by C. L. Quinn
“Aye. People shouldn’t bother ya that near to the door. I’ll keep an eye out.”
“I appreciate it. I doubt I’ll ever see either of you two men again, so please thank Lucky for me. Have a good one.” She paused with her hand on the panel of the swinging door.
For what had to be a full 60 seconds, she looked at Xavier as he looked back. Their eyes moved over each other, taking in the full effect. It was obvious each liked what they saw. Margot broke the silence.
“You’re not my type. Not even close, but…” Margot sighed. “You’re pretty much a perfect alpha male. In another time and place, Scotsman…”
“Aye,” he responded, speaking softer than he usually did. “In another time and place.”
Xavier watched the frustrating, intriguing woman from the entrance, the door propped open so he could stand back to keep an eye on her as he’d promised. Through the narrow opening, he couldn’t take his eyes off the satiny blonde hair bouncing as she paced, her head lifting to scan her surroundings every once in a while with suspicion. He realized he’d been holding his own breath and let it out.
“Damn,” he whispered. This chance encounter had screwed up his successful attempt at celibacy. Tonight, as he’d suspected earlier, there would be attention needed to certain things. If only she could be there.
That was another thing he’d learned about his own nature these past few weeks. Sex must have been a daily thing for him before, because his dreams and body had been punishing him for the last two. Tonight, he would give it at least some of what it craved.
After he watched her get into a taxi and disappear from his life, he went out to the bar to help Lucky close it down.
Four
IN SOUTHERN FRANCE
“I cannot believe they’ve found nothing. Marc, I’m going to have to go over there.”
Tamesine pitched her cell phone onto the bed, a recent text the reason for her agitation. She flew around their suite, her head bobbing as she repeatedly nodded to herself. “It’s my fault, all of it, it’s past time to fix this. Claude’s wasted too much air, I can’t believe he’s still breathing. He’s in New York City, it’s not that big of a city, for God’s sake.”
She stopped pacing, and pinned her mate with her eyes, now glowing with emotion. “He has Xavier, I’m sure of it!”
Marc groaned, already comfortable on the bed, ready to relax and enjoy a long day’s rest. Nothing upset him more than seeing his mate so worried. “Sweetie, how can he? Claude isn’t powerful enough to hold Xavier. Plus, Xavier’s life signal would lead you right to him.”
“Claude must be blocking it somehow.”
“Tam, he can’t, can he? He isn’t first blood.”
Calming down, Tamesine pushed out onto the balcony, letting the cool pre-dawn air help her to control her breath.
“Marc, I don’t know what he got from me. He converted too quickly, which means that some element of my first blood abilities transferred. All we know for certain is that he was able to block his lifeforce so I couldn’t find him, and that shouldn’t have been possible. And we know one more thing…that he’s still an evil son-of-a-bitch!”
“If you’re going, I’m going too.”
“Baby,” Tamesine laid a hand on his chest. “You need to stay with the children. I’m joining Koen. We both think that Claude is likely involved, and because of that, because I don’t know what we’re up against, we’re going to need the power. You understand?”
“Tam…”
She slid in close and kissed her mate, deeply, as her fingers slipped low to move against his loose-fitting boxers, pleased at the immediate swelling response. When she pulled away moments later, Marc groaned.
“Well, if you’re going to shut someone up, that’s the way to do it.”
“I love you, Marc, but I have to do this, and I have to know you’re safe. This is entirely my responsibility.”
Tamesine rolled her eyes. “And then there’s Xavier.”
“Yeah, your favorite vampire.”
“He’s not a bad man, he’s just…”
“Naughty. All the time. Still, he’s missing.”
“I know. And that’s unacceptable. I can’t imagine he’s really in trouble, likely passed out for weeks on end between drinking and enjoying American women, but…”
She trailed off and Marc finished for her.
“But it might not be that simple.”
Nodding, Tamesine let the fingers of her left hand begin to move again. “Let’s finish what I started.”
