IT WAS A WEEK before Raphael finally raised the subject of the unfinished business left over from Acuña. Cyn knew he was hurting and she blamed Alexandra for that. The selfish bitch hadn’t even managed to die without spreading her misery around. But after that single moment of shock in Raphael’s office—when his grief had been so strong that it had leaked over to Juro and Jared and they’d known before Raphael had spoken it aloud that Alexandra was dead—he’d kept his feelings carefully concealed. He had centuries of practice at that, at keeping his emotions hidden, but it didn’t work with her.
They were getting ready to go out for the evening, to attend some fundraiser or other that Raphael had to make an appearance at for political purposes. He might be master of the universe among vampires, but he had a lot of business interests in the human world and that meant schmoozing with politicians and corporate leaders who would be making and influencing the decisions that affected the bottom line of Raphael Enterprises. As for Cyn, she was an old hand at that sort of thing. She’d been showing up for command performances at her father’s and grandparents’ various functions for as long as she could remember. She’d put a stop to most of it once she’d gotten old enough to voice an opinion that anyone listened to, but somehow she didn’t mind doing it for Raphael.
Love made people do all sorts of things.
She stepped into a pair of beautiful satin and crystal Manolo Blahnik pumps. The heel wasn’t as high as she usually preferred, but the shoe was so pretty that she’d bought them anyway. And they added a little something to the little black dress that she’d dragged out for the occasion. This one happened to be sleeveless, but that was only by chance. She had at least ten LBDs hanging in the closet, all interchangeable. She didn’t even look before grabbing one to wear.
Reaching behind her back, she tried to finish zipping up then decided to make use of the gorgeous male in the next room.
She strolled out of the walk-in closet to find Raphael sitting in his big chair, looking devastating as always. Tonight was a semi-formal affair, cocktail dresses for the women, black tie for the men. And no one did black tie better than Raphael.
He looked up from the documents he was reading and gave her a smile.
“Zip me up?” she asked.
He stood at once, setting aside his papers and twirling a finger to indicate she should turn around.
Cyn took a step closer and presented her back as requested. She felt the warm glide of his big hand as he slipped it inside her dress and around to her belly where he pressed gently, tugging her back toward him as his lips came down on her bare shoulder.
“You look lovely, my Cyn.”
“So do you, my Raphael,” she murmured and blinked rapidly to keep the tears that welled in her eyes from ruining her makeup. This was the first time in days that he’d seemed himself.
He kissed her shoulder, then her neck. “What am I supposed to do here again?” he teased.
“Zip.”
“Ah, yes.” Giving her belly a final brushing caress, he removed his hand and zipped the dress up past her waist to the low neckline.
She looked over her shoulder. “Thanks, fang boy.”
He grinned then sobered abruptly. But it was only his usual seriousness, without the tinge of sadness that had shadowed his eyes for too many days.
“Did you identify a messenger for me, my Cyn? The one for Mexico?”
She nodded, relieved that he seemed to be getting back to business, but a little worried that the business involved Mexico. “Lana Arnold,” she told him. “She’s a bounty hunter, but does some P.I. work, too, mostly using her hunter skills, like finding people who have gone astray. She took on a couple of jobs for me recently and we worked well together. Her agency’s in Arizona, but she’s done a lot of work on the other side of the border.”
Raphael nodded then picked up the papers he’d been reading and handed them to her. “Take a look at these.”
Cyn took the proffered pages with a glance up at him but saw nothing in his face that told her what to expect. She bent her head and started reading. There were three letters. The first one was straightforward, a draft letter of instruction to his attorneys, Kimiko and Boyd Lorick, requesting that they deliver the other two documents to . . . and that part was left blank, presumably because he’d been waiting to learn the P.I.’s name from Cyn.
The other documents were more interesting. One was short and sweet, a handwritten note in Raphael’s flowing script to someone named Xuan Ignacio telling him it was “time to tell the story” to whoever handed him this message. The story of what, she wondered. She frowned and set it aside to read the last document.
This was also from Raphael, but like the letter to his attorneys, it was a typed draft. It asked that all aid and assistance been given to . . . another blank space for Lana’s name . . . to facilitate her search for Xuan Ignacio, and it was addressed to . . . her frown deepened.
She looked up at Raphael. “Vincent?”
He nodded silently.
“Look, I get that he’s Enrique’s big bad number two guy,” she said. “But he struck me as kind of a player. If this is important, are you sure he’s up to it? And who’s Xuan Ignacio anyway?”
Raphael smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear, carefully extracting it from the dangly diamond earring she was wearing. “Xuan is a very old friend with a secret. As for Vincent, you’re right. He can be a player. But there is no more time for playing, my Cyn. War is upon us, and Enrique has to go.”
Cyn studied his handsome face, almost afraid to ask her next question, but it was something she needed to know.
“Did Enrique kill Alexandra, Raphael?” She spoke softly, trying to lessen the impact of her question.
A brief flash of remembered pain crossed his face, and she worried she’d gone too far. But then he smiled slightly and stroked a gentle finger over her cheek. “You can ask me anything, lubimaya. I know you’ve been worried.”
She met his gaze, waiting.
“No, Enrique was not the one who executed Alexandra. That was another.”
“Do you know he was?” she asked, because she knew Raphael, knew the ferocity of his loyalty and the ruthlessness of his revenge.
“I do, and his death will be mine in the end.” Silver sparked in his black eyes, betraying the rage he was feeling before he blinked and it was gone. “But Enrique’s death trumps even my revenge,” he continued smoothly.
“And you expect Vincent to challenge Enrique and kill him, since that’s how you all do things. Am I right?”
Raphael nodded again. “Either that or die trying.”
Cyn raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Do you know if Vincent is even interested in challenging Enrique? If he even wants to be Lord of Mexico?”
Raphael bared his teeth in a predator’s grin. “If he doesn’t now, he will soon. Xuan Ignacio and your friend Lana will see to it.”
To be continued . . .
(Please continue reading for an excerpt of D.B. Reynolds next novel and more information about the author)