Jaguar (The Madison Wolves Book 12)

by Robin Roseau

  I nodded. “I like your pack, Elisabeth. You have built a good home here.”

  “Thank you. It’s difficult at times, but we like it.”

  Twenty minutes later, we were at the airport.

  * * * *

  Carissa seemed withdrawn for the first part of the flight. The three of us gave her space, but then she looked to us. “I’d like to talk.”

  We took the seats she indicated. “Joanna, are you all right?”

  “Yes. If he were one of your wolves, I could lose my heart. But we both know that isn’t to be.”

  She nodded then stared out the window. But a moment later she reached over and took my hand. I leaned closer and set a hand on her shoulder. I’d never seen her need comforting before.

  “They are so sweet,” she said, casually. “Like humans. Not at all like wolves. But with all the strength and stamina.” And I realized she was talking about Iris and Lindsey. “I can’t tell you how much I wanted to keep them, almost as much as I wanted to keep Michaela.”

  She stared out the window a while. And then Anika and Joanna moved closer, kneeling on the aircraft floor and laying their heads in Carissa’s lap.

  After a moment she released my hand and caressed each of them, casually. Gently. “You two are so lovely,” she said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “How can we help, Carissa?” Anika asked.

  The vampire didn’t answer. Instead she turned to look down at the two of them, gazing at them for a while. Then, slowly, she turned her eyes towards me. “Anna, do you have duties that can’t wait a week or two?”

  “No, Carissa. Not a single one.”

  She looked back at the two humans, their heads still in her lap, their devotion beyond obvious. “You two. Look at me.”

  They both immediately raised their heads. Carissa set a finger under each chin, holding them in place with just a touch. “I love you both so much. If I touch you now, I will hurt you, and I couldn’t forgive myself. I require your help only for a few minutes, and then in a week, you will pry Anna from me and offer yourselves. It should be safe by then.”

  “Yes, Carissa,” they said.

  She gestured, and they stood and backed away, but they didn’t go far. Carissa turned to me. I looked down at her chest for a moment then smiled. I knew she needed an offer, but that offer didn’t need to be in words. I stared at her chest for a moment then slowly lifted my eyes to hers.

  She smiled, understanding what I had done, and she captured me. I could have looked away, at least the first few seconds, but then I grew lost in her eyes, and I felt her mind wrapping around mine.

  “Come to me,” she ordered, and my body moved, sliding around until I knelt in front of her, our eyes now nearly at the same level.

  Then she said nothing, only stared into my eyes for a while, holding me. I don’t know how long we stayed like that until my eyes grew heavy, and they closed. I felt her pull on me, and I felt her move us around. And I knew the moment her fangs entered me, although it didn’t hurt at all. And then I was filled with such pleasure, and whatever last thoughts fled, entirely fled, and all I could feel was Carissa, stroking my body, stroking my passion, stroking my mind.

  Part Two

  Ogallala

  Life went on. For a while, Carissa distanced herself from me, but it was only temporary, and I found myself invited to dinner in April. She didn’t have anything in particular she wanted, she was only letting me know we were still friends.

  In May, I received another invitation, the sort one doesn’t ignore. It arrived by personal delivery, a formal, hand-written invitation, and as soon as I saw it, I called Carissa.

  “I need to see you,” I told her. “Today. Please.”

  “Of course. Come any time. I’m at the home in town.”

  “Then I’m leaving now. Half an hour.”

  “The tea will be on.”

  It was more like twenty minutes; I drove fast. I was expected, and one of Carissa’s humans led me through the underground warren, finally coming to a sitting room. Carissa rose and greeted me warmly, the human melting away to give us privacy.

  “I might be in trouble,” I said. I handed her the invitation. Carissa nodded and gestured to a seat. We both settled, and then she deliberately opened the envelope and removed the single card.

  She read it just as deliberately then slipped it back into the envelope before tapping it against her lips, studying me. “Have you responded?”

