Chapter 3

Kaine unlocked his phone,and as he ate, he booked a room in the hotel up the road. He had told Gerrit off for picking up a strange snow leopard. He told Everest off for fucking his bodyguards, or more correctly, encouraging them to fuck him. Was he any different?

He hadn’t taken anyone back to his house in at least a year, maybe two. He certainly didn’t take hookups and flings home. He didn’t go to their place either. A hotel was a neutral meeting ground. They also had plenty of cameras and security.

He was sure he hadn’t always been this paranoid.

And he blamed the Shadow Board for that. Because he was now jumping at shadows…and hot bartenders ten years younger than himself.

It wouldn’t be the first time he found a distraction that way.

The last time had been at Everest’s estate. He’d gone to check it while Everest was in England, and while there, he had found a delightful distraction, and they’d enjoyed a pleasant few days before her holiday ended. The only difference was he’d been playing the part of staff.

She had at least waited until the second night to start asking questions.

He sighed and took a drink of beer, reminding himself that it was normal to ask questions about the person you were going to get naked with.

Sometimes.

When he’d been at uni in France, there’d been times when he’d never known their name. Fuck, there’d been one night he hadn’t even known how many people there were, only that the bed had been extremely full and extremely sticky come morning. And he’d been absolutely wrecked. A top ten memory that he didn’t want to tarnish by ever repeating.

He glanced at Quentin for a couple of heartbeats, wishing he was that carefree and that the weight of being responsible for the security of the country and his brothers wasn’t all his to bear. While it annoyed him the way Everest corrupted his bodyguards—Everest always had the morals of an alley cat in heat—which meant he had to find the straightest ones possible, it didn’t bother him as much as it bothered Dalmon. It was almost a game between the two of them. So far, Everest was winning. There was something about him that bodyguards found irresistible. And Everest liked the power play.

Kaine shook his head and picked his phone up. He logged in and typed Quentin’s name into the search. Was it unethical to run a quick check on a potential lover? Not when it came to him and his brothers and the running of the country. There was no such thing as privacy. Something Lucian and Malcolm were going to find out. As much as he liked Lucian and disliked Malcolm, he believed Malcolm would handle the scrutiny much better. And given time, he might come to like Malcolm, assuming he proved himself trustworthy. If he was trustworthy, his background made him an asset to the kingdom.

If.

There were only a handful of men named Quentin in the country—which Kaine had suspected, as it wasn’t a common name. And only one of them was young enough to be the one who’d propositioned him. He tapped on the profile, opening it up. From the photo, he had the right man.

Quentin Silverbrook, twenty-two years old. He was studying archaeology and cryptography, which were interesting choices. They sounded like something he would’ve studied if computers weren’t invented. Quentin’s father was ex-British military and worked as security in the castle. In the part that was open to the public, so he had nothing to do with Gerrit.

He tapped on Alfred Silverbrook’s profile. Divorced with one child. He applied for the job after being recommended by a former colleague, who also worked in security. He read through Alfred”s military career, but there was nothing curious there. His promotions were all as expected, his overseas service was nothing extraordinary. He was the average career soldier who’d entered the army at sixteen and plugged away at it until his body was done.

Neither of their profiles have been flagged in the system for anything. They were both human—though only he and a handful of others would be able to see their paranormal status. It wasn’t the kind of thing he wanted revealed to human employees.

That there was nothing in their profiles only made him more suspicious. Which meant he definitely had a problem. He was turning into his brother—Dalmon, not Everest.

Or perhaps Gerrit, who’d pushed everything aside for the running of the country and the raising of Everest until he was so miserable, he didn’t want to shift back to human.

Fuck, that is not how he wanted to end up.

One night with a hot bartender might be exactly what he needed. His gaze found Quentin, and the younger man turned and smiled as if feeling the heat of his stare. Yeah, he wanted. He wanted to lose himself in the other man’s body and forget about the Shadow Board for one goddamn night.

