Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
With Harrison flying overhead, they had a bird’s-eye view of the streets and someone to watch their backs.
Since one of Thomas’s wives was related to some hotshot military operative in East Texas, they had access to his cast-off equipment, and he’d shared a few tech items designed for shifters.
Harrison had been outfitted with a communication device that clipped into his hair in human form, but once he transformed, it remained fastened to his black feathers.
Adrian hated the idea of Emma going inside with his invitation.
Anything could go wrong, up to and including the host taking offense to another vampire arriving in his stead.
He hoped Lord Ramsey would understand there were pressing, life-or-death reasons behind his absence—even if his wife would not.
Maybe he should have gone inside and allowed Emma to handle the bomb. So far, her clairvoyance hadn’t disappointed them yet.
“You okay, Zac?” Thomas asked, interrupting Adrian’s thoughts.
“No, I’m not okay. Riv’s inside with two or three dozen hungry vampires, and I’m sightseeing with you.” The jaguar shifter had been a nervous, pacing wreck since the plan was devised.
“I promise you, there isn’t a safer place for her right now in all the city.”
“Than a bar filled with vampires under threat from a group of witch-hating vampire murderers?”
“Point.”
Zacarias sighed. “I’m not worried about your people. Not now. The real problem here is the fallen angel. What if this Josh dude is nearby lurking with that thing? Taking on a warlock was bad business, but River makes it sound like this guy may as well be Bigot Gandalf or something.”
Harrison’s dry chuckle reached them through the communication channel. “Good one, dude.”
“Everyone has a weakness,” Adrian muttered.
“Even if he is nearby, he’s not invincible.
That spell must have exhausted him. He had every opportunity to get both of us, but he hid behind a shield while I rescued Emma instead of taking me out along with her.
I could be wrong, but I think if he had the power to free Sariel on his own, she’d be out already. ”
“So you’re thinking he can’t hold a defensive shield and attack at the same time.”
“Exactly. An experienced mage would have put up a fight against me. And now there’s more of us here to take him on.”
Thomas chuckled. “We’ll hit his ass so hard he won’t have the chance to cast a spell on anyone.”
Adrian grinned. The more he got to know the alpha wolf, the more he liked him.
He also wondered how many potential friendships and alliances the two factions had overlooked during their years of rivalry. Wherever he lived, the shifters tended to distrust vampires. Likewise, his kind saw them as animals.
Were they so different?
“Good plan. But let’s focus on the bomb first. We take that out of the picture, and we’ll be one step ahead.”
The event’s organizers had chosen the Chateau Noir for its strategic location, as well as its beauty.
Lacking a crowd but close enough for the guests to grab a wandering meal without traveling far, its ideal placement made it a perfect venue for a party.
While tourists were occupied with the late-night parades and entertainment, the three men moved unhindered around the block.
“Not even a whiff of Joe,” Zacarias muttered. “It’s impossible to track anyone when there are so many people around.”
“Honestly, if it were me, I’d send in the fodder and hang back out of the danger zone,” Thomas said. “I’m betting Joe and his demon-toting pal won’t be in the assault.”
“I found Joe and Josh,” Harrison spoke up over the radio. “They’re out on a moonlit stroll or something. Will let you know if anything changes.”
“Great,” Adrian replied as they turned down a side street and continued their sweep of the area.
“Over here,” Thomas called from the gated entrance to a narrow, private parking strip between the Chateau and its neighboring building. “Ugh, I can smell the chemicals over the dumpsters.”
A wrought iron gate with a digital lock barred their entrance, but three cars and one catering van occupied the unlit spaces on the other side.
After a quick glance down the street to ensure they were unobserved, Adrian vaulted over the gate.
Thomas and Zacarias followed him until the former sprinted forward to peer through the tinted windows.
Adrian frowned after testing one of the doors. Locked as expected. “We can break a win—”
The werewolf yanked the door open, bending metal and ruining the locking mechanism beyond repair.
“Or we can do that,” Zacarias said.
After a tentative step closer to the rear of the van, Adrian looked inside. Several drums of foul-smelling liquid occupied the rear, and if it was an odor to him, it must have been rancid to the shifters. Their noses wrinkled.
The unsophisticated detonator lay in the back of the van, a simple cellular phone connected to a homemade electric match.
“I don’t know about you two, but I have no idea how to disarm a bomb,” Thomas said. “Not one of my usual hobbies.”