  “Not yet,” I said. “Carissa, I don’t mess with voodoo queens.”

  “I don’t, either. Could you have insulted her?”

  “Not that I know. If I had, I would apologize. Anything I did was unintentional.”

  She tapped the card against her lips for another moment before setting it on the coffee table between us. She steepled her fingers and looked over them, studying me. “You have, at times, been mine, but you are generally a free agent. You are not automatically under my protection. I do not believe living in that fashion would agree with you.”

  “I am not here for your protection. I am here for your advice, and to ask if you have heard anything.”

  “No.” She smiled. “Perhaps we should choose boldness.” She reached into a pocket and withdrew her phone. She held it up. I stared for a moment, then nodded.

  It took her a minute to make the call. She held the phone to her ear and then said, “This is Carissa. I’m sure you’ve heard of me. I would like to speak with your madam.” She smiled at me. “I’m on hold, if you can believe it. I’m not sure whoever answered knows who I am.”

  I returned the smile, weakly.

  Then she sobered. “Ah, Giselle. Thank you for taking my call. Yes, it’s good to hear your voice as well. Giselle, you and I have never exactly been friends, but nor have we been enemies. I have been happy with the status quo, and I believe you have as well. Good, good. So I understand I may be poking my nose where it isn’t welcome, and if so, I deeply apologize, but I must ask a question. Has Annabelle Delacroix done something to annoy you?”

  Then she paused, listening.

  “Oh. Excellent. I’m so glad to hear that. I wouldn’t have asked, but Anna is a friend, and I have few friends such as her. No, no, only my advice. I’m sure you understand. Your invitation was an unexpected surprise, and she worried she had unintentionally offended you. She came wondering how to apologize, and for what. No? Excellent. I’ll tell her. Thank you, Giselle. I feel much better.” She disconnected the call, set the phone down, then looked at me.

  “It is, if you can believe it, a social call.”

  “Excuse me.”

  “Someone wishes to meet you.”

  “Wait,” I said. “She’s matchmaking?”

  Carissa laughed lightly. “Apparently.”

  “I think I’d rather I’d offended her!” I exclaimed. “Oh god. How do I get out of this?”

  Carissa laughed again. “Anna, relax. This is a case where your reputation will do you quite well. I can’t imagine she’s expecting love to bloom. I didn’t ask for details, and even if she offered them, I wouldn’t ruin her fun by telling you. Here is my advice: accept the invitation, arrive with an open mind, and be yourself.”

  “Carissa...”

  “What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “Hello. Voodoo queen. Hideous, odious niece, and one love spell.”

  Carissa laughed again. “You’re immune.”

  “I rather doubt that.”

  “You are. I know for a fact you’ve shrugged off at least three such spells and I suspect at least two others.”

  “You’re not serious.”

  “Quite. It’s not that you can’t love, and I can’t promise you’re immune to all voodoo rituals, but you seem to be quite immune to that one.” Then she smiled sweetly. “Now, spells of passion seem to really like you, but those never last.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  “Word gets around,” she said enigmatically. “People tell me thi
ngs.”

  “Well, what if she’s odious?”

  “Anna, relax,” Carissa said. “Giselle isn’t going to do anything to annoy me. While I don’t want to destroy her, as it’s such a bother, she knows I am more than willing and able. She won’t hurt one hair on your beautiful head.”

  “Didn’t you tell her I didn’t come to you for protection?”

  “Yes, and I also told her you would receive it anyway. Which you knew when you called me. Anna, this is what we do for each other. We help each other, and we don’t keep score when we do so. Yes?”

  “Yes,” I said. “But I hate asking.”

  “I know you do.” She leaned forward and patted my hand. “You look so dashing in a tuxedo.”

  I sighed and let Carissa have her fun teasing me.

  * * * *

  The invitation specified formal, and was for only three days hence, an intimate dinner. Giselle even sent a driver, and it wasn’t long before we pulled up in front of her home. I was surprised. I had expected a home in the Vieux Carré, the French Quarter. Instead, I found myself gazing at a lovely home in the Garden District. I climbed from the car and stepped away from the front door, wanting to see more of the house.

