Christian (Vampires in America: The Vampire Wars Book 10) (16 page)

The vampire sitting at Christian’s left blew out an impatient breath. “I’d like to know why Hubert’s moving on the South at all,” he said, in heavily accented English. “Why not take advantage of the mess Vincent created in Mexico when he killed Enrique, and seize that territory instead?”

This had to be Stefano Barranza. Marc’s info put him as a close associate of the now-dead Enrique, so it made sense that he’d be unhappy with Vincent’s rule. It was just stupid, however, for him to pretend Vincent wasn’t powerful enough to defend his territory, or that Enrique hadn’t deserved to die. In Christian’s view, Vincent had done the world, and vampires in particular, a huge favor by taking the corrupt lord out.

“Hubert is targeting what he sees as the most vulnerable territory,” Christian said quietly. “Mathilde was supposed to have eliminated Raphael, which would have weakened Anthony.”

Anthony bristled at this dismissal of his power, but he didn’t dispute Christian’s reasoning. And Christian didn’t give a fuck about insulting Anthony, so he continued. “As for Vincent, he was Enrique’s lieutenant for more than a century—a position he won by virtue of his superior strength. And let’s not forget that Vincent won the territory by defeating Enrique in an open challenge. He’s a much tougher opponent, and Hubert likes to win.”

“Well I for one would like to see an independent South,” Weiss snapped predictably. “Raphael has far too much power already.” Coming from a vampire on the run from Aden, this wasn’t surprising. After all, Aden was a staunch Raphael ally.

What amazed Christian was that, hatreds and resentments aside, he seemed to be the only vampire in this room who appreciated the genius of Raphael’s North American alliance. From what little he’d been able to piece together, it was precisely that alliance which had thwarted Mathilde long enough for Raphael to break free and defend his territory. Christian was also the only one here who truly comprehended what life would be like if Hubert succeeded in establishing himself on this continent. Mathilde was gone, but there were others who would follow in Hubert’s footsteps if he succeeded, and every vampire in North America would pay the price. This was a huge continent. The wars would never end.

“Hubert is only one vampire,” Anthony rasped. “He can be defeated like any other, which is why we’re here.”

“You propose all of us working together then?” Christian asked. It was the last thing he’d have expected.

Weiss snorted his opinion of that. “We’re vampires, and this is a competition, not a support group.”

Anthony dipped his head in agreement. “I’m not proposing anything. I’m simply doing my duty as Lord of the South to facilitate the challenge and ensure the best result.”

Christian managed not to roll his eyes in disgust. What a waste of time. He needed to move this meeting along, and get back to Natalie. “Do you have any specific knowledge of Hubert’s whereabouts? After all, it’s no news to any of us that Hubert has designs on this territory.”

Anthony’s mouth pinched in irritation. “Not everyone is privy to the plottings of our European cousins,” he said pointedly. “Perhaps
you
have information to share?”

Christian’s mouth turned up in a bare smile. “I know this much. When Hubert comes, he’ll come in force, with an army at his back. If you hope to hold the territory against him, we would do better to coordinate our efforts.”

Scoville seemed to nod his agreement, and opened his mouth to say something, but a sharp glare from Anthony stifled whatever it was.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Anthony sneered. “And I will, of course, continue to share whatever intel I receive. Are there any questions?”

Christian couldn’t imagine what questions there could possibly be since nothing new had been discovered. It made him wonder again what the true purpose of the meeting had been. He stood to leave, but Anthony detained him with a raised hand.

“Stay a moment, Duvall,” he said, making it sound more like an order than a request.

Christian considered telling him to shove it up his ass, but it occurred to him that Anthony’s motive in inviting him to this meeting might finally be revealed. He gestured for Marc to go with the others, then lingered until Scoville, who was the last to leave, closed the door behind him.

“I don’t like you,” Anthony said plainly, taking a stance behind his desk with both hands on his hips.

Christian tilted his head sideways dismissively. Was he supposed to care whether Anthony liked him or not?

“You’re bad for the South, and bad for the continent.”

Christian kept his gaze on Anthony and waited.

“As Lord of the South, I’m asking you to leave my territory.”

