He could hardly wait to dump her on his mistress’s doorstep.
“My mistress is waiting for us in Mexico. It’s too far to drive, not safely anyway. Raphael and the others would catch up with us. Your brother has too many human resources at his disposal.”
“Of course,” she agreed. “Raphael will spare no effort to find me.”
Pascal was beginning to suspect Alexandra wasn’t entirely sane. She’d made that last declaration as if it was a good thing, as if she’d been kidnapped unwillingly and her brother’s search would be motivated by love and concern, rather than anger at her escape. Then again, Pascal suspected Alexandra might be right on some level. If any other vampire had betrayed Raphael the way she had, that vampire would have been dusted long ago. The fact that Raphael had let her live spoke to his lingering love for her, which is why their plan would work, one way or the other. They didn’t care if he chased her out of anger or love, as long as he chased her . . . eventually.
“If my plan works,” he told Alexandra, “Raphael won’t even know you’re gone until tomorrow night. And we’ll already be in Mexico.”
Alexandra’s eyes grew even wider. “We’re leaving so soon? You mean flying during the day?”
“Of course.”
“Raphael never flies during daylight.”
Pascal rolled his eyes again. He was tired of hearing about the great Raphael. He wanted to remind this stupid bitch that her perfect brother had locked her in a fucking prison in the basement. But he didn’t. His mistress would not be pleased if he delivered a less than cooperative Alexandra.
“My mistress has sent her own plane with human pilots to carry you. We’ll be perfectly safe.”
Alexandra frowned her doubt, but nodded. “Raphael has two planes, and he uses only vampire pilots.”
Pascal gritted his teeth. This was going to be a long, fucking drive. For the first time since he’d been made vampire, he was actually looking forward to the blissful nothingness of daytime sleep.
“THEY’RE IN MEXICO, my lord. As you suspected.”
Cyn had been on her way out of Raphael’s office, heading for the gym and her nightly torture session with Elke, but she stopped when Jared made his announcement.
“We expected Pascal to take to the air at some point in order to escape your territory faster, and he did. The plane they boarded just before dawn filed a flight plan for Mexico City.”
“Mexico City,” Raphael repeated. “Enrique has never been a friend, and he openly despises the new alliances on the Council. But would he go this far?”
“It could be Enrique’s lieutenant, Vincent, too,” Juro suggested. “Maybe the Europeans offered a quid pro quo. You help us get rid of Raphael, and we’ll help you get rid of Enrique.”
“No, it’s not Vincent,” Jared said at once. “He’s not that stupid. Although you’re right about one thing. Vincent has no love for Enrique. I’m pretty sure he’ll challenge the old man sooner rather than later. But he’s been a good neighbor to Anthony. They’ve worked together more than once when things flared on the border. He’s also indicated to me privately that he supports Raphael’s goal of a united Council. I’d put my money on Enrique himself. He’s got a sociopath’s narcissism. He’ll do anything if it advances his own cause, which, in this case, means sparing his own territory from any foreign invasion.
“What if it is Enrique who’s behind it?” Cyn asked, drawing closer to face Raphael. “Will you challenge him?”
Raphael frowned and shook his head. “I’ve no desire to take on the burden of Mexico’s vampires. I’m already supporting Anthony in the South, in addition caring for my own. No, if Enrique has helped my enemies in this way, I’ll leave it to Vincent to destroy his master for me.”
Cyn didn’t say anything, but she eyed Raphael curiously, thinking about the P.I. he’d asked her to hire, someone to carry a private message to an ancient vampire in Mexico. Raphael’s plots always contained layers within layers. Enrique had been the lone hold-out on the Council, the last one of the old order. And she wondered if there was a connection between that private message for an old friend, and Raphael’s desire to have Vincent eliminate Enrique once and for all.