  Well, well.

  By the time I made it to the door, it was held open by a young human woman in what was clearly a maid’s uniform. She bowed her head to me and said simply, “Welcome.”

  “I am Annabelle Delacroix,” I said. “Madam Giselle is expecting me.”

  “Of course, Ms. Delacroix,” she responded. “Madam is waiting in the parlor.”

  I followed the woman for a short walk through the house. It wasn’t quite a mansion, not by New Orleans standards, but it was far nicer than my home. I looked around and wondered if I should upscale.

  But then we arrived at a double door. The maid knocked, paused, and then opened the doors for me. “Ms. Delacroix,” she announced.

  I stepped past her and into the room, coming to a stop.

  The room was typical New Orleans, stylishly ornamented and apportioned, although all of the furniture was more to human standards than someone of my size.

  Seated in a chair near the fireplace was another human, female, Caucasian, of perhaps fifty years. Her blond hair was long, reaching past her shoulders, and her features sharp. She was dressed in a lovely, green gown, and when she turned to look at me, she smiled.

  Never in a million years, looking at her, would I have guessed this was one of the city’s leading voodoo queens.

  “Madam Giselle?”

  “Ms. Delacroix,” she said, rising to her feet. “Welcome.” She held out a delicate hand, and I crossed the room to clasp briefly. “Thank you for coming.” She gestured to my own chair, and we sat, both of us partly facing each other, partly facing the fire, with a small table between us, sheltered from the heat by our two chairs. Upon the table were two glasses of white wine. Giselle picked one up and handed it to me. She tipped her glass towards me and sipped, and I did the same with mine.

  Then she carefully set aside her glass, and I mirrored her.

  “I must apologize,” she said. “I really didn’t think how my invitation could be received.”

  “I was sure I had done something to insult you, but for the life of me, I couldn’t imagine what.”

  “Not at all, Anna. You don’t mind if I call you Anna, do you? And you may call me Giselle. We can save that madam stuff for the tourists.” I inclined my head. “We’ve met. Did you know?”

  “I’m sorry,” I replied.

  “Well. I believe you cut a more memorable figure than I do, and you might only remember me if I had dressed for my role. It was, oh, perhaps four years ago. There was an event.”

  “At a gallery,” I said. “Some artist. I don’t remember whom.”

  “Vincent St. Dominick,” she said. She leaned forward and spoke conspiratorially. “I had heard such things of his work, but I wasn’t moved to purchase a single piece.”

  “I did not chose to become a patron, either,” I said. “We stumbled into each other in front of that sculpture.”

  “It was ghastly,” she said. “I couldn’t figure out what it was.”

  “I believe we discussed it. You thought it was a swan, recently disgorged from a meat grinder.”

  “And you were sure it had been the wings of Icarus.”

  “The after picture,” I added. “There were all those feathers.”

  “We agreed they were feathers,” she said. “But, Dear Anna, we did not stumble into each other. You would not believe what I went through to capture you alone for those few minutes.”

  “Did you?” I said. “You need have only asked.”

  “But that would have been obvious, My Dear.”

  “But why?”

  “I recognized you. Well, I recognized what you were and thought I knew who you were. So I asked, and then I wanted to meet you.”

  “I’m sorry. We didn’t even exchange names.”

  “I didn’t intend to be recognized myself,” she said. “The cats keep to themselves.”

  “We do,” I agreed.

  She paused, then picked up her wine and sipped again. I watched, studying her. She really was quite unassuming. Most of the voodoo queens in New Orleans were black, often from Haiti or Senegal, but it was not unknown for a white woman to study the arts. Still, I wouldn’t have guessed Giselle as anything but a rich socialite.

  Giselle watched me, sipping from her wine, and I waited to see what she wanted. Finally she set it back down again. “I want to assure you, you are safe in my home. I do not engage in the petty games of some of my sisters. One has to work to earn my wrath. Carissa’s warning wasn’t necessary.”

