Charmed (13 page)

Chloe looked at the other woman warily. Although she wasn’t one to back down from a fight, she knew she was too weak to fight her, especially considering her adversary was a vampire as well and a scorned one to boot.

Clearing her throat, she decided to play dumb. “Did Tristan refer you to me?”

The woman threw back her head and laughed, a throaty sensual sound.

“Did you hear that, Ashei? She thinks that Tristan has referred me.” As if on command, the woman’s companion laughed as well.

“Ms. Patel, please cut to the chase. I have no time for games. I have a plane to catch in an hour and a half.”

“Have a care who you’re talking to!” The woman came out of her seat and slammed her hand against the top of Chloe’s desk, causing it to groan. “I am over six hundred years old! I have eaten women like you for lunch!”

“I don’t care if you’re as old as Methuselah himself,” Chloe replied tightly. “You are not going to come into my office and threaten me.” She pushed back her chair and stood up. “I will see you both out now.”

She rounded her desk and crossed to the door. But her companion didn’t allow her to pass. “Could you call off your goon—” She was unable to finish her sentence as she was suddenly seized from behind, the man taking both of her arms in his meaty hands.

“Be careful, Ashei. We need to keep her in one piece…for now.”

Yasmine walked across the office, closing the short distance between them, and stood directly in front of her. She looked Chloe up and down with derision. “I can’t believe Tristan had to resort to using his powers to woo such a dull bird as yourself,” she mocked. “Why, you’re not even passably pretty and your ass is fat. I practically had that man eating out of the palm of my hand at one time. It mystifies me how something like
you
should replace
me
. How bloody ridiculous.”

It was lucky for Yasmine that her henchman had a tight hold on Chloe or she would have given her a fat lip. But he didn’t have control of her most potent weapon—her tongue.

Chloe charged. “Well, Tristan loves my fat ass and every other roll on my body. It must hurt to know that such an ugly thing like me was able to attract and hold his attention to the point of making me his mate and it was
you
he found lacking and kicked to the curb.”

Chloe knew her tongue could cut people to the quick but she wasn’t prepared for the anger it elicited in the other woman. Catching her off-guard, Yasmine pulled her hand back and slapped Chloe across her cheek, snapping her head to the side.

Ignoring Chloe’s groan of pain, Yasmine then grabbed Chloe’s chin and snatched her head back. “Look, bitch, you’re lucky that Simon only wants me to hold you as a pawn. Or I would make your death slow and painful.”

“Did you say Simon?” Chloe asked. “You’re talking about Tristan’s brother, right? He’s behind you and your goon coming into my office and not Tristan jilting you all those years ago?”

Now she was totally confused! Why would Simon be behind all of this? Especially since he felt it was his duty to make Tristan come clean that night at Sir Raleigh’s.

“Yes,” Yasmine replied rather tightly. “Sibling rivalry has existed between these two for centuries. More so on Simon’s part than Tristan’s. The poor boy has this silly notion that Tristan has impeded his chances of ever becoming anything but his brother’s shadow.”

“But what do I have to do with this?”

“Why, you’re leverage, pigeon. Simon is using you as leverage in this little game of intrigue he’s cooked up, so that Tristan will have to choose between you or his leadership of the Warwick coven. And with my pledged allegiance as the leader of the Cushmarins, Simon and I will form the most powerful vampire nation our kind has ever known.”

“Look, sister. I hate to spoil your well-laid plans, as good as they may seem. But do you actually think you’ll be able to stop Tristan from coming after both of you and exacting his revenge? You and I both know Tristan isn’t some pushover who is going to let your and Simon’s betrayal slide.”

“That is true but, by then, Simon will have the allegiance and protection of over half a million vampires. Tristan wouldn’t be able to touch us if he tried. Come, Ashei. I’m beginning to feel like an old Saturday morning cartoon, by divulging our entire bloody plan. We need to get her out of here and underground before Tristan discovers that she’s missing.”

Yasmine’s henchman pulled Chloe along behind them as they left the office. As they headed toward the elevator, Chloe tried one last time to talk some sense to her abductors. “You’re not going to be able to get away with this. Tristan will find me and all hell is going to break loose.”

