Chapter Four
MINA
The next day, everyone went about their usual routine, but nothing felt normal. Bene didn’t crack any jokes. Roux didn’t bluster. Henrik didn’t snicker or let out bored yawns. They had breakfast as usual, then walked to the far edge of the lawn, speaking in low tones.
Did I pique my ears and make the most of my super-sharp sense of hearing? Of course I did. But they quickly moved out of range, and I didn’t catch a word.
Roux said something to Henrik, who glanced back at the house and leaned even closer to the others to reply.
Then it hit me. I could shadow-walk over and listen in.
It also struck me that I shouldn’t, but I was so desperate for information, I shoved my reservations to the very bottom of the regret bin and went ahead anyway.
Grabbing Madame Picard’s week-old newspaper, I sat with my back to them in a chair on the rear patio.
I settled in for a moment, noting every detail, from the slight slouch of my shoulders to the height and angle of the newspaper.
Then I conjured up an identical image directly on top of myself, took a deep breath, and slid away.
My hands shook as I tiptoed a few steps and glanced back. The illusion was perfect. Which wasn’t too hard since it was just the back view, and the newspaper would explain why I didn’t move.
But move I did — the real me, at least — feeling grateful for an overcast day that freed me from having to erase my shadow. I slunk across the lawn the way Roux did in tiger form… Okay, okay — nothing like Roux, whose movements were smooth and graceful. For me, silent and invisible would do.
On and on I crept, with no one noticing a thing. I stayed upwind, not ready to attempt to mask my scent too.
Then Henrik glanced at the illusionary me, and I froze. He looked away, then looked again, tilting his head.
My heart hammered. Summoning all my concentration, I made the corner of the illusionary newspaper wobble in the breeze. Then I went all out and made fake me turn the page.
Henrik watched for another few seconds, then turned back to Bene and Roux.
So, whew. I snuck closer. And closer…
“…if we don’t hear from him in another two days…” I caught Roux saying.
I took another step, then stopped as my moral compass went from spinning aimlessly to true north. This felt wrong. Very wrong.
On the other hand, they were keeping information from me and generally being mean. Didn’t that give me license to do the same?
No, it didn’t, I scolded myself while creeping away. Friends didn’t spy on friends. I didn’t spy, period. I had principles to uphold.
Principles that were sorely tested, but they held on, if barely. I retreated to illusionary me, adjusted the real newspaper to the exact position of the imaginary one, then let the magic go.
And, poof! The air pressure dropped slightly, and I exhaled, then hastily turned another page. A page that remained as blank to me as the conversation taking place just out of earshot, but oh well.
My head throbbed, and I closed my eyes, hating that I had enough of a criminal mind to consider eavesdropping on my friends but not the guts to follow through. On the plus side, I’d taken the next step as far as shadow-walking was concerned. So I decided to call it a win.
A minute later, I headed inside, gobbled down a thick square of Madame Picard’s baking chocolate — just to stave off another headache, I swear! — then resumed work in the upper floor of the west wing.
Two hours later, I awarded myself a five-minute break on the back step. I closed my eyes and tilted my face toward the sky, where the sun had finally peeked out through the clouds. The men had long since ended their powwow and were out of sight, though definitely not out of mind.
Footsteps sounded across the lawn, and a shadow fell across my face.
“Got a second?” Bene asked.
I cracked an eye open, raised a hand against the sun, then dropped it again.
“No.”
I closed my eyes, wishing him away while simultaneously hoping he would stay.
He sat beside me and nudged me with his elbow. “I brought you a gift.”
Paper rustled as he pressed something into my hands.
I’d been doing my best to stay bitchy and aloof, but I just didn’t have it in me.
“A gift?” I asked, ninety percent excited, ten percent suspicious.
“Yep, a gift. Go ahead. Open it.”
The “wrapping” was just a paper bag, but hey. It was the thought that counted. I pulled out a small, round object and broke into a smile.
“A snow globe!” I shook it, making fake flakes stir around a line of historic buildings. Then I read the letters beneath. “Brussels.”
“Brussels.” Bene nodded.
I looked at him, and he dipped his chin, confirming that was where they’d been.
My mind filed away that clue to Marius’s whereabouts. Now, if only I could find a snow globe that revealed a dragon’s location in real time.
I shook it again, then closed my eyes and sighed.
Bene cocked his head. “What?”
I considered the wisdom of sharing my emotions, then went ahead, consequences be damned.
“I’m just bemoaning my taste in men. I could have a guy who brings me good humor and gifts instead of one who disappears without a word.”