  “I went to her for advice, wondering how I could have slighted you.”

  “I understand. I’m sorry. But I didn’t know how to phrase an invitation that said, I want to introduce you to my cousin.”

  I smiled, but nervously.

  “Relax, Anna,” Giselle said. “She’s never met any of the weres. She’s visiting from Nebraska, of all places. And we’re not talking Omaha, either. Ogallala.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “No one has ever heard of it,” she replied with a smile.

  “I’m sure it’s a very nice place.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Giselle agreed. “I have never been.” She leaned forward again, this time capturing my hand. “This is only dinner. Conversation. That is all. We are four. The two of us, and my two cousins.”

  “Ah, so I am meeting not only one cousin, but two.”

  “Yes, but you will know which one I wish you to charm.”

  “How is that?”

  “Look for the hayseed in her hair.”

  I stared for a moment. She said it with a straight face and then waited for my reaction. “Giselle,” I finally said, “That is unkind.”

  “Anna, she is very sweet, very lovely, and very, very naïve. She asked to meet a werewolf, but I suggested I could do far, far better than that. She has no idea you’re going to be here tonight. We’ll join them shortly. Drinks. Conversation. Dinner. Perhaps a little more conversation.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Perhaps not.”

  “Ah,” I said. “Perhaps not, hmm?”

  “If you like her, and if she likes you, perhaps you could offer to show her the city. Charm her.”

  “And her sister.”

  “Not her sister,” she said. “Her aunt, my first cousin. Technically, the woman I wish you to meet is my first cousin once removed. It is quite convoluted.”

  “I think I understand.”

  “You won’t like the aunt, but I have business with her, and I wouldn’t mind if my lovely, sweet, and naïve younger cousin were happily occupied during her stay. But if the two of you don’t hit it off, then she’ll have met her were, and I’ll find other distractions for her. There is no obligation, Anna. I am pleased that you could come this evening, and even more pleased to see you loo
king so dashing.”

  “Carissa’s recommendation,” I said, glancing down at my tux for a moment. “You understand dress makers have a hard time designing dresses for me.”

  “A pity. You would look amazing in the right gown.”

  “And so quickly you decide you don’t care for the tux?”

  She smiled again. “I love the tux.”

  “So. Charm her. Perhaps distract her for a few days.”

  “Ten.”

  “Ah.”

  “And one more thing,” Giselle said. “Whatever happens, she’s going back to Nebraska. She’d be eaten alive in New Orleans.”

  “Am I responsible for her safety?”

  “Only from petty criminals,” she replied. “I’m sure you can handle that.”

  “Yes,” I said. “I believe I can.” I picked up my wine and sipped, watching her over the rim, wondering when the shoe would drop. Giselle smiled and mirrored me, saying nothing. But nor did she recommend we meet her cousins or suggest another topic. Which meant this topic wasn’t resolved.

  “Why me?”

  She smiled again. “Several reasons, and in no particular order. You have a certain reputation.”

  “Love ‘em and leave ‘em?”

  “Yes, but no one ever feels used, Anna. They speak fondly of you.” I inclined my head. “Next, a female were, and one who is traveled at that. Third, a lesbian female were, but one who knows how to be gentle, even with a human. And all that makes you virtually unique in all of New Orleans.” Then she laughed. “And I liked you, and I think you were right about that horrible sculpture. It wasn’t a swan at all.”

  “I’m not sure it was the wings of Icarus, either.”

  “Perhaps not, but you made me laugh. And I thought you could handle me, and show well here.” She gestured. She smiled. “Remember. She’s going back to Nebraska. If she makes even a hint of staying, you must notify me immediately, even if it’s only in passing.”

  “Of course,” I said. “But Giselle, you are asking me to become friends with her, but then to possibly violate her trust.”

  “Not at all. I am asking you to help me protect her. You’ll understand shortly.”