Chapter 2

Beatrice

Three Months After Book One

Beatrice Van Houten stomped through the door, handed her gloves to the butler, Morris, and took the vodka tonic he offered. It had been a sweltering evening, unlike Arkansas this time of year. Tonight's hunt tired her more than it should have. The fat senator from Texas had been an even bigger jackass in person, and he would not stop grabbing her. How many ways could a woman say no to this man before he got a clue?

She made a mental note. A few phone calls would ruin his chance for reelection.

"Happy hunting tonight, Madam?" the butler said.

"I suppose. We almost lost the panther. It took me over an hour to find her."

"Would you like me to send in the cleaner?"

Beatrice waved a hand in front of her face. "No, I enjoy a hot-spirited female. It makes the thrill of the hunt even more satisfying. Besides, I lost three men trying to catch her. She owes me. Besides, I love the look in her eyes when she thinks I'm not looking."

Beatrice placed a hand on the butler's arm and leaned her weight against him. She unzipped and pulled off one boot, shifted, and pulled off the other. Her good boots were in DC. These were new and not broken in. They had to go.

"All I want now is a hot bath and a good night's sleep."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, at least not yet."

"No? And why not?"

"A man is waiting for you in the den. He claims to have had an appointment with you, but you didn't show."

She finished the tonic and returned the glass to the tray. "Is he a little slow in the head? If I didn't show, it's because I'm not interested in anything he has to say."

"Yes, Madam." Morris nodded once and stared straight ahead, not directly at Beatrice.

"Then why did you let him inside?"

At this, Morris turned his head and met her gaze. "Because he knows who you are."

Beatrice put her hands on her hips and glowered at the butler. It was too late at night to deal with nonsense. "I'm a state senator. Of course, he knows who I am."

The butler cleared his throat and resumed staring at nothing. "No, ma'am. He knows who you really are."

Beatrice's eyebrows shot up. "Does he, now? I find that very difficult to believe. No one knows I belong to The Tribe."

"Yes, Ma'am. Would you like me to tell him to leave?"

Beatrice downed the rest of her tonic in one gulp and returned the glass to the butler. She rubbed the back of her neck. "No, not yet. I'm curious as to who he thinks I am."

"Would you like me to have security waiting close by?"

She nodded. "That might not be a bad idea. Call Rex and have him station a couple of men outside the den. I can handle whoever it is, but I'm too tired for much of a fight."

The butler nodded and headed to a side room.

"Morris, before you go. There is an ugly, obnoxious, bald senator from Texas. Do you know which guest I'm talking about?"

Morris nodded once.

"Do something to him. I don't care what, but make it embarrassing."

One corner of Morris' mouth raised, and he turned his head. "Anything, Madam?"

Beatrice tapped a finger against her jaw. "Don't kill him or make it anything permanent. Oh, and nothing that is too questionable. Make it look like something natural for a person with terrible luck."

"Consider it done, Madam." Morris bowed and walked away.

Beatrice turned to see her reflection in the mirror. The campaign trail had kept her busier than usual, and there hadn't been time to stop by a salon. Everyone gushed about her beauty despite her age. If everyone knew her actual age, they wouldn't. She needed her roots touched up and a facial for sure. It was a mundane task that could quickly be handled with magic, but she enjoyed being pampered. She would ensure someone came over the next day to care for everything.

In this life, Beatrice chose the form of a middle-aged woman with a black pixie cut and green eyes. After a thousand years, she still appeared flawlessly beautiful. Her never-ending beauty was a gift from the Goddesses for complete servitude to the sacred duty she pledged when she joined The Tribe.

The Tribe of Hecate was a secret society formed by the Goddesses Selene and Hecate. Their original purpose was to protect humans from the evil inside all supernaturals. Beatrice spent years fighting for what she believed to be a good cause. At some point, she realized supernaturals, especially shifters, served a purpose, and it was better to control rather than destroy them. If she could only figure out a way to control all of them, she'd create an army that no one could stop.

She opened a drawer in the hall table and checked the mirror on the wall. After quickly applying the lipstick she found, running her fingers through her hair, and putting her boots back on, she walked to the den.

Sulfur burned her nose before she walked into the room. Demon. This idiot was a demon. Really? Did he think he could strongarm her because he thought he knew who she was? She contemplated letting Rex and his men take care of him for a heartbeat. However, some entertainment might be the best way to turn this dreadful evening into something better.

A thin man sat on her couch. Beatrice couldn't sense any real power. He was probably more bark than bite, but the black box beside him pulsed with energy. Now, that was interesting and might make this visit worth it.

The man stood when he noticed her and extended his hand. "Beatrice Van Houten, thank you for meeting with me."

His handshake was weak, and Beatrice wanted to wash her hands after he dropped his hand. "Well, you didn't give me another option."

