Come and get me, you bastard.
He is here. I can sense it, sense him, like ripples on the air that only certain animals register. Whatever our connection, faint as it may be now, it still exists, and it’s tingling now. I scan the foyer, locking on every male Asher’s height and weight, but no luck yet. Nathan performs the same task. There are so many people here, five thousand to be exact, it’s hard to examine them all and who knows how much his appearance has changed. He is in hiding after all.
Perhaps we should have brought in the authorities, or even let Dr. Black know where we were as Nathan insisted. My husband found himself outvoted. It was two against one as Alain and I dismissed the idea. Lord Augustus is well connected, word of their law enforcement involvement would more than likely reach him. That was absolutely not a chance we could take, full stop. If this plan should fail, the only other option left to us is witness protection. Changing our names, leaving our home, never seeing friends or family and praying Asher never finds us again. No. My husband and children will not have to endure that. Plus with all the bodyguards of foreign dignitaries around, one speck of trouble and an army of men with large guns would descend on the source. We’re trained agents with supernatural talents and weapons taped to our bodies. Nobody better mess with the Wests.
We make it through the foyer gauntlet to the overflowing ballroom. The orchestra plays a jaunty polka as the upper crust bounce around the dance floor or chat with their contemporaries off to the side. There are too many people both on the main floor and five tiers above to clock all potential threats.
“Holy shit, is that Steven Spielberg?” Nathan asks, pointing at the auteur.
“Yeah, and you know who the blond is? Princess Diana. Your sister’s gonna die when she hears you were in the same room as Princess Di.”
“She’s even prettier in person.”
I squeeze his arm with mine. “Head in the game, husband.”
“Right. Right,” he whispers, shaking his head. “Sorry. It’s just …
holy shit, is that Tom Cruise?”
“Probably. They’re just people, Nathan.”
“Well, forgive me if I’m not as jaded as you.”
He’s nervous. He could barely fasten his cufflinks at the hotel, his fingers trembled so hard. If I allowed it, I’d be the same mess. Not tonight. Every emotion I possess is locked away until I have the luxury of opening the box again for a much needed breakdown. But tonight, I must remain focused, sharp like the blade of the silver knife taped to my back. It’s the only way I’ll get through this night.
“We need to locate Augustus and Alain,” I say. “Let’s do a sweep down here and then move to the boxes.”
“Do you think Augustus will actually see us?”
“Doesn’t matter. Come on.”
We travel the oval room, checking every available face for our prey. I recognize a few monsters from boarding school, a vampire or two from the old nights, and not a friendly face in sight when they spot me as well. My debutante “date” Gerhardt is one of the familiar faces, though his hasn’t aged a day in over a decade. Guess his lover Heinrich made good on his promise to turn the teen. Forever seventeen, a fate worse than death. I smile at the boy, who promptly excuses himself from the group to rush off. My smile grows. “We have about five minutes before we’re summoned,” I whisper to Nathan.
At the five-minute mark, as we’re halfway up the side staircase to the second level, Gerhardt swans down straight toward us. “Gerhardt! Lovely to see you again. How have you been?”
Once more, he refuses to return my smile. “Lord Augustus requires your audience in his box.”
“Just the man we came to see,” Nathan says.
“Not him,” says the vampire, nodding at Nathan.
“And who’s gonna stop me. You?” Nathan asks menacingly as he takes a step up. “Try and I’ll send ten thousand volts straight into your head, frying your brain and boiling your stolen blood.”
“I—”
“Don’t test me, kid. I am in no mood.” Nathan’s lip twitches. “Lead the way, rent boy.”
Having no real option, save for causing an unwanted scene, the vampire escorts us to a fourth-level box filled with the glowering undead. I was never popular with my old circle of “friends,” but at least they hid their derision before. I’m surprised they aren’t spitting on me now. Byron appears about to, actually hissing as I pass him. But Asher instilled in me a sense of pride and calm while facing adversity, so I keep my head up and Mona Lisa smile plastered on.