Raphael’s eyes met hers across the room in silent communication. He claimed he couldn’t read her mind, that she had too strong a will for him to penetrate her thoughts. But that had been a long time ago, before they’d been joined by blood, before they’d grown as close as two individuals could be. Or maybe he simply understood her, because their minds moved in similar ways, both devious in their plotting . . . and merciless in their revenge.
Except for that one time with Alexandra. It had been Cyn who’d persuaded Raphael to let his sister live. She’d been convinced that Alexandra’s death would come between them in the end, that Raphael would see his dead sister every time he looked at Cyn. But now, she thought she might have made a mistake. A living Alexandra was proving to be a huge pain in the ass.
“Are we going to Mexico then?” Cyn asked. Three sets of vampire eyes turned to stare at her. “It’s the obvious question,” she said defensively.
“Whoever took Alexandra will want to meet, face to face. There’s no reason to do this otherwise,” Jared told her. “But even if he’s helping behind the scenes, Enrique won’t want the meet to be in Mexico. He won’t want to be associated that clearly with the plot in case it goes wrong.
That’s assuming he’ll have a say in the matter,” Juro commented. “Or that he even wants to know what they’re doing.”
Jared nodded. “My guess is they’ll suggest somewhere in the South, but close to their safe haven across the border, just in case. They might even let us choose the final location, figuring we’ll trust them more that way.”
“Why would they give Raphael that kind of an advantage? Cyn asked. “What’s to stop us from setting up an ambush?”
Jared shrugged. “Pascal thinks he has us all fooled, that we won’t have time to plan anything once they contact us. They don’t know that we’re already aware of Alexandra’s escape, that we tracked their plane to Mexico. If we were doing a normal investigation, it would take hours just to discover Pascal’s absence and then connect the two departures. In the meantime, the two of them will have been in Mexico for hours. That plane departed just before sunrise and flew through daylight.”
A phone rang on Raphael’s desk. “I told them to put the call through directly,” Juro explained. He leaned over and put the phone on speaker, then said, “Juro.”
“Juro!” Pascal crowed as if he’d just rediscovered his long lost best friend.
“I should have known,” Juro snarled convincingly. “I should have dusted you the moment we met.”
“And made a mess for the lovely Lucia to clean up? I think not. How is she, by the way? You taking care of her?”
“Get to it, Pascal,” Juro snapped, ignoring the other vamp’s attempts to rile him up.
“Let me talk to Raphael,” Pascal replied, his voice suddenly all business.
“Not going to happen,” Juro informed him. “You can fucking tell me whatever you have to say.”
“You’re not calling the shots on this one, big guy,” Pascal said snidely. “It’s Raphael or no deal.”
“Fine. No deal. You can keep her.” Juro reached to disconnect the call, making as much noise as possible in an obvious bid for Pascal to hear the movement.
Cyn held her breath until it became obvious that the ploy had worked. “Whatever,” Pascal muttered finally. “He’s probably right there listening anyway, so here’s the deal. He comes alone, no bodyguard, no driver, no fucking security. We’ll let you suggest a place, so he feels safe. But he comes alone.”
“And what do you get out of this deal?” Juro said curiously. “So far, you’ve got us retrieving our missing goods without giving you anything at all.”<
br />
Even Cyn heard Pascal’s soft curse, as if he hadn’t been prepared for the question. “Money,” he said quickly. “I need some seed money for a fresh start now that Klemens is dead.”
“You could have just asked, “Juro scoffed. “Lord Raphael is very generous with his people.”
“Yeah, except I’m not one of his people. You all made that very clear.”
The bitterness in Pascal’s words was unmistakable, and Cyn wondered if he might not have crossed paths with Raphael at some point in the past and made such a weak impression that Raphael hadn’t even remembered. Even so, did he really think they were stupid enough to believe that all of this was about money? She drew close enough to Raphael to rest her hand on his shoulder as Juro and Pascal arranged the final details.
“It will take time to set up a secure meeting place,” Juro told Pascal. “We’ll ask Anthony to play host.”
