Lachlan

by D. B. Reynolds

  Lachlan continued his courtly ways, letting her precede him into the hotel to a chorus of various staff offering respectful greetings of “my lord” this and “my lord” that. It was everything she could do not to stop and stare. What the hell? Were they all vampires here? Or could he have some ancient landed title that she didn’t know about?

  One of the staff held an empty elevator for them, reaching in to insert the key card for a penthouse floor with yet another murmured, “My lord.” Julia studied the porter as she walked past him and into the waiting car, but couldn’t find anything to distinguish him as a vampire. Lachlan certainly didn’t offer any clues. He simply nodded at the man, then did what seemingly every person on earth did in an elevator. He went to the back wall, then turned and watched the numbers as the door closed and the car started upward. And if she detected a touch of humor on those sensuous lips, it was probably just her imagination. But there had been that casual implication earlier that he might be a prince or something.

  She decided to go for a direct approach. “I didn’t know Cat’s family was noble.”

  He smiled, but didn’t look away from the numbers. “We’re not.”

  She studied his profile, trying to figure out if he was playing with her. “But then why . . . ?”

  “You mean the lads downstairs.”

  “Well, yes,” she said in frustration. She was no protocol specialist, but she wasn’t ignorant either, especially when it came to simple matters of titles.

  “A couple of the lads here are vampires who’re loyal to me, rather than the current Scottish lord. I’m not currently a vampire lord, but they believe I will be, and so they grant me their respect. The rest of the staff here are sensitive to titles and such, and they follow suit, rather than risk offending me.”

  “Do they know you’re a vampire? The others, I mean.”

  He grinned, still without looking at her. “No.”

  Julia couldn’t help smiling, but managed to swallow it before the elevator opened onto the lush silence of an expensive penthouse lobby. A door opened down the hall as they exited the elevator, and a man stepped out, his eyes skimming over her, before lifting to Lachlan behind her. “My lord.”

  Another one, she thought. But this guy didn’t work for the hotel. Instead of a natty uniform suit, he was dressed much like Lachlan, in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Except that unlike Lachlan, his weapon was carried openly, and he eyed her with suspicious care as they approached.

  “It’s all right, Fergus, Lachlan said. “This is wee Catriona’s friend, Julia.”

  Fergus didn’t look convinced, but he moved back and let her enter the room, waiting until Lachlan followed, before stepping in and closing the door. “Where’s Catriona?” he asked.

  “Off on her own, as always,” Lachlan replied casually. “She stayed only long enough to introduce Julia here, who’s good friends with Cynthia Leighton.”

  Fergus’s glance shifted her way briefly, then back to Lachlan. “And?”

  Lachlan chuckled. “And we’re negotiating. Julia’s American.”

  Julia frowned. What the hell did that mean? “Look, if this is all too much—”

  “Patience. Julia Harper meet Fergus McRae. And don’t take his doubt personally. It’s his job to be suspicious. Julia and I are going to chat, cousin. You can join us—”

  “I’d rather he not.”

  Both vampires turned to stare at her. Lachlan raised his brows in question.

  “Some of the details are . . . personal,” she told him.

  He shrugged. “We can speak in private if you’d like, but I’ll tell Fergus everything anyway.”

  She wasn’t thrilled with that response, but years of experience with bureaucratic bullshit kept both her expression and her words mild. “Then you’re welcome to join the party, Fergus.”

  The cousin gave Lachlan an amused glance and walked to the door, saying, “I’ll be just across the hall.”

  Julia watched him go.

  “You can’t lie to a vampire, you know.”

  She spun at Lachlan’s words. “Who says I was lying?” He scoffed noisily, and she shrugged. “All right, I’ll bite. Why can’t I lie to you? Where I work, lying’s considered normal conversation.”

