Saving Rafe (Lords of Discord 2)

“As far as I know, Zelda is the only one I’ve met. There are probably others, but I’ve yet to see them, and I doubt they’re as old.”

“Or as powerful?”

Rafe paused at the front of the car and scratched his jaw. “In terms of power…” He stopped again and shrugged. “I don’t know how powerful Zelda is. She’s never really done anything that I’ve seen. She’s given me helpful warnings and advice over the years, and that’s enough for me. Besides, what do I gain by getting on her bad side?”

“But you felt it, right?” Philippe stopped and lifted his hands. He rubbed his fingers together as if he was feeling something in the air that Rafe could see. “When we were in the coffee house, I could feel something. It was different from our power, but big. Like the whole world was holding its breath, waiting just on her permission to keep on spinning.”

That was an accurate description, if strange. It did feel as if all of existence was waiting on Zelda’s pleasure. God, he hoped that wasn’t true.

“Yes, I felt that too.”

They climbed into the car, and Rafe deftly maneuvered them out of the city. Philippe settled deep into the plush leather seat and seemed to watch the passing blur of lights out of his window. But then, Zelda likely gave him a great deal to think about. Rafe wanted Philippe to talk to him, to feel that he could turn to him for advice and comfort, but he had to remind himself that both Jullien and Ezra had served as sounding boards and pillars of advice for far longer than he and Philippe had known each other. It was more likely that Philippe would keep his thoughts to himself until he reached Arsenault Manor.

If he was so damn logical, why the hell was he suddenly jealous of Jullien and Ezra?

Because it came down to the same thought that had shaken him earlier. He didn’t want to share Philippe.

“She had no specific suggestions as to who was hunting the Arsenaults,” Philippe said suddenly, breaking the silence that had engulfed them for nearly thirty minutes.

“I’m sorry. I should have warned you that Zelda is rarely into giving specifics.”

Philippe released a low chuckle. “Yes, I noticed that pretty quickly. It certainly adds to her mystery.”

“She claims it’s partially a matter of the hard facts that she does know and reading the magical ripples of people’s decisions.”

“In short, things change because people can change their minds.”

“Sorry,” Rafe repeated.

“Don’t apologize. She might not have been able to give specifics, but she was able to confirm some fears I’ve had. She warned me that I’ll need to face some hard, ugly facts about my clan.”

Rafe had to bite on his tongue to keep his thoughts to himself. He’d been wanting to suggest that Philippe’s problem could be coming from within his clan, but he was afraid the clan leader wouldn’t hear him out. Rafe felt better knowing Philippe was at least considering it on his own. It was a step in the right direction.

Glancing over at Philippe, he found haunted eyes watching him under the warm glow of the dashboard lights. “She also said that I can still have the things I want most, but it will mean making a very difficult decision.”

Rafe sucked in a breath and jerked his gaze back to the black road in front of them. His hands tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles threatened to crack. What had she meant by that? What did Philippe want most? Could he even want Rafe half as much as Rafe longed for him?

“Did she offer any advice?” Rafe asked after a few seconds. His voice was rough and deep.

“Don’t fuck up.”

They both laughed loudly, breaking the tension that had squeezed into the car with them. It was a little easier to breathe now, even if he didn’t have any new answers. Zelda had made him feel confident that he and his brothers could find their way through their current quagmire. She could have easily been including Rafe’s dilemma with Philippe in with that mess.

“Thank you for arranging that meeting,” Philippe said softly. “She has given me hope.”

“I’m just glad my illustrious contacts could finally come in handy.”

Any comment Philippe might have made was cut off by the ringing of Rafe’s cell phone through the speakers. Lola’s name flashed across the screen and Rafe frowned. Lola only called when there was a problem.

“Lola,” Rafe said, answering the call.

“Problem at Blush,” she snapped.

Rafe gritted his teeth. “I’m at least thirty minutes from the city. Can it hold?”

There was a long pause before Lola finally said, “Maybe.”

“If it can’t hold, then call Marcus now.”

“This isn’t a Marcus problem.”

“What—”

“It’s Gideon,” Lola added, cutting off Rafe’s question. “There’s a claim.”

Rafe’s heart stammered for a second, then shot off as rage flooded his system. “Fuck!” Rafe snarled, hammering the heel of his palm on the steering wheel. “Thirty minutes, Lola. If you can’t hold the vamp, call Marcus. He will back me on this. You fucking call him!”