Knights of White Bundle

by Lisa Renee Jones

  He pushed his cup aside and leaned forward, resting his hands in front of him, eyes locked with hers. “I have a better idea. Have dinner with me. We can take a tour before we leave.”

  Surprise flashed across her face. “That’s probably not a good idea,” she said, her voice cautious. But her eyes, her eyes were warm with interest.

  “Do it anyway, Jessica,” Des urged, his voice low, his body raging with the possibilities of having her alone, to himself.

  He told himself this dinner was about the journal and about her safety. Keeping her close while he got what he needed and protected her from the Beasts at the same time. But it was more than that, and he knew it. He wanted to know this woman, as he had never wanted to know another. It was crazy. Nuts. There was no future for them. Nothing but maybe a night of hot passion, and that would be wrong under the circumstances, beneath a veil of lies.

  They sat there, eyes locked, heat simmering between them, as electric as a live charge. Silently, he willed her to answer the way he wanted her to, willed her to want him the way he wanted her. Holding his breath, he waited.

  Finally, she responded. “All right, then. Seven o’clock it is.”

  And with her words, Des decided he could breathe again.

  A few minutes after her sexy potential donor departed, Jessica stepped into Michael’s office and waited for him to finish a phone call.

  To say that Des had taken her by storm was an understatement. Why she’d said yes to dinner when she really had no time for anything but preparing for the party, she didn’t know. Especially considering the blow Greg had just delivered.

  Michael ended his call and Jessica gave him the news. “The caterer has food poisoning.”

  He gave her a blank stare, as if he couldn’t have heard right. “Excuse me?”

  He’d been with the museum for five years, and they’d become fast friends. His immaculate dress and manner went well beyond metrosexual. Not a wrinkle could be found in his blue-and-white pinstriped shirt or his perfectly fitted blue slacks. His tie matched the color of the stripe in his shirt to perfection.

  “What do you mean the caterer has food poisoning?” he asked. “As in, the person coordinating the party?”

  She sank into the chair directly in front of his desk. “I wish it were so simple. The entire staff has it. As in, so sick several people have been hospitalized.”

  “Wait.” He set his pencil down with a precise thud. “You’re telling me the people responsible for providing food to our guests have food poisoning.”

  “Right.” Her lips pursed. “And even if they recover in time for the event, they don’t know what caused it. What if they give our guests food poisoning?”

  “The party is Saturday!”

  “I know. Believe me, I know. The good news is the owner feels horrible and has offered to do everything he can to help, including working the event himself. He’s available to meet with our replacement service and help pull it all together.”

  “Unbelievable. Truly unbelievable. And everything was going so well. Beautifully, in fact.” He straightened, clearly ready to dig in to finding a solution. Michael never dwelled on the negative. “Okay, then. What options do we have?” He grabbed the phone book. “I better start making calls now. No doubt we’ll pay a hefty fee and settle for tasteless, premade nonsense to pull off a last-minute miracle.” He grimaced. “We’re really going to be settling on the quality of food. There’s no way around it.”

  “No need for calls.” She slid a card across the desk. “Greg says he lined up a new company himself. He assures me they have already talked to our current provider and are pooling resources.”

  Michael ran a hand over his clean-shaven jaw and cast her a dark blue, disbelieving look. “What am I missing here? So Mr. ‘Never lifts a finger’ lined up a new service on his own?”

  “I’m sure he wants to tell the board he saved the day. Besides, he didn’t offer to do the work. He came in, gave me this and left for some meeting. It’s all on us to fix this.”

  Agreement flashed in his eyes. “That sounds like the Greg I know.” He snagged the card. “We have a tiny window of time to deal with this. Is he even sure this place can handle something of this magnitude so quickly?”

  “He insists they can, and in fact are already in action. Of course, he wants us to deal with the arrangements.”

  Michael snorted. “All the glory and none of the hard work. So fitting of Greg. I have to tell you, those months you were gone were hell. I had no buffer to bear his obnoxiousness.”

