The Champion

by H. P. Mallory

  “Dureau,” I started, wanting to pull his attention away from the floor. “Do you remember the idea we had to enter the dream worlds of Luce’s tribe members together?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant with Sinclair’s child?” he demanded as he faced me, and his expression was hard.

  “I …” I didn’t know what to say.

  “I would have stopped chasing you immediately, had I known.”

  I gulped down a response and just sat quietly for a few seconds, staring at my hands as I searched for the right words. “I’m sorry,” I said finally as I looked up at him. “I haven’t known that long myself. And everyone says you aren’t supposed to tell anyone about a pregnancy until it’s for sure.”

  “I’m not anyone.”

  I nodded as I swallowed hard. “I know.” Then I grew quiet again. “I’m only just getting used to the idea.”

  “I thought we were friends. Non ?”

  “We are friends. You’re one of my closest friends, Dureau, and the last person I would want to hurt. I couldn’t be sorrier.”

  He stared balefully at me as I spoke. After a few seconds, he nodded and looked away. That’s when I remembered his current state and the fact that it appeared he was losing control of… his life.

  “Let me help you, Dureau,” I said as he turned to face me. “There must be something we can do to lift this curse.”

  “There isn’t.”

  “I don’t believe that,” I said as I leaned forward and eyed him narrowly. “I’ve always suspected that there was something you were holding back,” I admitted.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Dureau, is there something you haven’t told me?”

  He stared down at his hands for a long time. I was beginning to think he was asleep, or maybe inhabiting the dream world again, when he surprised me by speaking.

  “There is something,” he admitted as he looked up at me with eyes full of something—longing? Regret?

  “What is it?”

  “The D in Monsieur D,” he started, but then his tone of voice dropped as his gaze settled on the ground.

  “Yes?”

  He looked up at me then. “It stands for Dureau.”

  My mind started ticking furiously, going in all sorts of directions that didn’t make any sense. “But Dureau isn’t your last name, so, it’s not like you’re related to Monsieur D. I don’t understand …”

  “There is a custom en ma famille to include the mother’s surname within the name of the child.”

  “So Dureau is …”

  “My mother’s family name, oui .”

  “So, you are related …”

  “Audrey and I are related to Monsieur D on my mother’s side, yes.”

  “I see.” We both were quiet for a few seconds. “So, what is Monsieur D to you?”

  “He’s my great, great, great grand uncle.”

  “He’s really not that great,” I said with a little smile, hoping to lighten the mood. It didn’t work.

  “Okay,” I said with a sigh as I tried to piece together the significance of the information. “So, why would your own family member put a curse on you?”

  Dureau laughed without humor. “You think all families get along, Bryn? You think all family members love one another like you and your sister?”

  “I guess not.”

  “There’s nothing more vicious than a family feud,” he responded as his hands fisted around the arms of his chair. He glanced out the window and shook his head. “It tears a family apart.”

  I nodded.

  We were both quiet for a while. I guessed that for him, this was a lot to disclose. For me, it was a lot to take in.

  “It is tres difficile to talk about,” he said, still waving in and out of his French. “I’m most ashamed of my family’s past.”

  “Well most families have a few skeletons in their closets,” I said.

  He faced me with eyes that were angry. “My family has a whole graveyard full of skeletons.”

  “Oh.”

  “The Dureaus were slave owners in Louisiana.”

  He looked at me searchingly, as though examining me for signs of judgement.

  “You aren’t your family, Dureau,” I said.

  He nodded and then sighed. “They were one of the richest and most respected families in New Orleans. But their wealth was built on the suffering of others.”

  “Okay.”

  Dureau took a deep breath. “Monsieur D is the product of rape,” he said as he faced me and then stood up and approached the window, his back to me. “I’m afraid to say that one of my… family members … forced himself on one of his female slaves.”

  “Monsieur D’s mother.”

  “ Oui .”

  “I see.”

