House of the Rising Sun

by Kristen Painter

  She pulled her own from her pocket as she narrowed her eyes at him. The last time he’d been this chivalrous, they’d been up against a wall in the Quarter, his mouth moments from hers. If he thought that was going to happen again… She exhaled hard. “Why are you being so nice to me? I don’t mean to sound cynical, but what’s up?”

  After unlocking his device, he handed it to her. “Nothing’s up. And you do sound cynical.” His brows knit together. “I’m being nice because I have no reason not to. Today is going to be a tough day for both of us and facing it as a team will make it easier.”

  She opened her mouth but realized she had nothing to say. The idea of the two of them as a team was not something she’d contemplated. Ever. But it wasn’t completely unpalatable. She nodded, then with both LMDs in one hand, tugged a glove off with her teeth. She tucked it under her arm. “This will just take a second.”

  He nodded and looked toward the front door. She took the opportunity to do more than dupe their contact info. With her bare fingers on his LMD, she pushed her way into the GPS circuitry and added a little something extra.

  “People are coming in now.”

  She handed his LMD back. “All done. Thank you for offering your number. That was nice.” She slipped her glove back on and took a deep breath.

  The first couple was done talking to Lally, who looked back at Harlow with sympathetic eyes.

  Augustine cupped her elbow. “We should go into the parlor.”

  Even his touch reminded her of that night, the way he’d gotten her out of the crowd when she’d started to freak out. She let him guide her until she faced the baby grand piano, the sight of her mother’s urn erasing all other thoughts. The top of the piano had been covered with a colorful fringed shawl and on top of that was another large portrait of Olivia, flanked by enormous sprays of spring-hued flowers. At the side of the portrait was a milky glass urn with all the colors of the rainbow swirled through it.

  Her mother was in there. The thought struck her with such clarity that she stopped as if rooted to the spot. “It’s so… final. And bright.”

  Augustine stopped beside her. “In that regard, it’s very Olivia.”

  Harlow nodded. “Yes, that much I know about her.” The whole room was done up in flowers and greenery and the seating had been rearranged to allow more space around the piano. “She probably would have loved this.”

  Augustine smiled sadly. “That’s a safe bet. According to Lally, she planned all of this, right down to the urn.”

  Harlow shook her head, almost amused by it all. “She always had a plan, didn’t she?”

  The couple that had been at the door entered the room and she could hear more people coming in behind them. Her heartbeat kicked up a notch as the panic of being around so many people in this situation settled over her.

  As if sensing her distress, Augustine put his hand on the small of her back and directed her to a nearby chair, then he set off to face the fray. She sat there, watching him steer people away from her or into the dining room for food and a new realization began to take the place of the panic.

  This place and these people, Augustine and Lally, weren’t so bad after all. They’d loved her mother and her mother had loved them. Olivia had loved this city, too, despite its wear around the edges and unrepentantly shady past. Enough so that she’d given up Hollywood and made a home here.

  A home Olivia had mistakenly thought she could persuade Harlow to live in while she attended Tulane. Instead, Harlow had run in the other direction and gone to MIT. Olivia’s bitter disappointment had resulted in package after package of New Orleans–themed goodies.

  A little half smile curved her mouth as she remembered the King cakes. Olivia had kept sending them every Mardi Gras season, even after Harlow had graduated. She’d never admitted it to her mother, but they were one of her deepest guilty pleasures.

  Maybe the time had come for Harlow to make a new plan of her own. Two years of jail time—maybe less for good behavior—and she’d be free to make a new start. Half of this house was hers and that was ten times more space than she had in her cramped apartment. And with Augustine and Lally here, she wouldn’t have to worry the house wasn’t being taken care of while she was incarcerated.

