My eyes were drawn to another piece of material a few metres further on. I bent down to pick it up and my hands felt the sticky liquid that my sensitive nose had already identified; blood. Her blood. Lots of it. My chest constricted with sobs that tore through my body. My mother was dead. She sacrificed herself for me. And what had I done? I had abandoned her, left her to die. My knees buckled and I fell to the ground, unable to stay upright. I hugged the small pieces of material; they were all I had left now. I was alone. My rock was gone. The one person who had always been there had been snatched from me by them. Them. The Council.
My mind went back to the day before, when she had finally told me who we were always running from. Who and why?
It was all because of me. Because of what I was.
It was my fault.
‘No, my love. No, never in a million years is it your fault.’ She had pulled me close, stroking my hair. ‘It was my choice. Mine and your father’s. We knew the consequences of our actions. Our love was forbidden. But still we continued. And now, because of their fear of you, they hunt us.’
In hindsight, I think she sensed their close proximity. That was why she finally told me about my heritage and what that meant. Why the Council was hunting us so relentlessly. They were scared. Scared of me. How was that possible. I was just a slip of a girl. Twelve years old, what danger could I be to anyone?
* * *
The shaking stopped as I put the memories to rest. The pain was a dull throbbing at the back of my head that would remain there for a few more days. A trip down memory lane was always a nightmare for me. Always ending in the one question that I would never get an answer to; could I have saved her?
And now I worked for the murderers of my only kin. In the classic words of Michael Corleone “keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” I didn’t have any friends, so that left just them. They had no idea who I was. That was my secret. Aquanaris knew there was something about me, but obviously her “talents” were lacking as to explain exactly what I was.
No, they thought I was a shapeshifter, someone who could change into whichever shape I wanted at will. That put me way above the single shifters in the hierarchy of the paranormal creatures. My status was much higher than that of my two targets. They were bound by their animal sides. Only able to shift to their one brother creature. The Wolves were at the bottom of the ladder, the Sabres slightly higher. Me, I was somewhere high up above the Vampires and almost parallel to the Mages.
There had been many narrow escapes when pressed for more information. I guess my prowess at what I did for the Council terminating unwanted paranormal and human elements, was too valuable to them to press the matter of my heritage any further.
Chapter 23
Now that I had Metisse safely under control, it was time to cast my attention to the second person in the war; Gabriel, the alpha of the Werewolf clan.
He and Metisse couldn’t be more opposite. Metisse’s world was jet set, business executives and old money. The good side of town. Of the world actually. Metisse was highly educated. He lived in opulence, servants at his beck and call. His clan was made up of influential men and women in important positions within the community.
Gabriel was the leader of a biker gang. His pack kept to the dark side of the city. They moved through the ghettos where there was abject poverty. Their world was a dark existence.
I felt comfortable in either world. Though that of Gabriel spoke to me more because it was honest. Backstabbing there was exactly that, you got stabbed in the back—literally. There was no political underlying reason for what they did. They were up there, in your face. No second agendas. What you saw was what you got. I appreciated the honesty, even if it was brutal.
Metisse’s world looked beautiful on the outside but was just as merciless and rotten once you peeled away the outer designer skin. There no one could be trusted. All had agendas of their own, all wanted to make the next step upwards. Usually to the detriment of whoever was there at that moment.
Maybe the differences went deeper than just the place in society where the two groups resided. Wolves were pack animals. All for one, one for all. They lived and breathed for the good of the pack. The Alpha pair were the ultimate leaders, as long as they were strong enough. Felines were basically solitary, with the exception of lions. Sabres were a strange cross between solitary and group animals. Their hierarchy was a much more brittle one. As with the Wolves, it was based on power and strength, but not necessarily on the physical elements. They were much more political, clandestine, illicit.
Whatever it was, the two groups lived here in a rather fragile status-quo. Skirmishes around the territorial borders were dealt with swiftly and brutally, sometimes even by their own group members. Both leaders understood the importance of their peace treaty. It was the only thing that kept the two factions from annihilating each other, and any other being living in this part of the country.
This was Wolf territory and had been for centuries. The Sabres were the intruders. They settled here two hundred years ago. Their monumental superior numbers and strength quickly allowed them to carve out a substantial territory of their own to the detriment of the Werewolves. Metisse’s mother, the leader of the Sabres, had chiselled out a set of rules and laws and delivered them to Gabriel’s father with an ultimatum. Agree or die.
Faced with total extermination and now greatly decimated, the pack had no option but to agree. Peace was born. And with it the resentment that fuelled the Wolves. They had the short end of the stick and it showed in everything around them. The status quo was fragile—extremely so. I had to be careful that whatever I did didn’t lead to the other fraction. That could spark off the war that I was tasked to prevent.
So, how to kill Gabriel without the blame falling on Metisse?
Now that I had decided to let my new lover live, I had to make sure that I was not the accidental catalyst for his death after all.
This would take some serious contemplation.
