by L. M. Pruitt
I paused in the act of scooping more chocolate and marshmallow. “And another thing. Is there really a reason why you keep addressing me by my given and middle names? I mean, is it something I’m going to have to get used to or are you going to stop doing it after a while?”
Williams smiled, the slow kind my girly-side stopped breathing for but made my streetwise-side instantly go on guard. “Does it bother you, Jude Magdalyn? In my youth, in our situation, I would address you much more intimately than by your name.”
“Just so I’m clear, what precisely is our situation? Because I’ll admit, I’m more than a little out of my depth. You’ve got a couple of lifetimes worth of experience and I have no doubt you’ve put all that time to good use.” I licked the ice cream off the spoon, watching him watch me. I could have made it sexual, I’m not lacking in experience, but didn’t. You don’t play with fire unless you’re willing to get burned, and it was still too early to tell whether this was the kind of fire you could walk away from or whether it was the burn everything in the area to the ground kind.
“Our situation.” Williams rose from the couch and I wish I could say it was just like any other person getting up from a piece of furniture, but it wasn’t. It was more than catlike, it was like watching water move - it just does. I tossed the spoon in the sink, and snugged the lid back onto the ice cream, turning my back long enough to open the freezer door and shove it back in. By the time I turned around, he was standing in front of me, close enough to touch.
I eeped. It was better than a scream, which was the next option on my list of sounds. Slapping one hand against the refrigerator and one hand on his very close, very appealing chest, I made an effort to clear my throat. “Okay, see, this - this is what I would term a little too close for comfort.”
“But our situation, Jude Magdalyn, is one I doubt is going to lead to any level of comfort, anytime soon.” My hand was a non-existent barrier between his chest and mine, so I did what any self-respecting person would do and moved it down to my side. It was putting a cramp in my elbow, and it wasn’t doing any good where it was.
“Right. Our situation.” I paused and licked my lips, trying not to notice the way his eyes followed the innocent, nervous flick of my tongue. At the moment, he was close enough I could have licked his lips instead of mine. “What is our situation again?”
Williams laughed, the exhalation brushing across my cheek, and I shivered involuntarily. “Ah, Jude Magdalyn. Perhaps words are not explanation enough.” His face was close and so beautiful; it was just too much effort to keep my eyes open. As a result, I didn’t see him raise his face slightly, but felt it when his soft lips brushed across my left temple, and then my right. My right ear, and then my left. My left cheekbone, the bridge of my nose, my right cheekbone. Little brushes, barely enough to qualify as kisses, except for those amazing lips. People talk about being kissed like they’re being gobbled up but this was more like delicate sips of wine or water or some other precious liquid. They made my knees go weak and made me thankful for the refrigerator at my back.
“You need to tell me, Jude Magdalyn, if more explanation is necessary.” Apparently I wasn’t the only one affected by those little teases, because his voice was ragged and shaky. If I was smart, I would have pushed him away, kneed him in the balls, anything to put a little space between us. I wasn’t feeling very smart just then.
Smart is overrated.
I nodded. I wasn’t entirely certain my vocal cords could work at the moment. I hoped he understood what I meant, because explaining it was pretty much out of the question. I felt one hand reach up and cup my cheek, while the other traced the tattoo on my limp wrist.
What would have happened - the kiss to the end the ages or just the kiss ending with us both naked on a bed - I’ll never know. At that moment, someone chose to burst through the door I’d carelessly left unlocked.
“Someone said they saw the Prophecy on the streets! Williams, Gillian wants you to—.” The unfortunate messenger broke off in mid-sentence as he realized Williams was leaning against more than the refrigerator. “Oh. Well, I’ll, uh, I’ll have Gillian call you, and discuss her concerns with you.”
“Please do. And remind Gillian, the Prophecy has a name and a life outside of what we require of her. Things we might want to take into consideration.” Williams waited until the boy shut the door before speaking again.
