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Fire Maidens: Paris

Page 23

by Anna Lowe

“With the help of those vampires,” Tristan pointed out.

  “It was Jacqueline who initiated it all,” Morfram shot back.

  “Um…” Natalie interjected, seeing the makings of a fight.

  “Jacqueline wouldn’t have dared go so far without their assistance,” Albiorix threw in.

  “Gentlemen…” Natalie tried.

  But Morfram spun on Albiorix, enraged. “Gargoyles did the reconnaissance for her.”

  “True,” Tristan agreed. “Gargoyles were in on it from the very beginning.”

  Natalie looked to Alaric, then Hugo. Surely, they would say something to halt the escalating fight? But they just stood there without uttering a word.

  Well, fine. She stepped forward, threw up her hands, and hollered a sharp, “Stop!”

  Everyone stared, and she stuck her hands on her hips. “Listen to yourselves. Yes, vampires, gargoyles, and a dragon worked together to stage that attack. But if we don’t cooperate now, we’ll never beat them.”

  Morfram, Albiorix, and Tristan shot one another slitty-eyed looks, while Alaric and Hugo exchanged… Wait. Smiles?

  Hugo winked at her. I knew you could do it.

  Natalie took a deep breath, trying not to get intimidated. Then she stuck a finger at each of the men in turn. “Squabbling is always easier than finding common ground.” She gulped, realizing that meant she had better lead by example and give Morfram a chance. “You have to be above that if you’re going to succeed.”

  “You?” Hugo asked, raising his eyebrows in a way that asked, Do you include yourself in that group?

  Natalie’s heart hammered. She had already made up her mind to stay in Paris, but this was a stark reminder of exactly what that entailed. Paris wasn’t all art galleries and pleasant walks in the park, and staying meant a lot more than spending time with the sexiest man alive. Accepting her role as a Fire Maiden came with great responsibility. There would be danger. Intrigue. Shifter-style politics. She chewed her lip, thinking it over one more time.

  Alaric shot Hugo a worried look.

  But the moment Natalie glanced at Tristan, she found herself replying without the slightest doubt.

  “We,” she said firmly. “We have to be above that if we’re going to succeed.”

  Alaric still didn’t look satisfied. “Succeed in what, exactly? Anyone can live in a fancy apartment and collect clothes.”

  Natalie saw red. She’d never been interested in such things. “That was Jacqueline, not me.”

  Thank goodness Clara came to the rescue then. “May I remind you Natalie never inquired about the perks?”

  Alaric replied with a low, unhappy grunt, and Natalie tossed her hands impatiently.

  “Look, you’re the one who was searching for a Fire Maiden. You found one, though you didn’t bother filling me in on all the details. Like this, for instance.” She held up her crystal.

  Alaric narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

  She shook it impatiently. “I know it comes from Liviana’s treasure hoard, but what power does it have?”

  Alaric looked blank. “It doesn’t have any. It simply reflects whatever power the bearer possesses deep inside.”

  Natalie just about keeled over. That power…that determination… That had all come from her?

  “But…but…”

  Tristan stepped forward. “You placed Natalie in danger.”

  Alaric shrugged. “We had to be sure she was the one.”

  “You nearly made sure she was killed,” Tristan muttered.

  Natalie crossed her arms. “Tristan was nearly killed too. One of your own men. How could you?”

  “Sometimes it is necessary to…shall we say, test a man for his virtues?”

  Natalie’s jaw dropped, and Tristan growled. “She could have died.”

  Alaric, damn him, simply nodded. “She would have, if she were not worthy. And yes, you would have died too. But as you can see, we are all here today.”

  Natalie put a hand on Tristan’s arm, holding him back. Before she could snap at Alaric, Hugo stepped between them and spoke.

  “I agree that Alaric’s methods were risky.” He shot the dragon a stern look. “But his heart lies in the right place. He only wants the best for the city.”

  “Would it be best if our Fire Maiden died?” Tristan growled.

