Double Alchemy: Climax (32 page)

Barton Sinclair waved a hand in dismissal. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I was merely complimenting the lady.”

Valensia leaned forward, her long fingernails tapping impatiently on the table. “Do you have a question for me, James?” she drawled.

“I do. I merely want to know what the Praetorium is bringing to this relationship that we didn’t already have. I have no problem with a union as long as it benefits us but frankly, I’ve never quite seen where Quinn sees this benefit to be.”

Valensia sat back and regarded James thoughtfully. “The Consortium has definitely done a lot to benefit the witches. Your researchers figured out the Book of Shadows. Quinn and his Warlocks also got rid of the Witchfinder General and his new vessel. So we do owe you a debt of gratitude. But I confess I find your question a trifle naive. Do you own a company?”

Barton Sinclair looked a little taken aback by the sudden question. “I do. What has that to do with anything?”

“Have you heard of a little business tradition called networking?” Valensia tilted her head enquiringly.

“Of course I have. It’s a common business practice,” James blustered.

“You speak to people who provide you with information, sales leads, and intelligence and you make valuable allies in your quest to build your business. It’s how you grow and become stronger as a business. Would you agree with that?”

Quinn was smiling and Daniel could see he knew where this was going, as did he.

“I suppose so.” Barton Sinclair looked a little uncomfortable with some of the sly glances and chuckles around the room.

“Then I confess I’m a little confused as to why you wouldn’t see the union between our two organisations being much the same. We share intelligence, we support each other, we make friends and allies and when things go wrong, together we find the solutions. Is that not a very useful alliance to have?”

Valensia reached down and picked up her large handbag sitting by her side. She plonked it loudly on the table and reached inside and took out a large plastic bag, inside which resided some strange-looking object.

“I’m sure you’ll all recognise what this is.” Valensia reached in and took out the object and there was a collective loud gasp of disgust around the table. It was a hand, cut off at the wrist and still covered in dry blood.

Daniel stared at her in awe.
The woman had a dismembered hand in her bloody handbag!

“This belonged to a witch who planned to disrupt the last summit we had back in June. I’ve been keeping him on ice especially for a situation like this one. Had he made it through with his plan, many of you sitting around this table may well not be here now. My team got wind of this plot simply through their own vigilance. I dealt with this particular traitor personally. Now, I know a lot of you will say that if we hadn’t had a union, we wouldn’t have had a summit, and hence the problem wouldn’t have occurred. That was what you going to say, wasn’t it, James?”

She looked over at Barton Sinclair who was sitting looking at the lonely hand in fascination, his mouth open as if poised to speak.

Her voice hardened. “But you all know that if it hadn’t been this summit, it could just as well have been another one of your Warlock conferences as this particular witch had a thing against the Consortium. He had a personal axe to grind. So I suppose you could say that I saved your bacon.”

She looked over at Quinn and he acknowledged her words with a wide smile and a wink. “And that I think sums up quite nicely what I think we bring as a benefit to this union.” She looked around the table. “Are there any more questions for me?”

The room remained silent. Valensia sat back, placed the hand back in the bag and sealed it. She took out a small container of antiseptic wipes from her bag and took one out, rubbing it over her hands. She waved at the baggie containing the severed hand. “Not very hygienic having one of those in your bag, but it serves its purpose.”

She put it and the container back in her bag and sat back in her chair. Daniel had never seen such a display of complete confidence and sheer power. It was such a turn-on. He was entranced at the knowledge that if Quinn and Valensia had actually become a couple and had children, it would have indeed been a riveting union and an incredible family dynamic, one that would have definitely been out of this world.

“Gentleman, if there are no more questions for Valensia, I suggest we turn our attention to Daniel.” Quinn’s voice was tinged with amusement and he looked over at Daniel, who drew a deep breath.

Barton Sinclair was talking quietly to Troy, but when Quinn shot a fierce glance in his direction the two men fell quiet.

The door opened and a woman came in bearing a trolley filled with tea, coffee and biscuits. There were a few satisfied murmurs throughout the room.

