Belle Chasse

by Suzanne Johnson

“Please.”

  As soon as the door closed, I collapsed onto the floor and lay on my back. Breathe in. Breathe out. I willed my temper to calm. Failing that, I convinced my muscles to relax, drawing on years of meditation I’d used to control my empathy and strengthen my own mental wards.

  When I’d finally gotten a handle on my fury at Christof, I put on my proverbial suit of pink armor and prepared for fury of a different nature. Rand! Where are you?

  No answer, so I tried again with the same results.

  The pink watch, which was still ticking despite the deluge, told me it was a quarter till four. Chances were good that, unless he were in Elfheim, Rand would see what was going on in New Orleans and try transporting to Barataria early. I still felt a strong will to live, so I assumed he hadn’t drowned in the waves. Therefore, there was a strong possibility he’d show up any minute.

  My anger at seeing Christof and his Mount Everest of Magic would pale beside Rand’s response. It would take all of us to keep him from dragging Eugenie straight to Elfheim, and I didn’t know but that it might be the safest place for her right now. Christof and Florian and their traveling magic show changed everything. I said a prayer for Alex’s safety, then took a deep breath and opened the door to the hallway.

  Jean lounged against the wall and looked at me with raised brows, probably waiting to see if I was still angry.

  “Come on in. You’re right—we need to talk.”

  “Is your temperament more sanguine, Drusilla?”

  “Not on your life, but we still need to talk.”

  He came in and sat beside me on the bed. “First, I must ask one thing. How went your conversation with Monsieur Zrakovi?”

  That debacle had occurred only a few hours ago, but it felt like a month. In telling Jean about it, the rest of my anger drained. The people in this apartment, and the loups-garou still at Maison Rouge, were my only true allies. By association, that included Christof, whether I liked it or not.

  “I don’t see any way of changing Zrakovi’s opinion of me,” I said after telling an abbreviated version of the story. I didn’t have the strength or time to explain second-line parades to a 230-year-old undead pirate.

  Besides, losing my connection to the wizarding world had torn another jagged chunk out of my damaged heart. Until today, I’d thought I could salvage something, even if I couldn’t practice magic openly. The realization that I’d failed surprised me in its hurt.

  “Eventually, your wizards will come to you for help, Drusilla, and things might look differently. Our world stands on the brink of great change. Good or bad, I do not know.”

  My pirate, the philosopher.

  For the first time, it occurred to me that Jean Lafitte, who’d always proven very well informed in the affairs of the preternatural world, might know what Rand was up to. I should have asked him earlier. My elf’s deadline for making promises approached, so maybe it was time to confide in my unlikely confidant.

  “Rand is up to something with regard to Zrakovi.” I told him of the demands Rand had made, and the threats. “Obviously, he’d have a cow if he knew I was telling you this, so don’t share.”

  Jean’s brows drew together, and I added, “I mean, he would be most upset if he knew I was telling you this, so please don’t let him know about it.” I also didn’t think we had time for a bovine discussion; the cat conversation hadn’t gone very well.

  “Oui, you speak truly. Let us talk of Mademoiselle Eugenie first. Please consider what I ask before you react in anger.”

  Who, me? “Okay.”

  “Given the matters I will reveal to you in a moment, consider whether your friend and her enfant à naître might not be safer in Elfheim until we understand how things will proceed.”

  I’d thought the same thing, after seeing Christof’s arrival and learning the princes had left Faery toting their peoples’ magic with them like so much oversize baggage. “I know Rand will protect his child, but I need reassurance from him that he’ll protect Eugenie as well—from himself.” He could destroy her mind faster than I could transport to Maison Rouge and back.

  Jean nodded. “And Mademoiselle Eugenie might need to be convinced of this thing, but Christof would be able to help in this, I think. He does not wish to endanger her.”

  True, Eugenie and “Chris” had formed some unholy alliance and he might be able to influence her—but only if Rand behaved. I’d need some way of making regular checks on her, even if it meant making daily jaunts to Elfheim. I so didn’t want to do that.

