**NB. This story is as it comes – straight out of my head and may contain typos**
CHAPTER 17 – BLANE
When I first moved to Plane Five, it had felt like an extended vacation. A break from the rigours of wrangling unruly souls. But this week, I yearned for the days when my biggest headache was managing Tsar Ivan’s temper tantrums.
Joseph arrived beside me. Silently, of course, but I could feel his energy.
“Why have you been staring at the bar staff for the past ten minutes?” he asked. “Is there a problem?”
We were standing on the balcony outside my office. It spanned the width of the club and allowed me to keep an eye on things without having to elbow inebriated humans out of the way. To the right, the VIP area on the mezzanine provided an endless source of entertainment when the club was open, and down below, the main bar and dance floor were empty save for the staff busy preparing for tonight’s influx of guests.
“There are many, many problems.”
“So, should I fire them?” Joseph offered a little too enthusiastically.
“The problems aren’t connected to the bar staff.”
He perched his ass on the glass railing and studied me. “You mean Wren?”
“She’s one of the issues, yes.”
“Are you talking about more than just the whole ‘bestie’s been kidnapped by a psycho’ thing?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because I saw the way you looked at Nevaeh, and now I see the way you look at her.”
Many times over the past several years, I’d been glad that I’d selected Joseph to accompany me to Plane Five. He’d proven to be both loyal and discreet, qualities oh-so-necessary for his current role. But he was also reasonably perceptive, which was unfortunate at this particular moment in time.
“I’m helping her through a difficult patch, that’s all.”
“Aurelia says you have a saviour complex.”
“Aurelia reads too much.”
My little sister always had a book in her hand. Few people ever ventured into the library, a dusty, cavernous room full of ancient texts and occasional words of wisdom from Plane One past residents, but Aurelia treated it as a second home. Her official job title was Executive Board Trainee, which basically meant that someday, she’d be expected to take over the management of Plane Two when Mom and Dad retired. If they retired. Dad spent most of his time playing golf anyway, so few people would be able to tell the difference.
“Aurelia would argue that it’s impossible to read too much.”
“Of course she would—she’s probably been studying Socrates.”
“You can’t deny that you always go for needy women.”
“Wren isn’t needy. She’s just…been impacted by circumstances beyond her control.”
“So are you admitting that you like her?”
“I’m admitting nothing.”
“Nevaeh isn’t coming back, you know. You wouldn’t be betraying her memory if you moved on.”
“Nevaeh literally is back.” Lola Vasquez had inherited my late girlfriend’s soul—I felt it on a cosmic level. “She comes to my apartment every other day for cookies and cocoa.”
“I meant in a form that wouldn’t get you arrested if you took her out for dinner. I say this as a friend and also as your lawyer—don’t go there.”
“Of course I’m not going to go there. Do you think I’m an idiot?”
“Sometimes.”
Yes, today was definitely one of the days I regretted picking Joseph as my earthly assistant.
As for Nevaeh, I’d always love her, but now that she’d been reborn, that love had to take a different form. I’d do everything in my power to protect Lola, to make sure she didn’t suffer in this life as she had in the last.
But I also found myself wanting to protect Wren. Needing to protect Wren. She had no one but Kayden to depend on, and her ex sounded like an asshole. Maybe I could take her out for dinner? Discreetly, obviously, because if one of Laurent’s people spotted her, I’d have to intervene, and things could get awkward if I was forced to dispatch a man to Plane Four in public.
Hmm. Maybe Joseph was right and I was an idiot? It was a possibility, but I’d never admit that.
“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response. Don’t you have things to do? Has there been any further correspondence regarding the Devil’s Den?”
“Not yet. Are you planning to tell Vee about the Voltaire situation?”
“Yes, I’m planning to tell her.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
Not one hundred percent, no, but if I wanted Wren to trust my judgment, then I had to trust hers in return.
“It’s the right thing to do.”
***
“Putain de merde, I have to leave the city.” Vee began pacing in my office. “No, the country.”
“Why don’t you sit down for a moment? I’ll open a bottle of wine.”
I’d come to Tilt this evening to give her the news about Voltaire and the Devil’s Den, and it was going down about as well as I’d expected. Which was to say, badly.
“Wine? Are you crazy? I need to pack.”
“You can’t leave town. What about your life here? What about Callahan?”
“If Voltaire finds out I’m with Callahan, he’ll kill him. We’re still married, Blane.”
“Only on paper. The fact that you’ve been avoiding the man—sorry, the vampire—for the last century should have told him it’s over.”
