Page 4

  "So you did want me to help look for your mother?" she asked with relief, glad to have the matter cleared up.

  "Yes," Bastien said and then there was a short silence, followed by a curse, followed by, "I forgot to mention that part, didn't I?" A wry laugh came down the line. "I'm sorry, Inez. I'm a little distracted at the moment. So much has been happening, what with Lissianna having her baby, the trouble with Morgan, and then Mother going missing. . . "

  Inez raised an eyebrow as she heard him blow out a long, calming breath. She had no idea who this Morgan was he spoke of, but knew Lissianna was his sister, and had met his mother while in New York. Marguerite Argeneau was a beautiful woman who didn't look a day over twenty-five. It was very difficult to believe she was the mother of Bastien Argeneau who she would guess was in his mid to late twenties himself.

  "I guess I owe you another apology. I know you have a lot to do, but I want you to put everything aside for now and help Thomas find my mother," he explained grimly.

  "Okay," Inez said slowly, then cleared her throat and said, "Sir? Wouldn't it be better to hire a private detective and-"

  "She is a private detective," Bastien interrupted impatiently, and then said, "Well, not really. She's just started into the career, but Tiny, the man she's with, is a proper private detective. A very good one, in fact, and he's missing too. "

  "Oh," she murmured.

  "Look, I know this isn't part of your job, but we're all quite worried about my mother. Thomas knows her habits, but has never spent much time in England. You know it better than he and you're the most organized, details-oriented person I know. Between the two of you, I think you can track her down. It's probably just a case of her getting wrapped up in the case and forgetting to call. "

  Bastien didn't sound as if he believed what he was saying, but Inez didn't question him on it and merely said, "Okay. I'll do what I can, sir. "

  "Well. . . good. I really appreciate your assistance with this, Inez. "

  "Yes sir, but. . . " Inez hesitated and then said, "you mentioned Thomas and the sun. Is he allergic like you are?"

  She shifted, uncomfortable in the sudden silence that came from the other end of the phone, and then explained apologetically, "I only ask because if he is, I should probably arrange to use the car with the treated windows that you use when you are here and need to travel in sunlight. "

  "Yes," Bastien said finally. "Yes, he has the same allergy. It runs in the family. You'd best arrange for my car to take you around. "

  "Okay. "

  "Now I'd best let you get to your breakfast before it gets cold. Would you put Thomas on the phone? I've just recalled something I forgot to mention to him. "

  "Of course. Just a minute. " Lowering the phone, Inez moved to the door, unlocked it, and slid out into the hall. She hurried through the dining room and found Thomas in the sitting room, seated on one of the two love seats facing each other in front of the fireplace. He was apparently writing something down in a binder.

  "Bastien wants to speak to you," she said quietly, as she approached holding out the phone.

  "Oh, thanks," Thomas muttered, not looking at all pleased at the interruption. He set the binder on the coffee table between the love seats, and accepted the phone. "Now, go have your bath before it gets cold. "

  Nodding, Inez turned away, but not before glancing curiously at the binder to see that he hadn't been writing at all, at least not words. The binder held pages with musical tables on them, scored with musical notes scratched in bold black. He'd been writing music.

  Inez pondered that and listened absently as Thomas greeted his cousin in impatient, irritated tones as she crossed back to the door. She had nearly passed into the dining room when Thomas suddenly yelped, "What?"

  Inez turned back with concern, but Thomas glanced her way with wide eyes, and seeing her still there, pulled the phone from his ear and slammed it to his chest.

  "It's all right. He just surprised me. Go on, have your bath. "

  Inez hesitated. His tone hadn't sounded surprised so much as shocked, perhaps even horrified, but he was waving her away, obviously wanting privacy for his call, so she turned away to return to the bathroom.

  It was none of her business, Inez told herself as she crossed the dining room. Besides, her bath would get cold if she didn't hurry. Bastien had said to take the bath and enjoy it and he was the boss, she told herself a smile slowly spreading her lips. Breakfast in the bath. . . how decadent was that?

  She was about to find out.

  Chapter Two

  "You have got to be kidding me," Thomas said into the phone the moment he heard the bathroom door close. "You arranged for someone who doesn't know about our people to help me find Aunt Marguerite? What were you thinking?"

