Jaguar (The Madison Wolves Book 12)

by Robin Roseau

  “Of course,” I said again.

  “Well then. I believe we will find my cousins in the library.” We stood together, and I followed her from the room.

  * * * *

  Giselle led me into the library, a short walk from the parlor. There were two women, already seated, talking as we entered, but they broke off their conversation as the door opened. As we stepped in, they both stood up, and immediately both pair of eyes flashed past the voodoo queen to the tall jaguar standing behind her.

  “Our last guest has arrived,” Giselle announced with a small gesture to me. She stepped forward, closing half the distance, and the other two women moved around the seating arrangement to meet us halfway. Like Giselle, they were in gowns, although the older woman’s was far finer than the younger’s.

  And that was the only thing finer about the older cousin, I would learn, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

  “Annabelle Delacroix,” Giselle said formally. “My cousin, Pandora Givens.”

  The older cousin held out her hand. I took it and smiled. “I am pleased to meet you, Ms. Givens.”

  “So formal,” she replied in a mid-western accent. “Call me Pandora.”

  “I am Anna,” I said.

  “And this is another cousin,” said Giselle. “Paisley Haines.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, Paisley,” I said, holding out my hand.

  For her part, Paisley stood there, staring up at me. “You’re a- You’re a- You’re a-“ Her aunt nudged her, and instead of finishing the sentence, she shut up.

  “You can say it,” I said. “What am I?”

  “Werewolf,” she whispered.

  “Of course not,” I said. I smiled and leaned closer. I knew she would find that a little intimidating, but to my surprise, she didn’t pull back. “Female werewolves are rarely my size.”

  She glanced at Giselle then back at me. “Then-“ She gulped. “What are you? Don’t even try to tell me you’re human.”

  “I’m not,” I said. “I find some people like to be told. Others like hints. Which would you like?”

  “Hints?” she asked.

  “Well then. What is the apex hunter of South America?”

  “Crocodile?”

  “My natural cousins dine on crocodiles. Think four legs, very large, and black fur.”

  “Pa-pa-panther?”

  “There you go,” I said. “Jaguar, to be clear.”

  “I-“ she said. “I-“. She broke off and looked at Giselle for a moment. Then she held out her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Annabelle Delacroix. You have the most amazing voice.”

  “Thank you, Paisley,” I replied. I used our clasped hands to pull her forward, between her aunt and cousin, then turned her so she was at my side, my steadying hand now on her shoulder, my other still clasping hers. “You’re from Nebraska?”

  She shook out her hair. “Can you see the hayseed?”

  So it wasn’t only Giselle who said that. Well.

  “I’m not sure. Turn around and let me look.” And then I turned her away from me, stepped up close behind her, and then began to look through her hair. I kept one hand on her shoulder, my fingers finding bare skin to touch, and my other hand caressed her neck a few times.

  And she stood there, letting me do it. If either Pandora or Giselle was shocked, I didn’t know. But Paisley let me look through her hair like that for a good ten seconds before she turned around, her eyes flashing. “I can’t believe you were just looking for hayseeds! Maybe you should turn around and I should inspect for ticks and fleas.”

  “We all know I wasn’t looking for hayseeds. You are dressed in far too fine a fashion for me to have found any.”

  “You!” she said, her eyes narrowing. “Then what were you doing?”

  “Stroking your lovely hair.” I offered a small bow. “My apologies. I can be quite the cad. But I just couldn’t resist. Please turn around so I may do it some more.”

  She stared up at me then asked in a small voice, “You weren’t really.”

  “Of course I was,” I said. “Does it smell as wonderful as it feels?” I reached for her, leaning as if to get in a good sniff.

  But she backed away from me quickly and pointed a finger at me. “Stop that! You’re terrible.”

  I grinned. “I know. But you’re not frightened of me anymore, are you?”

  She froze, and her finger slowly dropped. When I stepped forward and took her hand, she let me. I drew her forward again, and we faced Giselle and Pandora. “I believe, Giselle, that I am a lucky woman tonight, surrounded by such charm and beauty.”

