Hungry for You

Chapter Seventeen

Alex woke up with a little sigh of pleasure andstretched in bed. She felt fabulous, absolutely fabulous, even. She'd dropped off to sleep as soon as she'd lain down on the bed, and then had enjoyed some pretty erotic dreams, all of them featuring Cale. Damn, he was as good in her dreams as he was in real life. And he'd said some wonderful things in her dreams as he'd cherished her with his body. He'd told her everything he loved about her, from her nose to her stubborn determination to prove she could do anything she set her mind to. He'd also said that he'd love her forever.
It might have just been a dream, but Alex was going to take it as an omen and say yes. Even one night with him was worth any heartache that might be waiting. Besides, it wasn't in her nature to refrain from doing something out of fear; otherwise, she never would have taken a chance and started the first La Bonne Vie ... orthe second for that matter. She must have been incredibly exhausted after everything she'd experienced, or Alex was sure she wouldn't have been so confused and uncertain by the time Cale had woken from healing.
A knock at the door drew her attention, and she sat up on the bed to peer toward it. "Yes?"
"Morning," Cale said cheerfully as he pushed the door open and sailed in. "Or good evening, I guess. It's late in the day."
"Hi." Alex smiled, her gaze moving curiously from the tray he carried to the shopping bag hanging over his arm.
"I've brought you a snack, and these clothes for you to put on afterward," he announced, setting the tray on the foot of the bed, and then dropping the large bag beside it.
"Thank you," Alex said with surprise, glancing over the tray. It held some sort of sandwich and a cup of steaming coffee, she noted, and then glanced back to Cale, only to see that he was heading for the door as quickly as he'd entered.
"Take your time, and then meet me downstairs," he said lightly and slid out of the room pulling the door closed.
Alex glanced back to the tray and then pushed the blankets aside and crawled to the end of the bed to grab the coffee. It had already been fixed with cream and sugar just the way she liked it. She smiled faintly as she took a sip, thinking Cale had learned her likes and dislikes quickly. The coffee was delicious, but then so was the toasted bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich, andshe consumed both quickly before reaching for the bag of clothes. It was very large, and she soon realized why. While there were a clean pair of jeans, a sweater, panties, and bra, there were also a snowmobile suit, heavy socks, a hat, gloves, and boots as well. It seemed they were going somewhere.
Alex took a quick shower before dressing. She found Cale similarly geared up and waiting by the front door when she tramped down the stairs in the heavy boots and hoped he hadn't been waiting there long.
"So what's going on?" she asked curiously as she reached the bottom of the stairs. "And where is everyone?"
"Bricker and Mortimer are in the garage at the back of the property, and Sam is in the kitchen," Cale answered, turning to open the front door. "Come on."
"Where?" Alex glanced out at the night sky, and then stepped out and paused with surprise when she saw the waiting snowmobile. "What-?"
"You said you always wanted to try snowmobiling, but never had the time, so I had the guys rent one for me," Cale announced, leading her to the machine. He removed two helmets from the snowmobile's seat and handed her one, then put on his own.
Alex merely held the helmet and stared at him silently, recalling the conversation he was talking about. She was amazed he remembered, and even more amazed that he'd gone to the trouble of renting one for her to try.
"Russell showed me how to drive it. I'll take you for a spin, and then show you how to do it so you candrive me around," he announced, and then started the engine. Talk was impossible over the loud roar of the engine after that. When Cale turned, gesturing her forward, Alex pulled on her helmet and moved forward, silently shaking her head that he'd gone to this trouble. It was really very sweet, and not the first time he'd been so thoughtful. She'd figured out pretty quickly that the man had never been antiquing in his life the day they'd gone, and suspected he'd suggested it purely to please her and keep her happy during her enforced relaxation after the head injury.
Alex didn't know how he'd known she liked antiquing, but suspected Sam had suggested it. And then there was his taking over the business end of things so that she could cook. She knew he preferred that to cooking, but the truth was he didn't have to do either. He was here on vacation but had given up his time to help her. He was a very generous and giving man.
Cale straddled the machine, and then urged her to get on behind him. Once she did, he reached back to catch her hands and draw them around his chest, and then the snowmobile engine's roar suddenly increased in volume. Alex tightened her hold on him as they jumped forward and began to fly across the front yard, but she squealed and ducked her head behind his back when he turned to send them flying up and over a small pile of snow made from shoveling the sidewalk.
