by Lynsay Sands
"I wonder why she didn't give it to your mother," he said thoughtfully.
"Perhaps she forgot," Elspeth said with a shrug, setting the wallet back in the bag and closing it, but keeping the bag on her lap.
"Like I forgot entering Gran's apartment and going to bed that night?" he asked dryly, and when she glanced at him with surprise, he said, "I remember getting into the passenger seat of this SUV and Rachel getting in behind the wheel, and then I was suddenly very tired. The next thing I recall is waking up midmorning yesterday, on top of the covers of my bed in the guest room at Gran's."
"Rachel probably carried you in and put you to bed rather than wake you," Elspeth said, and didn't mention that the woman would have had to slip into his mind to make sure he didn't wake up during the maneuver. She did wonder, though, why Rachel had done that.
Probably to avoid his being a party to whatever her mother might have said when they'd brought her and Wyatt home, Elspeth decided. Martine would have raised a ruckus, she was sure, which made her glad neither of them had been awake for it. She'd have to thank Rachel the next time she saw her for keeping Wyatt from witnessing that. And apologize to her for having to suffer it herself. Although Rachel was married to Elspeth's cousin, Etienne, and as family she would have known what to expect from Martine. Still, she really needed to apologize to her, Elspeth thought on a sigh. But she would probably get the chance soon. Etienne was one of Marguerite's sons, and if she knew her aunt Marguerite, the woman would have them all together for a gathering once she knew Mother and the twins were here.
Noting their surroundings, Elspeth said, "The next exit is the one we want."
"Right." Wyatt put the blinker on and maneuvered into the outside lane.
They had taken the off-ramp and were driving up the road leading to the street where the Enforcer House was when Wyatt suddenly announced, "Valerian and Tybo were surprised to hear about your getting stabbed."
"I haven't seen them since before I was stabbed and hadn't told them. I guess Mortimer hadn't either," Elspeth said absently as she took note of the rural routes they were passing. "You want to take a right onto that next crossroad."
Wyatt slowed down and put his blinker on.
"So, who tattled?" she asked as he took the turn. "You or G.G.?"
"G.G. told them while Rachel was wrapping his ribs," Wyatt said quietly.
Elspeth winced, guilt assailing her again at the thought of her hurting the dear man. She'd always liked G.G. and wouldn't purposely have hurt him for the world.
"I don't think he meant to tattle. Neither of us realized it was supposed to be a secret."
"It wasn't," she said at once, and then added, "I just wish I'd been able to tell them myself so they didn't get the wrong idea. It's not a big deal and nothing they need worry about." Gesturing to the gated driveway ahead on their left, she added, "That's where we're going. Just pull up to the gate and roll down your window. One of the guys will come out."
Wyatt slowed again, and then said, "I think you're probably the only one who doesn't think it was a big deal. At least, Tybo and Valerian seemed concerned about you."
"Of course they did," she muttered as he put on the turn signal.
"I don't blame them. I'm worried too," he added solemnly.
Eyebrows rising, Elspeth glanced to him with surprise as he turned into the driveway. "Why?"
"Why?" he asked with disbelief. "Are you kidding?"
"Roll down your window," she reminded him as he drew the car to a halt. "And no, I'm not kidding. There's nothing to worry about."
"Of course there's something to worry about," he countered impatiently as he hit the button to roll down the window. "You were stabbed in the morning two days ago, and pushed under a car that same evening. I'd say that's reason to worry."
"Sounds worrisome to me too."
Elspeth had been staring at Wyatt with stunned disbelief at the news that she'd been pushed into traffic that night, but now glanced past him to the man who had come out to greet them. With dark hair, and deep brown eyes with bronze flecks in them, the man was peering through the car window, his gaze sliding from her to Wyatt with displeasure.
"Hi, Uncle Francis," she greeted him with a forced smile. "How are you?"
"Worried about you, now," he said dryly and then raised his eyebrows and asked, "Who is it you pissed off?"
Elspeth rolled her eyes, and then a wry smile caught her lips and she said, "The only person who comes to mind is my mother."
"Ohhh." Wincing, he wrinkled his nose. "She's a scary woman, but she's more likely to smother you to death than stab you."
"Tell me about it," Elspeth said on a sigh.