  Giselle smiled. “Shall we sit? We have a little time before dinner.” She gestured, and then she and Pandora led the way, taking the two easy chairs and leaving the sofa to Paisley and me. I gestured Paisley ahead of me, letting her pick a seat, and then instead of taking the opposite end, I took the center of the sofa and rotated partway to face her.

  “Well,” said Giselle. “Anna, would you tell us about yourself?”

  * * * *

  I really did have a nice time. Giselle, of course, had all the charm one would expect from a southern woman of substance. Paisley was every bit as sweet as her cousin had suggested, and carried her own charm besides. Oh, it wasn’t a sophisticated charm, and manners are often regional, but I thought she did justice to her cousin’s home.

  And then there was dear Aunt Pandora. It would be a mistake to say Pandora was crass; she wasn’t. But she was all sharp edges and nasal voice. And she didn’t seem to be at all amused by me, although both Giselle and Paisley laughed frequently with me.

  We were halfway through the meal, still getting to know each other, when I found the opportunity to ask, “Do you come to New Orleans often, Pandora?”

  “Not often,” she said without even looking up at me. “This is my first trip since before Katrina.”

  “And you, Paisley? What do you think of our city?”

  “This is my first visit,” she said. “We arrived late yesterday, and we haven’t gone anywhere yet. There’s so much I want to see, but Giselle was busy today. She said maybe we can go on a little walkabout tomorrow. I want to see the French Square and Jackson Quarter.”

  Pandora snorted, then grabbed her water glass. But I wondered how well she knew the neighborhoods of Boston or San Francisco.

  “Ah, it is your first visit,” I said with a smile. I turned to Giselle. “Perhaps you would trust me to escort your cousin.” I didn’t wait for a response but turned back to Paisley. “But you must speak like a proper visitor to New Orleans.” I pronounced it as “Nawlins”. “It is the French Quarter.”

  She blushed and lowered her gaze, but her aunt received a dirty look, justified in my view.

  “Of course,” Paisley said. “The French Quarter and Jackson Square. I misspoke. Now you must truly believe if you look further, you’ll find those hayseeds.”

  “Not at all, Paisley, but if you’re offering, I wouldn’t mind looking.”

  She pointed a finger at me again. “I’m onto you, Annabelle Delacroix.”

  “Are you? And why do you seem to delight in using my full name?”

  “Because it’s just such a great name.” Then she said it very slowly, savoring each syllable. “Annabelle Delacroix. There’s no one in Ogallala with a name like that.” She paused. “I just can’t believe I’m sitting at dinner with a were jaguar. When Giselle asked what I wanted to do, I asked her if she kept any zombies, but she said no. So then I asked if she knew any werewolves. But you’re a lot better than a werewolf.”

  I buffed my fingernails against my jacket. “I know,” I said in a low, husky voice.

  “I didn’t mean that!” Paisley said.

  “You didn’t mean what?” I asked. “Werewolves are loud and crass and rarely half as charming as I am. Plus I fill a tuxedo far better.”

  “And you’re twice as vain.”

  “Also true,” I agreed. “You are very perceptive. So, you mentioned zombies.”

&n
bsp; “I’m sure you know who Giselle is.”

  “Of course,” I said. “Who is she?”

  Paisley stared at me, and then a look of horror crossed her face, and she turned to Giselle. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Pandora snorted again. “She’s messing with you, Paisley.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you suggest, Pandora,” I said in denial. “Giselle is one of the ladies of New Orleans society. I am unsure why Paisley mentioned zombies. Will you explain?”

  Giselle smirked at me then turned her gaze to Paisley, smoothing her features. “Yes, Cousin. Do tell.”

  Paisley squirmed in her seat. Then she settled. “You’re both teasing me now.”

  “Paisley, I know who your cousin is, but there seems to be some confusion, so why don’t you tell me.”

  She looked at me. She looked at her cousin. She looked at me and said, “Fine. Giselle is Madam Giselle, the voodoo queen of New Orleans.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” I said immediately.

