The man’s brows lifted a little and he nodded. “Very good. Not what I expected, but a welcome response.”
“Did you really think I’d let the right to avenge Livie’s death fall to someone else? Hell, no.”
“I understand.” The man nodded, his hands coming together in front of him. He wore flesh-colored gloves like she did. Was he fae? “It’s a shame it took something like this to bring you to this decision.”
“It’s a shame I have to accept this position.” Augustine sighed heavily. “I want it to be official immediately. I need to talk to the vampire.”
Vampire? An icy shiver shook Harlow. Was that who had mugged her mother? She knew vampires existed, but to find they were here, in this city, set her nerves on edge. She wasn’t one of those who’d welcomed the breaking of the covenant with open arms. Not when it meant people now automatically assumed she was fae.
The man, definitely also fae, continued. “We can perform the ceremony tonight. Seven o’clock at the Prime’s home.”
“I know it. I’ll be there.”
The man relaxed, looking very relieved. “Thank you.”
Augustine snorted. “Like I had a choice.” Then he shut the door.
Harlow sidled over to one of the bookcases, pretending to peruse the volumes as Augustine came in, and putting a little distance between them. She had a thousand questions to ask about the vampires, but wasn’t sure she wanted the answers. Instead, she tapped one of the books’ spines. “I guess my mother wasn’t much on technology. There’s a fortune in books here.”
“She was fine with technology. Read on a tablet just like everyone else, but she liked the feel of paper books, too. Liked the way they smelled, the way they felt in her hand. Liked to think about all the people who might have read the book before her.”
Harlow nodded. “That sounds like her. She was very sentimental.”
He perched on the back of one couch. “And you’re not?”
“Not like her. I prefer to live in the present. I like simplicity. Practicality.”
“Is kissing a stranger practical?”
She ignored his question, but couldn’t escape the heat it raised on her skin. “I like the conveniences of modern technology.” She waved her hand through the air, hoping to focus him on a different subject. “This place is beautiful, but it also seems like it’s stuck in the past.”
“This house?”
“This house, this city… all of it.”
His incredulous look said he wasn’t impressed with her opinion. Again. “I understand you’re new here, but this city is all about history and tradition. We live and breathe it. That’s why people come here, you know. That charm. That sense of gentler times when people knew their neighbors and actually spoke to each other. Which we still do here.”
She nodded like she understood, but what he’d just described sounded horrifying. “I suppose.”
Silence stretched between them like barbed wire until Augustine spoke. “What’s with the gloves? What kind are you?”
“What kind?” She knew what he was asking, but even talking about it put her in defense mode.
“What kind of fae? I know you’re part haerbinger because that’s what Livie was, but are you another kind or did the line just come through you so strong you don’t like skin-to-skin contact? I’m guessing that’s what it is based on the way you pulled away from me after our kiss.”
“You ask a lot of questions.” And he kept bringing up what had happened between them. So much for it not being weird. She tucked her hands into the pouch of her hoodie. She had zero interest in answering his questions.
He shrugged. “Just curious. I know it’s rare for a particular line to strengthen in a single individual unless combined with another fae line that causes it to magnify.” He tapped his chest. “I’m one of those. Part smokesinger and human mixed with a whole lot of shadeux.”
She didn’t have any idea what he was talking about so she just nodded. “I’m not any of those things. Really I’m barely fae at all. My father is human.” Then the lie she fell back on popped into her head. “I just don’t like germs.” She wiggled her fingers at him. “Total germaphobe.”
He laughed, his sudden smile lighting up his face in a way that reminded her of the night of Nokturnos. And of the smokiness that perfumed him. And of the way his kiss had left some of that smokiness dancing on her tongue. The sudden intensity of the desire that memory built in her made her squirm.
He nodded like he’d suddenly figured her out. “No wonder you like things modern. You’re gonna hate New Orleans then. History tends to make things a little grimy around the edges. And Bourbon Street? Well, you saw for yourself that it’s not exactly clean and tidy, although they try. You might like a plantation tour, though. Or the aquarium.”
