Invisible Recruit: Invisible Power Part 31

"I hereby recommend Pdraig Byrne to a.s.sume the seat recently vacated by Philippe Cheverill."

Cristobal made it sound as if Philippe had stepped outside as opposed to having been murdered and Jeb found the tightness in his jaw increasing. Fortunately the clapping of the Zinzin, the Kuoura Demon and Breena McShay, the Celtic witch kept the attention on everyone front and center.

"And the vote?" Jeb hadn't realized he'd spoken the question aloud. He looked at Pdraig's raised brow expression as he t.i.tled his head and added, "It's tradition." A quick glance at Cristobal who was not pleased. "You do not wish any rumors of improper procedures being raised at a later date. That could put Pdraig's position in jeopardy." And yours too, remained unstated.

Maybe he should not have raised the issue. But the last thing Philippe would have wanted was whatever turmoil gripped the Council to spill over to the larger world of preternaturals. Their existence was challenging enough.

And Philippe believed in his protege, even if Jeb still harbored some doubts. Especially now, at the rapidity of the druid stepping into a position of power with less vetting than one hired a clerk at a convenience store.

"Our shaman member does have a valid point," Tintilla conceded, fluttering one hand though she was not usually given to such gestures. "Propriety matters in such times."

By throwing the vampire's words back at him the fae deepened the rift between her kind and the nightwalker's kind, not that there was any chance they'd see eye-to-eye.

"So shall it be." Cristobal's words sounded like chewed gla.s.s. "Pdraig, if you will leave us for a moment." He did not wait for the druid to leave before he added, "And you too Jebediah."

All gazes snapped to Jeb who focused on the vampire. Even Pdraig hesitated at the door leading to the other room.

Jeb asked, "Because?"

The smile wreathing Cristobal's face was obscene in its smugness. "Why, I would have thought that was obvious, Jebediah." He spread his palms to include the rest of the table. "Since your daughter is accused of involvement in Philippe's murder it would not be right for you to have any say in Council business."

How neatly Jeb had been maneuvered and hog-tied. He'd never seen it coming.

He rose without a word. No protesting Alex's innocence. No justification. And no need to tell Cristobal he would rue the day he uttered those words.

Following Pdraig's path Jeb joined the young man but Cristobal wasn't finished yet.

"Oh, Jebediah," He said. Jeb did not turn around but did pause. "You really must do something about those sp.a.w.n of yours before they cost you your position on the Council."

He did not reply but closed the door softly behind him. The vampire had overstretched himself and Jeb would be pleased to make sure he paid for his smugness.

CHAPTER 61.

Bran drove the luxury car through the outskirts of Paris, navigating the morning traffic with the ease and competence with which he did everything. In the silence of the car I wanted to scream. Couldn't he at least act like a fallible human at times?

Willie had been talking nonstop, an obvious nervous habit and a vast contrast to my own silence. I hadn't slept a wink last night, or what had been left of the early morning and now, being trapped in a vehicle with a loquacious Were, a quiet didi-shifter and a tense warlock wasn't doing anything for my nerves.

Francois had said the trip should take less than an hour, depending on commuter traffic, that we should be there soon but with each kilometer the strain was increasing. And here I thought it'd started at an impossible level. Silly me.

Willie had just launched into a description of the architecture and historical trivia behind the building of Versailles when Francois spoke at last. "Willie!"

"What?"

"Shut up."

I actually felt sorry for the Were. At least he was trying. I was looking for something to ease Francois's b.i.t.c.h slap when Bran's phone rang.

He answered with a curt, "Bran. Yes. Yes. I'll be there." Then he hung up.

My stomach tumbled and I was glad I hadn't had anything more than a small cup of coffee for breakfast. Right now even that seemed iffy.

Bran, being Bran and a close-mouthed b.a.s.t.a.r.d right then, said nothing more.

I flexed my hands against my jeans. "Well?"

He glanced my way. "It's all set."

Since I was not going to grovel for information I bit my tongue and waited until he navigated the car into a parking area that looked like stadium parking with a tournament in progress. As I stepped out of the car into a wash of early morning air holding a bite I suddenly realized what we were up against. "There are so many cars."

And buses, tour buses and school-type buses and enough cars to knock the breath from me. By the Great Spirits how could there be so many people at Versailles? How were we going to find Van and stop him with these crowds? "Isn't there anything else to do in France except visit here?" I asked, stunned by the enormity of the task.

Bran gave me a suck-it-up look. Leave it to a warlock to be all warm and fuzzy while I was falling apart.