They landed with a whumph, and then he sent the machine shooting around the side of the house to the backyard. Alex was too busy holding on at first to really pay attention to anything else, but whenhe started toward the trees, she glanced around and caught her breath. The branches of the thick evergreens were coated with new snow that sparkled in the snowmobile's headlights; but it was the oaks and maples that truly shone, their branches were encased in ice from previous snowfalls that had melted, and they glittered like diamonds when the light hit them. It was beautiful.
She was surprised when Cale suddenly stopped the machine and simply sat staring. Then he said exactly what she was thinking. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Alex smiled and hugged him tighter, whispering, "I love you."
Cale stilled, turned abruptly on the seat, flipping up the visor of his helmet so that he could see her better. "What?"
Alex raised her visor as well, and said firmly, "I love you, and I'm willing to turn."
Rather than seem pleased, he frowned. "Are you sure? I mean, this morning in my room you seemed confused and scared and-"
"This morning I was exhausted," she interrupted firmly, and then pointed out, "It's been a rough couple of days, with a lot happening and little sleep. I was a mess this morning."
"And now? " he asked uncertainly.
"Now I've had some sleep," she said gently. "And while I'm still scared I'll get hurt, I do love you, and it seems to me it's worth taking the chance."
"I wish you weren't scared," Cale murmured, raising one gloved hand to brush a finger down her cheek. "Iwish I could convince you I love you and won't hurt you."
"Time will do that," she said quietly.
Cale hugged her close and sighed. "I hope I never run into that Jack fellow. It would be hard not to break his bloody neck for hurting you."
Alex laughed against his chest. "It wasn't just Jack. He was just the icing on the cake that made me this way. Besides, you already have met him. Or at least talked to him," she added.
"What? I haven't met Jack."
"Jacques Tournier," she said dryly. "Peter said that Jacques tried to hire you away from me. Didn't he?"
"Yes, he did. He called. But he introduced himself as Jacques, and now you're saying he's your Jack?" he asked with a frown.
"He's not my anything," Alex said with a grimace, and then explained, "He was Jack when I knew him in school. He changed his name legally to Jacques Tournier before opening Chez Joie. I guess he figured a French name would do in lieu of a diploma from a French culinary school. He always was an ass," she added dryly.
"He's your biggest competitor?" Cale asked, his voice grim.
Alex nodded. "Pretty much. He-" She broke off with surprise as he suddenly turned and started the engine again. She frowned, unable to ask what was going on. He'd never hear her over the engine. All she could do was hold on tightly as he suddenly sent the snowmobile shooting forward.
Alex wasn't terribly surprised when he headed them straight back to the house, but she was concerned.
"What's going on?" she asked as soon as they were in front of the house, and he shut the engine down again.
"Nothing," he muttered, getting off the machine and striding toward the house. "I just need to have a talk with someone."
Alex narrowed her eyes and hurried after him. "You are not going after Jack."
Cale didn't respond but stepped into the house, and shouted, "Sam?"
"Yeah?" her head poked around the kitchen entrance, eyebrows raised in question.
"Can you call Mortimer and Bricker down at the garage and have them come up here? " he asked as he removed his boots. "I need a word with them. It's important," he added as he finished with his boots and started upstairs in full snowmobile gear.
Cursing, Alex kicked off her own boots and gave chase. "Cale, tell me what's going on."
"Nothing for you to worry about," he assured her as he reached the hall at the top of the stairs. "I just need to check into something."
"That's bullshit," she snapped, following him into his room. "You're going after Jack, and it's stupid. He was just a childhood fling. He means nothing."
"He's still affecting you, which means you could still be affecting him," Cale said absently as he began to remove his outer gear.
Alex paused and stared at him blankly. "What are you talking about? I mean, I know I said it affected me,
but it was just one more thing, not the be all and end all. And it certainly wouldn't be affecting him anymore. He never loved me."
"Alex, his relationship with you, and getting caught stealing your recipe is what got him thrown out of culinary school in disgrace," Cale said patiently as he tossed his helmet and gloves on the bed and began to unzip the jacket of his snowmobile suit. "Of course it's still affecting him. He probably blames you for it somehow. People like him always twist things around in their heads so that they can blame someone else for their own shortcomings."
"But-"
"Did he start Chez Joie before or after you started La Bonne Vie?" Cale asked, tossing his coat on the bed and starting to work on removing the bottoms.
"About six months after," she said, not sure what that had to do with anything.
"How close is it to your restaurant?"
Alex frowned as she watched him step out of the bottoms, leaving him in his jeans and a sweater. "I don't know. Not far. You can walk there on a nice day."
"And do you really think it's a coincidence that he started a French cuisine restaurant just like yours, here in Toronto, so close to yours, and only months after your own restaurant opened?" he asked, hands on hips.
