Burning Both Ends (Guardian Witch #3)
Page 39Walking down the hallway toward the audience chambers, smiling at the soft swish of her fabric, she was caught off guard by the vibration of her cell phone. She dug it out of a pocket and checked the ID. Defying compound protocol, she’d kept it turned on since her return so she wouldn’t miss this call.
“Horatio, what did you find out?”
“Told you I’d call in time, didn’t I? That name you gave me? It appeared on a flight roster out of Galena into Chicago on the same day you left for Toronto. It showed up again on an incoming flight a week earlier. Is that what you expected?”
“Yes.” A part of her was sorry she’d been right.
“Going to make this official?”
“Nope. That’ll be up to Steffan and the others. Thanks, Horatio, I owe you.”
“I have something else of possible interest. When you got off the plane to make your connecting flight, a man was tailing you. Dark red hair, medium build, maybe 35 years old in a blue shirt and jeans. Had a slight hesitation in his walk. I spotted him quite easily, so I believe he is an amateur. He waited and took the flight after yours to Toronto. Do you need me to follow up with an identification?”
Ari stopped in the hallway outside the audience chambers. A clear image of Percy, Marta’s human consort, popped into mind. His awkward gait. The unruly auburn hair. Come to think of it, he hadn’t been with Marta when Ari had arrived yesterday. That would be consistent with taking a later flight. A fascinating development. Why would he be following her? Was he doing this for himself or for Marta? Did the vampiress even know? Maybe he was acting on his own to make certain his lover became the next Toronto prince—or would Marta be called a princess?
Ari returned her attention to the phone. “No, Horatio, don’t do anything. I’m sure I know who the tail was. Unexpected news, but thanks.”
“Glad to help, my dear. Anytime. Have you taken care of your vampire problem yet?”
“Just about to do that.”
Ari took a deep breath and opened the chamber doors. Andreas, Gabriel, Marta—and her redheaded consort—and several other vampires and werecreatures were already gathered. As planned, Lilith and Russell weren’t present yet, as they were patrolling the hallways to keep anyone from wandering in on Gilbert and the other hidden reinforcements. The werelion couple would join them as soon as the rebel group arrived.
Andreas’s smile sent a shiver of pleasure through her the moment he saw her. He started forward but Gabriel reached her first, grabbing her hands in his. “You look marvelous.” Gone was the sour mood of last night. Gabriel bowed over her hands. “Please forgive my doubts,” he said softly. “I was blind to everything except Andreas’s needs.”
She could hardly fault him for that. In fact, hadn’t she counted on him to watch Andreas’s back? “Forget it,” she murmured.
Gabriel flashed his brilliant smile. “Allow me to seat you, my lady.” He pulled on one hand, urging her toward the raised platform area. It had been covered with dark red velvet for the occasion. Eight elaborately upholstered chairs in a similar red and muted gold were arranged in a row.
“I believe this is my privilege,” Andreas said, smoothly cutting in and taking her hand from Gabriel. “Go find your own lady.”
When he gave Gabriel an approving eye, Ari knew he’d overheard the apology. Good. The last thing she wanted to do was come between old friends.
“Spoil sport.” Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows in comic fashion and stepped back. “You never were any good at sharing.”
“I do not intend to start tonight.” With a quirk of his lips, Andreas turned his back on Gabriel and his smile broadened. “He is right about one thing. You look delightful, Arianna. But your hand is cold. Nervous?”
“A little. I feel naked without my derringer. It’s too heavy for my pockets, and there was no way to make an ankle holster inconspicuous with these strap heels. It would kind of ruin the friendly image.”
Gabriel peeked at her over Andreas’s shoulder. His face was puckered in a puzzled frown. “Why do you need a gun? You have the witch fire.”
“The derringer allows me to be proactive.” When he still looked confused, she clarified. “It’s not limited to defense. I can shoot first and ask questions later.”
“It’s a white witch thing. At least in America. It's because vampires have no defense against fire. It always kills and is capable of widespread destruction. All American fire witches are required to enter an oath to use it only for defense." Ari didn’t know how to explain it any better. It was a matter of fairness. Maybe Gabriel couldn’t relate to ethical restraints, that some things were just wrong. Maybe that’s the part vampires lost—the spiritual stuff. Yet the moment the thought crossed her mind, she rejected it. Andreas understood. Wasn’t that why he was insisting on diplomacy tonight? Maybe Gabriel had spent too much of his life around vampires like Sebastian and the O-Seven.
