Bad Boy Prince: A British Royal Stepbrother Romance (37 page)

BOOK: Bad Boy Prince: A British Royal Stepbrother Romance
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“And Pere Mal probably kept you for the latter, I imagine.”

“I believe he’s found use in both types, but yes.”

“So why hasn’t he just made you summon the name of the Third Light?”

“It’s very difficult to summon prophecies on things that are not yet meant to be known. Fate has a way of keeping things contained.”

Gabriel shot her a look of consternation.

“That doesn’t explain it,” he said.

“Summoning a vision requires a sacrifice. The greater the request, the greater the sacrifice. Pere Mal was willing to be patient in exchange for only making smaller sacrifices, giving his blood, offerings of fatted calves, that kind of thing. He was not ready to make the kind of sacrifice that would be required to find the Third Light. Not yet, anyway.”

“Ah,” Gabriel murmured, nodding. “I suppose that makes us lucky to have gotten to you first, before he found a sacrifice he was willing to make.”

“Is that the only reason?” Cassie asked, hurt.

“Cassie,” Gabriel said, moving closer and snagging her hand.

His touch spread a fission of heat over Cassie’s flesh, and when Gabriel tugged her hand to pull her closer, she couldn’t resist. She tipped her head back and stared up into Gabriel’s face, interest stirring low in her body as she watched his eyes darken with the same hunger she felt.

Though the swirling desire between them was growing too fast, the kiss happened oh, so slowly. Gabriel pinned her arm behind her, pressing their laced fingers to her lower back. Their bodies came together, making Cassie’s body tighten and her toes curl with anticipation.

Gabriel traced a fingertip from her collarbone to her jaw, his expression something akin to wonder. When he lifted her jaw with that same fingertip and his eyes dropped to her mouth, Cassie’s lips parted in invitation.

Gabriel leaned down and brushed his mouth over hers, a burning tease. He pulled back and hesitated before returning. When he finally kissed her, their lips found each other as if nothing could be more natural, more right.

Gabriel’s tongue touched Cassie’s, lighting a fire deep inside her, and she slid her free hand up to his neck, knotting her fingers in his hair. Gabriel made a soft, low sound that made Cassie’s knees weak, and she nipped his lower lip. Her eyes closed and she sighed, leaning into him, wanting.

A heartbeat later, Gabriel released her and stepped back, looking troubled. Cassie’s eyes snapped open, her fingers flying up to her swollen lips. She saw the fear written plain on Gabriel’s face, and it felt like a slap.

A humorless chuckle escaped her throat and Cassie shook her head.

“Okay,” she said, almost to herself. “Obviously you’re not ready for this.”

She whirled and headed for the back door, scowling when she saw that the tuxedoed servant was watching from the window.

“Cass, wait! Where are you going?” Gabriel asked, following her.

“To find my friend Alice. You guys only saved one girl out of dozens, and I don’t see you rushing to rescue the others. If you’re not going to do it, I will,” she said.

“We should talk to Rhys and Aeric, come up with a plan,” Gabriel said. “You don’t even know where she is!”

“No, but I think I know who I can ask,” Cassie said, flinging the door open and stomping inside. “I have sources. And you can quit being all manly protector man on me. I assure you, I can take care of myself. ”

She stopped dead, realizing that she didn’t know how to get out of the house. When the tuxedoed man arched a brow and pointed toward the far side of the vast living area, Cassie gave him a begrudging nod.

“You’ve been a prisoner for four years. How can you have
sources
?” Gabriel demanded to know.

Cassie shot him a glare over her shoulder and headed for the Manor’s front foyer, not pausing until she was out the front door. She walked down the broad marble front steps and looked around, getting her bearings.

“Where are we, Esplanade?” she asked.

“Yes, but—” Gabriel tried.

Cassie turned and looked at him.

“Are you coming or not?” she asked.

Without waiting for an answer, she headed out to the street, intending to hail a taxi.

4

G
abriel suppressed
a groan as he watched the flame-haired vixen stomp down the Manor’s front steps. He wanted nothing less than to spend time with her, let himself get closer to another woman, one more person for him to fail. Maybe it was that Cassie’s fiery temperament reminded him of his sister Caroline’s intolerance for foolishness. Maybe it was only their gender; maybe he was being
sexist
, an amusing new word he’d learned in one of the night classes he’d taken at Tulane University.