  “Do you think she would be safe with Rand in New Orleans?” I might be able to sell her on the idea more easily if she could go to her own house occasionally.

  Jean pondered the question for a moment, then shook his head. “I do not think it would be as secure as Elfheim, my apologies. In his homeland, Monsieur Randolph would have staff at his disposal to help her and fighters who would protect her if needed.”

  He was probably right, but I wasn’t sure how Eugenie would take it. Then again, between Violette being killed and the vampire attack and now the hurricane, she might have had enough of life on Gilligan’s Island in the Beyond. I was getting pretty sick of it myself.

  “What’s this other thing you have to tell me? I assume it has to do with why Christof is here, along with The Arch.”

  Jean leaned back on an elbow, forcing me to do the same so that we faced each other as equals.

  Equals lying on a bed in the Beyond during a fae hurricane. No amount of talk could make my life normal.

  “As you have realized, Christof and his brother are now openly at war.”

  I arched a brow at him. “Yeah, I kind of picked up on that.”

  “The rumors that Christof has shared with me, whose truth I have not been able to confirm, are that your elf has proposed to your First Elder a change to the Interspecies Council.”

  I sat up, looking down at Jean. “Do you know what the proposal is? That has to be the subject of Rand’s second promise.”

  “Oui. Christof says he learned this information through the boasting of his brother, so he believes it to be true.”

  The fae couldn’t lie outright, so that meant it likely was true. “What are the changes?”

  “He has proposed that the wizards should no longer lead the council, and that only the wizards, elves, vampires, and fae be represented by one person each, with an equal vote in all matters. A fifth member of the council with voting ability would be chosen from among all the other species.”

  Oh, boy. The Elders would fight that loss of power with everything they had, and it would render the council hierarchy meaningless. Currently, the wizards, fae, and elves all had three representatives each, the vampires had two, and smaller groups such as the historical undead and the water species had one each. The First Elder held the position of the ranking member of the council by virtue of the fact that the wizards were the largest group, population-wise. But not by much.

  “So if you were chosen to fill the fifth seat, your vote would be equal to that of Elder Zrakovi?” I couldn’t help but smile, thinking I might have seen a hint of the pirate’s endgame.

  “Oui, in theory.” Jean grinned. “But the value of the fifth vote to break a tie would depend on who had formed alliances on behalf of their people, yes?”

  Yes, indeed. Rand would only propose such a change if he thought he already had majority votes in his pocket.

  “Has he proposed this to anyone other than Zrakovi?” No wonder Z was in such a pissy mood earlier today. He had big problems on his shoulders and I was like an annoying gnat he wanted to squash.

  “To my knowledge, no, he is waiting to hear Monsieur Zrakovi’s decision before he decides on his next maneuver.” Jean sat up. “Is this an arrangement to which your Elders would agree?”

  I thought about Zrakovi, who as First Elder would hold all the power for our people. No way in hell my uncle Lennox would go along with that. He didn’t trust Z. I didn’t know the other Elders but I doubted they�
�d want Zrakovi holding all the power either. If it were to happen, my guess would be that either Zrakovi would be forced out, beaten down to be a mere spokesman for the larger Elder group, or be killed so someone more politically savvy could take his place. I almost felt sorry for the guy, who was probably a decent person and a strong wizard who’d been thrust by ambition and circumstance into a role to which he was thoroughly unsuited.

  Almost sorry for him, but not quite.

  “I don’t think the Elders would agree to it, no. What do you think of it?”

  “It is an interesting proposition, but there is more we do not yet know.” Jean paused. “Before he fled the capital of Faery, Christof saw your elf entering the Royal Tower. He assumes it was to speak with Florian.”

  Rand was meeting with Florian? “If he got Florian to throw his portion of Faery behind the elves, the vampires would happily join them. Rand would rule the council.” And by extension, the entire preternatural world. “Holy shit.”

  Jean didn’t even chastise me for my language. “Mais oui, and that is what Christof suspects.”

  I got up and paced the length of the room a couple of times, thinking. “Why would Rand approach Florian and not Christof? I mean, Florian is crazy; Christof would be a much more dependable ally; plus if I’m Rand’s ‘bond-mate,’ why not ally himself with my ally?”