“We’ll discuss this further at some other time. Gillian will no doubt be here in the flesh within the hour.” Williams headed towards the bathroom, looking for all the world as if he hadn’t just spent the last few minutes seducing me.
I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or pissed off.
“I was sure we agreed The Prophecy should not be allowed to run around the city unsupervised. Given the fact we are unable to predict how her powers will manifest, and how explosive they could be, The Prophecy should not, cannot, be allowed to be un-chaperoned.” Gillian wasn’t quite wringing her hands, but it was close. It would have been funny, except for the fact she kept referring to me as The Prophecy, and I was more than a little punch-drunk from my almost kiss.
Williams was too calm, especially if you took the almost kiss into consideration. He sat on my couch, serenely sipping tea, his face a perfect blank slate he could affect in less than a second flat. “No, Gillian, you made the decision and at the moment it was made I decided it would be less problematic to pretend to agree than to point out it’s foolhardy to believe a young, healthy female would be willing to be… chaperoned.” Williams sat his tea down on the coaster, which scored him points in my book, and ran one pale, perfect hand over his face in a gesture that on anybody else would have made me think they were tired.
I lay stretched out on the floor, or more accurately on the sleeping bag I kept for overnighters. I wasn’t entirely sure about being close to Williams when my hormones were uneasy. I’d rather err on the side of caution and not be tempted to jump him while there were guests. Besides, I had a better view of the show from a distance.
“It is absolutely unthinkable for her to be allowed to run willy-nilly through the streets of New Orleans.” Gillian stirred her tea absently. “What if she were to come into power out on the street, what could be expected to happen if she had no chaperone?”
“Most likely the same thing as today. She would return home, a discussion of what happened would ensue, and a decision on whether the power needed to be added to her practice sessions would be made.” Williams took a sip of tea, and managed to suppress a grimace.
“Practice sessions? Chaperones? Really, did any of you think to remember I have bills to pay, which means I have to work? And since I don’t have a college degree, hell, I don’t even have a high school diploma, that means I’m working odd and other less… ethical jobs.” I rolled from my side to my back before I remembered the lashing from the night before. I managed to not squeal, but only because I was biting my lip. With a sigh, I rolled all the way over onto my stomach, pillowing my head on my arms.
Williams raised a concerned eyebrow. I shrugged and rolled my eyes. His lips quirked up before he spoke again. “Practice sessions. The chaperone issue is under negotiation, but practice is non-negotiable. As to your expenses, I’m surprised Gillian and the Covenant haven’t given you the good news yet.”
“Oh, there’s good news? Well, that’ll be a pleasant change.”
Gillian raised her cup and sipped her tea. I’m not sure if it was as horrible as the cold tea on the table next to me, but based on her expression it wasn’t great. “Well, it’s news. Whether one would term it good is based on one’s perception.” Setting her cup down, she pushed her hair back in an eerily familiar gesture I couldn’t quite place. “The Covenant looks after their own. Knowing what a responsibility and how time consuming it is to lead the Covenant you will be provided for financially until the day of your death.”
Before I could wrap my mind around the first bit, Gillian dropped another bomb. “In addition to being provided
for financially, as your mother’s daughter, you are also the recipient of her monies and the titled owner of a piece of property on Royal Street. For the whole of its existence, the property has served as the primary base of the Covenant. During the last twenty-five years, the Covenant has conducted a good portion of its business elsewhere, but with the assumption of your ownership the dealings of the Covenant will once again be centered solely in one location.”
I tried to sit up but ended up having to wrestle my way out of the sleeping bag, costing me valuable seconds and an untold amount of dignity. “Wait, wait, just wait one effing second. Not only will I never have to go on the grift again, but I have a mortgage free house?”
“To be completely accurate, you have a mansion. I’m not sure on the exact count, but I believe there are roughly a dozen bedrooms between the main house and the refurbished servants’ quarters.” Williams smiled his little half smile again, clearly enjoying the way my jaw went completely slack. “I’m not sure what your feelings will be on the décor, but you have plenty of funds to redecorate it to your tastes.”
