You don’t think that there was something presumptuous about her casting that mate spell on everyone without asking permission?” Drake insisted, his blue eyes flashing. “The Aldwins have always overstepped. Julia is no different. We should be grateful we haven’t had to see her running around, crying about the Council for all these years. But I guess that will change now.”
It was clear that Drake didn’t see the irony of him complaining about Julia complaining. Drake was the first to go off about the Council, but Henry had always seen it more as jealousy than anything. It must have been hard for his macho demon blood to be reigned by his mate, who was a dozen times more powerful.
“We owe who we are to the Aldwins,” Raven interjected, nervously looking at Drake. She knew she probably didn’t have much to fear in the way of Henry ratting out her lover’s too-free speaking, but if Drake said something like that to one of the other members of the Council…
“We owe who we are to Alaric, not his successors. If it wasn’t in the rules that one of the Aldwins needed to sit on the Seven, would we really have them on the Council at all?”
Henry glanced at Raven, who had paled.
“Drake,” she growled. “You are not on the Council. I wish you’d remember that.”
It was enough to make him shut his mouth, and Raven seemed relieved that he had stopped talking. Henry took the opportunity to steer the conversation back to Lane.
“I’ve hired her to come and work for me,” he told them. The demon mates gaped at him in shock.
“What?” they chorused.
“Henry, you of all beings know that’s a terrible idea,” Raven said.
“She needs a job,” Henry argued. And to get away from her mother, he added silently.
“And you know what can happen when the Enchanted work under the same roof,” Raven insisted. Henry didn’t need a reminder. It was bad enough that he saw Marjorie every day.
But Lane was different. She was not going to cause trouble for him or the firm. She wasn’t schooled enough in the ways of the Enchanted to fight with him.
And she’s on the Council. There’s no fight. We’re equals in that area.
“Are you doing this to curry favors with her?” Drake asked. “In case there are decisions that need to be made.”
Henry glared at Raven in a way that told her to rein in her unbridled mate. Drake really was becoming too comfortable after such a long time as a Council mate.
“She’s his mate,” Raven answered for Henry.
“No way!”
Raven ignored Drake and turned back to Henry. “Even so,” she sighed. “I don’t think it’s a sound idea, Henry. So many things could go wrong.”
“Nothing is going to go wrong.” Henry’s voice rang with conviction, even if his heart was heavy with wariness. It wasn’t Lane who concerned him—it was Julia.
The sooner I unhinge Julia’s claws from her daughter, the better.
But Henry also knew that he couldn’t afford to make an enemy of Julia Aldwin. The Council maintained order and stability. The Seven were intended to be impartial, not caught up in the middle of chaos. Otherwise, the Council was useless. Yet Henry couldn’t just sit back and watch how things played out with the older Aldwin and Lane.
Not when the time I have with Lane is limited. It was going to be hard enough to convince Lane that they were fated to be together without Julia’s influence.
He cleared his throat.
“I… have a question,” he said tentatively. As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he hadn’t said anything.
Two sets of cerulean eyes peered at him curiously, but Henry shook his head. He already knew the answer to his question. Bringing it up in front of Drake especially was only asking for trouble.
“Are you going to make us guess?” Raven bantered.
“Never mind. I’m exhausted.” He rose from the table, and the couple looked at him in disbelief.
“You can’t be leaving already!” Raven protested. “You just got here!”
“I still have a trial in the morning,” he reminded her, slipping his wallet out of his back pocket and withdrawing his black credit card. “Drink the night away—on me, of course.” He placed the card on the table and downed the last of his beer before grabbing his suit jacket. “Good night, boys and girls.”
He smiled winningly at them, but as he moved away from the table, Raven caught up with him.
“Henry, I’ve never seen you like this. What is on your mind?”
He sighed and shrugged. “I really am beat. It’s been a long couple of weeks. I just want to go home and relax.”
“No,” Raven said slowly. “It’s more than that. You’re thinking about doing something you’re not supposed to do.”
His brow knit into a vee, and he stared at her.
“What do you mean?” he asked innocently, even though he had a bad feeling she knew exactly what was on his mind.
“You can’t turn her, Henry.”
He feigned surprise. “Of course I know that!” he scoffed dubiously. “Why would you ever suggest something like that?”