Bene waggled his eyebrows. “Not too late, you know.”
I laughed. Ah, but it was too late. Marius had thoroughly conquered my heart. Too bad I hadn’t conquered his.
“Seriously, what’s stopping us?” Bene persisted.
“Sorry, Bene. Not interested. Sleeping with you would be like sleeping with a brother. It would feel all wrong.”
He leaned in with a lusty, “Believe me, I could make it feel just right.”
I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. I prayed he was, because otherwise…ick. Making the moves on me after only one day without Marius? It just wasn’t right.
I shook my head firmly. “You should have slept with Claudette while you had the chance.”
“I did,” he said bluntly.
My mouth fell open, though really, I shouldn’t have been surprised. The local woman I’d hired to help with meals was a bit of a wild child.
He shrugged at my expression. “What can I say? She offered.”
“I bet she did,” I muttered.
“Besides, hard-to-get is much more fun,” he declared.
Again, I wondered. Joke or pure flirt?
I stood to go. “Then prepare to have fun for a long, long time. Oh, and thanks for the snow globe.” I shook it as I opened the back door, making flakes swirl around Brussels Town Hall.
He heaved a tragic sigh. “You’re welcome.”
The doorbell rang, and a moment later, Henrik called through the house.
“A visitor for you, Mina.” Then he added in a disapproving hiss, “That police officer friend of yours.”
My stomach sank. Clement? Here? Now?
A police officer was the last person I wanted around a house full of supernaturals with checkered pasts.
“Speaking of men you could sleep with…” Bene murmured.
“Bene!” I admonished.
“Seriously, Mina. Why hold out for a guy who takes off without a word?”
He was right, dammit.
“And lucky you for having a range of choices,” Bene went on. “Most women would envy you.”
“Ha. Would they also envy my leaky roof, busted plumbing, and renovation bills?”
Bene grinned. “If anyone can do it, it’s you.”
Deciding he meant restoring the chateau and not carrying on with three men at one time, I hurried to the entry hall.
“Clem,” I said, trying to summon enthusiasm.
“Mina.” He doffed his hat and lit up, making me feel guiltier than ever.
We traded three kisses, then stepped back. Well, I stepped back. Clem barely moved, gazing at me dreamily.
I could have beaten my head against a wall. I had two stunningly attractive men practically throwing themselves at me here at the chateau, but the only man I really wanted was AWOL.
“So, what brings you here?” I prompted.
Clement snapped out of whatever impossible fantasy he’d been entertaining and held up a pastry box.
“Madame Martin sends her regards.”
I sighed. “Still trying to set us up, huh?”
He nodded. “Her and everyone else in town.”
“Except Jacques,” I muttered. The portly, fifty-plus farmer hit on me every chance he could.
Clement’s eyes took on a dangerous sheen, and I waved my hands. “Don’t worry about Jacques.”
He jutted his jaw in a way that suggested, Fine. I’ll just worry about that dragon shifter of yours.
I peeked in the box and practically drooled.
“Chocolate religieuse. Yum.” The round, cream-puff-like pastry was my favorite, and Madame Martin knew it.
There were two, of course, making it impossible to turn Clement away.
“Can I invite you in? We could make tea,” I offered, praying he would say no.
“Sure.” He beamed.
I wrestled my grimace into a stiff smile. Didn’t he have more pressing matters, like patrolling for crimes?
Of course not, because this was Auberre, where the greatest transgressions were fashion crimes like sandals worn with socks…and it was autumn, so not really the season for that. Plus, I doubted the French Code Pénal listed such offenses.
“This isn’t just a pleasure call.” Clement’s voice dropped ominously. “I have a few questions for you.”
My gut flipped. Henrik froze in the midst of ascending the stairs. The floorboards in the dining room creaked as Bene leaned in to eavesdrop.
“Sure,” I said as brightly as I could, though my heart was pounding.
Would this visit start with pastries and end with handcuffs? Was the game up for me and my mercenaries? Was this part of a nationwide raid, with Gordon getting busted as we spoke?
Then I caught myself. Those men were not my mercenaries. All I was doing was renting a few rooms, right?
But, no. I’d long since followed them down a deep, dark rabbit hole, which made me just as culpable.
I led Clement to the kitchen, where I brewed tea and transferred the pastries to my grandmother’s fine china. If this was a bust, I would go down in style.
But, shit. Was accessory to illegal dealings a felony charge? Would my criminal record transfer to North America and ruin my teaching career too?
God, I was so screwed.
Balancing tea, cups, and the pastries on a tray, I headed for the back door, which Clement opened for me.