“Well, pigeon, you better pray that Tristan chooses you or he may never see you again,” Yasmine replied confidently. “For what good is leverage when it’s no longer needed?”

* * * * *

“So what is so important, gentlemen, that you’ve called this special session?” Tristan asked, walking into the great hall. “This must be very important or you wouldn’t have called me away from my business and halfway around the world.”

He stopped in front of the council bench and placed his hands on the table. He hated dealing with these pompous windbags. They took their positions as his advisors way too seriously, especially since he hardly, if ever, consulted them before making a decision regarding the coven. Therefore he had very few friends, if any, on the eight-man body.

Councilman Horatio Fullard, the oldest of the eight in attendance, addressed him first. Having been born a vampire and not made, he was the most pompous of them all. “This special meeting of the council has been called together on account of a violation of the moral code.”

“A violation of the moral code, you say?” Tristan asked, his blood turning cold. “What issue, pray tell, has been brought to your attention? Anything I do in my personal life is just that—personal.”

“Yes, we understand that, Tristan,” Morgan Twist piped in, his jowls wobbling as he spoke. “But when it involves a human then it is no longer personal. Our balance with humans is tenuous at best but when our leader takes it upon himself to abuse his powers, thus breaking one of our moral codes, we feel that we must step in and make a correction.”

“The council feels that you have set a bad example and that you are not fit to govern. Therefore we are opening the floor to a possible replacement,” Horatio continued.

“You can’t be serious!” Tristan roared, his fist slamming into the council bench table with such force that the sound of cracking wood reverberated through the great hall. “You are taking this too far. I know there is no love lost between us but you have no right to say that my momentary lack of judgment has any bearing on my right to govern as head of Warwick coven.”

“No love lost…indeed. However, the issue still stands. We have decided to open up the floor for a possible replacement,” Horatio replied in a crisp tone. “Prepare yourself. The challenge will begin tomorrow night.”

* * * * *

“So how did it go, Finneus? She didn’t tear into you, did she?”

Tristan glanced over at his solicitor Mr. Winthrop before lunging at his sparring partner, sending the man on the defensive.

“No, Tristan,” Mr. Winthrop sighed. He removed a white linen handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the rain from his face. As usual, the weather in London was miserable. Although the heat in Las Vegas had been unbearable, it had been a delightful change to this nonstop rain. “I have unfortunate news. Your wife never got off the plane.”

Tristan dropped his sword arm and swung around to look at Winthrop. “What do you mean she never got off the plane?”

“Well, actually, Tristan, I stand corrected. According to the plane’s flight log, she never boarded the plane in Atlanta.” Winthrop watched as his employer’s hand tightened around his foil until his knuckles grew white.

“She’s a bloody piece of work, that one! What kind of a game is she playing now?” Tristan growled, throwing off his mask and angrily sending it tumbling into the far corner of the practice room. He allowed Colin to take his foil before he’d throw that away in a fit of rage as well.

“This just doesn’t make any sense! When I left Atlanta several days ago, everything was okay between us. How could she have changed her mind so quickly?” Tristan yanked his gloves off and tossed them on a nearby bench.

“Tristan, if I may be so bold as to suggest, you should call your wife before jumping to conclusions. Maybe she has a very good excuse,” Winthrop replied in a crisp tone. “Then you could save yourself some heartache and aggravation.”

“I pay you to be my solicitor, Finneus, not my therapist.”

“I know very well what my position is, Tristan. I was only suggesting you call before jumping to conclusions or flying into one of your frequent rages.”

Tristan looked at his solicitor sharply. If the man had not worked for him for the past forty or so odd years and his father before him, he would have upbraided him. Instead he sighed heavily as he sat down on the bench. He bowed his head and rubbed his hand along the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry, Finneus. I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately due to this bloody challenge. And now this.”

“Perfectly understandable, Tristan. If there is nothing else, I would like to excuse myself. I came right here once my plane landed. And I have not had the opportunity to freshen up.”

