Chapter 17
Seventeen
Rafe found himself standing outside the Arsenault front door the next night, his mind only partially settled.
Marcus had made good on his promise to speak with his brothers.
Bel even made a rare appearance at his penthouse, looking quite put out that Rafe hadn’t brought his concern to him.
Rafe soothed his twin, though not exactly with the truth.
He’d wanted Beltran to consider the situation with his brilliant, analytical mind.
Rafe had been concerned that if he spoke directly with Bel, his twin would agree with him if only to ease Rafe’s worries and guilt.
He was desperate to make sure Lola and the others were protected, but he didn’t want to do it at the risk of his brothers.
He hadn’t heard from Winter yet. That could have been due to Marcus being unable to reach him, or maybe Winter was still thinking about the suggestion of becoming a clan, which would mean welcoming outsiders.
In the end, he wasn’t too troubled by Winter’s silence. His little brother would come around.
At least if his own people were secure, Rafe could turn his full attention to Philippe and the Arsenault clan.
The door opened, and Rafe couldn’t say he was pleased to see Jullien on the other side.
The vampire made Rafe nervous. Rafe wanted to think it was only the ugly tang of jealousy that made him suspect Jullien, but he was also well placed within the clan.
He’d been with Philippe the longest. He knew everyone, and he would be the one person Philippe would never suspect.
“Why do you keep coming back, Varik?” Jullien asked. He remained standing in the doorway, his wide frame blocking Rafe from entering.
“I wish to help your clan,” Rafe replied.
“I’m beginning to agree with Ezra’s suggestion to align with the MacPherson clan. Your concern is more focused on Philippe and his bed than the problems of the Arsenaults.”
“And why does it matter to you what happens in Philippe’s bed so long as we locate the bastard hunting your clan?” Rafe stepped into Jullien’s personal space, his nose barely an inch from Jullien’s. “Or would you rather we not find that person?”
“Fuck you, Varik. You don’t care about the Arsenaults. You don’t care about Philippe. You’re having some fun, and then you’re going to toss him aside. You don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself and your brothers. You—”
“Jullien!” Philippe’s voice thundered through the hall and had Jullien jerking away from Rafe.
He turned toward his clan leader so Rafe could now see Philippe standing just a few feet away in the relative gloom of the home.
His face was flushed red, and his jaw was clenched as if he were trying to hold back a tirade.
“Master Arsenault,” Rafe said smoothly, trying to unruffle Philippe’s feathers. Not the easiest of tasks when his best friend had just argued that he was being used by his lover.
“Come in, please,” Philippe instructed. Each word was stiff and clipped.
Rafe entered and closed the door behind him. He stepped around Jullien, who remained glaring at Philippe.
“I was hoping we could spend some more time brainstorming and researching your concern,” Rafe said.
See? He could be diplomatic and calming when he tried.
He normally didn’t want to try, but he wanted to for Philippe.
He found himself wanting to do a lot of things since meeting Philippe he would have considered out of character in usual circumstances.
Philippe sent one last glare at Jullien and stormed into the library with Rafe on his heels. Rafe paused only to close the door while Philippe walked to the far side of the room. The silence hung heavy between them. Rafe didn’t quite know what to say to make Philippe feel better.
“Well?” Philippe snapped, startling Rafe. “Aren’t you going to deny it? Say that you’re not fucking me for a bit of fun.”
“I didn’t think I had to.” Rafe smirked and strolled across the room, weaving around the furniture that separated them.
“I was always quite sure that I was faced with the smartest, most astute vampire in all the Americas.” He closed the distance between them and reached up to cup Philippe’s cheek.
The flush was still there, but Rafe had a feeling it was more embarrassment than anger now.
“I thought this man was well aware of my blind devotion to his happiness and well-being.”
Philippe closed his eyes and leaned his head against Rafe’s palm. “Mon amour, forgive me,” he whispered.
“There’s mon ange,” Rafe practically purred at the softness in Philippe’s voice. “Nothing to forgive. You have so much on your mind. You worry about your people. You shouldn’t need to worry about the one you’ve trusted with your body.”
