Chapter 21 #2
It was all he could do to not snort at that. Try your concoction. His brothers were still hounding him for the name of the distillery because the whisky was so delicious, but he refused to tell them. Nolan was lucky Rafe was playing nice and sharing with him.
But Rafe said nothing as he poured them both a glass of the whisky blend and settled back in the booth again. He took a drink from his glass and closed his eyes against the wonderful burn across his chest and the dance of flavors across his tongue. This was what heaven tasted like.
When he opened his eyes, Nolan was sipping carefully from his own glass. Was he hesitant because he didn’t care for whisky, or was he still afraid Rafe was poisoning him? His eyes widened and he stared at the glass for a second before taking a bigger drink.
“I stand corrected,” Nolan announced, seeming almost reluctant to return his glass to the table. “This may be the only way to drink O negative from now on.”
Rafe smiled and turned his gaze to the guests of his club.
The music was loud, and the lights flashed around them, but smiles were on nearly every face he saw.
For this small window into their lives, they were happy and oblivious to the monster that was seated beside Rafe.
Something about him, more than just the hard press of his powers, left Rafe’s skin crawling.
When it came to hunting, Rafe suspected Nolan preferred to kill rather than the more compassionate catch and release he and his brothers performed.
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. The Variks have always had a taste for the finer things in life.”
There was no missing the underlying censure in Nolan’s voice, but Rafe held his smile and chuckled.
“Why settle for mediocre when you don’t have to?
” Rafe turned his gaze to Nolan. “Even if we are at the top of the food chain, you never know which sip may be your last. You should always enjoy things when you can.” He lifted his glass to his lips and downed the rest of his drink.
“But the Variks hunger for more than the finer things.”
“What else is there?”
Nolan leaned closer to Rafe and it was a struggle to not pull back. Rafe held perfectly still, muscles twitching here and there in rebellion. Nolan whispered directly in his ear, sending a hot gust of breath along his jaw with a single word. “Power.”
The laugh came out strangled and Rafe cut it off quickly. “Power? The Variks? No, that’s never been our cup of tea. Or even our brand of whisky. Why would you believe that?”
Nolan straightened, putting a more comfortable spacing between them. “The Black Wolf clan.”
Rafe loudly sighed, reaching for the decanter again.
He splashed more whisky into Nolan’s glass before refilling his own.
“The Black Wolf clan and their fucking insane clan leader, Minerva, started that fight. Not us. We had no grievance with them until they killed Julianna and attempted to kill other members of our family. We defended ourselves.”
“Quite effectively too.”
Rafe said nothing as he sipped his whisky and tried to force the rage bubbling in his veins away.
He was sick of hearing about the Black Wolf clan, sick of being reminded that he’d been captured.
Too many things could have gone wrong that night, resulting in the death of one or more of his brothers.
The Variks hadn’t been staging some fucking coup. They were simply trying to survive.
“You’ve also been meeting with Philippe Arsenault.”
The blood in Rafe’s veins froze in an instant, the chill cutting straight to the marrow of his bones.
Caution held his tongue still in his mouth.
He would say nothing to harm his family or the Arsenault clan, but he had to say something.
Nolan’s pale-blue eyes were a weight on him, keeping him pinned to the back of the booth.
“The Arsenault clan leader has asked the Variks for a little advice on a private matter. That’s all,” Rafe replied with a shrug.
He tried to make it all sound unimportant and casual, but he couldn’t take his eyes off his drink.
He didn’t trust what Nolan might read in his eyes.
This vampire couldn’t know what Philippe meant to him.
Nolan laughed and picked up his glass. The leather creaked softly as he shifted in his seat, but from the corner of Rafe’s eye, he could see that Nolan moved no closer. “I had no idea the Variks were so helpful.”
“We tend to keep to ourselves, but we’re not recluses.” Rafe snorted and waved at the crowd, much like Nolan had mere minutes ago. “As you can see, I don’t mind helping out my fellow man or vampire.”
“I noticed,” Nolan murmured. The two words were casual, but his easygoing smile was gone.