  Natalie was about to glare at Alaric, but a weary flicker passed over his eyes, and she reconsidered. Alaric had dedicated a lifetime to protecting the city. His methods were definitely old-school, but she didn’t doubt he meant well. And, heck. She could only imagine what it was like to shoulder so much responsibility for so long — and all alone. For every loyal lieutenant, like Hugo, there had probably been a dozen Jacquelines, all plotting to overthrow him.

  Natalie looked at Tristan. No matter what obstacles she faced, she could manage them with her mate’s help. But Alaric had no one. Not a mate, at least.

  “I came to Paris with another dream,” she admitted. “And for a while, all I found was a nightmare. But now I have a different dream, and you helped me find it. A dream that will take a lot of work but can help a lot of people. Good people, like Philippe…Abdel…Yan…”

  Alaric’s blank expression asked, Who the hell are they? but Tristan nodded along. He’d met some of those homeless men and knew all about single moms struggling to make ends meet.

  “Sometimes I think she knows the city better than we do,” he pitched in.

  Alaric’s eyes darted between them, then finally rested on Natalie. “Do you really think you can do it? Can you live up to the measure of your ancestors?”

  Natalie considered for a moment, then turned the question around, too tired to play games. “I don’t know. What do you think?”

  Alaric looked her over slowly and finally flapped a hand. “You’ll do.”

  Hugo burst out laughing. “She’ll do? My friend, when was the last time the Guardians were blessed with a woman of such grit and character? Other than my dear Clara, of course.” He winked at his mate. “To have those qualities combined with royal blood is a rare gift, indeed.”

  Alaric sighed. “Fine. I agree on that count. But a Fire Maiden needs a suitable escort. Not this…this…” He waved at Tristan.

  “Hero?” Natalie filled in.

  “Lower-class warrior.” Alaric frowned then shrugged at Tristan. “Nothing personal, of course.”

  “Of course,” Tristan muttered.

  But Natalie exploded. “Lower-class?”

  Alaric merely shrugged. “Humans — especially you Americans — don’t understand such things. But bloodlines are important. Your lineage is royal.”

  “So was Jacqueline’s, correct?”

  Alaric’s face soured. “A drop of royal ancestry. Your blood is thick with it. And as a Fire Maiden, you have certain standards to uphold.”

  “Standards? Like Marcel?”

  Alaric looked at Morfram, who looked at his feet. “I admit my nephew was an unfortunate choice, and I have reassigned him accordingly.”

  Natalie raised an eyebrow.

  Hugo grinned. “Tunisia.”

  Tristan chuckled, while Liam burst out laughing. A moment later, they both covered up by coughing.

  Alaric glowered at them then turned back to Natalie. “No need to preoccupy yourself, my dear. We will find you a suitable mate.”

  Obviously, Alaric wasn’t the type to sniff out every nuance in a person’s scent. Which left Natalie in a dilemma. Should she come out and let Alaric know she was already mated?

  Nah, she decided, shooting Tristan a wink.

  “Maybe I already found one.”

  “I said, suitable.”

  Natalie stepped closer. “I will be the one to choose my own mate, do you understand? One that’s not just suitable, but the best.”

  Tristan stood a little straighter, and she could feel his inner dragon glow.

  Alaric glared, and Natalie hoped he wouldn’t stand up and shatter the confidence she’d mustered. But she was fighting
for Tristan now, the way he had fought for her. So she dug deep and glared back.

  “Tristan risked his life for me — not because of orders or royal blood.” She made air quotes around the royal part. “Just because I’m me. Marcel, on the other hand, was only interested in power.”

  Alaric made a face. “If you had given him a chance…”

  Natalie shook her head, standing her ground. This was it. Alaric might be scary as hell, but she had to set things straight, once and for all.

  “No, I’m giving you one chance. You want me as your Fire Maiden? Fine. I accept — but on my own terms.”

  Alaric’s glare said, I’m the one who gives orders around here.

  She went on before he could protest. “I stay. I pick my own mate…” She glanced at Tristan in spite of herself. The second their eyes met, her heart leaped. “In my own time.”

  Never mind that she already had. Somehow, guarding that secret from Alaric made it even more special.

  “In the meantime, I commit myself to helping your cause, but in my own way. If I want to work in a soup kitchen, I will. If I find a better way to serve the city, I will do so. My life. My choices. You got that?”

