I climb in and he shuts the door, giving a two-finger salute to Frey and Chael. Frey frowns back. Chael merely smiles.
Once the driver has pulled the car into traffic, I turn in the seat to give him the once-over. He must have been in his thirties when he was turned. His face bears the look of one who spends a great deal of time outdoors—lines radiate from the corners of his eyes, his skin is smooth but deeply tanned. His dark hair is brushed back from his temples and touches the collar of his shirt and when his eyes find mine, they are green with gold flecks. He is broad shouldered, not dressed in the uniform of a chauffeur, the lines of his jacket cut in a classic style, his slacks tapered to the tops of polished loafers. His hands on the wheel look steady and strong, his fingers slender, his nails lightly buffed.
King Steffan obviously likes his employees to cut a stylish figure.
All the time I am studying him, he keeps his thoughts closed. Completely. He has been vampire for a long time to master such ability. Nothing comes through. Neither is he probing my thoughts. If I am of any interest to him, he gives nothing away.
King Steffan trains them well, too.
“Do you speak English?” I ask at last.
“Yes,” he replies.
“Can you tell me where we are going?”
“We are almost there.”
I look around. We have left the town limits and are traveling out into the countryside. But I see nothing that looks like a castle. In fact, I see nothing at all. This road, if I remember correctly, leads to a farming community and little else.
Strangely, I feel no concern. Where uneasiness should have vampire clawing her way to the surface, instead I find myself enjoying the ride: the purr of the stately old engine, the wind in my hair, the freedom of not having to guard every thought from intruding minds. The driver pays me no heed.
Fields surround us, the perfume of new grass and freshly tilled soil fills the night air. I look up at stars like pinpricks of fiery ice filling the darkening sky. They appear as if someone had thrown a switch at sunset to start the show.
A sliver of a moon dances on the horizon. Besides the stars, it sheds the only light, meager as it is, to illuminate the road. When the driver pulls off onto a side road, I stir and glance over.
“Where are we?”
He smiles but says nothing.
Okay. Enough is enough. “I thought I was going to meet King Steffan.”
The driver slows the car at the edge of a bluff and stops.
He turns in his seat and lets his eyes lock with mine.
Before he opens his thoughts to me, I know.
And feel foolish that I hadn’t guessed.
This dashing driver, this old vampire with the impenetrable mind,
“Are you angry?” he asks.
I raise my shoulders. “Should I be angry?”
“Well, you were promised a castle.”
I wave a hand. “I’d settle for a ride in this beautiful old car over a visit to a stuffy castle anytime.” I brush a finger over the dashboard. “What year is it?”
“It’s a 1929.”
“And I suppose you’re the original owner.”
He laughs. It’s musical and self-deprecating. “Yes. But you may change your mind when you see my castle. It’s not stuffy, I assure you.”
He is studying me the way I studied him when I first got into the car. After a moment, he says, “You are not what I imagined.”
“Which is?”
He tilts his head. “After the stories I’d heard about you, I expected someone with a harder edge. Someone tougher. You look like the schoolteacher you once were. Not a bounty hunter. And certainly not like the vanquisher of half a dozen old-soul vampires.”
“You’ve done your homework.”
“Of course. Haven’t you?”
“No.”
He looks surprised. “And yet you agreed to meet me alone? You were not afraid?”
“Half a dozen old-soul vampires, remember?”
He laughs again at that. “You have confidence, Anna. And strength of conviction, I can see that. It pains me to think we may become adversaries.”
“Then you know why I’m here. Why we are meeting.”
He sighs. “Chael told me. I am sorry it is such a sad occasion that brings you to France. But as for the other, you must recognize that you are out of your depth in Europe. We do not accept your title or your Council. Now that I have met you, I see why others respect you. But you will find no allies amongst the vampires in Europe. They swear allegiance only to me.”
“Then it’s you I’ll have to convince to give up your shortsighted plan.”
He studies me another minute, this time letting his eyes travel from my face to my breasts and down my legs in a lazy, appraising path that is as obvious as it is insulting. “You are welcome to try. In fact, I think I insist on it.”
Bristling, I draw myself up on the seat. “Not even in your wildest dreams.” Does it sound as juvenile to him as it does to me?
“How provincial. You are engaged. To the shape-shifter, I know.”
As if that is the only reason I could possibly reject such an opportunity. But his tone while condescending and scornful has an underlying hint of—disappointment. I try to probe for the meaning behind his reaction, but the mental brick wall is back in place.
He reaches down and starts the engine. “I’ll bring you back to town—to your fiance whom I imagine is getting restless waiting for you. But we will talk again. I think you and I have many things to discuss, Anna Strong.”
I reach over and grasp his hand, forcing him to kill the engine. “So, let’s talk. Why waste time? I know what you are planning. You must know if you attempt to upset the balance between mortals and vampires, you will have to face the opposition of the Thirteen Tribes. We will be a formidable opponent.”
This time, Steffan eyes me with nothing but a disdainful glare. The kind of expression I’d expect from a
“I am not prepared to argue with you tonight. In fact, have you not more important matters to tend to? Your mother is dying. You are preparing for a wedding. When we speak again, I want your full attention.”
The hair bristles on the back of my neck. “You may not like what happens when you have my full attention.”
He looks hard at me, then moves my hand aside and cranks the engine over once again.
This time I let him. Mentioning my mother reminds me that whatever Steffan’s plans are, I do have more important priorities. Europe seems to be in no imminent danger, even from one as arrogant as this vampire who calls himself a king.
He pulls the car onto the road, makes a U-turn and we’re heading back for the city lights of Lorgues. We travel in stiff silence and it’s not until we’ve come to a halt in front of the cafe and I’m preparing to open the door that Steffan stops me with a hand on my arm. He’s looking at Frey who has risen to meet me. He leans close. His lips are warm on my ear when he whispers.
I pull out of his grip, a cold anger rising.
Frey is approaching the car, and I climb out to meet him.
I don’t turn to see what Steffan is doing, but as the car engine revs, Steffan calls to me once again.
