Chapter 11
Eleven
The limousine trip back to Stewart International Airport was a quiet affair, aided by the muffling effect of the hoods.
Darian released the neck wire as they drove across the Hudson River. Cally pulled hers off and glared at him. He handed over their phones with an apologetic smile, then leaned back in his seat.
He’d forgone his usual suit, wearing jeans and a field jacket. Cally wondered if the gun she’d never seen was still under there somewhere, or if he’d packed it for the flight. Maybe he wasn’t armed at all, but she very much doubted it.
Beside her, Eve shook out her auburn hair, then threw her hood at Darian. He snatched it from the air without any expression, and reached out a hand for Cally’s. She was tempted to hold on to it—it might be useful when their positions were reversed sometime in the future—but she handed it over.
The flight back on the Order’s private jet was equally awkward. Cally and Eve exchanged a look or two and were perfectly civil to the flight attendant who brought them drinks, but they ignored Darian for the hour-long flight.
Cally flicked open her phone and winced as she saw the day-old missed messages from Noah.
It was like having another dad. She typed a quick apologetic reply, letting him know they were on their way back, but didn’t give him details.
If he met them at the airport and Darian saw him, it would only cause more complications later.
How were they ever going to give him the slip?
Lying awake the previous night, Cally had briefly considered bringing him in on the heist. With the connections the Order had, they might even have been able to contact WHOI and get access to Alvin.
But there was no way of hiding their objective, and Darian would hardly sign off on any mission involving the recovery of a vampire.
Despite his alleged blind devotion to Cally’s interests after only one day.
Darian followed them through the private terminal of Boston Logan International, his duffel bag hooked over his shoulder. Security was empty and the agents waved them through with a smile, then stopped Darian.
Cally walked faster, pulling out her phone and calling up an Uber on the app. “Let’s take this opportunity,” she muttered to Eve.
“Chance of getting an Uber before Darian catches us up?” Eve asked.
Cally grimaced. “Not high.”
She pocketed her phone, pushing open the door to the outside. They were on Prescott Street, parking lots and airport buildings all around them.
“Fuck it, let’s hide,” she said to Eve, running for the nearest large vehicle—a Ford pickup, halfway down a row of parked cars. Eve was close on her heels, and together they slipped between the vehicles, keeping low.
“I didn’t see anyone, did you?” Eve asked.
“No.”
“Under the truck?”
Cally laughed. “Sure, why not.”
They crawled under the parked vehicle, lying on the oily asphalt, and within seconds Darian exited the private terminal building.
Peering beneath the cars, Cally could only see his boots as he stopped and looked around, shifting as he turned to check the rest of the area.
Would he assume they’d got straight into a ride, or go looking for them?
Her phone vibrated in her pocket, the noise muffled, yet loud enough in the quiet of the parking lot.
She swallowed a curse, reaching for it, pushing the button to reject the call through the material of her jeans.
It fell dormant and she pulled it out, quickly opening the settings and turning off the vibrations.
Eve reached for her own phone, flicking the switch on the side, muting the alerts.
Then she grimaced, turning the screen to Cally to show the incoming call.
“How did he get our numbers?” she whispered as she tucked it away.
Cally didn’t reply, watching his feet as he took some initial steps toward them. Had he heard her phone? Were they hidden enough? If he found them, would he be angry? It would make it so much harder to give him the slip again.
The door of a nearby car opened, a man stepping out. He was only a dozen feet away, dressed in a suit with polished black shoes, a briefcase in one hand. Had he seen them hide? He’d been sitting in his car, right there, and Cally couldn’t imagine how he’d have missed them.
“Morning,” the stranger said as he walked past Darian.
“Hey,” Darian replied, sounding distracted. The stranger made it several paces past him before Darian’s boots turned on the asphalt. “Excuse me. Did you see two women come out of the terminal just now?”
“Uh, yeah. Two minutes ago?”
“Right. Did you see where they went?”
“Got into a car. Went that way.”
Cally raised her eyebrows at Eve, who mirrored her. Silence was the only safe reply.
“Crap,” Darian said. “Guess I just missed them. Thanks, friend.”
“Sure thing.”
