“What are you?” he gasped, staring from Raphael to Cyn, and then beyond her to Nick and Juro.
Raphael smiled slowly, letting his fangs slide into terrifying view. Briley opened his mouth to scream but could only choke wordlessly as Raphael took away his voice. Cyn frowned. Or maybe it was his air that had been taken away, since he was now turning a pretty shade of purple.
“Raphael,” Cyn said softly, even as Nick started forward behind her. She put out a hand to stop him at the same instant that Briley sucked in a harsh breath.
Raphael took a moment to swing his head around and aim a threatening glare at Nick. “I know my business, sorcerer.”
“Then, let’s get on with—” Nick started to argue, but it was Cyn who shut him down.
“You weren’t there in Hawaii, Nick,” she murmured. “I was. So be quiet.”
Nick gave a put-upon sigh, but didn’t say anything further.
“Your friend stole the manacles,” Raphael continued to Briley, his voice quiet, but filled with menace. “Or maybe you conspired together to steal them. But then you got greedy, so you killed him and sold them on your own, taking all the money for yourself.”
“We didn’t steal anything,” Briley insisted. “You broke free and that Mathilde woman never came back. Those handcuffs, or whatever you call them, were just lying there.”
Raphael huffed a laugh. “You object to being called a thief, but murderer is just fine?”
Briley looked away. “I wasn’t the one who killed him. All I did was recover the handcuffs after he was dead. They were half mine anyway.”
“You’re lying,” Raphael said flatly. Briley opened his mouth to protest, but Raphael continued. “But then, I don’t give a fuck whether you killed him or not. I know you sold the manacles, and I want to know who your buyer was.”
Briley was shaking his head in denial. “I don’t know who he is. The site is set up that way. He used a fake name like everyone else.”
“What did he look like?”
“We never met. He wired me the—” He screamed, or at least he tried to. What came out was a high-pitched squeak as Raphael clamped down on his air once again.
“You’re lying again. Now tell me what I want to know, or I’ll rip it from your screaming mind.”
He shook his head helplessly. “He’ll kill me if I tell you.”
Raphael raised an eyebrow. “What’s your point?”
Briley deflated, head hanging, his words a resigned mumble. “He called himself Frederick. An old dude with a British accent.”
“How much?”
For a moment, Cyn thought Briley would refuse to answer, and she wondered if the money was worth his life. Because, while Raphael might seem outwardly calm, she knew better. He was riding a fine fury that was just begging to be set free.
Briley finally seemed to sense his danger. “A hundred thousand dollars,” he admitted. “Cash.”
“A hundred thousand dollars in your pocket, and you’re staying in this dump?” Nick commented, then turned to Raphael. “We don’t need him anymore. I know Freddie. And you . . . ,” he added, speaking to Briley. “You’re lucky to be alive. Freddie’s not above killing to get what he wants.”
Briley’s alarmed gaze traveled from Raphael to Nick and back again. “Who are you people?” he asked again.
“Your worst nightmare,” Nick intoned, and Cyn turned to give him a disbelieving look. “What?” he asked. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”
She shook her head slightly, then moved up to touch Raphael’s arm. “Let’s go,” she said quietly.
“He killed his partner,” Raphael reminded her.
“Not our problem.”
He turned to give her a quizzical look.
“I’ve taken care of it,” she said, meeting his eyes.
He stared at her a moment longer, then smiled slightly and said, “We’re leaving.”
Several things happened after that. First, Briley nearly fell out of his chair as Raphael suddenly released whatever hold he’d had on him. At the same moment, Juro stepped away from the door and yanked it open. Cool air rushed in, and out in the parking lot, the rest of Raphael’s guard snapped to attention. The three SUVs had been moved into place, and his guards now scrambled to provide a security barrier between the vehicles and the rest of the parking lot. Off to one side, Elke straightened to attention, her mouth turning up in a cynical half grin when she spied Cyn.
Raphael herded Cyn toward the exit with a hand against her lower back, while making sure to keep his body between her and Gary Briley. Cyn thought this was overkill. Briley was no threat to her or anyone else in their party. Sure, he’d killed his buddy—a crime for which she’d done her best to see that he paid, having sent all of the evidence she and Nick had separately gathered to the local police. Notwithstanding his recent felony, however, she didn’t think he was crazy enough to attack Raphael.
As they exited the room, Juro stepped over and opened the back door on the nearest SUV. Raphael started for the vehicle, still hustling Cyn ahead of him, but Nick’s voice stopped him.
“What now, vampire?”
Raphael waited until Cyn was safely inside the vehicle, before spinning to confront Nick. “You said you know this man.”
“Frederick Chapman. He’s a flunky, a front man for Isaac Marshall, who’s the real collector.”
“Where will we find Marshall?”
“He has a place in Florida, but his main estate is in Dobbs Ferry north of New York City. That’s where his collection is, and this time of year that’s where he’ll be.”
Raphael nodded his understanding. “Dobbs Ferry is a drivable distance from Manhattan. We’ll meet you there in two nights. My Cyn will send you the details.”
