House of the Rising Sun

by Kristen Painter

  Evander looked askance at Augustine. “It’s traditional to share a drink at this first meeting. It shows trust, among other things. I’ll assume you weren’t informed of that and give you the opportunity to answer again.”

  The fae held up his hands. “You’re right, I wasn’t informed, but there’s no one to blame for that. We’ve just been preoccupied with these deaths and getting our affairs in order. I’m sure you can understand the chaos our house has been in.” He nodded to Giselle. “I’d be happy to share a drink with you and your father.”

  She smiled sweetly, because he’d just stepped in it again. “I’ll be right back.” She strode away while her father informed Augustine that the only person he needed to share a drink with was the coven leader, not his daughter.

  She came back with three glasses anyway, the stems laced between her fingers, the neck of the bottle firmly in her other hand. “Daddy?” She held out the bottle to him. “Would you care to open?”

  It was a chance for him to show off, a little gift from her and something that would please him.

  As predicted, he smiled and took the bottle. Augustine shifted, his body tense. He was either ready to leave or worried that her father was slightly unhinged. Evander was perfectly sane, just a stickler for diplomacy, and having Augustine be unsure of Evander could work to her advantage, especially if she offered herself as a go-between.

  Bottle stripped of its foil seal, Evander spoke the opening spell and the cork wriggled free of its own accord.

  Augustine clapped. “That’s a handy trick.”

  Giselle almost laughed, but held back. The fae had already insulted her father enough.

  Evander chucked the cork into the trash with more force than necessary. “It’s not a trick, Mr. Robelais. We are wizards and witches, not magicians.”

  Proud that her father had at least stood up for them on that front, Giselle took the bottle from him and poured a few ounces into each glass. What a lucky, lucky turn of events that she’d gotten to be here for this.

  Augustine let out a frustrated sigh as he widened his stance into something a little more defensive. “I didn’t mean to imply anything by my wording. I’m not a diplomat. I’m not even a decent fae ambassador. In fact, I’m barely a member of fae society. Up until Olivia was killed, I had refused the Guardianship on more than one occasion.”

  He took a deep breath. “I am here because I was told it was the right thing to do. To extend you the courtesy of meeting me on your own ground. I get that the treaty between our people is important, but you’re going to have to cut me some slack. All I care about right now is getting these monsters out of our city and protecting the people that live here—all of them, witch, fae, varcolai or human—so if I don’t use the proper words or step left when I should step right, get over it. It’s not what I’m about.”

  A glass of wine in each hand, Giselle popped her jaw to one side and waited for Mount Evander to explode. His eyes were bulging out of his head a tad, a sure sign her father was about to blow.

  Evander slowly closed his mouth, reached out and took one of the glasses from Giselle. He lifted it. “The Elektos are lucky to have you. Forgive me for placing such importance on the trivial. If I can help you in any way with eliminating these vampires, I am happy to do it.”

  Looking relieved, Augustine took the second glass from Giselle and clinked it against Evander’s. “Much obliged.”

  Then the two men drank, leaving her out of the toast and feeling very much like she’d somehow arrived late to the very party she’d planned.

  Augustine set his glass down after the first sip. “There is something I’d like to talk to you about.” He cleared his throat. “Alone.”

  Evander waved a hand at Giselle. “Close the door on your way out, my dear.”

  Dumbstruck with anger and humiliation, she did as her father asked. She stood in the hall for a moment, staring at the closed door. If the rest of the coven could see how her father had welcomed this fae into his bosom as if the Guardian were the new salvation of the city, they would charge him with treason. Well, some of them anyway. And right now, Evander was in there probably giving away the last scrap of freedom the witches had. What the hell was her father thinking? What new regulation would the fae heap on them now? There wasn’t much left.

  She stormed out of the house, not caring if the slamming door disrupted her father’s precious meeting.

