Prince of Power (House of Terriot Book 2)

by Nancy Gideon

  Colin pulled out his bags and began to pack. Once his old room was stripped, he made a call.

  “This is Colin Terriot. I need to schedule a charter for two.” Phone still in hand, he answered a knock at his door. Rico stood in the hall. “I just made our reservations for this morning. She’ll have to make her own. You’d better get some sleep—”

  Rico’s fist put his lights out.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Colin slept like the dead the entire flight, Rico’s elbow to the ribs waking him as they taxied into their gate at Louis Armstrong. Hungover, his jaw aching, the previous night a patchwork of things half-remembered and those best forgotten, he let the uniqueness of the city embrace him with a welcoming squeeze. The sticky sweet scent of fresh Pralines. Jazz wailing from the gift shops as they made their way into the main terminal. The lazy, almost indecipherable drawls of the baggage handlers. The sudden sense of coming home he hadn’t felt in Nevada.

  What he didn’t expect was Silas MacCreedy.

  “You look like shit. Must have been some party.”

  The one thing he liked about MacCreedy was his gift of brevity, not needing to fill the air with conversation just to hear himself talk. They were alike in that. The last thing Colin felt like discussing was what he’d left behind as Silas fell in on his right, Rico trudging along sullenly on his left.

  “I’ve got my car. Savoie wants to talk at the house.”

  “Can I hitch?” Rico asked. “I need to pick up my stuff.”

  Colin didn’t ask why or where he was going. None of his business. Better he not know in case sudden insanity overcame him again.

  They tossed their carry-ons into the backseat, Rico wedging in next to them while Colin adjusted the front to give himself more leg room, too tired to even enjoy his brother’s grumbling at being compressed behind him.

  “How’s Kendra? Your brother taking care of her?”

  Feeling trapped because of what he thought he remembered from the hazy night before, Colin didn’t know how to respond. Surprisingly, Rico answered. “She’s good. They make each other happy.”

  Silas accepted that at face value.

  Colin closed his eyes to ease their gritty ache. He’d just begun to doze in the heavy heat coming through the vents when Silas spoke up again.

  “Does he always make that much noise?”

  “Only when he’s unconscious.”

  Colin snorted awake and rubbed a hand across his mouth to catch any embarrassing leakage. As he straightened, he was surprised to see the tall security walls surrounding Savoie’s property leading to heavy iron gates that had opened to invite him and his brothers inside. Enemies didn’t do that for one another, so what did that make Savoie? Colin had only bumped elbows with him a few times, but Cale trusted him implicitly. He’d follow his king’s lead, at least until he had evidence to the contrary.

  As they climbed the broad front steps, they were met by Savoie’s man, St. Clair, a formidable wall of human male who was, inexplicably, also MacCreedy’s brother-in-law. The two exchanged tolerant nods. The idea of the fiery Brigit MacCreedy wed to such a man should have astonished him, but stranger matches had and could occur. Savoie, a former mobster, and his cop mate. The noble Turow and a traitor.

  A Terriot and a Guedry . . .

  As they moved into the wide hall where a free-standing staircase swept majestically to the second floor, Colin straightened, senses sharpening, his pulse taking a sudden leap. Beside him, Rico reacted similarly. As they turned into the study, not only was Savoie there waiting, Mia Guedry was, too.

  Colin stared, momentarily mesmerized as she stood and crossed the room to where they stood. Her heavy black hair was pulled back from a face nearly bare of makeup, her dangerous curves hidden within the bulk of a cable-knit sweater, loose cargo pants and waffle-soled boots. The competent affect couldn’t overcome the way her scent scattered his brain cells.

  She never glanced at him, instead, slipping an arm about Rico, stretching up for his brother’s quick kiss, where she whispered, “Wait for me.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Rico turned away and strode toward the stairs. Mia returned to her spot on the couch as if Colin was invisible.

  “I asked Ms. Guedry to join us,” Savoie was saying. “She can shed some light on what’s happened in Casper Lee’s organization since Cale disposed of him.”

