Enemy Mine

Chapter 39

Vincent's idea of ASAP meant booking a flight to Chicago the next day, so Thanksgiving with my parents had to be postponed again. Mom assured me the ham would keep fine in the freezer, and the sandwiches we planned for Saturday were rescheduled closer to Christmas. I hadn't completely unpacked from our trip to Italy, so I threw a few clean outfits in and I stood ready at the curb when Vincent wanted me there. His phone had been pinging him all morning, which had him distracted.

"Reese, I need to tell you who's picking us up from O'Hare. It's Ruben Bourdain."

"Ruben? As in my half-brother? Why? I thought..."

"When he heard we were coming, he insisted on meeting us. I've sparred with Ruben. We have a history. I couldn't say no."

I blinked away the traffic dust, staring at Vincent's beautiful face as he made his compelling argument. In a boardroom, I would be putty in his hands. "Okay, but if I fuck-up, it'll be on you too."

Vincent scowled. "I know the situation with Marco is tricky, and if I could avoid this trip I would. The only thing you have to remember is that you are the offspring of Joseph Tavares from Buffalo."

"For a race that advocates transparency, there sure are a lot of secrets circulating."

"We're going to Chicago so you can meet your grandmother," he said, looking affronted. "I thought you'd be more excited about it."

Was I excited? Did I want to add to my collection of misfit relatives?

"I'm sorry, Vincent. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful. I guess I'm worried I'll be disappointed."

He offered a smile that made me feel silly for having such worries. "I doubt anyone could be disappointed with a nun as a grandmother."

~ ~ ~

So there I was, waiting anxiously for my half-brother to arrive at the Chicago airport, only I had to put the half-brother part out of my mind. Ruben was just a polite gollum who didn't mind battling airport traffic to pick up a buddy and his girlfriend.

Not long into our wait, a recently-detailed black BMW 5 series pulled up to the curb in front of us, and Vincent nudged me into action while holding open the back door. I climbed in, letting Vincent handle our bag, and the guy behind the wheel turned to flash me a toothy hello.

"Hi Reese. I'm Ruben Bourdain. Marco's son. It's nice to meet you."

Ruben didn't look like any brother I expected to have. This guy had eastern European written all over him, with dark hair, a surfer's skin, and striking hazel eyes, our father's eyes.

"It's nice to meet you, Ruben. Thanks for giving us a ride to our hotel."

Ruben's brows lifted. "I thought I was taking you to the convent. I know Petula really well. Better than Vincent, that's for sure."

Vincent shook his head as he slid into the front seat. "I got your text not two minutes ago, Ruben. I haven't had a chance to mention it to Reese."

"Sorry, man. The airport has dead zones. Anyway, I told Vincent I would introduce you to Petula. She and I go way back."

Ruben spoke as he navigated through traffic like a New York cabbie, with his sunglasses perched on his forehead and his shirtsleeves rolled up. The kind of guy you want in your corner not theirs.

"Good. A liaison," I said. "I like to have a native with me when I travel to faraway places."

"Have you been to Chicago before?" he asked.

"Three times. My mom's best friend lives here."

"Your mom... as in your adopted mom?"

He glanced into the rearview mirror to read my face, and I flashed him an easy smile. "Yes. I grew up in DC with two parents and a brother."

"Do they know about your special nature?" Ruben's gaze flicked to Vincent, who held his usual authoritarian pose, and he quickly amended his question. "You're not obligated to answer me. Just tell me to go to hell."

I chuckled at his candid wit. "My parents don't know I'm a gollum. As long as I can keep demons out of their backyard, it's probably best they stay blissfully ignorant for now."

"It's tough keeping secrets, isn't it?" Ruben tried to catch my eye through the mirror again, but I pretended not to notice.

"I'm a supporter of honesty, but I'm beginning to see the usefulness of keeping certain secrets. My best friend knows I'm a gollum, but that's only because we live in the same city and it's nearly impossible to live a normal life around the Valentinos."

"Actually, gollums like to keep a low profile, except for Mr. Bigshot over here." Ruben jutted his chin at Vincent and an equal exchange was made back. "My dad told me you've got your hands full with demon scouts. I don't doubt you're on every hybrid hunter's radar within a ten mile radius of Chicago."

"Really?" I stretched forward until my seatbelt caught me, and Vincent's face appeared around the side of his chair, soothing me with those smoky grays.

"We've got it handled, baby. Caleb is tight with the police. Just keep in mind, our movements are being monitored."

"Okay, chief. I won't do anything lewd or lascivious." I saluted him and reclined into my seat, forced to be content with the situation being handled for me. Ruben appeared to enjoy our banter, smirking as he elbowed Vincent.

"You're chief, huh? What are you chief of, exactly?"

Vincent responded with a silent 'You know what,' before Ruben pressed on.

"So, how are things at the Valentino domus post Deidra? I heard that was a shit show."

"Who's your informant? Colin?" Vincent said.

"No. Adam. Colin told him, then I got the subtext version. Deidra loves to make a scene, eh Vincent?  She'll take on two in the arena and barely break a sweat."

"That's because her opponents aren't trying."

"But that's her angle. She knows they're holding back, and they don't care because it gets their rocks off. Sorry Reese, but true story." Ruben's attention flicked to the rearview mirror, but his eyes were now hidden behind shades.

"Don't clean up your language on my account. I hate the bitch."

Ruben broke into a fit of laughter, gripping the wheel to keep the car on the road, but I enjoyed watching Vincent's face split into a grin. He liked ballsy Reese.

"Deidra is a selfish female with all the warmth of a jellyfish," Vincent said. "Irrespective of what she can offer in the bedroom, a pairing based purely on the physical will never lead to offspring."

"No need to preach to me, man," Ruben said. "Bitches be crazy."