“We need to lock down Briley first. I don’t want him trying to cover his ass by warning Marshall, either directly or through Freddie.”
Raphael lifted his chin in Juro’s direction, then gave Nick an impatient look. “Done. Are we finished here? I’d rather leave before all of this activity brings unwanted attention.”
“Afraid of little blond vampire hunters named Buffy?” Nick half-joked.
But Raphael wasn’t amused. “No, the police,” he said coldly. “We’re leaving.”
He climbed into the SUV without another word. Cyn leaned over just before he shut the door in Nick’s face and called, “I’ll text you our address!”
She caught Nick’s grin and then the door closed.
“You two are going to drive me nuts,” she muttered. “You should both go home and let me deal with this alone.”
“In your dreams,” Raphael growled, pulling her away from the window and snapping her seatbelt on before sliding his arm around her. Up front, Juro gave the order for the driver to move out.
Cyn gave Raphael an amused look. “I bet you never used that phrase before you met me.”
“I never did a lot of things before I met you. I had a nice, peaceful life.”
She laughed. “You mean boring, I think.”
He smiled, then leaned over to kiss the top of her head. “I love you, my Cyn.”
“Love you, too, fang boy.” She was quiet a moment, then said, “Listen, as long as we’re going to be in Manhattan anyway, I might as well call Sarah and—”
“You’re not going shopping.”
“Why not?” she demanded.
“Because the last time you two went shopping, you were kidnapped.”
“Pfft. An aberration. And we escaped, didn’t we?”
“Yes, but I aged fifty years.”
“Only fifty? I think I’m worth at least a hundred.”
“You can shop as long as you go at night, and Elke goes with you.”
Cyn considered it. She didn’t really need
his permission to do anything, but she doubted Sarah would go against Rajmund’s wishes on the matter, and Raj was certain to go along with Raphael and insist on a vampire guard. And, besides, things were tense with Christian consolidating his power and wrapping up the war in the South, not to mention whatever the hell was happening up in Canada with Sophia.
“Done,” she agreed. She was silent for a moment, then clapped her hands. “We’re going shopping!” she said, putting a little bounce into the words mostly to irritate him.
“After we’ve recovered these accursed manacles.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, brushing away his words. “Work before play and all that tedious shit. But then . . . shopping!”
Raphael just shook his head and pulled her closer as they sped through the night back to Kansas City.
Chapter Six
New York City, New York
IT WAS ONLY a three-hour flight from Kansas to New York City, but by the time they got back to the airport in Kansas City, it was too close to dawn to make the trip. If they’d left then, with the time zones working against them, they’d have arrived in New York after sunrise. And that would have required human pilots, and then sleeping the entire day at the airport. Raphael was willing to compromise when the situation demanded it, but in this instance it definitely didn’t. At least, not as far as he was concerned, and Cyn agreed.
She was beginning to wonder what the real story was with Nick and the Amber Manacles. After their little conversation with Gary Briley, they had not only the buyer’s name, but it turned out that Nick actually knew the guy. So, why couldn’t he just contact this Isaac Marshall and offer to buy the damn things? Surely Marshall would be willing to sell for the right price, especially if that price was high enough to permit him to buy a few other items for his collection. It’s not as if the manacles could be used for much, not as if they were a magic lamp or a genie in a bottle or anything. Unless you planned on holding someone prisoner with them, you were pretty much out of luck.
She was still thinking about all of that when the sun set on their second night in Manhattan. They’d made the short journey from Kansas City the previous night, but rather than hustle from the airport to meet Nick, they’d taken time to settle in properly. Raphael owned a gorgeous townhome in Manhattan, one that was fully renovated to accommodate vampires. There were three separate sleeping vaults, two private ones—including the one Raphael and Cyn shared—and then one big vault that was split into smaller rooms for Raphael’s security staff and whoever else happened to be travelling with him.
Nick was staying at a hotel, and so Raphael had agreed that the three of them should meet at the townhouse to plan their next steps. He wasn’t happy about having Nick in the townhouse, but he’d agreed to it. For Cyn’s part, the constant antagonism between the two of them was beginning to wear on her in a serious way. More and more, she found herself contemplating how easy it would be to do this job on her own. A quick in-and-out burglary with no one the wiser. In fact, she was wondering why she hadn’t insisted on just that from the very beginning. There were some things that should never be attempted by committee, and burglary was definitely one of them.
Getting dressed for the evening, she pulled a sweater over her head and looked up to find Raphael studying her with a knowing look on his handsome face. He was altogether too good at figuring her out, even though he swore he never probed into her thoughts. She was confident she’d know if he snooped in her head, but he’d had nearly five centuries to observe human behavior, and he knew her too damn well. Time for a distraction.
“Did you call Raj?” she asked, sitting down on the bed to pull on her boots. “I mean, since we got here,” she amended, since Raphael had called his fellow vampire lord before leaving Kansas, in order to secure permission to visit New York. It was common courtesy and just plain good planning for Raphael to call Rajmund, who ruled the Northeastern territory, before they arrived. And then there was the whole shopping excursion to plan.
