He shoved the doors open with his power a moment before he reached them. A few of those waiting in line shouted in surprise—maybe because they’d been standing too close to the doors. He didn’t care. The bouncer gave him a quick glance, but most of his attention was fixed on the scene unfolding on the far side of the parking lot.
“You going to need help?” the bouncer asked, without turning his head.
“No. I’ll keep it quiet.” Christian passed the man another hundred, his gaze locked on Marc who was facing down no fewer than six human males.
“Good man,” the bouncer said. “Thanks.”
Christian strode across the lot, not bothering to announce his presence. Marc would already know he was there. The Sire link went both ways. The six humans were backed up against a line of SUVs and trucks, and Christian could see two more men lurking between the vehicles. He didn’t know if they were part of the gang, or had simply been caught in the wrong place when the confrontation went down.
Marc’s shoulders relaxed when Christian walked up behind him. He was fully capable of taking on all six of the men facing him, and the two hiding among the trucks, too. But not without making a scene, and he knew that Christian wanted to avoid that.
“Is there a problem, gentlemen?” Christian asked mildly, stepping up to stand next to Marc.
“Who the hell are you?” one of the men sneered. Not the biggest one, but the one standing a half-step in front of the others. The leader.
Christian regarded him curiously. “I’m the guy evening out the odds here. Six against one. Not very sporting of you.”
“It is when he’s a vamper. So move along, asshole.”
“How do you know he’s a . . . vamper?”
“Saw him seduce Ben here’s girl, that’s how. Walked right up and whammied her, so she’d bend over for him.”
Christian smiled, despite the seriousness of the situation. He strongly doubted Marc had bent the woman over anything. For that matter, he doubted Marc had whammied her either. Marc was his child, after all.
“I suspect the true source of your objection is that Ben here’s girl willingly offered herself to my friend, without the need for whammying. And perhaps Ben is now feeling somewhat inadequate in the face of his girl’s subsequent sexual satisfaction.”
The leader blinked at him for a moment, as if his alcohol-fogged brain needed time to process what Christian had said. When it finally hit him, he scowled. “You’re his buddy? Are you a vamper, too?”
Christian sighed. He looked over and exchanged a glance with Marc. “We don’t have time for this.”
Marc nodded. “I’m topped off, so if you want to conserve your energy for later . . .”
“No, I’ll handle it.” He raked his glance over the six men, noting the absence of the two who’d been idling among the vehicles. Apparently, they’d lingered to watch and had moved on when it became obvious that nothing exciting was about to happen. Unless one counted what Christian was about to do as exciting.
“Say good-night, Gracie,” he murmured. He pushed a little of his power at the humans, and watched dispassionately as they all slumped to the ground. And if he took particular pleasure in the fact that the leader’s head hit the ground a little harder than the others? Well, what did you expect from a vamper?
He smirked as the thought occurred to him, then turned at the sound of Marc’s chuckle.
“If that’s your idea of a brawl, we’re going to need a place to work out. Either that, or build a gym into the house.”
“We won’t be at the house long enough. By the time it’s built, we’ll be gone. But there must be a good dojo or two in this city, preferably with someone who knows Krav Maga. Texas is full of military guys, and the Special Force types typically endorse the discipline.”
“So we find a dojo, then.”
“I’ll probably be meeting Raphael’s rep, Jaclyn, tomorrow. I can ask her about a place, and there’s your friend Cibor. He’ll probably know, too.” Christian glanced around the parking lot, then down at the unconscious humans. “We should probably get out of here, before anyone notices these guys.”
“The bouncer saw—”
“He’s been taken care of. Let’s go.”
“ARE YOU SURE it was Christian Duvall who called?”
Natalie Gaudet rolled her eyes, thankful her back was turned so the other woman couldn’t see it. Anthony’s secretary, MariAnn, had asked this same question at least ten times in the last hour.
“All I can tell you is what the man told me. He said he was Christian Duvall, and he wanted an appointment. Lord Anthony was in his office, so I checked with him, and he said to schedule it for shortly after midnight.”
“But Christian’s never come to the office before. If I’d known he was—”