  She looked over at the photo of her mother. Olivia was smiling like she knew what Harlow was going to do. Maybe she did. Maybe that’s what the fortune-teller had been talking about when she’d said a parent was going to put her in danger and she’d see an enemy in a new light. Living here would definitely qualify as dangerous. She’d be outside of her comfort zone, forced to interact with living breathing people, not just avatars and screen names.

  And if Augustine was the enemy, then yes, she was certainly seeing him in a new light. He wore the role of Guardian well. Almost as well as that suit.

  With a deep breath, Harlow stood and went to join him. If she was going to live here, she might as well try to figure out what else her mother had been so in love with.

  When the black-gloved hand reached out from beside him to welcome someone, Augustine almost jerked back in shock. Instead, he met Harlow’s amber gaze and raised his brows in question. She gave him a shrug that seemed resigned but not unhappy. More like she was prepared to deal with whatever the day held. She stayed with him for a while, eventually leaving his side to show some new people where the food was set up in the dining room.

  A few minutes later, Lally came in and pulled him aside. “What did you do to that child?”

  “Who? Harlow?” Now what?

  “Yes. She came into the kitchen and thanked me for everything I’ve done for her mama and for being such a good friend to her and for all the work I’d put into making this day everything Miss Olivia wanted it to be. Made me downright weepy.” She pursed her lips. “You throw some kind of fae spell over her?”

  “No, I swear.” He held his hands up to show they were empty. “She does seem like she’s had a change of heart, though.” It gave him hope for… something he wasn’t ready to put a name to yet.

  Lally waggled her head. “Maybe all this death has given her a little come-to-Jesus moment and she’s realized life’s too short to be angry over what you can’t change.”

  “Let’s hope you’re right.” He glanced over Lally’s brown curls. “Speaking of what you can’t change…”

  His half brother, Mortalis, walked through the archway leading into the great room. At his side was the comarré Chrysabelle, the woman Augustine had escorted to the fae plane and the reason he’d been forced to run from the Elektos.

  Lally turned to look in the same direction. “Be kind, Augustine. Your brother’s here to pay his respects, not cause you more grief.”

  “Let’s hope you’re right.” He walked toward the other fae. “Mortalis. Chrysabelle.”

  The comarré spoke first as she embraced him in a quick hug. “I’m deeply sorry for your loss. Olivia was a truly amazing woman and I feel honored I was able to know her in the small way I did.”

  “Thank you.” He looked at Mortalis. “Are you here because she wanted to come or are you here out of choice?”

  “Choice. But also to accompany Chrysabelle.” Mortalis shifted uncomfortably and made Augustine question how much he’d really wanted to come. “I know what Olivia meant to you and to the city. She was a good woman. Damn shame.” Chrysabelle nudged him gently with her elbow. “Also, I’m… proud of you for taking the Guardianship.”

  Lost for words, Augustine stared at the fae across from him. Something was in the air today. They shared a father, but that’s where the connection ended. There wasn’t enough relationship between them to consider it a relationship. It was the same between Augustine and Blu, although she didn’t seem to have much use for Mortalis, either, and they were full-blooded siblings.

  “Say thank you, Augustine,” Chrysabelle said quietly.

  He nodded at his brother. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

  Mortalis returned the nod. “I know it
wasn’t under the best circumstances.”

  “That’s for sure.”

  Mortalis, dressed in full fae leathers as per his usual, rested his hand on the dagger hilt protruding from his belt. “If you need me for anything, you know where to find me.”

  “That’s unexpected. But appreciated.” An offer of help? There was no more shock left in Augustine’s system. He smiled at Chrysabelle. “I have a feeling you played a big part in this.”

  “A little.” She smiled sadly. “I really did want to pay my respects.”

  “How did everything turn out for you after…” There were too many ears here for him to mention the Claustrum. “Our adventure?”

  “Very well.”

  He glanced down at her flat belly. “And the baby?”

  “With his father.”

  “Malcolm, right?”

  She nodded. “Yes, and Malcolm and I are now married.”

  Augustine raised his brows. “That’s pretty unusual for a vampire.”