“Anthony,” Pascal said dismissively. “It shouldn’t take Raphael more than a few minutes to set something up with him. Everyone knows who the real power in the South is.”
“Even so,” Juro said, not denying the accusation. “One hour.” He disconnected on the first syllables of Pascal’s renewed protest.
They didn’t waste their self-imposed hour-long wait. By the time Pascal’s call came in—one hour almost to the minute—they were already sitting in Raphael’s Learjet at the airport.
“Someone’s impatient,” Jared noted. Cyn shrugged. Pascal’s impatience wasn’t much of a surprise. What was a surprise was the voice that greeted them when Jared pushed the button to activate the speaker phone on the jet.
“Raphael?”
Cyn’s gaze shot to Raphael at the hated sound of Alexandra’s voice. It wasn’t enough that she’d betrayed her brother yet again. She had to rub salt into the wound with her little games.
“Raphael, please talk to me. I know you’re listening.” Alexandra’s plea ended with a very convincing little hitch in her voice. But then she always had been an excellent liar.
Raphael’s jaw clenched. “Alexandra,” he acknowledged.
“I’m sorry, Raphael,” she sobbed openly. “He made me go with him! He threatened to start killing guards, to kill you. I didn’t know what to do!”
Raphael’s eyes closed briefly, as if in pain, and Cyn wanted to reach through the phone line and strangle the bitch. He’d done everything for her. And this was how she repaid him. Again. Cyn should have let him execute her the first time, except . . . She’d been right to talk him out of it. He’d never have forgiven himself for killing his own sister.
“Put Pascal on the phone, Alexandra,” Raphael said, not bothering to respond to her feigned distress.
Soft sounds of crying could be heard over the speaker, and then Pascal came on, his voice full of smug confidence. “So, what’s it to be, Raphael? Your sister or your money?”
“We’ll be at Westlawn Cemetery in Del Rio, Texas in four hours.”
“Del Rio,” Pascal repeated slowly. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you cross the bridge into Mexico and make it Acuña instead?”
Raphael and Jared exchanged a look, and Cyn knew that Pascal had just given away something important.
“Not the most pleasant rendezvous location,” Jared commented.
“Jared! I knew you’d be listening. Juro, too, I bet, huh? Hey, big guy, you there?” he called, the jab obviously aimed at Juro. “So what’s wrong with Acuña?” Pascal continued when Juro ignored him. “You afraid of a few drug thugs?”
“Vampire business is best conducted in private, Pascal,” Jared reminded him.
“Don’t want anyone to see the great Raphael brought low, huh?” Pascal laughed. “All right, then, there’s an old church in Acuña. Guadalupe something or other. It’s got a big white bell tower. You can’t miss it. It closes at sunset, but I trust you can handle a locked door.”
“Four hours,” Raphael said abruptly, clearly tired of the game. “We’ll be there.” He was reaching to disconnect when Pascal’s voice came back at him.
“Make sure the money’s in cash. U.S. only.”
Raphael didn’t dignify that with a response. Everyone on the plane knew this little farce had nothing to do with money.
“You know the place?” Raphael asked Jared once he was sure the phone line was dead.
“Vaguely. Churches aren’t exactly my thing. That one’s old, open mostly to tourists these days. There’s a new cathedral in town that does the real business. But he’s right. Late at night, the place will be deserted, and the streets will be busy enough that we won’t draw any attention driving through town.”
Raphael nodded. “Juro, have your team set up on this side of the border. They need to hold our escape route open.”
Juro didn’t say anything, but he didn’t look happy. And Cyn wasn’t the only one who noticed.
Raphael smiled slightly. “We’ll take two additional guards and a second SUV, but it won’t make any difference. We all know this confrontation isn’t going to be about numbers.”