  She gave him a fake smile. “So glad I can be a buffer for you, though I must remind you I endured those days with you. Your phone calls were many.”

  “You know you loved staying in touch with this place. Speaking of needing a buffer,” he added, “I saw your father charge past the reception desk earlier. I assume you got the brunt of his frustration?”

  “Oh, yes,” Jessica agreed. “I’d barely escaped a bunch of insurance people who showed up to protect their investment in the journal when he appeared. And he was livid, of course.” Her voice softened as she thought of his reasons. “But then, I don’t blame him. He’s worried about the journal. It’s so a part of my mother to him.”

  “And to you, too,” Michael said, his expression knowing. “No amount of insurance money would replace the sentimental value it represents. Or the history for that matter.”

  “Exactly,” she said and sighed, her shoulders slumping a bit. “The idea that someone tried to steal the journal is unsettling.”

  “Tried is the operative word here. The journal is secure inside the museum. You know that.”

  She smiled at him. “You’re right, of course. That’s what I told my father, too.”

  “Why do I sense a but?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve got this strange sense of unease.”

  “Who wouldn’t, considering the crisis at hand?” He indicated the business card. “I’ll deal with the new catering service. You take care of whatever else you need to.”

  “Thank you.” Jessica pushed to her feet, reaching for the lightheartedness she didn’t feel. “You really are the perfect man for me.”

  He gave her a bright, white smile. “Watch out, now. If I don’t find a man soon, I might just go straight.”

  She laughed, though it held an empty quality and she knew it. This party was important to her. Too important to allow it to go sour. It was about more than her job. It was about raising money to fight the illness that had taken her mother’s life, and about celebrating her mother’s life’s work.

  Jessica squared her shoulders. The party would be a success. She wouldn’t allow it to go any other way. But even as she played those positive words in her head, a flutter of warning settled in her stomach. A really bad feeling that refused to be ignored.

  A feeling that grew worse as her day continued.

  Segundo sat in the comfort of a hotel room, an expensive leather chair framing his long, muscular body. Watching. With a glass of expensive merlot in hand, he watched two female servants pleasure the human male. As executive director of the museum housing the Journal of Solomon, Greg Ward was proving to be a perfect target for manipulation. A perfect tool to lead him to the power he thirsted for. To lead him to the bloodlines so he could destroy them, and then be rewarded for his great achievement.

  As Adrian’s second-in-charge, Segundo had perks, of course. He had his own army of demon foot soldiers, not to mention a multitude of pleasures at his beck and call. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He wanted what his master, Adrian, possessed. He wanted to wield the magic Adrian held within him. And he wanted the favor of Cain, King of the Beasts in the Underworld.

  Segundo thought of the failed attempt to steal the journal, and anger became a flame burning hot. He threw his glass against the headboard.

  The glass shattered and Greg bolted upright to a sitting position. “What are you doing?! You scared the hell out of me.”

  “You’ll soon see
hell if you aren’t careful.” He ground his teeth together. “What progress have you made at the museum?”

  “Nothing to worry about,” Greg assured him. “Everything is going as planned. The catering company is out. My men will be in.”

  “How can you be certain the caterer will be replaced with your friend’s company?”

  One of the women sat up and started pawing over Greg, her hands caressing his body. Greg glanced at her, a smile playing on his lips. “I’m the boss,” he said, as if he were talking to the woman. Then, he looked at Segundo. “They’ll do what I say they do.”

  Segundo’s body thrummed with excitement at how close he was to success. So much so, he could almost forget his irritation over the human’s misplaced arrogance.

  “How can I be sure you’ll do as you promised?” Greg asked, his words laced with cockiness, with demand.

  Segundo would have shoved the human’s words down his throat and made him choke on them if he weren’t amused by the question. A slow, evil smile slid onto his lips. Him? Keep a promise? Never. Soon enough, Greg would know this all too well.

  Segundo’s eyes traveled from one woman to the next before he fixed Greg in a hard stare. “You’re in bed with your proof. They will do anything you ask of them, but they do it because I say so. Once you convert, you will own such power. Then, and only then, you will drink of their blood and control their minds.”