  “So is having a kid,” Mortalis added.

  Chrysabelle laughed. “Oh, Uncle Morty, you love babysitting little Rafe.”

  “This might officially go down as the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had,” Augustine said with a laugh. “Babysitting? Really?”

  Chrysabelle patted Mortalis’s shoulder. “He needs the practice.”

  Mortalis smiled suddenly. “Nyssa and I are about to have one of our own.”

  The smile was almost as shocking as the news, but Augustine did his best not to overreact. “Does this have anything to do with your new attitude toward me?”

  Mortalis lifted one shoulder. “Maybe.”

  “Having a child changes everything,” Chrysabelle added.

  Apparently. “Rafe, huh?”

  “Raphael,” she said. “But Rafe suits him. He seems to know he’s the only vampire-comarré hybrid in existence. He’s… quite a handful at times.”

  Mortalis snorted. “He’s exactly what Malcolm deserves.”

  “Maybe I’ll get to meet the little terror someday. Like when my nephew is born.” Augustine reached out and shook his brother’s hand. “I really appreciate you coming. Both of you. I need to talk to some more of the guests but please don’t leave without saying goodbye.”

  “We won’t,” Chrysabelle assured him. She gave him another hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  “Is Blu here?” Mortalis asked as they parted.

  “Not yet, but I’m sure Loudreux will come, so it’s only a matter of time.” He’d kind of expected Loudreux to be the first to arrive since he was Prime, but so far he’d yet to show. If Loudreux didn’t come, his half sister Blu most likely wouldn’t be allowed to, either, unless she’d been given the day off.

  The crowd in the house was almost overwhelming. He looked around for Harlow, but she wasn’t anywhere he could see. He pushed through the crowd, finally finding her standing alone near the stairs. The house was too crowded to pick out her pulse, but she almost looked like she was cowering. “You okay?”

  She straightened a bit and did a little shrug/nod thing that did nothing to reassure him. “There’s a lot of people here.”

  “And there’s a lot more to come.” He grabbed a glass of water from a passing server and put it in her hands.

  She took a sip. “That fae you were talking to looked a lot like you. Especially now that your horns are coming back in.”

  He looked toward where he’d been standing. She must have seen him with Mortalis. “He’s my half brother.”

  “And the blonde with the crazy gold tattoos?”

  Was that a hint of jealousy in Harlow’s amber eyes? More like his own delusions. “Her name’s Chrysabelle. She’s a comarré.”

  “She’s very pretty.”

  “She’s very married.” He let that sink in, casually adding, “To a vampire,” without much thought.

  Harlow’s face went pale. “Why would anyone marry one of those monsters?” Horror clouded her eyes. “They killed my mother.”

  Damn it, that had not been the right thing to say. “Not that kind of vampire.”

  She glared at him. “There are other kinds? As in the kind that don’t kill people?”

  “It’s complicated.” Also not the best answer he’d ever given.

  She set the water on the hall table and wrapped her arms around herself, the diamonds at her wrist twinkling before they slid beneath one glove. “What isn’t complicated in this place? I thought I could do this. I don’t know.”

  She was retreating fast and he wasn’t sure how to stop it. “It’s okay, it really is. You can do this. I’m here for you, Harlow.” He tapped his chest. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”

  Her gaze went right through him. “People keep coming in.”

  He looked toward the door. Fenton was entering with a few people behind him. One of them was Evander. That was interesting. And unexpected, but perhaps the wizard was attempting to stay in the fae’s good graces. Augustine returned his attention to Harlow. “I’ll handle it. Why don’t you take a break? Go up to your room for a little bit and get some peace.”

  She nodded, but something in her eyes said she was already a million miles away.

  Chapter Twenty

  Miss Harlow? It’s time.”