Francois stepped in to snap me back to reality. "Bran, exactly where is the meeting set?"

"Le Pet.i.t Trianonat," came the short reply, like a name meant anything.

Francois again came to my rescue, snagging my arm and tugging me along. "Not to worry. We're still in low season which means Le Pet.i.t Trianonat will not open to the crowds until noon."

"And Le Pet.i.t Trianonat is what exactly?"

"The chateau built for Marie Antoinette. As an escape."

That last part sounded perfect about then, but Noziaks were not lightweights. I gave Francois a wobbly smile and double-timed it to keep up with Bran's long-legged stride until he stopped in the lee of a three-story building.

"Is that it?" I whispered though there was no need to. It was as if I didn't want to disturb the old spirits that floated through the area. Mandy as a Spirit Walker would be driven crazy here, so many unhappy ghosts wandering I'm surprised there was any room for humans.

But there they were, walking around with cameras, paper guide books and attached earphones leading them from garden spot to garden spot.

"I'll head in, a little early, " Bran said as if to himself.

"Probably better than late with those guys," Willie said, then threw me a quick glance. "Sorry, Alex. Not your father of course."

Of course.

I didn't bother with a response as King Bran was busy dictating. "Everyone knows what they're supposed to do and where they're supposed to be?" Francois and Willie nodded. When I didn't fall into line he added, "Alex?"

"I know what you want me to do." There, it was as close as I could come to not outright telling him where he could take his plan and stuff it.

According to the Almighty Warlock I was to go with Willie; as a recovering Were he'd be staying far away from any fighting but he could handle babysitting. Me being the one who needed caretaking. Francois was going to shift into one of his dog personas and literally sniff around for Van. When he found my brother he'd alert Bran. Not me, because I would be too busy twiddling my thumbs waiting until I was given the all-clear signal.

As if.

Bran nodded at Francois who headed in one direction as Willie stepped away. He really did have an aversion to fireworks.

Me not so much. I held my ground even as Bran stepped closer, having the audacity to put his hands on my shoulders as if I needed to be restrained.

And here I thought I was doing well, only giving him a what-the-h.e.l.l glance instead of ripping his arms off.

"We went over this in detail last night," Bran said, impatience straining his voice and darkening his eyes until they almost looked black. It was a s.e.xy look for him, but then all Bran's looks were s.e.xy. Focus, Alex, back to the issue at hand.

"No!" I wagged one finger at him. "You went over this last night as if I was a toddler who needed you to tell me what to do."

His hands tightened. Not enough to hurt me, which surprised me because I could read the restraint he was exerting in the tension of his jaw. If he were a shifter he'd be revealing fur already.

"The plan is solid," he said.

"Your plan is solid for your agenda," I bit off each word.

"Meaning?"

"You're using my brother to draw out Vaverek. And your plan does just that. Wait until Van is exposed, a.s.sume-" I inhaled a deep breath to repeat that last word. "a.s.sume that Vaverek will be nearby so you or Fido Francois can jump him."

"What's wrong with that? Your people want Vaverek as much as I do."

"Not quite." I stepped back. No longer able to stay still. I was standing in one of the world's biggest parks and I couldn't draw a breath of air. "You want Vaverek more than anything else. Including my brother's life." This time my finger stabbed his chest as I stepped forward and blinked to keep my eyes clear. "Maybe you're thinking if Van dies that will make up for Dominique's death some way. t.i.t for tat. But let me tell you, buster." My finger hit with each word. "I. Will. Not. Let. Van. Die."

He glared at me and I was surprised I didn't incinerate right there. "Have you ever considered I'm trying to keep you alive here?" his voice a low growl, his nostrils flared. "That I might actually have your interests at heart?"

"In your dreams." Emotions bubbled so close to the surface I kept expecting to spew fire. "If you did you would not have been so quick to suggest black magic as the 'only' way to find Van." I used my fingers for air quotes and to keep my hands from balling and beating against him.

"It was the only way," he snapped each word. "Of all the stupid, stubborn, pig-headed women I had to get involved with I got you."

"Me? This isn't about us. There is no us." He so did not fight fair. Men weren't supposed to throw things from the past into a fight. But obviously holier-than-thou Bran did not get the male-memo book. "There never was an us because you couldn't trust me a micro-inch. Still can't. Which is why you are shunting me off with Willie so the 'big boys' can handle the business."

