He was right. But everything in my being insisted that Luc was in the vision I’d seen as a child. And his presence in the vision from the brand hadn’t yet been explained either. Even though it was starting to look more like Nicolas was responsible for that crime.
“I know what I saw.” There was nothing else to say but that, although I didn’t have anything concrete to argue with. Frustration and helplessness rolled through me, and must have shown in my expression, because Claude stepped toward me again.
“I’m more worried that they may have seen you. If Nicolas believes you overheard them…” He shook his head. “I can’t let him hurt you, mon amour.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t even know how to feel. My gut twisted and my pulse raced. Happiness that he cared warred with fear at the resignation in his voice.
“Maybe you should finish getting dressed.” I stepped away. I couldn’t be so close to him right now and still think straight.
He laughed softly. “All right. I will get dressed. We will sleep. And tomorrow, we will do what needs to be done.”
He’d said we. We would do what needed to be done. But he’d meant I. That much was obvious when I awoke alone the next morning. I called his name once, but the silence in the condo was oppressive.
“Fucking idiot,” I muttered. He’d left a note by the coffeepot. Basic, but gut-wrenching all the same. Let him take care of his problem. Couldn’t let anyone else be hurt. Blah blah blah… We’d do dinner.
He was a stupid, heroic vampire. An irreplaceable man. And he was walking into a trap.
Even on the off chance Nicolas didn’t expect him. Wasn’t planning on him showing up to protect me or seek justice. It didn’t matter. Nicolas wouldn’t be alone. As the son of a Magister and powerful vampire in his own right, he’d have handlers or bodyguards or a few fucking yes men to help him off Claude. And Claude was going in with a dangerous assumption: that Luc’s loyalties were with him, not with his own son.
I couldn’t let that happen.
He might hate me for it, might consider it a betrayal, but I had to go to the police.
I dressed quickly and decided to go to Chicago’s Paranormal Unit. My words would carry more weight with the Otherworlder Enforcement Agency, but Chicago’s freak squad was better staffed than the local OWEA branch. And they had more reason to give a shit about Claude. I considered calling, but the situation was too complex, too difficult to explain over the telephone. It would be simpler, and quicker, in person.
As if affected by my mood, gray clouds hung heavily over the city, and the oppressive cold sank through my coat and scarf almost immediately. I looked down the street for a cab. There. I raised my hand to wave, and a sharp pain stabbed the back of my neck. Someone pulled me against his body. I could see and hear the rush of the wind, but I couldn’t move my head to see who held me. My mouth wouldn’t work. Panic roared through me, but I couldn’t cry out. Couldn’t fight back.
The gloved arm pulled me into a car, and finally I caught a glimpse of the man’s face. The man who was kidnapping me.
Luc Chevalier. The Magister.
Frustration fought against the panic as we pulled away from the curb. I was lain across the backseat of the vehicle, my legs across Luc’s lap. I couldn’t see the driver. Dark tinted windows hid us from the rest of the world. For a brief moment, I had the insane idea that they couldn’t see me. That I wasn’t really there. That I was instead locked into someone else’s vision. An idea that Luc quickly shattered.
“I apologize for the spell, Miss Davis. You’ll understand that we couldn’t have you calling out for help or hurting yourself trying to get away.”
The vampire’s voice was smooth, placating. The voice of a politician.
“You won’t be harmed. You have my word.”
Right. Totally a politician. I could see why the vampires followed him. I almost believed him when he said I wouldn’t be harmed. I wanted to believe him. But, I also wasn’t an idiot. People weren’t kidnapped, allowed to see their kidnappers, and then simply released. It just didn’t happen.
Panic rose in me again at the thought, and I pushed it down as best I could and tried to think my way through the situation. I still couldn’t move. But chances were, if this was a basic disabling spell Luc commissioned, I would be immobilized for less than an hour. Surely it would take longer than that for them to take me somewhere to kill me, or whatever they had planned for me first. I’d get my chance then.
But what kind of chance would I have?
Luc was one of the strongest vampires in the country, and definitely on the shortlist for the most powerful in the world. Sure, there were probably a few who could take him out in Europe and Asia where the older families lived, but I didn’t have an ancient vampire handy, so fighting my way free wasn’t an option.
I’d have to run. Or scream. Possibly run away screaming.
Awesome plan.
