Midnight's Kiss (Elder Races #8)(3)

“Very good,” Yolanthe said. Unlike Gavin, she sounded calm to the point of sleepy. “And the other thing?”

“I want a strike team to meet me here in the city,” he told her. “Keep it lean and mean, no more than ten fighters. Get them here as soon as you can.”

That woke her up. Sounding very alert, she said, “We’ll grab a chopper and be with you in twenty minutes.”

“Good enough.”

Twenty minutes. Thinking quickly, Julian did some math.

It had taken him fifteen minutes to navigate through city traffic to get to the house from the alley where Xavier had almost died. Before that, Julian had spent some time on the scene, waiting to hear if Xavier would survive and questioning various officials who had been first responders. And it had also taken him time to get to San Francisco from Marin County.

How long ago had he kicked Justine out of Evenfall?

Even though the Nightkind political season was over for the year, Justine had been insisting upon reconvening the council. She had claimed that Xavier had exceeded his authority when he had made this year’s trade agreements with the Light Fae heir Melisande.

As always when Julian’s thoughts turned to Melly, a hard knot of old pain and anger tightened in his chest.

She had once meant the world to him, and the affair they had begun so lightly in defiance of all convention had quickly turned into something much more serious. The kind of serious where a man started thinking of ways to change his life in order to be with the woman he cared about.

At least it had for him. Clearly it hadn’t for her, or she would never have betrayed him with the Elven heir Ferion.

The whole thing had happened decades ago, in the 1990s, and time wasn’t the only thing that had moved on. Melly and Ferion’s affair hadn’t lasted either. Just recently, Ferion had become the Elven lord of his demesne, while Melly still lived the carefree life of a rich, jet-setting single.

Virtually everyone had gotten on with their lives, except for him. Some part of him still remained frozen in that terrible moment of realization when he had stared at the photos of Melly and Ferion together.

Now, every time he saw her photo online or in the papers, he snarled and snapped like a wounded tiger at anyone who had the misfortune to be in the vicinity. He couldn’t even summon a pretense of indifference. Whenever he was forced to be in the same room as Melly, any attempt at conversation quickly devolved into a shouting match.

Their troubled dynamic made it even more difficult to understand why Melly’s mother, Tatiana, had sent Melly to conduct this year’s trade negotiations with the Nightkind – unless Xavier was right, and Justine had been behind that ploy too. Julian and Melly had flamed out as usual, and none of the trade agreements had been approved until Xavier had stepped in and talked to Melly personally.

When Justine had tried to claim the agreements weren’t valid, Xavier had outmaneuvered her once again by recording Julian and Melly in verbal agreement with each other. Julian had confronted Justine with the recording, and she had left Evenfall just after sunset.

Now Julian reexamined things in a different light.

With the Nightkind political season over, the council had already met and disbanded for the year. Had Justine been looking for an excuse to get the council together one more time?

If they had reconvened upon her insistence, and the assassination attempt against Xavier had been successful, what would have been her next move – an assassination attempt against Julian?

And who would have made it with her?

Julian had a sense of time trickling away from him. The more time that passed, the more time Justine had to figure out her next moves. Even as she had left Evenfall hours ago, she would have been thinking ahead and rerouting any plans she had laid in place.

By now she had to know the attempt against Xavier’s life had failed, so she would be rerouting again.

I have questions for you, Justine, he thought savagely. Many questions.

What are you doing now?

Upstairs in his suite, he washed and changed quickly, donning black fatigues, boots, and a T-shirt. When he was finished, he jogged downstairs and called for Gregoire, who appeared again almost immediately.

He told the human, “I’m here for only a short while, and I don’t know when I’ll be back in the city. Evenfall is on lockdown. You need to keep the house here on lockdown too. Don’t allow anybody on the property, except for Xavier or Yolanthe.”

“Of course,” Gregoire said. “Do you need to feed before you leave?”

Julian shook his head. Then he paused to look into the other man’s eyes. While he did not encourage the kind of familiarity in his household that some other Vampyres did, Gregoire had been with him for almost forty years, quietly and unassumingly going about his tasks, and somehow always managing to ensure that everything was exactly the way that Julian wished.

He put his hand on the other man’s shoulder. “No, but thank you for thinking of it. Look after yourself and the others. I would be – most displeased if something happened to you.”

Gregoire smiled and somehow managed to look worried at the same time. “I will, sir. Please look after yourself as well.”

Over the normal sounds of the city at night, Julian could hear the steady chopping of an approaching helicopter. Yolanthe’s strike team was almost here. He left Gregoire and strode into his study, where he went to a weapons cabinet that was tastefully concealed behind a walnut panel. By the time he had armed himself, the helicopter had landed on the helipad on the grounds behind the detached garage.