by Kathy Love
Wow, that was impressive, wasn’t it?
“I think they want to take you, because they want your power. That’s my guess anyway.” He took a sip of his grape soda.
I could do without that happening.
Prince Perfection reached across the table and caught my hand. “But here you will be safe. I will make certain of that.”
I glanced at our joined hands and found myself squeezing his fingers back.
“Then I should probably tell you that I had some other dudes following me yesterday. They were these greasy, 50s-looking guys. Like Fonzie gone bad,” I said.
He nodded, pressing his lips together grimly. “Yes, they were swamp rats. The LaRouxs told me. Swamp rats are nasty shifters, but no match for the LaRouxs.”
“The LaRouxs?”
“The teenagers you invited in for breakfast. And tricked into admitting who they work for.”
Oops, I guess he found out about that. But then he smiled, so I guess he didn’t mind.
“They work for me as intel and security.”
I stared at him and then laughed. “Those little guys are your security? You? A big, bad rougarou?”
For a moment, he looked offended, but then he actually chuckled, too. “They are nutria Shifters.” He said it as if I should know what that meant.
“The little beaver creatures?” Spending all my time in the city, I’d never actually seen a nutria, but I knew the swamps were full of the critters.
He nodded. “They are great for intel, because there are lots of them all over the place in Louisiana. So they hear a lot. And they can also do some serious damage. It’s all in the teeth.”
I grimaced. “Really? Because the boys look like they could use a better dental hygiene regiment. Their teeth are a stained mess.”
He laughed. “They are orange because they have high levels of iron in their teeth. It makes them extra strong and extra dangerous.”
Hmm, well, that was a relief. I guess. I still wondered if some whitening stripes might not be such a bad idea.
I took a sip of my soda, thoroughly enjoying the overly sweet, fake grape flavor. Then I looked at the purple can, and a thought occurred to me. “You said ‘we’.”
He frowned, not following my comment. Understandably.
“You said ‘we have’ when you listed what beverages you have.”
He met my gaze, but I could see unease in his eyes. He looked away. “Umm, my mother actually lives here, too.”
Okay, I guess I could understand a grown man/rougarou, who was also the crowned prince of his pack, being a little embarrassed about living with his mom. But it wasn’t that out of the ordinary. So, I didn’t think that was really why he looked so uncomfortable.
Just then I heard a noise behind me. A quiet shuffling. I glanced over my shoulder. “What was that?”
He shrugged. “This is an old house. It settles and makes noises all the time.”
And that was exactly what people said in every haunted house movie. It’s just the house. It always makes noise. Then cupboard doors and drawers start opening and closing on their own, and utensils start flying. I glanced at the cream painted and distressed cupboards warily.
“You don’t have to worry,” he said, catching my nervous expression. “The pack’s area of the bayou is well guarded. I have 24-hour surveillance.”
I nodded, not about to tell him I was actually more worried, at least at the moment, about poltergeists than outside threats. Still, it was good to know storming marauders wouldn’t be a problem either.
There was another sound behind me. The creak of the floor and what sounded like someone or something making a shushing noise.
I turned toward the kitchen doorway. “You did hear that, right?”
Before he could answer, I saw two, small, pale faces peek around the doorframe. I jumped up. Little ghosts. I saw little ghosts. Oh man, child ghosts were the worst. So creepy.
Eyes widened in the pale faces as they realized I saw them, then they ducked out of sight.
I pointed, trying to find my voice to tell the prince what I saw, but before I could find the panicked words, he stood.
“Hugo. Lisette. Come out here.”
The two ghost children, who it appeared weren’t ghost children after all, reluctantly showed themselves. A boy and a girl. The girl was smaller, and while I really blew at guessing ages, she looked maybe five or six years old. The boy was taller and lanky, all arms and legs and I guessed he might be eight or nine. They both had big, hazel eyes and wavy dark hair.
“Since you are up and eavesdropping, you might as well come meet Miss Malachite.”
The kids looked, both shy and curious, as they stepped farther into the room.
“Hello,” Hugo said politely, but still looked unsure
Lisette said nothing, instead popping a thumb in her mouth.
Her brother nudged her. “Don’t be a baby.”
She stopped, but I could tell she was itching to put that thumb right back in her mouth. I got it. This was definitely a thumb-sucking situation.
Prince Perfection moved to put a hand on each of their shoulders. The children looked ridiculously tiny next to him.
“Malachite, these are my children. Hugo and Lisette.”
I blinked. Wait, I just got a husband and two kids in less than twenty-four hours. This was nuts. I didn’t know how to be a wife, and I sure as heck didn’t know how to be a mom. Like the judgy witches at the ball had pointed out, I didn’t even take great care of my familiar. I couldn’t be expected to keep children alive.
But I managed to push down my dismay and smiled at the two foreign entities.
“It’s nice to meet you. You can just call me Mally.”
The boy nodded solemnly. The girl hugged her father’s leg.
This was so bad. I could not do this.
“Okay, you’ve gotten a chance to meet our guest, now it’s time to get back to bed. It’s the middle of the night.”
Hugo waved, and Lisette just studied me one last time, before their father herded them toward the door.
