Chapter Six
John
Iwas unaccountably annoyed when Marcus left without saying goodbye. I’m unquestionably angry when he returns.
Will, Rob, and I are in the comfortable front room, putting the finishing touches on our plan for the night. Someone knocks on the front door, and after an exchange of puzzled glances, Will rises to answer it. As soon as he opens his mouth, I know who’s at the door.
“Darling, you’ve come back!”
Rob and I flank Will in the doorway, where Marcus has a leather bag looped over one shoulder and a wheeled suitcase at his side.
He’s no longer wearing Will’s clothes, and while his utilitarian denim pants and cotton shirt aren’t as flashy as the silk blouse, the cotton shirt’s deep red color makes a nice contrast with his dark hair and eye.
He’s still wearing the black eye patch Will lent him, or one just like it, and he raises his chin, a subtle challenge.
I note all this in a flash, a snapshot I’ll set aside for later, once I’ve overcome my outrage. You’re not angry, you want him. Heart pounding, I resist the urge to grab Marcus by the arm and drag him away. “You should not be here.”
He rubs the side of his face with an open palm. “Uh, okay, if the offer—”
“Shut your foolish mouth.” Rob smacks my shoulder hard enough to deliver a warning. “Not you,” he says to Marcus. “You are most especially welcome, despite my lieutenant’s rudeness. Please, come in.”
Rob stands aside, angling himself to block me, which is fortunate, given the tightness in my groin. Marcus shifts his load and enters, his expression hard to read.
“I’ll show you where you can put your stuff,” Will says, toning down his usual fervor to something warm and inviting.
Rob shifts his weight till he’s close enough to grab my wrist. “After you’re settled, Marcus, come down and we’ll run through the plan for tonight.” His grip on me tightens. “Do you like tamales?”
Some of the worry fades from Marcus’s eye. “Sure.”
“Good.”
They leave us, their footsteps making the old wood floor creak. They’re on the stairs when Rob spins around, his grip on my wrist crushing. “Don’t be any more of a jackass than absolutely necessary,” he says through gritted teeth.
I wrench free of his grasp. “Why are you dragging him into this mess?”
“We’ve been through this.” Rob pokes my chest, hard. “We need him, and if you were thinking logically, you’d see that.”
He’s wrong. I am thinking logically. I’m also mad as hell.
“There’s a park not far from here. Go talk to the trees or something.” He waves at the door.
I close my eyes and inhale, debating whether to push the issue further.
“Go.” He puts more command in his tone, and I yield, leaving the house and stumbling down the gravel drive.
I have no idea where I’m going and honestly, I don’t care.
It’s been decades, a century, even, since my body has responded so strongly to another man’s presence the way it has to Marcus’s.
It’s something I will resist with every fiber of my being.
Striding along, I make an attempt at identifying the direction of the park.
The road that runs in front of the place we’re staying empties onto a busier street, with two lanes of traffic heading in each direction.
Small stores and two- and three-story buildings are scattered along it, and while there are small shrubs and grasses, there are no trees.
It doesn’t matter. I need to move, to give myself time to think.
I walk for an hour, maybe two, eventually finding the park, with more shrubby trees, spiky agave, and trails marked by white stone borders.
These trees don’t speak to me, or if they do, it’s not in a language I understand.
Still, by the time I return to the house, I’m closer to being at peace with the situation.
Marcus’s return caught me by surprise, and I’m a big enough man to admit that I handled things badly. Rob was right to be upset with me. The young wolf has made his decision, and I’ve made mine. I’ll simply need to abide by both of those choices.
On my return to the house, I find everyone seated around the dining room table. Cherie, the owner and chef, is serving something that looks like sausage rolls covered in red sauce with rice on the side. The hot, spicy scent reminds me that I’m starving. Breakfast was a long time ago.
“Join us,” Rob says, his most charming smile firmly in place. There’s a tightness around his eyes that I don’t like, enough to pique my curiosity and make me scan the faces around us. The others are paying more attention to their food than anything else.
Rob is at the far end of the table, with Marcus at one hand and Sonny at his other. Will is next to Marcus. Deliberately, I ignore the empty chairs and take the seat at the opposite end of the table so I can watch Rob’s face without making a show of it.
Cherie sets a plate in front of me and smiles. “Tamales with dirty rice.”
“Thank you.” There are two of the sausage rolls, and when I cut into one, I find it’s made of cornmeal and shredded meat, probably pork.
A single bite and I elevate tamales to the top of my list of favorite foods.
The plate itself is a fine example of cream stoneware and the silver is heavy.
This place we’re staying is top quality.
Everyone is busy eating, so between bites, I take stock. Will regales us with a story about how he and Rob fought a group of thugs to rescue a worthy young maiden, only to have the maiden slap them both for interfering with her game.
We all laugh at that, mainly from the enthusiasm of Will’s telling. Rob simply said primly, “I would rather help anyone in distress than the opposite.”
I raise my glass. “To our heroes.” We clink glasses and drink. Water. Rob really must have plans for tonight.
Some of us have seconds—well, I have seconds, which annoys Rob, further tightening the creases at the corners of his eyes. To compound that, I ask, “And have we heard from Fritz?” He’s the only member of our crew who hasn’t at least checked in.”
Rob raises one eyebrow, acknowledging that my attempt to provoke him was deliberate. Fritz and Rob share things the rest of us don’t. “He will arrive when he’s ready.”
“Ready for what?”
Rather than answer me, Rob clears his throat. “It’s time we discuss the business at hand.”
There’s a note in his voice I dislike, a hint of falseness. “What do you have planned?”
