“Have you seen Fiona?” Lorcan asked Minerva.
She wouldn’t have been who he’d choose to talk to when he was already on edge.
“She’s in the time portal compound,” Minerva replied without the usual werewolf growliness.
“Thanks.” He nodded and started down the corridor toward the area known as Ringo’s Realm as opposed to Dewey’s Dimension. The brothers or clones were nerdy but brilliant and kick-ass at Dungeons and Dragons as well as a lot of other video games. Lorcan had played with them online.
“You two have a fight?” Minerva called.
Shit. He’d hoped he wouldn’t have to talk to her any longer.
“Did Fiona tell you that?”
“She didn’t have to. I saw the bruises. She looked angry and hurt—you know, how most women do after they’ve had anything to do with you.”
He bit his tongue. All the witty retorts he was dying to say wouldn’t be appreciated by the she-wolf.
“Don’t worry,” she went on, shaking her head. “She defended you. Didn’t explain what happened, though.”
He wasn’t about to enlighten her. “How the hell did Xavier get out of LAMB’s holding cell?” he asked instead. “I thought it was escape-proof.”
Lorcan sensed there were a lot of secrets here even between Dalton and Minerva. He mightn’t have told her.
She stared. “What are you talking about? I would’ve been informed if he’d escaped.”
Lorcan and Fiona both saw Xavier. They didn’t imagine it. Lorcan thought back to the last mission when he’d been nearly certain he’d seen two of that ancient grand elder and wondered if he had a twin or clone. LAMB was rumored to do scientific experiments. Cloning, too, if the rumors about Ringo and Dewey were true.
But would anyone anyone be diabolical enough to clone an ancient vampire? To what end? And possibly alter their usual weaknesses? Xavier had been out during daylight in ancient Ireland and he’d gotten into Lorcan’s home last night without invitation. That was bloody disconcerting.
Until Lorcan knew who was behind this, he wouldn’t mention it again. But he’d check in and make sure the grand elder was in his cell.
“Why would you think he’d gotten out?” Minerva flared her nostrils. “We’d let you know if that happened since he’d likely go after you for bringing him in. Not to mention destroying his New Orleans coven.”
“Fiona and I thought we spotted him last night,” Lorcan said. “We must’ve been mistaken. You’ve heard we’re not leaving till tomorrow?” He changed the subject even though Minerva was looking at him like he was daft. She did that a lot.
“Yes. If Fiona’s angry with you, maybe you’d better try to smooth things over. Otherwise, traveling through time with an angry witch…might be a bitch!”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lorcan replied and walked off at demon super speed.
Lorcan’s thoughts went to the shit show back at the house. Fiona must have pull with the window and door company or maybe the owner liked her. Kent had arrived an hour after she’d left.
He took measurements—said he’d order new doors and windows. Because the smashed openings were a security hazard, his staff put in a temporary door and boarded up the broken windows.
The security system tech would be there later. Lorcan would have to make up a story for his insurance company. There hadn’t been a hurricane, or baseball-sized hail—probably the only natural occurrences that could cause that destruction.
He’d probably claim delinquents vandalized the place. Fiona was okay. That was all that mattered.
Lorcan exhaled. With absolutely no sleep he wasn’t in top form—his mood or his body.
The guard at the door confirmed Xavier was there. Lorcan peeked inside. The asshat vamp smiled as though waiting for him to check in. “Who’s your Scottish friend?” Xavier asked.
Lorcan turned to see the bloody, mangled body of the spirit of Angus MacIntire.
Lorcan shook his head at the absurdity of his life. He’d hoped after his father was killed it would be more normal. But then he should’ve declined Dalton’s offer to work for LAMB if he craved normalcy.
“What do you want?” Lorcan questioned the ghost as he walked down the corridor.
“My beloved doesnae seem to wish to have me near her now. You appear to care for her. How might I win her favor again?”
It was a little late when he was dead. “I’d probably be the last person to ask, Angus. I don’t meet her approval either.”
The spirit hung his half-severed head and disappeared.
How would a man win Fiona’s favor?
Lorcan went to the cafeteria, got two cups of coffee, one the way she liked it, then went to the time portal enclosure.