The black polished shoes headed toward the terminal, while Darian’s brown boots hesitated, scuffing on the asphalt as he turned. Then he sighed and headed off down Prescott Street toward the main road.
Cally released the breath she’d been holding and peered beneath the line of cars until she couldn’t see his boots anymore. “I think he’s gone. Let’s give him a few minutes.”
“The kindness of strangers,” Eve muttered. “I want to buy that guy a coffee.”
“We haven’t seen the last of Darian.” Cally sighed. “He knows where I live.”
“So stay with Antoine.”
The Order probably did know where Antoine lived. But if they’d connected them, would they have been so ‘friendly’?
“I don’t have any clothes there.”
“Buy some.”
“I suppose.” Cally looked at Eve in alarm. “Oh shit. They’ll discover where you live too, won’t they?”
“I figured they already had,” Eve said with resignation. “I planned on camping out with you.”
“What about your work?”
“Uh, take long-term leave of absence for ‘personal reasons’ and hope I still have a job to come back to when the dust settles?”
Cally scowled. “I’m screwing your life up.”
“I don’t think we’ll ever have our old lives back again, babe. Coz, y’know, vampires and magic are real? How can you go back to working in an office knowing that?” Eve shook her head. “I know I can’t.”
Cally squirmed her way from under the pickup and peered around the corner of the next vehicle. “I think he’s gone.”
“So what now?” Eve said as she crawled out. “Tell Gabe?”
“I did think of it,” Cally said, “but what would the vamps do if they knew the Order existed and was sniffing around?”
Eve winced. “Start a war.”
“Exactly.” They headed back toward the terminal building. “I don’t know Gabe well enough to trust him not to go medieval on them, especially if he knows Darian is following us.”
“What about Antoine?”
“Right now, knowing will only torment him,” Cally said thoughtfully. “But the idea of him taking them on? It scares me, Eve.”
“So you can’t tell Noah or Zoey, either.”
“Not for now, no.”
The man in the suit and polished shoes stepped out as they approached. “Morning. Do you ladies need help?”
Cally gave him a smile. “Not anymore, thanks to you. We really appreciate the save.”
“Overbearing boyfriend.” Eve rolled her eyes. “He won’t let me leave him.”
The stranger nodded. “I figured it was something like that. Don’t let it get too bad before you go to the police.”
“She’s staying with me,” Cally said. “Thank you again for your help.”
“My pleasure.” The man gave them a last look, then headed back inside.
“Let’s get a coffee, give Darian time to leave the area, then get an Uber,” Cally suggested. “Dammit, I wish Antoine was here.”
“Not long now, babe. Then you’ll be able to see him, touch him”—Eve nudged her playfully with her shoulder—“curl up in bed with him, lick him, take his big—”
“Got it. Thanks.”
*
Cally let the Uber leave before pressing the gate buzzer.
I really should get a set of keys.
“Welcome back, madam.” Marcel’s voice came over the intercom and the gate clicked unlocked. Noah said something in the background, cut short as Marcel released the button. It had been enough to hear his tone, high with surprise and relief.
Noah waited for them in the entrance hall with his arms crossed, radiating hell hath no fury like a man given the slip. He didn’t say anything as Cally walked past, but his gaze ran swiftly over her, as if checking she was well, then he looked away.
The silence was worse than the recriminations she’d anticipated.
“Hi Noah,” Eve said. She’d wrapped the tome in her coat to disguise it; a conspicuous bulge.
Noah grunted in acknowledgment, and still said nothing.
“Going to unload upstairs. See you in the kitchen?”
“Sure,” Cally said, wondering if Noah would wait until they were alone before starting on her.
But he didn’t. He just watched her with eyes that showed less anger, more hurt. It served as a reminder that, thrall or not, he was still very much him, too.
“I’m sorry,” she offered. “I wouldn’t have gone if…” She trailed off, already regretting saying so much, and belatedly added, “…it hadn’t been necessary.”
“I would have come with you,” he said softly.
“I would’ve asked you to if I could.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched, disbelief flicking across his face, then he turned away and walked into the kitchen.
Shit.
Didn’t even ask where we’d been.
It still felt like she was lying to him.
Because I am.