“You may go, Finneus. I have no further need of your services today. If I need you, I’ll call.”

Tristan sat quietly on the bench while Colin, his personal pilot and occasional sparring partner, put their fencing equipment away. Once Colin was done, he walked over to the bench and sat down next to Tristan. Colin reached in his pants pocket and withdrew a small cell phone.

“Do you want to use my phone, sir?” Tristan looked at the phone resting in Colin’s palm.

“Colin, it seems like my pride has fallen with my fortunes.”

“Yes indeed, sir, it looks like it has but your fortunes can be regained if you would lay aside said pride.”

Tristan sighed heavily then took the cell phone from him.

“I’ll be outside if you need me.” Colin got up from the bench and left him alone in the room to call his wife.

Tristan got up from the bench as well. He crossed the wide expanse of the workout room to look out of the row of windows located on the far side of the room. The lonely click of his heels over the wooden floor his only company. He leaned against the windowpane and looked out over the night sky. He could almost see the top of the London Eye over the roofs of the other row houses. After several drawn-out moments, it finally hit him why he hesitated to call his wife.

He, Tristan Smythe, the leader of one of the most powerful vampire covens in the world, who’d led a successful civil war against the Hessian werewolves in 1608 and suppressed an attempted coup by the Radamakian coven in 1789 was actually scared to death of calling his own wife.

But his wife wasn’t a legion of mongrel werewolves, who when combined only had one operative brain amongst them, or a fractured group of rogue vampires led by a madman. She was the first woman who had ever held his heart and unfortunately the first one who would probably break it.

Tristan flipped open Colin’s phone and before he lost his resolve, he quickly punched in the numbers to Chloe’s cell phone. After several rings no one answered. He then tried her office number.

“Hello, Walker Realty,”
pop
, “where anyone can acquire the American dream,”
pop
, “Monique speaking.”

“Yes, may I speak to Mrs. Chloe Smythe?”

“Sorry, sir, but she’s on vacation.”
Pop
. “She won’t be back in the office until next week.” Tristan almost crushed the tiny phone in his hand. If Chloe hadn’t boarded the flight to Las Vegas then where the hell was she and with whom?

“Monique, this is Tristan, Chloe’s husband. The reason why I’m calling is because Chloe never made her flight.”

“What do you mean she never made her flight? She was packed and ready to go. In fact she worked hard all day so she could leave early. That’s why she was sort of put out when a couple of potential clients showed up unexpectedly, specifically requesting her services.”

“Do you think you could remember the names of these last-minute visitors? Or what they looked like. Maybe they could provide some clues to Chloe’s whereabouts.” Also, if they were the cause of his wife’s disappearance it would make it easier for him to hunt them down and shred them to pieces.

“I’m not very good with names but I definitely remember what the woman looked like. She was hot! She was Indian, not American Indian but from India. She was slim and had straight black hair, which hung past her waist, almost to her knees in fact. And she was with this big, muscular guy who looked like a professional wrestler.”

Tristan gripped the phone so tightly it smashed into several pieces. He threw down what was left of it and stalked to the door. Yasmine might be his equal, being the leader of the Cushmarin coven, but she would pay for this. Of course he couldn’t necessarily kill her without causing an all-out civil war, for the Cushmarins equaled the Warwicks in number. But there was nothing in the laws that said she couldn’t sport a deformity for the rest of her immortal life.

Firm in his resolve, Tristan had his hand on the door and was about to call for Colin when it suddenly opened outward. Simus McDonald, an envoy from the council, stood on the other side. He was accompanied by several armed guards.

“We’ve come to escort you to the challenge, sir.”

“I can’t go through with the challenge, Simus. Go back and tell the council that my wife’s been kidnapped and that I’m going to find her.”

Instead of doing his bidding, the other man stood his ground. “Sorry, Tristan, you know the protocol.”

“Fuck protocol! How can I concentrate on something so trivial when my wife might be in danger?” Tristan roared. He attempted to step around Simus but the guards accompanying him blocked his path.

“You are required to attend the challenge, Tristan. You can either walk down to the great hall on your own two feet or the guards will carry you.”