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  “I mean to say, I’m attempting to get your opinion on this painting. I’m curious as to what you think.”

  Less sugar this time, and an actual point. Progress of a sort.

  Rowan took a long, measuring look at the painting. “I can understand the appeal of a piece like this.”

  Her skin itched and the hair at the back of her neck rose. It wasn’t just that someone was watching her, but there was some nasty magic in the air too. Rowan kept yammering about art while she took a look around the gallery to see what might be amiss.

  That’s when Rowan caught sight of one of the humans who’d gotten away after the last battle they’d fought—and won—in Venice.

  “I need to freshen up.” Rowan kept her tone light, needing Antonia to stay right there where there were people and it was safe.

  “A piece like this? What do you mean?” Antonia asked as Rowan walked away.

  “It’s a piece people are supposed to have thoughts about. I’m contrary. I dislike being manipulated instead of moved by art,” Rowan said without pausing as she headed toward the restrooms conveniently located in a hallway just outside the main exhibition space.

  Brigid stirred as Rowan cast off dutiful daughter-in-law and slid back into Hunter. The air was all wrong. Something was about to happen.

  Her shoes made no noise on the hardwoods—Clive was totally going to get a blowjob in thanks for them—as she managed to text David an update and situated herself into a shadowy corner to take the gallery in.

  Her watcher inside hadn’t even noticed that Rowan had left yet. It was doubtful he was a professional being that sloppy. However, the fact that someone had been sent to tail her meant her appearing act across the street from the Motherhouse had raised an alarm somewhere.

  The Blood Front would be stupid to send Vampires or even daytime help to this place. Vampires from some very old and powerful houses glided through the gallery.

  Though Rowan and her people had kicked ass in Venice and decimated the ranks of the Blood Front, she wasn’t stupid enough to believe they were totally vanquished. But they’d been burned to the ground and whatever was left had scattered.

  And it wasn’t Rowan they needed to fear. Because The First had sent out his personal boogeymen, The Five, to thoroughly investigate just how many Vampires were involved and then set about executing them. One entire line had been eliminated.

  No, the male who’d just now begun to scan the gallery anew to relocate her, was human. A sorcerer, which meant he might be a link between Roth and whoever he was working with.

  She wanted to punch someone so bad she could taste it.

  Starting out, Rowan had felt worse about having to get mean with humans than with Vampires. She’d since dealt with plenty of humans who needed someone bigger and badder to be mean to them.

  Bullies were really the problem. Cowards. Petty and vicious, no matter their origin story.

  As such, Rowan figured they needed to be knocked down for the good of everyone else.

  Her blade was back at the house, but she had knives at her calves, which she retrieved; once she was ready, she let the human see her heading out a back door leading to the narrow lane between two buildings leading to the street.

  The gallery was located in a tony neighborhood that had been a scary one back when Rowan had lived in London. The cold-water flats had been rehabbed, the buildings now full of super expensive condos.

  Gentrification was everywhere.

  Even close to midnight there was some foot traffic and the occasional cab or car driving past. But it was quiet enough that once Rowan got herself in place, she could hear the noise from the gallery.

  Quiet enough that within two minutes the scuffle of footsteps approached from the sidewalk facing the road. Though he made an attempt to keep close to the buildings and be stealthy, he wasn’t very successful.

  It was downright insulting that they’d sent this oaf after her. Whoever they were in this case.

  Rowan was on him in two movements once he neared, spinning him to slam his back against a nearby wall.

  He squawked until she cut off his air with her forearm across his throat. “Shut up or I’ll shut you up,” Rowan snarled in his ear. The magic they’d used before had come from chanting. If he tried it, she’d live her dream and punch him in the throat.

  He continued to struggle but she had him pinned and soon enough, he didn’t have the air to struggle so he finally gave up.

  She eased back a bit to allow some oxygen through, but kept him immobile. “Don’t try magic or I’ll snap your neck. Goddess, why do you all waste my fucking time this way? You’re going to tell me and I’ll happily beat you down if you don’t share on your own. So. You have enough air and one minute to tell me what you’re doing following me. Don’t waste either of those things with denials.”

  He clamped his lips closed so she sliced up his side with one of her knives. Enough to really hurt. Enough to really bleed but not bleed out. Enough to do some damage to his muscles.

  His scream couldn’t escape over the hand she’d clamped over his mouth. Sweat and blood filled Rowan’s senses.

  Fear.

  She leaned closer and breathed deep. Brigid flexed and heated inside Rowan’s belly. Part of Rowan reveled in it, fed on it just as much as the Goddess did.

  “Time’s a wastin’,” Rowan told him in a voice that wasn’t entirely her own. The Goddess had awakened.

  He trembled, which annoyed her even more so she punched him in the nose.

  “I don’t even like you, so it’s not as if I feel bad about beating you up. Especially after you assholes have been trying to kill me and mine pretty much nonstop for the last few years. But I have a prior engagement to get back to.”

  He cried out as she moved her hand and she gave him a shot to the kidney.