  Greed flashed in Greg’s dark eyes. “Let me get this straight. I’ll be able to make any human do anything I say? Give me anything I want?”

  Segundo narrowed his gaze on the man. He needed to be clear with Greg, to be sure he knew who was in charge. Segundo had shown nothing but his human mask to this point. It was long past time Greg got to know his “Beast.”

  Willing his primal side to show, Segundo’s adrenaline surged with the rush of transition to his natural form. He was stronger this way. Better. His face was now half Beast, ugly and distorted. His teeth grew long and one eye glowed yellowish-red. Greg gasped and shoved back against the headboard, his own eyes going wide. The two women laughed.

  “I warn you, Greg Ward,” Segundo told him. “If you fail me, you will regret it. I’ll do more than watch you burn in hell. I’ll burn every inch of your body, piece by piece.” He let the words linger. “And I will laugh as you cry out for mercy that will never come.”

  With those words, Segundo stormed to the connecting room and slammed the door behind him. Two of his Beasts stood at the window overlooking the hotel. Both operated surveillance equipment, both cloaked in human form, wearing human clothing.

  He had ten men in his Servidor Unit ONE, all loyal to him, not Adrian. Not that any Beast felt loyalty to Adrian. Most simply feared his magic, his pure evil, enough to obey him.

  U1 snarled and straightened, switching his attention from the telescope he was looking through to Segundo. “One of the Knights just started up the stairs leading to the museum.”

  Segundo cursed under his breath and stomped toward U1, then shoved him aside to look through the telescope. He fixed his gaze on the Knight entering the building, and ground his teeth. He knew this one. Knew him all too well. He was the “Second” among the Knights, Segundo’s equal.

  He leaned back, ignoring the view, thinking. Frustration eased with a realization, a slow smile turning up his lips. How damn appropriate was this? He’d take out the “Second” of the Knights and steal the journal. Cain would be pleased. Adrian would fall, for sure.

  Without warning, flames erupted in the room and Adrian appeared. He wore their battle gear—a black vinyl-like uniform that couldn’t be touched by a blade. His dark blond hair was free around his shoulders, his black eyes tinged with red around the rims, a sign he was feeling impatient. That he was ready to inflict pain.

  Segundo stood at attention. He might aspire to take Adrian’s power, but he was no fool. Right now, his master could kill him with a flash of magic.

  U1 and U2 stood at attention, their beastly side showing—their faces now half animal, half human. The Beast side bore one larger eye, longer hair, gruesome facial features. The display of their Beast side reflected submission.

  Segundo had earned the right to hide his beast any time Adrian did not show his, one of the rewards Adrian offered his second-in-charge. One day he’d have Adrian’s power. He’d have the ability to orb in fire. To bring a Beast to his knees with a mere wave of his hand. Soon, he silently vowed. Very soon.

  “Where is my journal?” Adrian demanded.

  “You will have the journal,” Segundo proclaimed. He knew how Adrian worked. If he showed even a hair of doubt, of insecurity, Adrian would pull him from this job. “I will not fail you.”

  Adrian disappeared and reappeared directly in front of Segundo, his hands by his sides, fingers spread, a charge of power crackling from his fingertips. Segundo’s heart kicked up a beat, and he reached deep and warned himself to calm down. Behind him, U1 and U2 were oozing fear, damn near screaming it aloud. And damn it, Adrian fed off fear.

  Segundo had to focus Adrian on himself to avoid an explosive situation, to keep his men from Adrian’s wrath. Shielding his unit from Adrian helped retain their loyalty.

  “All who get in the way, they will die,” Segundo declared.

  Adrian’s eyes narrowed, the red glint darkening. “Do not fail me, Segundo.”

  Segundo’s eyes met Adrian’s glare, showing none of the fear he felt, pressing his hatred to the surface. Hatred was a thing Adrian understood, even encouraged. “I will not fail you, Master.”

