Page 24 of Love Bites (Timber Creek #2)

CHAPTER 24

MAX

Tension thrummed in the air as shadows swirled around us, blocking the alleyway from views of any passersby.

I had one hand coiled around Rhain’s neck, my magic bound tight around us, and kept an eye out for Summer beside me. She blinked rapidly, likely trying to clear the effects of my blood from her senses, but for now all I needed was for her to stay back.

“Why are you following us?” I asked, trying to figure out why his name sounded familiar. He said it with such easy confidence, like I should recognize his name, if not his face. Not for the first time, I was frustrated by how much my father kept me in the dark over vampire affairs and the key players.

Rhain’s green eyes slid to Summer and he shot her a wink. I growled and slammed him back against the wall again, hard , eliciting a low chuckle out of him. Who the fuck cared if he was someone important? She was my wife, and he would not be winking at her.

“Don’t look at her. Look at me. And start fucking talking.”

Rhain raised his hands in surrender and grinned. He didn’t seem bothered in the least about the threat I posed.

“Don’t worry, mate. You two have marked each other in ways that cannot be denied — I know she’s yours. As for who I am” — he waggled his fingers, drawing my attention to a ring on his index finger — “do you not know what this is?”

I looked down at his hand, recognizing the gold band and the scrolling text along the side, a symbol of vampiric power and status. His had a large emerald, whereas Grigor’s was a sapphire. “You’re a duke. That excuses nothing.”

“The Scottish duke,” Rhain corrected.

“Max.” Summer laid a hand on my shoulder. “I don’t think he’s a threat.”

Rhain’s cocky smile faded, and I could have kissed Summer for the underhanded diss she’d just laid out. “I could be a threat.”

I clenched my jaw, ignoring him and looked over my shoulder at Summer. “Never underestimate a vampire. It’s all an act, just what he wants you to think.”

She raised her brows, a silent comment that I wasn’t much different, then waved her hand towards Rhain in a silent request to let him go.

I gave Rhain another glare before dropping my hand from around his neck, though I kept the shadows binding him.

He cleared his throat and rolled his head, stretching his neck. “Much better. If we’re done with the violence for the evening, we can move on to the conniving.”

Summer crossed her arms over her chest, stepping up so she pressed lightly into my side. A silent show of solidarity from a wolf, and one I found myself surprised to relish. “Conniving?”

“Conspiring. Scheming. Colluding.”

I scowled. “I don’t think her issue was with the definition.”

“Right, apologies.” Rhain chuckled, then his expression took on a sharp edge. “Haven’t you heard? We’re planning a coup. The Conclave’s days are numbered, and it’s time for you to tag in, sonny boy.”

A pulse seemed to vibrate through the sultry Parisian air with his words, dots on an invisible map forming I struggled to connect with the little information I had on vampires and their politics.

In a low voice, I asked, “Who’s we?”

Rhain smirked, like he knew he’d hooked us. “Want to come see? I’ll answer all your little questions and then some.”

“You’ll answer my questions, now, or we go back to the strangling.”

Rhain rolled his eyes before glancing at Summer. “He always like this?”

I fought the skitter of electricity over my skin that itched for an outlet, and Summer pursed her lips. “He has one mode: intense. It’s probably better you just explain yourself.”

Rhain brushed a hand over his jaw, glancing at the entrance to the alleyway before letting out a deep sigh. “My den is part of Project Oleander, a secret coalition that is working with your father to overthrow the Conclave. I made contact with Malachi a few weeks ago, scheduling a meeting for last week here in Paris. He didn’t show up and I haven’t been able to reach him. After our first contact, he laid out very specific protocols if such a thing were to happen, which at the time I thought were outrageous. Yet here I am, following that protocol to bring you in. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d much rather discuss this over a pint, wouldn’t you?”

I kept a neutral expression, but my shoulders tensed even further at Rhain’s declaration.

Project Oleander.

I hadn’t heard that name in a hundred years, and a flood of memories resurfaced from my youth. My father had never been one to sit on the floor and play with me, but I’d never hurt for his attention either. He set up elaborate schemes and riddles, coded in different languages I’d have to learn to solve them. I learned to read maps, find clues, follow leads, track predators, and use both my shadows and lightning powers to my advantage, all preparing me for a life at his side.

Oleander had always been the ultimate game: a game of life or death. It had always required me to use everything I’d learned, and lives were at stake if I failed. At the time, I’d thought it was all pretend, a chance to let a child be a superhero like we all wanted. But now the memories were different, the lives I’d saved more realistic. Tangible. Like maybe it hadn’t been a game at all.

Even if it seemed far-fetched for my father to be working with a vampire coup, Oleander couldn’t be a coincidence. This had to be what Malachi had meant when he said he had reason to believe not all vampires supported the Conclave.

Why couldn’t he have just told me about this?

The riddles and games had been fun as a child, but I was sick of it now. Like everything in my life, he kept me close but in the dark just enough to make me feel adrift, expecting me to figure it out as I went. But now, so far removed from the days when his games had made me feel wanted and special, I felt used. Felt groomed to be the tool he needed. Felt lost, with no sense of my identity outside of the weapon he’d formed me into.

I shoved the familiar ache away, down in the depths of the well of emotions I kept locked up tight.

“When was the last time you heard from him?” I asked, an inkling of worry sinking in, thinking over all my own unanswered calls and texts from Malachi lately. Not answering me was rare, but it wasn’t the first time. Not answering business associates, and ones leading a potential coup at that? Unheard of.

“It’s been two weeks now.”

Fuck.

