Luke and his security team escorted Mathis to the airport the next day. Mathis had decided to cut his trip short after his abduction and fortuitous rescue.
“Thank you for the loan of your bodyguards, Your Excellency,” Mathis said.
“You’re most welcome, though I wish to continue that loan. I doubt the goons we removed from the board were the leaders. I’d like to send Rhonda, Joe, and Johann with you to ensure the safety of you and your lovely wife.”
“That’s too generous, Your Excellency.”
Luke held up his hand to interrupt Mathis. “I won’t hear any argument. I’ll also have my man Jamaal meet my team so he can inspect your security systems to see if they’re up to snuff for the needs of an important man such as yourself.”
Mathis bowed his head. “I must extend my thanks again. Once again I find myself in your debt. I just hope the price isn’t too steep.”
“Don’t worry, my good man, I think I know how you can repay the favor.”
“Oh, how can I be of assistance?”
“I’m hoping you might be able to put me in touch with some people in the shipping business. I’m planning to increase my imports into Western Europe and am looking for a more consistent port option as well as a new intermodal shipping company. I’m sure there’d be a nice commission for anyone helping make an advantageous connection.” Luke pasted a knowing grin onto his face.
Mathis chuckled. “I might know a few people. When I get home, I’ll reach out on your behalf and see if I can secure a meeting.”
“Again, it was fortunate we met at that auction. I’d be very appreciative.” Luke shook hands with the man. “Travel safely.”
“You too, Your Excellency.”
Luke’s loaned security team fell in behind Mathis and escorted him to the private jet. Once they disappeared, Luke returned to the BMW and climbed into the back.
“Charlie, let’s go to Paris. We have a meeting with their packleader,” Luke said.
Ahmed laughed. “I can’t believe you talked him into letting Jamaal near his computers. You are one sneaky bastard, Luke.”
“I do have my moments.” Luke searched through his playlists for some road music.
“I’ve never been to Paris,” Jung-sook said. “It’s always been on my bucket list.”
“I don’t know how long we’ll be able to stay, but even a quick trip will be fun. Now if y’all don’t mind, I need to take care of some messages and cleanse my brain from interacting with Mathis.” He hit play on Led Zeppelin’s “Gallows Pole.”
* * *
Luke stood, his feet spread wide and his hands held behind his back, as the elevator lurched into motion, climbing toward the top of the Eiffel Tower.
“Are you sure this is a good idea, Lu—”
Jung-sook coughed, interrupting Ahmed.
“Your Excellency,” Ahmed corrected.
“They could have a bunch of people with guns,” Jung-sook added.
“That’s a chance we’ll take. The invitation seems genuine, and I think we can trust our host for the duration of this meeting. I’m a curiosity he wants to explore. All the same, we’ll be cautious when the elevator door opens. Until then, enjoy the view. It’s spectacular.”
He hoped his confidence would calm his bodyguards, though he did appreciate their caution. Their point was valid. This could be an elaborate setup, though the top of one of the most watched monuments in Paris seemed an unlikely place for such an assassination attempt. They simply needed to take the chance. Right now, they were a small resistance force operating in enemy territory with no reliable allies. Jean-Paul represented the largest pack in France and would allow a safe place to retreat if things went sideways in Belgium. If Luke could earn an alliance from the Parisian packleader, it could also mean more soldiers in his war against the vampires. As they neared the top, he shook himself from his internal world and prepared for whatever waited at the top.
The view was indeed spectacular as they rose up the Eiffel Tower to the top observation deck. The night was dry, and the wind at that height could be cutting, but Luke had brought his heavy wool trench coat. He’d be fine. He ignored Jung-sook and Ahmed as they quietly ran through what-ifs. They took their job seriously, which he appreciated. He tried to find a balance between hyper vigilance and appearing calm and in character as the Comte de Maubeuge.
When they reached the top, the doors opened. A barrel-chested man waited on the other side wearing a heavy overcoat.
“Your Excellency.” The man gave a small bow.
“Jean-Paul, it’s good to see you again.” Luke shook the man’s hand.
“Your Excellency, your coat?” Ahmed held up Luke’s coat so he could slide into it.
“I approve of your choice of meeting spots,” Luke said, stepping up next to Jean-Paul as they strolled onto the observation deck.
“The sight is most lovely, and with the deck cleared of tourists, private,” Jean-Paul replied, stretching his arm out to encompass the view of Paris below. “Welcome to Paris, Your Excellency.”
“Please, call me Pierre,” Luke replied.
Jean-Paul chuckled. “Are you sure that’s a wise idea with your ferocious bodyguards lurking about? I wouldn’t want to insult you and incur their wrath.”
“They know I’m an informal man.” Luke clasped his hands behind his back as they walked along the edge of the observation deck.
“As you wish, Pierre.”