He towered over me like a predator ready to strike. "Fine. Do it your way, but if you think for a minute I'm going to let Vaverek dance away while you're playing Sabrina the inept witch, think again."

"Oh." Now he'd really done it. I lowered my voice, which my brother could have told him meant hurricane gale force winds about to blow. "If I'm such a poor witch how come we're standing here right now?"

"Because I was told to be here and you were guaranteed to come along."

Okay, he did have a point, but that's not what I meant. I wasn't happy about his logic either. I got us here by breaking my rules and finding Van last night. Sure I might be a screw-up as a powerful witch, and we needed the GPS he'd saddled me with, but I had pulled a few spells out of my a.s.s and they'd worked. Could I repeat the process? Who knew? But I was still willing to do whatever I had to in order to save Van. If we caught Vaverek, that was a bonus.

I took a page from his playbook and switched tactics. "Fine, your Mage Majesty. You do what you need to do and I'll do what I need to do."

"And if you get killed?" He said it in such a flat of-course tone I was surprised I didn't haul off and hit him.

"That will save you the effort." I stood toe-to-toe with him and it took Willie clearing his throat several times for both of us to spin on him.

"What?"

"What now?"

He flared his hands then pointed behind us. "Sorry, but I think they're coming for you."

Bran and I both pivoted to see a delegation of three tall, thin individuals walking down the white gravel path toward us. Only they looked more like they were hovering just above the ground.

"Fae?" I whispered aloud.

"Simin fae," Bran said, all emotion leached from his voice.

Oh c.r.a.p. I'd heard of them. Think of the most benign looking of individuals, with lightning fast speed and tongues that made a whip look like a yarn ta.s.sel. Before most creatures could even think of taking flight one simin fae could have them la.s.soed and giftwrapped tighter than a crazy aunt's holiday package. But three?

Not that Bran was thinking of running. A quick glance out of the corner of my eye rea.s.sured me that he wasn't, which allowed me to start breathing again.

And that's when I realized what drove a lot of my anger. Not fear of him as much as fear for him.

This was a heck of a time to discover that.

Especially as I looked beyond the fae and saw Vaverek.

CHAPTER 62.

Jeb waited in the side room, releasing his anger with every breath he took because he knew anger could cloud his judgment and reason. Wheels within wheels were moving. He glanced at Pdraig with his shaman vision, not looking at the physical being but the spirit.

He hadn't expected to see much but what he did see was revealing. Or more specifically what he didn't see. Pdraig was a druid so knew how to cloak his spirit self. The old ones learned the ability to protect themselves when mages and black witches walked the world more freely. It was like covering a beacon with a cloth to not attract attention, or tamping down one's power until needed.

But there should be no need for Pdraig to cloak himself today. But he was, emitting only a small silver aura. Jeb could feel the hum from him, as if banking power and waiting. But why?

That was the piece Jeb struggled with. There was too much unknown.

When the door swung open to allow Jeb and Pdraig to re-enter the red salon Pdraig went first then paused as if realizing his presumption, his a.s.sumption that now he and Jeb were equals.

Jeb said nothing but waved the young man ahead. He a.s.sumed what had happened and was not surprised when Cristobal announced in sonorous tones as if speaking to a large a.s.sembly hall that Pdraig was accepted as the newest member of the Council.

Once again Jeb noticed what wasn't said so asked, "What was the vote tally?"

Cristobal flinched as if struck then tilted his head and shared, "Four for, one against."

Jeb didn't need to look at Tintilla but he sent a high-five thought in her direction. Wei Pei must have felt that a yay vote would earn him some allies but Jeb could have told him not to bother. There would be no reprieve from this group. It'd only be a matter of time before they found a way to replace Wei Pei or he met an untimely accident.

At least one question was answered for Jeb. This is why Philippe had to die. He was standing in the way of plans already in motion. Philippe had always been about building consensus and the need to act for the greater good. Jeb had agreed which is why his daughter was imprisoned. Saving her meant exposing too much to the humans.

But now? What did Cristobal want? Did he plan to use the less experienced Pdraig? Step into the role of a mentor as Philippe had been, not as a guide but as a manipulator. If Pdraig threw in his weight with the vampire, demon, and witch, no telling what trouble a block of four could brew. Wei Pei was like the bamboo stalk that would blow whichever way the wind demanded. Which left Tintilla and himself as the sole voices of reason.

This shift of power was accomplished so smoothly, so easily, it was clear it had been planned for a long time. Jeb's gut told him what had just transpired was the beginning of something larger, but he didn't know what.