Francis smiled and then glanced to Wyatt with interest. "So, is this the life mate Tybo and Valerian were talking about?"
Elspeth's eyes widened with dismay. "He--I--"
"Yes," Wyatt said over her stammering, and when she turned on him with shock, he shrugged. "G.G. said you couldn't read or control me. Apparently, that means we're life mates."
"Damn," Elspeth breathed, suddenly feeling a little less guilty about hurting the giant while she was insensate. How could G.G. tell Wyatt that he was her life mate when he knew she wasn't even sure she wanted one?
"Trust me, Elspeth. It is something you want. A life mate is a gift from God, and finding them is a blessing."
Elspeth stared at Francis. He'd been sending her his thoughts. She'd heard the words, but his lips hadn't moved. Aloud he added, "Besides, Wyatt here has some hot little thoughts about you floating around in that head of his. They're delicious. If I were you I'd take him right up to one of the bedrooms and let him show you the benefits of having a life mate."
"Oh, God," Elspeth muttered and flopped back in her seat, her eyes closing.
"Isn't she adorable? One hundred forty-one years old and she still blushes like a teenager," Francis said with amusement, and then, in a suddenly serious tone full of warning, added, "And that should tell you something, so go slow and gentle with our little Ellie. Her mother hasn't let her out much."
Elspeth groaned, but refused to open her eyes or respond to the incorrigible man's comments, until she heard his laughter fade as if he was moving away. Squinting one eye open, she saw with relief that he had and opened the other eye as well, but she refused to look at Wyatt. Family could be so embarrassing at times.
"Interesting guy, your uncle," Wyatt commented as he steered the car slowly forward through the first gate. "Doesn't look anything like you."
"He's my uncle's wife," she said. "I mean his husband. Whatever, he's my uncle by marriage."
"Okay," Wyatt said easily, and then paused in front of the second gate to wait, and cleared his throat before asking, "Did he say you were one hundred forty-one years old?"
"I'm not one hundred forty-one," she informed him.
"Oh," he breathed.
Noting his relief, she added, "I'm one hundred forty-two."
Wyatt's eyes widened incredulously. He swallowed and then said weakly, "Oh."
"Wyatt, about this life mate business, I--"
"It's all right," he interrupted, his voice gaining strength again. "G.G. said you weren't ready for one, that you left your mother intending to enjoy a taste of freedom."
"Yes," she breathed with relief.
"I understand." Wyatt smiled at her reassuringly and then asked, "So, who is this guy?"
Elspeth turned to peer at the blond man who had approached the SUV and was now running a mirror on a long stick under the car. "That's my uncle Russell, Uncle Francis's husband."
"What's he checking for under the SUV?" Wyatt asked with a frown.
"Bombs, trackers, or rogues hanging underneath the car. Anything that might be a problem," she explained, smiling at her uncle when he glanced her way.
"You're kidding," Wyatt said with amazement. "Just what goes on out here?"
"It's just a precaution," she assured him as Russell finished and walked back to the gatehouse. "They've had some trouble
in the past."
"Right. Trouble," Wyatt muttered, easing his foot off the brake as the second gate began to open.
"They won't make you go through that on the way out. They only check incoming vehicles. Usually," she added to be honest, and then told him, "Just follow the lane that curves up in front of the house."
"Where does the other lane go?" Wyatt asked, his gaze sliding over what he could see of the buildings behind the house.
"To the dog kennels, the cells, and the garage where the Enforcers' SUVs are," she responded absently as she saw Valerian and Tybo coming out of the house.
"Cells? Like for prisoners?" Wyatt asked with surprise as he pulled to a halt in front of the house.
"Sure. We have to put the rogues somewhere," she pointed out, collecting the bag holding her ruined purse and its contents. Reaching for the door, she smiled at him and offered, "Thank you for understanding. And thank you very much for driving me out here. I appreciate it. Will you be okay finding your way back home?"
"Sure. The car has GPS," he said easily.
"Right. Thanks again." She pushed her door open and smiled when Tybo held it for her.
"Elspeth! Feeling better today I hope?" the hunter said, offering her a hand out.
"Yes. Thank you," she murmured as she stepped out.