  He turned around to face me, and I held the intensity of his gaze. “I don’t blame you for any of this, I hope you realize.”

  “I appreciate the sentiment,” he answered in a way that said he might appreciate my words, but they were meaningless to him.

  He took a seat again and lifted his tea. We both stared into our mugs, which were no longer steaming. The information sickened me, of course. But, at the same time, I was glad for it, as it might prove useful. At the very least, it allowed me to better understand Monsieur D. And, what was more, I felt sympathy for him.

  “So, tu comprends ,” said Dureau, “that Audrey and I are paying for the sins of our forefathers.”

  I nodded. Then I reached out and took his hand in mine.

  “You know that whatever your ancestors did, it doesn’t say anything about you, right?” He didn’t say anything but glanced down at our clasped hands before looking up at me again. “You’re a good person, Dureau,” I continued. “Just because your great, great, great, whatever did something vile, doesn’t mean you’re in any way like him. And you don’t deserve this suffering.” I took a deep breath. “I swear to you, we’ll find a way to break this curse.”

  Dureau squeezed my hand and glanced down at the floor again. He looked like he was close to tears. We sat in silence for a while.

  Then I stood up and walked over to his side of the table.

  I kissed his cheek. “Do I have your permission to share your secret?”

  He looked up in alarm. “Is it necessary?”

  “Yes,” I nodded. “I mean, not everyone has to know, of course. Just a few. So we can work together to get rid of the curse.”

  He nodded, his body language heavy and slow. “You have my permission.”

  “Thank you, Dureau. You won’t regret it, I promise.” I paused for a moment or two. “I think the first person we need to tell is Jolie.”

  “Very well.”

  “Will you come with me to see her?”

  He looked taken aback. “When?”

  “Well, now.”

  “I can’t go now! I haven’t showered! Look at me!” he said as he glanced down at himself. “ Mes cheveaux !” He ran his hand through his oily hair. “I’m not dressed properly to see the queen.”

  “Okay, okay.” I tried not to laugh. He was almost as vain as Sinjin. “Can you meet me in the foyer of Kinloch in half an hour?”

  “Half an hour!” He looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. But as a woman who scarcely wore makeup and lived most of my life in yoga pants, it only took me minutes to get ready. “All right. An hour, then.”

  “Very well,” he responded as I shook my head.

  Men!

  CHAPTER NINE

  Sinjin

  I smelled Bryn before I saw her.

  Then I dematerialized forthwith and landed flat on my back, upon my own bed. It would not do for my little heathen to know that I had been pacing back and forth in front of Kinloch for the entirety of the time she was with Chevalier. Jealousy was a terrible affliction! You would think that at my age, I would know better. But, alas, from the moment Lady Bryn came into my life, my jealousy levels had reached new heights. And I did suspect that my recent stint
being human had ramped up my tendency towards jealousy even further. Quite a burden!

  My pet knocked softly upon my door.

  “Sinjin. Are you awake?”

  Oh, how I loved the cadence of her voice. “Yes, Bete Noir . Do come in.”

  She entered my bedchamber, a look of excitement on her exquisite face.

  “You’ll never guess what I just found out.”

  I patted the side of my bed, encouraging her to sit. “Why not enlighten me, my dear pagan?”

  She sat down, and I thrilled at her closeness.

  “Audrey and Dureau are related to Monsieur D!”

  And she proceeded to relate to me the entire sorry tale.

  She finished with a sigh. “Poor guy.”

  Hmm. I did not like this newfound sympathy for Chevalier. “He will continue to survive, such that he has the entirety of his life.”

  “You realize you’re much harsher in your criticism of Dureau than you are of any other person?”

  I considered her statement for a moment. “I believe I am equally harsh with Randall.”

  “Maybe you were in the past.”

  “Perhaps.”

  I ignored the look of amusement she threw in my direction. “Have you devised a plan, then, to help your most lowly friend?” I asked. “Of course, I refer to Chevalier.”