The man cleared his throat. "Um, yes. I've tried to contact you many times, and you have been unavailable."

"I'm a busy woman."

He sat on the couch, crossed his legs, resting one foot on the other knee, and rested his arm on the back of the sofa. "Which keeps you busier, your political career or your thriving business here?"

Beatrice sat in a wing-back chair across from him, crossing one leg over the other. "What do you know of my business?"

"I know what everyone else knows. You've set up a retreat where the rich and powerful can relax, rejuvenate, and create strategic alliances through profitable deals."

Beatrice didn't respond, and the man must have taken it as permission to keep going.

"I also know about the other side of the business here."

She wasn't sure how much he knew but decided to appease him. She didn't like him and never would. He wouldn't leave her house alive.

"Well, who knew people would pay a lot of money to hunt big game here on this continent?"

"Big game? Is that what you consider shifters?"

She was tired, and this was getting dull. This fool didn't deserve any attention. "You mentioned trying to contact me. Why would you want to do that?"

He reached for the box next to him. The man's animated reaction humored her, but she was intrigued when he pushed a button, and the box opened. A small black bug-like thing crawled out and sat on the edge. She couldn't sense any life, but it moved like a scorpion would. The man pushed it back into the box and closed the lid.

"I'm sure you heard of Xerxes' death?" the man said.

Beatrice flared her nostrils in disgust. "Yes, he deserved to die."

The man patted the box. "This device was his lifeblood, and he wanted to infuse the masses with his power to control everyone."

She nodded to the box and almost laughed. "With that?"

"Well, not this one. This is a bigger model that we use in development."

"What is that?"

"Nanotechnology."

Her eyes widened. "We had heard he was working on something, but we assumed it would be useless, like him."

The man arched an eyebrow. "By we, you mean The Tribe."

"Yes, we've been called that before. What do you know of The Tribe?"

The corner of his mouth turned down a bit. "I know you want to control all supernaturals."

She scoffed. "It's not control. We protect humans. We aren't law enforcers. We are species protectors."

"That's what your brochure says, at least."

Beatrice raised an eyebrow. "Your sarcasm is wasted on me." She uncrossed her legs and pushed to standing. "This meeting is over. If you do not remember where the door is, I will find someone to show you."

He pushed himself off the couch. "I assume you know what I am." He held out his arm so she could see the nanobot crawling up his arm.

"Yes." She faced him and faked a yawn. "I am getting tired. Please tell me why I should care about that little bug."

"This little bug is a nanobot that shrinks to the size of one sand grain. It can infect anyone it touches with any spell I choose."

"And what spell would you choose?"

"Xerxes wanted to create a mass of followers. He had the right idea but could not execute it."

"And you can?" Beatrice returned to the chair. She wouldn't let him know, but he'd piqued her curiosity.

The man sat on the couch, leaned forward, and rested his arms on his thighs. "I do."

"Then why do you need me?"

He inhaled a quick breach and leaned back. "Magic can only take me so far. It's slow and cumbersome. Magic has one tragic flaw that I have not been able to counteract. It needs a living source of power. None of the wizards I found could sustain the power I needed to finish everything. Technology is better than magic, but I need more funding."

Beatrice rested her arms on the chair. "Do you think technology is better than magic? A lot of people would disagree with you. Magic existed before technology. It existed before time."

"Those people lack vision. We must marry magic with modern technology to truly overpower the world."

She interlaced her fingers and rested them in her lap. "Would it be correct to assume you came here seeking funding for this marriage?"

The man lowered his eyes. "Yes. I could not set up a productive environment in South America, but I came here to get your help. There was an issue with the local authorities."

"Mmm, I see. And why haven't you set up a productive environment here in this country?"

"There was an issue involving a specific political figure. It's not safe for me to be seen. I took a big risk by coming here, but I felt you would be the best person. I know you have vision."

"Oh, you do, do you?" Beatrice crossed one leg over the other. She tilted her head, an idea dawning. "Would this specific political figure live in a white house?"

The man clenched his jaw and avoided answering her question.

"I know that the Tribe flourished under your leadership. I know that your sister was never the strong, forward-thinking leader that you are." He looked her in the eye. "I know that even now, you are the one who controls everything. You work in the shadows, but with this device-" he held up his arm to show her the nanobot, "- the Tribe could be so much more."

Beatrice rose from her chair and walked to the door. His proposal started turning the wheels in her brain. Whoever this man was, he had done his research. Her sister Isabeau had been missing for so long that no one remembered her. She gave up looking for her, assuming she died. Isabeau was the reason the Tribe now worked in the shadows, as this weak man reminded her. Isabeau never understood the true calling. Supernaturals, especially shifters, were demonic creatures who didn't deserve to breathe. Isabeau lost sight of that when she gave her heart to a dragon.