She blinked in surprise at the question, and then admitted, "Well, I never really thought about it."
"And he's changed his name to Jacques Tournier to give himself more credibility because he doesn't have the culinary school's stamp of approval as you do,"he added dryly, and then frowned. "You really should have told me this earlier."
"I didn't tell you because it wasn't important," Alex said defensively. "And it still isn't."
"What's up?" Bricker asked, leading Mortimer into the room.
"Jacques Tournier, the owner of Chez Joie, Alex's biggest competitor, is also Jack Turner, the jerk who messed with her head in culinary school and got kicked out in disgrace for stealing her recipe," Cale announced as if they would understand the significance where she hadn't, and much to her amazement they appeared to.
"Interesting," Bricker said slowly.
"More than interesting," Mortimer said dryly. "That's one hell of a coincidence."
Alex's eyes widened, and she turned on Cale with dismay. "You told them about Jack?"
"It wasn't Cale. Sam told us some guy at culinary school broke your heart and stole your year-end project," Bricker said absently, his expression thoughtful as he apparently considered the ramifications of Cale's words.
"Maybe we'd better make a visit to Chez Joie," Mortimer said quietly.
Alex turned on him with amazement. "Why? This is stupid. What-?" She stopped abruptly as she felt a ruffling in her mind and turned furiously on Bricker and Mortimer. "Cut that out. If you want to know something, ask me. Don't read my mind."
Bricker raised his eyebrows. "She's more sensitive than most. She felt me poking around."
Alex merely scowled. "What were you trying to find?"
"It's all right, I found it," he said with a shrug, and then glanced to Cale, and announced, "She hasn't connected any of the events."
"What events?" Alex asked through gritted teeth.
Cale moved to her side to take her hands, "Honey, you've had a lot of setbacks and problems recently."
"Yes, I had noticed," she said dryly. "It's been one thing after another for months."
"Well, I don't think it's just bad luck," he said quietly.
Alex stilled. "What do you mean?"
He hesitated, and then said, "When I first found out about all the troubles you'd been having, it bothered me. It reminded me of my family."
"Your family?" she asked with surprise, and then shook her head. "How?"
"You remember I told you my brothers were all soldiers?"
"Actually, you said warriors, and then claimed it was your English and you meant soldiers," she said, recalling the conversation ... and then she recalled how old Sam had said he was and raised her eyes to his, and said, "You really meant warriors, didn't you?"
He nodded. "My father hired himself out as a mercenary. As my parents had sons, he trained each of us in battle, and we joined him until we had a small army. We were considered the best in the business. But we had a competitor, another immortal, Niger Malumus. He had his own small army of sons, and they vied for the same contracts. It was no big deal when both groups were small. They often ended up both being hired andfighting together and did so for centuries. But as each side grew in number, one or the other was hired rather than both, and they started competing for contracts. It was a friendly competition at first, but then it got less friendly ... and then we started having a run of bad luck," he said grimly. "Sudden accidents, horses going wild and throwing their riders, weapons with defects, small fires starting in the stables."
Cale sighed and ran a hand wearily through his hair. "We didn't realize it at the time, but one of our men was a traitor, paid to make these accidents happen. But those accidents were just the appetizer. Niger was working himself up to removing us as competition, permanently."
"What happened?" Alex asked quietly when he paused.
Cale shook his head. "That's the hell of it. We don't know for sure. One day a messenger came with a supposed job offer. My father and eight of my eleven brothers rode out."
"Why only eight?" Alex asked.
"I had been thrown from my horse that morning. One of those accidents that kept happening," he said bitterly. "I'd broken my back in a fall from my usually faithful horse, who suddenly went wild and threw me into a tree. I was still healing. As for my two still-surviving brothers, the eldest, Darius, lived a little distance away with his new life mate and my brother Caleb was sent to collect him and catch up to my father and the others on the way."
He paused and swallowed and closed his eyes. "Caleband Darius caught up to them sooner than expected, a mere hour from our stronghold. They'd ridden into some kind of trap and been slaughtered down to the last man. Everyone beheaded and left to rot on the side of the road like so much garbage."
"I'm sorry," Alex breathed, squeezing his hands. She couldn't even imagine it. Eight brothers and a father lost in one night, murdered for the sake of a few jobs. "What happened to Niger Malamus and his sons? Did they ever catch them? "
Cale sucked in a deep, steadying breath. "They were taken care of, eventually," he said quietly. "But it didn't bring my father and brothers back."
She glanced down to their entwined hands and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Cale, I can't imagine suffering such a huge and tragic loss, but I really don't understand how that relates to Jacques."