“So…you’ve got me here on very little pretext, but I was curious, and always appreciate a reason to visit Paris.”
“Ah, this isn’t your first trip?” Jean-Paul seemed disappointed.
“It is not. However, this is my first time at the top of the Eiffel Tower. Thank you for arranging it.”
“Well, right to the point, I can appreciate that in a man. The reason I invited you here was mostly curiosity, and the chance to share this view with one of France’s newest Comtes.” He held up his hand, likely to forestall any comments he thought Luke might make about the application of the word “newest.” “I know the title goes back a long way in your family, and before that, but merely your recent choice to pursue a more full exploration of your heritage.”
Luke nodded.
“When that little snot Heinen crowed about bringing a Comte to the game, I was curious. Then I met you, and my curiosity only grew. What kind of American businessman and French Comte uses werewolves for bodyguards?” He turned to look at Luke. “Not even going to pretend shock?” He laughed. “Again, you create more curiosity. With each question I answer, two more spring up in its place. Then you swiftly and decisively rescue Mathis from one of his many enemies. You are indeed a mystery wrapped inside an enigma.”
“Being a man of mystery has its benefits, but I had no doubt a werewolf would be able to identify two other werewolves.” Luke stopped and raised an eyebrow at Jean-Paul.
The large man laughed. “Indeed. For someone who I identify as human, you play in weird water, Mr. Archambeau. You are indeed bold.”
“It’s a name proudly given to my line from the Comtesse. I’m glad I wear it well.” Luke gave a little bow, trying to make it a bit sarcastic.
“I believe I found a painting of your ancestor with the Comtesse, Pierre. Would you care to see?” Jean-Paul asked.
“Of course.”
They stopped and Jean-Paul pulled out his phone and opened it. A moment later, he had a painting up on his screen. Luke gasped, covering it with a cough. It indeed was a painting of the Comtesse in the salon she liked in one of the Hapsburg’s Vienna palaces. In the background, a man in a high collar military coat leaned against a piano, his head pointing toward the Piano player just off canvas.
He remembered that. She’d paid good money to have Beethoven amuse her while posing for her portrait, and it had provided Luke an opportunity to get to know the man who was quickly becoming a friend. The Comtesse had always liked Luke’s company. He’d been quite fond of her and was deeply saddened when she passed. He was impressed with Jean-Paul’s resourcefulness. It would make him a worthy ally—or a dangerous enemy.
“I believe that is my ancestor—Luyc de Jaegher. Although I don’t think he’s on the name plate.” Luke squinted and magnified that section of the image.
“Like I said, I was curious. They had the artist’s notes. He listed the people there while he worked as one Ludwig Van Beethoven and a respected cavalry officer from the Lowlands, though he doesn’t specify where, named Luyc de Jaegher. This Luyc de Jaegher Archambeau had quite the career fighting against Napoleon and earned a few more Dutch and Belgian titles.”
Jean-Paul had done his research. Fortunately, Jean-Paul had his attention on the screen, though he might be able to sense the changes in Luke’s pulse and body chemicals. He had to remind himself that the face of Luyc de Jaegher was not the face of Pierre in his disguise. Luke schooled his expression into one of interest.
“Most impressive. Indeed, Luyc de Jaegher is the well-spring of much of my family’s prosperity. But then again, I wouldn’t expect anything less from the Première of the Paris Pack.”
Luke caught the brief flash of surprise that danced across Jean-Paul’s face before he returned it to the previous jovial mask.
“You’re well informed.” Jean-Paul didn’t elaborate.
“I have my sources,” Luke replied.
Jean-Paul nodded, acknowledging the point. “As do most powerful people who play in dangerous waters. Speaking of which, what game are you playing with Mathis Heinen?”
Luke stopped, straightening up to his full height, and raised an eyebrow. “Can we cut through the bullshit of dancing around each other trying to see who knows what?”
“I guess I can if you can.” He stroked his thick, well-groomed beard. “Why are you buying up all his debt?”
“I’m hoping you’ll keep that bit to yourself next time you speak with Heinen. If you give me a bit of leeway, I think you’ll find it to your benefit,” Luke said by way of asking for the boon before giving more information.
“For now. It’ll depend a lot on what I hear next.”
A man stepped up behind Jean-Paul and cleared his throat. “I have the wine ready, sir.”
“Ah, yes,” Jean-Paul replied. “Would you care for a glass of wine? I had my people bring up a little something special from my cellars.” He turned to the man. “What did you end up bringing, Éric?”
“A bottle of the 1998 Jean-Louis Chave Cuvee Cathelin Hermitage, sir,” Éric replied.
“Excellent, I hope you like Syrah, Pierre. Éric has impeccable taste and has made a most excellent personal sommelier for me and my pack.” Jean-Paul smiled.
“I’m quite fond of the of the wines of the Rhone.”
