‘Laura? You all right?’ Alec’s voice roused me.
‘Yeah, fine.’
‘I hope you never have to see anything like that again.’ He rose, went over to the washbasin and tore off a piece of paper towelling, wrapped it round his hand, then knelt and thrust it into the sparkling, sandy mound that had once been Russell, as though searching for something.
‘So, um… you wouldn’t have any timber furniture and stuff in your house, would you?’
‘As a matter of fact, I do.’ He pulled his hand out and gazed at a few splinters of wood, all that remained of—what must have been—a bullet-shaped object. ‘My father’s old dining suite. It’s the only thing I have left from him. But it’s made of elm—pretty safe. Only white oak’s poisonous. Once it gets into the bloodstream… You saw.’ He peered at the tiny, dark fragments. ‘It crystallises our blood.’
‘Like something from a sci-fi movie.’
‘Reason why we fear it. Once in the bloodstream it acts fast. Only if we’re shot in arm or leg is there a chance of survival, and only if it’s amputated in time before the cellulose spreads.’
‘Where was Russell shot?’
‘In the heart.’
Like snake venom, I remember Alec saying. Russell didn’t get that chance. ‘You said this was the second lot you’ve seen tonight. Where was the first?’
He looked at me as though deciding something then stood and deposited the bullet fragments in their paper towel wrapper on the bedside table. ‘Your boyfriend. Had six of them in his pocket.’
The force of his words hit me like a shock wave and at first I didn’t know how to react. Matt couldn’t have had those things on him, he would’ve told me. ‘No. I can’t believe that. It’s not possible!’
Alec’s lips thinned. ‘Why not? How well have you known him, Laura?’
Maris had asked me that about Alec. What about Matt? ‘He would’ve told me!’ I desperately wanted to believe we had no secrets from each other, especially something like this.
Alec laughed. ‘You really think so?’
I stared up at him.
‘I have no reason to lie, Laura.’
‘You’ve lied before.’ Here I was, clutching at straws again.
‘Only when absolutely necessary.’ A crease appeared on his brow.
I shook my head, unwilling to believe Matt would deceive me. ‘I can’t…’
His eyes narrowed and he came toward me. I scooted backward on the bed until my back pressed against the iron rails. Alec leaned in and placed his hands on either side of my head until our faces were barely a breath apart.
‘He was planning to kill us! Me, your father, our men, all of our kind. And in the process, what if he hit you? You’re half vampire, remember? That damned substance would probably kill you as well!’
I stared at him, hating the idea that Matt would do such a thing, yet the more I thought about it, I had to acknowledge that he might—he even suggested it. No, Alec had no reason lie to about something like that. What would he have to gain?
We gazed at each other for what seemed like ages, when he suddenly straightened, strode to the window and stared out.
I drew my knees up and lowered my head onto them. My head spun. Why did Matt have those bullets and did he plan to tell me… ever? I lifted my head and looked at Alec as he continued to stare out the window.
‘Is… is Matt okay?’
‘How commendable of you. Asking after his welfare when he was planning to murder your family.’
‘I have only your word for that!’
He turned and looked at me. ‘You really don’t want to admit you could be wrong about him, do you?’
‘I must give him the chance to defend himself.’
Alec huffed. ‘That’s going to be a bit difficult since he’s unconscious and won’t be doing any talking for a while.’ My expression must have said it all, for Alec hastened to add, ‘Don’t panic, he’s okay. He’ll live.’
I didn’t know whether to be relieved or angry, for if Alec was telling the truth, then Matt had a lot of explaining to do.
‘What did you do with the bullets?’ I asked.
‘Took them. Gave them to your father if you want proof.’
I nodded, not knowing what else to say. My mind was still processing the fact that Matt was intent on destroying my family—albeit the vampire side—in order to save me. There could be no other explanation. And in his eyes it wouldn’t be murder, because they weren’t human. I could understand his reasoning, but condone it? Never! For one thing he’d make matters worse by destroying my protectors, leaving me vulnerable to creatures like Maris and Russell. Or was he expecting to wipe them all out? It was ludicrous, especially as it wouldn’t end the curse and he’d only end up wrecking both our lives.
