Nightbred(38)

“I need to finish up a couple of things,” Chris said after they arrived at the club. “Meet you in the suite in thirty minutes?”

Jamys nodded. As soon as she had gone, he went to the suzerain’s office, where he found Lucan in conversation with his tresora.

“When she asks, my lord—”

“You will lie to her, Herbert. Or, if you find yourself incapable of such a heinous act, you will feign ignorance of my activities.” After Lucan inserted a clip into a semiautomatic pistol, he said to Jamys, “My apologies, Durand. I have an urgent appointment to keep.”

The scent of night-blooming jasmine hung heavily in the air, but so did another odor. Jamys couldn’t identify it as he breathed it in, but he felt it crackling like icy fire in his lungs, and exhaled quickly.

“At least take your guards, my lord,” Burke said to Lucan, his tone almost pleading.

The suzerain eyed his tresora. “The bitch that whelped me has been dead for well on seven centuries, Herbert. I do not require a new mother.”

Jamys offered a polite bow. “May I join you, Suzerain?”

“Nor do I need a boy to trot after me.” He tucked the gun inside his jacket. “Burke, look after Jamys until Christian reports for duty, will you?”

Jamys got between Lucan and the door and, when the big man approached him, looked up into his eyes. The ghost gray irises had expanded, reducing his pupils to thin black slivers; a direct indication of the extent of his agitation. Lucan reached to adjust the medallion hanging from the thick gold chain around his neck, running his thumb over the cross in the center of it.

“Excuse me.” Lucan strode around him.

The tresora almost followed the big man out before he paused at the threshold and stepped back.

“No good will come of this,” Burke muttered to himself before he turned to Jamys. “Forgive me, my lord. The suzerain meant no insult; he is . . . in one of his moods. Would you care to take a tour of the underground levels? I don’t believe they had been finished during your previous visit.”

Jamys nodded at the door. “Where has Lucan gone?”

Burke looked uncomfortable. “The suzerain prefers that I keep his business concerns confidential.”

Jamys reached out and removed Burke’s spectacles, and showed him the crack bisecting one lens. “Bad business, I think.”

“So do I.” The tresora grimaced as he took the glasses and pocketed them, and then went and closed the door. “My lord, my oath to Lord Alenfar prevents me from voluntarily giving you the information you desire. I am also immune to l’attrait.” His expression grew hopeful. “However, were you to use your gift to compel me . . .”

Jamys nodded, and rested his hand against Burke’s neck. You wish to tell me where Lucan is going, and why.

“The master has learned that a casino owner named Dutch sent roses to the lady Samantha’s workplace,” Burke said, his voice taking on a dreamy quality.

The door behind them opened and closed, and Chris joined them. “What are you doing?”

“Wait.” Jamys nodded to Burke.

“My lord then intercepted a texted invitation from this man for Lady Samantha to meet him tonight at an abandoned dockside bar called ‘the Turtle’s Nest.’” The tresora sighed. “He destroyed her mobile and told her nothing. He goes there now to confront Dutch and, I fear, kill him.”

“Jesus Christ.” Chris went to the desk. “I’ll call up to Samantha.”

“No.” Jamys released Burke to put his hand over Chris’s on the receiver. “I will go and stop him.”

“Stop him?” Chris chuffed out some air. “I’m sorry, but you can’t.”

Did she think he was helpless, like his father? “It is what a warrior does.”

“It’s what a crazy person does,” Chris corrected. “There are two things on the planet that make Lucan go postal. Brethren, and anyone trying to hurt Samantha. I’m not kidding,” she added. “You know the guy who shot her? Lucan touched him with one hand and he exploded. Literally. They had to mop him off the walls.”

Jamys put his hands on Chris’s shoulders. There is something wrong about this, Christian. Lucan insisted on going alone. There was a strangeness to his scent.

Chris bit her bottom lip. “One of the girls up front told me that last night he went to the lists and got into a sword match. Beat the crap out of the guy, too. He never does things like that.”

He saw the panic in her eyes. What are you thinking?

“Whatever is going on here, it’s not about Sam, or he’d be going after her, the way Dwyer did. This guy wants something else.” She took in a quick breath. “I think Lucan could be walking into a trap.”