  The only thoughts that brought her comfort were knowing he would not be coven leader forever and fantasizing about that day.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Augustine had no idea if Evander could be trusted or not. Giselle couldn’t, that was plain, but a child didn’t always follow in a parent’s footsteps. Augustine and his own mother were proof that the apple sometimes fell very far from the tree, but there was only one way to find out. He tugged the small silver cross from his pocket and tossed it onto Evander’s desk. It landed with a tinny clink. “What can you tell me about that?”

  Evander picked it up and flipped it over, then looked at Augustine. “I assume this is of some import or you wouldn’t have wanted to discuss this alone.”

  “It’s very important.”

  He turned it in his fingers, finally bringing it to his nose. “Smells of dark magic and ash.”

  Information Augustine already knew. “Elaborate on the magic part.”

  Evander set the cross down to take another sip of his wine. “The smell of the magic tells me whatever spell was attached to it has been used up. There’s no way to tell what the spell was now.” He swirled the wine in his glass. “No vampire could tolerate this symbol, but to also cast this piece in silver…” He shrugged. “Combine that with the scent of ash and the kind of magic involved and I’m guessing this was a murder weapon. Or it at least played some part in the death of a vampire, yes?”

  “It played some part, but I can’t comment more than that.” Augustine wasn’t about to reveal that it might also be connected to whoever was behind letting the vampires into the city. There was every chance Evander was connected to that. No reason to give away evidence the wizard might use to protect himself. But he’d confirm what Evander had already figured out.

  Evander returned his glass to the desk. “Then what can I help you with?”

  “Can you tell me who created that spell?”

  Again, he shrugged. “In theory, each witch’s magic has a signature, but identifying it isn’t so easy. Can you look at a fingerprint and tell who it belongs to? Not without some time and effort. It’s the same thing with magic.”

  “But it is possible.”

  He passed a hand through the air. “In theory.”

  Augustine shook his head and sat back. “I need a different answer.”

  “Can you leave the cross with me? I could run some tests on it, see if I can narrow things down.”

  “No.”

  Evander put a finger on the cross and pushed it back toward Augustine. “So someone murdered a vampire. I’m not sure I understand your eagerness to track this person down. Isn’t death your endgame for the vampires in the city? Or were you going to shuttle them to the parish line and see them safely on their way?”

  Death was his endgame for whoever was allowing these leeches into the city. Augustine snagged the cross and tucked it into his pocket. “It’s more complicated than that.”

  “It always is. I’m sorry I can’t do more.”

  There had to be another way. “Actually, you can. Give me a list of your people who practice this kind of magic.”

  Evander touched his chest. “Mr. Robelais, none of the members of my coven practice any form of the dark arts. It’s forbidden by the treaty.”

  Augustine’s patience was gone. He stood and leaned over Evander’s desk. “All that tells me is your daughter isn’t the only liar in the family.”

  Evander snorted, indignant. “I will not be spoken to this way.”

  “Lie to me, hamper any aspect of my investigation, do one tiny thing to ai
d the person responsible for these leeches and I’ll speak to you any damn way I please.”

  Evander hauled his bulk to his feet. “You’re putting the treaty on very shaky ground, son.”

  The urge to press a blade against the wizard’s neck made Augustine’s fingers itch. Instead, he slammed his fist onto the desk, making the mess covering it jump. Evander’s flinching was a bonus. “You think I care about that treaty? That benefits you and your coven, not my people. That treaty allows you to stay here. If you’re not interested in maintaining it, I’d be happy to let the Elektos know the coven is moving out.”

  Evander huffed, suddenly out of words.

  Augustine straightened. “I thought so.” He pointed at the wizard. “Until you provide me with a list of witches most likely to be responsible for that dark magic, every one of your coven members will be considered a suspect.” He headed for the door. “You have twenty-four hours to deliver that list or I’m going to start revoking licenses.”

  He paused at the door. “Giselle’s first.”

