Chapter Nineteen
MARIUS
The pilot’s voice came over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seat belts for landing.”
The flight attendant came through the cabin of the private jet, checking that we’d complied. Bene flashed a grin and motioned proudly to his groin — er, lap.
The flight attendant winked at him, and I rolled my eyes.
What? Bene protested, throwing the words into my mind. She’s gorgeous — and single.
I shrugged. Would she look as good without the makeup? With her hair a mess? With her brow sweaty and a hammer in her hand?
My eyes slid to Mina in the seat across and ahead of mine.
Wow. Someone has it bad, Bene teased.
Great fucking timing, Roux grumbled.
He was right. Getting involved with Mina on the eve of a major assignment was a terrible idea. But it wasn’t an idea. It was instinct. Maybe even destiny.
Unfortunately, we’d also been loud enough to alert the rest of the guys to what was going on. Even if that hadn’t been the case, the scent of sex would have been impossible to miss, no matter how hard I’d scrubbed Mina in the shower afterward.
My dragon grinned at the memory of how afterward turned into the run-up to yet another round of ravenously hungry sex.
I shifted in my seat, getting hard just thinking about it.
I like thinking about it, my dragon protested.
So did I. I replayed it again and again. The sight of Mina’s bare body… Of her lips moving in incoherent syllables… Of her sleepy, satisfied smile when we’d lain together afterward. Maybe best of all, the bone-deep peace I felt just from holding her.
I thought she had better taste, Henrik grumbled, then chuckled to himself. Although I’m sure her taste is exquisite in another way.
Try, and I’ll kill you, I growled.
Children, children, Bene chided. Behave. And remember, the only way our sorry asses will get anywhere is teamwork.
Teamwork. With a fucking vampire. In whose world was that a good idea?
Gordon’s, my dragon snarled.
A sentiment I snatched back when Mina frowned and looked around. Ever since we’d slept together, I had the sneaking suspicion she could read my mind — if not specific thoughts, then at least the general drift.
Which meant I had to be careful with my thoughts. My emotions. My impossible fantasies.
I can’t believe you slept with her, Roux grumbled for the hundredth time.
I can’t believe he got her before I did, Bene said in his usual carefree way. But, hey. Bonus points for moving fast.
I growled out loud. Sleeping with Mina wasn’t about scoring. It was about…about…
The L-word snuck into my mind, but I shoved it away.
I wasn’t the one who had the bright idea of bringing her along on this mission, I growled at Bene.
I wasn’t the one who okayed it, Bene deflected.
You’re right. I was, Roux barked. Because she’s our best shot at getting in unnoticed. But only if Romeo here doesn’t fuck things up. He shot me a dark look.
I’m as invested in this as you, I reminded him.
Maybe too invested, Roux grumbled.
Well, all he has to do is keep his hands off her for the next forty-eight hours, Henrik observed snidely. And keep his mind on the job.
I grimaced, knowing full well I could do one but not both. I had kept my hands off Mina since our tryst — but that took all my focus and willpower. So, keeping my mind on work…tricky.
Maybe we ought to give them a couple of hours together, Bene suggested. You know, let them get it out of their systems.
Great idea! my dragon cheered, totally on board with that plan.
I was too, except it was doomed to fail. I would never get Mina out of my system. I didn’t want to.
I had to, though, and I knew it. She probably knew it too. But we would face that after this mission.
Mina gazed out her window at the bright lights of Palma de Mallorca. My side of the plane showed moonlight rippling over a dark sea. Which better reflected the future? Were there any truths to be found down there at all?
The pilot lined up with the runway, and my eyes picked out a red wind sock.
Wind from the nose and slightly to port, I noted unconsciously.
The tail of the jet wobbled slightly to the right before the pilot corrected and bumped down into a landing.
Bene looked at me, and I shrugged. “Seven out of ten.”
Mina looked over, confused. Then her eyes went wide, as if to say, Oh, right. You can fly too.
My chest puffed out a little. Damn right, I could. No jet fuel needed either.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Palma de Mallorca, where local time is 10:35 p.m. Please remain seated until we have reached our final position,” the captain announced.
Minutes later, we stood and filed out. Mina ran her hand over her leather seat and glanced around the cabin before following Roux outside.
First time in a private jet, I figured. Not mine, but the luxury was rare enough.
A limo awaited us on the tarmac, where stewards were already loading our gear into the trunk.
Bene grinned. “Gotta hand it to the boss. He works in style.”