Cherie moves around us, collecting our plates. “Thank you,” Rob says as she passes him, though he waits to answer until she leaves the room. Then he meets my gaze directly. “We’re going to steal the Belle Etoile diamond.”
“We’re what?” Surprise is quickly followed by annoyance. He told me we were going to steal a diamond, which is, after all, the kind of thing we’re best at. Yes, a diamond that provides immortality to whoever possesses it, but ultimately, just a diamond.
He didn’t tell me we’d be stealing a diamond that’s currently in the Louvre.
You make it really hard for me to keep on with you, Rob Loxley.
“For the benefit of our new friend,” Rob says, tapping Marcus’s hand, “the Belle Etoile is exactly the kind of bauble our friend de Lisle likes to add to his collection.”
Will interrupts him with a laugh. “Let me guess, it was in one of the pieces stolen from the Louvre last month.”
“Stolen?” If anything, surprise heightens my annoyance with Rob. Why must he be so cagey?
Will rolls his eyes. “Guess it didn’t make the broadsheets in the Greenwood.”
Rob taps the table, quietly calling us to order. “So it was, in a necklace once worn by Queen Maria Amalia. Nasir has obtained intelligence that the piece is still intact and has also been brought to Los Angeles at the request of our dear Leander de Lisle.”
“Wait,” Marcus says. “I thought we were going to break into his computer network or something.”
“We are.” Rob’s more triumphant than the moment calls for. “But we need to distract him for a bit while you and Sonny work out how to do that.”
While I’m used to Rob giving others a different story than what he’s told me, Marcus’s expression moves from confusion to concern. He made his choice, I remind myself, though it sticks in my throat. I need to bring us back to the task at hand. “Where is the necklace?”
“Prince has it.”
“The musician? That’s impossible.” Marcus blurts, and when we all laugh, the color rises in his cheeks.
“No,” Rob says. “The vampire Elian Prince.”
“That’s a choice.” Sonny doesn’t bother to cover his smirk. “How the hell do you intend to take it from him? He’s not that old for a vampire, yes, but he’s got an extraordinary amount of power, and from what I understand, his stronghold is exactly that. Strong. Held. Like, impossible to penetrate.”
“That’s why we’re going there tonight. It’ll be a dress rehearsal.”
“Ooh,” Will interrupts him. “I love rehearsals.”
“Sorry, my friend.” Rob waves off his enthusiasm. “Tonight it’ll just be me and John.”
I stifle a sigh. Sonny or even Will would be a better choice, and both of them are likely to argue with Rob.
It’s Sonny who speaks up first. “You’re just going to waltz in?”
“There’s an event at Prince’s house this evening and I have obtained an official invitation.”
Clearly angry, Sonny goes as still as only a vampire can, and Will picks up the fight.
“Are you sure John is your best choice? There’s nothing I can do to disguise his height.”
“We won’t use disguises tonight. Only fake names.
” Rubbing his palms together, Rob fixes Will in a hard stare.
“I’ve made the call.” Those simple words make it clear there’ll be no more debate.
Instead, he turns to Marcus. “We will wear small cameras, so you’ll be able to track us.
If anything goes wrong, you can reach out for help. ”
“What if, uh . . .” Marcus stares at the tabletop. “Are you sure?” His uncertainty only makes me want to get him as far from this situation as possible. Yes, he made his choice, but I can’t help how I feel.
Sonny’s not quite ready to give in. “Who will he reach out to? We’ll all be here.”
“You can be our driver,” Rob says, eyes narrowed. “If there’s trouble, he can contact you to swoop in for the rescue.”
“Not sure I’ll be that much help,” Sonny mutters, his expression more relaxed.
“Of course,” Rob says breezily, turning his attention to Marcus. “We have an hour or so before we need to leave, so Sonny can spend some time better familiarizing you with the system.
“The beauty of our plan is its simplicity. The theft of the Belle Etoile will give de Lisle something to think about. A distraction. He’ll be uncertain about our goals and his attention will be on external things, while our real work is happening out of sight.”
A distraction? It’s not the strongest argument, and I hope the others will take Rob at his word. At some point, he may have to tell everyone how the diamond is a focus for immortality, and maybe he should do so now. We all need to know what’s at stake.
“Assuming you survive Prince and his scions,” Sonny says.
Rob gives him a level look. “No one has beaten us yet. Now, Cherie, where are those cookies?”
His smile does nothing to diminish the tension in the room. The owner brings out a platter with chocolate chip, peanut butter, and oatmeal cookies. Will and Rob try all three, and I wave them away. Sonny doesn’t try any of them, which makes sense, but neither does Marcus.
I’d noticed he only ate one of his tamales, too.
“Try one,” I say, sliding the platter toward his end of the table.
“Nah, I gotta . . .” His voice trails away.
“You and Sonny should go out to the barn and get started,” Rob says, managing to make an obvious dismissal sound jovial.
“Sure.” Sonny stands, ice-blue gaze on Rob as if he’s reading between the lines. “We’ll get you situated.”
They depart, leaving me with Will and Rob, who catches my eye. “Try one,” he says, his voice mocking.
That wipes the smile from my face. “He barely ate,” I protest.
“I noticed you noticing.”
“You didn’t have better things to do?”
He takes a deliberate bite of his cookie, chews, and swallows. “You, my friend, are not as impervious as you think.”
I glare at him, and after a moment, he gives me a one-shoulder shrug. “Be that way. Let me get my laptop. Someone should have sent me plans to Prince’s house.”
“Someone?” I say stiffly.
“Never mind who.” Rob shakes his long curls out of his face. “We’ve got our hands full as it is.”