With more enemies lining up to kill him than he can count, a playboy billionaire must hire the only woman capable of keeping him alive, even if she hates his guts.
Gabriel Gerard's life is full of gorgeous women, expensive cars, and infinite wealth...
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Patricia's first blow made his duel with Asher seem like child's play. Gabriel heard Bri's gasp behind him as he merely tried to keep his weapon in his hands. The smile from Patricia's flawless face gone, her cold eyes calculated meticulous strikes that he defended haphazardly.
"Gabe." Bri reached for the pistol hidden in her boot.
"No, don't," he said worried that Patricia might somehow reflect the bullet back at Bri. He didn't think that his mother would ever hurt her leader's daughter, but he couldn't be sure. He had to keep Patricia's energy focused on him.
Their swords clanked over and over echoing little in the thickly carpeted soundproof hallway. Gabriel knew that his mother wasn't trying to kill him but was afraid that she easily could. Driving him back further into Bri and closer to the burning magical wall, Patricia leveraged his sword against hers. One flick of her wrist and Gabriel knew that he would be unarmed.
"Checkmate," his mother said in the same casual tone that she had used when defeating him throughout his childhood. "Now will you two stop this nonsense and come with me so I can get back to my evening."
"What is going on here?" Michael Alexander's voice carried from a stairwell at the other end of the hallway as the lights flickered on. He was surrounded by Secret Service but waved them back as he came up behind Patricia. Recognition started to dawn on his face. "Brianna."
"Father," Bri said standing tall rather than hiding behind Gabriel.
"What is going on here?" the president asked again, surveying his vice president about to disarm her son. Michael glanced at his men behind him. He was a tall man with thick brown hair combed back and an elegant black suit that made him look like the harmless politician the world thought him to be.
But Gabriel knew better. He had watched as this man effortlessly maimed and murdered his father. There was no way that he was letting the president anywhere near his daughter.
"We were just leaving," Gabriel said taking his mother off guard and thrusting her back with his sword.
"Gabriel," she reprimanded him looking embarrassed that he was behaving badly in front of her boss. She blocked his attack and pushed him back. "I'm having a little trouble getting the children to come with me."
"Enough! Adsultamus!" Michael said, raising his hand, sending Gabriel's sword flying across the room. It hit the wall and fell to the floor. "I don't have time for this. Guards, take these two to my suite. Vice President Gerard and I have a gala to attend."
"No! Deflagrato!" Bri yelled, and blue flames shot from her fingers.
"I see that you have been practicing your gift, honey." Her father sounded almost proud. "But don't raise your hand to me. Soporiferamus." A purple haze poured from his outstretched fingertips.
Bri stumbled against Gabriel, confusion in her sapphire eyes. He held an arm out to her as her eyes rolled back and she slumped against him. He caught her before she could fall, but her head lolled back with her eyes closed.
"Bri!" He took her face in his hand, but her eyelids didn't even flutter. Holding her against his chest, he looked up at Michael. "What have you done to her?"
"Relax, Mr. Gerard, she is merely asleep." The president took a step towards him. The Secret Service weren't far behind. "Now if you'll hand my daughter over to me."
"Never." Gabriel could feel the heat from the wall behind him as he whispered the armor spell, "Armo."
"You are no match for me, son," Michael said quietly as if trying to coax a cat out of a tree.
"Don't ever call me son." Gabriel could feel the rage bubbling up inside him. "You murdered the only man who could call me that."
"Your father made his own choice, Gabriel." The president stopped right in front of him. His eyes black. His voice calm. "And now you've made yours."
"Yes, I have." Gabriel held out his hand towards his sword. "Cito."
The weapon flew into it. Ignoring the agents and his mother behind Michael or Bri in his other arm, Gabriel swung for the president's throat. He missed. By less than an inch.
"You've chosen unwisely," Michael said holding up a hand to stop the agents and Patricia from swarming. He laid a hand on Gabriel's shoulder and whispered, "Venenamus."
A nauseating wave of sickness flooded into Gabriel's body. His shoulder ached under the president's touch and slowly spread down his arm and through his chest. His sword slipped from his grasp. His head began to pound, and his legs felt weak. He had felt this feeling before when fighting his brother, only it wasn't nearly as strong then. He was poisoned.
"Yes, you are poisoned," Michael said as if reading his thoughts. "And the antidote is in my suite upstairs. So, give up my daughter and I will see to it that you live."
"No fucking way." Gabriel stumbled back into the magical wall. He could smell his suit and flesh burning. If he could only force his way through it, maybe Bri could wake up and get away.
"Gabriel!" His mother looked torn in her loyalties.
"I'm sorry, Patty, but even you can't save him now." The president raised his hand again. "I'll not have him getting Bri killed."
"Stop!" Everyone turned to see Claire standing with her arms outstretched. Gabriel slumped out of the searing magic and tried to focus on Bri's cousin. She was dressed all in white with ribbons wrapped around her arms and through her hair. Her mask was in the shape of an owl and pearls glowed on her fingers, ears, and her throat. "Let them go."
"Claire." Michael sounded surprised to see his niece. "Stay out of this and I will let you go back home to your traitorous parents."
"My parents truly love this country and its people," Claire said, a small shake in her voice the only giveaway of her fear. "It is you who are the traitor."
The Secret Service pounced at this declaration. They ran towards the small redhead with guns drawn. She held up a hand and whispered. A white aura formed around her. The guards couldn't reach her through it. One aimed his weapon at her head.
"No," the president commanded. "I want her alive."
Gabriel watched helplessly as Michael and his mother advanced on Claire. He clutched Bri to him as he tried to stay upright. The poison was in every inch of his being. It hurt to breathe, let alone focus on what was going on. His legs finally buckled, and he knelt on the floor cradling Bri in his arms, her black gown blanketing them.
"Dissolvamus." The president barely flicked his wrist, and the spell encasing his adversary shattered. "Now, Claire, you'll have to come with me."
"I don't think so," Claire said smiling. She raised her hands above her and called out in a clear voice, "Come Bean-Nighe!"