Éric handed Jean-Paul a glass with a little wine in the bottom. After swirling and taking a sip, he nodded for his sommelier to continue. A moment later, a glass appeared for Luke then Éric turned to fill his boss’s glass.
Raising his glass, he proposed a brief toast. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Your Excellency. You’ve made the last few weeks interesting.”
Luke chuckled and raised his glass. “I’m glad I’ve kept things amusing for you. I’ll try to keep it up.” He took a sip of the wine, savoring the rich and earthy complexities of the vintage. “I can’t be more specific, but Heinen owes me a considerable personal debt that he doesn’t think he has to repay, so I’m orchestrating repayment.”
“It must be a significant sum if you’re buying up both ends of his debt.” Jean-Paul swirled his glass and took a drink.
“It’s not insignificant.”
“You’d better hope he doesn’t get wind of what you’re doing before you’re ready. Your two werewolf bodyguards won’t be able to handle the goons he’ll send to deal with you.”
“I think my defenses are sufficient to handle what Heinen can throw at me. And since we’ve broached the subject, from what rumors I’ve heard, Heinen owes you a sizable chunk of change. If you’re willing to sell, I’m buying.” Luke smiled broadly. He didn’t have confirmation of the rumor, though as word had spread about his largess, many names cropped up. Jean-Paul’s name had been on several lips.
Jean-Paul held up his hand and lowered his fore and middle fingers, as he mimicked walking with them. “What swift feet rumors have.” He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side. “What are my odds of getting my money back from Heinen?”
“Slim to none,” Luke answered, the words crisp and final. “I’m paying the full amount and a nice commission. You name the method you’d like to be repaid in, and I’ll have the money sent to you. Then I’ll relieve you of Heinen’s marker.”
“Just like that? Are you sure you’re rich enough to play this game? He owes me a significant sum.” Jean-Paul passed the glass under his nose for a sniff but kept his eyes firmly fixed on Luke.
“Jean-Paul. I thought you took me for a serious man. Whether at the baccarat table or in this little endeavor, I never gamble with money I can’t afford. I already own most of his debt.” Luke’s feral grin caused another brief slip of Jean-Paul’s mask. “He’s on the razor’s edge right now with nowhere to go. All I have to do is tip the first domino, and then they all fall for Heinen. Anyone left holding his debt will get nothing.”
Jean-Paul narrowed his eyes and stared past Luke into the Parisian night as he sipped on his glass of Hermitage. When Luke reached the end of his glass, the sommelier offered him more, filling his glass after receiving a nod.
“Ten percent,” Jean-Paul said, breaking the silence. “You’ve been paying everyone else a five percent markup on debt Mathis owes. Pay me ten percent, and you’ve bought my silence when the inevitable call comes from the weaselly little shit.”
“We have a deal, Mr. Aquitaine.” Luke stuck out his hand.
“Indeed we do, Your Excellency.” Jean-Paul grasped Luke's hand and shook, sealing their bargain. “Now that we’ve accomplished our business, would you care to join me for dinner? I own a lovely little restaurant with an exceptional menu and wine list. Éric and my chef have a prepared a special menu and wine pairings for us.”
“How could I turn down such a tempting offer?” Luke smiled, feeling cautiously optimistic about the potential long-term possibilities of a friendship with Paris’s packleader. He’d still be cautious—he always was—but so far, things were advancing in a way he liked. “I’d be delighted. Is it nearby or should I have my driver waiting?”
“If it were summer, I’d say let’s enjoy the walk and bask in the lights of Paris, but it’s colder than sin out tonight. Éric, give one of His Excellency’s people the restaurant’s card.”
“Of course, sir.” Éric pulled a card from his pocket and placed it in the outstretched fingers of Jung-sook.
“Should I give Charlie a call, Your Excellency?” Ahmed asked.
Luke looked at Jean-Paul and got a nod. “Yes, let him know we’ll be down in a bit if he wants to circle until we’re ready.”
Éric carefully poured the last bit of the bottle, splitting it between Luke and Jean-Paul. “A little wine for the rest of the walk back to the elevator and the ride down, Your Excellency.”
“Thank you.”
Jean-Paul, showing pride in his city, pointed out his favorite landmarks in the distance as they finished their slow circuit around the Eiffel Tower’s tallest observation deck. Luke had killed vampires in the city when it was ruled by the Romans and called Lutetia Parisiorum. He’d killed vampires in Paris when it was ruled by the Frankish Merovingians then under the Capetians, Valois, and Bourbons who only gave way to new rulers on the edge of a guillotine. Many of the buildings the werewolf pointed out, Luke had seen as their foundations were laid or as they evolved over the years with the needs of the city. He’d bled a fair bit of blood in this city, and had called it home a few times over the years, with the last time being between world wars in the twenties and thirties.
