any?” Rhys, a tall, salty-haired half vampire, half werewolf, asked his son.
Vail, full-blooded vampire, nodded across the street.
Stryke followed the vampire’s nod and spied a lanky man wearing a blue hoodie, tattered jeans and combat boots who strode down the sidewalk. The stranger glanced toward them. Red eyes glowed.
“Demon,” Vail confirmed. “He’s cool, though. Doesn’t appear as though he means any trouble. Does he, sweetie?” He kissed his daughter’s curly blond hair.
“Demons are not my favorite breed,” Rhys muttered. “But he looks harmless. She still allergic?” he asked Vail.
Vail, with coal-black hair and silver rings on his fingers that glinted even with the lacking sunlight, nodded. He explained to Stryke. “Ever since Summer had a little run-in with Himself last year she’s been allergic to sulfur. Good demon alarm, though.”
“How does a baby have a run-in with Himself?” Stryke had been in Paris all of two days and was staying in an apartment owned by his grandfather—the rest of his family was, as well—and what he’d learned since arriving was that paranormal breeds of all varieties were in abundance here as compared to Minnesota, which he called home.
“Himself kidnapped her,” Vail provided. “Long story. She’s good. Wasn’t hurt. But you know. Allergic now. I have to head out. Lyric is probably already at the tailor’s waiting for me. I have to try on the tuxedo again. I hope the tailor got the studs right this time.”
Stryke smirked. Vail wore black velvet jeans and a crisp black shirt with black lace around the wrists. And there was enough silver and diamonds on his wrists, ears and rings to flash signals to the moon. The vamp defined glamour rock, but with a bite.
“I sent a suit to your apartment, Stryke,” Vail said. “Your mother reported to my wife that her sons hadn’t properly packed. Ha! Anyway, not sure if they’ll fit you with a tux for the wedding. But in case not, I thought you could borrow one of mine. I sent one to your brother Trouble’s apartment too, but that guy is a block. Not sure my stuff will fit him.”
Indeed, Stryke hadn’t packed anything fancy for the family wedding. When he’d learned it was black-tie, he’d shaken his head and tried not to moan too loudly. Suits were not his style. But it was generous of the vamp to send him a loaner. Stryke’s shoulders were broader than the vampire’s and his biceps were definitely bigger, but he figured he could make it work. Unless it was velvet. It was probably too late to specify a more subtle fabric choice, so he’d keep that worry to himself.
“Thanks, man.” Stryke met Vail’s fist bump and then tweaked Summer’s button nose. “See you at the wedding, Summer.”
The shy toddler tucked her face against her dad’s neck yet, with a giggle, peeked back at Stryke.
“Hug?” Stryke held out his arms.
Surprisingly, she stretched out her arms and he took her into a bear hug. A hug from a kid defied explanation. Stryke wanted a pack of his own. Soon. The urge to raise a couple of sons, and heck, why not a few daughters too, was strong. Hugs seemed a very necessary purpose to life.
“She likes you.” Vail retrieved his daughter.
Summer said, “Puppy?”
“Ha! She’s already got a nose for the wolves,” Vail said.
Stryke playfully barked at her, and Summer giggled.
“See you at the wedding!”
The vampire strode off toward the red Maserati convertible parked down the street. Stryke and Rhys waved to Summer in the front car seat as the twosome rolled by.
“That’s the third Maserati in so many years,” Rhys commented on the sleek vehicle that sported a noticeable dent on the passenger door. “That boy needs to take a driver’s course.”
“Wow.” Stryke shoved his hands in his front jeans pockets. He couldn’t imagine having the kind of disposable income to afford a six-figure car—three times over. While set for life, thanks to investments, he lived a middle-class existence in a small town. He gladly claimed the title of redneck. Happiness to him was living simply.
Though he wouldn’t mind hooking up with a pretty Parisian werewolf while here. The available females back home were slim-pickings, and his werewolf had never had the pleasure of dating another of his breed. It was what he most desired. That, and starting a family that he could call a pack.
Finding a woman had actually become necessity since Stryke’s father had given him the task of starting a new pack. Malakai Saint-Pierre was ready to retire and travel the world with his wife, Rissa. The Saint-Pierre pack consisted of only family. They needed a strong new pack in the area. A diverse pack made up of many families. It was how the werewolves in Minnesota would finally grow their numbers.
The Saint-Pierre pack’s scion was currently Trouble, Stryke’s eldest brother. Trouble hadn’t the calm control to step into his father’s position as principal and lead others. Malakai had said as much to Stryke. His oldest brother was a loose cannon, who picked fights at the drop of a shifty glance and reveled in partying all night. Slightly ADD? Always possible with Trouble.
Stryke was eager to head a pack and had the confidence to do so. But to grow a pack a man needed a good woman at his side.
“So you said you were going to stay on a bit after your family heads home?”
“A few days, for sure.” Stryke returned his attention to Rhys, who owned Hawkes Associates, a sort of bank/savings/storage conglomerate that catered to all paranormal species. “My parents and brothers and sister are here for five days. But Grandpa Creed said we could stay in the apartments as long as we like, so I’m going to fit in some touring when the wedding is over.”
“When you’re not wandering and checking out the sights I’d love it if you’d consider helping me out. I’m shorthanded and have a lot of work in the office. My assistant is out of town on his honeymoon. I’ve a pickup with the Order of the Stake. It would be simple. You’d meet Tor and he’ll hand over the artifacts.”
“Is the Order of the Stake what I think it is?”
“Yes, they are an ancient order of mortal knights who hunt vampires. But they’re cool. Vail informs for them on occasion. Torsten Rindle does their spin. He also handles exchanges with Hawkes Associates. Sometimes the knights in the Order come upon treasure or, let’s just say...their victims’ belongings have to be cataloged. They’ve recently acquired a demon artifact that I bought for my own collection. It wouldn’t take long. But I don’t have the time to run over there myself with all this wedding stuff.”
“I can do that. Doesn’t sound too difficult. Tomorrow?”
“Yes. I’ll text you the information and provide Tor with your name. Thanks, Stryke. I appreciate it. Oh, and now that I think of it... Here.” Rhys tugged out two tickets from his jacket pocket. “You have any interest in gallery showings?”
Stryke shrugged. “I do hope to catch some of the museums and culture while I’m in town. Always willing to put new ideas in my brain and learn what I can about art and history.”
“I think this is a seventeenth-century jewelry collection on display. I got the