  “No one is coming to save you. You’re cannon fodder. A message that they know I’m here. But I knew that. I allowed myself to be seen.” Rowan gave him a moment, noted with satisfaction the fear flooding his features. But when he didn’t speak, she lashed out again, leaving a weal of blood down his face and neck and another across his chest.

  “She’ll kill me!” he sobbed.

  “You guys always say that. It’s so dumb because I’m killing you right now. You need to prioritize your to-do list.” Blood spattered on her blouse and she cursed, slapping his face. “Do you know how hard it’s going to be to get blood out of this? You’re why we can’t have nice things.” She patted him down, removing his gun and noting the silver ammo in the clip.

  Interesting. Whether they thought it would harm her or if it was for someone else like Clive or Antonia, she didn’t know yet, but it was something to add to the list.

  Breaking him was going to take some action that required more incentive for him to talk. And that meant she needed to get him off the street. That sort of persuasion needed privacy.

  As Rowan pondered whether or not to knock him out and drag him to get a cab, or if she’d have David send over a car, footsteps sounded several feet away and the narrow space filled with the power of an old Vampire.

  The perfume hit and she realized it was Antonia who’d come outside.

  Shit.

  Rowan tried to keep her body between her mother-in-law and her newly invigorated prisoner. “I need you to go back inside. This is work related. I’ll call you when it’s safe to leave and head home,” she called out.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake! You’ll do no such thing. I can help.”

  What?

  Gone was the sugary coo, replaced with a steady, take-charge delivery and apparently, profanity.

  Clive was going to be so mad at her that she reduced his mother to saying bad words.

  “I’ve got this. Really.”

  Antonia was at her side in the blin
k of an eye. “I’m an old power. Hunter or no, I’m fully capable of protecting myself. Though this wretch isn’t much to worry over.”

  “What’s the deal with your voice?” Rowan asked.

  Antonia laughed. “I needed to know you were the right match for my son. I needed to know who the person I was letting into our lives was.”

  “So you faked it? To fuck with my head you pretended to be an awful person?”

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t just love me from the moment we met!” Antonia put on that voice again like an old coat.

  Rowan shook her head, amazed and impressed. “You’re a total psycho. I’ve wanted to punch you in the throat at least fifty times.”

  Antonia beamed. “I know! It’s been ever so fun. Like a masquerade ball. I’ve called the car around. Ah, here’s the driver.”

  Rowan cocked her fist back to knock out their prisoner, who’d gone silent as he’d taken in the exchange between the women but Antonia stopped her.

  “I don’t have Clive’s abilities to reach in and take memories, but I think this sweet gentleman would love to accompany us to the car.” Antonia let her glamour flow until Rowan nearly drowned in it as she latched on to their prisoner—nice to have it be someone else for a change—who walked happily to the trunk and jumped inside.

  “Please tell me you said the F word before we met,” Rowan said as they got into the car and the driver headed back to the house.

  “Of course I have. It’s a very old word.”

  “Old like you?”

  Antonia thought that was hilarious as she laughed, leaning over to rest a hand on Rowan’s shoulder briefly. “I’d planned to come clean about all this earlier, but it was too much fun so I didn’t.”

  “Yesterday I couldn’t imagine where Clive came from because there was no way he could have come from you. I’m seeing it now.”

  “Are you upset?” Antonia asked.

  “That you tried to gaslight me? Nah, it’s pretty funny. Though I’ll deny it if you recount that I said such a thing. I’m relieved your voice isn’t really a cooing sugarfest. I was waiting for the pet names to go with all that tulle and neon froth. Neon. Jesus.” Antonia better watch her back though, because Rowan would get even.

  When they arrived at the house, Rowan had their prisoner brought to the garage attached to the mews house where David waited, with Clive, who was busily frowning before Rowan had even gotten through the door.

  After a quick look at Clive to assure herself he was fine and in one piece, Rowan turned to her valet. “David, strap this shithead to a chair. No, don’t tend to his wounds. He can bleed to death or tell me what I need to know.”

  Clive took her in, including the blood on her clothing and then his mother. He did a double take then as he took in her clothing. “I’m not entirely sure I want to hear this story.”

  Not even a hello-it’s-been-a-while hug? Just straight into grumpy dad mode?

  Rowan indicated Antonia. “Take your mother home like a good son. I’ll be here torturing Chester when you return.”

  “Chester? Did you find his name?” Antonia leaned closer.

  “No. He just looks like a Chester. “

  Antonia cocked her head. “Alfie?”

  Rowan wrinkled her nose. “I know a very cool dog named Alfie.”

  “Well, let’s not insult that Alfie then. Chester it is.”

  “Don’t involve my mother in your affairs, Rowan,” Clive said with infinite patience, which pushed Rowan’s buttons.

  Rowan looked him up and down—he looked fucking awesome, of course—and gave him her best raised brow. “I’m sure you did not just say that to me. In any case, I need to work. Get out and take your psycho mother with you.”

  Clive winced as Antonia laughed again, hugging Rowan before stepping away once more.