“Voltaire doesn’t care about love. He only cares about control.”
“And world domination? Conquering Europe wasn’t enough?”
“Callahan looked into that after we saw Voltaire on the Strip. He made a rare mistake, and the Parisian police want to speak with him about the disappearance of a backpacker. Usually when he’s thirsty, he picks women nobody will miss, but this time, he managed to abduct the granddaughter of a wealthy Italian politician.”
“Oops. That’s a grave mistake to make.”
“She was travelling through Europe on a gap year. Dammit! I don’t want to leave Vegas, but if Voltaire stays, I’ll have no choice.”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t get the Devil’s Den. Maybe he’ll give up and move on? I hear Alaska is nice at this time of year.”
“I doubt he’ll move on. For whatever reason, he’s decided that Vegas is the place he wants to be.”
“Don’t run yet. Give me a few weeks to buy the Devil’s Den, and then we’ll reevaluate.”
“Do you need money? I have money.”
I didn’t need Vee’s money. If the worst came to the worst, I’d pay another visit to the Caribbean with Joseph to dig up some more gold. Prices were excellent on the black market these days. And I’d also ask Aurelia to have a nose through the library and see what she could find on vampires. Uncle Tiberius had been cagey when he created them, by all accounts—he wasn’t a man who liked to admit to his mistakes—but occasionally he’d left scribbled reminders to himself, and many of his notes got scooped up and archived when he disappeared. If vampires had a weakness, I needed to find out about it.
“Money isn’t an issue, but if Callahan’s in the mood for looking into things, I’d like a favour.”
“What kind of favour?”
“There’s a fellow named Laurent causing a few problems around here, and I could do with some background on him.”
“What kind of problems?”
“Oh, nothing you need to worry about.”
“Wait, is this about Wren?”
Shit. “Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s not like you to abandon a damsel in distress to work on something else. You have white knight syndrome.”
“Have you been talking to Aurelia?”
“How would I talk to Aurelia? She’s in a whole other realm.”
“Whole other plane. A realm is something totally different.”
Vee rolled her eyes. “Okay, a whole other plane. Stop trying to change the subject. Do you have a lead on Wren?”
Vee might have dismissed the idea of wine, but I rose from my chair and walked over to the drinks cabinet anyway. Picked out an earthy Sangiovese from my vineyard in Tuscany and took a moment to consider my next move while I removed the cork.
“Try this,” I said, handing her a glass.
“Which part of ‘stop changing the subject’ didn’t you understand?”
I had to tell her, didn’t I? Vee was smarter than Joseph, and fobbing her off wasn’t an option. She’d only start poking around herself, which had the potential to stir up a hornets’ nest.
“Wren is safe. I’ve been in touch with her, and she’s fine, but a friend of hers is missing.”
“Missing? Has she filed a report?”
“Not yet, but I’ll encourage her to do so.”
“I could ask Callahan to—”
“No. I promised her no cops.”
“But—”
“Even if I think it’s a bad call on her part, I’m not going back on my word. I told you that Wren was safe to put your mind at ease, but I can’t say more than that without breaking a confidence.”
Vee opened her mouth, then closed it again. Finally, her expression softened.
“That’s what I like about you, Blane. You consider people’s feelings and do the right thing. I woke up in the early hours worrying about Wren, and even though I’ll toss and turn tonight thanks to Voltaire, knowing she’s okay gives me one less thing to lose sleep over.”
“I’m sorry I put Voltaire in your head.”
“I’m not. I’d rather know than get a nasty surprise later.” She squeezed my hand. “Thank you for telling me. And I’ll ask Callahan if he knows anything about Laurent. Is that a first name or a last name?”
“I’m not sure. But from what I’ve heard, he’s an unsavoury character.”
“The name sounds vaguely familiar, but I can’t put my finger on why. Maybe he visited Club Dead?”
“It’s possible.” If I could find out what he looked like, I’d be able to check the security camera footage. “Tell Callahan not to ask too many questions. There might be a mole in the police department.”
“A mole? Do you know that for sure? Is that why Wren won’t go to the police?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny.”
“So that’s a yes? Sheesh, what did she get involved in?”
“Nothing. She was an innocent bystander.”
A woman in the wrong place at the wrong time. Although now that she was in my apartment, it felt as if she was in the right place, just under the worst possible circumstances. My phone rang, and I was about to send the call to voicemail when Vee shook her head.
“Take it. I need to get to work anyway. I’ll make sure Callahan treads carefully.”
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Chapter 18
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