“I don’t plan on doing any touristy things.” She’d done enough of that already. “I just came to take care of my mother’s estate, then I’ll be leaving.”
His brows shot up. “What was Nokturnos all about then? You sure looked like you’d planned for it.”
“I didn’t. It was a whim. And obviously a bad one. Can we please let that drop?”
He held his hands up. “Got it. But really, if you want to do a tour or visit one of the museums—”
“No. None of it. I just want to take care of my mother’s estate and go home.”
His smile morphed into confusion. “You’re in New Orleans and you’re not the least bit interested in seeing what else this great city has to offer?”
“All that charming, grimy history?” She raised her brows in disbelief. After how it had worked out the first time? “I’ll pass.”
He slid off the couch and back to his feet. “Fine, but that’s just weird.”
She’d had enough weird.
The housekeeper came in. “Room’s ready for you. I can take you up there unless you’d like something to eat? There’s plenty of food in the house.”
Before Harlow could answer, Augustine jerked his thumb in her direction. “Lally, get this, she doesn’t want to go to the Quarter or the aquarium or do a tour or anything.”
Lally tipped her head to one side. “Augustine, her mama just died. Let the poor child mourn.” She held her hands out to Harlow. “Look at her. All pale and tired. You can see she’s grieving.”
Harlow cleared her throat. Pale and tired was the general tech geek appearance; grieving for two parents had only multiplied it. “I’m fine, really. Just want to get things taken care of, get the house up for sale and get home.”
Lally paled. “What?”
Augustine swiveled to look at her like she’d just announced she planned to murder someone. He shook his head like he didn’t understand. “You’re selling this place?”
“I don’t see that I have much choice. Did you think I was going to live here?”
Lally put a hand to her mouth, then tried to compose herself. “I don’t know what I thought was going to happen, but I guess that’s that then. It’s your right, being the heir and all. I just… I should go start dinner.”
“Lally, wait,” Augustine said. “You won’t have to look for another job or a place to stay. You can come with me to the Guardian’s residence.”
“I can’t leave this house.” She looked at Harlow. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“That’s for damn sure.” He shot Harlow a look. “You might be Olivia’s blood and you might have her eyes, but you sure don’t act like her.”
“I’m okay with that,” Harlow shot back. “She wasn’t exactly a model parent.”
He laughed as he walked out. “You really have no idea. No damn idea.”
The only thing that superseded the knowledge that Harlow was the captivating woman he’d kissed the night of Nokturnos was the news that she intended to sell the house like it meant nothing. It stuck in his throat like a fish bone, but for the sake of the ritual that was about to begin, he would find a way to swallow it down. There would be time to deal with Harlow after the
Guardian ceremony was over.
The black-robed Elektos formed a circle around him in the living room of the Prime, Hugo Loudreux. As Prime, he was the head of the Elektos, voted into power by the rest of the council. The Elektos as a whole chose and approved the Guardian, who then appointed his own lieutenants. The Guardian’s power was autonomous, his only charge to protect the city and her citizens.
In theory, the Guardian and the Elektos were to work hand in hand. But Loudreux had a reputation for forcing his will. Maybe that had worked with past Guardians, but he’d find Augustine to be harder to bend.
Somewhere else in the house, Augustine’s half sister Blu stood watch, her position as Loudreux’s personal bodyguard still not enough to grant her access to this ritual. He’d often wondered how she could work for Loudreux and now he was about to do the same thing. Almost. The Guardianship allowed him more independence. At least that’s how he planned to move forward.
The furniture had been pushed to the walls, and the rug rolled up to expose the wood floors. Augustine stood in his bare feet, Hugo directly in front of him. Loudreux’s dislike for him was easily readable in the man’s eyes, but finding someone to agree to be Guardian wasn’t always an easy task, so Augustine doubted the cypher fae would argue against him. After all, Hugo knew Augustine had been asked before and he had to have been the one who’d sent Fenton to the house. But how difficult Loudreux made Augustine’s job as Guardian remained to be seen.