“I’ll be right back,” the prince said with a final glance back at me, then they disappeared down the hallway.
I sat there, stunned. Maybe ghosts would have been better. I didn’t have any obligation to mother a ghost. And they were already dead, so no damage could be done there.
I was still in a panicked daze when the prince returned.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my kids right away,” he said, the same sheepish expression I’d found so cute earlier, was back. It wasn’t as cute this time.
“That probably would have been a good thing.”
He nodded, and I could see regret in his eyes. “I know this is a bit of a shock, but you don’t have to take on the role of their stepmother. That is why my mother lives here. She helps me with them.”
That was probably a good thing, too. Those adorable kids deserved someone with an actual clue how to parent them.
“Where is their mother?”
His handsome features grew grim, and I could see he didn’t want to discuss it, but he finally said, “She died three years ago.”
“I’m sorry.” I could see his pain was still raw. I could only imagine how terrible it was for Hugo and Lisette. I didn’t know how things worked with rougarous, but I knew werewolves mated for life. He’d lost his mate, and now he was saddled with me. He couldn’t really be any more thrilled than I was.
“You are really willing to be married to a stranger for a truce? I mean how does this even work?”
His lips pressed into a thin line, and I could see he was struggling to sort all this out, too. Then he sighed. “Something is going on in the bayou. Something dark. And my pack needs help. The witches’ help. And your help. You healed me. You can do that same for the rest of my pack.”
I gave him a doubtful look. “I told you, I don’t know if I can. That moment in the alley was the one and only time my magic actually worked.”
“I know you can,” he said with so much certainty, I almost believed him. “Plus, you are now in danger, too. That is my fault. I want to keep you safe.”
“So, how does our marriage work?”
He stared at me, and I couldn’t quite read his expression. “We are an alliance. And you will always be cared for and protected.”
Sadness washed over me. This was getting more like a gothic novel by the minute. I was in a marriage of convenience. Maybe I was more of a romantic than I thought because it was a real drag to think that was all I would ever have. An alliance.
I nodded, then stood up. “I guess we should head to bed.”
I didn’t feel like talking about this anymore. I started to exit the kitchen, but then paused and went to grab another sandwich. I could depression eat with the best of them.
Chapter Nine
“Wake up, Mally. Come on, I smell bacon.” Jocko tapped the glass of his aquarium for the umpteenth time.
I groaned, pulling the quilt over my head. Even the delicious smells wafting up to my bedroom couldn’t prompt me to get out of bed.
I’d stayed up most of the night, trying to figure out what to do. I kept coming back to the same conclusion, I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to be married. Children scared me. I probably couldn’t help the rougarou pack anyway. And I was stuck. Because Baba Yaga was not going to let me off the hook on this truce.
“I’m staaarving,” Jocko lamented.
I sat up, growling at him.
“Someone is hangry,” he said in an annoyingly cheerful voice.
“I’m not hangry,” I muttered, climbing out of bed. Okay, I might be a little hangry, but I was mostly tired and feeling very trapped.
I went to my suitcase and pulled out a cute, black, mini dress with flowy sleeves. Very witchy, but since I was the resident witch why not run with it. I gathered up my toiletry bag and undergarments and headed to the door.
“Where are you going?” Jocko called, rapping the side of the aquarium again.
“To shower. You’ll survive.” I left him still grumbling.
I’d found the bathroom last night, two doors down from my room. This room was as ornate as the rest of the house with a claw foot tub and the sink nestled into an ornate, antique stand with a gilded, framed mirror over it. At some point someone had added a tiled shower that fit into the decor but looked newer. It even had a rainfall showerhead. And the hot water felt wonderful.
By the time I was showered and dressed and had applied my makeup, I felt somewhat better. Still tired and uncertain, but less grumpy.
“It’s about time,” Jocko scowled at me as I held his ball in the aquarium. He scrambled in, glaring at me the whole time.
“Who’s hangry, now?” I said, popping on the top.
He pouted but remained quiet. At least for a few moments.
“Hoo lawd, look at these digs.” He pressed his claws on the side of his ball and gawked around as we headed for the staircase. “Swanky.”
The house really was gorgeous. And much less spooky in the light of day. When I reached the bottom of the steps, I crossed the foyer to peek outside. There was a large porch that appeared to wrap around the house. Past that was a lush green lawn, which stretched down to the waters of a bayou. I could make out a pier and a flat-bottom boat. Trees draped in Spanish moss rose up from the still water.
I studied the picturesque view a moment longer, then followed the delicious scents of breakfast foods down the hallway toward the kitchen. But I stopped when I spotted Lisette in a large dining room. Her sweet, little face just peeked up over the dark wood dining table. She bit her bottom lip as she carefully set forks next to bone china plates.
“Like this, Mémé?” she asked, looking across the table.
That was when I saw a tall woman, who appeared to be in her forties, arranging a vase of purple and white flowers in the center of the table. She looked up to answer and noticed me—and Jocko—in the doorway. There was no mistaking this was Prince Perfection’s mother.
She smiled politely, although I couldn’t miss the reservation in her eyes. “Good morning. You must be Malachite.”