“Maybe because I’ve known you for over a thousand years,” Raven said, “and I know what goes on in your head probably better than you do.”
“I would never turn
her. That would mean instant death for both of us; no trial, nothing.”
Raven didn’t look reassured. “Henry, I believe she’s your mate too, but you must also know that just because you meet your mate, it doesn’t mean that you’re going to be together.”
“Raven, this conversation really is too heavy for me right now. I appreciate your concern, but I need to head home.”
She opened her mouth to say something else but released a sigh instead.
“Okay,” she muttered. “If you say so.” She pivoted to return to Drake, and Henry stared after her a moment, wondering how she had known what he was thinking.
That is not a question to be asked aloud, he told himself firmly. There is no way to ensure immortality for Lane.
Raven’s other words lingered, too.
What if fate kept him and Lane apart, even after bringing them together?
Too many questions. Too much to consider and not enough sleep, Henry thought to himself. Tomorrow, Lane will be with you, and you can work out the details of your future… after you deal with that murder trial hanging over your head.
Henry left the pub and made his way back to the parking garage on Broadway.
He hoped that Drake and Raven wouldn’t go crazy on the company credit card out of spite. It would be just like the impish demons to do something like that. Not that the Vampire Regent couldn’t afford whatever damage they might cause.
He was parking in his spot in the underground of his condo building, and he sat inside for a moment, collecting his thoughts.
We’ve started something here, Lane and I; something I intend to see through. I may not be able to turn her immortal, but I will not let anyone stand between us now that we’ve found one another.
Henry exited the vehicle, his confidence in the upcoming future vaguely restored. No matter what Raven might think, he and Lane would make it through.
He would just have to keep a better eye on Julia.
10
“How nice,” Julia said casually the following morning. “A stretch limousine. For a receptionist.”
Lane ignored her mother’s biting words and looked out the window where the car had pulled up.
“I better go,” she said nervously, turning to look at herself in the hallway mirror once again to be sure she looked presentable.
“For someone who promised not to get involved with Henry Brandis, you certainly do seem to care about how you look,” Julia snarled. “Oh wait, I forgot—you’re on the side of the Seven now.”
“Mom, I told you—”
“You mean you lied to me,” Julia corrected shortly. “I won’t believe you until I see actions, Lane, though something tells me you’ve already made up your mind.”
“Mom, I swear—”
“ACTIONS, Lane, ACTIONS!”
Lane chewed on the insides of her cheeks. She didn’t much care for being spoken to like a child, but she also knew her mother was frustrated.
“I better go,” she repeated, grabbing for the door handle.
“Have a good day at work!” Julia yelled sarcastically. “I bet you get paid better for being the boss’s mistress, too!”
Lane flushed crimson at the idea that she was being paid to sleep with Henry. It’s true. I can’t get involved with Henry no matter what. Between being on the Council and him being my boss…
Lane realized the hypocrisy of her thought. If not for his affection toward her, Henry wouldn’t have offered her a job in the first place.
The chauffeur raised his cap jovially and opened the car door for her to enter.
“Good morning, Ms. Aldwin. Mr. Brandis has a message for you. He says you are to meet with Sylvie Pendle when you arrive, and she will show you where you need to be.”
Lane gaped at him. “He’s not going to be there?” she demanded.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t know anything else.”
Lane’s eyes darted back toward the house, where her mother glowered from the threshold. Her impulse was to run back and secure herself in the cottage.
No, she decided. This is what you’ve wanted for yourself for as long as you can remember. You already embarrassed yourself at the ceremony. Don’t screw this up. She slid onto a leather seat, and the driver closed the door. You can do this, she told herself. Even if Henry isn’t there.
She hoped she was right.
The building housing the law firm of Brandis, Carter and Ross took Lane’s breath away. She’d never seen such a tall building, but she quickly came to realize she was surrounded by such towering structures in the financial district of New York City.
The bustle of people moving hurriedly through the streets was both unnerving and exhilarating. It took the driver clearing his throat subtly for Lane to realize that she remained frozen in place inside the limo.
“Oh, right,” she mumbled, stepping from the car and onto the sidewalk. “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize, Ms. Aldwin. First days are always nerve-wracking.”
You don’t know the half of it, Lane thought, though she only offered him a smile and a thank you before moving toward the steps leading to the massive entryway.