Andreas led her toward the covered stage, where the chairs were arranged in a semi-circle for easier conversation. She’d be able to see each of them, judge body language and facial expressions. Yeah, sure. Not much to see among a bunch of vampires. Except for the eyes. Sometimes the eyes gave them away. Yeah, she’d watch for that.
Andreas guided her to the third chair in the row. He took the seat on her left, Gabriel and Marta on her right. Oliver stood behind Andreas, and Russell would soon join him. The other four seats awaited their guests.
It was 9:59 when Lilith and Russell slipped into the room. The rebels were within the compound. On the stroke of the hour, the chamber doors opened, a flare of power flowed into the room, and the guests were announced. Ari studied each vampire as they entered. Only one of them had been in Sebastian’s court that first night.
The tall, dark-skinned vampire with a shiny, bald head entered first, indicating his rank. Ezekial had been Sebastian’s second lieutenant, right behind Marta in the chain of command. He mounted the stage with an air of command and took the chair next to Andreas, assuming the role of spokesman for his group. He was accompanied by a fierce-looking, female werewolf, who took a position directly behind his chair.
The other vampires were newcomers to Ari. Jamal, not as dark as Ezekial, but not a product of the northern European countries, wore his black hair long enough to touch the shoulders of his gold leather jacket. He walked with a swagger, a female vamp with red hair and black leather by his side. She was content to retire and watch proceedings from the far side of the stage. Obviously not a player.
Edward was European, and, in fact, spoke with a London accent. Brown hair, hazel eyes, a suit of tweed and leather, and an easy manner. He produced an engaging smile. Under other circumstances, Ari might have considered him charming. He, too, had an escort: a vampiress, regally draped in a full-length black gown. She joined the other female on the sidelines.
Bartholomew was the last to enter, but decidedly not the least. A bear of a man, Bartholomew easily reached six-and-a-half feet and three hundred pounds; most of his bulk looked like muscle. His brown hair was shaggy and his face bearded. Intelligent and assessing dark eyes flashed from under all that hair. A man to watch. The male vamp with him paled in comparison—small, wiry, but she noticed the sheath of a stiletto at his waist. He faded into the shadows next to the platform. An assassin. Ari caught Lilith’s gaze and gave a nod. The lioness moved in his direction.
None of the extra personnel were introduced, and Ari assumed they were emergency muscle rather than dates.
She turned her attention back to Andreas, waiting for this strange meeting to begin. The audience room door suddenly opened again. Two human women entered. Young, attractive, and discreetly covered in long, flowing capes of black and silver, they seated themselves on the edge of the stage, directly in front of the visiting vampires.
Ari looked at Andreas. His magic had flared for an instant. He wasn’t happy the women were here. Not his idea, then. Why would the rebels bring them? They didn’t look like bodyguards. She shifted in her seat, uneasy. She hoped the rebels hadn’t brought their own brand of entertainment. That could mean trouble.
Ari found the next ten minutes pretty boring. Andreas said all the right things; they had all the right responses. Eventually, Andreas asked them to state their business. At least that was Ari’s interpretation of Andreas’s much more formal and circumspect words.
Ezekial spoke up, as expected. “We thought it was time to discuss the future of the Toronto Court.”
“How kind of you to express an interest in my affairs,” Andreas said, his tone feigning mild surprise. “But hardly necessary. There is nothing that should concern you.”
“Isn’t there?” Ezekial’s face assumed a harsher aspect, jaw jutting. “I…” He looked at his companions and started over. “We have heard otherwise. Several have deserted your court…” He left the sentence open, inviting comment.
“Only seven have left,” Andreas corrected. “The four of you, plus three others who unfortunately are no longer with us. No one else has followed your lead. While I regret losing your support, it is of little significance to my future plans.”
Ari’s hand tightened on her wine glass. That was rather blunt. But apparently no one thought it was offensive; they didn’t react. Weird vampire politics again.
“Are you also unconcerned about the reaction from Europe?” Ezekial bit off his words, his manner barely falling short of rudeness. “The ruling council doesn’t support your claim to the crown.”
“If you are accurate, and I have seen no proof, you are better informed on the subject than I am,” Andreas said. “I have heard nothing from Europe. No concerns or complaints. Have you initiated contact with the O-Seven regarding my affairs? That would be carrying your interest beyond the limits of friendly concern.”