At least there’s one friendly face here. That face isn’t that friendly at present, but I know it’s an act. Part of the scene to come. “I told you she would be here,” Alain says, sipping his bloody goblet beside the Lord. He stares into my eyes, and the faint smile drops. “Despite my express insistence a few nights ago.”
“When have I ever heeded your advice?” I ask with a cocky grin.
“And look where that mistake has led you, little Anna Asher,” Alain counters.
“Mrs. West,” I correct. “My name is Anna West now.”
“If you say so, dear,” Alain says, words dripping with derision.
I roll my eyes then divert them toward Augustus. “Your lordship,” I say with a curtsey. “I am not sure if you remember me. I’m—”
“I know who you are,” Augustus snaps. “The whole of Europe knows who you are and whom you seek. I have personally been accosted twice by the law this past week. I assume that is your doing.”
“Any known friend of Asher was interviewed. They didn’t target you specifically,” Nathan clarifies.
“And this must be the lightning bug husband,” Augustus sneers, sizing him up from top to toes. “Definitely a downgrade, Miss Asher.”
“Mrs. West,” Nathan corrects.
“A rose by any other name,” Alain says with a smirk. “Though you have taken her bloom, Mr. West.”
“No. Your psychotic, evil friend Asher did that. Or tried to, at least,” Nathan counters.
“Nathan,” I warn as I touch his arm. No shock. He’s calm. Good. “Lord Augustus,” I say, taking a step forward, “I apologize for any trouble we’ve caused you, I truly do, but I cannot stop the harassment. Nothing can except Asher’s capture.”
“It all goes away if you help us catch him,” Nathan clarifies behind me. “We know Didier Fournier worked for you once upon a time.”
“He worked for many people,” Alain chimes in.
“We don’t care if you facilitated the recent contract,” I say. “The past is the past. We just want to find Asher.”
“However, INTERPOL is digging into your financials and phone records as part of their ongoing investigation, which will continue until Asher is apprehended,” Nathan cuts in. “We now know Asher’s phone and bank routing numbers. One link and you lose your little fiefdom and possibly your life for facilitating the death of a former federal agent. Is he worth that?”
The lord’s thin lips purse in disapproval. “How dare you come here, making negative assertions about my character and threatening me?”
“It’s not a threat, sir. Merely a reality check,” Nathan says.
“Whatever it is, sir, you are ruining my night,” Augustus spits. “I do not know where your wayward lover is, Miss Asher, I have neither seen or heard from the man in over a decade, nor do I care to. Now, I suggest you both leave my city before I lose my temper, and INTERPOL has a true reason to investigate me. With the hornet’s nest you both have kicked, it would be impossible to narrow down the exact person that stung you both to death. Leave.”
“I warned you this would be a waste of time,” Alain says smugly.
I glower at Alain before returning to my husband’s side. “Come on. I need a drink.”
I attempt to take Nathan’s hand, but he jerks his away as if my touch would slice his hand in half. “Don’t.” Nathan spins around and steps toward the door. Two men stand in front of it and don’t move until Augustus clears his throat. Stil
l glowering, they step aside and Nathan stalks out with me at his impatient heels. Mission accomplished. Alibi established. I can breathe again.
On to Act Two. Tampa redux.
“Nathan, please wait!” I shout as I rush to his side.
“Have I ever mentioned how much I really, really hate fucking vampires?” Nathan asks, shaking his head. “I need a drink. Or twelve.”
We locate the bar on the main level, and Nathan orders a Whiskey Sour. I stick to Ginger Ale. Nathan knocks his back with one gulp. “Take it easy,” I say.
“Your old friends are uniformly assholes, you know that?” he states loudly before turning back to the bartender. “Another.”
“No, one’s enough,” I insist. I grab his hand again. “Come on. I want to dance. Let’s dance. Come—”
He violently yanks his hand from my grasp again. “I don’t want to fucking dance with you. And stop trying to manage me like I’m a fucking child, Anna.”
“I’m not.”
