Page 29 of Royal Protector

“What’s going on?” I ask, thankful to see the boy alive.

Bastien shakes his head; his red waves are slicked back with sweat. “It was a clusterfuck. Eight vampires broke in and set off two smoke bombs, one near each exit. By the time it was all said and done, the only ones dead were the attackers.”

“Everyone survived?” I say, eyes widening.

He nods, rubbing at a bruise on his arm. “Don’t get me wrong. There are a lot of messed up people back there. Both vampires and werewolves. But the thing is, these weren’t soldiers or anything. I think all they were supposed to do was cause some chaos, a few injuries, and be done with it.” He frowns. “By the look of their eyes, they were all on something strong.”

I rub at my hairline. I dealt with magical herb smuggling all the time in Los Angeles, but I thought I’d left that behind. “So whoever did this just ordered a bunch of junkies to make a mess?”

“That’s what Jack thinks,” Bastien says. “Leo too. The only thing we can’t figure out is why.”

“You said all the attackers were vampires?” He nods, and I continue. “Maybe it was a set-up. Maybe whoever sent them wanted the vampires to look bad.”

“Who would even do that?” scowled Bastien. “Another vampire? Or one of ours?”

“Hell if I know,” I shake my head. “But if it’s another rogue group, then we’ve got a whole mess on our hands.”

Isabella starts to stir and instantly spots Bastien when her eyes blink open. With a cry of surprise, she throws her arms around his neck, knocking him from his crouch onto the cement. Bastien’s eyes fill with shock, and he tentatively pats her back.

“Are you hurt?” she asks, pulling back and examining him for injuries. With anyone else, I might be jealous, but Bastien looks terrified by Isabella’s proximity.

“Let the boy be,” I grumble, pulling her back. “He’s had a long night.”

“We all have,” she declares, standing and stretching with a wince. I do the same, annoyed by the ache in my back from sitting on the ground but thankful because it could have been so much worse tonight. “Can we go back to the village now?”

Bastien also stands. “Leo had some spare vehicles at the building.” He grimaces, looking down at his oversized clothes. “And some extra clothes. Mine were covered in too much blood for me to be walking around the city looking for you.” He smiles at me for the first time tonight, holding up a set of car keys. “I picked the most expensive car in the lot to borrow, by the way.”

I start to laugh, and Isabella joins in. But, despite my relief that everyone is somewhat safe, as we walk out of the alleyway to the black BMW waiting for us, I feel like this is the last time we’ll laugh for a long time.

ANTOINE

When Isabella and I walk into the hotel conference room the next morning, instead of the organized tables and chairs, peaceful continental breakfast, and early-morning conversations, the delegates have separated into two groups—vampires on one side and werewolves on the other.

The only people that dare to cross whatever invisible line has been set between them are Jack and Leo, but even they are inching closer to their respective people.

Isabella and I stand in the doorway, watching the mutinous faces of the delegates. I honestly don’t think it is safe enough to bring her inside, not with tensions this high. And if whoever sent those vampires last night is in this room, then we are all in trouble.

“I don’t even know which side to stand on,” whispers Isabella with a sad tone in her voice. “This isn’t quite how peace treaty negotiations are supposed to go.”

“I think all that was thrown out when we were attacked in the middle of dinner,” I say to her. “Let’s just stand here and watch and see what Jack and Leo do.”

Jack and Leo look exhausted as hell. Both are standing on their own two feet, but Leo has his arm in a sling, and Jack has a giant gash down the side of his face that is only half healed. Both have huge dark circles under their eyes, and even sunshiny Leo is leaning against the wall for support.

“There is no point continuing these negotiations,” says one of the Alpha werewolves, a woman from Tennessee. “Someone on their side,” she points angrily at the vampires, “sent those vampires to kill us last night. They trapped us in that room under the pretense of sharing tradition, and look where it got us.”

She glares at Leo. “You’re damn lucky none of our people died because none of you would be standing here now if so.”

“Sheila . . .” Jack pleads, but Leo silences him with a wave of his good arm.

He steps into the center between the two groups, running his furtive gaze over all of them. “I want everyone to know in this room that the attack last night on our banquet was not sanctioned by me or any of the other alpha vampires.”

Sheila scoffs, returning to her place on the werewolf side of the room.

Leo watches her until she is settled, then continues. “None of the vampires from last night are from any family represented by an Alpha here today. They were most likely rogue, unbonded to a family. In addition, all eight were under the influence of belladonna and wolfsbane.”

My fists clench at this new fact. When distilled together, Wolfsbane and belladonna have many of the same attributes as modern-day methamphetamines. Those vampires were high as a kite, pumped full of drugs and false adrenaline. Likely, they were so far gone that they probably didn’t even feel any pain as they were killed.

“Furthermore,” Leo says, his voice hoarse. “We have promised our help to Alpha Jack to hunt down whoever instigated this event by hiring those vampires. This will take cooperation from both groups. I ask that you have a little faith in us so that we can bring the perpetrators to justice.”

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