Jocelynn Drake - Wait for Dusk

Lifting his chin, Stefan unclenched his jaw enough so he could speak. “A month ago I sent my assistant here to pick up a package for me. She arrived by private jet. She came to the city and checked into a hotel, but that was the last that was heard of her. The package was never picked up and nothing has been seen of my assistant.”

“If you need help acquiring your package, I’m sure I can assist you. I am familiar with many of the shopkeepers throughout the city,” Veyron said with a nonchalant wave of his hand.

The arm of the chair that Stefan was sitting in creaked as the nightwalker’s grip tightened. “I am not concerned with the package,” Stefan bit back in a deadly soft voice. “I want to know where my assistant is. She is to be returned to me.”

Veyron gave a sad shake of his head that left even me wanting to rip it off. “I’m afraid this is the first I have heard of the matter. I’ll do what I can to help you find her.”

“I believe it will be in your best interest to help me because I plan to dismantle this city until I do find her,” Stefan snapped.

“What’s her name?” Macaire inquired politely.

“Michelle,” Stefan replied, his voice losing some of its edge. “She is just over five feet tall, with brown hair that hangs down to her waist. Her eyes are brown and there is a sparse sprinkling of freckles across her nose.”

“How old was she?” Valerio asked.

“She is 221 years old,” Stefan said, surprising me. I had not expected his assistant to be a nightwalker. But then, by the detailed description he gave and his refusal to face the fact that she was most likely dead, I was willing to bet that Michelle was more than just an assistant to him. I hadn’t expected Stefan to actually have any kind of emotions for anyone beside himself. Of course, it made sense. Nothing would force Stefan to volunteer to come on a mission with me unless it was very important to him. And by his tone of voice, Michelle was very important to him. For a brief second I wondered if it was Michelle that had truly brought Stefan to Budapest and not some elaborate plot cooked up between him and Macaire.

I frowned, biting back a comment. It was very likely that Michelle wasn’t still alive if she had disappeared more than a month ago. Nightwalkers didn’t just disappear. There was always the chance that she had run from Stefan and was hiding somewhere in the East, where things were a little wilder and less closely monitored by the coven and its keepers. In the East, it was easier to slip in and become lost among the other nightwalkers, creating a new identity for yourself.

However, I was reluctant to accept this theory. Stefan seemed to truly care for Michelle, and I assumed he’d know if there was a possibly that she would run. Of course, love can make us all blind at times.

“If she was in town a month ago, you may consider contacting Ferko,” Veyron suggested, scratching his chin with his right hand. “He’s the alpha for the local pack. Sometimes the lycans can get a little rough when it’s close to the full moon. I hate to think it, but there is a small chance that she may have fallen in with a rough crowd while she was in town.”

“Is that a problem in Budapest?” I asked, raising one eyebrow at him. “Locals harassed and potentially killed by the lycans?”

“Not really.” The nightwalker shrugged, looking for all the world as if none of this conversation truly mattered to him, and in truth it shouldn’t if he didn’t consider himself the keeper of Budapest. “Of course, the time of the full moon for the shifters is always a dangerous time of the month. Sometimes people go missing. I’m sure it happens everywhere.”

“Actually, it doesn’t.” My voice grew colder, losing its congenial softness and warm invitation. “The alpha for the pack in my own domain keeps a tight control over his people. Humans and nightwalkers do not go missing in my domain.” Sitting back, I tapped my finger on my lips in thought. “Macaire, please correct me if I’m wrong, being as I am new to the Elder position,” I began, pausing to smile over at him.

“Of course,” he replied with a stiff smile of his own. “What is on your mind?”

“I don’t think the coven is comfortable with this current arrangement.”

“How do you mean?” Macaire said, sitting up a little straighter in his chair as he slid closer to the edge of his seat.

“As a member of the coven, I have to admit that I’m not comfortable with the regular disappearance of humans and nightwalkers within the city,” I said, dropping my hand back into my lap. “And if I’m not comfortable, the rest of the coven couldn’t possibly be comfortable.”

“Macaire has never expressed any concern about the arrangement for the city,” Veyron admitted thoughtlessly as he started to squirm in his own chair.

“Correct me if I am wrong, fellow Elder, but I don’t think you are fully aware of the situation, considering that you spend the majority of your time in Italy,” I said. “Speaking of which,” I added, turning my attention back to Veyron, “why are the fledglings of Budapest not making an appearance before the coven, as is tradition?”

“It was my impression that we were no longer following that old tradition.”

I gave a little snort and shook my head as I looked over at Macaire. “Could you ever see us giving up such a time-tested tradition as breaking in the fledglings in Venice? It’s positively absurd!”

“It is the only way to teach them where the true power of our people lie,” Macaire said through clenched teeth.

“Respect,” Valerio said. “The young nightwalkers here have no respect for the coven, the Elders, or even when they see a true Ancient,” he added as he picked a piece of lint off his dark slacks. He couldn’t resist putting another nail in Veyron’s coffin. I had no doubt that he knew where I was going with this and was now simply egging me on.

I heaved a heavy sigh and looked down at my hands folded in my lap. “This can’t continue.”

“It can’t be!” Veyron said, nearly coming out of his chair.

“But it is. Shifters are killing nightwalkers and humans, endangering the secret. Nightwalkers are not appearing before the coven, which is the only place they can properly learn what it means to be a nightwalker and understand their place in the world. This is unacceptable, and I know I speak for the rest of the coven when I say this cannot continue.”

“What are you planning to do?” Macaire demanded in a slow, deceptively even voice.

“The only thing I can do,” I said, before sucking in a deep, weary breath. “I will take over as the keeper of Budapest.”

“But you can’t!” Veyron cried, jumping out of his chair.

“Why not?” I asked, one corner of my mouth lifting in a smile as I settled back in my own chair.

Veyron squirmed in silence for several seconds before he finally found his voice and a viable excuse for his objection. “You’re already the keeper of a city in the New World. How would you manage to be in two places at once?”

“I would spend an extended period of time here, remaining until I felt that the city was on the right track before I returned to Savannah,” I stated. “And in truth, now that I am an Elder on the coven, it is probably best that I remain in Europe so I can be close at hand to Venice. I may actually hand over Savannah to my assistant. He would do an adequate job at managing the city.”

Veyron slumped back in his chair, his hands balled into loose fists on his knees. He was trapped, and it was all I could do to swallow laughter. If he didn’t want me to claim the keeper position for the city, he would have to step forward and claim it himself. Of course, considering the poor job he was currently doing, there was a good chance I would steal it from him anyway.