Frenchman Street_A Novel of The Sentinels of New Orleans

by Suzanne Johnson

  Alex’s shifters and Faulk’s Hunters would have a heavy presence at Spanish Plaza tonight as Mayor DeFazo passed the keys of the city to the local businessman who was portraying Rex. If the real Rex showed up, which everyone expected, that meant Florian would be planning his big reveal when the Rex float stopped in front of the mayor’s box on the parade stands and the two toasted each other. That moment had maximum visibility. If I were a crazed wannabe despot, that would be my pick.

  “So the question is, what do we do to prepare for Florian tomorrow?”

  I stood up. “Before we get to that, consider this. Is the man who’s been named Rex for this year’s parade in danger? Is the whole Krewe of Rex in danger?”

  “Whatever could we do about it?” Lennox asked, looking at Sato. “We can’t replace the whole bloody parade.”

  I looked at Faulk and Romany, who sat at the end of the table with Lia between them. “Do you know how many riders are on the floats?” Romany asked.

  “As your man of intelligence, I myself can answer this,” said Mr. Intelligence, flipping through his notes. “There are four-hundred and fifty riders. However, might I suggest that if the Hunters are to replace only some members it is the Bathurst, the capitain who leads the procession on a horse of white; eighteen lieutenants on horseback who maintain order; and Rex himself, who has his own parading boat.”

  “Float,” Rand said. He’d become quite adept at interpreting Jean. “Faulk, could you replace those twenty?”

  “Yes, I have a hundred Hunters available for tomorrow; I’m leaving fifty in Faerie to protect the Autumn Court, where most of our non-fighting supporters are hiding.”

  They had to find a place and time to do the exchange. “Jean, do you have a list of Rex and the captain and lieutenants and their phone numbers?” I asked. “If so, maybe we should try to assemble them today, and make the exchange.”

  “My people can do it,” Alex said. “We can claim to be a special FBI task force. Actually, I can make the Hunters a special FBI task force. We can tell them there’s a security risk and that we need to put stand-ins in place for their own safety.” He paused. “They won’t like it.”

  “Then a few of my Royal Guards can be there to persuade them,” Rand said. “We can replace their memories afterward, if all goes well, so they’ll think they were there.”

  That was my elf, with the subtlety and charm of a bull elephant.

  I hated to ask. “Alex, will shifters agree to ride horses? And will horses let shifters ride them?”

  His pause before responding told me it could be a problem. What horse in its right mind would want a wolf riding on its back, even in human form?

  “I’m sure I can find twenty who have riding experience,” he said. “If not, I’ll let Faulk know.”

  Rand and I exchanged looks, and he nodded. We stood up at the same time. “Dru and I have come up with a plan to change up the security of the parade. We think, of the lot of us, she and I are most hated by Florian. The elves are the species most able to rival the fae in power…”

  “Only because our wizards’ physical magic doesn’t work in the Beyond, and theirs does,” I added quickly to stop Elder Sato’s eyebrows from disappearing over the top of his head.

  “So here’s what we propose…”

  Rand laid out the plan with precision and logic. Elves were good at that, plus he was more important to this gathering. I was only included because of our bond, just as Rene and Jean were only included because they’d inserted themselves into the process.

  As everyone dispersed, Alex pulled me aside. “I hear you finally won.”

  He was lucky Charlie wasn’t within easy reach. “Nobody won, Alex, and if you think that’s true, we’re even more different than I thought.” I ticked off the losses. “Adrian set himself up to be killed. Zrakovi, who not so long ago was one of the most-respected wizards of his generation, is dead. And I had to kill a man I would have died for if he’d shown me anything but rejection, ridicule, and treachery. Who do you see as the winner, there, exactly?”

  He looked at me steadily for a few seconds. “I’m glad you’re alive, DJ. You’re probably going to get your job back, so we’ll be working together again. And you and Randolph get to raise Eugenie’s baby like a happy little family.”

  Who was this man, and how had I misjudged him so badly? Or had he changed…or had I? “You might be a good investigator, Alex, but you don’t know shit about people.”

  I turned to walk away and ran into Rene, who’d been listening. He put a hand on my arm. “What is goin’ on between you and the elf?”