So he made a deal with himself. He would work until eight and if he didn’t have the solution by then he’d enjoy a night out and when he woke up, he would get back to work. He doubted anyone would call him out for enjoying himself for a few hours.

Aside from him, that was. If something happened while he was enjoying himself, then he would be pissed. But those thoughts didn’t lead anywhere good.

And his older brothers served as a warning that he was heading the same way.

With dinner finished, he pushed the plate away and turned over his notepad, hoping that while he wasn’t looking the letters had rearranged themselves into the answer.

They hadn’t.

The Shadow Board wanted to expose paranormals and put witches in a position of power by claiming shifters were dangerous and wild and only controllable by witches.

They wanted a foothold in Europe, thus their invitation to Everest.

They had tried to kill Gerrit to put Everest on the throne. That the assassin now warmed Gerrit’s bed still made him uneasy.

They had spies amongst Gerrit’s staff, including a witch who could talk to animals. He’d reviewed every witch he employed, searching for any other animal talkers. But there were none.

So far, the Shadow Board had been very organized, which meant there were other threads he wasn’t seeing. Killing Gerrit couldn’t have been their only plan. Not only that, but they would be watching Malcolm in case he fronted up at the Coven building and told them everything.

His gaze flicked to the door, but the Coven cafe was now dark.

Did they have someone in the Coven?

Or watching the Coven?

How many other people were they threatening and blackmailing?

With all the tourists coming in and out of the country, it was impossible to monitor everyone. It wasn’t as though witches and shifters had their paranormal status marked on their passports.

Anyone that he knew of had already been flagged in the system, so he’d be alerted. But they must be aware of that.

The best course of action was to wait until they made their next move, which would probably be a request to Everest. He didn’t like being this reactive. He much preferred it when he could unravel the problem and then set the trap. At the moment, it felt as though they were in the trap, waiting for it to close.

“Hey…”

Kaine glanced up at Quentin.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you. I’ll take your plate, and then I’m done.”

Kaine frowned, then checked his watch. It was almost eight. “I lost track of time.”

“I noticed. Are you done with the beer as well?”

It would be warm now. He pushed the glass towards Quentin. “Yes.”

“Okay, let me sort this out and grab my jacket.” One eyebrow lifted as though it was a question, not a statement.

Kaine’s gaze slid over the younger man, and his heartbeat quickened as desire took hold. He folded up his notebook and slipped it into his jacket pocket. What he needed was to stop thinking about the Shadow Board for one night.

Sex wouldn’t solve any problems, it never did, but it was a great way to forget his responsibilities for a few hours. And maybe while he was asleep, he’d dream of the solution.

“I’ll step outside so the people you work with don’t see you leaving with me.”

“Oh…good idea.” He grinned, and a dimple formed in each cheek.

Kaine bit back on the sigh of longing. Quentin was too young and too innocent for the jaded likes of him. But that wasn’t going to stop him. Now the idea had taken root, he didn’t want anything or anyone else. Perhaps seeing two of his brothers all loved up had gotten to him. He stepped out into the chilly night and leaned against the wall. It wasn’t as though he was averse to the idea of having someone. But he also didn’t know how he could trust someone, not when he saw and knew so much. It also meant whoever was with him was in danger.

And that wasn’t fair to them.

Everything in this lifetime was far more complicated than it had been in the past. He blamed technology for that, even though he loved technology.

He stared at the closed Coven building. Well, the cafe at the front was closed. There may still be a few people inside. It wasn’t a big office like the one in London. But it was the triage point, and anyone in desperate need of help was sent to him. In Mont de Leucoy, he was the Coven, and he only answered to Dalmon, who ran the entire Coven. It had seemed like a good set-up this time around, but he was beginning to think running security for the country and king, as well as dealing with paranormal issues, was a little too much work. Unlike Dalmon, he could at least admit when things grew too much, and he would be more than happy to offload some duties to someone trustworthy.