“May we please return to the matter at hand?” Williams and I turned our heads in Gillian’s direction. She threw her hands up in the air and exhaled a huff of air. “The issue of chaperoning the Prophecy?”
“Apparently you did not receive the message - the Prophecy has a name. A delightful, highly meaningful one. Perhaps if you say it a time or two, it will be easier for you to remember it.” Williams picked his tea up, looked up at the air conditioner vent, and set the cup back down on the table. “I personally enjoy saying her name. Jude Magdalyn.”
Gillian glared at us, huffing out another breath. “Very well, the issue of chaperoning Jude Magdalyn. I do not see how this is a negotiable issue. She simply cannot be unaccompanied. What if she were to meet Hart or one of his compatriots? At her current level of training, it would be akin to the slaughter of the lambs by the lions.”
“Gillian, you’re going to ruin your nerves completely if you continue at this rate. You know as well as I do, neither Hart nor any of his minions venture out in the daylight hours, nor does Hart believe in “stooping” to using humans.” Williams cracked his neck, sighing heavily before continuing. “The only time Jude Magdalyn will be in any danger is from sundown to sunup. Which is why I suggest she be assigned a guard of her own, preferably an even dozen.”
“Magic number.” When Williams and Gillian turned shocked faces in my direction, I threw my hands in the air. “Geez, you complain I don’t know enough Wicca, voodoo stuff, then look shocked when I show a glimmer of knowledge about what’s going on. Make up your damned mind.”
Williams smiled while Gillian looked more stressed. “We do seem to be of a somewhat divided mind, don’t we? Rest assured, our overarching goal is one we both agree on, and while our personal methods for reaching it may differ from time to time, it is the goal of the greater good that truly matters.”
“Well, as long as it’s for the greater good,” I replied, more than a little sarcastically. While it was great to not have to worry about bills or a roof over my head ever again, it didn’t make the fact I was going to have a dozen men watching my every move once the sun went down any easier to swallow. I’d never been the type of girl who liked having a shadow and I had a feeling a dozen of them would be twelve times as annoying as just one.
“You must learn to think of the greater good before anything else, Jude Magdalyn, if we are to win at this battle.” Gillian dumped her tea down the sink, confirming my assumption of its nastiness. “Hart and his forces already have a hefty advantage in light of your general inexperience. While the powers of the Covenant are vast, in the end, a battle will commence and you will fight Hart on your own. It is our job to ensure you live beyond the battle.”
“Yeah, I get this is really serious. I do.” I stood up, rolled my shoulders out, pleased when the motion didn’t send pain screaming down my back. “But what everybody apparently has forgotten is, even though I may have spent my early years in the convent school, I’ve spent nearly a decade in the real world, on the streets. Trust me, if Hart thinks he’s scarier than a winter night in D.C. with no money and no place to stay, he’s sadly mistaken.”
Gillian threw her hands up in the air, in a gesture so reminiscent of the Mother Superior I automatically flinched, a reaction that even twelve or thirteen years after the last time I’d been on the receiving end of a blow was still instinctive. I could tell by the look on Williams’ face he knew why I’d flinched and I rolled my eyes to cut off his sympathetic look. He broke into real laughter, not the fake kind reserved for awkward social moments, which this definitely was turning into.
Shaking his head, he stood, sliding his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “I think, Jude Magdalyn, we all underestimate you. I believe Hart is in for more than one unwelcome surprise before this is all over.”
Gillian shook her head tiredly. “Let us hope the surprise is how long she lasts, and not how easy she was to kill.”
I opened the window and reached for my emergency stress pack of cigarettes. “Well, I hope you’re not this chipper all the time. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stand it.”
Chapter Six
“Please, tell me you’re fucking joking.”
“Jude Magdalyn, your language leaves something to be desired.”
I stared at Gillian. “If my language is the only problem we have at this particular moment, we’re doing real good.”
