“Come on, Layla. Throw us a bone.”
She laughed. “Right, because you’re living in squalor over there in France.”
“You know we’re not, but it’s fucking boring. You need us, we’re there.”
“I know. Look, I have to go. I just wanted to give you a head’s up. I’ll call tomorrow, give you the update. Give the boys and girls my love, and don’t drink too much wine.”
They hung up at the same time, as Layla swung her legs off the bed and shoved the phone into a pocket. She grabbed her leather portfolio with its supply of writing pads and pens, kissed her mother as she hurried through the living room, then marched off to her first meeting as the temporary daylight commander for Lord fucking Xavier.
Chapter Six
XAVIER LISTENED to the multiple conversations going on in his office, and longed for the days when no one expected or worried about democracy. Everyone around the table wanted their say, then wanted their say on the other guy’s say, and on and on. They all agreed on the basics, but each wanted their opinion to be the final word. And fuck, if he didn’t shut this down, he’d either start killing people, or walk out and leave them to it. The former would be more satisfying, but he’d probably lose some useful voices in the process. And in some cases, he might lose a lot more than that.
Like Layla. He liked her. Hell, he’d liked her a little too much before she went away to college, and had thought he’d kept it to himself. Until she’d come on to him. To this day, he regretted that night and the way he’d handled it. Though there’d been no good way. She’d been nineteen years old for fuck’s sake. He’d been too old even before he’d been made Vampire, and then . . . Well shit. She’d been about to begin the biggest adventure of her life, maybe even meet the man she’d marry, and have a family. That was what humans did.
While his plans at the time had all included crafting alliances and increasing his personal power in preparation for what he’d known, since the night he’d woken as a vampire, was his destiny. He’d been created to rule, to build beyond what any previous Spanish vampire lord had achieved. To rule all of Spain, not the fractured country it had been when his Sire ruled. And he’d done it. The human residents might fight over interior borders and rights, but those lines didn’t exist for Spain’s vampires. He ruled them all.
His ambitions didn’t end there, however. He was well-positioned to become the kingmaker of continental Europe. He’d met every one of his fellow vampire lords in the surrounding countries, and was stronger than any of them. He didn’t count Scotland’s Lachlan or Ireland’s Quinn in that calculation. They had their own countries, their own territories, but they also had strong links back to North America. He didn’t care overmuch, however. As long as they left the continent alone, he’d leave them alone.
But what he wanted for continental Europe was what Raphael had in North America. He wanted the strength of an alliance of vampire lords, the prosperity of peace between them. And the only way to achieve that was one country at a time, one neighbor at a time.
But now it seemed as though someone didn’t want him to succeed. He could think of no other explanation for this sudden outbreak of human hostilities against him. These guerilla-style tactics of attack and fade into the woods had to be more than a fresh wave of human hatred. There was something more behind it, someone more driving it. He had his suspicions, or more like a list of possible enemies. The problem was, it just didn’t seem logical for any of them to attack him directly. Maybe they would lobby the others, whisper against him, but his plan of alliance hadn’t gotten far enough to pose a real threat to anyone. And if he had his say about it, it never would. He didn’t want to conquer the other countries. He didn’t want to fight them at all. He wanted to be ready in the face of outside enemies. He wasn’t even sure they had outside enemies. Not yet. But ever since Mathilde had gathered her strongest vampires, then set out to destroy Raphael and put herself in his place, Raphael—who’d survived quite handily—had begun meddling in the affairs of European vampires.
He’d begun by killing Mathilde and every one of the vampires who’d left France with her. He’d then completed the destruction by visiting France and killing the strongest potential successors to her territory. And then he’d installed his own allies in Ireland and Scotland. If continental Europe’s vampire lords didn’t unite, any one of them could be next.
Except him. He had no intention of falling to any challenger. Not for a very long time.
His gaze strayed to the beautiful Layla. She could make a vampire’s life worth continuing. But only if he could get her to talk to him first. What was her problem anyway? She’d been gone more than ten years, had barely visited her parents, and then only in daytime so as to avoid him, he was certain. He hadn’t received a letter, or a postcard—not even in the first months after her departure when she might have written just to tell him to go fuck himself. In the deafening silence, he’d assumed with good reason that she’d moved past whatever feelings she’d had for him. It had scraped his ego some. He wasn’t usually forgotten that easily. But hadn’t he told himself that it was what he wanted for her? And really, there’d been nothing between them before that night. So why was she acting like he was the biggest villain in her life?
He shifted his gaze away from her, tuned back into the discussion, and finally said what he’d been thinking. “I think we agree on the basics. I’ll make the final decision in consultation with my commanders, including Layla Casales, whom I think you all know.” He glanced over with a smile for Layla, and she glared back at him. That was growing old.
“The detailed plan will be ready tomorrow night.” He stood, signaling that the meeting was over, then waited while there was a general shuffle toward the door, before saying, “Layla, could you hold back a moment, please?”
LAYLA FUMED PRIVATELY at the thinly veiled order for her to remain. It had been a while since she’d had a commanding officer, and she hadn’t missed it. But her father was watching, and he needed to know that she could do his job while he was gone. Otherwise, he wouldn’t go. His devotion to Xavier was that strong. So she kissed him on the cheek and said, “I’ll be up in a minute, Papa. We’ll brainstorm all of this before morning.”
He hugged her, then gave Xavier a respectful nod and walked out with Danilo, his new lieutenant who had skill and determination, but not a lot of experience. The younger woman had spoken little during the discussions, but she’d listened to everything and had taken more than a few notes. It was the right thing for a junior officer to do, and Layla had been impressed. She’d been impressed in an entirely different way to discover that Danilo was older than she looked. She’d served in both Iraq and Afghanistan with Spain’s UN forces, and was fluent in Arabic, German, and English, in addition to her native Spanish. The language skills might not be necessary to her job at the Fortalesa, but the English was handy, and linguistic ability spoke to a sharp mind and a receptive intellect. In fact, if Danilo ever tired of working for vampires, Layla would happily recruit her for her own team.