“Google knows all,” Zacarias replied. “Or Harrison can get his feathered ass down here and share some methods.”
“Screw off,” Harrison replied. “I work with computers, not demolitions.”
Adrian leaned over the simple device, sweat beading on his temples and trickling down the side of his face. He had never dealt with a bomb before, but he was willing to bet the idiots who pieced the thing together barely knew what they were doing.
He hoped.
“We can try disconnecting the phone.” Adrian snapped the solder connections and crushed the cellular device in his fist to be safe. “Problem solved. No detonator, no explosion.”
Only, it was too easy. As Adrian stepped back from the vehicle and glanced around, Thomas stiffened, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
A high-powered round struck Zacarias in the shoulder and knocked him back against Adrian.
Then more gunshots followed.
With every vampire in attendance hiding behind a mask, Emma struggled to locate the hostess and her husband. She’d never met Lord or Lady Ramsey before, and Adrian had been reluctant to speak about them in detail.
He claimed they were no different from any other pair of vampire nobles, but she had her doubts.
“You would think the hosts would stick out,” River muttered beside her.
For her new friend’s safety, Emma refused to release her hand, even if it did feel silly to babysit a demigoddess with the power to make night into day. River was the safest person in all New Orleans.
Due to the nature of the party and the overall promiscuous nature of most vampires, no one questioned the two women exploring the gala with joined hands. Looked at them, yes. Admired them, certainly, but no one had a cross word to say.
Emma glued a flattering smile to her face and caught the attention of a passing waiter.
“Yes, ma’am?”
In the event that both Ramseys had asked to be left alone, she tapped into her natural gifts and put compulsion into her voice. “Excuse me. I’m looking for our spectacular hosts. Where can I find them?”
Taken in by her vampiric charm, the mortal’s eyes glazed over, and he tipped his head toward the upper balcony. “You’ll find Lord and Lady Ramsey upstairs at their table.”
“Thank you.”
She released the poor man and veered toward a curved stairwell with a stunning wrought iron balustrade.
“If you’ve never met them, how will we recognize them?” River asked halfway up.
“Adrian says Lillian and Carter Ramsey are inseparable in public. We’re looking for a tall blond man and a brunette.”
“That could be any number of couples we’ve passed.”
Emma shook her head. “They’ll stand out in a crowd once we find them. There’s always no shortage of leeches hanging off the nobility.”
Turning the corner brought Emma face to face with a mirror. Or rather, face to face with another vampiress in green lace and golden stilettos, her sleek hair cut into an angled bob like Emma’s wig.
Her escort, a tall man in a matching emerald waistcoat, appeared taken aback by their identical dresses. He glanced from Emma to his companion, raised his brows, and said, “Maybe I should consider myself doubly lucky.”
“Well, well, well. What do we have here? Carter, darling, should I be flattered or insulted?”
Shit. “Lady Ramsey, I had no idea,” Emma stammered out. Of all the times for her special senses to kick in, she hadn’t expected them to manifest as part of her creative subconscious.
And put her on the wrong side of the hostess’s temper.
“You know what they say, dearest. Imitation is the highest form of flattery.”
Lillian’s eyes narrowed, but her husband stepped forward and bowed low.
“Forgive our manners. We haven’t been properly introduced.” The lord took Emma’s hand first and kissed her knuckles, then repeated the gesture with River. “I’m certain I would recall meeting such lovely ladies.”
“I’m Emmaleigh Whittaker, visiting from Belleridge on behalf of Master Kennedy.”
“And your friend?” Carter asked.
“My—”
“Where is your babysitter?” Lillian demanded. “Is Adrian too afraid to show his face after trying to tank my magnificent fête? Does he not understand the hours I have devoted to coordinating this event? The time I’ve spent gathering only the most splendid morsels for our consumption?”
Emma stiffened. “With all due respect, Master Kennedy is ensuring the protection of this party.”
“Master Kennedy is a filthy coward,” Lillian seethed. She had the good graces to lower her voice, but a nearby dancer turned his head.
“Dearest—” Carter began to say, though she jerked away when he touched her hand.
“Don’t ‘dearest’ me. Adrian knew how important this gathering was to me, but where is he? Attempting to sabotage my special night. He even sent her in wearing my dress. I will never have this opportunity again, Carter. And you”—her gaze cut toward Emma—“you stink of him.”
“I—”
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”