Mina stiffened, because that boss was her godfather. A true Godfather-style figure, too, though she’d only just discovered that. Or was she still holding out hope that it was one big misunderstanding?
I wouldn’t hold my breath.
The night air was cool, but still several degrees warmer than in Burgundy, and thick with Mediterranean scents, along with the cries of sea gulls.
All those sights, smells, and sounds hit me, so fresh and invigorating after the dull air of the jet. Then the limo doors shut, reminding me we were prisoners in Gordon’s gilded cage.
“First time in Mallorca?” Bene asked Mina, who sat pensively, taking in every streetlamp, every stone building.
She nodded, craning her head to catch a glimpse of the floodlit cathedral. “You?”
“Nah. Been here lots of times.”
To the party mile, probably — a world away from the hilly interior the limo headed for.
Soon, the long vehicle was straining around the tight turns of a mountain road.
Startled drivers in the oncoming lane stared through the windshields of their tiny, two-door Opel Corsas or Seat Ibizas, the vehicles of choice on this island outpost of Spain.
“Note to self,” Bene quipped to Roux. “The limo is great, but we’ll need a couple of Land Rovers for tomorrow.”
Roux nodded wearily. “They’re already on the list.”
Bene chuckled. “I love jobs with big budgets.”
I made a face. What was to love?
Mina’s scent swirled around me. Her face reflected in the window, so melancholy and anxious that I ached to reach out and stroke her cheek.
Nearly an hour later, the limo swung off the main road, crawled over a mile of gravel, then bumped down a cobblestone driveway.
The moment the driver stopped, I leaped out and sucked in a lungful of fresh air.
“Home sweet home,” Bene murmured, stretching his arms high.
If Roux hadn’t nudged him along, he would probably have folded over into one of those butt-up, head-down poses cats and yoga practitioners loved.
A distinguished older guy met us at the arched entrance. “Buenos noches.”
“Bienvenidos a Finca ses Roques.” His wife — or so I assumed — motioned us into the courtyard of the complex.
“Buenos noches,” Bene echoed, leading the way.
“Wow. Nice,” Mina murmured, taking in the exposed stone walls and ancient beams of the complex.
Once upon a time, the place had been a farm.
Now, like so many other fincas on the island, it had been converted into a luxury getaway.
Where goats had once milled around, blue lights illuminated a pool.
Glass covered an entire wall of what had been a barn.
Leather furniture lined the brightly lit room inside, and a steel stairway led to what were probably sumptuous suites.
I spotted at least five smaller outbuildings, one of which served as a luxury kitchen.
The chef had left out finger food and drinks, and we dug in. The caretakers pointed out the basics, then retired to their private quarters at the far end of the property. Mina watched them go, and I couldn’t help probing for her thoughts.
Despondent thoughts, I discovered, as she looked around the spectacular but soulless place.
Her mouth bent into a frown, and I guessed at the questions pooling in her mind.
Did the old couple descend from those who had once scraped out a living on this farm?
Had they had any say in how the place had been transformed, or was that all in the hands of a faceless corporation?
Her mood seemed overly sentimental until I thought of big, sprawling Chateau Nocturne. Was Mina’s property doomed to a similar fate, or would she find a way to maintain it in a way that honored the spirit of the place?
A balcony door on the upper story of the barn opened, jolting us out of our thoughts.
“Oh! You’re here!” a woman called, beside herself in excitement.
Henrik barely waved, but she squeaked and rushed downstairs.
“Ah, the lovely Delphine.” Bene grinned as a woman burst out of the door and ran toward Henrik in a sea of billowing red silk.
“Henrik!” The faux redhead threw herself into a huge, openmouthed kiss.
Mina’s eyebrows jumped up.
Roux grimaced with an expression that asked what kind of woman would prostitute herself to a vampire.
Easy. A woman without better options. Was that so hard to understand?
Maybe for a guy like Roux.
Fucking snob, my dragon grumbled.
If anyone was predestined to be a snob, it would be Mina, who’d inherited an entire fucking chateau. But she mustered a genuine smile and looked at Delphine with zero judgment in her eyes.
“Delphine, meet Mina. Mina, meet Delphine,” Bene said, as if Delphine had eyes for anyone but Henrik.
“Nice to meet you,” Mina murmured, looking at the happy couple, then at the ground.
So, whew. Not a snob.
My dragon huffed. Snobs don’t plaster their own walls or retile their bathrooms. I knew, because I’d seen her do both.