Enduring Retribution e-book (2 page)

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Bailey made her way to the back of the restaurant just as Pete walked past her with her guards. She made sure the woman made it safely to her car, but not before the maitre d' stopped her to talk with her and for her to pay the bill. As a witness, he was ideal, if any was needed when this was all over. She had learned to cover her tracks over the years, and to get sloppy now would mean certain death. With that done, Bailey moved further to the back of the restaurant toward the table and the seat Pete had just vacated. On her way, Bailey pushed Mr. Franco into believing he needed to use the facilities. As he stood up to go, Bailey sat in the empty chair across from Salvatore.

“Hello, Salvatore, or is it Mark this time? Maybe you go by Thomas again. Oh! I know, Phillip, which was one of my all-time favorites, you know. Don’t move. I have a gun pointed at your heartless chest under the table and I won’t hesitate to kill you with it.”

“You’ve been trying to kill me for months now, Ms. Lynne, but alas, I am smarter than you, a mere female. I will walk away again and you will go to your lonely bed to cry into your pillow.” He glanced around for help, Bailey was sure of it. “Do you miss your dear Tyler? He was such a thrill to me. Sometimes just before I come in another deep ass, I think of his screams and I come all the harder for it. Yes, he was a tasty morsel.” He licked his lips at the memory and to try and get a rise out of her as he looked around the room again.

Bailey had never been this close before. He’d always been one step ahead of her. But she wasn’t letting him get away from her this time. He was hers and she had been chasing after his happy ass for months.

Her name wasn’t Lynne, but a small variation on her real name. Very few people or beings knew it. Most everyone only knew her as The Printer, one of the most feared assassins of this and other realms around.

“Tyler’s murder will be avenged, Salvatore. I’ll see to that now. Enjoy hell as much as I’m going to enjoy sending you there.”

And the gun went off, plowing twelve silver bullets into his chest and stomach. When she stood up, bringing the gun out from under the table, she pulled the trigger once more and shot him between the eyes, which were still opened in shock at the fact that she’d had the nerve to kill him. She made short work of removing his head from his body, her signature and a necessity in working with other beings, and after leaving the gruesome item on the table, she left the restaurant.

No one noticed what had happened, as she had held everyone in thrall for the few seconds it took to dispatch him to hell and for her to leave the restaurant. By the time she was halfway to the doors, she released everyone and mayhem broke loose, and just like that, the body had been discovered, not that it was easy to overlook—a severed head sitting in the middle of a table in one of the best restaurants in Paris. She had already taken care of the surveillance cameras here within the building and the ones along the street as well yesterday when she found out he would be there. Now she just needed to get the hell out.

Bailey walked into the street as she was tucking the once again fully locked and loaded Glock into her large bag. She slung it over her shoulder. Taking a deep breath, she started to step off the curb and into the street just as a large SUV screamed to a halt in front of her. Her gun was out and ready before the door closest to her opened. Even seeing who was there did not give her the feeling she could put it away.

“Get in. I know it was you and as I can feel everyone’s panic inside. You must have caused the death of whoever they are screaming about, yet you’re calm. I said to get in. Right now, the police are on their way.”

Bailey looked down the street and saw two French police cruisers screaming around the corner, lights swinging across every building and the sirens echoing loudly. She didn’t want to be caught in the crush of people being questioned about something only she knew about. So, with her gun still drawn, she stepped into the awaiting vehicle. They were moving down the street before Bailey had a chance to buckle her seat belt.

Bailey reached out to the driver and sent him directions to the nearest underground rail system entrance. She kept her weapon trained on the woman in front of her and didn’t say a word as he careened around the corner to her destination. Keeping in his mind, she felt when someone else, presumably the woman across from her, reached into his mind as well.

Bailey felt the woman touch her mind then. Bailey could almost laugh at the frustration on her face, not that she blamed the woman, but Bailey wasn’t going to be searched so easily.

Bailey could speak several languages and what the woman was finding with her touch was four or five different ones scrambling around. Even if the woman could speak them, Bailey was simply reciting
War and Peace
word for word to her.

