Belle Chasse

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Belle Chasse Page 15

by Suzanne Johnson


  Interesting. Until he’d ordered me to kill Eugenie’s baby, I’d liked Willem Zrakovi. My opinion of him had been rapidly declining. He handled power badly, and threats to his power worse. “How did you meet Alex?”

  “I had to deliver some papers to him after he was named to represent the shifters on the big prete council,” she said. Damn it. I’d heard about that from everyone except Alex. “My father is paying me to run errands and do household tidying for him so that I have enough money to rent my own flat in the French Quarter. What a lovely place New Orleans is. Have you been to The Cat’s Meow?”

  Once, and once too many. “Bourbon Street karaoke clubs aren’t exactly my style. So you met Alex when you delivered papers?”

  “Right. We had a bit of a chat and realized we had a lot in common.”

  Oh, really now? A great many people loved The Cat’s Meow, but I couldn’t see Alex being one of them. “Such as?”

  “Well, we both think you’ve gotten a bloody awful treatment from Zrakovi, first off. Alex still trusts the guy, you know, but doesn’t like what he’s done to you. That’s sort of why I’m here. It was Alex’s idea for me to be your carrier pigeon.”

  CHAPTER 18

  I stared at Audrey, imagining a world in which I might write an encoded letter to Alex, roll it into a tube, strap it to one of Audrey’s long legs, and send her flying off in a transport. I did not want to live in that world.

  Besides, Rene could deliver messages. The Elders might monitor his movements and suspect what he was up to, but he was smart enough to avoid getting caught.

  Jean remained quiet, but gave me a somber look that told me he wasn’t keen on the idea either.

  “Audrey, that doesn’t seem practical.” I spoke slowly, choosing my words with care. I’d need verification from Alex before I’d ever believe this scheme, and even then, he might have been sucked in by her long legs and windmill arms. “With everything in New Orleans so dangerous right now, your dad will want to keep tabs on when you come and go. He’ll wonder why you’re seeing so much of Alex. If you make too many trips into the Beyond, he’ll wonder where you’re going.”

  She laughed. “Bloody hell, DJ. Contrary to anything my father told you, I’m not that stupid. Alex and I are pretending to date, so my dad doesn’t think anything of it at all. In fact, he’s quite glad Alex is ‘moving on’”—she made little air quotes with her fingers—“by getting past his infatuation with you. He thinks it’s helping Alex to fall in line with the wizards on the council. Plus, Dad thinks Alex will be a good influence on me.”

  Yeah, well, Dad thought I’d be a good influence on her, too, and look how that turned out. I wasn’t jealous over the dating ruse. Our courtyard kiss had been enough to reassure me that Alex wasn’t “past his infatuation” at all, but that didn’t mean I bought the rest of her story. She might be running home and telling daddy dearest everything Alex said to her. I didn’t know how I was going to do it, but I had to talk to him again.

  Not to mention put Audrey to the test.

  I forced a smile. “That’s just awesome. You guys thought of everything.” I gave Jean a warning look and got an arched eyebrow in return. “Could you take a message back to Alex for me tonight, then? I didn’t get a chance to tell him, what with all the chaos, but it’s really important.”

  Audrey looked as if Santa had arrived early in Old Barataria, bearing a load of size zero designer dresses and screw-me heels in a pirogue pulled by eight tiny alligators. “Of course! I mean, that’s the whole idea, right? You can write him a note or tell me what to say—however you’d prefer.” She grinned. “He told me you’d be too suspicious to trust me if he didn’t present the idea to you himself. Won’t he be gobsmacked that you trusted me right off?”

  “Totally gobsmacked.” I pondered what my message to Alex should be. “Okay, then. Tell Alex that he needs to call Robert Delachaise right away and let him know that Robert’s brother has recovered. And here’s the most important part: Alex needs to tell Robert that we want him to offer his clan’s allegiance to the elves.”

  Jean’s mouth widened in a slow smile. He, like Alex, knew very well that Rene’s twin brother, Robert, was dead. If word got back to Toussaint Delachaise that his deceased son was brokering deals with the elves, we’d know Cousin Audrey was either a double agent or, at best, had a very big mouth with no filter between it and her brain. Alex would realize she was being tested and if he was smart he wouldn’t give it away. Alex Warin was many things, but he was not stupid.

