Logan by Melissa Schroeder

a deep breath. It was then that Morin noticed them. For a second he studied them, then his face cleared and he smiled. Without hesitation, he walked over to them.  
    “Logan Lennon, so nice to see you again. I did not know you were coming to Paris.”  
    “Spur of the moment kind of thing. Came with my brother and his wife. Have you met my brother?”  
    “No, I have not.” He looked at Angus. “This is not Callum.”  
    He laughed. “No. Callum is my cousin. This is my brother Angus. Angus, this is Pierre Morin. He’s known to be a collector of sorts.”  
    “Of sorts,” Pierre chuckled. “It is nice to meet you. And your wife?”  
    “She’s back at the apartment sleeping. Jet lag.”  
    “Oh, that is too bad. Hopefully I will get to meet her while she is here.”  
    “I’m sure you will,” Logan said smoothly. Knowing Morin’s reputation, he probably thought he could seduce Maggie. Bastard. “So, what is the party for tonight?”  
    Morin’s cold blue eyes sparkled with excitement. “I just acquired the most wonderful jewel.”  
    As he spoke, Logan studied the man and the people surrounding him. After hundreds of years, all of them were good at judging people. Or they had thought they were. But, for Logan, he always liked to look beneath the surface. Everyone had something they liked to hide, something they didn’t want anyone to know about. Hell, most people refused to admit their failings to themselves.  
    Everyone gathered around Morin had ulterior motives. Most of them were easy to guess. Money and power were aphrodisiacs for some people. But beneath that, there was something else, something that left his stomach churning.  
    Something was wrong. Before he could pinpoint just what it was, his brother drew his attention with a comment, and Logan rejoined the conversation. He pushed aside his concerns and played the role he’d been sent to portray.  
    *  *  *  *  
    “I would say that went well,” Angus said, as they walked up the stairs to Meg’s apartment.  
    Logan grunted, still unsure of his feelings at the moment. He didn’t know what it was, but something was nudging at his senses. A warning, perhaps, but something strong enough to make him feel ill.  
    It could have been the travel, or maybe he had eaten something that didn’t agree with him. Of course, the further they’d gotten from Morin’s party, he had felt better and better.  
    “I’m glad you have so much to add to the conversation.”  
    “Sorry, I’ve my mind on other things.”  
    Angus chuckled, as he dug the apartment keys out of his pocket. “Think that thing isna a thing but a who.”  
    Logan wanted to argue with him, but if the two hundred plus years had taught him one thing, it was that he would have a better chance at beating a brick wall in an argument. Angus was tenacious.  
    Angus unlocked the door and Logan followed him into the foyer.  There was soft music playing and…giggling?  
    Logan glanced at Angus, who shrugged. “You never know with women—especially witches.”  
    They made their way to the dining room, which was…a mess. There were at least four empty wine bottles. Plates of food scattered the table where they had apparently decided to have a feast of some sort.  
    But the women weren’t there.  Instead, they were in the living area again, and working their way through the fifth bottle. Lord, how could two such little women drink that much wine?  
    Maggie was listening intently to what Meg was saying, even though it made absolutely no sense.  
    “Well, this is a fine mess,” Angus muttered, although there was a lot of humor in his voice.  
    Logan nodded but said nothing. He had never really seen Meg like this. Hell, he hadn’t seen Maggie drunk either. He paid no attention to his sister-in-law. As always, Meg drew his attention. Her hair was a mess of curls, her face was flushed, and there was a sloppy smile on her face. He couldn’t stop the smile that