“Mally,” I said, my smile a little stiff, as well. She knew this was a bad idea. I’m sure she wanted more for her son than an alliance, too.
“I’m Thea, Etienne’s mother. And I believe you met Lisette last night. She has been chattering on about you all morning.”
I smiled at Lisette. I couldn’t imagine what she had to say after only meeting me for a few moments.
“Good morning, Lisette.”
To my surprise, she offered me a timid smile back.
Down the hall, I heard the front door open, and I heard male voices. The prince and the two men I’d seen from the ball strode my way, all tall and muscular and more than a little intimidating.
“Good morning,” Prince Perfection said. He actually looked pleased to see me. “You look nice.”
I felt my cheeks heat up. Oh, come on, I was not going to get all flattered and crap by a compliment from the guy, who I was essentially in a business deal with. I could play it cooler than that.
“Thank you,” I said, keeping my voice casual.
“These are my brothers, Marcel and Gaylord.”
Gaylord, who was clearly the younger of the two, stepped forward and held out his hand. “Please promise me right now, that you will never, never call me by my given name. It’s Guy.”
I couldn’t help but grin. “I promise.”
“Gaylord is a perfectly good name,” his mother said from the dining room. “It was your grandfather’s name.”
Guy shook his head adamantly, but said sweetly, “I know, Mom.”
Marcel was taller than Guy, and not nearly as friendly-looking. He regarded me suspiciously, his arms crossed over his broad chest. He didn’t greet me, so I jutted my hand out to him.
“Nice to meet you, Marcel.”
He eyed my hand like I had leprosy, then turned and headed back down the hallway and out the front door.
“Please excuse my son,” Thea said. “He’s just not sure about this…”
“He’s not sure about a truce with the witches,” Guy finished for his mother.
I nodded, not sure what to say. But fortunately, the awkward silence was broken by Hugo opening the front door and shouting. “They’re here. They’re here.”
Lisette, forks forgotten, joined her brother to dash back outside.
Oh, dear Goddess, please not more rougarous stopping by to ogle the evil witch. To my surprise, Prince Perfecton placed a hand on the small of my back and guided me toward the front door.
“But the bacon,” Jocko moaned, seeing we were heading away from the dining room. “Oh, the bacon.”
I didn’t even hush him, because through the multi-paned glass of the front door, I saw my family gathered on the walkway, looking up at the house.
“My family is here?” I said, confused.
Prince Perfection nodded, smiling proudly. “You didn’t exactly get a real wedding. Or reception. And then there was the whole 80s thing going on. So, I thought it would be nice to at least have a proper wedding breakfast.”
I stared at him, and in that moment, I think I fell a little bit in love with him.
Darn it.
Soon my family was in the dining room, all settled around the table. Two chairs remained empty. One for their missing brother. And one for Marcel, who had not returned, but all of the Dubois family didn’t allow that to dampen their hospitality.
“Thea, I must say you are an amazing cook,” JR said, spooning another helping of Cajun fried potatoes onto his plate. Mom raised an eyebrow at him, and he quickly added, “You will have to give us the recipe, because Freya is an excellent cook as well, and she loves new recipes.”
“I do,” my mom agreed, somewhat appeased.
My siblings and I exchanged looks, trying not to laugh.
I watched as Iris told Lisette and Hugo the story of meeting an octopus
Shifter—keeping it G-rated, of course. Ghede, Guy, and Sam talked about fishing. Violet and my mother were complimenting Thea on how gorgeous the house was, and JR, like a true dad, discussed with the prince how much the air conditioning bills must be to cool a house this size. Jocko bobbed in his ball, near the beautiful floral arrangement, happily munching on his bacon. Finally.
The whole scene was perfect. Except it really wasn’t. I was married to a virtual stranger, who was counting on me to help him. And so was his family. I looked at the empty chairs. One brother hated me. And the other needed the witches, and possibly me, to save him. If it wasn’t too late already.
Suddenly, the whole situation was too much. I stood up and everyone at the table stopped talking to look at me.
“I just need to use the restroom,” I said lamely. “I’ll be right back.”
I didn’t wait for a response, leaving the room and heading down the hallway toward the front door. I carefully tugged it open and slipped outside. I pulled in a deep breath of air, the earthy smell of the bayou filling my nose. I ran down the steps and around the side of the house, not sure my plan but just needing to escape.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t exactly religious about my workout routine and after a few moments, I had to slow my pace. I need to calm down. Or run away. Or rather, walk away quickly. Maybe I could just disappear. Change my name. Move to Canada.
Yeah, that would never work. But I still kept walking, hoping I could just chill out and accept my new fate. I found a path along the bayou and turned down it. It was shady and the trees and grass swayed gently in the breeze. Tired and still overwhelmed, I sank down onto the grassy bank, watching dragonflies flitter over the dark water. Near me, a big bullfrog splashed into the still water. I watched the ripples circle outward.
Then I noticed cute, rustic, little houses on stilts along the edge of the water, nestled in the trees. Then I saw more houses, bigger ones, all through the woods. This must be where the rougarou pack lived. And maybe the nutria lived in the stilted cabins. It was like a magical hamlet. Something right out of a fairy tale.
