Chapter Two
GENEVIèVE
Madame Martin rang up my purchases, and I exited the boulangerie to a chorus of goodbyes.
I’d parked down the street on the left, but my eyes went right, where Clem stood in earnest discussion with Claudette.
It stood to reason that Clement’s interest in her was purely professional, but I couldn’t help feeling jealous.
With some effort, I tore my eyes from them, turned, and walked into a brick wall.
Oof.
“Watch it,” a deep voice grumbled.
“Pardon—” I started, then glared. “You. Again.”
I should have been happy to bump into one of Auberre’s few eligible, under-forty bachelors, but this one was beyond annoying.
“A pleasure to see you too.” His voice was low and growly, as usual. Maybe he’d missed his morning coffee?
“Bonjour, Roux,” I muttered, stepping around him.
“Bonjour,” the tiger shifter growled.
The man was best described as David Beckham meets Bollywood and GI Joe. His hair and skin were light brown, and his amber eyes would have been beautiful if they hadn’t been so intense.
“Why is it that everywhere I go, I find you?” I groused, though I’d already figured it out.
My sister had assigned him to protect me from lurking, evil forces. Which seemed pretty unlikely in this forgotten little corner of Burgundy, but not impossible, given everything Mina had been through.
“It’s a small town and a free country,” he grunted.
“Not when you’re being stalked,” I muttered, opening the car door.
His expression told me I’d wounded his honor. And there was a lot of that in him to wound. I didn’t know enough tiger shifters to know whether that was a general characteristic or something particular to him. But boy, was the guy touchy.
“Stalking is what the enemy does,” he grumbled.
“I don’t have enemies.” When he snorted, I grimaced. “Ex-boyfriends don’t count.”
He rolled his eyes, distracting me momentarily. They were the color of sunset — all those colors, in fact — and downright beautiful. But brooding, too, like every problem in the world was packed behind them.
“I mean real dangers,” he said.
“Like tigers?” I tossed my purchases in the back seat.
He gestured curtly, changing the subject. “You shouldn’t leave your car unlocked.”
I waved around. “This is Auberre, not Paris. And even in Paris, no thief would bother with this car.”
The battered little Citroen had been built long, long before I graduated from high school. In my mind, that wasn’t too long ago, but our fifteen-year reunion was right around the corner.
I slammed the door and walked to the driver’s side.
But Roux blocked the way, arms crossed, legs braced. Did he think I was going to shove my way past him? And what the hell did he schlepp around in all those cargo pockets?
“What did the cop want?” he demanded.
“A baguette, a raisin bun, and a brioche.”
He glared down at me as only 180 pounds of muscled tiger shifter could.
“I mean, what information did he want?”
“No, you mean, what information was I dumb enough to give him?”
From the day I’d arrived at the chateau, I’d had secrecy drilled into me.
I wasn’t to share any details about our houseguests (all supernaturals), their true professions (mercenaries), or what they suspected my beloved godfather of (all kinds of bad stuff).
And I certainly wasn’t to mention any long-lost artworks.
Roux jutted his jaw. “Well, did you?”
“Of course not.” I huffed and walked around the back of the car.
Roux walked around the front and thrust a hand against the driver’s side door before I could open it.
“What did Claudette want?” he barked next.
“A job.”
He scoffed, then caught my expression and stared. “Tell me you didn’t.”
“I didn’t.”
We glared at each other for ten full seconds before I gave in.
“Okay, I did. And as much as I hate to pull the I inherited the chateau, not you card, I will. That’s my decision, not yours.”
“And your sister’s. She’ll be furious.”
I reached for the door handle, but he smacked his hand over it. I wasn’t as fast to react, so my hand landed on his, and a little zing went through me.
I whipped my hand back and shook it in the air.
“Yeesh. Attack me with static electricity, why don’t you,” I complained, then motioned to where Clement and Claudette stood talking, just down the street. “Do I need to call my police officer friend for help?”
Roux twisted to look over his shoulder, and my dirty mind pictured rows of rippling abdominal muscles. The guy was a real pain, but damn, did he keep his body sculpted.
Roux looked at Clem, then back at me. Down at me, in fact, making the most of his eight-inch height advantage.
“He’s not a friend,” he warned.
Sad, but true. Clem was Mina’s friend, but not mine.
“He’s a cop.” Roux’s voice dropped to a gravelly whisper.
“A harmless, small-town cop.”
“Recently transferred from the special crimes unit in Marseille.” He leaned in, and my nostrils filled with his fresh scent. “A transfer he made when we arrived here. Funny coincidence, don’t you think?”
“Wouldn’t he have launched a raid or busted you all by now?”
“Maybe he’s still gathering intel.”
“Maybe you’re paranoid.”
His eyes flashed. “I prefer cautious.”
He also preferred security consultant to mercenary, I knew, but I let it slide.
“Seriously, Roux. If you guys are such bad news, my sister would have long since kicked you out of the chateau.”
“We’re not the problem. Gordon is.”
Gordon, my generous godfather, was a rich and successful businessman. But not all his businesses were legit, as my sister had learned. I trusted her, but I’d also trusted Gordon my whole life. Which of them should I believe in now?
“Are you implying Clem is using us to gather information on Gordon?”
“I’m saying we need to be careful. You, especially.”
“Wow. You really think I’m stupid, don’t you?”
He snorted. “You’re sharp as a scalpel, but you’ve spent the last few years in…New Hampshire?”