  I made Audrey repeat the message back to me twice, and sent her on her way.

  “You are most devious, Jolie.” Jean laughed and refilled his brandy glass. “It is a plan worthy of Jean Lafitte himself.”

  I’d take that as a compliment, coming from the king of deviousness. “We’ll see if it works.” Having an alternate way to get messages to and from Alex without risking arrest would be great, if the messenger were trustworthy. Rene was probably going to end up moving to Barataria if the water species left the Interspecies Council, and it might be harder for him to come and go.

  Audrey’s appearance had been awfully convenient, though. One day she was incommunicado with her father and the next she was in town and on his payroll. Not to mention suddenly dating Alex and offering to be a gopher. Something smelled fishy in Old Barataria and it wasn’t a merman.

  A screech from outside sent both Jean and me running through the open window onto the verandah. We stopped at the same time. Jean laughed and I tried hard not to, but failed.

  Audrey stood on the beach. Between her and the transport, looking up at her, was a shorter and very naked merman. Rene’s full range of tattoos, including a particularly fascinating diving bottle-nosed dolphin, were on full display. He stood with his legs apart in a pirate stance, hands on his hips, giving her the infamous Delachaise scowl. Her arms were waving and her mouth was motoring, although I couldn’t understand what she was saying because of the surf and my own choked-back guffaws.

  Jean nudged me with his elbow. “Perhaps you should intervene, Drusilla, lest your cousin reveal the nature of the message she carries.”

  Holy crap. I jumped off the front of the verandah and trotted down to the beach, waving the staff in the air and talking fast. “Bob, this is my cousin Audrey. Audrey, this is Bob; he has an aversion to clothing. Sorry, Bob, but Audrey has to run. Get in the transport, and I’ll power it up. I really need that message to get to Alex.”

  Audrey looked at me. “But he…” She shook her head as if trying to rattle the pieces of her brain back in place. I guess the sudden appearance of a heavily tattooed naked guy would be startling.

  “Right then. Off to St. Louis Cathedral.” Audrey stepped into the watery transport, and I knelt and touched Charlie against the edge. If she had rented a place in the Quarter, the cathedral transport would probably be closest for now. If by some miracle she turned out to be a legitimate option as a go-between for Alex and me, maybe I could help her set up a transport in her apartment.

  “What’s this Bob shit?”

  I’d forgotten the naked merman on the beach, so I filled Rene in on everything as we returned to the house, starting with when I found him at the Winter Palace. The last thing he remembered was being shot. He was walking a bit slower than usual, but other than that and some missing short-term memory, he seemed to have fully recovered.

  “So you puttin’ this cousin to the test using my dead brother?” Rene’s voice was grumpier than usual.

  “Sorry, it was the first thing I thought of that Alex would know but my uncle Lennox wouldn’t.” It hadn’t been that long since Robert Delachaise had died. The fact that he’d brought much of the trouble on himself didn’t help Rene cope one bit. I knew this because I still mourned my father, and it was his own actions that had led to his death as well. That knowledge hadn’t helped me either.

  I’d avoided talking with Rene about Robert’s death. Guys tended to get fidgety with emotional subjects anyway, and Rene was
worse than most. He’d mentioned it only once or twice, and I had figured if he wanted to talk about it, he would. Since I’d opened the door, however, I might as well walk through it. “How are you doing?”

  “How am I doing with the poison bullet or with losing my brother?” Rene didn’t make eye contact and since he had the highest pain tolerance of anyone I’d met—that dolphin tattoo couldn’t have been anything less than excruciating—I knew it was Robert’s death that weighed on him.

  “I’m talking about Robert. The holidays make things worse; that’s when I miss Gerry and Tish the most. Thanksgiving was really hard.” I gave Rene an awkward side-hug once we got back in the entry hall. Jean had retreated to his study. “Sorry I brought it up, but if you ever want to talk, I’m here, you know?”

  “Yeah, babe, I know. Lemme get dressed and we’ll deck the halls or something.”