Eve was back a moment later, arms divested of her load. She smiled reassuringly. “All right?”
“Fine.”
Eve nodded toward the kitchen. “Come on, I’m hungry.”
“Have you had lunch?” Marcel asked, as soon as they entered. He had a plate out and ready, and a variety of sandwich fixings and cold leftovers on the counter.
Noah leaned against the wall, posture rigid and gaze averted.
“Nothing since breakfast,” Eve said brightly, taking a seat at the kitchen table as though she was oblivious to the tension Noah exuded. “You’re a star, Marcel. Thank you so much.”
“I’m fine, thank you.” Cally knew she should be hungry, but she’d lost her appetite.
“Did you have a good weekend?” Marcel asked, as he prepped food for Eve. The question was delivered with his usual polite deference, but Cally heard the pointed tone he managed to convey.
“Yeah, it was fine.” Found a secret order. Got bribed, threatened, and blackmailed.
Noah made a noise in his throat, then walked out, his shoulders stiff.
“A drink, madam?” Marcel pulled her attention back to him.
“I’ll just get a water.”
“Please sit down, madam. I can manage.” It wasn’t really a request.
Cally sat warily, unable to dismiss the feeling of being summoned to the principal’s office. From across the table, Eve gave her a reassuring smile.
Marcel carried over a tray with two plates and three drinks with ice and lemon, serving them both as if Cally had agreed to eat. He took the last glass and sat at the end, giving Cally the weight of his steady gaze.
“Go on then,” she said. “Say what you must.”
“I had no intention of saying anything, madam,” Marcel demurred. “It’s not my place to remind you of what you already know.”
Cally winced. “I didn’t mean to piss Noah off. We... did what we had to do.”
“Of course you did.” He inclined his head as if there were no question.
He said nothing else, and it was a moment before Cally realized his response could’ve been to either part of what she’d said, or both parts. She narrowed her eyes at him.
The kitchen door burst open, and Zoey stormed in. “Where the fuck did you go?”
“Hi to you too.”
Zoey leaned on the end of the table, eyes glaring. “Do you even understand what you did to Noah?”
Cally picked up her glass of water and deliberately leaned back in her chair, her irritation rising. “I’m not oblivious.”
“You sure the hell act like you are. You know what Antoine’s last words were to him, and you know what a compulsion does to us.” She studied Cally’s face, half angry, half incredulous. “Don’t you care?”
Damn it. “I’m sorry, okay? There wasn’t much choice. But I don’t need a bodyguard. I can keep myself safe, I’ve been doing it for years.”
Zoey straightened abruptly, a fist thumping into the table in exasperation. “This is different, and you know it is. It’s not just about you. You’re the only one who can keep Antoine alive.”
As if I don’t know.
Wait… how did she…?
“Noah told you,” Cally said flatly.
“Yeah, he told me. We’re all in this together.” She shot a sharp look. “Right?”
For a moment, Cally considered asking Noah to come back in and sharing everything. But if she did, Noah would tell Antoine as soon as they next visited, and that wasn’t the solution. “Right,” she agreed instead, and took a sip of her water.
Zoey’s glare intensified. “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?”
Cally swallowed a sigh. “Look, I wasn’t off getting my hair done. I understand I hurt Noah, and I’ve already apologized to him. This was something we needed to do, okay?”
“And you’re not going to tell us?”
“I will, but this isn’t the right time.”
Zoey gave her a searching look, then threw her hands up. “Fine, keep your secrets. Just don’t do it again, all right?”
“Where’s Gabe?” Eve asked around a mouthful of sandwich, deliberately changing the subject.
“I believe he’s at his apartment,” Marcel replied. “Most likely asleep.”
“Are you okay if we stay here for a few days?” Eve asked.
“Of course, madam.”
Zoey narrowed her eyes but said nothing, then turned and left.
“She’ll get over it.” Eve reached across the table to pat Cally’s hand. “Noah, too.”
“Will he?” Cally asked Marcel. He would know best.
“I am certain of it,” the elderly retainer replied. “He is fond of you.”
“Today?”
Marcel tilted his head. “Perhaps.”
“Good. Because I want to go and see Antoine.”