Quinn chuckled. “Change of plan. Daniel, I know you’ve got a few stories to tell us. I suggest we all help ourselves to a drink then we can get back together in about ten minutes.” He stood up and walked over to Valensia as the men in the room made their way toward the catering trolley.

“Well done,” he murmured quietly as Daniel looked on. “That was unexpected but totally in character. I should have known you’d do something so totally out there.”

He grinned at her with sheer affection and Daniel felt a little jealous, even thought he knew he was being totally unreasonable.

Quinn, my boy, you’ve got a bloody man of your own. You don’t need to charm this woman as well! God, I hate getting older.

Valensia moved closer to Quinn, her hands lightly grasping his bicep, and Quinn’s nostrils flared. She nodded at him in acknowledgement of the compliment. “I’m glad you enjoyed the show. I’m pleased I can still shock you just a little bit.”

Her voice was husky. Quinn moved away from Valensia, a look of slight uncertainty on his face. That expression on his face wasn’t one Daniel would have expected to see from Quinn.

Valensia turned to Daniel and laid a soft hand on his shoulder as she leaned into him. A sense of insignificance assailed him in the presence of this tall, powerful and extremely alluring woman.

“I’m looking forward to what you have to say, Daniel. I’m just parched, though. I need coffee.” She moved over to join the rather willing men at the drinks cart.

Quinn looked at Daniel. “She’s been up to her old tricks again,” he said angrily. “Just as I think I can begin to trust her, she goes and messes it up.”

Despite his perverse feeling of resentment towards his nephew, Daniel was curious about Quinn’s words. “What are you talking about?” he asked, watching Valensia laughing with the group of men around the cart.

Quinn looked at him as if he’d said something he shouldn’t. “Uhm, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“I saw your reaction when she touched you.” Daniel said softly. “Something happened to you.”

His nephew looked very ill at ease. “She has this annoying habit of enhancing her Fey side, being half witch, half Fey, and she knows it makes me feel bloody uncomfortable.”

“Ah. I see, that wonderful Fey-Warlock sexual thing. I didn’t realise she was half Fey. I can see that must be a little difficult for you.”

“The woman just can’t accept the fact I’m with Cade. She’s a bloody menace but I need to work with her.”

“Quinn, I heard that.” Valensia’s voice cut in like iced water as she came up behind Quinn. Daniel turned to see her pale face and clenched lips. She looked formidable.

“I have not done anything to attract you, I can assure you, you arrogant prat.” She spoke the words between gritted teeth. “If you’re having urges for me, they’re your own, not due to anything I’m doing.” She glanced down at Quinn’s groin. “Perhaps you should be controlling yourself a little more, or perhaps you’re not getting enough at home.” The witch spat out the words.

Quinn’s face was expressionless. Valensia turned to Daniel. “I think my part of this dog and pony show is over. I shall remain and listen, Quinn, but don’t bloody talk to me. Daniel, it’s been lovely meeting you, which is more than I can say for your imbecile of a nephew. Perhaps we could get together some time for a drink and you can fill me in personally on your work. I think I might like that.”

She handed Daniel a small silver-embossed card. “My number. Call me.”

Valensia moved to the far end of the boardroom table and sat down. Her body language was one that dared anyone to approach her. Daniel thought she might rip off people’s heads and chew on them just for fun. He looked at the card in his hand then up at Quinn’s white face.

“Erm, that didn’t go too well for you. She was really pissed off.”

Privately he was wondering whether there had been any double entendre in her words about “filling her in personally,” or whether it was just perhaps his mind in the gutter. This woman seemed to have that effect on men. And for the first time in his life, Quinn seemed lost for words.

“I really thought—” Quinn shook his head as he cut off his own words. “I thought she was trying it on. Shit, she
was
pissed off with me, wasn’t she?” He looked around to see if anyone else had noticed the heated exchange then glanced at Valensia who ignored him completely.

Quinn looked at the card in his hand. “Daniel—”

“Oh no, don’t you dare get involved. I’m a big boy now. I’ll make my own mind up about things.” Daniel heard the steely determination in his voice. “I can look after myself.”