“Yup, like I’m going to say no to that.”
The children were already long asleep, the sun yet to rise, but the threat waited on the edge of the sparkling sea, so Marc closed up the UV barrier, and walked out of his shorts as he followed Tamesine to their bed.
IN BOSTON TWO NIGHTS LATER
There was no clue at all. As far as anyone knew, Xavier had intended to return to Paris from his visit to Boston over a month ago. He was a capricious man, so no one worried when he didn’t show up. Now, weeks later, Koen was here in America searching for his missing brother.
When Madame Renault from Xavier’s keep had called Sarah in Boston to find out when he’d be returning to France, and discovered that he’d supposedly left the city a long time ago, she had called Koen. No one messed with family in the first blood world, even if it was that oversized, boorish, womanizing drunk that Koen himself often found annoying. Xavier and Koen had been raised together, inseparable, brothers forever, and either of them would destroy anyone who hurt the other.
Frustrated with his intense but fruitless search, he was taking a breather to relax and watch the waves of the Atlantic wash ashore.
“I’ll find you, brother, you know that. Just try to let me know where you are,” he whispered to the darkened sea as he watched the surf slide over the sand near Sarah’s new home, a three-story mansion that had belonged to a recently deceased local celebrity. He didn’t understand all the details of how it had come to be, but Xavier’s former blood-bond, now fully human, a Shoazan who would become vampire soon, had one of the finest homes he’d ever seen.
She’d borne a daughter to an ancient vampire who she would take as mate before the coming holidays. He smiled as he swallowed a healthy amount of aged Macallan Scotch in honor of his brother. The holidays had taken on a new significance this past year with the generous numbers of new children born to the clans, and he thought it charming that Sarah wanted to use that special time of year to pledge herself to the love of her life.
“You big old bad dog,” he called out to an ever-strengthening tide. “You won’t want to miss your Sarah’s wedding, so get yer ass back here! It won’t be the same without getting a shameless blow-by-blow about the concept of true love from the man who’s never believed in it. You’ll see, brother, some day, it will bite you on your big hairy bum!”
“I want to be there for that,” a soft voice said from behind him.
Koen grinned and turned. “So would we all, Tam. Are you ready?”
“Yes. New York bound. It’s been a while for me.”
He watched her wade into the cold surf, barefoot in spite of the temperature of the water, her skirts lifted just as she did at home in France. Although she wasn’t clinically insane anymore, she had a delicate nature and it showed in the gentle, easy way she did everything. Tamesine had come a long way from the sexy psychotic she’d been for too many centuries. Now, mated, happy, she had become one of the best of their clan. It still surprised him.
“The last time I was in New York was with Bas after his stronghold was destroyed, days after I found Park. It was a difficult and miraculous time.”
“Those two words seem to perfectly describe the past few years of our lives. And after all of that, now another one of us is missing.” Shaking back her long hair, Tamesine stepped away from the water that reached for her with long damp fingers.
She sighed. “I hope we’re right.”
“If we aren’t, I can’t im
agine what we might be facing now.”
“I think it’s Claude. I think he found Xavier, and I pray that he hasn’t killed him forever.”
“Nay, he hasn’t.”
Tamesine looked up at Koen, so strong, so handsome, inches above her, his jaw set hard. “You’re so sure? Do you two have a connection beyond our lifeforces?”
Koen didn’t speak for several moments, but when he did, his voice was deeper than usual. “No. But I won’t accept that my pain-in-the-ass brother is gone. So let’s go find him.”
“I’m on your trail, Koen, all the way. Claude can’t beat both of us.”
Again, Koen was quiet as they got into the Mercedes SUV he’d commandeered. “It’s happened.”
“Not again. I won’t allow it.”
“You’re not a brutal woman, Tamesine.” He rolled his eyes as he pulled out too quickly onto the empty street. “Not anymore, I mean.”