  “Because vampires have greatly enhanced senses. Hearing, sight, smell. And as normal as you might think you’re acting when you lie, your body knows better. It reacts, and I can detect those reactions no matter how hard you try to conceal them. Unless you’re a sociopath, or a pathological liar.”

  She tilted her head curiously. “I didn’t know that about you. About vampires, I mean.”

  “We don’t publicize our talents.”

  She snorted. “That’s putting it mildly. Your friend Fergus—”

  “Cousin.”

  “Your cousin,” she corrected. “He can still stay if you want, though I’d rather you decide what to share after we talk. Even if you tell him everything, it might be better if he didn’t know where it came from.”

  Lachlan eyed her carefully. “Which agency?” he asked casually.

  Julia didn’t so much as twitch in surprise that he’d narrowed in on her profession correctly. “I work for the State Department, same as your Foreign Ministry, not—”

  “CIA then. You’re not the only ones who play coy, but you all like to pretend you’re foreign trade ministers or some shit.”

  She just looked at him. There were other agencies who did the same, and he probably knew it, too. But she wasn’t going to play that game with him. “My job doesn’t matter. This is personal, and all you need to know is that I want Erskine Ross dead. And since he’s the current Scottish vampire lord, and your people plan on you taking that title, I’m guessing you’d like him dead, too. Which is why you’re telling Cat that you want to talk to Cyn. You don’t want her at all, you want Raphael.”

  He studied her a moment then said, “Have a seat, princess. Let’s be civilized, even if we aren’t.”

  Julia chose to ignore the “princess” comment, for now, and sat on one of two elegant sofas, skirt tucked beneath her thighs, legs together, ankles crossed. She assumed the position without thinking, then immediately wished she hadn’t when she caught him watching. He sat on the sofa across from her, taking up as much room as he could, an arm stretched along the back, and one ankle propped on the opposing knee. She wondered if he’d done it on purpose, to contrast her own tidy posture. Damn it.

  “What do you know about Erskine?” he asked.

  “I know he rules every vampire in Scotland, and—”

  “Not every vampire.”

  She gave him a questioning look. “No? Vampires don’t exactly share, so my information is imperfect, but I thought he was your vampire lord.”

  “Nominally, yes. But not everyone accepts his authority.”

  “You mean you and your McRae cousins?”

  He nodded. “And others. Close allies of McRae who hate Erskine Ross and his lackeys as much as we do.”

  “I know vampires are secretive, but can you tell me how long he’s been in charge?”

  “A hundred and fifty years, give or take.”

  “A hundred and fifty years,” she breathed. “How old is he?”

  “Older than that. Two hundred? Two-fifty? Before my time, anyway.”

  Two hundred and fifty years. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to measure a life in centuries, much less to actually live that long. And not to age. That was the key. She studied Lachlan abruptly. He looked about the same as her own twenty-nine years. Did she dare ask his true age? Maybe she should call Cat instead.

  “Can I assume, then, that you have no objection to me going after Erskine?” she asked.

  He regarded her from beneath half-closed lids. “That might not be good for your health. The
vamp’s an asshole, but he’s not without power. Or supporters.”

  “Which is where you come in.”

  His brows shot up. “Do I? And why would I do that?”

  “Because I can get you to Cyn and Raphael.”

  He made a dismissive noise. “It might be easier for you to call Leighton for me. But if push comes to shove, I can simply call Raphael’s estate myself.”

  “And get the digital equivalent of a switchboard. I can do better.”

  “Maybe. You could also get me dead. What’s your plan?”

  “I’ll tell you that once we agree to work together.”

  “Look, princess—”

  “Julia,” she interrupted to say.

  He smiled. He’d been baiting her again. “Julia. I’m not some sheep herder fresh off the mountain. You want me to help you out, I need to know what I’m signing up for.”

  She considered his response and sighed, knowing she’d have to come clean. “I don’t know exactly. That’s what I need you for. I have a general plan to lure Erskine into what he’ll think is a lucrative financial deal along the lines of what he’s gone after in the past. But as yet, I don’t know enough about how he works to be more specific than that.”