  “This is something Christof and I have discussed much. You make me dizzy, Jolie.” Jean reached out and grabbed my hand as I paced past him, and pulled me back to sit beside him on the bed. “We have no answers, but perhaps you might get information from Monsieur Randolph that we have otherwise been unable to learn. If the wizards do not agree to his terms, war is inevitable, Drusilla. It will be costly in lives and could expose our kind to the human world. We need to know what your elf is planning so that you and I and our allies may prepare.”

  Right, because I’d be on Rand’s favorite person list once he discovered I had Eugenie stuck in Old Orleans in the middle of a hurricane, riding it out with Christof and his magic.

  Unless.…

  I got up, took a deep breath, and walked toward the door. Rand might talk to me if I gave him one of the things he most wanted. “I need to talk to Eugenie.”

  CHAPTER 29

  Twenty minutes later, I sat downstairs with Eugenie, watching her reapply her makeup after she’d cried away the previous application. Christof and his machines were stashed in his mad scientist laboratory-slash-bedroom, probably seeing how quickly he could form ice crystals in test tubes. He’d promised not to make an appearance until Jean gave him the go-ahead. Rand did not need to see the faery prince and his mechanical minions.

  Eugenie’s makeup job was so professional that no one would be able to tell she’d been crying. I rarely wore makeup, and wondered if a nice bottle of ivory foundation with a good SPF would help me attract more normal people to my life. Then again, it hadn’t helped my poor normal friend who’d found herself pregnant by an elf.

  She’d made our discussion incredibly easy. All I’d had to say was something to the effect of, “Eugenie, we need to talk,” and she’d said something to the effect of, “Yeah, I’ve been thinking I should go to Rand’s house in New Orleans, or to Elfheim. Maybe he’d let me visit Matt and the girls for a few hours. He’s been acting better lately, and, sorry, but things are getting too weird around you and your friends.”

  Talk about an understatement. Thank God she didn’t realize her favorite faery Christof was in the back of the apartment, playing mad scientist.

  Now we were waiting for Rand. He’d show up eventually. If he hadn’t made it by four thirty, I’d transport to Maison Rouge and make sure Jake and Collette hadn’t blown away. I wouldn’t worry about Rand himself until my own will to live waned.

  I’d warned Eugenie that I was going to use her as a bargaining chip and made sure she was okay with it. I needed to know what was going on politically and I needed a promise that Rand would let me see her alone whenever I wanted—or, the way things were going, whenever I could escape the latest train wreck. And it had to be a promise I’d believe.

  DRU!

  I eeped and almost fell off Jean’s stiff, formal settee. If we ever got out of this mess, I was going to suggest he let Rene update his furnishings.

  Rand, where are you? I purposely didn’t screech. I didn’t raise my voice. I even sucked up. Are you okay? I was worried.

  Yeah, worried the imperious I-am-Elf version of Rand would show up and ruin my schemes.

  He didn’t answer. I waited a moment, then was getting ready for some low-key mental screeching when the familiar tingle of transport magic crossed my skin. A second later, a very wet elf arrived in the transport with a half-dried loup-garou.

  I tossed Rand a towel I had brought with me for this very purpose. His shoulder-length hair was plastered to his skull. Thanks to Rene staying here when he was in Old Orleans (who knew?), the apartment had a lot more modern conveniences than Maison Rouge. Towels, for instance, and running water.

  He caught the towel and glowered at me on his way to Eugenie. Great. He was already developing his inner glow and we hadn’t spoken a word. On the plus side, his internal body heat should dry his hair faster.

  He knelt in front of her, and I said a silent prayer of thanks that Eugenie didn’t tell Rand she’d been cramping earlier. Once she had gotten something to eat and laid down awhile, she seemed okay. Rand would have the official word, though, and he placed his hands on her belly and closed his eyes.

  “He’s been afraid but is okay now.” Rand shot an accusatory glance my way. “We need to talk about your living accommodations, Eugie.”

