Echoes in Eternity (The Pella Series Book 1) (50 page)

“Hello Alex,” says a deep male voice right behind me. Although the voice is smooth as silk, there is an evident, unconcealed and arrogant rivalry in it.

“Duke Maximilian
fucking
Courcillion…” Alex murmurs to himself. “
Qu’est ce que vous foutez là?
” he asks him with animosity in his eyes. The way he asks his question is in such a disdainful tone that if I didn’t know he asked him what he is doing here, I’d have thought that he told him to go to hell.

“Is this the way you treat a prospective client who is going to spend millions
of dollars at your company’s auctions?” As I shake the contempt in Alex’s voice off, I manage to tear my gaze away from him and turn to see the man with the arrogantly confident voice. He walks closer in swaggering strides as if he owns the place. He’s flanked by two other men who match him in bulk but not in beauty. His bright blue eyes are glinting with secrets and mischief; but they are also the otherworldly eyes of a predator; captivating and trapping you before you can think to run away, seducing your soul. The involuntary wide berth the rest of the guests give the two men, I realize I’m in the smack dead middle of the biggest pissing contest of two powerful alpha males.

I surreptitiously assess Alex’s rival. Other than the shock of black wavy hair falling onto his face, the rest of his hair is pushed back and pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. But that carelessly escaped single lock brushing his brows gives him a casual sophisticated, yet sensual air. His face is strong with a definitive square jaw. His high cheek bones make him look just about thirty and very refined. The gaze he is exchanging with Alex is both new as the sunset and also as ancient as Rome. Duke’s shrewd eyes are insatiably inquisitive. His full lips are inviting me and every other female in the ballroom to look at his wide domineering smile accented with brilliantly white teeth. His face is covered with designer stubble. His eyebrows are thick, but shapely, and irresistibly masculine. He looks like he has a permanent frown, but as he gets very close and stops only a few feet away from us, I can see that it’s a characteristic of his facial features. He’s wearing a custom made silk navy blue three piece suit perfectly fitted on his lean and muscular frame; not a stitch out of place, lined with a crisp white and faint blue striped shirt with ivory cufflinks. The pants of his suit enticingly stretched over his groin. His tie is complementing both his suit and his shirt, predominantly navy blue. He’s about 6’2”, a tad shorter than Alex. His hands are tucked into his pants’ pockets confidently not completely offensively but I note the underlying defensive posture in his stance. I realize immediately that they’re old rivals. But rivals in what? They don’t seem to breathe the same air for long.

The now familiar, barely detectible faint aura tells me that the Duke is one of our kind. This Nephilim looks stunningly sexy but in a different way than Alex. Alex’s presence alone is a declaration of his dominance. But the Duke looks like someone who likes to test his waters first before making any declarations. Alex oozes sex and lust effortlessly. I’ve seen him with very little, in casual clothes, suits, tuxedos and all rolled in mud with not a stitch on him. Alex’s presence alone absolutely sucked out all the air even from the large ballroom. He is wild under his tamed, educated, chiseled and urbane appearance. He doesn’t have to bark commands to get other’s attention, or their obedience. A forbidding gaze is enough for him to scare groups of men off. The Duke on the other hand also appears to be used to getting his way, used to giving orders, and having his will fulfilled to the letter. He has a more refined look about him. He is used to getting things done through others though he seems quite capable of getting them done himself, whereas Alex is more of a hands-on kind of Nephilim; he enjoys absolute dominance. He likes control in all things, knows all things and commands all things. Look at how quickly he took command of me; completely with body and soul. It looks like the Duke doesn’t lack sex appeal either. His confident demeanor tells me that he could snap his fingers and have an assortment of eagerly waiting vaginas to please him. Oh, God! I just described myself. Didn’t I just act like this with Alex; like another eagerly waiting vagina? I seem to lose reason when I’m in Alex’s vicinity. I fear the love and lust I have for him.