  Dawn was an hour off, but Augustine sat on the second level of the parking garage across from the Hotel St. Helene, smoking a nequam cigarette and waiting for the rest of his lieutenants. He’d left the house earlier than necessary, but he was eager to get this raid under way. Granted, capturing Olivia’s killer was just the first step in finding whoever was responsible for bringing the vampires into the city, but it might also make things a little easier between him and Harlow. She’d come home last night still in a mood and had retreated to her room without a word to him or Lally. Just stomped up the steps and slammed her door. He got it, he really did, but he couldn’t erase the kiss they’d shared or do anything to change Livie’s will.

  Nor would he go against what Olivia had been trying to accomplish. Sooner or later, Harlow would calm down. He hoped.

  He peered through the louvered window, watching the street below and the hotel’s entrance. The Quarter was grumbling awake around him, but the parking garage was still quiet.

  Except for footsteps.

  He turned. Dulcinea and Beatrice headed toward him. Dulcinea had a to-go cup in each hand. She held one up and smiled. “Coffee, boss?”

  He ground out the cigarette and walked forward to take the coffee from her. “You’re a mind reader.”

  “Fortune-teller,” she corrected him. “And I knew we’d have bad fortune if you didn’t have your morning brew.”

  He took a sip, then smiled. “How are you doing, Beatrice?” As far as he knew, she’d never been on the front lines like this before.

  Her face was serious. “I’m armed and ready to kill some vamps.” She patted the bolt stick hanging from her belt. “This was Khell’s. Thought it might come in handy.”

  “You know how to use that?”

  “My father was a Claustrum warden.” She gave him a sly look as she opened her palm and produced a fireball. “And if that fails, I’ll toast a few.”

  “All right then.” More footsteps brought the other three lieutenants. Dreich and Sydra were in front with the hulking Cy bringing up the rear. Augustine said a silent prayer that the ethos fae had learned to forgive and forget. He’d already spoken to Beatrice about handling Cy if it came to that since she said she’d gotten to know him through Khell.

  “Here comes the rest of our crew.” He downed a little more caffeine, then set his cup on a nearby hood.

  Beatrice took a few steps toward the incoming group. Their expressions warmed as they saw her. Dreich gave her a hug and Cy patted her on the back with his meaty paw. The tension that had been as thick as the nequam smoke vanished.

  He waited until the small talk passed, then began. “Thank you for coming. I understand Fenton filled you in, but if you have any questions, feel free to ask me.”

  Cy rolled his thick shoulders, his voice low and gravelly. “Just tell us where you want us, boss.” Dreich nodded, looking committed and ready to get the job done. Sydra patted the slim, folded crossbow hanging from her hip.

  Augustine took Cy’s answer to mean the big man wasn’t holding the past against him. Excellent. Whatever Fenton had said had done the job. Augustine relaxed a little. His team seemed like a good group. One he’d extend some trust to until given a reason not to. “Dulcinea, what did you find out?”

  “I talked to the guy I know who works on the housekeeping staff here. The joint is small, only sixteen rooms and three floors, so he knew right away who I was looking for. The third floor holds two big suites and they’ve been rented out for the last three weeks. He’s not sure how many are in the group, but he thinks eight, maybe as many as twelve.”

  “That’s since the night at Olivia’s?” He’d killed at least four that night.

  “Yes.”

  “Decent odds,” Augustine said. “What about the hours they keep?”

  “No real pattern. They come and go in groups, but someone’s always on the floor, standing guard by the elevator.”

  Cy spoke up. “They’re taking shifts to guard the sleepers.”

  Augustine nodded. “I agree. They know how vulnerable they are when they’re in daysleep—”

  “Like they’re dead,” Sydra interjected.

  “Easy to kill like that,” Dreich added. “Real easy. And just because they’re in New Orleans doesn’t mean they can go without it.”

  Augustine thought for a moment. “We just have to take the guard down without rousing the others. They must have some kind of alarm system in place.”

  Dulcinea rummaged in the bag hanging off her shoulder. “I scored two master keys so we can get into those suites quietly.”

  “Nicely done.” Sydra smiled. “How’d you manage that?”