  “Nothing like what Alex is thinking,” I said. Rene’s beautiful eyes could see right into my soul, and we had never lied to each other. “Rand and I get along most of the time now, mostly because we’re at a power stalemate. I want Eugenie’s baby to know who his mother was, and I’m the only way that’s going to happen, so, yes, I’m going to be part of that baby’s life. Rand and I will not be living together after this is over. Ever. We will not have sex. Ever. And there will probably be great, long stretches of time when we’re not even speaking to each other.”

  “Good. That’s all I need to know.”

  Rene and I were joined by the elf himself, a little too late to have overheard. “Thank you for offering my son safe quarter, and Princess Kirian as well,” he said. Rene had agreed to tell him since we were finally bringing Kirian into the fray.

  “No problem. My sister’s gotten attached to that baby. Kirian, not so much. She ain’t the baby type.”

  “Frankly, I’m surprised she stayed put this long,” Rand said. “She has a reputation. I really did lock her up for her own good, you know. She’d never have kept herself safe.”

  Rene laughed. “Well, she’s been really busy. I’m about the only male mershifter in Southeast Louisiana she hasn’t done at least once.”

  Rand arched an eyebrow. “All of them?”

  “Yeah, except me and my pop,” Rene said. “And it was DJ’s idea.”

  I shrugged. “She was getting restless, and she likes sex. I do what I can.”

  It was time to retrieve the princess for her part in the Fat Tuesday plans, so Rand, Rene, and I transported to Edmee’s house, and I closed my eyes and breathed in clean air that held a tang of saltwater and marsh. The soft winter sun beat down on my skin, and the wind lifted my hair off my shoulders. When I opened my eyes, the land was so void of landmarks that you could see the curve of the horizon and wonder how anyone ever thought the earth was flat.

  I loved it out here. It was the counterpoint to the city’s frenetic energy, noise, and chaos. It took both parts to make the whole of what made South Louisiana such a special place.

  Home. It took both parts to make it home.

  Rene and Rand had walked ahead of me, and Edmee came out of the house carrying a bundle in her arms. Rand smiled and talked to her before taking Michael. He walked to the edge of the yard where Edmee had her chair and table and sat with him. His mouth wasn’t moving, but I knew he was talking. I was glad I couldn’t hear what he was saying. I was having a rare Zen moment, and I didn’t want any of his outrageous pronouncements to ruin it.

  “Edmee needs me to run down to the boat ramp. Something’s wrong with her starter,” Rene said, walking back to where I was still hanging around the transport. “You wanna come with us or stay here and wait on Kirian? She should be back soon.”

  I smiled. “I’ll stay here. I’m going to sit in that swing”—I pointed to the far end of the property from where Rand sat—“and ponder the meaning of life.”

  Rene laughed. “Yeah, well, good luck with that, babe. See you later.”

  I pulled my leather jacket around me more tightly and settled into the old wooden swing hanging from a rusted stand. I had my own meeting to attend, brought about by my last encounter with Alex. It upset me more than I wanted to admit. Not because Alex was being an ass; I was used to that. But because I’d failed to see our incompatibility for so long.
<
br />   So, there in a swing in rural St. Bernard Parish, Louisiana, somewhere out near Delacroix and an isolated bar called The End of the World, I met myself at the crossroads for some long-overdue self-reflection. It was not a happy meeting, because grownup DJ—the one who had found herself an unwilling linchpin in a brewing interspecies war—said some things the old DJ didn’t want to hear. Hard truths.

  Like the fact that I played a big role in the deaths of several people because I’d tried to follow the rules, follow the man who was supposed to be my leader. Gerry had died. Tish, the closest I’d ever had to a mother, had died. Robert Delachaise. Terri Ford. Adrian Hoffman. Even Jean had died, although he’d come back.

  Jake Warin.

  Eugenie.

  All dead and leading back, in one way or another, to me, at least partly because I’d so misjudged the ability of Willem Zrakovi to run things in a time of crisis.