  Alaric’s face was red. “Fire Maidens do not mingle with commoners. They cannot be placed in danger.”

  She jerked a thumb toward Tristan. “You’re forgetting about my bodyguard.”

  Tristan braced his legs and crossed his thick arms. He was trying to do that vacant, stare-into-the-distance thing the Queen’s guards in London did, but Natalie caught the hint of a smile playing around his lips.

  “I think our Fire Maiden has proven capable of protecting herself.” Hugo grinned.

  Natalie did too. Soon, she would be able to protect the city and protect herself, as Liviana’s daughters had in their time. She could turn into a dragon and fly away from vampires.

  Better yet, incinerate them, her inner beast rumbled.

  Smiling, she imagined a long plume of fire. Of course, she still had to learn, but Tristan had promised to walk her through every step.

  “And you never know,” Clara added, winking at Natalie. “If she happens to find herself a nice dragon to mate with — by her own free will, of course — she’ll become a dragon shifter. I’d like to see the vampire who would dare threaten her then.”

  Morfram shrank back, and Natalie hid a smile. If only they knew.

  My mate, she whispered into Tristan’s mind. Forever.

  Forever. Tristan’s eyes blazed.

  Behind him, Liam grinned, and she could picture him joking, And the sex is bloody amazing, or so I’m told.

  That, Natalie could attest to, but she bit her tongue. The idea of a vampire bite made her nauseous, but a mating bite from Tristan…

  Her body heated all over again, and she struggled not to let it show.

  But Alaric, the old curmudgeon, still frowned. “The ancient spell works best when the city is ruled by the strongest bloodlines.”

  Natalie cleared her throat and ran over the arguments she’d practiced. “Claudine d’Islay — she was one of the most powerful Fire Maidens, right? About two hundred years ago?”

  Alaric stared, and Natalie did her best not to look smug.

  “I read about her in one of your books. Her mate didn’t come from noble stock. Breselan was a knight who proved himself in battle.” She glanced at Tristan. That certainly fit. “Then there was Elizabeth Rhydderick — over in England in the seventeenth century, I think.”

  “Eighteenth,” Alaric muttered.

  Natalie nodded. “Her mate was a blacksmith, as another of your books pointed out.”

  Alaric frowned. “Your point is…?”

  Natalie kept her cool. “The spell is at its strongest — and the city most peaceful — when the Fire Maiden isn’t just in residence, but happy. Truly happy, in a way few people ever know.”

  Hugo and Clara nodded knowingly, and Natalie held her breath. Was it greedy to wish for that kind of happiness for herself?

  It’s not a wish. It’s destiny, Tristan whispered into her mind.

  Natalie resisted the urge to cuddle up to him — or better yet, to kiss him. But their kisses had a way of getting out of control, and she had a meeting to wrap up first. So she crossed her arms and faced Alaric.

  “Those are my terms. Do you accept?”

  Alaric’s face was stony, but Hugo laughed. “My friend, you have your heart’s desire. The city has a Fire Maiden again — a formidable one. What else could you wish for?”

  Alaric grimaced. “A little more willingness to comply with orders.”

  “Then you’d be wishing for a weak Maiden and a dim-witted man at her side,” Hugo pointed out. “That is not what Paris needs. Besides, a powerful Fire Maiden will allow you more time off.”

  Alaric’s eyes brightened, though he cleared his throat gruffly a moment later. “We’ll see about that.” Then his face went stony. “Let us not forget that danger remains.”

  Everyone leaned forward, and Morfram uttered, “What now?”

  The lines of Alaric’s face deepened. “Jacqueline. We don’t know where she’s gone, but we know she was in contact with the Lombardi clan. They might not have dared enter the city on their own, but they have been waiting for an opportunity to stage a coup. They will be looking for our weaknesses.”

  “So we’d better not have any,” Natalie said. “And we won’t as long as we work together.”

  Tristan shot Morfram a suspicious look, while Morfram scowled at Albiorix. Alaric frowned at everyone. But Natalie made herself meet each person’s gaze, and gradually, the suspicion gave way to determination.