  Savoie settled back behind his big desk. The leader of the New Orleans clan had a disquieting stillness about him, like a cat patiently crouched outside a mouse hole willing to wait as long as it took for the inevitable to occur. Tall, rangy, not particularly handsome, with his angular features, unruly black hair and chilly green eyes that never seemed to blink lest he miss some significant movement at the aforementioned mouse house, there was an unmistakable aura of power and control about him. A dangerous foe who’d whipped a disorganized band of cast-off Shifters into a significant force. A valuable ally who’d helped save their king’s life.

  As MacCreedy took the single comfy chair, Colin ignored the inviting cushions beside Mia to sit on a rigid chair in front of Savoie’s desk. He could pretend she wasn’t in the room, but every inch of his body was keenly aware of her.

  “How’s your king?” Savoie began to cut the tension.

  “He’s well. Thanks for asking.” Colin nodded gratefully to the rather severe-looking woman who provided coffee before slipping silently away. “And your missus?”

  “Also good. Thanks for asking.”

  “Mine’s dangerous, pregnant and wants me home,” Silas announced. “Can we get to business now?”

  Savoie showed a rather ferocious amount of teeth as he grinned. “Ms. Geudry, care to enlighten us?”

  She gave a quick, concise accounting of her time with Lee, planted there by Rueben Guedry, their clan’s leader, to assess the danger of his influence, freely speaking of how she was used by Lee in the guise of party girl to get information on the Terriots and their sudden unusual interest in New Orleans, but saying nothing of any personal agenda as she now brokered peace between their clans. Because he didn’t dare make eye contact as she spoke, Colin studied the lug pattern of her boot sole as one leg crossed over the other, becoming hypnotized by its gentle bobbing. His body relaxed, soothed by the husky rhythm of her voice, until that tone suddenly sharpened.

  “Am I boring you, Mr. Terriot?”

  Colin’s gaze lifted slowly to hers. He caught her slight recoil from the steadiness of his stare. “You have my attention, Ms. Guedry. You always make sure of that. Let me ask you something? Warren Brady. What’s his tie to Lee?”

  “Nothing’s done in this city without his knowledge or consent. He has its crime families in a stranglehold, using the police department as his personal enforcers.” Her gaze jumped to Silas. “You probably know more about that than I do.”

  “Not as much as I need to know,” Silas admitted. “Like who pulls his strings.”

  “I never got that close to him.” Mia sighed. “He’s like that big spider that sits patiently in the dark waiting for someone to get caught in his web. Once they get so tangled up they can’t move, he moves in and sucks them dry.”

  “Is he connected to my brother, James?”

  Mia glanced Colin’s way briefly. “I don’t know. Maybe through Casper.”

  She could be telling the truth. Or it could be another of her casually tendered lies. He needed to know more.

  “You all keep talking about these boogeymen in the north. Who are they? What do they want? Have you actually met them?”

  “I have.” Silas spoke up, voice cold and heavy. “I know what they are, what they can do and who they’ve hurt. And I’d kill everyone last one if I had the chance.”

  Colin raised a single brow, impressed and perhaps just a bit unsettled by the unflappable Shifter’s merciless tone.

  “They’re monsters,” Max added, “without souls. They were once a part of our lineage until they weeded out our imperfections. Emotions. Love, fear, family,
joy. They’re creatures of logic, of self-interest. And they are very afraid of us because they can’t control what they don’t understand.”

  “And they’re all about control,” MacCreedy added. “Domination, subjugation on every level from choice to procreation.”

  Colin snorted. “Doesn’t sound like a club I’d join.”

  “They’re not asking you to join.” Mia’s drawl drew his attention. “They don’t want you and your clan to be members. They discovered from your king that they can’t control you. They see you as too dangerous, too unpredictable to be of any use to their plans. That much I did learn from Lee.”

  “So they’ll leave us alone.”

  A soft laugh. “No. They’ll destroy you all so you don’t pollute the gene pool. That’s why they took Cale’s blood. So they can find a way to wipe you and yours out like a bad smell.”

  It took all his self-control not to react to the shock of her words. “And I’m sure you’d be more than happy to just sit back and let that happen.”