“Maine,” I grumbled. “With lots of trips to Boston,” I added defensively.
“Working for a children’s theater, right?”
I did a double take. Roux, who made a point of ignoring me when he wasn’t forced to follow me around like an unwanted bodyguard, actually paid attention to such things?
“Not a children’s theater. The Children’s Theater of New England,” I corrected, lest he think we were an amateur operation that threw together the occasional puppet show. “We’ve won awards, you know.”
He nodded. “Two Community Theatre Spotlight Awards for set design. I know.”
My mouth hung open. He did?
“My point is, you’ve left that world,” he said. “And no matter how competitive community theaters might be, I guarantee, you’re in an entirely different level of cutthroat here.”
I gulped, then tried a joke. “You mean, in Auberre?”
He shook his head, dead serious. “I mean, in the world your godfather has dragged you into.”
A little chill went down my spine.
“You have to be careful about who you invite to the chateau,” he concluded.
“Well, that will be hard since the plan is to rent the place out for events.”
He made a face. “I mean, until then, when we’ll hopefully have this all sorted out.”
I wanted to ask what all this was, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
“So, having Claudette around is a no-go. Especially given her background,” he whispered.
Anger flared in me, and I stuck a finger at his chest.
Zing! More static electricity. Did the man rub himself with balloons or something?
“Her background?” I nearly shrieked. He meant consorting with vampires, but I doubted he knew the rest of the story.
Roux patted the air with his hands, telling me to quiet down.
I jerked my head to the passenger side and growled, “Get in. Now.”
He hesitated. Did he think I was going to kidnap him?
“Get in, dammit, and I’ll tell you a thing or two about her background.”
His eyes narrowed, but he did as he was told, slamming his door in tandem with me.
Clem, I noticed, didn’t so much as glance our way. I could be abducted by a tiger shifter, and he would never know.
My mood plunged, and it showed in my snippy tone.
“The summer my father died, everyone said how sorry they were. You know what Claudette said?”
Roux waited, lips tight, his knees practically to his chin in the confines of the compact car.
“She said, ‘I wish mine died too.’ And for the first time, I put it all together,” I said.
Roux paled, indicating he had too.
“I finally realized why she put off going home after playtimes,” I said. “Why she never invited me to her house, and why my grandmother strictly forbade me from ever going there. Why hanging out with a wild crowd was better than spending time at home, and why she ran away again and again…”
Roux’s expression went hard, and a muscle ticked in his cheek.
I gazed off into the distance. “I used to feel sorry for myself for losing my father at a young age, but Claudette taught me how lucky I was to have a good dad instead of… Well, instead of the monster she had.”
Roux flexed his fingers, and the points of his tiger claws showed.
“No one ever did anything?”
“Madame Fontaine contacted the authorities several times, but nothing ever came of it.” I took a deep breath. “But Claudette got her wish eventually. Her father died in a work accident.”
Roux’s eyebrows jumped. “Accident?”
I shrugged. “Something with heavy machinery. So maybe someone did do something. I never asked, and no one ever said. But I figure Claudette deserves a lucky break from time to time. Like now.”
We both watched as she and Clem walked toward the end of the street.
“What about Clement?” he asked, a little less harshly than before.
I snorted. “You can’t possibly blame him. He was just a kid then too.”
“Not blaming. Maybe looking for something positive about the guy.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Says the mercenary about the police officer?”
He closed his eyes briefly, then flashed a bitter smile. “Touché.”
For the briefest of moments, he looked older, sadder. Then he ran a hand over his three-day shadow, blew out a long, slow breath, and opened the door.
“I’ll be going, then,” he said, so quietly, I ached.
“No!” I blurted, then caught myself. “I mean, wait.”
He looked at me, confused.
“I mean, that came out too harsh,” I finally managed.
Roux had spent years in the military, including several tours in war zones, and he was damn proud of it. But he’d been forced to accept an honorable discharge after questioning one too many orders. Another example of principles getting the best of him.
So, shoot. My comment had definitely touched a raw nerve. I didn’t like the guy, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t be civil.
“Sorry. What is that called…? Displaced anger? From thinking about Claudette, I mean. I didn’t intend to take that out on you.”
I had many character flaws, but I could be humble when I had to.
He nodded, then pushed the door open and slid out, murmuring, “All good, Geneviève.”
But it wasn’t, I sensed, feeling awfully small.
“Au revoir,” he murmured, closing, not slamming, the door.
I waggled my fingers less obnoxiously than usual, then started the engine and drove off. Seconds later, I reached the end of the block, where Clem stood, back turned to me, watching Claudette walk away.
He barely glanced up when I passed. But when Roux — already in his vehicle and following me — passed, Clem’s head whipped around.
I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I heard two mutually resentful growls. Clem’s wolf-shifter side growling at Roux, and Roux’s tiger snarling back.
Boys, boys, I wanted to say. Let’s keep the peace in Auberre, all right?
Then I remembered this was no joke. Auberre might be a sleepy little town, but evil forces lurked, even here.
I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel.
Was Clement’s job transfer merely a coincidence or the harbinger of trouble?
Was my generous godfather the worst kind of godfather, as my sister warned?
And what about Claudette? Was I doing the right thing by offering her a chance, or was I stirring fuel into a simmering cauldron?
Then there was Roux. What would it take to get him off my case?
I sighed, did my best to clear my head, and drove on.