"Don't you?" he asked quietly. "I see the same pattern. Competition, setbacks, accidental deliveries of the wrong supplies ..."
"I had a really bad project manager. That's why I fired him," she pointed out impatiently.
"And the fire right after you bought the house?" Bricker asked.
"That was an electrical fire," Alex said at once. "It was an old house, old wiring."
"What about the attack at your restaurant?" Mortimer reminded her.
"A mugging attempt," she said firmly.
"And then the pickup that forced me off the road," Cale said grimly.
Alex blinked in surprise. "I'm sure that was just a drunk driver."
"Alex," he said dryly.
"I know there have been a lot of problems lately. Believe me I know," she added grimly. "But it's just been bad luck. I don't think anyone is behind it. No one has any reason to want to hurt me, especially Jacques. For heaven's sake, if anyone has a right to a grudge between him and me, that's me. And I don't."
"Well, someone does," Bricker said dryly.
"Why would you say that?" she asked with surprise.
Mortimer glanced to Cale. "You didn't tell her?"
"Tell me what?" Alex asked, turning to Cale with a frown.
He looked grim. "When I was being forced off the road, I started to try to take control of the other driver to get him back in his lane. I thought perhaps he was drunk or having a heart attack."
"He probably was," Alex said at once. "Couldn't you control him?"
"I didn't get the chance. You laid on your horn, distracting me, and I glanced around to see that I was headed for the concrete divide. I gave up on worrying about the other driver and concentrated on trying to avoid the crash. But while I didn't get to read the driver's mind, I did get the flavor of his thoughts before you honked."
"The flavor of his thoughts?" she asked with confusion.
"People's minds are ..." He frowned. "Think of it like a dish. You smell it before you actually bite into it, and that gives you a hint of what you're about to taste."
"Our brains smell?" Alex asked with amazement.
"No." He chuckled softly. "But they have a general feeling about them that you can sense before you actually penetrate and touch on their thoughts. For instance, you would have a general sense of confusion and unconcern before penetrating a drunk's brain, or you might get a sense of panic and pain before touching on someone having a heart attack." He waited for her to nod that she understood, and then said, "The driver didn't have either of those."
Alex felt her heart begin to sink. "What did he have?"
"It was a heavy feeling. The only way to describe it would be malice," he said quietly. "I'm pretty sure he knew exactly what he was doing. He deliberately ran me off the road."
Alex frowned. "Who would do that to you?"
"I don't think he knew it was me. It was your car," he pointed out quietly.
Alex stared at him wide-eyed, floored by the possibility that anyone would wish her harm, but then shook her head again. It just couldn't be. It was ridiculous. Why would anyone deliberately try to drive her off the road?
"Bricker called around while I was healing," Cale said quietly. "No one reported the accident to the police, and no one has shown up at any of the many auto shops in town with the kind of damage that pickup must have suffered when I drove up the side of it. Do you know what kind of vehicle Jacques drives?"
Alex shook her head with a frown, and then turned abruptly and headed out of the room.
"Alex? Where are you going?" Cale asked, following her past Mortimer and Bricker. She didn't glance back to see if they were following too, but heard their footsteps as the trio trailed her down the stairs.
"Alex," Cale said impatiently, catching her arm at the bottom of the stairs.
"I'm going to find out what Jacques drives," she muttered, shaking his hand free and hurrying into the kitchen.
Sam was there and turned with surprise as she entered with the three men following. "What's happening?"
Alex ignored the question, a bit miffed with her sister for blabbing about her relationship with Jack to Bricker and Mortimer. She moved to the phone on the counter but heard Mortimer murmuring and knew he was explaining things.
It was seven o'clock on Tuesday. La Bonne Vie was closed, but Chez Joie stayed open seven days a week, and Mark would be working, so he wouldn't be available to take Bev out. Alex called her at home, relieved when she answered after only a couple of rings. That relief turned to concern as she heard the girl's watery voice and sniffles.
"Bev? Are you okay?" she asked, worried the girl was coming down sick.
"Alex?" Bev asked in a stunned voice.
"Yes, are you okay?" she repeated.
"Me?" the girl practically shrieked. "Oh, my God, I've been worrying sick about you. I was so upset I-"
"I'm fine," Alex interrupted with a shake of the head. She'd been standing right beside Cale when he'd called Bev from the hospital after the attack. He'd told her she was all right, for heaven's sake. "It was just a bump on the head. That guy who attacked me didn't get the chance to hurt me thanks to you."
"That bastard," Bev suddenly growled.
Alex raised her eyebrows, but merely said, "Look, I was just calling because I wondered if you knew what kind of vehicle Mark's boss drives?"