  Then there was the hard truth that my greatest allies were the rogues and the misfits, and that I was, indeed, Gerry St. Simon’s daughter. Peter Jaco, the kind human man who'd tried to raise me before giving me to the wizards, had no role in who I was or who I had become. That role belonged to the Red Congress wizard who had powerful magic but poor judgment. I planned to keep the power but, unlike Gerry, I would not let naive choices drag me to my death.

  Another hard truth. As badly as I’d misjudged Willem Zrakovi, I’d also misjudged Alexander Warin. Not that Alex was a bad guy; far from it. He was a nice, decent man coping badly with a changing world he couldn’t relate to. I’d been changing with the world while he’d fought change with everything he had. I’d let it go too long because I couldn’t recognize what everyone around me had seen—that the man I was so desperate to love could never be the man I needed—and if I changed to be the woman he needed, I would lose myself.

  Truth sucked.

  A dark-haired man who looked like a shorter, stockier version of Rene appeared in the transport with a barely recognizable Winter Princess of Faerie. Kirian had her red hair pulled back in a ponytail and stuck through the back of a purple and gold LSU cap, and she wore an oversized blue-plaid flannel shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes.

  If I hadn’t been expecting her, I wouldn’t have recognized her.

  I met them on the lawn and went in the house, leaving Rand with Michael. The guy was Rene’s cousin Jacques, who gave me a big grin. “You’re the one,” he said. “Uncle Too’s anxious to have a talk with you.”

  Toussaint Delachaise wanted to have a talk with me?

  “Why?” I asked, which drew laughs all around.

  Finally, Edmee and Jacques went to see Michael and Rand, leaving me with Kirian.

  I got right to the point. “Do you still want to help take down your brother?”

  “I certainly do.” She pulled her hair from the ponytail and shook it out. It was a remarkable shade of dark red, and I was wearing my new Corgi-shaped Gruff locket, so it had to be real. Alex’s pawprint gift no longer seemed appropriate.

  “You realize it might mean that Florian doesn’t make it out alive? I hate to say that, but it’s a possibility.”

  Her pretty face hardened, and I caught a glimpse of a woman tough enough to rule Faerie. “He doesn’t deserve to survive. Did you ever meet my sister, Tamara?”

  I nodded. “Just once, when Jean and I went to visit Christof at the Winter Palace.” She’d creeped the hell out of me, but I didn’t add that. At least she had seemed sane.

  “We were only a couple of years apart in age, and we were always close. We got our mother’s red hair. Florian murdered Tamara, then stuck her head on a pike in the ruins of the palace of our ancestors.”

  Unfortunately, Rene and I had both seen it. “I’m sorry. Ruthless, ambitious people do horrible things.” I had my own parade of ghosts.

  “So don’t think badly of me if I say I don’t think the world is safe as long as Florian is alive,” she said. “There are always people who are susceptible to bribery, and Florian has an instinct for which lure to dangle.”

  I nodded. I’d been lured, and I’d been dangled. Neither felt good.

  I’d just finished sharing our plan when Rand joined us. Kirian and I waved good-bye to Edmee and a crying baby Michael as they went in the house. I swear I heard Michael inside my head, begging me to come back to him. He missed me.

  I didn’t ask Rand if it was real and due to our bond, or if I had imagined it. I’d had enough truths for one day.

  Chapter 40

  Rand and I watched the Iris parade in the scrying bowl. The celebrities were plausible, and there were no visible faeries. Florian was off licking his wounds and planning for tomorrow’s triumphant entry.

  The media had exploded, with fake versus real Mardi Gras factions engaging in vicious verbal battles across a variety of online and print platforms, even TV gossip shows.

  I finally got disgusted and turned off my phone, ready for more truth.

  “Is it possible that Michael could communicate with me mentally?” I asked.

  Rand stared at me, horror and pride warring on his face. “I guess so, because of our bond and because, to him, you’re his mother. You’re the first face he remembers. You’re the first one he loved. What has he told you?”

  “He wasn’t happy that I never held him today,” I said. “He misses me.”

  Rand nodded and when he looked back at me, his eyes blazed. “Don’t you ever hurt him, Dru. You’ve let him love you now, and no matter what does or doesn’t happen between us, don’t you dare abandon him. Promise me.”