Tall, slender and covered with the tiny freckle-like numbers that distinguished cypher fae, Hugo stared into Augustine’s eyes. Just because he and Fenton were both cypher fae didn’t mean they were related, but Augustine wondered if there was a connection. Hugo got things under way by lifting his open palm in Augustine’s direction. “Augustine Robelais, do you come here of your own free will, without coercion or promise of monetary gain?”
It was so odd to hear his last name spoken aloud. It was the one thing other than blood that linked him to his mother. “I do.”
“You agree to protect this city and her people, othernatural and human alike?”
“I do.” His mother should like that part about protecting humans.
“You further agree to abide by the wishes of the Elektos and to uphold the law as we see fit?”
Augustine paused before he answered, causing the faces of the surrounding Elektos to crease with tension. “I’ll take it on a case-by-case basis.”
The assembled Elektos dissolved into discord. Hugo held up his hand. “Silence.” Then he returned to Augustine. “It is your job to do as we say.”
One of the Elektos made a small dismissive noise. Another shook his head like he couldn’t believe Hugo was pushing this issue.
The vibe flowing off the rest of them was very interesting. Augustine decided to test it. “It’s the Guardian’s job to protect the city and the people who live in it from all forms of menace, natural and othernatural.” That creed was drilled into every fae who lived in a Haven city. “Nothing about being the Elektos’s hired stooge.”
One of the Elektos, Salander Meer, a saboteur fae with the ability to decay things at will, spoke up. “I dislike your belief that the position of Guardian is one of stooge, Augustine, and hope that we can persuade you otherwise, but I respect your adherence to the original purpose of the role.” He shifted his gaze to Hugo. “His refusal to answer this question to your satisfaction will not prevent me from voting him in.”
Augustine wanted to smile, but didn’t. It was good to know Salander was on his side. Saboteur fae were much better allies than enemies.
A few of the other Elektos nodded, causing Hugo to grimace. He surveyed the circle of fae. “Are you all in agreement in this?”
Yanna Quinn, ignus fae and granddaughter of one of the most famous Guardians, stepped forward, her flame-red hair done up in elaborate braids. “Loudreux, you know how we feel about this.”
Polite, but restrained. Enough to tell Augustine that Hugo might be Prime, but that didn’t make him popular. How had he been voted into power if he was so disliked? Or perhaps the position had changed him. Augustine vowed not to let that happen to him.
Hugo lifted his hands in slight surrender. “So be it then. His actions are upon your heads.” He stepped back, unhappiness warping his face like a fun-house mirror. “Augustine Robelais, do you accept the Guardianship of the Haven city of New Orleans understanding that it is a position you hold until death and that relinquishing the Guardianship can only be accomplished in death?”
Surprisingly, the tightness in Augustine’s chest relaxed. “I do.” Perhaps from knowing that he was doing something that would make Olivia proud. Or perhaps it was knowing he’d now be free to avenge her brutal murder.
Hugo turned, looking at the Elektos. “All those in favor of Augustine Robelais becoming the next Guardian?”
To a person, they answered, “Aye.”
Hugo dropped his hands. “None opposed?”
Faces twisting strangely, two different Elektos suddenly cleared their throats and muttered, “Nay.” So much for unanimous.
With a deep inhale, Hugo continued. “Let the record show three opposed.”
Augustine knew he was only supposed to speak when spoken to, but screw that. “I thought cyphers could count better than that.”
Hugo slanted his eyes at Augustine. “I oppose, but I also know the life span of most Guardians is short, so why should I stand in the way of this appointment?”
“Good to know.” Augustine gave him the same cold, calculating look right back. “But I’m not most Guardians.”
“We’ll see.” Hugo held out his hand. “Bring me the brand.”
Augustine watched as Yanna walked forward with a metal rod, one end tipped with a fleur-de-lis that looked like it had been edged in silver. She wore gloves to hold it, but he would have known it was iron by the smell of it and the way it lifted the small hairs on the back of his neck.
