Page 137 of Taken

“Thank you,” she whispered. She closed her eyes and a few seconds later was asleep.

Xavier gathered up the towels, basin and supplies.

“Bring me a glass of the merlot,” I told him. “No, bring the whole bottle. And some cheeseburgers—rare. I’m hungry as fuck.”

He nodded. “What about a thrall? You look like hell.”

A thrall? My fangs pricked at my gums and my mouth watered. I needed fresh blood, bad.

I reluctantly shook my head. “Better not risk it.”

“Leave it to me. I’ll get Sierra—offer her triple her usual rate and put her up here for a few days. But I’ll have to tell the team you’re here.”

I hesitated, but I needed to feed. “All right, but don’t tell them about Tina.” I indicated Ridley, using her current alias. I trusted Xavier like a brother, but the less people who knew her identity, the better. “And if anyone leaks that I’m here, I will personally send them to their final grave.”

“Don’t worry. They’ll keep quiet.”

I sat back on the chair, legs stuck out in front of me, and considered the sleeping woman. So Ridley No-Last-Name was a princess—and someone wanted her dead.

I pursed my lips. “You’ve been keeping secrets, badass.”

If she really were a princess—and why would George have lied?—that meant her father was a primus. And my bet was on Leo de Froulay.

I considered her pale hair and delicate features. Why hadn’t de Froulay claimed her? The man didn’t have a mate who might object to Ridley. He didn’t even have an heir of his bloodline.

I massaged the bridge of my nose. “But that’s not the biggest problem here, is it?”

First we had to figure out who had put out the hit on us. My father? Slayers, Inc.? Or someone else altogether? Because how the hell would my father or SI know Ridley was a princess?

Xavier arrived to inform me the food was ready. I nodded and with a last glance at the sleeping Ridley, followed him down the hall to the main part of the loft.

The kitchen table was a one-of-a-kind piece I’d bought from a Maryland woodworker who’d cut up two old oak doors into rectangles of different sizes and fit them back together into one large rectangle. I pulled out the steel chair in front of a platter of cheeseburgers and sat down. Xavier took the seat opposite and sipped a blood-wine while I started on the first burger.

“So I take it you know what went down at the Garnet last night,” I said between bites.

He nodded. “Victorine Tremblay was staked when she attacked your father. Mraz got caught in the cross-fire.”

I stopped eating to stare at him. “That’s the official story?”

“Yeah. You know different?”

I shook my head and took a gulp of blood-wine. “I was there, but not in the restaurant. I was watching from a roof across the street. I got word that Father and Rafe were meeting with Victorine and her daughter, and I—”

I stopped short of saying I’d been there to stake my father before he could kill Rafe. Some things Xavier was better off not knowing.

“I was there to help if I could,” I said instead. “I don’t trust Victorine.”

“Well, she’s not a problem anymore, is she?” He flashed a white, sharp-toothed grin.

“No.” I stared at him. “She’s not, is she?”

In all the excitement, I’d almost forgotten. The prima had always been out there, the woman who wanted me and my brothers dead.

At least something good had come of last night.

“So where the hell have you been?” he asked. “And why couldn’t anyone get in touch with you?”

“First I was in a fucking cell in Paris and then I was holed up recovering from what the bastards did to me. Since then I’ve basically been dark.”

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