She’d never felt so small or insignificant in her life.
Inhaling, she forced her feet to move forward.
She stared at the bored security guard at the front, his massive frame nearly encased behind the marble counter.
“May I help you?” he greeted her.
“I… I’m looking for the law offices of Brandis, Carter and Ross.”
“You’re in them. What department?”
Lane’s eyes were huge. “This whole building belongs to the law firm?”
“Yep. Are you looking for someone? I can look them up on the directory.”
“I… Sylvie Pendle?”
The guard frowned and bowed his head toward the computer. “Ah, forty-sixth floor. She’s a paralegal.”
“Thank you,” Lane breathed, her head swimming at the idea of riding up forty-six floors.
“There’s a receptionist on the floor when you get off the elevators,” the guard volunteered when he caught Lane’s dazed look. “Just ask when you get up there.”
“Okay. Thank you.” Lane looked around for something that resembled an elevator, and again, the watchman pointed her in the right direction.
“To the right, ma’am. Do you want me to call her down to meet you?”
“No,” Lane answered. That was the last thing she wanted. She cleared her throat. “No, thanks. I’m just a little disoriented. I need to find my way around, anyway.” She flashed him a quick smile and ducked away before she could humiliate herself further.
Lane didn’t exhale until she was on the lift and riding up to the impossibly high floor.
You’ve got this. She got off on the proper floor, slightly amazed that the elevator had not stopped to pick up anyone else along the way. How many people work in this building?
More than Lane had ever seen in her life, for certain.
There was no one at the reception desk. Of course there wasn’t. That was her job, wasn’t it?
Lane stood awkwardly, hoping that someone would notice her. To her great relief, a blonde woman floated toward her, her full breasts almost falling from the vee cut of her clinging red dress.
Oh, no. I’m dressed like a nun.
Lane wasn’t sure she owned anything resembling what the voluptuous woman before her was wearing. And if she did, she would never get away with wearing it.
“You must be Lane,” the blonde purred. “I’m Sylvie.” She extended a hand decorated with long, fake nails, and Lane took it. “You’re early. That’s good. The bosses pride on good work ethic here—especially Henry Brandis.” She winked alluringly at Lane. “The other partners pride on other aspects of their employees more.”
Lane wasn’t sure what that meant, but she was sure she didn’t like the tone Sylvie was using.
“Come with me. This will be your desk, but there’s some paper work to fill out.”
“Is Mr. Brandis here?”
Sylvie glanced over her shoulder, not slowing her gait, and shook her head. “No. He’s in court. The Winters trial. I’m sure you’ve heard about it. Everyone’s heard about it.”
Lane nodded lightly. She didn’t want to confess that she knew nothing about the Winters’ trial.
Sylvie continued through the floor, nodding at people as they passed. “I’ll introduce you to everyone you need to know later. There’s too much staff here to keep all the names straight.”
“I appreciate it,” Lane said.
“It’s a simple job,” Sylvie went on, leading the way inside a small office she apparently shared with three others, none who bothered to look up when they arrived. “Everyone, this is Lane Aldwin. She’s going to be the new receptionist.”
There were a series of grunting greetings, but no one moved their eyes from the screens.
“Don’t mind them,” Sylvie told Lane. “They’re too self-absorbed to notice a hot chick in the room.” Her words had no effect on her co-workers, and she gestured toward a file folder on her desk. “There are some papers for you to sign,” she said. “No rush. Just have them back to me by the end of the day.”
“If you can’t find her here, you’ll find her in Michael Carter’s office,” a chubby brunette chimed from her spot.
Sylvie’s face puckered into a scowl. “Shut up, Bess.”
The other office workers snickered, and Lane watched as Sylvie’s face turned crimson.
“Come on,” Sylvie said grimly, spinning away. Lane grabbed the folder off the desk and smiled meekly at the others.
“Nice to meet you.”
Another round of groans met her words, and she hurried after Sylvie.
“Tough room,” Lane joked when she caught up to Sylvie.
“They’re a bunch of judgemental asses,” Sylvie replied shortly. She paused and looked at Lane. “Don’t get involved in office politics, Lane, and you’ll do fine. It doesn’t matter what you do as long as you’re happy. Remember that.”