Hungry For You - Argeneau Series - Book 14 Page 0,105

cuisine restaurant just like yours, here in Toronto, so close to yours, and only months after your own restaurant opened?” he asked, hands on hips.

She blinked in surprise at the question, and then admitted, “Well, I never really thought about it.”

“And he’s changed his name to Jacques Tournier to give himself more credibility because he doesn’t have the culinary school’s stamp of approval as you do,"he added dryly, and then frowned. “You really should have told me this earlier.”

“I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t important,” Alex said defensively. “And it still isn’t.”

“What’s up?” Bricker asked, leading Mortimer into the room.

“Jacques Tournier, the owner of Chez Joie, Alex’s biggest competitor, is also Jack Turner, the jerk who messed with her head in culinary school and got kicked out in disgrace for stealing her recipe,” Cale announced as if they would understand the significance where she hadn’t, and much to her amazement they appeared to.

“Interesting,” Bricker said slowly.

“More than interesting,” Mortimer said dryly. “That’s one hell of a coincidence.”

Alex’s eyes widened, and she turned on Cale with dismay. “You told them about Jack?”

“It wasn’t Cale. Sam told us some guy at culinary school broke your heart and stole your year-end project,” Bricker said absently, his expression thoughtful as he apparently considered the ramifications of Cale’s words.

“Maybe we’d better make a visit to Chez Joie,” Mortimer said quietly.

Alex turned on him with amazement. “Why? This is stupid. What—?” She stopped abruptly as she felt a ruffling in her mind and turned furiously on Bricker and Mortimer. “Cut that out. If you want to know something, ask me. Don’t read my mind.”

Bricker raised his eyebrows. “She’s more sensitive than most. She felt me poking around.”

Alex merely scowled. “What were you trying to find?”

“It’s all right, I found it,” he said with a shrug, and then glanced to Cale, and announced, “She hasn’t connected any of the events.”

“What events?” Alex asked through gritted teeth.

Cale moved to her side to take her hands, “Honey, you’ve had a lot of setbacks and problems recently.”

“Yes, I had noticed,” she said dryly. “It’s been one thing after another for months.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s just bad luck,” he said quietly.

Alex stilled. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated, and then said, “When I first found out about all the troubles you’d been having, it bothered me. It reminded me of my family.”

“Your family?” she asked with surprise, and then shook her head. “How?”

“You remember I told you my brothers were all soldiers?”

“Actually, you said warriors, and then claimed it was your English and you meant soldiers,” she said, recalling the conversation … and then she recalled how old Sam had said he was and raised her eyes to his, and said, “You really meant warriors, didn’t you?”

He nodded. “My father hired himself out as a mercenary. As my parents had sons, he trained each of us in battle, and we joined him until we had a small army. We were considered the best in the business. But we had a competitor, another immortal, Niger Malumus. He had his own small army of sons, and they vied for the same contracts. It was no big deal when both groups were small. They often ended up both being hired andfighting together and did so for centuries. But as each side grew in number, one or the other was hired rather than both, and they started competing for contracts. It was a friendly competition at first, but then it got less friendly … and then we started having a run of bad luck,” he said grimly. “Sudden accidents, horses going wild and throwing their riders, weapons with defects, small fires starting in the stables.”

Cale sighed and ran a hand wearily through his hair. “We didn’t realize it at the time, but one of our men was a traitor, paid to make these accidents happen. But those accidents were just the appetizer. Niger was working himself up to removing us as competition, permanently.”

“What happened?” Alex asked quietly when he paused.

Cale shook his head. “That’s the hell of it. We don’t know for sure. One day a messenger came with a supposed job offer. My father and eight of my eleven brothers rode out.”

“Why only eight?” Alex asked.

“I had been thrown from my horse that morning. One of those accidents that kept happening,” he said bitterly. “I’d broken my back in a fall from my usually faithful horse, who suddenly went wild and threw me into a tree. I was still healing. As for my