  Eugenie had been well coached. “Yes, we do—after you talk to DJ. I’m going upstairs for a little while to lie down.” She placed her hand on top of his, which was still resting on her abdomen and communing with his elfling. “We’re going to do what’s best for him, Rand. DJ’s going to have the final say.”

  Rand watched her leave with a placid look on his face that was as fake as the straggly wet “fur” on the top of his mud-soaked boots. When he stood up and looked at me, nothing on his face said placid. More like dead meat.

  “Where’s Jake? Why did only Collette come with you?”

  Good, judging by the blank look that crossed his face, the unexpected question had thrown him off-balance and disrupted his planned rant. Plus, I wanted to know.

  “Jake wanted to secure a few more things in the house before he came—it’s getting torn up pretty badly. He’s fine, though. Not hurt.”

  I nodded. “Good. Would you sit down? We need to talk.” I seemed to be hearing and saying that a lot lately.

  “Have you thought about the promises I asked you to make?” He spread the towel out on Jean’s recliner and sat on it.

  “Yes, and here’s my counterproposal. If you tell me what your plans are concerning the Interspecies Council, and if you guarantee Eugenie’s safety as well as your child’s—and I mean her mental health and not just her physical health—then I will convince Eugenie to go with you to Elfheim to live until the political climate has settled down or the baby comes, whichever she wants.”

  Rand sat forward in Jean’s recliner and stared at me as if I’d grown antlers. Really big antlers. “Agreed.”

  “Not so fast. I want to make sure you understand exactly what I’m asking, because if any part of it isn’t upheld, I will tell her not to go with you. If you break the terms once she’s with you, I will come down on you with every bit of firepower my elven staff can muster.”

  He quirked one side of his pretty mouth. “Even if it kills you as well?”

  I quirked right back at him. “Absolutely. Even if it kills me. Without hesitating.”

  He fidgeted a moment, then gave me a brusque nod.

  “You will not do anything to change Eugenie’s moods, alter her mind, or shuffle through her memories or past. You won’t force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do. You’ll make sure she gets medical care and understan
ds what that care means. I don’t want her scared. I don’t want her brainwashed. I don’t want her hurt in any way. Do you agree to these things?”

  Rand didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

  “Do you swear on the life of your son?”

  He winced. Good. Now he knew how I felt when he wanted promises made on Alex’s life. “I swear on the life of my son.”

  “Okay.” I had no choice but to trust him, because it really had become unsafe for Eugenie to stay with the Lafitians. If a preternatural world war broke out, she would make an easy pawn. She needed a kind of protection I couldn’t provide any longer, and as much as it galled me to admit it, Rand could.

  “Okay, then. We agreed, but will Eugenie?” Rand glanced down the hallway where she’d disappeared.

  “Yes, she’s getting her things ready. Most of her stuff is still in Old Barataria but who knows if it will survive this storm. It would be nice if she could go to her house in New Orleans and get what she needs.”

  Rand nodded. “I will take her. The weather isn’t so bad there—just a lot of rain.”

  “Speaking of rain, I guess you know this storm was caused by Florian.”

  Rand got up and came to sit on the floor in front of me, using the towel to dry his hair. I handed him another to wrap around his shoulders. We didn’t have time for him to hibernate on Jean’s floor and he’d already started shivering. Thank God I only had enough elven genes to worry about hibernation in extreme conditions.

  “I’ve made a proposal to Zrakovi regarding the makeup of the council.”

  “Wait.” I wanted him to make sure I hadn’t promised to keep this to myself. “I’m not promising anything on Alex’s life. I just want you to understand that.”

  “We’ve gone past that stage. You can tell your allies here. Even Christof.”

  I pasted on my best clueless look. “What do you mean?”

  Rand grinned. He was such a pretty man; what a waste of beauty. “You’re a bad actress, Dru. Besides, I can sense his aura here. You got that skill from your elven genes, remember?”

  Right. I laughed. “Yeah, okay. He’s here, although I think he’s getting ready to go on the move again.” Rand sat up straighter, so I added, “And no, I don’t know where he’s planning to go.” Far, far away, I hoped.