“Cara mia, you never whine, and you can tell me anything.” He hesitated before going on. “The situation here is unchanged. I am pleased to have our people around me, and Gabriel has been especially helpful. Among other things, he keeps us from becoming too serious.”
They talked for nearly an hour before disconnecting. By the end, Ari was fighting to keep her eyelids open. Still, she’d hated to end the call. It was their only tie at the moment. She refused to dwell on the odds against sustaining a long distance relationship. At the moment, they both had bigger problems to solve, and their love life would have to wait.
Ari yawned. Her bones ached with exhaustion. She needed at least two or three hours of sleep, and worrying about Andreas and Steffan wouldn’t help either man. Ignoring her heavy heart and the constant tingling of her witch senses, Ari headed into the shower. She held onto hope. The urgency of the magical nagging made her believe Steffan was still alive.
Chapter Eight
Ari studied the old gentleman seated across the table while she sipped her hot coffee. It would take more than one cup this morning. Horatio Jones had gotten her out of bed before seven o’clock with an invitation to breakfast at the coffee shop in the Fremont Hotel. He’d offered to buy. More importantly, he promised information.
Today he was wearing a dark blue, nondescript outfit. When she’d arrived, he’d heaved himself to his feet, his paunch gently straining the buttons of his sweater. She’d been impressed with the gesture. Younger men didn’t stand like that, except for her very proper vampire, and he didn’t really qualify as a younger man. It was a little odd to have Jones make the effort. He poured a fresh cup of coffee as soon as they were seated and watched with a benevolent smile as she savored her first sip.
“So,” Ari said, giving him a direct look. “You said you had news.”
“No preliminaries, huh?” He raised his white, shaggy brows. “All right. Since we spoke, I have been briefed and updated. I am authorized to provide you with certain details.” He set his cup down, picked up a spoon and added several scoops from the sugar bowl. “The meetings were held at a resort near Galena. It’s quiet this time of year before the snow skiers arrive. You understand their need for privacy.”
Ari nodded, trying to be patient. Galena, got it. Would he please get on with the details?
“Your friend Steffan was one of five North American leaders of his…ah, specialty, who were scheduled to vote this week on consolidation. The other representatives have agreed to remain at the resort until tomorrow night. At that time, a final vote will be taken, with or without Steffan, and a simple majority will prevail. In case of a tie, nothing will be done.” Jones paused to pour cream into his coffee. “Not only does my employer need his vote, Steffan must be there in time to support or influence the others.”
“What if I can’t get him there? What if he isn’t alive?”
Jones looked surprised. “You haven’t spoken with your council president this morning?”
“Are you kidding? It’s not even 8 o’clock,” she protested.
“He should have called you by now. More coffee?”
She frowned but held out her cup. “What’s he going to say?”
“Protocol, young lady.” Jones refilled her cup and his, before returned the pot to its spot on the table. “One must observe protocol. I was instructed to wait until you had received instructions from your president.”
“Oh, for Goddess’s sake. This is ridiculous. And then what?”
“Then we will proceed.”
Disgusted, Ari munched half-heartedly on a slice of buttered toast. Humans and all their boring rules—and now spy games on top of it all. But Jones wasn’t a man she could rush. Although he was being unnecessarily cryptic, she’d understood she had thirty-six hours or less to find Steffan and get him to Galena. She didn’t have time to waste, and sitting here waiting for a phone call was frustrating. She was ready to badger Jones for more information when her cell phone rang. About time.
“Yes, sir,” she answered.
“Ari?” The doubtful voice didn’t belong to the Council president.
“Gilbert?” Ari grinned. “Obviously I was expecting someone else. What’s up?”
“Fagan and five or six of his friends disappeared over night.”
Her grin vanished. Fagan was the belligerent wolf from last night, the one who wanted to be pack leader. “To where?”
“That’s the thing…nobody knows. It doesn’t mean they’re involved with Steffan’s disappearance, but I don’t like it.”
“Oh, I agree. We may be looking at the wrong angle by focusing on his work for the Magic Council. Are you positive they’re missing?”
“Fagan was supposed to lead a group in checking out the lower woods. When he and his buddies didn’t show, someone went to their houses. Found one guy’s girlfriend. She said they’d taken off for a few days, but she didn’t seem to know where.”
