I, on the other hand, began to unbutton my jeans. The moment he saw this, he spun around and faced the balcony doors. Before I could mention how ridiculous his prudence was, he held up his hand, motioning me to listen.
“
You may disagree all you want but, as a gentleman who has seen you naked just once, I am compelled to preserve your chastity.”
“
Uh huh…until you take it from me again,” I pointed out.
“
I didn’t say virginity, Magdalene,” he corrected. “I’ve already taken that.”
The mere mention of our wedding night together made my cheeks burn as the memory of it coursed through my mind. As it turned out, I wasn’t the only one affected by the remembrance of it.
While dressing, my eyes stayed on Eran, whose hands clenched against the surge of emotion running through him. He breathed through his nose, too, in an effort to release the pent up aggravation of not having been able to enjoy me in the same way since then.
I couldn’t imagine what it took for a man to live over a century without having been given another night with his wife but it certainly said a great deal about his patience and persistence.
I cleared my throat, more to get his attention than to remove an obstruction. “Granted this isn’t the best time to ask but I’ve wondered why it is you’ve never…we’ve never been together again?”
His back straightened and I got the distinct impression I’d offended him.
Tightly, he replied, “You’re correct. This isn’t the best time to ask.”
“
I’m sorry for bringing it up. I didn’t mean to…”
He relaxed a little before replying, “I’m not insulted, Magdalene. I’m…frustrated.”
Although I wondered what he meant, I didn’t bother asking. He’d already mentioned this wasn’t a good time to open up the conversation. But, I made a mental note to ask him about it later tonight and then finished dressing in silence. Once I’d attached the last weapon to my suit, I announced, “I’m ready.”
Without turning, he strode towards the balcony doors and pushed them open. On the way, he collected his sword from the corner of my room, where he typically left it tilted against the wall, easily available in case it was needed.
I stepped up beside him and prepared to take flight. It was early spring which meant shortened days. This was good as it gave us the cover of darkness.
“
You’re certain you want to do this?” he asked, refusing to look at me, and instead surveying the street below to ensure it was vacant. It was a reasonable thing to do but his behavior told me something else. I got the sense my question had done more damage than I’d realized and I made a mental note that this was a sensitive subject for Eran.
“
Yes, I’m ready.”
“
François Gerard will be well guarded. As a diplomat, he’ll have a full security detail. We’ll need to perform surveillance prior to entry.”
“
I understand.”
He didn’t respond immediately and yet he didn’t move to leave the balcony. A few long seconds passed before he announced with strain in his voice, “I’ll explain tonight…once our mission is over…why we’ve been together only once.”
Then he stepped forward, leapt up on to the balcony railing, and sprang into the air.
I shook the uncomfortable feeling left behind from our conversation and then followed him up and through the night sky.
Our flight was quick. The brisk pumping of Eran’s appendages for the beginning leg of it told me that emotions conjured by my question lingered with him. Only towards the end did his flight become more paced, steady.
Eran, being the better navigator of the two of us, led the way to François Gerard’s residence, a brownstone in the heart of downtown Washington, DC. As he’d warned, there was a car parked outside the front door and armed men stood just inside.
Eran motioned towards the rooftop and I followed him there, settling down beside him.
“
You go through the door,” he said pointing towards the one designed for roof access. “By the time you find Gerard, I’ll be at your side.”
“
What are you going to do?”
“
I’m going to take care of the guards. Now go,” he commanded just before springing into the air.
I opened the door and found a narrow chute, which I descended quickly. Opening the interior door, I found the hall lights to be on and orchestral music playing faintly from behind a closed door at the end of the hall.
My radar was already telling me that François was nearby and as I approached the music it grew more declarative. My senses were already acting up, picking up tobacco and expensive cologne. The swoosh of soft fabric told me that he had made a brief shift but hadn’t actually moved from his spot. I knew this by the sound decibel and I knew by the angle of it that he must be across the room from the door.
True to his word, by the time I was standing at the door leading to François Gerard, Eran was at my side.
“
All clear,” he motioned.
I nodded and then kicked in the door.
Inside, François stood at the window, a pipe in his mouth, a silk robe draped over his slender body. It appeared he had been waiting for us and I got the impression he’d just watched with mild amusement Eran derail his security entourage.
“
Humans…” he stated with repulsion. “Useless…”
His accent, interestingly, was undefined and I judged this to be because he had been a world traveler for the last four hundred years. It made him perfectly suited to become a diplomat.
“
Have you noticed how they chew?” His lip curled up in disgust. “Without class…spitting…slavering…”
I stood before a man who had worked for kings, barons, presidents and who had been given the opportunity to forge alliances between competing nations. He had instead concocted reasons for conflict and it was easy to see how he could do so without questions of morality.
“
Maybe if you had spent your time helping them-” I began but he didn’t allow me the chance to finish.
“
There is no helping them. They are extinct,” he said with brazen hinting. He turned to face Eran and me then, one hand on his pipe, the other tucked through the silk belt around his waist which kept his robe closed. “That is what you fail to see, Maggie. You are defending an extinct race. They are the English Wolf, the Dodo bird, the Caspian Tiger…though far easier to kill. I know as I personally slaughtered the last one of its kind. Just as these creatures had their time, the humans have had theirs. And yet you fight so tenaciously to defend them. My dear Maggie…why?”
“
So you know who I am…” I stated, ignoring his question.