Hugo pulled on gloves, affirming the rod was indeed iron. “All those who serve bear the mark of their city, Guardians included.”
“Fine.” No way was he letting Hugo at him with that thing. He hooked his thumbs in his front pockets to keep his hands from going around Loudreux’s neck. “I choose Yanna to administer it.”
She looked at him with complete understanding and before Hugo could say anything, responded. “I accept.”
“That’s, that’s not protocol,” Hugo sputtered.
“Does anyone object if Elektos Quinn does the brand,” Augustine asked the assembly.
Fenton answered first. “It’s perfectly acceptable. Go on, Yanna.”
Branding iron in hand, she stepped closer to Augustine. “If you could remove your shirt. The brand goes over the heart.”
He unbuttoned the shirt Lally had pressed for him, his gaze on the branding rod. “Iron so that the mark is permanent.” Fae skin would heal away anything else.
“The silver is what remains.” She nodded, even though it hadn’t been a question. “Are you afraid,” she whispered.
“No.” He dropped his shirt to the floor.
She held the rod in both hands, brand at eye level, and focused on it. Tiny flames engulfed her irises and the brand glowed red hot under her gaze. “I mark you as one who serves, Guardian of the city of New Orleans.” She reversed her grip, aimed the iron at him and pressed it to his chest.
The pain registered a second after the first sizzle of flesh, searing sharp and causing him to tense, but she was already removing the brand. The relief must have shown on his face. She leaned in and spoke softly. “It’ll hurt more once your adrenaline wears off.” Louder she announced, “You now belong to the city of New Orleans. Serve her people in all you do and her people will never forsake you.”
The rest of the Elektos, save Hugo, clapped, and a few of them came up to shake his hand and extend offers of assistance for whatever he might need. A cork popped and glasses were filled.
Yanna, who’d disappeared after her announcement, retu
rned with a small pot of ointment and a bit of gauze. “Keep a little of this salve on it for the next few days.”
He glanced down at his chest. The skin was puffed and red and burned with pain, but very clearly there remained a silver fleur-de-lis imbedded in his skin. “Have you ever done that before?”
She raised a brow as she gently dabbed at the blood, then smoothed some of the ointment over the brand. “Are you saying my technique lacks finesse?”
“Not at all. But I sensed Loudreux wasn’t happy with you doing it.”
She peeked over her shoulder at Hugo, who was talking with the two other Elektos who’d opposed Augustine’s nomination. “Loudreux is often unhappy with how the council goes, but one who’s risen to such a rank through fear and intimidation cannot expect to be universally loved.”
Augustine’s mouth opened slightly at her frank statement. It confirmed everything he’d thought.
“I have said too much.” She smiled wryly, letting him know she’d said exactly what she meant to. “But you are Guardian now and you’ll soon learn more than you ever hoped to know.” Her smile flattened. “I am deeply sorry about Olivia. She was a lovely woman and a great friend to this city and all fae.”
“Thank you.” He picked his shirt up and pulled it on. “When can I question the prisoner?”
“Straight to it then.” She nodded. “I admire that.” She crooked her finger at someone, calling them over.
Fenton joined them. “Congratulations.”
Yanna put her hand on Fenton’s shoulder. “Augustine wants to question the prisoner. Can you take care of getting him outfitted?”
“Of course.” Fenton tapped his fingers against his other hand. “I’m afraid the Guardian’s estate won’t be ready for a few more days. Khell’s widow is—”
“I don’t want to run her out of there. I’m sure I can stay at Olivia’s a while longer.”
“Good.” Fenton nodded. “That’s very understanding of you.” He held out a folded slip of paper. “This is the address of the Guardian’s house if you want to go by and take a look.” He smiled. “Don’t be surprised if it takes you a few tries; the house is very heavily warded and you won’t be tuned into it until you actually take up residence there.”
House of the Rising Sun Page 12