“This is maddening. I hate not knowing what people are doing,” Ari said, barely containing her frustration. “Let’s have someone talk to the girlfriend again.”
Jones set down his coffee and gave up any pretense he wasn’t listening to her end of the conversation.
“Can do, and I’ll get out the word that we need to talk to Fagan,” Gilbert said.
“Don’t scare him off,” she warned.
“Oh, I’ll be careful. I’ll act like we’re making sure he wasn’t kidnapped too, but if he’s done this, I’ll strangle him myself.”
As she disconnected, Jones immediately asked, “News?”
Her phone rang again, and she held up a forefinger for him to wait while she answered.
“Are you having breakfast with Horatio Jones?” the Magic Council President asked.
“Yes. What’s the big mystery he won’t tell me?”
“I wouldn’t call it a mystery, but Steffan’s captor called about five this morning. He offered to release him, unharmed, once the vote on the coalition was final. On the condition there was no interference from us and that Steffan would not be replaced prior to the vote. Seeing no alternative, I agreed to his demands.”
“But, sir—”
“Allow me to finish. When the vote goes through—and it must, for this proposed alliance is too important for us all—I believe Steffan becomes expendable. They will kill him. Believing that, I am authorizing you to disregard the promise I made and to continue your search. But please be discreet. Steffan’s life depends on how unobtrusive we can be. If you can’t locate him by noon tomorrow, I will send a new representative to participate in the vote. We cannot delay longer.”
That shortened the time frame by five or six hours. “I understand. Sir, are you familiar with a werewolf named Fagan? Would you recognize his voice?”
“I’ve seen the man but never spoken to him. Why do you ask? Is he involved in this?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ve heard he wants to take over Steffan’s pack. I don’t know how that figures in with the coalition, but Fagan and some of his friends have suddenly gone AWOL. Maybe he’s using the negotiations as an opportunity to discredit or kill his opposition.”
“That is discouraging. A personal motive makes it even less likely we’d get Steffan back alive. How does this change your investigation?”
“I’m not sure it does, but it gives us a suspect. While the wolves look for him, I’ll look at the actual negotiations. Am I allowed to speak with the delegates?”
“Certainly. By the way, I checked on Jones. He is the man he says he is. I don’t know why we need him, but the human authorities decided it was necessary. Maybe you should talk with him to arrange a meeting with the delegates.” The old wizard paused. “Arianna, I’m counting on you.” He disconnected.
Nothing like a little pressure. He didn’t need to remind her again of the subtext: Steffan’s life depended on her. She was all too aware.
Jones leaned over the table. “I gather we have complications. At my age, I am no longer helpful in a fight, although I can still handle a gun, if it comes to that. But anything else you need, I will try to supply.”
“Can you get me in to see the delegates?”
Jones spread grape jelly on his second piece of toast and cut it in four squares. She watched as he popped a square in his mouth, washed it down with coffee, and dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin.
“I can let them know you’re coming and provide you the directions to the resort.” He dropped his voice. “I was told if I get you in the vicinity, you can find and identify them as…what they are.” His eyes sparked with interest.
Ari nodded, ignoring his inquisitive look. It was apparent he hadn’t been briefed on the details of her abilities. Maybe they’d decided he didn’t need to know. It was fine with her to leave it that way.
When she didn’t elaborate, Jones added, “The delegates already know we called in the Guardian from Steffan’s district.”
Ari perked up. “That’s good to know. It may make it easier when I attempt to question each of them within the next few hours. If I’m to locate Steffan in time, I need more information than I’ve got now, and I hope the delegates can help.”
“Very good. One more thing, if you’re successful in finding him, you may need an extraction team. If so, you have my cell number. Use it freely. But I feel compelled to warn you, if things go badly, you’ll take all the blame. At least publicly. Homeland Security will deny any involvement or connection with you.” He added with a cheerful smile, “Or with me, for that matter.”
Now why would that amuse him? Strange man.
“I don’t think an extraction team will be needed. When I find Steffan, his people will help. This is an Otherworld issue, Mr. Jones. A human team wouldn’t be much use to us. Not if magic or supernatural powers are involved.”