He smiled sympathetically as one does with a child. “I know everything about you. I take special notice of my enemies, paying good money to be kept informed. You did an impressive job throughout Nevada, Arizona, ridding it of my cohorts.” He smiled at me then, the pipe still protruding from his mouth. “Claden Markett, I thought, might get the best of you though.” He waited for me to admit the truth and then openly acknowledged it himself. “It was good that your guardian was there to assist…”
“
Don’t underestimate her abilities, Gerard,” Eran said, coming to my defense.
“
Or do,” I said, playfully suggesting he let his guard down. All of us knew it wouldn’t happen.
He smiled at Eran and me. “I’ve heard you have…shall we say…a unique relationship. A guardian and ward who argue as much as the two of you should possibly be separated? Yet you’ve remained together…” His eyes took on a knowing gleam. “It makes me curious…”
“
Feel free to speculate,” I muttered, my attention was now focused on the hand looped around his robe’s belt. It appeared to be flexing, preparing for movement.
I wondered if Eran saw it too.
“
There’s no need for it,” said François. “I have a full account of your clandestine love affair. While I’ve kept that account to myself, it has kept me pleasantly entertained on many evenings.”
Eran stepped forward, fury radiating from him, prepared to defend my honor. But he stopped himself, which I knew was the result of his promise to allow me the victory of the kill.
“
You couldn’t have believed it would remain a secret forever…” François suggested, emboldened by Eran’s halt. Then he must have seen something – a flinch, a blink, the whiff of an uncertain expression – because he added, “You did…foolish lovers. It is no wonder you relate so well to humans. You
think
like them.”
François casually took a slight puff from his pipe and then changed the subject to something far more concerning. “In fact, your love for each other is the very reason why I’ve made preparations. I’ve known that it would only be a matter of time before you reached me on your list…your book of dossiers.”
Despite my best efforts, I recoiled. François did keep himself well informed.
“
So I’ve informed your kind, the Alterums, of your efforts to annihilate my kind.” He paused and stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. “I believe they understood the consequences of my message.”
Eran, clearly sensing the danger hidden in François’s discourse, stepped forward then. “Stop speaking in circles, Gerard. Explain yourself.”
François scoffed, offended by Eran’s tone, but he answered nonetheless. “I’ve informed the Alterums of the dangers in allowing your lover’s hunting to continue. Having delivered the message personally, I can reassure you that it was taken seriously.”
Eran glanced at me, though I couldn’t be sure why. I refused to move my focus from the hand, still flexed and waiting, at François waist.
“
Since then,” he went on, “I’ve been waiting for your arrival. Although I have to admit, Eran, I’m slightly disappointed. I believed you would know me well enough to bring your army instead of your lover. This battle will be won far too easily.”
The hand at François’s waist suddenly flew aside, releasing his robe, and exposing a cache of weapons. Taking a saber and a sword from their sheaths, François strode across the room but never completed his advance. Midway across, his appendages appeared from beneath his robe, lifting him into the air and flapping so aggressively they sliced the silk robe to shreds.
François hung in the air, chest barren, arms extended, weapons readied, a hideous grin stretching across his face.
“
Thank you…for allowing me the honor of killing you,” he stated with genuine sincerity.
Eran and I were airborne immediately, our own weapons ready. By that point it was too late. The trap had been sprung and we entered it easily.
At the very moment we reached a certain height, blades flew from opposing sides of the room, slicing through the air and catching both Eran and myself.
It was all the distraction François needed. He was suddenly on top of me, slamming me against the door I’d just entered. His saber was at my neck just as quickly, the cold steel coming to rest against my skin.
It didn’t stay there long. He was thrown backwards as Eran took hold of François’s body and hurled him at the window he’d just been peering through.
It cracked against his weight, remaining intact enough for him to launch from it and back towards Eran.
Another trigger was released, sliding aside hidden compartments in the ceiling, and blades dropped from above, daggers ready to impale any of us who came too close. One nearly nicked Eran but he caught their movement in time and shifted from its path.
François still had his arrogant grin when he reached Eran. As they collided, spinning backwards, head over heels, I came up from behind, enraged and ready to end that grin.
Eran, facing me, sent me a signal, a slight lift of his chin towards the ceiling where the daggers gleamed. I caught his motion and prepared myself.
Suddenly, Eran’s hips rotated, swinging his leg out and across François’s, causing him to tumble upwards. Picking up the momentum, I grabbed François’s shoulders and shoved him upward impaling him on the daggers designed to protect him.
He hung there, steel points protruding from various places throughout his body, blood sliding down the points and dripping on the hardwood floors. His head hung limply towards the ground, eyes closed, breathing raspy.
“
Well done…” he exhaled. The last of his breath released just as his appendages slipped back inside his body.
Eran, drew in a deep breath and turned to me with pride. “He was correct…Well done.”
“
Thanks for the assistance,” I said, turning back to François. “But I’m not looking forward to the clean up…”
A drip of blood landed on the floor, splattering into the growing pool.
“
Better than having to deal with an international investigation,” Eran commented, already moving in to peel François’s body from the ceiling.
After the room was put back in order, Eran approached the window that François had been peering from when we’d arrived and the same one his body had slammed against during the fight, leaving a halo of cracks around the center. Without hesitation, Eran broke the glass entirely, allowing varying slivers of it to fall to the ground outside François’s townhouse. Eran then took François’s body and soared out the window to the spiked fence lining the property below. He then impaled François on to it directly below the window.
His solution was simple, almost elegant: The authorities would deduce his guards were delinquent in their duties while François had committed suicide.