  “I know, Sinjin,” she responded with a smile. “And, yes, Dureau’s meeting me at Kinloch in an hour and a half.”

  “Just the two of you are meeting there? No one else?”

  Bryn took my hand and smiled at me. “Would you like to come, too?”

  “If you insist.”

  She laughed. “I do.”

  “Very well, then. I shall accompany you. I take it the idea is to relate this story to Jolie and then ascertain how to proceed?”

  She nodded. “Work out what to do next. Yes.”

  “In an hour and a half, you said?”

  “Yes.”

  “Which gives us time to …”

  I pulled her on top of me, her delicious weight and softness pressing upon my body. I could scarcely suppress a moan. Bryn giggled.

  “Don’t you think about anything else?”

  “It is said the average man thinks about sex every ten seconds. For a vampire, it is approximately every five.”

  “But that’s ridiculous. How could …”

  I silenced her words with the deepest of kisses.

  We made the appointment at Jolie’s by the skin of our teeth.

  The queen appeared quite alarmed to find the three of us upon her doorstep. Perchance she thought Chevalier and I were going to challenge each other to a duel, in order to win the fair hand of Lady Bryn (I must admit, the idea had occurred to me in the past). I knew we should have messaged her first.

  “What is it?” she asked, her blue eyes so like Bryn’s, yet somehow purer in expression.

  “Nothing to worry about,” answered Bryn, barging in past her sister. I am afraid that Luce had not prioritized teaching his charges the fundamentals of manners. Jolie held the door open, and the fop and I trooped in after her sister.

  We all sat at various locations around my queen’s spacious living room. To my great disappointment, Princess Emma did not join us, as she was otherwise occupied with a nap.

  “So, what’s the occasion?” Jolie asked as she looked at each of us in turn.

  “I think Dureau should tell you,” said Bryn. “He has information that might help us lift his curse, and then help us win this fight against Luce.”

  “Let me tell Rand,” she said, and then proceeded to text message that most disagreeable of warlocks.

  Randall arrived within ten minutes, and with visible reluctance, Chevalier recounted his tale. He would receive no judgement from me. I had carried out so many abominable acts in my long life that I had forgotten half of them. I was in no position to point fingers.

  When Chevalier had finished speaking, Jolie leaned back in her chair with a faraway look in her eyes. I could only presume she was processing what she had just heard. She nodded her head several times, as if agreeing with a voice in her head. We all waited patiently for her pronouncement.

  “Okay,” she said eventually as she leaned forward and began nodding in quick succession. “This is what we’re going to do.” She faced her sister. “Bryn and Dureau, you will contact Monsieur D via the dream world. Use your telepathic connection to keep in contact with and protect one another while doing so.”

  Bryn nodded. “Okay.”

  “Then give Monsieur D a message from me. Tell him that I know he’s betrayed us by giving information about Dureau’s curse to Luce, therefore making us extremely vulnerable to attack from our enemy. Tell him that I, Queen of the Underworld, am incandescent with rage.”

  I looked across at Bryn, and she raised an eyebrow. I surmised that she, like me, was wholly unable to imagine our dear queen even close to incandescent rage . The most I had ever witnessed from her was mild annoyance. Still, if anyone harmed Emma …

  “Let Monsieur D know that if he doesn’t lift Dureau’s curse forthwith, I will banish him from the underworld, with no option of a way back… forever.”

  I gazed with admiration at my queen and was reminded, once more, as to why she had been elevated to her position. A worthy monarch, of that there was no doubt. She combined kindness with a sense of justice and a sharp mind.

  However…

  “My queen, I am afraid I must object to your plan,” I started.

  “Sinjin?” Bryn ground out as she faced me and huffed to show her irritation. “What’s wrong with the plan? It sounds pretty damn perfect to me.”

  “I am not doubting the brilliance of my queen’s mental machinations …”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Sinclair,” Randall started. “Blurt it out!”

  “As you know,” I continued, facing each person in the room minus Randall. “The Lady Bryn is with child.”