  “We work together,” Morfram finally said, and everyone’s head bobbed.

  For the next few minutes, the air was thick with tension as each of the Guardians renewed their vows to protect the city. Then Alaric sighed and turned back to Natalie.

  “I suppose you’ll be moving in to the palace as soon as possible.”

  Natalie stood very still. Palace? Whoa. How much of an inheritance came with the job? “I prefer Tristan’s apartment.”

  Alaric stared. “That inadequate little place?”

  She resisted the urge to burst out laughing. “It’s more than I ever dreamed of.” Besides, it already felt like home.

  Home, her heart sighed. With Tristan.

  Alaric must have caught her blissful expression, because he heaved another theatrical sigh. “Any other demands?”

  “No more demands,” she said cheerily. “Oh, except maybe meeting with you weekly.”

  “I run this city,” Alaric growled.

  She stuck up her hands. “Believe me, I wouldn’t want it any other way. But I need to know how I can help and what I have to be aware of. Would that be all right with you?”

  Alaric pursed his lips and an agonizing minute passed. His gray eyes swept over her, taking stock in a whole new way. Finally, he gave a tiny nod and grunted, “Sundays. In the morning. Eight o’clock, sharp.”

  “Eight o’clock would be perfect.”

  Tristan groaned in her mind. Eight was sinfully early in his book — especially on a Sunday. But Natalie was sure it wouldn’t last more than a few weeks. It was just another test — an easy one that didn’t put her life at risk. Once Alaric understood she was truly committed, he would back off. Besides, she doubted he had any desire to start his Sundays early either.

  “Perfect. Thank you.” She bent into a little bow. “I guess we’ll be going now.”

  Tristan nodded immediately, and Hugo grinned. “Yes, you’d better be going. You and your…bodyguard.”

  Natalie’s blood warmed. She and Tristan had gone a whole two hours without having sex, and she was starting to feel the itch again. But, crap. Was it that obvious?

  A moment later, she decided love was nothing to be ashamed of. So she hooked her elbow through Tristan’s and smiled her goodbyes — including one for Morfram, though that one was a little forced.

  “Thank you, everyone. I mean
it.” Her voice cracked when she looked at Clara. “Thank you.”

  “No, thank you,” Hugo said, bowing his head.

  Alaric maintained a grumpy silence, but Natalie figured she would take what she could get. Then she turned for the door, patting Tristan’s hand. When they stepped into the sun-drenched courtyard outside, a weight fell from her shoulders.

  “We did it,” she whispered, striding away quickly.

  Tristan brushed his lips over her knuckles. “You did it.”

  “That was a team effort, and you know it. But, whew. There were moments there…” She trailed off.

  Tristan sighed. “I have to keep reminding myself Alaric means well.”

  Natalie chewed that one over. “He does. And I almost feel sorry for him, leading on his own for all that time.”

  Tristan made a face. “Almost.”

  She laughed. “Think about it. All those years without a mate…”

  Tristan’s arm slid from her back to her rear. “True. I’ve gone two hours without touching mine, and it’s already driving me crazy. It’s a miracle Alaric hasn’t gone completely mad.”

  Natalie laughed, then went somber. “Maybe he never met his mate — the way I would never have met you if I hadn’t come to Paris.”

  “We would have met. Destiny wanted us together. Even a lower-class warrior like me knows that.”

  Natalie put a finger to his scowl. “Lower-class? Don’t get me started.”

  “But—”

  She shook her head firmly. “Just hush.”

  “Hush? Are you ordering me around, woman?”

  “No, I just need all my concentration to get to the end of the street without kissing you.”

  Her mind was already skipping ahead to all the fun they could have at home, but the sound of someone clearing his throat made her and Tristan both turn.

  It was Liam, hurrying to catch up. He faked exasperation. “I know it’s Paris, but still. Can we please limit public displays of affection?”

  Natalie laughed. “Sorry.”

  “Not sorry,” Tristan growled.

  Liam ignored him, grinning from ear to ear. “I wish I’d had a camera to capture the look on Alaric’s face when you laid out your terms.”

  Natalie’s knees wobbled a little. “I’m just glad it’s over.”

 

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