What hurt most, was that he kept it from me.
I glanced at Alec where he stood by the window, gazing out. The silence stretched out between us like a tight line.
‘I… um, didn’t get a chance to thank you for, ah, coming after me.’
He finally turned and looked at me. ‘You mean rescuing you.’
I hated the idea of a rescue as it went against my twenty-first century sensibilities. ‘Yeah, that.’
‘You thought I wouldn’t?’
‘Oh, I knew you would. You need me to maintain your exalted position.’
He huffed again. ‘First you call me a liar and now I’m a mercenary. Congratulations, Laura!’
‘Okay, okay, I’m sorry! But how do you expect me to react when you accuse my boyfriend of planning murder?’
‘White oak bullets are used for one purpose only. Why else would he have them?’
I sighed. What could I say?
He sat on the edge of my bed and said, unexpectedly, ‘What if I had been serious about sharing you with Maris?’
‘Terens told me a little about her and I reckon it wouldn’t have lasted.’
‘Really. And you’ve become a great expert?’
‘No, but if you’d loved her you wouldn’t have broken up!’ As I’m thinking of doing with Matt.
His eyes travelled to my mouth and lingered there. The butterflies in my stomach took off. Suddenly he straightened up. ‘You’re right. We’ll pursue this conversation later.’
The door opened and Luc strode back in, followed by Jean. ‘Nothing! Not a trace!’ Frustration laced his voice. ‘Rain’s washed away all traces.’
I barely registered what he said, affected still by Alec’s proximity.
‘What happened?’ Jean glanced around, took in the sandy crystalline mound partly covered by Russell’s clothing at the base of the window and his eyes narrowed.
Luc kicked the sandy heap. ‘Russell here, tried to take Laura.’
‘That’s Russell?’
‘What’s left of him,’ Alec said, as he passed the paper towel with its deadly contents to Luc. ‘Unfortunately, we didn’t find out who he was in league with.’
‘Probably whoever shot him is my guess; stop him from talking. Meaning they’ll try for Laura again.’ Luc eyed the bullet fragments then pocketed it.
I couldn’t stop the shiver that ran through me and hoped he was wrong.
‘They won’t succeed,’ Alec said. He must have sensed my fear. Of course, he could probably smell it.
Jean moved towards me. ‘I came to return this to you.’ He produced my mobile phone and passed it to me. ‘I took it from Douglas before Marcus’s sword removed his head. I also took the liberty of removing the offending material. I hope you don’t mind.’ His French accent was particularly pronounced.
I knew to what he was referring—the sadistic video Maris took of her torturing me. ‘Thank you.’
‘Alec is very fortunate.’ He slid his hand along the length of my cheek and down to my chin.
For some reason, his touch made me uncomfortable.
‘Jean!’ Luc’s voice cracked like a whip.
Jean blinked and dropped his hand. ‘Please, excuse me,’
he said, then turned on his heel and walked out the door.
I didn’t know what to think. He was Luc’s man as well as Alec’s friend and he helped in my rescue. Maybe he was just the intense type. His uncanny resemblance to Philippe, the young man I knew when I was eighteen, unnerved me and seeing him up close tonight, the similarity was eerie. Could it be…? Yet everyone called him Jean.
‘Laura?’
Alec’s voice drew me from my thoughts. ‘Yeah?’
‘I need to check your arm.’
He unpeeled the dressing and with a gentle prod here and there, tested my reflexes.
‘How bad is it?’ Luc asked as he pocketed his phone—after having spoken to Judy—and sat next to me on the bed. He took hold of my other hand.
‘No lasting damage, thankfully.’
Luc let out a relieved breath. ‘Her mother will be happy about. She isn’t exactly thrilled with me right now.’
‘Why?’ I asked.
‘Said if she’d had been in the room as she’d intended, Russell wouldn’t have tried anything.’