  Clive looked back and forth between Rowan and Antonia. Rowan noted the moment he decided not to pursue the whole story and then the next moment when he tossed that out and decided he needed to hear it all because he was a control-freak nutjob.

  Wanting to forestall that, Rowan pointed in Antonia’s direction. “She’ll tell you on the way to your country home, or manor, whatever you call it.” Rowan looked at her mother-in-law, “I’ll see your crazy ass soon enough I’m sure.”

  “You shall. We need to plan some things. But they can wait until tomorrow,” Antonia told her and then hooked her arm through Clive’s, tugging him toward the door.

  He pulled free, left his mother at the door, stalked over and yanked Rowan into his arms before he laid one hell of a kiss on her.

  Fire. Need. Possession.

  This was the kiss of a man who had returned home from the wars and meant to underline his presence.

  Every part of her should have been outraged instead of tingly and swoony. The only time she got swoony was when she bled too much.

  His taste seemed to melt into her and her annoyance eased some. Mainly because all that lust needed a place and the anger had to go.

  He pulled away after nipping her bottom lip so hard it was slightly swollen when he licked over it.

  “Speechless?” he murmured wearing a smirk. “Shocking. I missed you, Rowan. I’ll be back shortly. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

  With one last kiss to her forehead, he spun on his heel and escorted his mother out.

  Chapter Seven

  “You have a driver. Why am I accompanying you?” Clive asked his mother as she hauled him through the house toward her car. “And why are you dressed like this?”

  “You’ve made your wife angry so she sent you away. Really, Clive, your father is so much better at this. You should watch him at work.”

  He hadn’t even done anything to make her angry! And he certainly had not asked his mother for marital advice.

  “And you appear to be an extra in a music video from the early days of MTV why?”

  “You appear to have a great deal of why based questions, sweetheart. Perhaps a university refresher philosophy class?”

  He aimed her at the driver who’d opened the back door of the car for them. “I need to get back to Rowan. Clearly a caper of some sort has occurred and I’d like to hear about it from her.”

  His mother put a hand at her hip and glared his way. “You’ll do no such thing. Get in the car. If you go back to her now you’ll only lose the ground you gained when you kissed her. I’ll tell you what I know on the way.”

  He was only thirty years younger than she. And by the time one hit their two-century mark, the decades meant less and less. But she was every bit his mother. Even though he outranked all but less than a dozen Vampires on the planet, Clive sighed and gave over to her, sliding in after her, letting the door close behind him.

  As they pulled away, she turned on music and he cringed and wished he had earplugs.

  “If we listen to music I won’t be able to hear you tell me what the hell went on with you and Rowan before I arrived.”

  She bounced in her seat a little as she sang along for a bit. “Not until this song is over. You know how much I love this one.”

  He studiously avoided the driver’s eyes in the rearview.

  Finally, she finished her rousing sing along to Yaz and settled back into her seat.

  Clive turned his body toward her. “Start at the beginning.”

  “I pretended to be a rather terrible version of me to see just how Rowan would handle it.”

  Stunned to silence, he blinked as she continued.

  “I dug in the back of my closet, found some of my old favorites from the eighties, the 1980s, I mean, and headed to your house to take her measure.”

  Clive started to interrupt but she sent him a look that told him she’d be very dissatisfied if he did, so he kept it shut.

 
“I was awful. I clung to her. Spoke in a baby voice. Threatened to announce your marriage to her to the social elite Vampires here in London. Insulted her taste. The usual.”

  His mother stopped speaking as they pulled into a lot where another car waited.

  “You had that human in the car. We can’t be certain he didn’t leave a tracker or some sort of spell,” the driver explained before Clive could ask. “I had another car brought here so we can swap. Once I’m convinced it’s clear, I’ll switch it back.”

  “I like this new driver your father foisted on me,” his mother said over her shoulder as they transferred to the waiting car while the other was whisked away somewhere else.

  He sincerely doubted anyone foisted anything on Antonia without her consent. She knew what a terrible driver she was and it was far easier to have someone else deal with traffic and parking so she went along with it. That the driver was clearly a well-trained bodyguard was a bonus. Clive wished Rowan would allow such a thing.

  He smiled to himself in the dark. She didn’t like to feel confined or controlled, his Hunter.

  “You were about to tell me why it is you’d go out of your way to make sure my wife doesn’t like you.”

  “Being the mate of a Scion is an important position. I wanted to see if she could handle it. It takes a certain type of person to do it justice.”

  “She grew up at the knee of The First. You have no idea what she’s endured and how well she’s trained. She understands our world better than most Vampires do. I don’t take kindly to her being made to feel unwelcome or unappreciated. Moreover, she has her own life. Her own job to do. She’s so much more than my wife. She’ll never be one for parties and social climbing. I knew that when I chose her.”

  “I haven’t seen you this upset over something since you were just a boy.” She waved a hand. “Quit it this instant. I won’t apologize for it. She earned my respect. As for the human she was about to torture, he was following her and has information she needs. I blew my cover—as they say—when I offered to help her with him. Which is the whole story from the beginning and here we are. Come inside to say hello to your father.”