  "I-"

  "Besides, I thought all the senior executives in Argeneau Enterprises and Argent knew about our kind," Thomas interrupted with a frown. "Isn't Inez a vice president or something? She should know. "

  "Yes she should," Bastien agreed quickly. "We bring anyone promoted to an executive position to Canada or New York under the pretext of a tour of the head offices. We then reveal the truth to them and read their minds repeatedly over the next week to see how they accept it. If they are able to accept the information and keep the secret, all is well and they are promoted. If not. . . "

  Thomas grimaced, actually able to visualize his cousin shrugging. "If not. . . " meant the person's memory would be wiped and they didn't get the promotion. In fact, they'd most likely find themselves working for a different company shortly after that, hired away by a headhunter who suddenly noticed how brilliant the individual was. . . with a little help from an immortal. It was hard to work with someone who was horrified by what you are.

  "Right," Thomas said dryly. "So how did Inez get promoted without the indoctrination?"

  "Where did you meet her, Thomas?" Bastien asked quietly.

  "In New York," Thomas answered.

  Bastien rarely spent much time in the New York office, keeping Canada as his main base to work from, but the whole family had been there for Lucern and Kate's wedding. It was where Bastien had met and briefly lost his lifemate, Terri.

  "The afternoon Inez arrived, I knew she'd be tired from the flight," Bastien informed him quietly. "So we just had the meeting to introduce her to everyone-the meeting you walked in on-and then I sent her to her hotel. I intended to indoctrinate her the next day, but Terri arrived from England and. . . I got distracted by her turning and everything and. . . " He blew his breath along the phone line. "I ended up just telling Inez she was promoted and sending her back. I called Wyatt in England and told him to just keep her away from any information that was too revealing and I'd fly over and indoctrinate her at the first chance, but then there was the trouble in California with Vincent's saboteur, then Morgan cropped up to cause his own difficulties, and now Mother is missing and I'm trying to arrange the wedding, but now it's a double wedding with Lucian and Leigh, and Donny is driving me absolutely mad, and-"

  "Bastien," Thomas interrupted his ranting. "I get it. Despite all outward appearances, you're not perfect, dude. You screwed up. Get over it. "

  Another long, drawn-out sigh slid down the phone line. It was followed by a quiet, "Thomas?"

  "Yeah?" he asked with amusement, hearing the annoyance in his voice.

  "Never mind," Bastien muttered and then asked, "Do you have any ideas on how you're going to find Mother?"

  "A few," he admitted reluctantly. "I thought I'd call the other hotels in London to make sure she hasn't just booked into another one. If that doesn't turn up anything, we'll have to check car rental agencies and trains and flights. . . "

  "That's a hell of a lot of calls. Even with the two of you working at it, it could take forever. There are hundreds of hotels in London," Bastien muttered unhappily.

  "Yeah," Thomas agreed quietly, his mind returning to an idea he'd had on the flight o
ver. He hesitated over mentioning it, sure Bastien would think it was stupid, but then sighed and admitted, "I had a thought on the plane. "

  "What's that?" Bastien asked hopefully.

  "Well, I read an article a couple months back about tracking cell phones. If I can track Aunt Marguerite's cell it might be the fastest way to find her. "

  "They can track phones?" Bastien asked with interest.

  "Yeah. Maybe it's only when a nine-one-one call is placed from the phone in the states and Canada, though. I'm not sure, but I'm going to check into it and see if it's possible. I have a techie friend who just moved back to England last year who should be able to help me with that. If it can be done, I'm going to try to track her that way. "

  "That's a good idea," Bastien said.

  Thomas scowled at the surprise in his voice and said dryly, "I do have the occasional worthy idea, Bastien. I know you and Lucern think I'm a loafer and an idiot, but-"

  "We don't," Bastien interrupted. "We know you're intelligent and creative and-"

  "Yeah, right," Thomas interrupted with amused disbelief.

  "We do. Really, we-" He released a slow breath and then he said, "Look, Thomas. Lucern and I know about your music. "

  Thomas stiffened at the bald announcement and then asked warily, "You do?"

  "Yes. Vincent mentioned it. He didn't know it was a secret," Bastien said, answering the unspoken question.