Quinn shrugged his broad shoulders. “Okay. You do that. Don’t say I didn’t try and warn you.”

He moved away to round up the men for the rest of the meeting. Soon they were seated again listening to Daniel tell them about the latest news from RAW and the latest plans to murder witches by the Witchhunters Alliance.

“They asked me to sanction two killings earlier this week. Witch and Warlock. I did, but it was a touch-and-go situation to try and save them both in time. It was almost like the Honour Whitebrook killings. Something happened to scupper our plans and we had to work twice as hard to get to them.”

Quinn winced at the reminder of the Whitebrook incident.

“But I’m slowly feeling as if I’m running out of time. I think there have been too many last-minute rescues and I think they may be getting a little suspicious. Not of me, per se, but that something isn’t quite right. So I need to be very careful and keep my head down.” He looked around at the serious faces watching him speak. “If I was a real bastard, I’d say I need to let someone die so I build some more trust. But I’m afraid I’m not that man and I can’t do that.”

He was very aware of Quinn’s utter stillness at the head of the conference table as some eyes glanced furtively in his direction. There were still some around the table who believed that Quinn’s decision to delay the rescue of the Whitebrook family had been a stroke of genius and one that Quinn had planned all along to enforce the deaths of the family. But they didn’t get to see the man who had nightmares and woke up soaked in sweat, his face white and his body trembling with grief.

James Barton Sinclair leaned forward in his chair. “Daniel, we are all very supportive of your role in the WA and it has been a key position of strategy for this Council for the past many years. We can certainly appreciate your position and the personal sacrifice you have made in getting where you are. It appears to me that we need an event that will further cement your position in this organisation, one that cannot be made with emotion and one that is made solely with the interests of the greater good. I confess there was a time when I believed Quinn to be of the same opinion but he appears to have grown a conscience, something which ultimately may lead us to a path down which we do not want to travel.”

Quinn’s fists clenched and unclenched on the table and Daniel sensed the imminent danger in the man’s body language as he listened to James’ dissertation. He knew Quinn was not upset at what was being said about him but rather about the direction that the conversation was taking.

Barton Sinclair looked around the table, obviously relishing the attention of the Council. “As Grand Master, there may be certain decisions that need to be made that are unpalatable and frankly, inhuman. But this position demands such decisions be made and one cannot ignore one’s duty for the sake of humanity. Some lives need to be sacrificed for the many. There are others around this table that feel the same way.” His lips curled in a sneer. “And as Justin Leichner is not here tonight to support Quinn as usual, we may be able to speak more freely on this issue.”

“Are you saying you think Quinn should sanction these witch killings to secure my place in the WA?” Daniel’s voice was conversational but inside he was burning with fury at what Barton Sinclair was trying to do. Valensia was regarding Barton Sinclair with eyes that were acid with dislike.

“You’re
his
inside man, so
his
to do with as he sees fit.” James voice hardened. “I know what I would do if my key man’s position in the WA was threatened.”

Quinn stood up slowly, his hands drawn into tight fists and his face black with fury. “I’d be interested to hear what Valensia has to say about that, James.” He gestured in the witch’s direction.

She watched Quinn, then James with flinty eyes. At the expression on her face Barton Sinclair blanched. Valensia regarded him with scorn as she rose to Quinn’s challenge. “You’d like to tell me, the Regina of the Praetorium, that as well as Warlocks, you intend having some of my people killed to protect a man, a human, who is working with the Consortium of Warlocks?”

“That will never fucking happen,” Daniel said hotly. “I would die rather than see others die for me. Barton Sinclair, you are a pompous, arrogant and dangerous arsehole.” He turned to his nephew in frustration. “Quinn, how can you let him say these things—”

Quinn waved an imperious hand, cutting him off. “Daniel, calm down. I have no intention of letting James put any of his misguided ideas into play. Neither will Valensia, I assure you. It’s not something either of us would condone for a millisecond.”

“And you know her so well, you bedded her. You know her inside out,” James said with a sneer. He looked around the room, pleased with his own wittiness.