"Then how--?"
"I'm his mother," she said simply. "I can read all my children as easily as reading a book. He can't keep secrets from me. Although he tries," she added with a grin.
Jake smiled wryly and sank back in his seat. He should have suspected as much. His own mother was the same way and had been since she'd met Roberto Conti Notte and turned when Jake was a boy. He had never been able to keep a secret from her after that, which was damned dismaying to a teenage boy full of hormones. Knowing your mother would know what you were doing was pretty inhibiting sexually.
"I've known from the beginning where you were and respected your need for privacy while you adjusted."
"Until now," he said quietly.
"Until now," Marguerite agreed solemnly. "Because now I need you."
That brought him upright in his seat, his eyebrows high. "You need me?"
"Yes." She nodded solemnly, but then sat back and peered past him.
Jake wasn't surprised to glance around to see the waitress returning with their drinks.
"Are you ready to order, or do you need a few more minutes?" the girl asked as she set down their drinks.
Jake glanced to Marguerite as she peered down to her menu. She had opened it, but hadn't really looked at it before this he didn't think. On the other hand, he hadn't even opened his, but didn't need to. He had eaten here many times. The workers were always annoyingly perky, but the food was also always great. It was why he'd suggested it as the meeting spot.
"I know what I want," Jake said now, "But Marguerite might need--"
"Ooh, the quail sounds lovely," Marguerite interrupted.
The waitress chuckled and nodded as she took her menu, and then glanced to Jake in question. "The Grilled hanger steak for you?"
Jake blinked in surprise. "I--Yes," he said slowly, a little concerned that she knew that.
"It's what you've ordered the last three times you've come here," the waitress said gently as she took his menu. "At least the last three times I've been working."
"Right," Jake said, and felt a moment's guilt that he hadn't recognized the girl. Before the turn he'd always made sure to remember details like that, making note of people who served him, showing his appreciation for good service. He'd changed since the turn though. His thoughts now were usually turned inward, and he rarely paid attention to his surroundings or even the people around him unless he was at work where that was a necessary part of the job.
Clearing his throat, he offered her an apologetic smile and nod. "Thank you . . . Melanie," he added, glancing to her name tag. He would make sure to remember her in future.
"My pleasure," she assured him, beaming again before whirling away.
"She likes you and thinks you're attractive," Marguerite said with a grin the moment the girl was out of earshot.
"Yeah, that happens a lot since the turn," he said dryly. "I'm guessing this immortal business includes some kind of chick magnet deal or something?"
"Not exactly," she said solemnly. "Although the scientists at Argeneau Enterprises have noted that we secrete higher levels of certain hormones and pheromones that might affect mortals, both male and female."
"Of course," he said bitterly. "It would make us better hunters."
Marguerite glanced down to her tea and raised it for a sip. As she swallowed and set the cup down, she said carefully, "You must have a lot of questions about how you are different now."
"No," he said gruffly, and then pointed out, "While mother and Roberto made sure I was in the dark as a child, I've known about immortals since I was eighteen. I learned a lot in the forty years before I left California. I know most things I think. I just never realized that my brother, Neil, was such a chick magnet because of what he was, not because of his natural charm and wit."
"Well, see, there's one benefit at least," she said cheerfully. "You're a chick magnet now."
Jake didn't argue the point, but simply said, "You said you need my help?"
Marguerite looked like she wanted to say more on the benefits he'd gained when he'd been turned, but she let it go with a sigh and then asked, "I understand you work as a bodyguard now?"
Jake nodded. Before being turned he'd been a vice president at V.A. Inc. in California, a company with diversified interests. Vincent Argeneau had been the president, but the man had been little more than a figurehead, leaving the actual running of the company to Jake and his brother, Neil. Jake had been the daytime vice president. Neil had taken over at night. But after the turn . . . well, Neil already had the nighttime gig, and most companies didn't need day and night V.P.s. It was only immortal owned companies that did that, catering to both mortals by day and immortals by night. But Jake hadn't wanted to deal with immortals at that point. If anything he'd wanted to get as far away from them as possible, but a similar position in a mortal company was impossible. Vampires didn't work days.
Jake had needed a new career to go with his name change, one he could do at night and one that needed minimal training. He'd always been interested in martial arts and had trained at it since he was six. The bodyguard shtick had seemed a good deal; interesting, exciting even. Boy had he got that wrong. Mostly it was standing around, eyeballing crowds for hours on end. But it was a reason to get up in the morning.
"Well, I have someone who needs guarding."
Jake was pulled from his thoughts by that announcement. He stared at Marguerite with surprise. "Surely Lucian would arrange for Rogue Hunters to protect any immortal who needs--"
"No," Marguerite interrupted. "This situation has nothing to do with immortals. She's mortal and so is the person who is a threat to her."
Jake sat back in his seat, and merely quirked an eyebrow, inviting her to explain. Marguerite was an immortal, and an old one. At least seven hundred or something, he thought, though he wasn't positive. He was pretty sure she'd been born in medieval days. As far as he knew, everyone she knew was immortal. He couldn't think what mortal she would be concerning herself with.
"Her name is Nicole Phillips. Her mother, Zaira, is the sister of my housekeeper, Maria. Maria and Zaira were always close, and their daughters grew up more like sisters than cousins. Zaira was a housewife. She kept little Pierina at home with Nicole for Maria after school and during the summer, but there were days she was sick, or had an appointment and Maria used to bring both Pierina and little Nicole to the house those days with my permission. It was never any trouble," Marguerite added as if she had to
explain why she'd allowed it. "They were good girls. They'd play in the yard, or watch movies inside while Maria worked. And it was nice to hear children's laughter in the house."
Jake nodded, encouraging her to continue.
"Well, Nicole was always an amazing artist, and she did very well, growing up to be a very successful portraitist. Her work is well respected and much sought after," she assured him, and then grimaced and said, "And then a couple years back she met a charming Italian while on vacation in Europe. By all accounts, he seemed to adore her. It was all very romantic, a whirlwind affair. He was suave, promising to show her the world and proclaiming his love in the most passionate terms . . . and she was smitten. Then they married."
Jake's mouth quirked at her change of tone on those last three words. They sounded flat and grim. "I gather things changed once they were married?"
"Oh yes," she said on a sigh. "Nicole tried to hide it, but--"
"There is no hiding it from you," Jake suggested quietly.
"It wasn't me who figured it out first," she corrected. "As I mentioned, Nicole was always very close to Pierina, but she moved to Italy briefly to be with Rodolfo--"
"That's the suave Italian?"
"Yes, Rodolfo Rossi. She lived with him in Italy for a bit and then they married and moved back to Canada, but to Ottawa rather than the Toronto area where her family is . . . at his insistence," she added grimly. "He claimed he could better find a job in his field in Ottawa. But I realize now that he wanted to isolate her from her family."
Jake nodded silently. That was usually what happened with an abusive mate, lasso the woman and move her away from family and friends and any kind of support or interference they might offer.
"Fortunately, Pierina came out here to Ottawa to visit Nicole," Marguerite continued, and then told him, "She wasn't happy with what she found. At first, Pierina just thought Nicole was working herself too hard, working her way into the grave in fact. She insisted she come to Toronto for a girl's weekend to relax and I invited the two of them and their mothers for dinner. I wanted to ask Nicole about doing a portrait of Christian and Carolyn for me," she explained.