Chapter 24
‘Hello, my dear. How are you?’ I recognised Charmaine’s voice. I don’t think I could have been more surprised. I picked up the phone, saw Metisse’s number and fully expected my lover to be on the other side of the line.
‘I hope you don’t mind that I’m calling you?’ she asked when I was slow with my reaction.
‘No, of course not. Happy to hear from you.’ It felt like I was stammering.
‘I was wondering if you have plans for this afternoon?’ she asked.
‘I do now,’ I answered with a laugh. ‘No, really. I don’t have anything that can’t be moved.’
‘Fantastic. How about we meet at the Country Club at two for a late lunch?’ The Country Club. I hadn’t been there yet. So, why not?
‘That would be great. I’ll make sure that I’m there.’ It was useless for me to offer to pick her up. My Jag wasn’t suitable for a wheel chair. It would only make things awkward.
‘Good. I will see you there. Just tell the Maître D that you’re my guest.’
‘Thanks. I will. See you at two.’
‘Looking forward to talking to you a bit more.’ With that she hung up.
OK, now that was an unexpected turn of events. Never in my wildest dreams had I expected her to contact me, or to invite me to a private meeting. It felt like an audience to royalty. I guess it was. As the matriarch of the Sabres, she had a status above all other females, above any of the Sabres for that matter. It didn’t surprise me that she had been the leader of the clan before Metisse. I would have to watch my step though. She was clever. She would see through any obvious lies. I had to get my act together for this afternoon.
Alex heard my side of the call and the curiosity was killing him. His eyes flitted from his laptop screen to me and back again. He opened his mouth a few times, then closed it again as he decided that it might not be a good idea to ask questions. As usual, I ignored him. The guy was seriously getting on my nerves. His meddling would get him killed one of th
ese days. Hopefully sooner than later.
I had just experienced two fantastic days of peace while he was off to the Council to report our findings. The minute he stepped back in the door this morning the atmosphere in the farm house changed. I hadn’t realised how irritated I’d become until he came back. Well, I’d just have to grin and bear it. There was no way that Cantix trusted me enough to let me do this alone. OK, I concede, Alex had been a smidgen helpful in finding out the initial information and guiding us here. Only now I didn’t need him around anymore. Worse, he was a hindrance. I had no use for a spy.
Finally, he couldn’t help himself. ‘Who are you going to meet? And where?’ he asked. I turned to look at him but refrained from answering. The look on his face was priceless. It alternated between disbelief and anger. Well, tough. I wasn’t going to humour him with the information.
‘The Council wants to know what you are doing and who you meet,’ he stammered. Did this guy miss all the hints? I was not in the mood for his meddling.
‘I am the official representative. You have to…’ He clamped his mouth shut as I stood up and bridged the distance between us. My demeanour was unmistakable. The fur on my arms had pushed through the skin, claws replaced my exquisitely painted nails.
He jumped up and stepped back, his hands raised in front of his chest in an attempt to ward me off. ‘You can’t hurt me,’ he sputtered. ‘I’m under the protection of the Council. I … …’
‘The Council isn’t here,’ I said softly. The ice in my voice registered and he shrank perceptively. Sweat formed on his brow and the tic in his face did overtime. He looked as though he was going to burst into tears.
‘Stay out of my business, Alex. Otherwise you just might have a very regrettable accident.’ His eyes opened to the max. ‘A very, very painful one.’ I stared him down, literally. After what to him must have seemed like an eternity, I stepped back and gave him some room. He bolted for the bathroom where I heard him throwing up. He’d better have done that in the toilet. If he made a mess, he would be the one cleaning it up. I left the living room with a major smile on my face. It wasn’t nice of me. So what? The little bugger at least knew what his position was here. If he had any sense in that thick skull, he would get off my back for a while. He could of course go tattle to the Council. But that would probably be more negative than positive. Cantix did not strike me as the type who appreciated whiney minions.
Chapter 25
The Country Club was exactly what I expected. An enormous white building in the middle of a golf course which sat proudly on a rise overlooking the more than forty hectares of beautifully tended grounds. The windows of the high-ceilinged building were full size, from the ceilings to the floor. Stately doors opened to a generous reception hall with windowed walls that allowed me to see right through into the restaurant and the greenroom at the back of the building. I was approached by a tall, slim man who must have swallowed a plank. He walked so stiffly upright that it hurt just to look at him. He was impeccably dressed in a dark charcoal three-piece suit with an almost imperceptibly lighter grey stripe. His greying hair was practically the same shade as the stripe. The only coloured items in his whole ensemble were his tie and pocket square that were in a very tasteful lavender; the exact same shade as the accent colour of the country club. His smile was painted on. Professional—calculated to be inviting. His hands were folded together in front of his chest. As he approached, his smile deepened.