“You probably saved my life, but as someone has killed Salvatore, we will never know, will we? Why did you kill him? If you don’t mind my asking, that is?” she asked her quietly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Killed who?” Bailey never looked away, just kept staring at the woman as though looking for a sign or something.

She was actually. Just before anyone attacked, they always did one of three things: a) they tensed up just before; b) blinked several times so that they wouldn’t when it was pinch time; c) made some sort of small movement to a partner. She knew these not because she had taken courses in human nature, but because she did observe people a great deal and watched what they did and how they reacted to different situations. Telltale signs had saved her life on more than one occasion. She was usually much too aware of her surroundings to be taken easily.

“Okay, we’ll play it your way for the time being. But know this, I’m stronger, meaner, and much scarier when I want to be.”

Damn it,
Bailey thought just before sleep claimed her.

~CHAPTER TWO~

“Very good, Mac. Now, try this, open the door again, only this time I want you to focus solely on the woman from yesterday. Penny Gus, remember her? Focus.”

Patrice Skidmore was enjoying the young boy’s enthusiasm and barely contained excitement, Aaron observed. He was so serious one moment and a complete goof the next. When he and his twin got together, Aaron couldn’t help but smile at their antics.

The lessons had been going on for a week now and Aaron was there every day watching the progress his son was making. They had found out only recently that he was a necromancer, and a very good one by all indications. He could talk to ghosts whenever they appeared, but mostly he’d had no control of them once they came. He hadn’t learned how to put them back. Not a good term to use for returning the dead to their final resting place, but it was one Mac understood. So Mel, friend and queen of all magic, had recommended that they find him someone who could teach him control. That was why the lessons had begun. Having a power this strong and no control was dangerous to human and vampires.

Aaron looked over at the man seated at the makeshift desk. He was Tristan St. James the fifth, Patrice’s oldest friend for almost four hundred years. Tristan hadn’t looked up once from his laptop in all the time they had been there. Aaron grinned again, thinking about the look of complete horror on the younger vamp’s face when Aaron had offered him the usage of his office while he was here. The mess on and around the desk nearly sent him into cardiac arrest, Aaron was sure. He’d tried to be polite, but finally broke down.

“How can you sit in here? It’s a…you can’t…oh my God, this is just nasty! There are papers everywhere!”

Aaron had known it was unorganized, but nasty? Well, he soon learned that anything that wasn’t charted, pie graphed, and filed away was “nasty” to the man. He was the most organized, neat person he’d ever met. But that didn’t stop Aaron from having fun at his expense.

“Really? Oh I don’t know, I think it has a nice, homey look, don’t you think?” Aaron said with all innocence.

Tristan didn’t say a word, just snapped his mouth closed and walked away. He hadn’t stepped one foot even in the direction of the room since. It was Duncan who had set up the table for him in the study, and had had Pete come over and hook up his Internet and modem for him before she had left for Paris. The top of the table looked as though he hadn’t done a thing but sit there, but he’d been working every day since he came, brokering deals and buying and selling stock. He also designed and sold video games for different systems, and from all accounts, was very successful at it. Aaron watched him play with his children and knew that Tristan was getting ideas from them.

Patrice was more relaxed than her friend, which wasn’t saying much; a steel rod was more relaxed than him. She was friendly, soft spoken, and polite. Aaron had thought there was some connection between her and Tristan, but was told they were just friends and nothing more. Aaron had thought that Patrice looked upset at that, but it was gone so quickly that he figured he had imagined it. The other day she had laughed at Tristan and ruffled his hair when he had suggested, well, ordered her to stop “flitting about” the house. She had been playing tag with the children and her laughter had been as loud as the children’s. Tristan took more offense to her fluffing his hair than her laughing at him. The next time Aaron had seen him, he was back to his well-groomed self.