  For several seconds, those red eyes fixed on him and Segundo didn’t dare blink. Then Adrian’s hands lifted, fingers splayed wide at U1 and U2, electricity spilling from the tips as he shocked their bodies.

  Segundo didn’t dare move, didn’t dare protest. When his Beasts fell to the ground, brought to their knees by pain, Adrian released them.

  “If you fail me, you will watch each Beast in your unit suffer. But you, my Second, will feel far more pain than all of theirs combined.”

  Fire consumed Adrian as he spoke the final word and disappeared. Segundo didn’t move at first, frozen in his stance, anger burning a hole in his gut.

  He whirled on his Beasts, frustrated to see them still on their knees. Adrian might cause him pain, but Segundo didn’t dare allow his master the reward of seeing him crumble.

  “Get up!” he shouted. “Act like the Beasts that you are!” He fixed them both in a hard stare as they pushed to their feet. “Now get back to work. We have Knights to kill and a journal to steal.”

  Chapter 4

  Des watched as the receptionist packed her things into her briefcase for the night. He’d been in the lobby a good thirty minutes waiting for Jessica, ready to take her on their dinner date.

  “I can’t believe she isn’t answering her pages.” Rebecca stared at him a thoughtful moment before rounding the desk. “Come on.” She motioned toward the elevator. “We’ll go find her.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Des commented, offering her an appreciative smile.

  Before they could depart, Jessica rounded the corner, looking frazzled. Her hair was a bit wild, as if she’d been running her fingers through it, her lipstick gone, her eyes tired. And still, she was the most beautiful woman Des had ever seen.

  “I’m so sorry,” Jessica said, her eyes meeting his, the impact intense. “I was in an area where I couldn’t hear the intercom. A security guard found me and told me Rebecca was paging me.”

  Des felt their shared look in an unexplainable way. Potent and all-consuming, her emotions wrapped around him as they had earlier that day, claiming him as if they were his own. He sensed her need for support, for comfort. The need to give her these things went well beyond simple good manners and he couldn’t begin to understand why.

  He cast her a warm look, his voice soft and full of concern. “Don’t worry on my behalf.” He glanced at Rebecca. “Thanks for taking such good care of me. Will I see you at the party, then?”
r />   Rebecca beamed. “I was more than happy to help, and yes, I’ll be at the party.”

  “Ready for the tour?” Jessica asked.

  “I am,” Des said. “Unless you need to take care of other things first? I can wait, if you like.”

  “Actually, getting away from it all for a bit will do me good.”

  “If you’re sure,” he said. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  They started walking toward the elevator and arrived just as the doors opened. A slim, immaculately dressed, blond man appeared, relief washing over his aristocratic features as his gaze settled on Jessica.

  “Oh, thank God, I found you.” He held up a folder. “We need to review the new menu for the party.”

  A look of distress flashed across Jessica’s face and she glanced at Des. He didn’t give her time to speak. Didn’t want her to fret another second on his behalf.

  “Why don’t I go pick up food and bring it back,” he suggested. “You can review what you need to while I’m gone. Then we can talk a little business while we eat. No rule says the tour has to be right this minute.”

  Jessica looked torn. “I…No. Your donation is valued. I don’t want you to feel you’re not important.”

  “I don’t,” he said. “It’s clear my trip was poorly timed.”

  “I’m sorry,” the man from the elevator said, stepping into the hall beside them. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He smiled at Des and offered his hand. “I’m Michael Wright.”

  Des accepted his hand, sensing Michael to be trustworthy. “Des Smith. Nice to meet you, Michael, and you’re not interrupting. In fact, I’d be happy to pick up some food for you as well.”

  Michael’s eyes filled with approval. “That’s quite generous of you.”

  “Too generous,” Jessica inserted. “I’m sure the menu is fine, Michael. I trust you.”

  Des reached out and gently touched her shoulder, drawing her gaze. “Look at the menu so you can put your mind at ease.” Not giving her time to argue, he addressed Michael again. “Can you suggest a good place to pick up takeout?”