I look at both the men again. For a moment I feel I’m in the presence of two very powerful and ancient gods. The Duke’s devastating
good looks are still not a rival to Alex’s, but if any man came close to rival it, it would be this man. His entire demeanor leaves no doubt in making others believe that he’s calculating, dominating, icy and ruthless. Alex on the other hand runs hot. He might act like a glacier but he hides a volcano beneath his demeanor; doubly deadly. I’m in the presence of fire and ice, both deadly, both alluring, both inescapable.

A cold shiver runs through my entire body forming goose bumps over my arms immediately though there is no variation in the temperature of the room. A strange sensation I have never experienced before comes over me; a gentle probing of my thoughts and my thoughts alone. It is unlike what the
Psyche
made me feel. That was more like a hasty search of my soul like a pat down at the airport with seven sets of hands. The slithering caresses of the attempted rummaging of my mind try to lull me. My mind flexes in response, but doesn’t yield, closes in and pushes the vibration away effortlessly. I shift from foot to foot, and instinctively draw closer to Alex. His grip on me tightens. There is a pull, a pulsing vibration coming from the Duke. I blink twice with this realization. I have a strange sense that it’s not the Duke himself causing the sensation. Nevertheless, it’s still through him. The vibrating waves are spreading in thick exploratory probes. The feeling is utterly unique: it’s diabolical, yet also angelic as well as human; it’s all but one single entity and not three. No one, including the Duke himself seems to notice it. What is it and why am I the only one feeling it? Wrapped in this strange sensation and my effort to keep it out of my head, I finally notice the Duke’s overwhelming restraint to avoid looking at me. Why? He doesn’t know me from Eve. Am I repulsive to him; somehow beneath his peerage title?

“I’d ask how you have been, but I know you don’t have variable health. You look the same, if
not a little stressed,” he says to Alex accompanied with a brilliant smile, breaking me out of my reveries.

“What are you doing here Duke Courcillion?” Alex repeats his question in English this time with an expressionless face.

“The correct address would be Your Grace,” the Duke says arrogantly.

“I outrank you both by title and by lineage
neither of which I care for. You don’t see me brandishing my titles.”

“Ah, but you forfeited that when you took on your…” he pauses, “métier...” he adds what seems like a compliment but it in fact is an insult. “Your current occupation, yes? Our
birthright is not holding jobs; we are meant to rule,” he says this with very decidedly arrogant pride.

“Hmm. Don’t they call this preaching to the choir in modern vernaculars? I’m the only existing true commander of our kind, a title I have not yet decided to reclaim but is rightfully mine. However, if you wish to be content with human titles, you can have a list of them, Duke Courcillion,” replies Alex in a low voice with a calm façade clearly mocking his rival. A casual observer would only assume that they’re talking business. But the derision and cleverly concealed mastery over the Duke are written all over Alex’s words. “My métier as you put it,” he continues with self-satisfaction and proprietorship, “provides me with a lot of job satisfaction, contentment, and plenty of joie de vivre. How could I not be delighted in my purpose of existence that my métier as you put it, provides? But then again, how would you know that? You
have never worked a day in your life.”

“The difference between you and I, Pella, is that I don’t want a job that is forced upon me. What I have I will give willingly, readily, most sincerely and wait patiently for the remembrance of the rightful reciprocation.”

“A delusional answer from a man who…” Alex starts, but stops after John clears his throat. He then changes the topics. Maybe I’m not quite trustworthy in John’s estimation and he’s reminding Alex that I’m still on trial. Alex continues as he pulls me in even tighter into his embrace as the Duke’s gaze lingers on Alex’s possessive hand on my shoulder, but never on my face:

“But you avoided answering my question. What’s the purpose of your less than delightful visit?”

“I’m here on business. You’re selling something I want to purchase,” Duke says sharply with barely concealed enmity.

“I’ve got nothing to sell you!” Alex says in an even tone with absolute finality.