In a quick heartbeat, she knew what had to be done, and she didn't need this man to help her do it.

She faced him. "So, you mean to tell me that you've created a device that will allow you to quickly take over massive amounts of supernaturals, shifters, for example? You've merged magic and tech to create something new. And you need my money to finalize it?"

He stood from the couch and stepped closer to her. "Yes. With your backing, I can finish what Xerxes started. We can take over any group of living creatures we want to."

"Amazing." Beatrice poked her head into the hallway and saw Rex and another man waiting outside. Rex had been with her for a long time, and she could tell him what she needed with one glance.

She moved back into the room and inched closer to the man. Rex and the other man stepped into the room.

This demon had no idea what she was truly capable of doing. He wanted her money and nothing more. He was like everyone else who ever wanted her help: na?ve and weak. His plan was solely dependent on that box. She didn't need him. She needed that box.

The man's head turned between Rex and the other guard. A slight sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. "Is everything okay?"

"Oh, yes. Everything is fine."

"Then who are they?" He put his little bug back in the box and held the box close to him.

"My security."

"You don't need security."

"Well, how do I know you won't use your device on me?" She put her hands in her pockets and gave him a closed-mouth smile. "I'm sure it won't work, but you might still try."

"I wouldn't use it on you. I need your help."

"Mmm. Yes, you do." Her eyes flicked to the box on the couch and then to the man. "You haven't even told me your name yet. You know mine, and it doesn't seem fair."

The man swallowed hard. "Keyser. My name is Keyser."

Beatrice nodded to Rex. Before Keyser could take another breath, Rex flashed behind him, took Keyser's head, and twisted until the head popped off in his hands. Keyser's body collapsed. Blood spurted from his body and poured onto the floor. Beatrice stepped back, but not before the blood flow stained her boots.

She hopped back. "Damn it." She met Rex's eyes. "Will you please clean up this mess and ensure the black box is locked in the vault? I know just the person who can help me with that."

Rex nodded. He and the man with him began working on the mess.

Beatrice scoffed and looked down at her boots. "I'm not even going to bother breaking these in now," she said.

She walked through the kitchen to the utility room, where she removed the boots and threw them away. She turned, ready to call Morris, but as usual, he anticipated her needs before she asked. He stood in the doorway, holding a pair of slippers.

"How did you know I needed those?"

"It's my job," Morris said.

After putting on the slippers, Beatrice went into her office, sat at the desk, and made a call.

"Why are you calling me?" the male voice on the other phone said.

"Our problem just showed up at my door." She picked up a pen and started drawing circles on a random paper.

"I don't understand."

"You told me Xerxes and his little invention had been taken care of. But considering you still haven't addressed the other problem, I'm not surprised."

"We had confirmation that Xerxes was dead, and we confiscated his invention."

"The dead demon in my office proves you have no idea what you're talking about."

"Keyser?"

"Oh, so you do know about him. Why didn't you tell me about him?"

The man cleared his throat. "The situation had been handled."

Beatrice scoffed. "Really? Handled, huh?" She threw the pen across the room and crumbled up the paper. "It doesn't matter. He's been taken care of, and I have the prototype."

"Do you know what to do with it?"

Another man who doubted her abilities. How many times did she have to prove herself?

"If you feel the need to ask me that, you still don't understand who I am. Now I need to know if you have resolved our problem."

"All you need to know is that plans are in motion and will be completed soon."

"You've said that before."

"I wasn't planning on the dragon getting in the way."

Beatrice sighed. "It seems that Blake Sullivan is in the way a lot. That side of the Sullivan family should all be eliminated. They have been a problem for generations. We can't do what we need to if he is in the way. Are you sure you can take care of this?"

"You doubt me?"

She chuckled. "I doubt everyone."

"The president will be handled."

"She better be, or heads will roll, My Friend. Heads will roll." She snickered. "Not mine, of course."

The voice on the other end sputtered some explanation, but she had no desire for more excuses, so she hung up the phone.

"Morris," she called.

A few seconds later, he entered the office. "Yes, Ma'am?"

"Have you taken care of the Texan?"

He lifted one eyebrow. "Yes, ma'am. I sent one of the animal tamers to his room. By the night's end, we will have a nice collection of pictures that can be used whenever you desire."

She clapped her hands once. "Morris, I had no doubt you'd find the perfect way to handle the solution, but that's even better than I thought. We can hurt him now and later. Which tamer did you send?"

"Ava."

"Good choice." She leaned her neck to one side and then the other. "I wanted to set up a massage for tomorrow. I need it."

"I can take care of that for you."

Beatrice walked to the door. "No, I need to head back to DC early. When will I ever learn never to send a man to do a job that a woman can do better?"

"Job, Madam?"

"Yes, I need to catch a big lizard before he ruins everything."