‘We don’t know that for sure,’ Alec replied.
‘She came here last night?’
‘Yes, ma petite. But she was exhausted, needed sleep. I persuaded her to go home and,’ he looked at me sadly, ‘promised her you’d be safe.’
‘Oh.’ I could understand why she would feel that way, yet I could just as easily sympathise with my father. I couldn’t begin to imagine how much he must be blaming himself. But Russell had been cunning and he obviously had help. He admitted as much.
As Alec cleaned and dressed my stitches, my head slipped back onto the pillow. An overpowering tiredness stole over me. I closed my eyes—only for a second.
Chapter 30
Jean
ALEC
I looked up after dressing and binding Laura’s arm. Her breasts rose and fell in a steady rhythm and her eyelids fluttered. She must be dreaming, I thought as I tucked the blanket around her.
Luc strode over to the window and strategically positioned two chairs to screen off Russell’s chalky dust, whose crystalline sparkle had begun to fade.
‘I’ll clean that up later,’ I said. Now that we were alone, I could bring up the subject of Jean with Luc.
‘Anything wrong?’ he asked as he came back and perched on the edge of Laura’s bed. ‘You’ve got that look on your face.’
‘I need to ask you something.’ We spoke so low, no human—even if present in the room—would have heard us.
‘What?’
I paused for a fraction. There was no subtle way to put it. ‘Is Jean in love with Laura?’
‘What makes you think that?’
‘Didn’t you see the way he looked at her? That touch on her cheek had nothing to do with avuncular affection. It was a lover’s caress. He masked his scent, but I still sensed it.’
He rubbed his hand down the side of his face. ‘I warned him.’
‘I noticed.’
There was a moment of silence before he said. ‘I’ve kept him away from her for as long as I could.’
‘How long has he felt like that towards her?’
‘Over thirty years.’
My eyes widened. How many other secrets was Luc hiding? ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
He sighed. ‘I was hoping it wouldn’t be necessary, especially since Laura doesn’t seem to remember him.’
‘They’ve met?’
‘When she was eighteen and on her European trip after finishing school. Cal and Jake went along to watch over her. Jean was in France at the time. Jake invited him over, as he hadn’t seen Laura since she was little. Came out of curiosity.’ From the expression on his face it appeared he blamed himself—probably thinking if only he had been there.
‘What happened?’
‘From what Jake told me, that first night when Laura and her friends went to dinner, the local boys wouldn’t leave her alone. Jean intervened and they struck up a friendship. He introduced himself by his middle name, Philippe. I flew out as soon as the jet was ready, but by the time I got there it had gone beyond the hand-holding stage. Jean was serious and Laura was returning his affection.’
Luc had asked me to accompany Cal on that trip instead of Jake, but I made some excuse. What if I had gone? What if…?
‘As I recall, you didn’t want to be involved.’
‘I had my reasons.’
‘Wish I’d known then.’ He gave me a lopsided smile before continuing. ‘I ordered him back to France.’
‘And a few months later he shows up here.’ Things began to fall into place.
‘Judy was worried as it wasn’t what we had planned for her.’ He looked at me meaningfully. ‘But she was a child still and we hoped she would get over it quickly. She had a place at university, and then of course there would be her studies as well as other distractions… and that’s exactly what happened. Laura came home, became caught up in university life and eventually “Philippe” faded from her thoughts.’
‘They didn’t keep in touch?’
He shook his head. ‘Eilene kept us informed. Laura had been infatuated but not in love.’
‘But Jean was.’
‘Yes,’ he said, then slowly added, ‘but he refused to go back. Said he had a right to love her… that he had as much Pictish blood in him as you.’
My hands gripped the sides of the chair I sat in tightly enough to crush the metal arms. If that was true, he could have challenged me at the Ritual. Why didn’t he? I rose and faced Luc. ‘The issue here is not so much the Pictish blood as his ancestry—the witch’s blood. Does he have that?’
‘Not sure. The thing is,’ he took a deep breath, ‘his mother told him his father was the Duke of Atholl.’