Christian almost laughed out loud. Really? Did he think that would work? “Regrettably, Anthony—” he said, intentionally omitting the lord’s title, “—you surrendered that authority when you announced your resignation. Once the challenge was live, you granted territorial access to any and all challengers, until it’s resolved.”

“The challenge isn’t live yet,” Anthony snarled. “Not until this weekend.”

“I beg to differ,” Christian replied, noting the obvious signs of Anthony’s growing rage. “You unofficially opened the challenge when you sent poor Noriega out to ambush me. Tell me,” he continued, taking a step closer to the angry lord. “Did you honestly believe he could defeat me? Are you that blind? Or was he only a sacrifice to rally the troops? To gain support for whichever one of your children you
really
want to succeed you?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Anthony snapped. “That was Noriega’s decision, I didn’t—”

Christian tilted his head in sudden understanding. “It’s not Scoville either, is it? He’s the only one of your children left in the open competition, but he’s merely the next stalking horse. So who is it, Anthony? And how do you expect him to triumph, if he’s too weak to even compete openly?”

“Get out of my office, you foreign guttersnipe. We’ll see who triumphs, and who doesn’t,” he growled.

Christian would have dismissed his words as empty posturing, but there was a gleam in the old vampire’s eye, a hint of victory in the sneer he aimed Christian’s way. It gave him a very bad feeling, and when he examined the source of that badness, he could find only one cause.

Natalie.

He turned and walked out of the office without another word, gathering Marc on his way. He waited until he was out in the hallway, then pulled up his cell phone and called Natalie’s number.

“Straight to voicemail,” he said tightly, heading for the stairs and Jaclyn’s office. Marc followed, his own cell phone in hand.

“Cibor’s not answering either,” he said, and Christian had to force himself not to race to Jaclyn’s office, not to give Anthony that satisfaction. But the four vampires who tried to block his path were another matter entirely.

Christian slowed to a stop. He didn’t recognize any of them, until a fifth vampire pushed his way to the front.

“Wait,” Christian ordered Marc quietly, then acknowledged the fifth vampire. “Scoville,” he said. “I really don’t have time for this.”

Scoville didn’t say anything, just placed himself at the head of the group, taking a position a step removed from the others to make it clear that he stood on his own.

“Are you tonight’s sacrifice then?” Christian asked him. He was outwardly calm, but inside, he was raging at this delay. It had to be more of Anthony’s scheming, except that Christian couldn’t believe he had managed to subdue Cibor, much less Jaclyn. He couldn’t believe Anthony would even have had the balls to try, given that Jaclyn and all of her people belonged to Raphael.

He forced these thoughts aside. Right now, it didn’t matter what was happening in Jaclyn’s office. What mattered was the vampire in front of him who didn’t have a hope in hell of defeating Christian. That was, unless Christian permitted himself to be so distracted that he got in a lucky hit. And that wouldn’t do Natalie any good either.

“Sacrifice?” Scoville repeated, with a puzzled frown.

Christian shrugged. “Noriega was the first. Anthony sent him against me knowing he’d die. Tonight, it’s you.”

“Lord Anthony didn’t send Noriega anywhere; you murdered him.”

Christian shook his head impatiently. “You know better than that. Or you should.” He released a fraction of his true power, enough for the other vampire to get a good taste of him. “Why would I waste my time challenging someone like Noriega?” he asked.

Scoville’s eyes widened briefly, an automatic response that was beyond his control.

“Noriega had no business entering the challenge,” Christian continued. “You knew him. You know I’m right.”

“Noriega was smart, and he had friends. He wouldn’t have faced you alone.”

“He didn’t. But none of them had the power to back him up, either. He was out of his league.”

“Lord Anthony—”

“Anthony wound him up and sent him out to fight me,” Christian snapped. It was time to end this. “Don’t you wonder why? Don’t you think you should
know
that, before you become the latest dead pawn in his game?”

Scoville frowned, doubt written on his face. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because someday soon I will rule this territory, and I will
not
throw vampire lives away for nothing.”

The other vampire stared at him, clearly wavering, but not yet willing to go against his Sire’s wishes.