  “What?” Randall responded.

  “Sinjin, not everyone knows,” Bryn said as she inhaled deeply and then sighed.

  “Well, they do now,” I responded.

  “Congratulations,” Randall told her.

  “Thanks,” she answered.

  “The father?” Randall continued.

  Bryn merely pointed at me. Randall followed her outstretched index finger with his eyes and then returned his gaze to his wife’s sister. “My condolences.”

  “Very funny, Randall,” I managed.

  “Back to the subject, please,” Bryn grumbled.

  I nodded. “As I was saying,” I began, “Owing to the fact that the princess is with child, I consider it most inadvisable to knowingly put her in harm’s way.”

  “How could I be in harm’s way?” the little twit demanded. “I’ll only be entering Dureau’s dream. I won’t even be leaving Kinloch Kirk.”

  “Forgive me, my dear Bryn, but I fear that you are being most disingenuous. If past experience has taught us anything, it is that the dream world is anything but safe,” I responded.

  “What business is it of yours?”

  I looked at my tempest with some consternation. “I think you know exactly why it is my business.”

  “Look. While this baby is inside my body,” she seethed. “I am in charge. Got it?”

  Really! Sometimes I wondered why I had chosen such a disagreeable mate.

  “If I might intervene.” Jolie looked from one to the other of us and spoke in a cautious manner. “Sinjin, I understand your concern, and it is noted. However, as queen, it is my duty to weigh competing interests. Consequently, it’s my opinion that the risk to Bryn and her unborn baby upon entering Monsieur D’s dream territory is minimal.”

  “Minimal!”

  “Sinjin,” Bryn said as she shook her head at me. “Please.”

  “Monsieur D is not violent in nature,” Jolie continued. “It’s not as though I’m asking Bryn to enter Luce’s dreamworld, for instance.”

  “And Monsieur D has give
n us reason to believe, in the not-too-distant past, that he would like to ally himself with us,” Bryn added.

  “Yes,” her sister agreed. “So, for these reasons, I don’t believe he’ll be hostile.”

  “And the potential benefits of a successful outcome are enormous,” Bryn added. “If we can lift Dureau’s curse, then we can execute the next part of our plan.”

  “Which is?” I asked.

  “Entering the dreams of Luce’s tribe and attempting to change the nature of their beliefs, once we reveal to them the truth of their ancestry,” Bryn responded. “If we can do that, we manage to avoid major bloodshed on both sides.”

  Jolie nodded. “Yes. I am decided. Dureau and Bryn are to contact Monsieur D.” Then she faced me. “Although it would mean quite a lot to me if I had your support, Sinjin.”

  I bit my tongue and merely nodded.

  So, the stage was set for contact to be made with Monsieur D.

  Mathilda and Mercedes—otherwise known as the Prophetess—had prepared a room in one of the unoccupied lodge houses. They were busy with all their witchy shenanigans, burning oddly scented herbs and muttering strange incantations. The room was by no means full.

  Present were me, Jolie, her irritating husband, Mathilda, Mercedes, and an Elemental by the name of Rachel. Rachel was the mother of Damek, a hybrid Elemental and Daywalker. She, too, had been forced to be a member of Luce’s hideous breeding program. She’d been brought along today because she possessed a telepathic connection with Bryn. Perchance we would require assistance in pulling her back …

  And, naturally, the couple of the moment was also present: Bryn and Chevalier. It irked me considerably that Mercedes deemed it necessary for the two to lie on a bed together in order to contact Monsieur D.

  Even worse, she wanted them to hold hands! I attempted to talk myself out of my jealousy, but the green-eyed monster sat permanently on my right shoulder, peering down at the couple on the bed. I told myself it was the only opportunity Chevalier would ever get to sleep with my darling tempest. It felt like cold comfort.

  My lady Bryn appeared anxious. “But what if Monsieur D’s not asleep and dreaming?” she asked Mathilda.