“The hell you aren’t! I’m pissed, alright? And I have every fucking right to be pissed. We’ve spent all our savings, I haven’t seen my kids in a damn week, and oh, your ex-boyfriend is trying to kill me, and it’s all your fucking fault! So no, I don’t want to dance with you. I want to go home.”
“Is everything alright here?” the man beside Nathan asks in a Swedish accent.
“Oh, fuck off,” Nathan snaps at the gentleman.
“Nathan!”
“You know what, Anna? You can fuck off too. I’m tired of chasing your damn ex-boyfriend around Europe. I’m tired of living under his fucking shadow, being constantly compared to him, your ‘great love,’” he snaps, using air quotes, “and coming up short. Well, I’m sorry I’m not some ancient jet-setting asshole who treats you like shit and gnaws on you like a chicken bone every night. I’m sorry I don’t take you to balls, and introduce you to dead poets who want to get into your pants. And I’m sorry I knocked you up, and you had to settle for me, okay? But I’m done. Done. You want each other? You can fucking have each other.”
At first I just stare at my husband, my mouth dropped open and trembling as he glares at me. Not good enough. I toss my drink into his furious face. “Go to hell, Nathan. Go. To. Hell.” I glance at the Swedish Samaritan. “You. You want to dance?”
“I—”
I take the stranger’s hand and drag him past our captivated audience comprised of more than a few vampires. Excellent. That piece of theater would be pointless without people to spread it around. The sacrificial lamb is now caked in blood. If my need of rescuing from my brute of a husband doesn’t entice Asher, nothing will. It worked with a werewolf in Tampa, why not a vampire in Vienna?
As the Swede sashays me around the dance floor, being smart enough not to speak while doing so, I catch sight of my scowling husband sitting at a table shooting me daggers when he’s not pretending to sip his whiskey. Eyes on each other at all times, rule number one. At the end of the dance, the Swede passes me off to the Russian for the schottische; who is replaced by the Scottish Laird for the Viennese waltz. I don’t even swat that one’s hand away when it rests on my rump. I’m so “beaten” and “miserable,” just staring into space as we twirl, I don’t see the point. Really, I have the strongest urge to knee the bastard in his kilted bollocks. Half an hour around the dance floor and still no sign of Asher. I’m beginning to think he doesn’t care about my manhandling. Or he’s turned on by it. He could go either way depending on which way the wind blew.
My molester insists on another dance. Then another. Come on, you bastard. Bite. Just as the fourth is about to begin, Alain taps the Laird on the shoulder to cut in. “May I have the honor, Miss Asher?” My scowl deepens on the outside, but inside I want to hug him. I put up no resistance as he wraps his arm around my waist, takes my hand, and begins twirling me around the room.
“Always rescuing me,” I whisper.
“Word finally reached me of your marital tiff. Excellent work. You are the talk of the ball.”
“Anything on our friends? Was Augustus telling the truth?”
“Yes. He has no knowledge of Asher, and Christine has not been seen in society for almost a week. And no one has set eyes on either tonight.”
“He’s here,” I say with utter certainty. “I can all but smell him.”
“How … disturbing.” Alain pauses. “Well, at least you can reclaim your belle of the ball title tonight if nothing else.”
“No, someone else can have that honor, thank you very much. I never wanted it in the first place.”
“Oh, come on, Mrs. West. Part of you must miss the glamour and intrigue of your previous life whilst you fold underwear and wipe snotty noses in the life you now find yourself shackled to.”
“Shackled to? You make it sound as if Nathan keeps me locked in the house to act as his maid.”
“Then why him, out of your undoubtedly many suitors? Though we have only been acquainted a short time, I am under the impression that despite his considerably impressive supernatural talent, he is rather … milquetoast. Was it simply because of the child?”