I was about to introduce myself when he beat me to it. ‘Mademoiselle Trish.’ A real or a very good fake French accent. ‘Madam Charmaine has just arrived, and I will escort you to your table.’ So, he knew me. Or he knew of me. I shouldn’t be all that surprised. I was the talk of the town, the affluent side of town that is, due to my liaison with Metisse. There were no photos. I made sure of that. But my description would by now be general knowledge. And any Maître d worth his weight would make it his task to keep up with who is who. And probably who is doing whom. I guess I was interesting on both counts.
‘Please, Mademoiselle,’ he continued, ‘follow me.’ He turned and walked into the main club room, past the seated groups of affluent Waisland inhabitants who openly gawked at me. I kept a radiant smile on my lips and my eyes on the Maître d, not acknowledging anyone. I suspect the Maître took the long way to the garden room as we weaved in and out of the restaurant. He was making the best of the drama. Showing me off to the members. It was so chauvinistic and petty that it was almost funny. Almost. I had to stay in character, so I just kept on smiling.
We finally entered the gigantic conservatory. It was magnificent. Wrought iron and facetted windows opened the room up to make the best of the beautiful lake view at the back of the Country Club. I hadn’t seen that detail when I drove up. The effect was sublime. Every iron strut was decorated with beautiful fresh flower arrangements in cut crystal vases that stood on one metre high marble columns. The wall that linked to the stone part of the building was painted in the lavender and soft light green colours that gave the club its name; The Lavender & Lime Country Club. It was a throwback to the last century when this area had been full of deep purple lavender fields for the production of perfume. There were deep rattan chairs with the same lavender and lime shades in the thick cushions around low glass coffee tables. A little closer to the windows the club had placed dinner tables and high-back chairs in the same design. The undercarriages of the glass tables were dark olive-green bronze sculptures of animals. What could have been cliché was extremely chic. The balance perfect.
Charmaine was seated at the best table in the house. Situated near the window it boasted an unobstructed view of the grounds. There was one additional chair, for me. It was placed at an angle to Charmaine so that we weren’t completely opposite each other and could both enjoy the view. The Maître d singled to a waiter who rushed over to take my light summer coat. Another man materialised and pulled my chair back ready for me to sit down. First, I wanted to greet Charmaine.
‘Hello Charmaine.’ I walked over to her and offered my hand. She amazed me once again by moving the chair out and up so that she could kiss me on the cheeks without me bending down. Face was everything here. There was no way that she was going to have anyone tower over her. It was all in the details.
‘My dear,’ she acknowledged me for all the prying eyes to see. ‘I’m so glad you could come. As always it is good to see you.’ You could have heard a pin drop. All eyes were on us. People here sure were nosey.
I moved back to my chair and sat down as the waiter pushed it forward for me. Charmaine returned the chair to its normal seating height with a soft whirr and moved her legs under the table.
The Maître d took the bottle of white wine out of the cooler, dried the bottom with a white brocade cloth and presented it to me. It was a beautiful New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. I nodded, and he poured a small amount of the pale yellow-white liquid into the crystal glass. I took a sip, not bothering with all the pooh-ha of smelling and swigging the wine. I liked it or I didn’t. I wouldn’t pretend to be a connoisseur; I’d never be able to pull it off. The wine was sublime. A beautiful citrus taste that was refreshing. I nodded my appreciation and put the glass down. He poured again and placed the bottle back in the cooler.
‘Thank you for making my son so happy.’ Charmaine was definitely to the point. I think I blushed because she laughed.
‘He makes it so easy,’ I replied.
‘He is very enamoured with you. I don’t think that I have ever seen him so much in love.’ I had no answer to that. Mostly because of the nagging feeling that I was a fraud. I was starting to feel uncomfortable. I didn’t want to deceive either Charmaine or Metisse, but I wasn’t who they thought I was. True, I have feelings for him. Deep ones. Enough to make me change my mind on killing him. Still, I knew that his commitment was much deeper than mine.
‘I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, my dear.’ Charmaine covered my hand with hers, squeezing slightly to emphasise her words. She leaned
back in her chair. ‘I hope that you will be around for a long time.’ It wasn’t posed as the question that it was.
‘I don’t have any plans to leave in the near future,’ I answered with a smile. ‘Though I may need to take short business trips every now and then.’ She nodded her assent. The Maître d hovered to the right of the table. Charmaine smiled her acknowledgement.
‘My lady, shall I have the lunch brought out?’ he asked in a subdued voice.
‘Yes please, Pierre.’ The lunch? So, it had already been decided what we would eat. No secret where the power lay here.
He signalled to someone behind me and no more than thirty seconds later a platter of exotic salads and fruits was placed on the table along with delicate finger sandwiches. Cold fish and meats rounded up what I thought was a fantastic spread. The smells of the fresh ingredients were amazing. Nothing was overwhelming, all the scents stood out individually. The platter was decorated with edible flowers and carved fruits. It was truly glorious.
The waiter stayed at the table, unsure whether he should serve us or not. Charmaine waved him away in a friendly manner. We would help ourselves.
‘Please,’ she indicated the food. ‘Enjoy.’
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