“I’ll kill you,” Christian warned him. “Not even these others will be enough to stop me. So, ask yourself . . . who will benefit from your death? Anthony obviously wants one of his own to succeed him. But who is it? Not you. You’ll be dead.”

Christian saw the unwelcome knowledge hit Scoville’s expression, followed quickly by betrayal, and then anger. He scowled at Christian, blaming the messenger. But in the end, he was smarter than Noriega. “Damn you,” Scoville whispered sharply. Then he spun on his heel, ordering his backers to follow with a jerk of his chin.

Christian didn’t waste any time watching them leave. With a silent command to Marc, he ran the final distance to Jaclyn’s office, shoved open the door, and stared around frantically. The phone was ringing in an empty office. Where the hell was everyone?

He ran to the conference room where Natalie should have been sitting, but it was empty.


À la fin,”
he muttered.
Enough!
He gathered his powers, closed his eyes, and concentrated, scanning every room, searching for . . . anyone. There had to be someone left here, someone who knew what the fuck was going on.

“Christian,” Marc said, but Christian shushed him with a hand gesture, then opened his eyes and started forward.

“Two vampires, corner office,” he said and strode down the hall. The office belonged to Jaclyn, and the image he’d gotten had been strong enough that he knew she was there.

Christian reached the closed door of Jaclyn’s office and shoved it open, not bothering to knock. She was inside, and she wasn’t happy. She raced over from where she’d been sitting with Cibor, fangs bared, hands curled into claws, ready to defend her bodyguard who sat on the couch, eyes closed, head back against the cushions.

Christian stepped back, hands raised in a placating gesture. “Jaclyn,” he said quietly. “It’s Christian Duvall.”

She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes gleaming a gold-tinged red, a low growl rumbling in her chest, as she clenched and unclenched her fists in rhythm. And then like a light switching off, her fangs retracted, reason returned to her eyes, and she drew herself up to suck in a deep breath.

“Christian.” She sounded far more exhausted than she should have. Jaclyn had significant power.

“What the hell happened?” He forced himself to be quiet and calm, when what he wanted was to shake the truth out of her. “Where’s Natalie?” he asked, voicing his deepest concern.

“Anthony,” she said, the growl returning to her voice. “He
dared . . .
” She drew a deep breath, making a visible effort to think rationally and answer his question. “He planted a compulsion in Cibor’s head, in order to get time alone with Natalie.”

“He has Natalie?” Christian experienced an emotion that was nearly foreign to him. Genuine fear.

Jaclyn shook her head, seeming confused. “She left,” she said slowly, as if forcing her brain to recall what she’d seen. “I was with Cibor, but . . . I remember her saying she was sorry, and then gathering her things.” She looked up at Christian. “Sorry for what?”

“I’m going to find out. Did you call Raphael?”


He
called
me
. He’s already on his way here for the challenge, and says he’ll deal with it when he gets here.”

“He’ll have to stand in line.” Christian spun away, but Jaclyn’s voice stopped him.

“Raphael wants Anthony for this, Christian. If he’s done something to Natalie, you can’t kill him.”

Christian turned and met Jaclyn’s worried gaze. “If he’s done something,” he repeated, but he couldn’t finish the thought. He respected the hell out of Raphael, but if Anthony had so much as
touched
Natalie, he’d be dead before morning. “Tell Raphael I’ll try to leave Anthony alive for him. But no guarantees.”

She nodded. “She’s blaming herself for all of this, Christian. She needs to understand it wasn’t her fault.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure of that,” he said grimly. “I’ll make sure she understands a lot of things.”

NATALIE PUT THE last of her dinner dishes into the dishwasher, and closed the door. She didn’t know why she’d bothered to fix anything. Her stomach was so knotted, she hadn’t been able to eat. And she doubted it was going to get any better. She’d tried to distract herself with work, but her mind kept blinking over to the coming confrontation with Anthony. Their
date.
He hadn’t said where they were going, or what this
perfect place
of his was, but she didn’t think she’d be able to swallow more than a cup of tea, or a glass of wine. Or maybe she’d just throw up in his face, and they’d call the whole thing off. The way she was feeling now, projectile vomiting was definitely a possibility.

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