“What? No, that was a lie. I found out I was pregnant after we were married. And he is anything but milquetoast. I once watched him beat the hell out of a ghoul with its own arm. I married him because I fell in love with him. Because I wanted to build a life with him. He is the kindest, sweetest, funniest man I’ve ever met. He’s my best friend. My lover. My cheerleader. A loving, amazing father. He gave me the strength to beat back the darkness. He is my Valhalla. The best thing that ever happened to me. My gift from the universe.” I spot the man himself circling the room, still frowning at me, but for a moment, just a moment when I catch his eyes, the ire vanishes. A flash of a smile crosses both our lips in unison. I look away first before my hard-fought brick wall topples and my emotions spill out, knocking me out of this fight. “I have a favor to ask you.”
“Another? They are piling up, Mrs. West,” he chides.
“I know, just … look after Nathan. Please.”
“I beg pardon?”
“No matter what happens to me, however this ends, I want you to make sure Nathan returns home. He’s not to leave your sight tonight, not even for a moment. I don’t matter. Just … if it comes down to me or him … him. Always him. Please.” Alain stares down at me and after a second, a smile grows across his face. Confused, my eyes narrow. “What?”
“Nothing, just … the last time we spoke, your husband made me promise the same about you. You before him.”
I can’t help but chuckle. Great minds think alike. “Well … you were my friend first, therefore I win. Besides, Asher wants me alive. At least in the beginning.” I pause. “And if it comes to that, it would be better if everyone thinks I was dead. I know him. I know them both. Nathan won’t stop searching for me, and if he becomes a nuisance, Asher will not hesitate to eradicate him. He’s proved that once already.”
Alain stares at me again, though instead of amusement, his pretty face betrays his concern. I knew deep down he cared. “You intend to go with him.”
“If I have to,” I say without hesitation. “It’s simple math, really. If he gets what he wants, my family factors out of the equation.”
“But what of you? Are you really willing to spend centuries with that man? You know what he is capable of.”
“There is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep my family safe,” I say with a hard edge. “Including never seeing them again. They shouldn’t pay for my sins. It may be the only way. So, if it comes to that, I’m trusting you to make sure my sacrifice isn’t in vain.”
“You trust me?” he asks, barely hiding his shock and pride.
“Yes. You are family after all.”
“Well, the Borgia’s have nothing on us, do they?” he asks with a grin.
The song ends, and Alain and I stroll over to my irate husband and his empty whiskey glass, but he rolls his eyes and takes off in the other direction toward the bar. I glance at Alain, who fol
lows after him without a word. You can always count on family, right? I take this opportunity to sit down and rest my feet. I don’t care if it is uncouth, I kick off my shoes and rub my toes. Sure enough the woman across the table shakes her head. I narrow my eyes at the judgmental bitch. That’s enough to scare her away. I sigh. What—
Her.
Across the dance floor. Long wavy brown hair, right height and weight, back of her purple dress plunging so far I can see her bum crack. When she glances to the side even her profile’s the same. I quickly slip on my shoes and leap up. The bitch’s mine. Finger at the ready, and the paralyzing hex on my lips, I stride through the dancing masses. She’s vanished when I reach the spot. Merde! I … there!
She’s halfway to a side door. I push and shove my way through the crowd this time. I’m not losing her again. The door opens onto a small, dimly lit hallway. My heart beats so fast and hard I feel the drumming in my ears. Christine still in sight, I quicken my pace. I’ve been dreaming of this moment for over a decade. Just don’t kill her, Anna. Not yet anyway. She’s about the step into the powder room when I shove my finger against her bare back. I’ve got you, you bitch. “Placi—”
The woman twists around, blue eyes wide in shock. Damn it! It’s not her. The resemblance isn’t as pronounced up close. This woman’s nose is thinner, and her eyes are set closer together. The doppelganger begins chastising me in Finnish, and I back away. “Sorry, sorry.” She scoffs before retreating into the bathroom away from the crazy woman. Damn it. Damn it! I take a few deep breaths to calm myself as my confused audience watches. I almost hexed an innocent woman. Paralyzed her without a second thought. Who—
Witch Upon a Star (A Midnight Magic Mystery) Page 24