“I’ve already made my deposit, and have signed the papers assuring my financial feasibility, though you already know that I need none of those. I’m already in. And besides, there’s a rumor among our uhm… how do you say it in English,” the Duke says pausing with a smile, “…yes, our
kind
that there’s imminent danger for the future of our kind and you are getting together a new generation of
Praetorians
. You haven’t done that in well over…” he starts but Alex gives him a forbidding look. Duke Courcillion smiles ruefully. “I hope you didn’t think you can keep me out of it. Given my position…” he says raising his eyebrows significantly.

“I owe you no explanations Duke! This is the American side of the world. I’m sure you can manage to screw the European side of our kind without any of our help. In short, I don’t want you
here. And I certainly don’t need you!”

“That’s
a hell of a thing to say, Alex!” says the impeccably dressed royalty with barely contained violence. I sense that this is actually the first sincere sentence he’s uttered since his arrival. His eyes glance at me for such a short time that I’m not sure if I’ve seen him correctly, but from John’s body going rigid across from me confirms it. “You
do
need me. I’m willing to put our differences aside, if you can put aside your mulish stubbornness. The past is past,” the Duke murmurs. Alex’s eyes are covered with fiery malevolence.

“Not here. Not now,” he hisses, unblinking. The two men with assumed predominance, exuding power make the enormous ballroom feel
as small as a tiny closet. To a casual observer, they’re heatedly discussing business. But I know better. Then Alex’s rival finally tears his gaze away from him and then the Duke directs his attention on me, his eyes arrest me immediately.

“I apologize for bantering in front of a young lady. Would you forgive my rudeness for not having introduced myself and being ungentlemanly before you?” he says as he extends his hand. The dark glimmer in his bright blue eyes shows that he’s a man who is used to getting his way; a man who is born into power. His voice takes a caramel edge, smooth and sweet, yet sensual. His accent almost
sounds like a well cultured Londoner, but there is a hint of a nearly undetectable French accent. The way he looks at me tells me he’s interested in me, but not just in
I-want-to-get-you-under-me
way; there’s something more; something deeper which unsettles me.

“Ellie Duncan,” I say swallowing and extend my hand to take his.
I expect him to shake it, but he takes my hand up to his lips delicately, his eyes are on me all the while, intense, assessing and probing. He places a kiss on my hand, and lowers it finally covering my hand with his left one. The second his left hand touches me, I immediately feel a cold vibration emanating from a ring on his middle finger rush through me. I’m frozen in my place momentarily with a vision of a bare breasted and proud snake goddess holding a snake with wings up in the air on her left hand, and double axes on the right with the horns of consecration crowning her head. There are three demons, three angels with dark wings and one human worshipping this woman. But between the two groups I notice the head of a kneeling, no…a crouching male before her. I notice that he’s protecting a pregnant woman under his crouch from everyone else. The goddess swings the ax, and the man leaps, and I scream yanking my hand out of his grasp. Alex goes rigid, his entire body on alert, and everyone around me has shocked gazes looking at me, including the Duke.

“I apologize Mademoiselle. Although, I am used to getting that response from women, I generally have to do more than just to kiss their hand. Kissing a lady’s hand is a French custom. I meant no disrespect,” he says and his voice is completely genuine and puzzled. Alex, John, Anthony and the Duke all share the same expression on their faces: stupefied.

“I’m so sorry Monsieur Courcillion. I had a sharp pain suddenly. Just bad timing I suppose. I cut myself earlier and the pain just shot through,” I whisper blushing. His nose flares, his eyes narrow, and a mischievous half smile quirk up on his lips. What’s he trying to do? Alex’s arm tightens around me, he looks puzzled.

“
In that case
, Enchanté Mademoiselle
. Allow me to formally introduce myself;
I’m Maximilian Courcillion,” he croons. “Are you selling, or buying?”

“I beg your pardon?” I ask.

“Are you one of the buyers or one of the sellers?”

“I thought Mr. Pella was the only seller. I’m his assistant,” I reply.

“Assistant?” he asks amused, mulling the word over as if it’s a foreign expression as he casually drifts his gaze to Alex questioning.

“Yes?” I say to affirm, but my answer comes out like a question.