“This evening, I also noticed Marcus officially filed paperwork with the Ministry announcing the Variks are a clan now. It didn’t list names, but it reports there are now nine of you when I thought there were only four. ”
Okay, so Rafe might have been a little proud of the fact that he could both clench his teeth and smile at the same time. There were a lot of things he was dying to say, but ninety percent of them would have coaxed Nolan into ripping his throat out.
“Things change,” Rafe murmured. “I’m sure the only name anyone is interested in is Aiden.”
“Yes,” Nolan said with a little hiss.
The music seemed to fill in the dead air between them for more than a minute, and Rafe released a silent sigh.
Relying on others to fight his fights for him would never be his thing, but he wouldn’t deny that some of the tension squeezing on his chest eased to remember that Aiden was in town, Aiden had his back.
“Naturally, I have no problems with the Variks finally claiming a little power for themselves,” Nolan started again.
His tone was light and breezy, as if he were discussing summer vacation spots.
“Before the Variks moved to Hartford, your brother and I had several lengthy discussions. Most before the Black Wolf fiasco, of course.” He tossed that last bit out with a wave of his hand as if it hadn’t been a monstrous disaster that nearly cost the Varik brothers their lives.
Rafe stopped himself from rolling his eyes only by picking up his drink. If he took a drink every time Nolan uttered something insulting, Rafe was going to drain the entire bottle on the table.
“The point is,” Nolan pressed on, seeming to warm up to his topic, “my conversations with Marcus have made it clear that the Variks and the MacPhersons have very similar goals and ideals about the duties and responsibilities of what it means to be a vampire. The Variks and MacPhersons aren’t adversaries and will hopefully never be.
It would be terrible to see your venerable names wiped away and forgotten. ”
Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh.
Rafe’s eyes locked on Nolan for a second, reading his face and body language.
The creature beside him truly hadn’t meant those words as a threat.
He believed with all his being that if the Variks and MacPhersons fought, the Variks would be annihilated.
Not that Rafe necessarily argued with that assessment, though he was suddenly wishing Bel hadn’t destroyed all of his special poison.
It was time to try a new angle.
Gulping the last of his drink, Rafe sat up and poured another round of whisky into both glasses, though Nolan’s was still half-full.
This wasn’t about trying to get the vampire drunk.
That took way too much alcohol and didn’t last nearly as long to ever be useful.
No, this was about being friendly. Neighborly.
With his glass full, Rafe lounged in the booth, leaning in toward Nolan rather than away as he had been. His voice dipped. He was still loud enough to be easily heard, but low enough for his words to feel confidential.
“I think I’ve completely misunderstood your reasons for being here. You’ve got something helpful to say.”
Nolan’s eyebrows snapped together over his nose and he frowned down at Rafe. “Why did you think I was here?”
Rafe waved around the hand holding the glass, careful to not spill a drop. “No fucking clue. Figured you were here to rip my head off. Or maybe to tell me to turn the music down. Get off your lawn or something.”
Nolan continued to stare at him, and Rafe studiously ignored his rapidly beating heart as he took a sip of his drink. A second ticked by and then another before deep laughter rumbled up Nolan’s chest. Picking up his drink, he settled in the booth, his shoulder bumping Rafe’s.
“I like you. I’ll admit I was sure I’d hate everything about you, but I can’t. You’ve created a fantastic club where our kind can seek entertainment and a bite from a colorful buffet. You have excellent taste in alcohol. And you speak your mind.”
“Marcus would argue that the world could do without the last one,” Rafe muttered.
“Maybe so, but for now, it’s amusing.”
Oh, there was a hint of a warning in that remark. No missing that. The ice wasn’t thin, but it could be very quickly.
“So, what interesting thing have you come to tell me?”
Nolan lifted up just a little bit to look directly into Rafe’s eyes. Rafe held up his free hand and the one holding the drink. “I’m being as serious as I’ve ever been,” he said in an even voice, and it was the truth. He wanted to know the intentions of the MacPherson clan if at all possible.
With a small nod, Nolan settled back against the booth. “A war is coming.”
“The Ministry?”
“That’s part of it. There’s been a rumbling among some of the larger clans both in America and Europe. Change is needed, and the current Ministry is determined to stop it at all costs.”
“And do you know the major players nudging this change along?”
Nolan grunted. “A few.”
Rafe’s smile turned a little sly. “Would the MacPherson clan be among those nudgers?”