  Yeah, because tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and even if Santa didn’t make an appearance at Maison Rouge, we’d have at least one elf in the house.

  While Jake and Collette took a trip into Old Orleans for a few supplies, Jean and Rene started a game of poker at the game table in the study. Eugenie stretched out on the recliner, toes aloft, while I painted her toenails a startling shade of blue. She’d already done my toes, which, combined with my pink clothing, made me look like someone had coughed up a nursery.

  “Let’s get a game plan ready for when Rand gets here tomorrow at four—stop moving your feet!” I cleaned a wide swipe of nail polish off the top of her foot, the result of a twitch when I mentioned Rand’s name.

  “I don’t know what to do about him.” Eugenie banged a fist against her forehead. “I wish he’d just go away. I can’t believe I thought I loved that freak.”

  Probably because he was a drop-dead-gorgeous freak who could be charming when he wanted to. Getting close to Eugenie had gotten him close to me, his intended target for political purposes. I’d often wondered if he had manipulated Eugenie’s emotions to make her think she loved him, but hadn’t had the courage to ask. If he admitted it, I’d hate that bond even more, although I couldn’t regret doing it. Otherwise, I’d be running on four paws across the island with Jake and Collette, except with wizard and elf mixed into loup-garou DNA. As bad as things were, that would’ve been worse.

  I finished the final coat on Eugenie’s left toenails before setting the bottle out of throwing range and venturing my opinion. She wasn’t going to like it. “The way I see it, Eugenie, you’re going to have to set up regular visits with Rand. You’re going to have to treat this whole visitation thing as if the baby were already here and you were sharing custody.”

  She lowered the footrest of the recliner with a thump and looked straight ahead. Her expression was so odd that I dropped my empathic shielding to do a bit of emotional eavesdropping. The anger I expected. The confusion I expected. The guilt surprised me.

  I nudged her blue toenails with mine. “What’s going on, Eugie?”

  She lowered her voice, probably thinking Jean and Rene wouldn’t hear. I hated to tell her but, like most shifters, Rene would hear her anywhere in this house if he wanted to, no matter how softly she whispered. “Christof offered to kill Rand,” she said. “I told him I’d think about it, but I don’t know if I can go through with it. Could I? Would it be wrong after all he’s done?”

  I glanced around at the guys and met Rene’s fierce gaze. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head. There was no need; I’d never go along with this idea, and I was mad as hell at Christof for offering.

  “It would be very wrong.” On so many levels. “Rand is this baby’s father, Eugie, like it or not. Your little boy will have some elven skills—maybe just a few, or maybe a whole lot. He’s going to need Rand to teach him how to use them.”

  Her face settled into the mulish look she got when she was preparing for a fight. Her lips thinned, eyes narrowed, nostrils flared. “But he—”

  I wasn’t letting this go any further. It wasn’t even worthy of a discussion. “Eugenie, no. Absolutely, unequivocally no. I don’t care what Rand’s done in the past. Let all that crap go. You need him and your baby needs him. It’s that simple. Plus, killing him would be downright wrong. You know that.”

  I could’ve gone on and on. About politics and ramifications and power struggles. But I didn’t get into any of that because, in the end, the only thing that mattered was this: I believed in moral absolutes that surpassed whatever political or religious labels we tried to put on them. Call them commandments or universal truths or federal laws or whatever you want. There was absolute right and absolute wrong. Murder was wrong.

  Rand had been wrong to murder his Synod leader Mace Banyan, which I knew he’d done no matter how many airplane accidents he concocted. I hated Mace, but that didn’t make it right. No matter how hurt she was, or scared, or angry, Eugenie could not murder Rand. That blood would be on her hands whether she actually did the killing or not.

  I’d been staring at my locket, twisting the dog’s paw around and around, thinking about how much time I’d spent blithering about clarity and how I needed some in a life that had become mired in gray. Now I realized I’d always had areas of clarity, lines I wouldn’t cross. I’d simply needed to mine more deeply, to reach the bedrock of who I was. It’s why being forced to use Charlie against Jean last month had almost killed me.