Raphael eyed her silently. His expression didn’t give anything away, but she knew he thought she was up to something. “We spoke earlier,” he said finally. “If there’s time, we’ll be meeting before we leave.”
“You and Raj can have a drink while Sarah and I shop,” she suggested brightly.
He rolled his eyes. “Are you ready?”
She stood and stamped her feet in her boots. “Ready, master.”
He stood and threaded his strong fingers through her hair, tugging slightly so she looked up at him. “Remember that, lubimaya.” He kissed her softly, smiling at her confused look. “Remember who truly is master around here.” Cyn went to punch him, but he caught her fist with a laugh. “Come on, let’s go see what that damn sorcerer wants now.”
He took Cyn’s hand and led her out of their suite and down the stairs. All the while, the same idea kept running through her thoughts . . . it would be so much easier if I did this alone.
NICK HEARD FOOTSTEPS on the marble and turned in time to see Raphael and Cyn round the bottom of the stairs. They were holding hands. Wasn’t that sweet? He had no doubt Raphael was possessive as hell when it came to Cyn, just as he had no doubt the vampire’s usual possessiveness was on steroids these last few days. He took no small amount of pleasure from knowing that he was the cause of the vampire’s agitation, but at the same time, he was forced to admit that he envied what the two of them had. As much as he didn’t want to see it, there was no doubting the strong connection between them. Raphael didn’t just desire Cyn, he didn’t only want to own her, he actually loved her. That was an emotion Nick couldn’t recall ever seeing from a vampire as powerful as Raphael. Vampires like him owned people, even their lovers. They didn’t love them, and they sure as hell didn’t commit to a monogamous relationship with one of them.
Nick looked at what Cyn and Raphael had, and he wanted it for himself. He longed for it. He was so tired of being alone, of searching for his warriors and fearing that he’d never find them, that he might be alone forever. Sure, he had people who worked for him, good people whom he cared about. But he didn’t have friends, didn’t have the camaraderie of his brothers-in-arms. And he sure as hell didn’t have a lover waiting for him to come home at night.
He gritted his teeth, wondering what had come over him lately. Maybe it was being around those two for days on end. He needed to recover the manacles and get the hell away before they had him drinking the same happily-ever-after Kool-Aid.
“Hey Nick,” Cyn said brightly, but she didn’t try to hug him. Apparently, the vampire had drawn the line on that. “How’s the hotel?”
“One of the best in the city, darling. Don’t worry about me.”
“We’re not,” Raphael said flatly. He pulled Cyn down to sit next to him on one of two facing couches and gestured for Nick to take the other. “Tell me about this collector.”
“Us,” Cyn corrected him, with a scolding look. “Tell us about this collector.”
Raphael squeezed her hand and leaned over to brush a kiss over her temple in apology. How sweet. Fuck, he needed to get away from here.
“You want to know about Isaac Marshall,” he said briskly.
“Right,” Cyn said. “But first, I have a question. Why not just buy the manacles from Marshall? I know it’s not a question of money, so what’s the deal?”
“You underestimate the mindset of a collector. Marshall’s collection is one of the top five in the world, and it didn’t get that way because he was willing to sell. In fact, I’ve never heard of a single piece from his collection ever going up for auction. He acquires, he doesn’t sell.”
Cyn frowned. That actually made sense. She’d known people just like that when she was growing up. Her father, when it came to his art collection, for example.
“Cyn, I know you’ve already done a computer search on him,” Nick said, changing the subject. “What
’d you find?”
She nodded. “He’s a boring man who heads up a private family trust and sits on the boards of two very significant publically traded corporations. If it weren’t for his money, he’d be invisible.”
“That’s it?” he asked, a little disappointed. He’d have expected Cyn to see the man behind the façade.
“Give me a little credit,” she said dryly. “No one’s that invisible, not with as much money as he has. So I went looking in all the wrong places. He’s got some very unsavory, albeit legal, hobbies, though he does a good job of hiding them. For some reason, no one in the press has called him on his underground activities, but if it matters, I’ll find out why. Either he’s paying a lot of people off, or he’s got some good enforcers on his side.”
“Or he’s making use of magic,” Nick suggested. “He doesn’t have any inborn magic of his own that I know of, but I’ve never met him in person, so I can’t say for sure. There are certainly devices in the world that could cast a sufficiently threatening nimbus around him and his activities that would prevent anyone from exploring too deeply. Or it could be something as simple as a forgetfulness charm. Though that would only work if he was rigorous in confining his unsavory pleasures to one location.”
“Is that possible?” Cyn asked, looking at Raphael, not Nick, which pissed him off. He was the magic expert in the room. He’d been born with his power and had been practicing magic for millennia, while the damn vampire had just woken up one night with a taste for blood.
“I generally avoid sorcerers,” Raphael told Cyn, his arm on the back of the couch behind her, his fingers tangling idly in her dark hair.
Yeah, yeah, I get it. She belongs to you, Nick thought to himself.
But Raphael was still talking. “I’ve heard tale of such devices created ages ago when magic was said to have been free in the universe for anyone with the skill to harness it. No longer, however.” He shifted his gaze to Nick, giving him a malevolent stare.
Compelled Page 8