The concept of sexism was definitely more modern than Gabriel himself, but he understood it well enough. He supposed he didn’t have a problem with Cassie or Caroline or any other woman, exactly. He merely knew that he was never able to do right by them, so he avoided anything longer than a few hours’ pleasure.

He’d racked up many, many hours of pleasure since his arrival in New Orleans, but that was neither here nor there… Especially looking at Cassie, dressed in that alluring ankle-length sapphire skirt and tight white dress shirt, her fiery red hair spilling down her back. If Gabriel had spotted her at one of the Kith clubs, mate or no mate, he’d have done almost anything to take her home.

A Yellow Cab pulled up at the curb, and Gabriel trotted down the steps. He slammed his hand onto the door before Cassie could open it, ignoring her furious glare.

“At least let me drive you,” he said. “One of our cars is parked across the street.”

He pointed to the sleek black SUV sitting only a few hundred feet away, and to his relief Cassie relented.

“Fine,” she said, her mouth pressed into a tight frown. She waved the taxi on, looking impatient.

“Let me grab the keys from Duverjay,” Gabriel said. At her puzzled look, he clarified, “The butler. In the suit and tails?”

Cassie rolled her eyes and walked back into the Manor’s front yard, plopping down on a marble bench to wait. Gabriel knew he’d made her well and truly angry, but he’d be damned if he knew what to do about it. He couldn’t very well apologize for his feelings about mating, could he? No matter how full her lips might be, how sexy her wide gray eyes…

As he fetched the keys from the Manor’s foyer, he wondered if it wasn’t better that she remain angry. Gabriel intended to keep distance between them, and what better way than to let nature take its course?

Before he left the Manor, he grabbed a
go-bag
from the foyer. It lacked a sword, his favored weapon, but it did have several weapons and some money, just in case.

“Alright,” Gabriel said as he rejoined Cassie. He unlocked the car and went around to open her door, trying not to smirk at her suspicious expression. He tossed the bag in the back seat and climbed into the driver’s seat, frowning as he crammed his lanky frame into the car.

“Never will get used to autos,” he sighed as he pulled the car out onto Esplanade.

“I had a car for a few years, back when I was a teenager. A junky little subcompact. Your legs and that car would not mix well,” Cassie said. “You would’ve had to ride in the back seat or something.”

“Let’s not find out. Where are we going, by the way?” Gabriel asked.

“Jackson Square,” Cassie said.

Gabriel blinked, surprised by her answer. Right in the center of the French Quarter lay the St. Louis Cathedral, one of the city’s oldest tourist attractions. Before the grand church lay a miniature park, surrounded on all sides by restaurants and art galleries and retail shops. Crammed into the empty spaces were artists, hot dog and snoball vendors, chess grandmasters offering lessons, street performers, and every other kind of merchant imaginable – Jackson Square.

Gabriel had expected Cassie’s sources to be in the Gray Market, the vast underground paranormal market hidden from human view. If not there, then in some other venue that served the Kith, the supernatural community.

“You wanted to come,” Cassie said, turning to look out the window. “Parking is going to be a nightmare, you know.”

“Despite the usual traffic conditions in the French Quarter, the Guardians can park anywhere they want,” Gabriel said archly.

That got Cassie’s attention.

“I thought no one was immune from New Orleans parking tickets,” she said. “They’re unavoidable, like death and taxes.”

Gabriel gave a wry smile.

“We have friends in every level of New Orleans government. I assure you, the service we provide the city more than makes up for a few parking tickets.”

She merely sighed as Gabriel navigated to a parking spot only a block from the Cathedral. As soon as he’d parked, Cassie seemed to make a point of getting out of the car before he could come around and open the door for her.

Gabriel looked to the skies, trying to summon patience. Of course fate would give him a modern, independent female for a mate, someone who wouldn’t just accept his will. Rubbing a hand over his face, Gabriel hurried to catch up with Cassie.

“Are we getting a snoball?” Gabriel asked, making a joke about a snow cone derivative that locals adored.

“I mean, you can,” Cassie said. “I’m going to see Madame Marquis.”

“Madame who?”