Cyn listened to this exchange and tried to make sense of something the others clearly understood. If Raphael thought that the number of warriors at his back wouldn’t matter, then that meant he was expecting to meet a master vampire, or maybe even another vampire lord. But despite his enemy’s obvious duplicity at every turn, Raphael seemed to be expecting a stand-up fight. That seemed crazy to her. If the enemy vamp was powerful enough to meet Raphael in a one-on-one, he wouldn’t have bothered with the charade of Alexandra’s kidnapping in the first place, would he? All he would have to do is step over the boundary to Raphael’s territory and wait for him to come calling.
But that’s not what the enemy had done. They’d gone to all this trouble because they wanted Raphael in Mexico, in Enrique’s territory, or more to the point, away from his own. They obviously thought by getting him down here, they could defeat him. But why would they think that?
Cyn stood, drawing the attention of all three vampires. “You guys haven’t changed,” she said thoughtfully. “You still think your enemies play by your rules. But they don’t. There’s more to this than meets the eye. Alexandra’s the bait, sure. But what’s their game? When the trap springs, what’s going to happen?”
They all gave her identical blank looks, and she was not reassured to realize that they didn’t know the answer to that question any more than she did.
Chapter Five
DESPITE THE CHANGE in rendezvous point, they still flew into Del Rio, Texas, in order to avoid the hassle of Mexican Customs. Traveling by private jet had its advantages, but avoiding Customs wasn’t among them. Any of the vampires traveling with them were capable of influencing the mind of a human Customs official, but it wasn’t worth the effort in this case. Acuña, Mexico was a short ride over the International Bridge from Del Rio. The city still had a relatively strong tourism industry, thanks to its proximity to the U.S., but like almost every other Mexican city these days, it was increasingly plagued by the violent activities of various criminal organizations, mostly centered around drugs. This was bad for the local economy, but, as it turned out, good for a vampire meet that might very well come down to a bloody battle of its own.
Despite that dubious benefit, however, Cyn wasn’t happy that they were meeting in Mexico. There were too many uncertainties, too many ways the encounter could go wrong that had nothing to do with vampires. It was unlikely that anyone would try to accost Raphael or any of his vampires—and even less likely that they would succeed—but she would still have preferred to be on the U.S. side of the border.
Seeming to sense her unease, which he no doubt did, Raphael put an arm around her as they walked to the vehicle waiting for them on the tarmac in Del Rio. It was the usual SUV, but without the blackened windows and, unfortunately, without the bullet-proofed exterior.
&nbs
p; He leaned close and whispered, “I love you, my Cyn.”
“Don’t say that,” she muttered. “They sound like the last words of the condemned man.”
He gave her a puzzled grin. “You really are worried! There’s no need.”
“We still don’t know what’s waiting for you over there. And you know as well as I do that it’s not going to be Pascal and Alexandra alone in a church.”
“It’s not,” he agreed, standing back and letting her slide into the back seat ahead of him. “But it won’t be as bad as you think, either.”
Juro was already behind the wheel, and he took off as soon as Raphael’s door closed. The bridge into Mexico was only a short drive away.
“How do you know?” she demanded, as they left the airport. She knew she was being a pain in the ass, but was too worried to let it go.
“Because, my Cyn, if there was a true threat waiting for me, I’d sense it by now.”
“You mean, like Enrique himself?”
He nodded, but his expression made it clear he thought that possibility unlikely. “Enrique would never involve himself at this level. He knows he can’t defeat me in a challenge, and there’s no reason for him to try. Even if he succeeded, he could never hold my territory as well as his own.”
“But you suspect him of somehow being involved in this.”
“At this point, it’s almost a certainty rather than a suspicion. The fact that Pascal insisted on meeting in Mexico is damning. But Enrique’s participation is most likely only that of a facilitator. He thinks to save himself by betraying the rest of us, by giving my enemies safe passage through his territory.”
“Bastard. Do we get to kill him?”
“He’ll die, but not by my hand. And not tonight.”
Unforgiven (A Cyn and Raphael Novella Book 3) Page 6