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It dawned on him he’d been knocked out with a sleeping potion. When he inquired with Jacques, his butler, he told him he was worried when the owner of Lucille’s and her servants hauled Armand home unconscious. The butler thought Armand was simply drunk and moved him to his bed to sleep it off. There was only one person who’d employ such a devious tactic to get Armand off his back. They were both chasing the same thing.
Hervé.
His cousin had sabotaged his date with Belle. Fury wasn’t even close to describing what he was feeling right now. Armand wanted to choke Hervé and tear him limb from limb. Maybe feed whatever was left of him to wild dogs, too.
Armand stormed from his palace and through the barrier, into the human world. He had an idea where Hervé might be. Like Uncle Isaac, Hervé was fond of the human world and actually owned some residences. One was on the outskirts of Chicago.
He popped out of thin air in Hervé’s front yard, trying to catch his scent. Hervé’s place was plagued with silence. Armand strode to the front doors and sieved himself through them. Hervé was home, all right. Judging from his scent, Armand guessed his cousin was in his bedroom.
Armand paused when he caught Belle’s scent as well. His fury turned to rage. Clenching his fists, he leapt and materialised on the second floor. With a wave of his hand, he broke into Hervé’s room. What he saw in there made his blood boil. Belle was in Hervé’s bed and seemed naked underneath the coverlet, while his cousin leant next to her, stroking her hair, watching her sleeping.
Hervé turned his head in Armand’s direction. He narrowed his eyes. A heartbeat later, Hervé leapt from the bed and flew towards Armand, driving him out of the bedroom.
The doors snapped shut behind them. Armand’s back hit the wall of the corridor with Hervé’s hand planted on his neck.
His cousin hissed. “Do you want to wake her up, moron?”
Armand gritted his teeth. He threw Hervé with such force that his cousin flew across the hall and shattered the antique vase on the stand behind him. Armand charged to him with vehemence. Hervé recovered quickly and met his assault. His cousin deflected Armand’s blow, but Armand was able to grab Hervé’s collar at the very last second. They were both hurled out of the windows and into the garden. Glass and splinters flew everywhere.
Armand repelled Hervé’s clutch and landed on his feet. “I’m going to kick your ass, you son of a bitch. You know she’s mine.” He summoned his powers to levitate an angel statue and catapulted it at Hervé.
A tornado of seven-hundred-pound carved marble zoomed to Hervé. He dodged it easily. The statue hit the gazebo with a loud boom and broke into a dozen pieces.
“Careful who you call bitch. It happens to be the queen, remember?” Hervé sneered. He vanished and reappeared on the peak of the mansion’s roof.
The ground beneath Armand’s feet shook. He bounded upwards a moment before trees, bushes, fences and everything within twenty feet uprooted and stormed to where he was standing. He’d have been skewered had he reacted a tad late.
Hervé cursed and propelled towards him. Armand welcomed him halfway. They met in mid-air, with hands clamped on each other’s necks, a stalemate. Their powers were equal.
“Back off. Belle’s mine.” Armand tightened his grip.
Hervé gasped. He choked Armand harder in return. “Never.”
Armand gurgled and let go his chokehold. “Don’t you think you’re being selfish? I saw her first.”
Hervé coughed. “Selfish? You’re the one who’s being selfish, cousin. You didn’t let me compete for her fairly. I let you win Minette before. Now it’s my turn.”
“You fuck a new girl every week. She’s not one of your easy-to-get games. Go find somebody else.”
“I fell in love with her!” Hervé glimpsed at the balcony. “Shit.”
Armand saw Belle had been watching their fight in disbelief. She was clad only in a bed sheet. Her face paled. “Oh, fuck.” Armand descended to the ground. Belle had caught them red-handed.
Hervé followed suit. “You ruin everything. Happy now?”
Armand brushed past his cousin and walked to the mansion. Hervé’s staff had pooled by the terrace. It seemed they’d been watching their fight the whole time.
“Armand!”
He ignored Hervé’s call. Armand wanted to straighten everything with Belle. Just as he entered the drawing room, he saw her running towards the front door. Her dress was half-zipped and she was only wearing one shoe. The other was in her hand.
“Back off!” she shrieked when Armand was about to come to her.
“Belle…”
Belle was totally freaked out. “Stay where you are. Don’t come any closer.”
Hervé materialised next to Armand. “Belle…”
