Chapter Five
MINA
“So, uh…breakfast?” Bene waved at the empty sideboard in the dining room.
Madame Picard had set out plates and silverware the previous evening, but it was my job to set out breakfast. At least, it was until my sister and cousin arrived or until I found someone from the village to take over the task. For now, I was juggling a dozen daily tasks on my own.
And boy, did I feel alone as the men filed into the dining room one by one. I patted the garlic cloves I’d stuffed in my pockets and took a deep breath.
“Good morning,” Roux said, entering the room shortly after Bene.
I crossed my arms and glared. Sometime in the early hours of morning, I’d decided my best tactic was to go on the war path and attack my vampire problem head on.
“Maybe not such a good morning,” Bene mumbled.
Roux stopped in his tracks, frowning at the empty platters on the sideboard.
“Um…” he started.
“No breakfast. I think she’s mad,” Bene stage-whispered to Roux.
Oh, he had that right.
Roux eyed me, then leaned toward Bene. “Mad at what?”
He shrugged. “No idea.”
Roux raised an eyebrow at me. “Did we do something wrong?”
I kept my lips sealed and my glare at DEFCON 1.
“I told you we shouldn’t have moved in to those extra rooms,” Bene murmured.
I stared. They’d what?
“Just a few,” Bene hastened to add, catching my expression.
I closed my eyes, telling myself, one thing at a time.
I did snatch my favorite mug out of his hands, though — the chipped one with a picture of Franz Marc’s Blue Horses.
“Hey!” he protested. “Are mugs off-limits now too?”
“Just that one,” I muttered.
A scuffing sound heralded the arrival of my next hungry guest, and I didn’t have to open my eyes to recognize Marius. His thundercloud presence made the air pressure in the room drop abruptly, the way it did before the heavens opened in a deluge.
Yeesh. What was his problem? And how the hell did he manage to intimidate and arouse me at the same time? Just being around him made my nipples go hard.
A second later, a wave of ice-cold air heralded the arrival of Henrik. I socked him with my bitchiest glare.
His smug look evaporated, and he took a step back.
You could cut the tension in the room with a knife — or better yet, a garlic-smeared ax.
Everyone stared at Henrik, and Bene murmured, “Uh-oh.”
Uh-oh was right. But silence was my best weapon, and I wielded it like a sword.
“What did he do?” Roux asked me.
I ignored him the way he’d ignored me when we’d first met.
“What did you do?” he tried Henrik next.
The vampire stuck his hands up. “Nothing.”
Marius snorted.
For an instant, my eyes flicked to him, surprised to find him halfway engaged in a conversation. Then I flicked my gaze — er, glare — back to Henrik.
“I said, what did you do?” Roux’s voice dropped to a snarl.
Henrik moved his icy gaze to Roux, and I couldn’t help wondering who would come out on top in a fight between a vampire and a tiger shifter.
I would be cheering for the tiger, that was for sure.
“Let me guess,” Bene cut in. “Someone went exploring last night. Somewhere off-limits.”
Twin pricks of red shone in Henrik’s eyes. “And you didn’t?”
Bene put a hand on his heart. “Absolutely not.” His offended tone suggested he would never, ever consider such a thing.
I doubted that, but Bene wasn’t my problem right now.
Henrik pinned me with a glare, like I’d been the one disturbing his sleep last night.
Asshole, I let my eyes say.
“To solve this issue, it would help to know what happened,” Roux said rather reasonably.
But I doubted vampires reasoned, so I refused to respond.
“We have to play fucking charades now?” Marius grumbled.
I turned my glare to him — and nearly wobbled backward when his glowing eyes met mine. Clearly, his dragon side was worked up about something. But what? I doubted rules violations offended him. Maybe a violation of an honor code? Even bad-boy dragon shifters had to have those.
The longer I gazed into those midnight eyes, the more I settled on violation of an honor code. And if that was true, well… Huh. Whose honor was at stake here?
Then it hit me, and my knees wobbled. Mine?