  I thought of Eugenie, and how fiercely she had loved Michael from the day she realized she was pregnant. “I promise,” I said. “I won’t live in Elfheim, but Michael will always have an important place in my life.”

  Most likely, I would be across the street, but until I had the key to Eugenie’s house in my hand, I didn’t want to jinx it.

  I tried to go to bed early, but sleep never came. We had scheduled a 4 a.m. meeting to get everyone ready for the Fat Tuesday parade schedule—Zulu at eight a.m., followed by Rex at ten a.m. Rex would likely be at the viewing stands by noon at the latest. And we had a lot to do.

  By 3:30, the dragon barn was full of people. It felt more like an overcrowded high school gymnasium than a former greenhouse. The long table we’d been using for meetings became an impromptu stage. Even Etienne Boulard was there since it was still dark outside. He and Jean gave each other a wide berth. Everyone was focused on the same goal for a change.

  “A quick update on last night,” Faulk shouted, standing on the table. “We lost four shifters and six Hunters at a skirmish at the site where the Rex Parade members were meeting. We managed to get the man named this year’s Rex, have glamoured one of our men to look like him, and have the real Rex hiding out at The Hunt Club. We were not able to get to the lieutenants or the captain, however, so those will likely be Florian’s Hunters.

  “What happened to the humans?” someone yelled.

  “We don’t know,” Faulk said. “But Florian’s people were expecting us to try infiltrating the parade. At least we got Rex.”

  A loud crack of thunder sounded outside, jarring the whole house. The sound of a downpour followed—one of those downpours we occasionally got that sent whole neighborhoods underwater within an hour. St. Charles Avenue was on high ground, or at least high for New Orleans. The neighborhoods where the floats lined up and people parked, however, were not.

  I ran upstairs to turn on the TV, and a local weatherman was already on the air, pointing toward a map of New Orleans with an isolated red blob over uptown. Which was weird. Florian should want perfect weather…for Rex. A heavy downpour might get Zulu to cancel. It had happened before and if I were Florian, I wouldn’t want to chance having a Zulu truck or tractor break down and stall the whole proceedings. It was diabolically brilliant, but at least no one from Zulu would get hurt.

  I opened my bedroom door and nodded at Kirian, and we all went back downstairs, where the Fae Hunters ha
d divided by gender at the front of the room.

  You could have heard a dragon fart at the quiet that fell over the room when Kirian walked in.

  Faulkner bowed to Kirian, who nodded at him before he lifted her onto the tabletop. Then he turned to me.

  “I don’t need to be up there,” I said. He held out a vial of fluorescent green liquid. “It’s liquid glamour,” he said. “This plan was mostly yours, and you need to be part of it.”

  “I insisted,” Kirian said. “I want you and your elven skills at my back as my personal bodyguard.”

  I huffed out a breath. I didn’t have an ounce of faery blood; with my pedigree, there was no way of knowing if this stuff would work, or if it would work too well. I turned to Rand. “What do you think?”

  “We tested it on a shifter, and it worked.” He pointed toward the doorway, where another Kirian stood…or she did when I pulled off my Gruff necklace.

  “Faulk, when a faery looks at another glamoured faery, what does he see?”

  He grinned. “He sees the glamour, not the faery underneath—and we can’t stand to be around dogs. It’s why faeries rarely bother to recognize other faeries. If Florian hadn’t been close enough to feel Methier’s aura at the jail, he would’ve thought it was Lord Randolph.”

  I shrugged. “Okay, then. How much faery glamour do you have, and how long does this stuff last?”

  “About eight or nine hours,” Faulk said, lifting me onto the table beside Kirian. “Should get us through showtime.”

  Rand hopped on the table next to me and held his hands up to silence the whispering. “I’m going to let my bondmate explain our strategy this morning since it was her idea.”

  “And if anyone has a better idea, we’re open to hearing it,” I said, wiping sweaty palms on the legs of my jeans. Public speaking hadn’t been part of the deal; I’d rather set something on fire.

  First, I told them what I thought was going on with the weather, and that I didn’t expect it to impact our parade. “Okay, those of you who know Prince Florian know that he kind of has a problem holding his temper.”