  “Rueben wouldn’t have sent me if we were. So tell me, prince in the House of Terriot,” she cooed. “Who needs who’s help?”

  He didn’t dignify her remark with a response, instead looking to Savoie for answers. “What safeguards do you have in place in the Quarter? I’m assuming if it comes to a last stand, they’d attack us there. More assessable on more fronts.”

  “Since your clan’s hidey-hole is impossible to breach in a direct attack.”

  Colin glanced back at Mia. So she’d looked and come up empty. He provided a small, twitching smile to acknowledge that.

  “We’ve got a home guard of sorts led by Philo Tibideaux on the docks,” Max offered. “Cale wears their mark on his arm.” That flaming wolf’s head tattoo they’d all noticed. “I don’t know how useful they’d be. Apparently, their ranks have been compromised. Tibideaux is searching for the mole with no luck, as yet. A good number of our people are housed in the Towers, my reclamation project on the waterfront. We’ve beefed up security there. But like you said, we’re vulnerable on too many fronts.”

  “How ’bout attacking them when they don’t expect it?”

  Silas nodded to Savoie. “We’ve been to their stronghold. It’s a high-tech fortress. We couldn’t get a significant number inside without drawing their attention.”

  “That’s where our friends the Guedrys could come in handy. They’re experts at infiltration.” Colin slid an impassive stare toward the Guedry in the room. “Why don’t we have spies inside checking on their timetable?”

  Silas raised a brow, looking from a flinty-eyed Mia to Max. “I don’t know. Why don’t we?”

  “It’s something we’re looking at,” was all Max offered.

  “We need to look harder. Knowing our enemies is the greatest advantage we can have.” A fact Colin knew intimately.

  “I’ll check with Philo,” Silas volunteered. “See what he’s found out. Mia, touch base with Rueben. Ask if he’d be willing to help us get insiders up North, if he doesn’t have them already.”

  She nodded then scowled at Colin. “And what’s he going to be doing?”

  “We’re just dumb brutes, here to provide muscle.”

  Max chuckled. “And how many have you buried who mistakenly believed that? Dozens?”

  “Hundreds,” Colin amended without a blink.

  Seeing the flash of animosity flare between Terriot and Guedry, Max diplomatically called an end to the meeting. Silas went to seek out his sister, Mia lingered in the hall waiting for Rico, and Colin complied with a request from Max to walk with him.

  Grateful to leave another reunion between Mia and his brother behind, Colin followed the complicated Savoie out into the damp chill. A stone path wound down to a huge outbuilding, their obvious destination.

  “How’s Cale doing, really?”

  Appreciating his concern, Colin replied honestly. “He’s tough. It’d take more than that witch’s poison to destroy him.”

  “But you don’t underestimate the enemy.”

  “No,” he answered grimly. “I don’t. We’re vulnerable to James’s plans. He’ll cripple us if he isn’t stopped.”

  “Is that why you’re here? To stop him?”

  “Yes. Is it the only reason? No. Cale’s right about us needing each other’s strengths. If we can’t play well together, we’ll all die separately.”

  “And can you and Ms. Guedry play well together?”

  “We’re done playing. It’s the work we need to focus on.”

  Max stayed silent on that. “Settled in the Quarter yet?”

  “I’m renting a little place.” Then he spoke aloud what had been on his mind. “Thinking of buying it.” When Savoie accepted that without comment, he added, “Would that cause trouble?”

  “A Terriot putting down roots in the middle of our city? With some. There’s a lot of frightened folks who have no reason to trust outsiders.” He laughed softly. “I know a thing or two about that.”

  This was news to Colin. “But you’re their leader.”

  “It was never put to a vote. Some have no more reason to trust me than they do you. Especially after that business in Chicago. Hard to trust a fella who doesn’t know his own mind, or remember what’s in it.”

  He’d heard from Cale that Max had been taken by their enemies and his memories strip-mined before his friends were able to rescue him. Having seen no indication that the event had weakened the powerful, bayou-born Savoie, Colin smiled cautiously. “But you’re in your right one now, right?”