  His eyes crinkled slightly in what might have been amusement. “And once I’ve helped you, and Erskine is dust . . . what then?”

  She blinked, confused for a moment. What then? She hadn’t really thought beyond getting her revenge on Erskine. Not just killing the bastard, but destroying everything he’d built.

  “Someone has to rule Scotland’s vampires when he dies,” Lachlan said quietly. “It’s necessary.”

  “Necessary for whom?” she asked suspiciously.

  “For every vampire in Scotland. It’s not only necessary, it’s vital. You’ll have to trust me on this.”

  “Trust? I don’t—”

  “Look, if you want me to trust you, you’ll have to return the favor. It’s a two-way street.”

  Julia didn’t like it. Didn’t like having no options. Didn’t like her plan being completely dependent on a vampire she’d barely met. But if she was honest with herself—and she liked to think she was—it was more than she’d expected. She’d had a vague plan to engage a disgruntled vampire or two in her scheme, but she hadn’t known when she’d met Catriona this evening that the sexy answer to her prayers was going to walk through the door.

  Wait. Who said anything about sexy? Well, fuck. No, no fuck. Okay, so he was sexy. But that was irrelevant. What mattered was that she needed him more than he needed her, and he knew it.

  “All right. Two-way street. Where do we start?”

  “You tell me everything you know about Erskine Ross. And I want details, including what you said earlier about people he’s killed. Which I take to mean humans,” he added pointedly.

  She bit her lower lip, hating the idea of laying her broken heart on the table for his perusal. Not to mention his cousin’s. But what choice did she have? “I’ll need my research materials,” she said quietly, buying herself another day of privacy. “Can we meet again tomorrow night?”

  “Sure. But we call Leighton tonight.”

  Julia started to protest, then sighed. “Fine.”

  He grinned. “See how easy that was?”

  It didn’t seem easy to her. In fact, it went down like a rock in her throat, but she swallowed it anyway and pulled out her cell. “My phone or yours?” she asked, feeling her chest tighten with stress, even though this was what she’d wanted. She’d plotted and planned for this since she’d been forced to listen while Masoud died thousands of miles away, unable to do anything to stop it. But now that it was really happening . . . . It was as terrifying as it was exciting.

  “Yours,” Lachlan said. “We want Leighton to recognize the caller.”

  She nodded wordlessly, then asked, “Are you going to talk to her?”

  He seemed to think about it. “Depends. Tell her why you’re calling, that I’d like a meeting with Raphael. If she asks to talk to me, I’ll take over.”

  Julia’s spine stiffened at the “take over,” but she didn’t say anything. It wasn’t as if Cyn needed her protection. She did a quick time zone calculation. “It’s afternoon in California. I’m guessing Cyn will need to check with Raphael, so you won’t get your answer tonight.”

  “I’m familiar with the concept of time zones,” he said dryly.

  “All right. You ready?”

  He winked. “I’m always ready,” he deadpanned.

  She feigned a gagging noise and picked up her phone.

  LACHLAN STOOD behind the sofa where Julia sat, listening as she exchanged pleasantries with Cynthia Leighton. She’d put the phone on speaker without being asked, which he’d appreciated. He didn’t want to seem like a paranoid fuck, but his life had taught him to trust very few people. And those few all shared blood or clan, or both.

  Julia had been right about Leighton’s response to her call. Raphael’s mate had answered on the second ring and had seemed very happy to catch up with how things were going in London. So happy that Lachlan was going to lose a few teeth if he didn’t stop clenching his jaw at the unnecessary delay. He was about to grab the phone when she finally got to the point of the call.

  “Listen, Cyn. I met up with Cat tonight, and she brought her cousin with—”

  “Oh, my God, is he as gorgeous as she always said?”