"Jacques?" Bev said the name with disgust. "No I don't, and I don't want to know. What a jerk. Do you know he gave Mark some cock-and-bull story about seeing on the news that you'd been in a terrible crash? He said your car was an accordion, and it looked fatal. He asked Mark if I'd heard anything or knew what was going to happen to the restaurant. Of course Mark called me right away, and I've been a wreck ever since. I've been calling your house, and when I didn't get an answer, I started trying to find your sisters' numbers to call them. I even called the hospitals and the police to try to find information about you. I should have known when they couldn't tell me anything that the dirt bag was lying."
The phone still pressed to her ear, Alex turned slowly toward Cale, Mortimer, and Bricker. One look at their grim faces told her they'd heard everything. Jacques was out to get her, she realized with dismay. She already knew that Bricker and some other men had cleaned up the crash site and moved her car so that no one would come upon it and ask questions. No one but the people in this house knew about the crash ... except for the driver of the black pickup. There had been no newsreport. Jacques had been fishing for information and made that up to get it.
"Bev, I'm at Sam's. Get the number from your call display and call me if you need me," Alex said, and pushed the button to end the call.
"Umm, our number won't show on call display. It's unlisted and blocked," Bricker announced as she set the receiver back in its cradle.
Alex waved that away, not particularly caring, and glanced to Cale. Only one word came out of her mouth. "Why?"
Cale came forward at once, taking her in his arms. Hugging her, he rubbed her back soothingly. "I don't know, honey. But we'll find out."
"Yes, we will," she said grimly, pulling back to stare at him firmly. "I'm coming with you."
Cale opened his mouth in what she suspected would have been a protest, but Mortimer beat him to it. "I'm afraid I can't allow that."
Alex jerked out of Cale's arms and stepped around him to glare at her sister's boyfriend. "Can't allow it?" she asked sharply. "Who the hell do you think you are? You can't stop me if I want to go."
"Umm, well actually, Alex, he can," Sam said gently. "It's his job."
Alex narrowed her eyes and then turned them onto Mortimer. "Not in a band, I take it?"
Mortimer grimaced, which made Bricker give a bark of laughter before he said, "He hated that cover."
Alex sighed. She should have known. She'd been at the house several times and never even seen a musical instrument here. Why had that never occurred to her before? Probably because they hadn't let it, she answered herself. Jesus. They were like little demigods, controlling people and arranging things the way they liked. Shaking her head with disgust, she asked, "So what are you? "
"Vampire cops," Bricker said at once making both Mortimer and Cale wince. He seemed amused at their pained reactions and told her, "The old ones don't like the term vampire."
"And you shouldn't either. Vampires are-"
"Much sexier than immortals," Bricker interrupted firmly. "Heck, they're all the rage today. We'd get a lot more tail if we came out to the world and called ourselves vamps."
"Right, because so many people are necrophiliacs looking for undead lovers," Sam said on a laugh. "I don't think so, Bricker."
"Back to the point," Mortimer said grimly, turning his gaze back to Alex. "I'm afraid you can't leave here until you make up your mind about being Cale's life mate or not."
"I already have. I told him outside that I'd be his life mate," Alex said at once.
"Oh, thank God!" Sam rushed across the room to hug her tightly with relief. More tightly than she realized, Alex thought as she began gasping for air.
"Sam, honey, you're a bit stronger than you realize," Mortimer said gently. "You might want to let Alex go before you suffocate her."
"Oh, sorry!" Sam let her go and patted her armapologetically. "Sorry, I'm just so happy." She hugged her again, less tightly this time, and babbled, "I was so worried you'd say no, and then they'd wipe your mind, and we'd never be able to see you again."
Alex frowned. "You mean Cale wouldn't be able to see me again."
"No. Jo and I wouldn't either now that we're immortals too. It might have sparked memories, and they wouldn't have allowed it. You'd have been lost to us forever."
Alex stared at her blankly, feeling like she'd just been punched in the gut. She then shrieked, "Jo's an immortal too?"
Sam winced, and then offered apologetically, "Yeah. Nicholas turned her just days after they met."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Alex asked furiously. "It was bad enough when you didn't tell me about Mortimer, but I can sort of understand that. But Jo? Our baby sister? You should have told me!"
"They wouldn't let me," Sam said at once. "They were afraid it would influence your decision on whether to accept Cale as a life mate and turn or not. That's why they wouldn't let me tell you that if you said no, you'd lose us too."
Alex turned to glare at the three men, but they were no longer there. They'd used the opportunity her distraction had afforded and slipped out of the house.