Luc didn’t say anything else, and we rode silently for a while. Finally, a tingle started in my fingertips. The spell was wearing off—and by my estimate we’d been driving nearly an hour. If I had to, maybe I could surprise them. Jump out of the car when it slowed. Bruises and broken bones were better than being dead.
Before I could contemplate how best to roll when I hit the ground, the car slowed and the light outside the windows dimmed. The car engine ceased its rumble, and Luc opened the door. We’d arrived, wherever it was we were going.
Luc pulled me out of the car carefully, then carried me as if I were a bride, across the threshold into a house. The smell of cigarettes touched my nose, but I couldn’t be sure if it was the house, or someone walking in front of us. A cottage-cheese ceiling was all I could make out from my vantage point, and I frowned. No way were we at the Magister’s house. The vampire just didn’t strike me as the type to have 1980s popcorn ceilings anywhere on his property.
My arm twitched of its own volition and Luc made an approving noise.
“Good. You’ll be able to move normally in a minute or two. That’ll make this easier.”
We emerged from the hallway, and the smell of old cigarettes filled my nose. Oh yes, it was the house that stank. Whoever lived here wasn’t worried about cracking a window for a smoke. Luc lay me down on a couch, gentle again. If he really intended to kill me, would he be so careful not to hurt me now?
A door slammed in another room. A loud thump, like an exterior door, but not from the same direction we’d entered. The light sound of footsteps approaching. My heart jumped into my throat. Another vampire? Why the hell not? I could handle three as well as two—meaning not at all.
“What the hell did you do to her?” The voice was familiar and, even across the room, sent hope rushing through me. But the hope was quickly stamped out by dread.
Claude was here. But so was Luc and who knew how many vampires?
What chance did we have?
“It’s a simple disabling spell. She’s otherwise unharmed.”
Movement in the corner of my eye made me start, and to my surprise, my body actually twitched.
“Jesus, Luc. I could have picked her up. This wasn’t necessary.” Footsteps against carpet, then, “Can you move, Beatrice?” Claude’s voice was low and soothing, and only inches from my ear. “Try to move.”
It took a couple of minutes, but with some concentrated effort and a whole lot of built up fear and anger, I was able to work myself up into a sitting position.
“…Fucker,” I finally managed once I could speak again.
Luc offered me a small, apologetic smile. “I understand why you would be upset. But we needed to speak to you without making a scene. And Claude was otherwise detained.”
“I was checking on the capture of a rogue witch—one your son is well-acquainted with. You could have given me more than fifteen minutes to return your phone call,” Claude growled.
“I’m afraid time was of the essence.”
“Could’ve…asked.” Forming words was still a challenge. Like I’d been tossed in a deep freeze and was trying to thaw my muscles. Thankfully minus the cold.
The room revealed by my sitting position wasn’t much better than the smell. The couch I sat on was old and frayed, and a stack of beer bottles sat on the coffee table next to a full ashtray. It looked—and smelled—like a bachelor pad of a college-aged boy who’d decided to party his early twenties away instead of actually going to college.
“You’ll understand if I didn’t think you’d be likely to trust me, considering my presence in your visions,” Luc said, and the man behind him who stood in the shadows shifted almost imperceptibly. Only two of them, then—Luc and the driver? Fewer than I would have guessed if he was looking for a fight.
Luc’s words sank in, and my gaze shot to Claude. Sure enough, he glanced down. Guilt covered his expression.
“You told him? My great big secret I only just confided in you? How long did you wait, Claude? Did you call him last night, or did you wait to slither out of bed this morning to do it?” Betrayed. By Claude. I couldn’t even grasp the emotions washing through me. Anger and fear and such an overwhelming sadness that I had to choke down tears.
Overrunning it all was exhaustion.
Why the hell had I crawled out of my comfortable bed, my safe life, to help this man? To crack open my past that would have been just fine staying where it was. In the past.
“I’m giving him a chance to explain. He’s an honorable man.” Claude turned to Luc, his brows pinched in annoyance. “I didn’t think he’d spell you and bring you here. And I’m still not clear why we’re meeting in this place.”
“It’s a good thing he trusted me, Miss Davis.”
“Agent Davis.” I faced Luc and the rage started to win. “A good thing? I saw your face, Luc. I know you were there when my brother was killed.”
Forcing myself to my feet, I struggled for balance. I couldn’t face this man sitting down.