I groaned. The Duke’s bloodline was without dispute. More than a thousand years ago his estate lay smack in the midst of a once powerful Pictish kingdom. Was he descended from the witch, though? Did Jean have a valid claim?
‘I made a deal with him.’
I raised my eyebrows. It appeared Luc’s business methods spilled over into his personal life. ‘What deal?’
‘To wait till Laura came-of-age when she could decide for herself.’
I gasped at the sudden understanding. ‘So that’s why you asked me to meet her last Friday night.’
He nodded. ‘I was worried Jean might show up at the house or even intercept her on the way if she was on her own.’
It explained why Judith drove her straight to the front door of the cathedral.
‘That’s not all,’ he continued. ‘He was here the night before reminding me of our bargain, determined to speak to her. I had to forestall him somehow, told him Judy was going to reveal everything to Laura on her birthday… give her time to get over the shock… wait till the Ritual.’
‘He was okay with that?’
‘Not really, but I didn’t give him any other option.’
My mind flashed back to Monday night. Like everyone else gathered that night he would have seen the way our rings glowed even before we reached the pavilion. Laura had already made her choice. He knew it was too late. ‘That’s why he didn’t openly challenge me,’ I said aloud.
He nodded.
Luc’s machinations, which would have made Machiavelli proud, now created another problem—Jean would never trust Luc again even though they’d known each other for over two hundred years. It was a dangerous position to be in. Luc didn’t need to say that. It was evident on his face. Yet I sensed there was more.
‘Why me and not him? Surely a kinsman of yours, especially the son of a duke, would have been preferable?’
‘Perhaps,’ he began slowly. ‘But… I knew his mother the Duchess d’Orleans.’
My scalp began to prickle.
‘There’s the possibility he could be—’ he swallowed hard and added almost sheepishly, ‘—my son. Laura’s half brother.’
I shook my head in disbelief. ‘Does he know?’
‘No.’
�
�Do you plan to tell him?’
‘It’s my word against his mother’s. Who do you think he’d believe? How can I tell him he’s in love with his half-sister?’
‘Oh, Luc!’ I slumped back into the chair by Laura’s bedside. ‘If he’s half-vampire and half-human then…’ my mind was trying to keep up with this.
He uttered an oath in French, then stood, moved to the end of the bed and leaned his hands on the metal frame. ‘He never changed at puberty as I did. So I can’t be sure. But then it’s the Ingenii gene that makes the difference and I’m not a carrier, Judy is. Laura’s unique. Jean is not—that I know of!’
‘Okay. A DNA test will give us the answer. My lab can do it. I need a cheek swab, fragment of skin or even a hair. See if you can get it. It’ll take a few days, but at least we’ll know for certain, then you must tell him. I want to know if he’s got a claim or not.’ I ran my hand through my hair. ‘Have you considered what this’ll do to Laura? If she finds out Jean’s the man she met in Sorrento and he might be her half-brother…?’
‘Mon Dieu! How can I tell Judy!’
The longer I knew Luc the more I realised his perception of events was very different from my own. ‘That’s not exactly what I meant. You said that Laura doesn’t remember him?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’ He shook his head. ‘I watched her at the Ritual. Surely she would have said something if she’d recognised him? Did it look to you as if she knew him?’
‘Not sure. She did watch him closely as he returned her mobile and her eyes followed him out the door. I had to get her attention.’
Luc pursed his lips. ‘Let’s assume she didn’t.’
I hoped he was right. Yet it didn’t solve the problem of Jean and I had a feeling there would be no easy solution. His actions had the hallmarks of a man who refused to acknowledge his lack of hope, and a desperate man always clings to hope. His words from yesterday made chilling sense to me now. What if something were to happen to you? Indeed. But I couldn’t believe he would ever do me any harm. How excruciating must it have been for him, watching over her every day—without her knowing—then to stand silently by as she dated other young men; waiting and hoping, only to be thwarted at the end. His features hadn’t betrayed emotion, but I smelled his hatred.
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