“That woman is still in there and she’s fighting for her family. You of all people know that nothing supersedes that.”
“Aye. Good to have you for back-up, my friend.”
They rode quietly as they headed for New York, hopefully to the successful rescue of a beloved brother and to the final destruction of an old enemy.
IN NEW YORK CITY
Rain today was relentless, the wall of glass behind Margot’s desk sloughing off water in sheets. She loved the rain. From the time she was a child, Margot felt that a good rain could wash away things…bad things that she never wanted to see again. Like whenever the latest man of mom’s wandered out of her bedroom in the mornings. Margot would watch them go to the bathroom, grin, then walk back into her mother’s bed. Sometimes they were naked. She never wanted to remember any of them.
Today felt new, freshly cleaned by the pouring skies above this city that was now home, and mostly held wonderful memories. She was finished for the day, two cases put to rest, and only one outstanding task to accomplish.
It had been four days since she’d had dinner with Lipnicki, four days since she’d met Sally and the men who ran The Blind Spot. She had an overwhelming need to go back to find Sally.
Turning to her secret stash of wine as she enjoyed the constant patter of raindrops against her windows, she poured a tall stemmed glass just shy of the rim, tossed back her first mouthful, and smiled. The image of the enormous man with even more enormous muscles came to mind again, not for the first time these past few days.
“Yeah, searching for Sally, that’s the only reason you want to go back to that shithole.”
The door opened just as she finished speaking out loud and Freddie entered with some folders in her hand.
“I’m leaving before the rain washes away the street. And what shithole?”
“Nowhere you need to know about.”
Freddie’s eyes narrowed. “You’re sneaky. Why are you… Are you thinking about that unfortunate journey to the Smoke District at Hunts Point when you drove a beautiful car to its grave?”
“Just following up on a case.”
“Margot, that case is going to get you fired or hurt.”
Margot stood and walked around the desk, the wine glass abandoned, and stopped in front of Freddie. Leaning against her desk, she paused before she spoke.
“This is going to shock you, but I can’t let him keep on abusing women. Even if I lose this job, even if he roughs me up, and I kinda think you’re right about that, I have to stop him. Or at least try.”
Freddie’s eyebrows lifted, and her lips spread slowly.
“Well, look at you, becoming a citizen of the earth.”
Margot dropped her eyes to stare at her shoes. Was she? “We’ll see. Don’t give me too much credit.”
“That’ll be the day!” Freddie scoffed with a snort, then gently laid the folders on the desk. But as she turned to go, her right hand moved out to brush against Margot’s left.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Freddie said, her tone softer than usual.
Nodding, Margot moved to the windows, the click loud as Freddie closed the door, locking it as she went out. Still surging against the impenetrable glass, the rain hadn’t slowed at all. Freddie had locked the door because very few people remained on the floor this time of evening. She was worried that Lipnicki might be here, might be aware of Margot’s involvement in his sick hobby, and might try to intimidate or harm her.
Freddie didn’t know that Margot could defend herself. One of the first things she’d done when she left her mother at age seventeen was to find out how to protect herself. Assholes who thought it was okay to fondle their girlfriend’s teenage daughter had taught her that lesson early…she needed to be able to stop them herself.
Ten weeks of intensive training in self-defense and a four week course on firing a handgun made Margot confident that she would never be in that situation again.
But Freddie was right, this was different.
If Michael found out what she was up to before she got enough on his behavior to involve the authorities, she might be in real trouble. He was wealthy and influential enough that without solid evidence, no one would touch him, and with his obvious temper and propensity for violence, she was certain he would come after her.
So this had to go right. The morning after she’d met Sally and had her little adventure on the wrong side of town, Margot had hired a private detective. He was to get photographic proof of Michael’s activities, where he went, who he met with, anything that could help her case. She had no illusions that if Michael found out about Peter Stone, private eye, this was finished. Michael Lipnicki would make sure she would never be a threat to him again.