  Dulcinea wiggled her fingers. “Don’t ask, don’t tell.” She grinned. “I also got this.” She pulled out a black short-sleeved collared shirt and held it up. The breast was embroidered with the hotel’s name, the word staff underneath.

  Augustine raised his brows. The shirt looked like a kid’s large. “Well, we’re not putting Cy in that.”

  “I’ll do it.” Beatrice reached for the shirt.

  Augustine held up a hand. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, but whoever wears this is going to be the first person in. They’re going to have to kill the guard without waking the others. I’m not sure you have the experience for that.”

  Sydra held her hand out. “Give it to me.”

  Augustine raised a brow. “What about your crossbow? That’s not standard company issue.”

  She grinned. “I won’t give the vamps time for questions.”

  Augustine nodded. “All right then. Sydra, you take the elevator up. Beatrice, you and Cy take the courtyard in back, make sure we have no escapees. Dreich will stay here to watch the front of the building and Dulcinea will come with me up the stairs. As soon as the guard is subdued, she and Sydra can take one suite and I’ll take the other.” He held up a hand. “Remember, we need the leader alive.”

  “How will we know him?” Dreich asked.

  “He’s got a scar on his left side.” Augustine drew his finger across his cheek to illustrate. “If he’s not there, we need at least one alive for questioning. Got it?”

  “Got it,” they answered.

  He nodded at Beatrice. “You and Cy have five minutes to get into position. Then the rest of us are moving.”

  As Cy and Beatrice hustled off, Augustine went back to the louvered window to watch their progress. Behind him, Sydra changed into the uniform shirt so he kept his eyes on the street below. Already the activity level in the Quarter had picked up.

  Dreich came to stand beside him. “Thank you for giving Beatrice a shot at this. She really needed something to do.”

  “I didn’t give her the job out of pity, I did it because I need people around me I can trust.” Augustine watched Cy and Beatrice cross the street at the corner.

  “Agreed. I’m glad you feel like you can trust the rest of us. I’m assuming someone vouched for us?”

  Augustin
e looked at Dreich, trying to determine if there was something deeper behind his question. “Fenton told me you, Cy and Sydra were the best of Khell’s lieutenants and that you were loyal. I trust him, so that’s how you ended up here.”

  Curiosity twisted Dreich’s face. “You think one of the other lieutenants is involved in this vampire thing?”

  Dreich was Khell’s cousin, so he had probably been privy to whatever Khell had known. Maybe he had some insight to offer. “Do you think it’s possible? Anyone you’d suspect?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s a pretty ballsy move. One there’s no coming back from.”

  “Agreed.” Augustine pushed a little more. “Which one of the remaining lieutenants fits that description best?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t want to put anyone’s neck on the chopping block, man. I’m not pointing fingers without proof. It could be one of the Elektos for all I know.”

  Augustine cocked his brow. “Are you saying you think that?”

  Dreich blew out a long, slow breath like he was choosing his words. “I’m saying I wouldn’t rule it out.”

  “If you had to pick one, who would it be?”

  “I want to find Khell’s killer just as much as you do, but these are hard questions you’re asking me to answer.” Dreich rubbed the back of his neck. “This is not a game I want to play. There are members of the Elektos who don’t follow anyone’s rules but their own.”

  Augustine didn’t need to hear Loudreux’s name to guess that’s who Dreich was referring to, but he still wanted it confirmed. Maybe Dreich would be willing to talk with less company. He gave Sydra the sign to go. “Wait outside until Dulce and I get there.”

  “Will do.” She gave a little salute and jogged off.

  He looked at Dreich again. “There are no secrets between Dulcinea and me. Who in the Elektos do you think could be involved? If you want to help find Khell’s killer, this is your chance. Because if I have to do it on my own and I find out you knew something and didn’t step up, it will not go easy for you. Understand?”

  Dreich bristled, wavering slightly in the way of a wysper. “You think I would hold back? I loved Khell like a brother. How dare you accuse me of—”