Cassie led him into Jackson Square. The park was surrounded by a twenty-foot-tall wrought iron fence, around which most of the vendors were congregated. Cassie approached a woman sitting in a camping chair, moving tarot cards around a small table draped in black satin. A massive banner hung on the fence behind her, proclaiming, “Madame Marquis — Fortunes $5/10 minutes”.

“Ah,” Gabriel said, trying to keep the disappointment from his face. From Cassie’s eye roll, he’d likely not accomplished it. To his credit, the Madame looked ridiculous; she was a sixty year old Caucasian woman decked out in full ‘gypsy’ costume, billowing scarves and skirts, a ring on each finger. She also wore a dubious-looking dark hairstyle that Gabriel was fairly certain must be a wig.

“Don’t offend her, she’s very emotional,” Cassie warned him before he could comment.

Gabriel couldn’t help but notice the way that the fortune teller shot to her feet when Cassie approached.

“Oracle!” the seer gasped, eyes darting around and landing on Gabriel. Her expression turned from shock to curiosity after a moment. “And a Guardian?”

“Yes, Madame,” Cassie said, stepping closer and offering a handshake. She flipped back her thick curtain of red hair. “Can we sit with you for a moment?”

“Of course, Oracle,” Madame said, thrusting two canvas chairs in their direction. “Sit, sit.”

“How did the cards work for you?” Cassie asked casually, ignoring the other woman’s obvious nervous excitement. To Gabriel, she explained, “I handle her cards, make them more accurate.”

“Wonderful, wonderful,” Madame said, licking her lips and settling into her chair. She gathered the colorful tarot cards splayed out across the table into a neat stack, flipping them facedown. Madame’s hand crept out to caress a huge crystal ball, her gaze flicking back and forth between the ball and Cassie, hungry.

“I need two things from you, Madame. In exchange, I can influence your cards again, and the seer’s ball if you want,” Cassie offered. As she spoke, she peeled off her right hand glove, staring at Madame as if challenging the woman to remark upon Cassie’s scars.

To Gabriel’s surprise, the other woman didn’t seem to notice them. Her excitement for Cassie’s gift was simply too great to be affected by Cassie’s looks. In that moment, he realized that when it came to Cassie’s scars, her anxiety over others’ reactions was much greater than the reality.

When Cassie took off her left glove, Madame’s eyes lit up for a moment, then dimmed.

“Pere Mal will come,” Madame said, a little sadly. “He will know you’ve been here, I can’t do anything about that.”

“Of course not, I wouldn’t ask you to tell him such a big lie,” Cassie said, running her fingertips over the satin tablecloth. “You can tell him I was here, but I do want you to leave out my friend, here. Pere Mal will know that I’m with the Guardians soon enough, he doesn’t need your help.”

Cassie raised a questioning brow at Madame, who let out a pent-up breath.

“Yes, yes,” the seer said, pushing the cards toward Cassie. Cassie moved to pick them up, then stopped.

“There’s something else I need,” Cassie said.

Gabriel watched the exchange with some fascination. For a woman who had supposedly lived in captivity for several years, Cassie was extremely socially adept. Growing up on the streets of London, Gabriel had known fishwives who’d have been jealous his pretty redheaded mate’s bargaining skills.

He scowled, thoughts thrown off track.
Mate
, that insidious word. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking that way. His bear rose a fraction, letting Gabriel know his displeasure at Gabriel’s refusal to take Cassie on the spot, mark her and claim her for their own.

“—need you to tell me how to find someone,” Cassie was saying when Gabriel fought his way back to the present conversation. “Someone who’s being kept, as I was.”

“Ohhhh,” Madame murmured, watching Cassie’s fingers dance across the tabletop. “Oracle, I do not know such things…”

Cassie seemed to consider that for a moment, then she made as if to rise.

“If you can’t help me—” Cassie started.

“No, no! Wait, wait,” the seer said, dropping her voice to a whisper. “I know who you might ask, Oracle. Only, do not leave.”

“I’m listening,” Cassie said, reaching out and picking up the tarot deck. She gave the cards a couple of soft strokes, then gave Madame Marquis a glance.

“There is a man, a very bad man,” Madame said, looking a little pale. “Ciprian Asangel. He is third rung on the Vampires’ social ladder, he will know something.”