Summer moved to step forward, but I shifted my weight, blocking her. Until we knew more, I was staying between the two of them. She was my wife, mine to protect — I would not let Rhain grab her and vanish both of them away in the blink of an eye, destination untraceable.

“What do you mean, working with Malachi?” Summer asked. “Is the Council involved in this coup? Does West know about this? If he does, he hasn’t mentioned it.”

Rhain tilted his head back in a pout, whining, “Still, with the alleyway questions?”

“You were watching the apartment.” My eyes narrowed as things clicked into place, the puzzle pieces forming in my head just like they always did. “That’s how you knew we were here, and have been following us?”

“Technically, it wasn’t me watching the apartment, but yes, it was being watched.”

“By whom, then?”

“étienne Dubois — well, one of his people.”

At our lack of reaction, Rhain scoffed. “Do you know anything about the European vampires? You’re in his territory. He’s the duke of the Paris den. Luckily for you, étienne isn’t too fond of the Conclave, so he hasn’t reported Dante’s arrival as unannounced. Best introduce yourself quickly and pay your respects before he changes his mind.”

Rhain raised his eyebrows pointedly, and it didn’t escape my notice that he referred to me by my other identity. Somehow, Rhain knew who I was, but my secret was still intact with the rest of the vampires here.

“And Dubois is one of the other dukes involved in this coup?”

“Yes,” Rhain breathed in exasperation. “Dubois, me, and others, who happen to be meeting tonight to discuss said coup, which is why I decided to bring you in. Came to get you myself, mind. Not just anyone gets a duke for an escort.” He winked at Summer again, and my hands curled into fists.

“Why should I trust you? That you’re not just leading us into a trap to kill us?”

“Other than, I could have killed you without you ever sensing me?” Rhain snorted. “Fine. Malachi said if this situation ever arose, to remind you blood is thicker than water.”

I started, trying to mask my surprise.

“Il sangue non e acqua , my boy ,” I’d heard my father say a thousand times when I was a child. I could practically feel his fingers running through my dark hair, calming me when I would get frustrated with my shadow powers, or my mother’s absence. “ Blood is thicker than water. You are my son, and that’s what matters. ”

Between Oleander and now this, I couldn’t deny my father’s involvement. There was no reason for Rhain to use that exact phrase.

Rhain must have noticed the tension leaving me, because he nodded decisively.

“Now, about that pint.”

Twenty minutes later, we’d crossed the Seine and were in a much nicer area farther from the city center, and entered another bar.

This one was less college vibe, more upscale; every man in an expensive, tailored suit and every woman in a silky dress. By contrast, all three of us were woefully underdressed, even Rhain, who’d known he was coming here.

Rhain attempted to put a hand on Summer’s shoulder, and I swatted him away. He smirked but leaned in anyway. “Personally, I find Dubois’ taste a little stuffy. Someday you should come see my pub near Edinburgh.” His eyes glittered with amusement. “We’ll have a great time.”

I shot him a glare he received with a grin, then strode through the dining room like he owned the place. He shot a salute to the bartender, who nodded back, and moved to a private room in the back. I stuck to Summer like glue, my hand on her lower back, not willing to part from her for a second until we knew what we were walking into, regardless of the meager trust Rhain might have earned.

Summer slipped off my jacket now we were inside, handing it back to me. I couldn’t help but stare at her shadowmark, larger than earlier today. Vine tendrils snaked further across and down her back, flowers and stars sprouting outward from where it had begun at her shoulder blade. It covered at least a quarter of her back now, and the sight filled me with dread and fierce possessiveness in equal measure.

“Allaway, what took you so long?” a French-accented voice called.

Rhain spread his arms wide. “A little disagreement, but we’re sorted now.”

A man in a sharp navy suit stood, grasping Rhain’s hand and clapping him on the back. An inch or two shorter than Rhain, who was nearly my height, he had the slightly tan Mediterranean complexion many French did, making Rhain look positively pale. His posture was relaxed, his eyes sharp and calculating in the predatory way typical of vampires, but it was his calm confidence that betrayed his true strength. A self-assurance we weren’t a threat to him, whoever we were, that said he was not a vampire to cross.

“This is them?” the man, presumably étienne Dubois, asked as Rhain moved aside, leaving room for us to step forward.

“ Oui .” Rhain gestured to us. “Dante, and his wife, Summer Larkin.”

Summer’s back stiffened under my hand, and I couldn’t resist pulling her closer to me. If they’d been following us since we arrived here, no doubt they’d done their homework to find out who we were, but hearing it put so blatantly clearly startled her.

“étienne Dubois.” He held out a hand, and I shook it. “Pleasure to meet you at last, Dante. Et demoiselle, enchanté.” He pulled Summer in before she had a second to react, air-kissing her cheeks.

“Oh,” Summer gasped, then chuckled, rolling with the custom easily, though my chest warmed as she leaned back into me when they finished. “Nice to meet you, too.”

étienne clapped his hands together. “ Alors, we have much to discuss. Please, have a seat, et Vincent! ” He called over to the bartender, already making his way over with a tray of drinks. “ Ah, oui , okay, have a drink, have a seat. Ah! These are some of the others in my den —” He waved around at the other vampires here with us, rapid-fire introducing them, but it was a blur of French names.

Summer and I found seats and accepted glasses of wine from the bartender. When everyone had a drink, étienne raised his own glass.

“ Vive la révolution, non?” His eyes twinkled with humor, but the others joined him, raising their glasses too then clinking with their neighbors before drinking. “What tradition we have in this city.”

Long live the revolution, indeed.