They were both members of the Royal House of Vampirism and the only purebred vampires anyone in this house had ever met. Tristan, as third son, was not required to have a bodyguard at all times, but as Patrice was the only daughter, and the youngest of five older brothers, she did have a bodyguard in the form of a brother, even a friend of a brother, as was the case now. One of them was with her at all times when she left the castle, no matter how much she complained about them smothering her, yet they stilled tagged along. Aaron didn’t think there was anything wrong with this arrangement. Keeping an eye on the females of the world was just the way it should be done. But he had kept that comment to himself. He had learned a long time ago that Sara, his lifemate, didn’t share the same views on that particular subject, and she was extremely good with a blade, thank you very much.

“We’re all finished, Dad; can I go help Sam now?”

Mac had a big crush on Sam James, Tucker’s mate, another vampire in his Kiss of friends and family. Sam was seven months pregnant and staying with them until their home was updated to vampire standards with underground lairs and such. She did most of the baking at her shop, Sam’s Baked Goods, but experimented here in the kitchen when she had an idea. It worked out well for the ladies of the house, as they were all willing taste testers in these brainstorm sessions that happened nearly every week. Sam also baked the occasional un-birthday cake for one of the children at Becca’s Place, and his own children at least twice a week. While Aaron didn’t eat food of any kind, he very much enjoyed watching his mate’s obvious enjoyment of it, especially cheeseburgers.

“Sure, son, did you thank Lady Skidmore? Good, run along now, and ask your mother to come in here, please?” Mac took off. Aaron noticed that Mac never walked when running could be done instead. When Sara came into the room, she was on the cell phone.

“But you don’t know who she is? Yes, well, I can see that would be a problem. All right, just let us know what you find out. I love you too. Yes, I’ll be sure to tell him. Good-bye.”

“Pete has run into a slight problem in France. She will be coming home tonight and should
be home sometime tomorrow afternoon. She may be bringing someone back with her. We’ll talk
more about it later.”
Sara whispered through his mind, as she didn’t discuss business in front of strangers.

“Is she all right? Nothing has happened to her, has it?” H
e was concerned about all the members of his Kiss, but he had asked Dominic, her mate, to stay here this trip as he had a large meeting with his advisors over the next two days, and he would never forgive himself if anything happened to her.

“She’s fine, wonderful as a matter of fact. She said that she picked me up some beautiful
negligees and that Dominic approved of hers and that you should like the ones for me just as
much.” A
aron felt her desire immediately, her body tensing with sudden need.

Aaron turned to Patrice when Sara sat on his lap. She hadn’t actually started out there but on the seat next to him on the couch. But he couldn’t seem to get enough of her. He needed to touch her whenever they were together whether there was company or not.

“Well, Lady Skidmore, how’s he doing?” Aaron asked after he nibbled gently on Sara’s neck

“He’s a remarkable little boy, Mr. MacManus. He’s smart, and willing to learn. He doesn’t get easily frustrated when things don’t go his way, like some other person I can name.” She looked over at Tristan who just glared at her and resumed working. “He is very strong and in a few years will be able to call forth any soul and control it without problems.”

“Why would he want to? I mean, why would there be a need for him to be able to call souls to him? I guess I don’t understand what that sort of power can be used for.” Aaron understood that Mac was gifted, but was not sure how he would use this power.

Aaron knew that people, humans, considered vampires to be dead, the undead as a matter of fact, when in actuality they were as much living beings as anyone else. They just happened to need blood to sustain them rather than regular food. There were other creatures that needed emotions to survive.

“You’re right, Mr. MacManus. It is an odd power, even for a vampire. But it will be useful in a great many incidents. For instance, as a vampire, he would be able to call forth a previous master and ask what had happened with this piece of property or why was this left unfinished…”

“Or why you left such a mess in my office,” Tristan said in a low voice.

Aaron was sure Tristan hadn’t meant to say it out loud because he flushed and shifted in his chair when Aaron looked his way.

“I doubt very much whether the previous master of this house even saw the mess on my desk. But if Mac happens to call him, I’ll make sure he asks him for you.” Aaron laughed again.