“Interesting,” Cassie said. She closed her eyes and seemed to focus on the cards for a few moments. Opening her eyes again, she set the cards aside. “Tell me where to find him, and I will energize the crystal ball.”

Madame licked her lips again, regaining some of her color.

“You know the bar Bellocq?” the seer asked. “He runs the Kith portion, the bolt-hole in the booth furthest from the door.”

“I’ve been there,” Cassie said.

Gabriel was a little surprised to hear that, since Bellocq was something of a swanky hook-up bar. He’d never actually been inside, but he knew the place’s reputation well enough. Both the human and Kith portions sort of oozed wealth and sex, and some part of him hated the idea of Cassie spending time there.

He watched silently as Cassie reached out and did her mumbo jumbo on the crystal ball.

“Thank you, Oracle,” Madame said.

“Remember our bargain, okay?” Cassie said.

“Yes, yes,” the seer agreed, though her gaze jumped straight to Gabriel.

“A penny for your thoughts, Madame?” Gabriel asked.

Madame Marquis looked between Gabriel and Cassie for several moments, then slowly shook her head.

“I can read your cards, Guardian, but I can’t tell you the Oracle’s future.”

Gabriel frowned, ready to question her further, but Cassie jumped to her feet and interrupted, pulling on her gloves.

“Okay, we should be going. Don’t want to keep Madame from her customers,” Cassie said, giving Gabriel a meaningful look.

“Yes, yes. Thank you, Oracle,” Madame Marquis said, rising and giving Cassie another wide-eyed handshake.

Gabriel let Cassie tow him away by the hand, wondering what Cassie could possibly have to hide.

“Where am I going to get something to wear to Bellocq?” Cassie wondered aloud as she pulled him back toward the car. Gabriel ignored the warmth that filled his chest at her simple, innocent touch, turning his mind to her words.

“We have your suitcases. Well, we have a couple dozen suitcases, and some of them are presumably yours,” Gabriel said. “But you won’t need anything to wear to Bellocq, because you aren’t going.”

Cassie stopped dead in her tracks, pushing his hand away, and glared at him.

“Is that right?” she asked, her tone flat.

“The Guardians will go. This is our job, Cass.”

“First of all,” Cassie said, raising a single finger to draw his attention. “Don’t Cass me.”

Gabriel had to hold back a wince at her angry tone.

“Second of all, you don’t tell me where I go or don’t go. One little kiss doesn’t give you dominion over me.”

Gabriel sighed.

“It’s not personal. We wouldn’t let Duverjay or Mere Marie go, either.”

Cassie snorted.

“I’d like to see you give Mere Marie orders. It’s pretty clear that she’s wearing the pants in that house.”

Gabriel puzzled over that for a moment, but Cassie continued.

“I’d also like to point out that you’re not getting in the friggin’ door of Bellocq without me. Maybe the human side, just because you’re all handsome, but the Kith side is tightly controlled.”

“And you happen to know the secret password?” Gabriel asked, cocking his head.

“I know the bouncers, which is better.”

“And exactly how do you know them?”

“None of your business. Remember my first point?” Cassie asked, seeming to lose what little patience she had left.

“Okay, well how have you been drinking at Bellocq and kept prisoner at the same time?” Gabriel challenged, crossing his arms.

“Pere Mal needs to show off all his assets. He does a lot of favor trading, and he needs to let people know just what he’s packing. I’m one of the biggest assets he has, or had. He took me out a few times a month to show me off.”

“And why didn’t you just escape? Climb out a window or something?”

Something in Cassie’s expression hardened.

“I did, the second time he took me out. I slipped out of a VIP room and ran back to my parents.”

“And he kidnapped you again, under your parents’ noses?” Gabriel asked, bewildered. Surely a witch as strong as Cassie had come from two powerful magicians, strong enough to protect their child from harm.

Cassie gave a cold laugh, tossing her hair back. She pushed up one of her sleeves, showing Gabriel hundreds of intricate white scars at her wrists and inner elbow.

“Who do you think sold me to him in the first place? Worse, actually. They sold me before I could access my full powers. They thought I was weak, so they sold me to a vampire in the Gray Market. Before I was the Oracle, I was a blood slave.”

BOOK: Bad Boy Prince: A British Royal Stepbrother Romance
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