Finally, I yanked my gaze away. If I didn’t, it would stay with him all day. The man was like lava spurting from a volcano — dangerous but so mesmerizing, you forgot to drag yourself to safety.
Henrik. Focus on Henrik, I reminded myself.
I had him on the back foot, so it was time to show my hand.
“If you want to stay here — all of you — you have to play by the rules,” I barked.
“Who says I want to stay here?” Henrik grumbled.
Exactly what I’d spent the morning mulling over. Vampires only answered to one boss — themselves. And most vampires lived comfortably from assets amassed over centuries-long life-spans. So why would one stoop so low as to work for Gordon?
Because he has to, I’d realized in the wee hours of the morning. Whether his motive was financial, a favor owed, or some other reason was a moot point. Henrik had had no choice in taking this job. Therefore, he couldn’t afford to lose it.
I put all my eggs in one basket and hurled it at Henrik.
“What you want isn’t the point, is it?” I said. “You’re here because you have to be here, correct?”
Henrik glared.
Definitely a Yes.
“You cannot afford to fail, because you know there will be consequences,” I powered on.
All four men stared at their feet. So, ha. I was right. Pretty dire consequences, I figured, because none of them was the type to shy away from breaking the rules.
“Yes, I need Gordon’s business,” I admitted. “But I am prepared to call off this deal if you don’t respect my rules. And not just you.” I pointed at Henrik. “All of you will be out of here…”
Bene’s throat bobbed in a heavy gulp.
“…and it will be up to you, Henrik, to explain to Gordon why,” I finished.
As a teacher, I’d rarely called on the principal to assist with discipline because that undermined my own credibility. But Henrik was a vampire, not a fifth grader. Whatever power I could hold over his head, I sure as hell would.
It seemed to work too, because Roux, Bene, and Marius all glared at Henrik. Especially Marius, I noticed. Interesting. What did a man like him have to lose?
A low, menacing growl built in Roux’s throat — aimed at Henrik, not me, thank goodness.
“Now, I suggest you four head outside and hold a little powwow,” I said. “That way, you can consider your priorities and decide on the course of action you’d like to take.”
That would also keep my grandmother’s china safe if a fight broke out — and keep the Persian carpet clean if blood happened to be spilled.
God, I should have known Gordon’s deal was too good to be true.
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” Roux rumbled in his best commander’s voice.
But a commander needed followers, and the other three were not the following type.
“Will it?” he barked at Henrik.
Henrik socked me with a nasty, red-eyed glare — until a deep snarl made him blink.
Me too, because that was Marius, not Roux, warning him. Clearly, the dragon shifter was just as desperate to keep this job as the other three.
“I said, I’m sure a meeting is not necessary. Is it, Henrik?” Roux demanded.
When the vampire shifted his gaze to the tiger, a weight dropped from my shoulders. Whew.
“No, it won’t,” Henrik finally muttered.
I exhaled very, very slowly. For a long, awkward minute, silence reigned. Then Bene spoke up.
“So, about breakfast…”
I regretted ever letting Henrik in, but thank goodness for Bene — the sole ray of sunshine in this otherwise surly gang.
“Fifteen minutes,” I muttered, walking to the kitchen. On the way, I called over my shoulder to Bene, “Ten if I get a little help.”
The lion shifter flashed a sunny smile and fell into step beside me. “Always happy to assist, ma’am.”
I strode away, as regal and unperturbed as a queen. But the moment I reached the kitchen, I slumped, bracing myself on the counter with both hands.
“You okay?” Bene whispered.
I mustered a weak smile. Who knew a lion could be so sweet?
“Just wondering if I took things too far.”
“Just about right, I’d say.” He patted me on the back, then moved to the pantry. “Now, about breakfast. May I suggest you leave the coffee to me?”
I laughed out loud. Maybe I would live to see the end of this day. Maybe I could keep this desperately needed contract from falling apart. Maybe calling on my bitchy side hadn’t been a mistake.
And maybe, just maybe, I could accept a little help from time to time.
“It’s all yours.” I grinned, waving Bene to the moka pot. “It’s all yours.”