A sharp rap on her office door startled her enough to spill some of her wine.
“Shit!” Margot barked, as she stared at the door. Could it be Lipnicki? Did he already know what she was up to? There shouldn’t be anyone left on the floor by now, it was well past when most of her associates would have gone home.
Slowly, she started toward the door, still not certain she would open it.
“Margot, are you still here?”
She sighed and smiled, picking up her pace.
With a quick flip of her wrist, she unlocked the door and pulled it open.
“Gopher. What the hell are you doing here so late? Don’t you usually have class on Thursdays?”
“Yeah, but I cut out. Didn’t Fred tell you that I’m training for the Boston Marathon?”
“No, she didn’t. Here?” Margot headed back to her desk.
“Yeah, I’m running the stairwells. Can’t think of a better way to build up strength and endurance.”
“Yes, I suppose that would do it.” Her eyes moved over Gopher’s body. Clad in only shorts and a sleeveless tee shirt, he looked really good. Well-muscled, the brief clothing showed that whatever he had been doing was working. “Wow. Your body displays your dedication.”
“Thanks. It’s a dream I’ve had since I was about fourteen. My brother used to run it all the time.”
“Your brother?”
“Yeah. Toby. Called him Toberlone ‘cause he liked chocolate.”
“Will you be running with him?”
“No. Tobe bought it two years ago in Afghanistan.”
“Oh, God, honey, I didn’t know.”
Gopher lowered his head as he walked to her.
“It’s okay. I’ve adjusted. I come from a military family, there are quite a few missing people in our family tree.”
“Still, it can’t be easy. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks. So, here’s some pictures you might find interesting.”
He handed her a small flash drive. “I heard you and Freddie talking the other night. These might come in handy.” His huge chocolate eyes caught Margot’s. “You know I work late here a lot, don’t you? For several of the associates?”
“Actually, I didn’t. I mean, I know you don’t just work for me, but I don’t know your hours.”
“Frequently, I get assignments right as you guys are leaving
. I don’t have a family, so I don’t mind over-nighters. You guys need intel, I get it. I’m good at it. Anyway, that’s why I have the stuff on that drive. I always thought something shitty was going down, it’s why I took those shots. I didn’t know what to do with them at the time, but I knew I had to do something. I never fucking liked that guy. Be careful, boss. You, I kinda like.”
Margot looked from the flash drive in her hand back up to Gopher’s deep eyes. His expression was miles away from the usual cavalier, grinning smile.
Margot had no idea what he had brought to her, but she realized at that moment how very much she admired this handsome young man who had worked tirelessly for her for the past twelve months. “I kinda like you too. Thank you, Robert.”
His trademark grin returned like sunshine. “Stop that, I prefer Gopher. It has an elegance.”
“I keep telling Freddie that! Okay. Uh, be careful. Those stairways aren’t human friendly.”
“They’re a bitch after the first 200.”
He headed out at a trot, and Margot noticed that he, too, locked the door behind him.
Her eyes dropped back to her palm. A flash drive?
“What the hell is this?” she said out loud and slipped into her chair, slid the drive into her computer and sat back to view the contents.
Photos. Quite a lot. And several videos. Of Michael Lipnicki outside his office door. And women; two, that she could tell.
The still shots showed them as they entered and exited the office. The entry shots, the women looked okay, Michael smiling. The exit shots, the women came out alone, and they looked bad. Upset, crying, one of them limping badly. In one video, a woman with bright sherry-colored hair stopped to light up a cigarette with shaking fingers, tears sliding from her cheeks, glanced back with an expression of fear, and headed for the elevator quickly.
God. Gopher had given her credible evidence that Lipnicki was abusive. It wasn’t anything actionable, but it would add validity to her case. More important, though, was the fact that it gave her two more possible witnesses to put on the stand. If Sally wouldn’t do it, maybe she could get one of these women to.