“I trust you with my heart, Rafe.” Philippe opened his eyes. His startling green eyes held Rafe in their warm grip. “Don’t you know that? Here I thought you were the smartest, most perceptive man.”
“You make me a fool,” Rafe murmured when he could get his tongue working again.
He didn’t want to talk of hearts and love.
Not with Philippe. They had no future together.
No hope. The best they could have was an eternity of stolen moments and desperately whispered prayers that their clans would never be on the opposite side of any matter.
But even that seemed impossible as the Ministry faced more attacks and more clans tore each other apart.
Closing his eyes, Rafe roughly captured Philippe’s lips in a kiss to silence them both.
No more words about hearts and beds. He didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t break his own heart.
But he could always show Philippe how he truly felt with his body.
He poured himself into their kiss and Philippe responded, pressing into him.
Soft little whimpers of need and pleasure crawled up his throat to sweeten the kiss.
When they broke apart, Philippe smiled, and Rafe felt a little more settled.
“You said something about brainstorming,” Philippe murmured and Rafe chuckled.
“I’m not sure what I said when I walked in that damned door. I just needed to see you.”
They laughed and separated, though Rafe would have much rather stayed wrapped around him. But he did need to help Philippe find his killer, even if it meant pointing a finger at someone within the clan. He had to put Philippe and his clan’s safety first. Above even his own love for the man.
Philippe walked over to the desk where he picked up a piece of paper and handed it over to Rafe. There were nine names on it. Two of the names he’d mentioned earlier as potential targets had stars placed next to them along with stars next to Jullien and Ezra.
“I think they are the most likely to be targets,” Philippe said.
The paper crinkled in Rafe’s hand as he looked over the vampires who had been sadly reduced to simple prey by some fucker.
Reining in his temper, Rafe forced himself to concentrate on the list itself.
“I don’t understand why you’ve marked Jullien and Ezra.
They strike me as being quite strong and capable.
Jullien makes regular appearances at my clubs. Has for years.”
“Ming and Peter are my most vulnerable members, yes. But Ezra and Jullien are my oldest and strongest. Th-this bastard has succeeded in picking off three of my clan members,” Philippe stammered.
He paused and drew in a deep breath before continuing, his voice calmer.
“He’s going to grow bolder soon. If he has us so well scouted, he must realize the importance of Ezra and Jullien.
If they’re taken out, I will have no way of protecting my remaining members. ”
“I’ll grant you that it’s critical to identify who might be the most vulnerable to attack, but we’ve also got to uncover the killer and stop him.”
Philippe looked up at him, his eyebrow raised in clear irritation. “I thought we’ve been doing that.”
Rafe’s heart kicked up, and he rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms on his slacks.
It was kind of ironic that in all his years of expressing distasteful and upsetting thoughts to his brothers that he would struggle now with Philippe, someone who was not his family.
He’d spent a lifetime ruffling feathers and pissing people off.
But things were so very different when it came to the leader of the Arsenault clan.
“I wonder if maybe we haven’t been fully honest with ourselves about the potential killer.”
Philippe turned and leaned against the edge of the desk, his arms folded over his chest. “I really thought we were past the diplomatic coddling. What’s on your mind?”
Oh yes, Philippe made it all sound so simple and easy. But if roles were reversed, Rafe knew he would not take these next accusations calmly. It didn’t matter who was delivering the words. “Have you considered all the people who know your clan the best?”
“Who have I missed?”
Rafe licked his lips. “What about your own clan?”
Philippe laughed, but it sounded forced as he shoved away from the desk and paced to the middle of the room. “My own clan? You think someone within the Arsenaults would turn on their own people. You think someone within my family would betray us.” His voice grew louder with each word.
“Philippe…”
“How dare you! I have carefully interviewed and researched each person that has been brought into the Arsenault clan. I trust my people.” Philippe turned toward Rafe and curled his lip at him.
“But that’s not something the Variks understand.
You don’t believe in trusting outsiders. You’re not a clan.”
Rafe flinched at the harshness of his words.
They weren’t wrong. He and his brothers were very good at trusting each other, but it was not something that touched many others outside their family.
“It’s something I’m trying to remedy now.
I talked to Marcus yesterday. It’s why I didn’t come to see you sooner. ”
“What?”