“No.” Nolan said nothing else for a few seconds as if letting the weight of that single word press down on Rafe’s brain. “We’re merely watching for now.”
“Watching for how the pieces land on the Go board.”
Nolan shifted like he was trying to see Rafe’s face. “Go board?”
Rafe inwardly winced. “Sorry. Old Chinese game. I forget that it’s not as popular as the US chess board,” he amended.
“Ahh…yes. Exactly.” Nolan took a drink of his whisky and moved a little closer to Rafe.
“My concern is that a war is coming, and the clans will soon need to take sides. Form alliances. There’s no worry of the Variks siding with the Ministry after decades of disagreements, but I would hate for your clan to align itself with a poor choice when it comes to other clans. ”
“Mmmm,” Rafe hummed. “We both know you’re not talking about the MacPherson clan, so I have to assume that you’ve…” he paused, searching for the right word for a second, “got concerns when it comes to the Arsenault clan.”
“Some.”
“Don’t approve of their leader?” Rafe prodded when it seemed like Nolan wasn’t going to offer up any more details.
“I’ve not personally spoken with Philippe Arsenault, but my sources say that he’s strong, intelligent, and quite resourceful. All great assets in a leader and a clan member.”
Nolan licked his lips. It was strange seeing him be cautious now when he hadn’t been particularly cautious up to this point.
“My concern lies with some of his other clan members. I’ve heard rumors they are less than desirable if you’re looking for a strong ally.
” He smiled over at Rafe. “A good clan is like a well-maintained garden. A farmer plants a variety of crops to serve his needs. He nurtures them and gives them what they need to be strong. And if pests and infestations should appear, they need to be weeded out. The Arsenault clan needs to be weeded before it can be considered a strong ally.”
The chill had returned to Rafe’s bones and he sat very, very still. Breath barely lifted his chest. He could only stare straight ahead as Nolan’s calmly spoken words sank into his brain.
The Arsenault clan needs to be weeded out.
Like the murder of a seventy-year-old woman who’d been made into a vampire and would never have been a strong fighter.
Like the murder of two children who’d been turned into vampires and would never be able to survive on their own.
Someone was weeding out the weak from the Arsenault clan. He just didn’t know if Nolan MacPherson had a direct hand in it or not.
Every fiber of Rafe’s being screamed for him to bolt from the booth and call Philippe to tell him everything.
To rush straight to Arsenault Manor and barricade them all inside so no one else could be weeded out.
To slam his fist into Nolan’s face and keep punching until there was nothing left but bloody pulp and fangs.
But he did none of those things.
He lifted his drink to his lips and took only a moderate sip, praying he could somehow wash the acidic taste of Nolan’s words from his body.
It was only when all his swirling emotions were under tight control that he finally spoke.
“That is critical information to know. But why tell me? You’ve already admitted to speaking with Marcus on several occasions. Even with Aiden present, he’s clearly the one who handles such messy details as alliances.”
“True, but you’re the one who’s been seen the most with the clan leader.” Nolan gestured with his glass, moving it toward Rafe. “I’d wager Marcus would seek your opinion on the Arsenaults before making a decision.”
Rafe clinked his glass against Nolan’s. “And you’d win that wager.”
“I wonder why Philippe has chosen to work with you over Marcus,” Nolan murmured.
“Maybe he thought I’d be more accessible than Marcus since most of his nights are spent dealing with the Ministry.
Or maybe he thought I’d be easier to manipulate.
” And despite his love for Philippe, Rafe was sure both were very viable reasons when Philippe first thought about reaching out to Rafe and the Variks.
“Possibly.”
“Not a mistake you’d make, huh?” Rafe said with a smile and a playful wink.
Nolan’s answering smile seemed to catch for a split second, but it was just long enough to give him away.
Rafe’s own smile never wavered. He relaxed against the booth and slowly sipped his drink as if he had all the time in the world, while trying to not count the seconds that ticked by before he could warn Philippe.
Nolan was in no fucking hurry to leave. He clearly liked the scenery and Rafe’s booze.
They drank and talked about a lot of nothing.
Hell, Rafe was beginning to worry that Nolan was starting to see him as his new bestie.
Never. Gonna. Happen.