  “Of course she is! I think I would know if my own cousin, even a second cousin, is the voodoo queen. And who are you to talk, were-kitten.”

  I leaned a little closer. “I’m a 400-pound were-kitten,” I said with a smile.

  “Jaguars aren’t half that big!”

  “Natural jaguars aren’t. I am somewhat larger than a natural jaguar. But we weren’t talking about me. We were talking about Madam Giselle.”

  “Ah, ah! You admit she’s Madam Giselle.”

  “I am only repeating the title you used,” I said. “Giselle is hardly the voodoo queen of New Orleans, and I might suggest she wouldn’t dare call herself that.”

  “Of course she does,” Paisley said. “Don’t you, Giselle?”

  “I’m sorry, Paisley,” Giselle said. “But technically, Anna is right.”

  “Technically?”

  “Technically.”

  “But you are the voodoo queen.”

  “Almost,” Giselle said.

  “Almost. You’re almost the queen?”

  “Oh, no. I’m definitely a queen. But I’m not the only one. I’m a voodoo queen of New Orleans. I wouldn’t dare refer to myself as the voodoo queen. That would attract no end of unwelcome attention.”

  Paisley glared at her cousin, then at me, then at her cousin, then back at me. “You were giving me shit over semantics?”

  “Actually,” I said. “I was keeping you alive.”

  “What? I can take care of myself.”

  “The supernatural powers in New Orleans can be quite jealous of those powers,” I said. “One must be properly respectful. There are at least six voodoo queens.”

  “Seven,” Giselle said. “And two posers.”

  “And those six others would not be pleased if they thought your cousin was setting herself up over them. Furthermore, I do not believe The Queen of New Orleans would be happy to hear she had a rival, either.”

  “Wait. What?”

  I smiled. “When one lives in the territory of one of the most powerful vampires in all of North America, one offers due respect, don’t you think? And when she styles herself as The Queen of New Orleans, everyone else should be very careful to avoid a similar title. One can be a voodoo queen, but not the voodoo queen. Do you see?” I didn’t wait for her to answer. “But this started with an offer to show you the city. Perhaps you will decline, afraid of more teasing.”

  She straightened in her chair. “I admit: you’re a master teaser. But if you’re not careful, I’ll turn you into a toad for a day.” She set a hand on her hip. “What do you think of that?”

  “I was not aware that turning jaguars into toads was possible under voodoo.”

  “Who said anything about voodoo?” she asked. “Pandora and I are witches.”

  “Witches,” I said, looking at Giselle. “I am somewhat surprised a detail like that didn’t come out somewhat earlier in the conversation.”

  “Oh,” said Giselle. “Didn’t I mention that? It must have been lost while you were looking for hayseeds earlier.”

  “Perhaps it was,” I agreed. I smiled and turned back to Paisley. “So. French Quarter. Jackson Square. Beignets. Zydeco. Teasing. A little croaking. What do you say?”

  “Croaking?”

  “You did threaten to turn me into a frog,” I reminded her.

  “I can’t turn you into a frog.”

  “I know.”

  “But I can give you a rash.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t.”

  “Will you stop teasing me if I promise I won’t give you a rash?”

  “Probably not,” I said. “But you could let me play with your hair. That might distract me from teasing you.”

  She stared and then said, “I can’t even tell if you’re serious.”

  “I never kid about beignets.”

  “I didn’t mean that,” she said with a huff.

  I reached over and took her hand. She let me. “I know what you meant,” I said gently. “I’m sorry if my teasing is too intense.”

  “It’s fine,” she said. “I just don’t know what you really want.”

  “Ah, well that’s easy. I want to take a lovely woman on a tour of my home. I want to show her the things the tourists come to see, but I also want to show her the things tourists don’t know exist. I want to take you to my favorite place for dinner, and then my next favorite place for dancing. Maybe you’ll dance with me, or maybe you won’t. But we’ll have a very nice time. If you really want, I can stop teasing, but I’m not sure you really want me to stop.”

  Then I waited.