At the moment, he didn’t trust anyone because of the Shadow Board.

But he did not like jumping at shadows.

Quentin stepped out of the bar, wearing a bright red jacket and a knitted hat, and took a moment to locate Kaine, who was dressed in black and leaning against the brick wall in the shadows. “Aren’t you cold?”

His blood ran hotter than most people’s. He’d need to sit out in the snow wearing shorts and a T-shirt for quite a while before he got cold and before it became an issue. “The jacket is lined.” Which wasn’t a lie. He peeled himself off the wall and started walking, expecting Quentin to fall into step. “And I hadn’t planned on being out so late.”

“I hadn’t planned on doing this either.” Quentin gave a little lift of his eyebrows.

It took Kaine a moment to work out what his silent question meant. “I think you’ll find the hotel room is well stocked.”

Quentin stared at him. “When you said hotel, you actually meant the hotel?”

Kaine pointed at the five-star hotel on the other side of the road. “Of course, I did. Where did you think we were going?”

Quentin turned around and pointed in the direction they’d come from. “The motel and backpackers are in that direction.”

Kaine laughed. “No. Firstly, the security in those places is very slack. And secondly, I don’t think they understand the meaning of the word discretion, and thirdly, why not enjoy a little luxury?”

Quentin nodded. “Just so clear, you’re not a serial killer, are you?”

“If I was, why would I be taking you into a place which is super secure? It’s the hotel visiting dignitaries stay at. No, if I was a serial killer, I would take you to the motel. The backpackers has too many people coming and going at all hours. The motel is quieter, but not as secure.”

“I’m a little disturbed you’ve put that much thought into it.” Yet he continued to walk next to him.

“I work security. It’s my job to know which places are safe and which places aren’t. I’m often asked to scope out destinations ahead of time, including some of the luxury resorts and such. I make security recommendations, so they are up to the standard required for the people visiting.” He did those jobs himself. He had analysts and security teams who acted as the detail. He could also throw together a Black Ops team at short notice. He was the person the police came to when the job got too big. That he was having to call Dalmon for reinforcements meant the situation was grim.

“Right, so not just security.”

“If you think all security is only bodyguards, you’re missing the bigger picture. A lot of work goes in that no one ever sees.”

The doorman opened the door and nodded at Kaine before his gaze slid to Quentin. The doorman wasn’t employed by the hotel. He worked for Kaine. All the security staff in this hotel worked for Kaine for the simple reason that this hotel was used by visiting celebrities, presidents, and royalty.

Quentin sucked breath as they walked inside.

Kaine glanced back, expecting something to be wrong. Instead, the young man was staring at the butterfly house. He’d forgotten it existed. When he was here, he was working.

He wasn’t looking at the gold and marble or the chandelier.

“Do I want to ask how you got a room or how much it was?”

“I called and booked, the same as anyone.” Asking for a few little extras was easy. “As for the price…it really doesn’t bother me.”

He may not be royal in this lifetime, but he had more money than he could ever spend. They all did because time and compound interest were always in their favor.

He reached out and took Quentin’s hand for the second time that evening. The younger man’s fingers wrapped around his, and he smiled. His heart was beating fast—with nerves or lust?

Kaine leaned in. “You can change your mind and leave.”

Quentin swallowed and shook his head. “I’m always nervous when…um…meeting someone for the first time.”

“But brave enough to be the one doing the inviting.”

His cheeks colored. “Yeah, I expected you to brush me off.”

A woman walked over and handed Kaine the room key. “Everything is ready for your stay, Mr. Lenoir.”

“Thank you.”

“You didn’t even have to check in?”

“They know me,” Kaine said as if that explained everything.

“Because you come here often?”

He laughed and led Quentin toward the lifts. “For work, not pleasure.”

And while he could be assured of discretion and security here for the first time, he wondered if he shouldn’t have gone to the motel where no one would recognize the country’s Chief of Security.