  When I looked back at my friend, to try and explain where I was coming from in what seemed like an inconsistent attitude toward Quince Randolph, I saw it wasn’t necessary. Eugenie’s face shone with tears, and her aura was coated in shame.

  “I know it’s wrong, DJ. I feel guilty for even thinking it, no matter what he’s done.” She swallowed hard and brushed the tears away from her eyes with the heels of her palms. “I just feel so helpless, and so afraid for my baby.”

  “Scoot over.” I joined her in the massive recliner and pulled her into a hug, peeking around to see Rene’s faint smile as he returned to his card game with Jean. The pirate, with mere mortal hearing, had been none the wiser about this particular drama. “If there’s an upside to this, Eugenie, it’s that Rand already loves this baby. He might be the biggest horse’s ass to ever father a child, but I really think he could turn out to be a good father. He’d protect this baby with his life.”

  I believed that, and hoped my non-husband the elf didn’t prove me wrong.

  A familiar scream sounded from outside, from the front of the house. This time, no one jumped up and ran out the windows. Jean merely took a sip of brandy and leaned back, looking across the verandah. “Jolie, if I am not mistaken, your cousine has returned. Please discuss this screeching habit with her if she is to continue coming here, s’il vous plaît. It is quite annoying.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Audrey had a legitimate reason for screaming. She faced an undead and mostly toothless pirate with a big pistol aimed at her head as soon as she materialized into the Barataria transport. Plus, high tide was coming in and she’d landed in warm salt water up to her knees.

  By the time I dragged her into the house and settled her into Jean’s chair with a glass of wine, she’d stopped hyperventilating. Her hand shook so badly the wine almost sloshed out of the glass before it reached her mouth. After a couple of sips, she calmed down. Honestly, if the girl was going to live in New Orleans—either the preternatural or human version—she needed to remain stoic at the sight of a gun.

  “If I was killed in the Beyond by an undead guy, in a place where everything is kind of undead itself, would I really be dead or would it be, like, a bad dream?” She looked bug-eyed but hopeful.

  “Sorry, no, unless you were already dead and famous or remembered by someone famous, you’d be pretty well screwed.” Unfortunate, but true.

  She took a few moments to absorb this inequity, and I noticed “Bob” had left the room with Eugenie and Jean had settled into a dark corner armchair, pretending to read while he eavesdropped. Good. I wanted his opinion after she left.

  “
Why are you back so quickly?” I glanced at my wristwatch, wondering not for the first time how Rene had found one with a pink band. She’d been gone only two hours.

  “Well, I delivered your message to Alex.” She smiled. “I thought it sounded like a serious message. You acted like it was serious. But it made him laugh, and he asked me to bring you this.” She held out an envelope exactly like the one Ken had brought, minus the blood spatter. “He made me wait in the other room while he wrote it. Was your message a test of some kind?”

  “Sort of.” As near as I could tell, she hadn’t opened the envelope. I tore off the end and pulled out the single sheet, written on my own Mardi Gras-colored argyle stationery that I’d left on Alex’s desk:

  Good one, DJ. Glad to see you’re as paranoid as you need to be. Audrey is okay. She knows how to keep her mouth shut. I’ve tested her a few times myself. Lennox isn’t watching her because he doesn’t think she has enough common sense to operate a transport. He flew her to New Orleans coach class when she got in trouble at her school in London for setting the dormitory on fire. I think there’s a family resemblance.

  She’s smart and honest, and doesn’t mind letting Lennox continue to believe she’s a hopeless case. She knows virtually nothing about the magical world except what she’s read in books, and too much time with her father has turned her against the bureaucracy, so use her and teach her. We might need her.

  Remember what we did the first night of the blizzard? On the living room floor? I want to do that again. Now.

  —Alex

  “Oh look, your face is turning the color of your sweater. He said something sweet. Did he say something sweet?” Audrey craned her neck, which was already quite giraffelike, and tried to see.

  I cleared my throat, folded the letter, and tucked it in my pocket, the rush of heat from that memory reaching far, far lower than my face. There had been nothing sweet about it. Hot? Yes. Frantic and a little rough? Oh yeah. But not sweet. “Never mind that. He’s vouching for you. That’s what matters.”

 

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