  “Dancing sounds lovely, and I’ve never had a beignet.”

  “Well then. It seems we have a plan, or most of one. We must only resolve whether you will allow me to stroke your hair, and if I must stop teasing.”

  “I don’t think you’re capable of stopping.”

  “I am capable of a great deal, Paisley,” I said.

  She stared into my eyes for a minute. No one said a word. But then she turned to her cousin. “You paid her to distract me.”

  “I did no such thing,” Giselle said immediately.

  I dropped Paisley’s hand and asked, “Do you think I can be bought cheaply?”

  She turned back to me. “She offered you something.”

  “You think so little of yourself? Your cousin told me you were sweet and lovely and that she didn’t know how she was going to find the time to properly entertain you. I find she is right. You are sweet and lovely, and I believe I would enjoy your company. I also believe you enjoy mine, in spite of your protestations, but I could be full of more swagger than charm.”

  “Oh, you’re full of charm,” she said. “Too much charm.”

  I leaned back in my chair. “Your cousin invited me for dinner.” I gestured. “This meal is the only compensation she offered to meet you.”

  “She owes you a favor, then.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “You’re too perfect,” she said. “Look at you. Girls must swoon at your feet! And look at me. No one has ever swooned for me.”

  “Ah. Perhaps that is simply because the girls in Nebraska are not so delicate of constitution as to swoon. And I, of course, am a were jaguar. We never swoon.” I paused. “Paisley, I would enjoy escorting you about New Orleans during your visit. Would you like to join me?”

  “Of course I’d like to join you. But admit she’s paying you.”

  “All right. Giselle is paying me.” I turned to her. “You promised drinks, a fine meal, and perhaps conversation over an aperitif. If she says ‘yes’, you still owe me the rest of the conversation and that aperitif.”

  Giselle said nothing, and after a pause, Paisley said in a muted tone, “She’s not paying you.”

  “Nope. But now you owe me.”

  “I don’t owe you a thing.”

  “You certainly do. You were quite insulting, and so in compensation you must let me tease you and stroke your hair.” I turned to Giselle and smi
led sweetly.

  “Perhaps we could retire to the parlor,” said our host.

  * * * *

  That was Paisley’s last night she spent in her cousin’s home, at least during that visit. She spent the rest of her nights in mine.

  She was sweet, and lovely, and very gentle. She cried out quietly when she came, and then clutched me tightly afterwards. And she was small and delicate, and I loved holding her as we slept.

  And then I dropped her off at the airport so she could return home to Nebraska.

  Subterfuge

  “Good evening, Carissa,” I said in the phone.

  “Are you busy, Anna? I know it’s late. I’ve meant to call you all day, but time got away from me.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Is it too late for you to step outside and into the car I sent for you?”

  “Oh, my,” I said. “So mysterious.” I moved to the window. “Black SUV? Ah. Yes. That’s Anika. Do I need an overnight bag?”

  “No. I’m in the city. I’m sorry, Anna.”

  “It’s fine, Carissa. We’ll be there shortly.” We clicked off, and I hurried downstairs. “Good evening, Anika. I trust you are well.”

  “Quite so, Anna.” She opened the door for me, and I climbed in. A minute later we pulled into the light traffic.

  “Do you know what’s going on?” I asked. “Can you safely tell me?”

  “She asked me to retrieve you,” Anika responded. “That’s all I know. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sure it’s fine. She didn’t sound worried.”

  It wasn’t a long drive. Anika parked in the underground ramp. Ha. Underground in New Orleans. I didn’t know what Carissa did to keep it dry, but somehow she did. Then I followed Anika through the corridors until she admitted me to the same room I’d been in six weeks previously.

  Carissa was there, and Deirdre with her. They both stood when I stepped in. Anika announced me and then departed, closing the door behind her. I crossed the room and greeted Carissa and Deirdre warmly.

  “First off,” said Carissa as soon as we were seated. “I need to apologize again. This isn’t an emergency, and it was my poor planning that resulted in such a sudden summons. I really am sorry.”