Although he’d seen more incarnations of Paris than nearly anyone, save for perhaps a few vampires if any had lived in the area all that time, it was refreshing to see the city through the eyes of such an enthusiastic Parisian. Luke had not felt enthusiastic about much in life, still finding his mind and heart drifting toward the dark cell in the vampires’ arena. He’d only been able to borrow bits of enthusiasm from others, letting their positivity buoy him, even if only for a little while.
As they passed the eastern side, he leaned up against the railing looking toward the east. He wondered where Roxi was, hoping she’d at least found warmth and safety. It was too much to hope she was well, not with the compulsion drawing closer to its conclusion. He could reach out to Selene, but if she had an update, she’d let him know. He took a sip of wine, the earlier brilliance of the drink tasting like nothing. With a bitter sigh, he pushed off from the rail and turned to follow Jean-Paul into the elevator, trying to reconnect with his enthusiasm for the rest of the evening. If nothing else, he’d feign it like he had so many times over the millennia.
* * *
Luke swirled a glass of very expensive Cognac or Armagnac, he couldn’t remember which. After an evening of more wine and drinks as well as amazing food, Luke felt decidedly mellow. Jean-Paul had been a generous host.
“Enjoying the Armagnac?” Jean-Paul grabbed the bottle and splashed more into his glass.
“It’s excellent.” Luke held it up and smiled, trying to force the expression all the way into his eyes.
Jean-Paul’s jovial nature had gone a long way in reviving Luke’s spirits, but the thought of Roxi haunted around the edges of his awareness no matter how much he tried to keep himself in the present.
“A penny for your thoughts, as you Americans say.” Jean-Paul leaned back in his chair, resting his arm along the back of the chair next to his. “Your head seems to be in the clouds.”
“My apologies—”
Jean-Paul waved him off with a swat at the air with is large hand. “No need to apologize.”
“I have a lot on my plate at the moment.” Grasping for something to divert the conversation, he settled on the first face that flashed through his mind that overlapped with his brief experience with the packleader of Paris. “What can you tell me about Robert Beaufort?”
Jean-Paul’s brow furrowed, a flash of darkness drifting across his eyes. “That one. Be careful with him. I don’t know if you’ve had any experience with his…sort. Hell, you know what I am. With vampires. He’s a particularly dangerous one, high up in the ranks of their kind. He likes to play at being some rich young wastrel.”
“How often do you encounter him? Is he a Paris vampire?” Luke asked, playing the line between interested and nonchalant.
“Not often in Paris, though I try to keep tabs on any prominent blood suckers who make their way through my city, but I don’t believe he resides here. I think he has a château out to the west—Bordeaux, I think.”
That piqued Luke's interest. Bordeaux? He tried to stay focused on Jean-Paul, although the drinks weren’t helping. He wondered whether Robert Beaufort was affiliated with Le Mousquetaire. “I haven’t been out that way in a while…”
“You best keep it that way if you’re thinking of knocking on his door. He’s OK to play cards with in a casino, but I’ve heard dark tales about what goes on inside his walls and on the surrounding lands.” Jean-Paul shook his head and took a drink of brandy.
Luke chuckled. “I can imagine. Don’t worry about me, I know better than to poke around in a vampire nest. Merely curious. How’s he wrapped up with Heinen?”
Jean-Paul made a disgusted nose. “Heinen will move anyone’s money. The man has no scruples, putting his pack in bed with the likes of Robert Beaufort.” He sat up and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I don’t know what Mathis did to earn your ire, but if half of the shit I’ve heard he’s involved in is true, he’s earned his reckoning.”
Luke nodded, giving him a half-smile.
Raising his glass, Jean-Paul grinned. “I wish you the best of luck with your endeavors. Mathis could use a good downfall. He’s brought nothing but chaos to Western Europe’s packs, and before you go plying me for details, I’ve probably said too much, so don’t bother asking more.”
Luke raised his glass and laughed. “Fair enough, but I’ll drink to Mathis’s downfall.”
They touched glasses and drank deeply.
“If you know anyone who’d like to see their money or who owes, let them know I’ve got money to spare,” Luke added.
After giving himself another splash and spilling some on the table, Jean-Paul poured some into Luke’s glass as well. “I can certainly pass the word around. Maybe when this is all over with, we can share some more drinks and you can tell me what Mathis did to bring down your retribution.”
“Jean-Paul, I’d like that very much.” Luke lifted his glass and took a drink.
He’d meant it. In the short time he’d enjoyed Jean-Paul’s hospitality, he’d come to like the man, although he didn’t trust him entirely. Trust wasn’t as easy to earn. But he seemed genuinely interested in seeing Mathis get what was coming to him, even if he didn’t know what Heinen had done to Luke. Jean-Paul probably knew a lot about Heinen’s various activities. Luke had enough to lay at Heinen’s door without whatever Jean-Paul might add, and he fully intended to make Mathis pay for his crimes.