  “Cyn! He’s—”

  She cut herself off at the sound of his choked laughter, which was more about Julia’s response than Leighton’s question. He was fairly certain she’d even paled a few shades. Good thing she was sitting down. She twisted around with a threatening glare, and he wondered how she expected to follow through on that threat . . . and if it involved getting naked. He blinked in surprise at his own thought. Did he really want her naked? Sure, he was attracted, and she was a beautiful woman. But she was also the perfect product of a rich girls’ prep school, with her cool looks and tidy skirts. Did she even know how to get sweaty in bed? He tried to picture her losing control, her clothes hanging half-off, blond strands of tangled hair falling over her shoulders, cheeks pink and glistening with effort while he pounded between her firm thighs to the music of her screaming his name. He smiled at the image, and some of what he was feeling must have shown in his eyes, because her gaze went wide, and she lost track of what she was saying to Leighton.

  “Sorry, Cyn, I almost dropped the phone.” She turned her back to him with a forced laugh, then covered her mouth with her hand and spoke in a hushed voice, clearly not remembering what he’d told her about a vampire’s enhanced hearing, much less that she was still on speaker. “He’s standing right here, so maybe we can discuss that later.”

  “Oh, shit! I didn’t know.” Leighton laughed. “You know he can probably hear every word you’re whispering. I’ve given up trying to keep secrets from my darling vampire. He’s so nosey.”

  “Are you happy?” Julia asked abruptly, and Lachlan’s attention sharpened at the note of . . . was it longing that he heard in her voice? Wistfulness?”

  “Delirious.”

  “I’m glad,” she said, sounding completely sincere. “Anyway, like I said, he’s here with me, and that’s why I’m calling.” She shook her head, as if to clear her thoughts. “He’d like to meet with Raphael to discuss . . . well, I’m not sure what he wants to discuss. He hasn’t shared that part with me. Vampire business, I guess.”

  “So Cat really does have vampire cousins. Huh. I only half-believed her back then.”

  “I think we all did. Shows what we knew.” Julia gave a little laugh. “Anyway, the cousin’s name is Lachlan McRae.”

  “Obviously from Scotland,” Leighton said dryly.

  “More than you know. Anyway, he’s here if you want to talk to him.”


  “No. I’ll check with Raphael first, see what he says. But I’ve got to tell you, Jules, it’s an odd request.”

  “Preaching to the choir. I’m just doing a favor for a friend.”

  “A friend, huh?”

  “I was talking about Cat.”

  “Sure you were,” she snickered. “Okay. Sun’s in the sky, so it’ll have to be later, but one more thing, Jules. If Raphael agrees to meet, it’ll have to be here.”

  Julia glanced up at Lachlan to get his response. He nodded agreement. What choice did he have? If he’d had the power to force Raphael’s hand, he wouldn’t have been going through her in the first place.

  “That would be great, Cyn. Thanks for doing this.”

  “Oh, it’s my pleasure. You know me. I love stirring things up.” She laughed. “Talk to you soon, Jules.”

  Julia disconnected the call, then stared down at her phone for a moment before turning to him. “Was that what you expected?”

  “Pretty much,” he agreed, walking around to sit next to her. “If I got a call like that, I’d be wary, too.”

  “What do you think will happen?”

  “Depends on how much Raphael knows about me, or how much he can find out. He won’t waste time if he doesn’t think I’m worth it.”

  “And are you? Worth it?”

  He eyed her for a long moment, then said with perfect seriousness, “Oh, yeah. Worth every minute.”

  She looked away quickly, but not before he caught the confused expression on her face—a combination of irritation and pleasure. She liked that he was intrigued enough to tease her with sexual innuendos. Well, well.

  She stood abruptly. “It’s late,” she said, then made a hapless gesture with one hand. “Well, not for you, maybe, but I was up for hours last night, dealing with DC. Give me your cell number and I’ll contact you as soon as I hear from Cyn. And then maybe we can get started on your half of the deal.”