  “So I’m told. That bother you?”

  “Cale trusts you. That enough for me. So far.”

  A chuckle. “You’d be a welcome addition to our city. Anyone gives you any trouble, come to me.”

  “I’m used to taking care of my own trouble, but thanks.”

  Savoie threw back one of the doors to his massive garage. “I still have your bike here if you want to ride it back to the city. Easier to park on those narrow streets.”

  Colin stepped inside and gave a low whistle at the sight of the estate’s extensive car collection, everything from limos and pricy foreign jobs to powerful muscle machines.

  “You a car guy?” Savoie asked, seeing his interest.

  “I enjoy horsepower and a wide backseat on occasion.”

  “The missus, isn’t that what you called her?” Max mused with a smile, “is crazy about anything fast and dangerous. Me, I don’t mind taking the passenger seat and closing my eyes.” He stopped, realizing his companion wasn’t listening. Colin had come to a stop by one of the cars and just stood, staring.

  “’62 Ford Thunderbird hardtop,” Max recited, having memorized the huge inventory.

  Colin’s fingertips grazed along the shiny black exterior, his eyes going wide and dewy, as if confronting a long-ago lover. “What a beauty,” he murmured. “My step-father had one like this.”

  “Does he still drive it?”

  “Not any more. He’s gone now, and so is the car.” He didn’t elaborate. Sighing heavily, he stepped away from the vehicle and the memory. “It was a long time ago.”

  Observing more than Colin would have liked, Max could relate. “It’s yours,” he said impulsively.

  Taken off guard, startled by the offer, Colin sputtered, “It’s a classic. I don’t have any idea what it’s worth.”

  Max shrugged. “It’ll give Giles one less thing to fuss over. I’ll have him dig up the title. Keys are in it. You can drive it back.”

  Colin gaped. “You’re giving it to me? Why would you do that?”

  “It means something to you. That means something to me.”

  “I can afford it.” There was that Terriot pride bristling up as expected.

  “And I can afford to give it away. Are you going to insult me by arguing over who has the most disposable income?”

  Colin looked from Max’s calm smile to the red leather interior, low, tucked-under grill, and round taillights. With his sleeve, he carefully rubbed of
f the prints he’d left on the paint job.

  “That’s damned decent of you.” His voice was faint.

  “I’m a damned nice guy. Start her up.”

  Colin hesitated, wary of crossing from memory to reality. Gingerly, he gripped the door handle, took a breath and opened it. The scent of well-conditioned leather enveloped him, coaxing him to slip inside. He adjusted the bucket seat and mirrors to accommodate his height and long legs then caressed the red steering wheel. Remembered sights and sounds of his step-dad and brothers arguing over what to put in the tape deck coaxed a nostalgic smile. He turned the key to bring the big, rumbling motor to life then grinned as Steve Miller’s “Swingtime” started playing in the deck. He looked up at Savoie, smile still tugging at his lips. “Thanks.”

  “Take care of her.”

  “I will.”

  As he coasted down the drive toward the house, fiddling with the sound, he saw Rico and Mia coming down the stairs. His brother had their bags. Dropping them, Rico rushed over, clasping the window frame, leaning in over his shoulder to give the interior a once over.

  “This looks just like the one your dad had. Sweet!”

  “Could you take my bike back into the city for me? I’d appreciate it.” Colin purposefully didn’t look Mia’s way to rekindle that image of her hugging his brother as they zoomed away from the last time they’d been together.

  “Sure. No problem.”

  As Rico tossed their bags into the back seat, they both were surprised when the passenger door opened and Mia slid inside, announcing, “I’m going to ride back with Colin, if he doesn’t mind. We still have things to discuss.”

  Mind? His system revved like that eager engine, but he looked up at Rico in deference. “If it’s okay with you.”

  Obviously not, but Rico stepped back, waving them ahead.

  “Buckle up,” Colin insisted gruffly. “I don’t want you making a mess of my dashboard if I have to stop fast.”

  “Your concern is heartwarming.” She clicked in. “At least it would be an attractive mess.”