“Christian, it’s Natalie. We met earlier . . . well, by the time you get this, it will have been last night that we met.” There was a pause, as if she didn’t know how to continue, but then she did. “I wonder if we could meet for coffee . . . or something. Somewhere away from the estate. I’m probably making too much of—” She drew a deep breath. “Anyway, if you could, call me when you get this. This is my cell phone, so anytime.”
Christian frowned at the number, then played the message one more time.
“Marc!” he yelled, and heard his lieutenant’s door open down the short hall, followed by rapid footsteps.
Marc appeared in the open doorway. “What happened?”
“Nothing yet, but listen to this.”
He played both messages for Marc, whose reaction to Natalie’s voice was much the same as his. “Jaclyn’s business as usual, but this Natalie . . . who is she?”
“I forgot you didn’t meet her. She works in Anthony’s office, an accountant, I think. Sexy as hell, by the way.”
“Damsel in distress. Go get her, bro.”
Christian smiled slightly, but shook his head. “There’s a complication, which makes this interesting, and more than a little troubling. Anthony calls her his cousin, but I don’t think that’s really the way he thinks of her.”
“You think she’s setting you up?”
Christian considered the possibility. She’d be the perfect weapon against him. Sexy, beautiful, and smart, with just enough vulnerability to appeal to his protective streak. Anthony would have noticed the appeal she had for him last night. But, there was the other half of the equation. The fact that Natalie didn’t seem to like Anthony any more than he did. She’d been visibly startled when he’d called her “cousin,” and, damn it, she really did sound scared on that message.
“I don’t think so,” he said, answering Marc’s question. “I think she knows something. Something Anthony doesn’t know she knows, or at least doesn’t want her to share.”
“Why share with you, though? She barely knows you.”
“Yeah, but I’m charming as hell when I set my mind to it.”
Marc coughed obnoxiously. “So call her back, and take her up on the coffee. That’s a first date thing, you know. When a woman’s not sure she wants to commit to a real date.”
Christian gave him a dry look. “Thanks for the confidence. I’ll call Jaclyn first, then Natalie. Sounds like I’m heading back to the estate either way, and you’re coming with me.”
“You better believe it. After last night, neither one of us should venture into that viper’s pit alone.”
NATALIE DOCKED her phone, and snapped on her seatbelt, then backed hurriedly from the carport attached to her townhouse. Anthony had wanted her to live on the estate, but she’d declined. The main house was reserved during the day for vampires, but there was what used to be servants’ quarters in a building some distance away from the main residence, which was reserved for the various human staff. She could have bunked there, but it would have been too much like a college dorm, and she’d had her fill of that after her second year at Tulane. Besides, she hadn’t been that happy about being essentially blackmailed into working for Anthony, and didn’t want him any closer than necessary.
Instead, she’d rented this very nice, furnished, two-bedroom, two-story townhouse with no personality whatsoever. It was well located and functional, but with the bland décor, it had no soul. She’d managed to add a little bit of her own personality, sprinkling the rooms with family pictures, and the occasional knickknack. But it still didn’t look like a place where anyone lived. Maybe because she’d never intended it to be her home.
Right now, however, all she cared about was that it was close to the estate, with very little traffic between here and there at this time of night. And tonight that mattered, because she was tragically late. She’d tossed and turned most of the day, stressing over the message she’d left for Christian, worried that Anthony would somehow discover what she’d done, whether because he was tapping her phone, or reading her mind. Neither of which made sense. First, she was pretty sure he couldn’t read her mind. If he could have, she’d have been out of a job long ago, since she didn’t, for one minute, buy into his benevolent distant ancestor routine.
But that was logic. And there’d been no logic in her bed last night, as she’d rolled from one position to the next, trying to find a comfortable spot, and rehearsing in her head what she’d say to Christian.
And then there was Christian himself. She knew she should stay away from him. Hadn’t she convinced herself of that last night? He wasn’t good for her health or her heart. But she couldn’t stand back and watch him be murdered. She was convinced that’s what Anthony was plotting. He’d tried with poor, dumb Noriega. That had failed, but she had a feeling his next ploy would be a lot less spontaneous, and a lot more deadly.
Pulling up behind a line of cars at the red light, she called up her messages. There was only one . . . from Christian. Heart beating a thousand miles a minute, she hit play and listened to his deep voice as he assured her that he’d be happy to meet at her convenience, and asked her to call him back. But her heart almost stopped when he said he’d be at the estate tonight, in another meeting. Whom was he meeting? Was she already too late? She’d specifically asked him to meet her somewhere else, because she didn’t want him near Anthony until he understood the danger he was in.
She tapped the call back, listening to it ring as the line of cars started moving again. Christian’s phone answered almost immediately, but it was his voicemail.
“It’s Natalie,” she said simply. “Call me. Before you get to the estate, if you can. I’d really like to meet somewhere less crowded.”
Well, that was great. That sounded like she wanted a romantic assignation or something. She might as well have suggested they meet at the local motel. She groaned out loud, and kept driving. She had to get to the office. Anthony would wonder if she didn’t show up soon, and maybe even go looking for her. He might not be able to read her mind, but he probably could track her phone easily enough. If Christian had called, she’d have detoured to meet with him first, but now he was at the one place he shouldn’t be.
Feeling the weight of her decision, wondering how she’d gotten involved so deeply, so fast, she made the turn that would take her to the estate.
CHRISTIAN LEFT MARC with Cibor, and settled into one of the big, cushy chairs around the conference table, eyeing Jaclyn as she closed the door and sat on the other side of the table. The conference room was part of a suite of offices that Jaclyn had to herself, along with what appeared to be a sizeable staff. If anything, her offices were more palatial than Anthony’s, although it could be argued that the entire house was his, while only these few rooms were Jaclyn’s. It was worth noting, though, that Jaclyn had only one human on her staff, and that was her secretary. And he’d bet that all of her vampires owed allegiance to Raphael, just as Jaclyn did.
And that made him wonder again about the relationship between Anthony and Raphael. Cibor had said Anthony was bitter about Raphael’s decision to pull out of the South. But the resentment must have been building before that. Any way you looked at it, Anthony was beholden to Raphael, and he must hate it. He could never be truly his own man, and would always feel Raphael looking over his shoulder. And what about the other lords? They all had to know the true situation. Did they consider Anthony less than themselves? Not a full member of the Council? That would grate on Anthony’s every nerve, wouldn’t it?
“Christian Duvall,” Jaclyn said, scooting her chair back and crossing her legs. She was an attractive female. Dark-haired, sharp-featured. Intelligent, but with an edge that Christian admired in an opponent, but found off-putting in a woman. At least a woman who wasn’t an opponent.