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Dominique leaned his forehead against the door in silent capitulation. “Merde.” Had she always been this bossy? And why was being a blood-drinker—the Lord of Night, no less—no defense against her power over him?

Because she was his mother, of course. He cursed again and returned to his suite.

Garrett whistled softly when Dominique entered. “That’s a new look for you.”

Jackson looked at him in open-mouthed astonishment. The illusion of a vigorous mortal male he had spun for his mother was still in effect. He didn’t dispel it, but he ordered them to dispel themselves—or tried to.

“What do you mean, we’re not doing anything tonight?” Jackson asked.

“You two get caught up on your rest. I will search for Isao later on my own.”

Cassidy looked at him with a small, knowing smile. “We’re going out to dinner, aren’t we.”

“We are,” he said darkly.

“I thought as much.” She smoothed her blouse, the front of her skirt, brushed back a stray hair. Ready to go.

“Dinner?” Jackson wondered.

“You two. Out,” Dominique snapped, and vanished into the bedroom to make himself presentable as ordered.

He heard his mother’s voice again the moment the door opened to let out the hunters. “Oh, and who are you?”

They introduced themselves.

“No, no, no,” Dominique chanted under his breath as he brushed his hair into submission.

“You are the same Jackson who is brother to Samantha? She is such a lovely young woman.”

“That’s me, yes.”

“They were just leaving,Maman,” he said, emerging from the bedroom.

Garrett’s face lit up. “This beautiful lady is yourmother?” Before Dominique could say anything, Garrett lifted her fingers to his lips. “It is such an honor to meet you,madame.”

“Oh.” Francesca looked surprised, but not displeased. “Enchanté.”

“My nephew and I work closely with your son and have for many years.”

“In that case, you must join us for dinner. I want to hear all about your work.”

Dominique shook his head. “Non.”

“It would be our pleasure. Wouldn’t it, Jack?”

“What? Oh. Yes, of course.”

Cassidy turned away to smother a grin. “Checkmate, my love,” she said under her breath.

And so it was. Francesca ruled the evening. Or at least she did after he won his one and only argument with her, that being the question of where they would eat. He drew a firm line at parading his entire human entourage across a city where a hostile blood-drinker was looking for him.

Instead of ride-sharing it to Bishop’s, they walked into Five Sails, one of the hotel’s on-site restaurants. He allowed himself a moment’s compulsion to get them seated right away despite having no reservations. As they were led to a table with a spectacular view of the night-black bay surrounded by a shimmering necklace of light, he scanned the area. He saw no blood-drinkers, nor humans who appeared to recognize him. Still, he kept his senses keyed for any signs of supernatural danger.

It was a human irritant, however, that continued to scratch at his nerves. Together with Cassidy and Jackson, he watched Garrett morph into an unlikely Prince Charming as he offered Francesca his arm, regaled her with compliments, and practiced his limited French on her.

“It is so refreshing to meet a true gentleman outside of France,” Francesca told him.

“We’re not complete heathens in the colonies,” Garrett assured and took the seat beside her. “Especially not around a woman as stunning as yourself.”