"Good, good," Tybo said cheerfully, and then urged her to the side so that he could look inside the SUV. "Hey Wyatt! How's it hanging?"
It seemed Wyatt had made new friends, Elspeth noted. Nodding a greeting to Valerian, she left the men talking and hurried into the house.
Eight
"Wait. What?" Elspeth stared at Mortimer with disbelief. "You're putting bodyguards on me?"
"It's just until we sort out who's behind these attempts on your life," Mortimer said soothingly.
"The stabbing wasn't an attempt on my life," Elspeth snapped impatiently. When he arched one eyebrow, she grimaced and said, "Yes, all right, it was. But it was a one-time thing. The guy was mortal. He was also psychotic or something. He was off his meds and delusional, and the police took him away. He's in jail or a hospital now. The two incidents weren't connected. In fact, the second incident was probably just an accident. Someone in a hurry just bumped me and accidentally knocked me into the road," Elspeth assured him.
"You were pushed. It wasn't an accident," Mortimer said firmly.
Shaking her head with frustration, Elspeth paced away from his desk. This had been the last thing she'd expected to be greeted with when she'd entered Mortimer's office. This was just crazy, and so freaking unfair!
Spinning around, Elspeth marched back to his desk and slammed her bag on its wooden surface. "Mortimer, I moved to Canada so that I wouldn't have to live with my mother hovering over me all the time. Now she's here, and you want to stick a couple of men on me to boot? Unbelievable!"
"Yes, well . . ." Mortimer shifted his stapler on the desk, and then his mouse, and grimaced. "Unfortunately, I don't have any men to spare to guard you at the moment. As you know, we're stretched pretty thin just now."
"Thank God," she said with relief, thinking it meant she would avoid guards after all.
"However, Sam, Rachel, Lissianna, and Alex have volunteered to take turns guarding you in pairs until we figure out who is behind these attacks and put an end to them."
"Attack," she snapped. "Singular. And we don't even know if it was a serious attack on me. Maybe it was just another mentally ill individual running around randomly pushing people into the road."
"Fine. Attack in the singular," he agreed. "But it does not matter. One attack or two, you will still have a guard with you until we know what is happening."
Elspeth dropped into the chair in front of Mortimer's desk with a sigh. It seemed she hadn't escaped a guard after all. Sam, Rachel, Lissianna, and Alex were going to--
"Alex who?" she asked suddenly.
"Sam's sister," Mortimer admitted apologetically.
"You mean my brother Cale's wife?" she asked with a frown.
"Oh, yeah." He smiled faintly. "I always forget he's your brother."
Elspeth nodded, and then arched her eyebrows. "Alex is going to guard me?"
"She's very good with a knife," he assured her.
"Yeah, at chopping and dicing onions! She's a chef, Mortimer," Elspeth said with exasperation. "And Lissianna is a housewife now, Rachel a doctor, and Sam a lawyer. They aren't bodyguards, Mortimer."
"Have I mentioned that we're shorthanded?" he growled. "Just think of it as a girls' night that's going to last days . . . or weeks. However long it takes," he ended with a grimace. "Just go get your nails done, have facials, or hit The Night Club, drink Wino Reds, and giggle about how stupid and pathetic we men are or something, but do it with the women accompanying you."
Elspeth sat back and eyed him with sudden understanding. "Mother wanted the bodyguards."
"She wanted me to put six men on you around the clock," he said unhappily. "But I just don't have the manpower. Hopefully, having the women with you will prevent future attacks and appease your mother."
"Hmm," Elspeth said on a sigh. She didn't think it was likely. Her mother would not be appeased. She'd insist on guarding her as well and would end up herding them all around like they were a gaggle of grade-schoolers on a field trip. But then, Martine would have done the same thing had her guards been six strong and able Enforcers armed to the teeth. Her mother had issues with the safety of her children. She was also an original Atlantean, born there before the fall, owned a home in New York where she went when they had to leave England to handle the not-aging business, and as such had a seat on both the North American and British Councils of Immortals. On top of that, she was a member of the board of directors for Argeneau Enterprises, which paid Mortimer and the hunters for their work. With all of that weight behind her, Mortimer couldn't really afford not to do as she wished . . . unless Uncle Lucian trumped her demands. Unfortunately, Uncle Lucian wasn't here to intervene.