I stepped off the sidewalk at the corner of Royal and Ursuline, flicking off the driver who honked the horn when I crossed in front of his car. I stared at the building in front of me, and shook my head. “I own the house catty-corner to Jacques St. Germaine. This is so not fabulous.”
The building at 1041 is infamous, nearly as infamous as the Haunted House a little bit further down Royal back towards Esplanade. Both have bloody, supernatural histories, and both ooze evil. Germaine’s more specifically involved loose women, bottles of bloody wine, and a cult in his name. Lucky me, I could see his resting place from my front door.
Never has the saying about there being no such thing as a free lunch been more relevant, at least to my way of thinking.
Williams caught up to me as I reached out and to touch the padlock that was the only visible sign of security on Germaine’s building. “Really, Jude Magdalyn, I think it would be safe to say - doing what you seem to want to would not be the best move.”
I glanced from the lock to him. “Why? I just want to know if I need to worry about a guilt-free killer hopping over to borrow a cup of sugar, or some wine to go with the blood he just collected. I’m looking out for my personal safety.”
Williams grabbed my hand and pulled me a few steps away from the door. “Jude Magdalyn, Jacques St. Germaine has left the city relatively alone for a number of years now. No one would thank you if you were to annoy him.”
I widened my eyes at him. “Annoy him? Whatever makes you think I would do something like that?”
“Because you lack discipline and focus,” Gillian snapped from behind us. She had crossed the street, but refused to step onto the sidewalk. Maybe she didn’t want any of the evil of the building to rub off on her. Or maybe she was just cranky. With her it was impossible to tell.
“I’m sorry, finding out about homicidal neighbors is sort of a priority as far as I’m concerned. Like you keep reminding me, I have no idea what I’m doing so forgive me if I focus on the little things like my neighbor murdering me in my sleep because that’s what he does.” The sarcasm might have been a little bit thicker than needed, but I was getting frustrated. All I’d heard for the past twenty hours was how inept I was and quite frankly I was sick of it.
“Ladies. I think we are all forgetting why we’re here.” Williams turned me away from Germaine’s building and back towards my own. “If we could all hold our tempers - and tongues - for a bit longer, perhaps we could manage to deal with the admittedly valid points raised.”
I ey
ed him suspiciously as we crossed the street again to where our ensemble waited patiently. “You weren’t by any chance a politician before you were turned, were you?”
The left corner of Williams’s mouth turned up slightly and I felt his fingers relax their one-step-below-viselike grip on my arm. “No, that is one occupation I have been fortunate enough to never have taken up. But seriously, Jude Magdalyn, will you do the city of New Orleans a favor and not disturb St. Germaine?”
“I promise to leave him alone as long as he returns the favor,” I replied fervently, crossing myself more out of habit than out of true fear. I didn’t have to look at Gillian to know she was rolling her eyes, something I was beginning to anticipate in much the same way I did Williams’s low chuckle. My guard made no sound as we crossed the street back toward them. No sound. No movement. I was beginning to wonder if they even blinked.
Standing in front of a house that had survived more than me, I had a sudden, acute longing for my crowded, but very much my own, apartment. Yes, this building had been my mother’s, and her mother’s, and so on for God knows how long, but it wasn’t mine. Looking at the key in my hand and the lock it would open, I wanted to hand it back over politely, find the closest bar, and get so drunk I couldn’t remember my name, let alone any of the other events from the recent past.
“Open the door, Jude Magdalyn. You can deal with all those messy emotions you’re undoubtedly feeling once we’re out of the open.”
Gillian’s voice shook me out of my ponderings and I had to resist the urge to snap her head off. Settling instead for a glare, I climbed the small set of stairs, jingling the set of oversized keys in my hand. I pressed a hand against the smooth, polished door, curious at the warmth emanating from the wood. Behind me, I heard a murmur almost overshadowed by the light gust of wind rushing through the street.