  Thomas grimaced. He'd been composing music for Vincent's plays for decades. It hadn't occurred to him that now that Vincent and Bastien were talking again, Vincent might mention it to him.

  "Why didn't you tell us?" Bastien asked quietly. "Why the big secret?"

  "It wasn't a secret," Thomas said quietly. "Aunt Marguerite and Lissianna have known all along. So does Jeanne Louise and Mirabeau. And Etienne," he added.

  "So only Lucern and I didn't know?"

  "Well, dude, you never asked what my interests were, or what I do with my time when I'm not at Argeneau Enterprises," he said simply.

  There was silence for a minute, and then Bastien said, "And only Lucern and I get the dude business. "

  Thomas grimaced, but didn't say anything.

  "I know you only talk like that to annoy Lucern and me. "

  "What makes you think that?" he asked with amusement.

  "The first clue was that Lissianna gets this really amused look when you do it, Greg just looks curious, and you slip up all the time and forget to stick in the 'dudes' and 'dudettes. ' I've overheard you have whole conversations with her and others that don't include a single 'dude,' which means you only do it with us, and since it does annoy us, I'd guess that's why. "

  "Hmm," Thomas muttered.

  "Look, I know over the centuries, Lucern and I have sometimes acted like we think you're a snot-nosed kid. But it's just. . . " Bastien paused and when he spoke again Thomas could hear the frown in his voice as he tried to explain, "You're like our younger brother, Thomas. When you were growing up you worshipped Lucern and me and wanted to do everything we were doing. "

  "Well, worship is kind of an exaggeration, but I did look up to the two of you," he admitted wryly.

  "Yeah, well, we reacted like typical older brothers, being annoyed and condescending to you. "

  Thomas was silent as he realized it was true. They really had treated him like a younger brother, the same way they treated Etienne.

  "However, you're well past two hundred now and I suppose we have to acknowledge that you've grown up some. So if you'll try to cut out the 'dudes' and 'dudettes,' I'll do my best to be less condescending and older brotherish. "

  Thomas felt his eyebrows rise at the suggestion.

  "Deal?" Bastien asked quietly.

  "Deal," Thomas echoed.

  "Well, now that we have that out of the way. . . Since you're going to be spending the next few days with Inez anyway, and will be right there to read her reaction, why don't you just explain about us to her and-" He stopped when Thomas burst out laughing.

  "No thanks," Thomas said. "Nice try at dumping one of your problems on me, though. "

  "I thought it was worth a shot," Bastien conceded with a laugh.

  Thomas smiled faintly at his admission, and then said, "Surely, there is someone at the company here who could take care of it?"

  "You would think so, wouldn't you?" Bastien asked dryly. "But no one will do it. I've always done it and they expect me to continue to do so. "

  "Nice," he said dryly

  "Yeah. " Bastien sighed. "Okay, look. Just do the best you can to keep her from finding out. Wipe her mind if she sees or overhears something she shouldn't, and I'll bring her over for the indoctrination right after you find Mother. "

  Thomas nodded silently, and then remembered Bastien couldn't see him and said, "Yeah sure. "

  "Good. Call that techie friend and then catch some sleep while you can. But, call me back if he is able to track her phone. "

  "Okay. Later. " Thomas's gaze landed on the open binder on the table as he pressed the button to end the call. Scowling, he reached out and flipped the book closed. The music he was working on was for a comedy, and he wanted the music to be light and bouncy to reflect that. Unfortunately, it was difficult to write light, bouncy music for Vincent's play when his mind was full of worry and concern for Marguerite. Despite his best intentions, Thomas doubted he'd get any work done until he found his aunt. Fortunately, Vincent didn't need it right away.

  Turning his attention back to his phone, Thomas opened the digital phonebook to find his techie friend's number.

  Herbert Longford was his name. An immortal who'd lived in Toronto for a while during one of his breaks from his homeland of England. Thomas had met him several years ago while delivering blood, something he occasionally did when Bastien's couriers got behind, or one was off on vacation. The two had got talking and a friendship had formed. Herb was British, 280 years old, and even more of a computer geek than Etienne. If anyone would know if Marguerite could be tracked by her cell phone, Herb would.