"Do you have any idea who might have pushed you in front of the car?" Mortimer asked suddenly, pulling her from her thoughts.
Elspeth shook her head unhappily. "I had no idea I was even pushed until Wyatt told me on the way here, and I didn't get the chance to ask him about it," she admitted, and then said, "Are we sure I was pushed? Who were the witnesses? Maybe I just stumbled off the curb or something."
Mortimer was shaking his head before she finished the suggestion. "G.G. was one witness. He was watching out the window and saw someone push you and run off."
Damn, Elspeth thought. Someone was trying to kill her. That was hard to believe. Good Lord, she'd only lived in Canada six weeks and hadn't pissed off anyone that she knew of. Well, aside from Madeleine/Nina, she supposed. But Meredith's thieving tenant was in jail. Now, if this was England . . . Actually, she couldn't think of anyone in England who might want her dead either. She hadn't got out much there thanks to her mother's--
"Maybe it's someone trying to hurt my mother by hurting me," she suggested suddenly.
"Maybe," Mortimer allowed, and added, "She's old and difficult enough to have made enemies," he said dryly. "Which makes it more likely than someone wanting to hurt you."
"Exactly," Elspeth said with satisfaction. It was always good to hear that she was more likeable than her mother.
"I'll look into that possibility too, then," he decided, jotting a note on a yellow pad on his desk. "But in the meantime, Alex is on her way here and she and Sam will watch you until dawn, when Lissianna and Rachel will take over." After a hesitation, he added, "Greg might be bringing Lucy to join you as well. Lissianna says little Lucy has trouble sleeping without her there, and Greg says he does too," he added with a roll of the eyes.
Elspeth's eyebrows rose with disbelief.
"And if Etienne catches wind that Greg and Lucy are with Lissianna, he'll probably wander over too to be with Rachel," he finished with disgust.
"Mortimer, if it's so dangerous I need guards, do you really think it's a good i
dea to have a baby around?" She didn't wait for an answer, but added, "Besides, my apartment only has two bedrooms, and it already has four people in it thanks to my mother and sisters deciding to visit. I don't have room for five more people."
"We can use the basement apartment."
Elspeth swiveled in her seat to see Wyatt standing in the open doorway. While his comment had startled her, his presence surprised her more. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd left."
Nodding politely at Mortimer, he entered the room and moved to stand beside her chair. "Valerian and Tybo mentioned that Mortimer planned to have you guarded, so I thought I'd come in and see if there was anything I could do." Turning to Mortimer, he offered his hand, "Hi. I'm Wyatt MacKay."
"Garrett Mortimer." The head of the Enforcers stood up to take Wyatt's hand. His gaze narrowed on the mortal's forehead as they shook, and then he nodded and released his hand. "We'll pay the rent for the basement apartment. I'll arrange to have furniture delivered later today."
"You don't have to rent it. It's free right now anyway," Wyatt said solemnly.
"We'll rent it," Mortimer said firmly, and then smiled and added, "Martine and the twins can move down there to make room for Elspeth's protection to stay in her apartment."
Elspeth perked up. "Really?"
"It's the smartest move," he said with a shrug.
She grinned briefly, but then deflated and shook her head. "Mother won't do it."
"She will," he assured her. "Sam will make her. She's had a lot of practice dealing with powerful immortals since marrying me. The woman has no fear. She essentially lawyers them to death."
Elspeth wondered how exactly that was done.
"I'd be happy to help guard Elspeth," Wyatt announced a little stiffly.
Probably because he knew Mortimer would refuse, Elspeth thought. Wyatt was mortal, after all, easy to kill in comparison to an immortal, and--
"I'll get you suited up with guns and whatnot then," Mortimer said.
"What?" Elspeth gasped with amazement. "Mortimer, he's mortal!"
"He's also a former member of the JTF2," Mortimer informed her as if that should mean something to her.
"I'll never get used to this mind reading business," Wyatt muttered, but Elspeth and Mortimer paid him no attention.
Elspeth was staring at Mortimer with bewilderment, mentally running through the possible meanings behind the initials JTF. Jazz Tune Fans, Just The Facts, Justice Truth Freedom, Junior Twinkie Finders, Jolly T--