  “Thank you, Lally.” Harlow sat on the edge of the bed. She’d waited in her room until the last possible second. Now, judging by the quiet that had settled in, the throng of people who’d come to her mother’s memorial had moved outside to follow the horse and buggy to the cemetery.

  The break from the crowd had been a good thing and although trepidation still filled her, she wasn’t going to miss this last chance to see her mother off. She slipped shoes on—her own flats this time for the walk to the cemetery—and headed down the steps to find Augustine.

  Wearing an overcoat now, he stood in the foyer. She’d expected there to be some people still inside, but the space was wonderfully empty. He’d seen her near meltdown and hadn’t judged her. In fact, he’d been kind and understanding. Amazing how a little shared emotion had changed things between them. He smiled when he saw her. “Feel better?”

  She nodded. “Where did everyone go?”

  “Some are outside still talking, but the rest went home. I know the crowd overwhelmed you, but I can’t remember the last time so many people showed up to a memorial. There must have been over five hundred people through here. Livie would have loved it.”

  Harlow twisted her toe into the floor. “She would have, I’m sure. I, on the other hand, almost needed medicating.”

  “You did fine. Your mother liked her privacy, too, you know. You’re probably more like her than you realize.”

  “I doubt that.”

  He took a coat off the hall rack and held it out to her. “It’s turned a little cool now that the sun’s going down. Even with your long sleeves, you’ll want this.”

  She slid her arms into the coat. Her mother’s perfume clung to it. “It is nice that so many people wanted to see her off. You said a lot of those people went home?”

  “Livie wanted the interment to be private, so from here out it’s really just us.”

  “You, me and Lally?”

  He nodded. “And a few of her close friends and neighbors. Maybe twenty people, tops.”

  “Okay.” She relaxed, exhaling softly.

  “Easier to handle.”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I’m guessing you’ve never seen or been part of a jazz funeral before, but it’s pretty simple. We follow the buggy while the band plays some hymns, then after the interment, they’ll play something happy as they leave and that’s about it. Kind of the abbreviated version, but that’s what Livie wanted.”

  “How far of a walk is it?”

  “Couple of blocks. Not far from the Guardian’s house, actually. You ready?”

  She nodded, feeling slightly ill at ease again. She’d gone from thinking there was no way she could ever live here to thinking there was definitely a way
if she had Augustine around to explain things. But she’d assumed that he’d be staying here, forgetting that he’d eventually move into the Guardian’s house, taking Lally with him. Very soon, Harlow would be forced to head home to face the consequences of her hacking before she could come back here. If that was still what she wanted in two years. Actually, it might be all she had left after time served. Augustine would still look after the house, wouldn’t he, seeing as it was half his?

  Mind rushing with new concerns, she walked with him to the door and down the steps. The small group of people had left a space between them and the buggy. Lally was already there waiting. She held a hand out as if to say, “Right here, next to me.”

  Harlow took the spot, then Augustine fell into place beside her. The buggy driver nodded to the band in front and they began to play what sounded like “Nearer My God to Thee” and they were off, slowly.

  Her mother’s urn sat strapped onto some sort of flat platform at the back of the buggy and high enough that it could be seen. The multicolored glass urn almost glowed with the rays of the setting sun glinting off it. Augustine was right. Olivia would have loved this. It almost felt like she was there in some way.

  When they arrived at the cemetery, two police officers stood at the gates, nodding as the small party of mourners went in. They assembled around a crypt where a man with a Layman Brothers Funeral Home badge stood waiting in a black suit. He took the urn from the buggy driver, said a few words, then went into the crypt. When he came back out, he thanked everyone for coming.

  The band assembled behind them broke into “When the Saints Come Marching In.” The mourners began to file out, but neither Lally nor Augustine moved, so Harlow stayed right where she was.

  As distance muted the music, Augustine looked at her. “You want to go in? You can.”

  “Into the crypt?”

  Lally unpinned the red carnation from her coat. “It’s all right, child. Ain’t no boogeyman in there.” She walked up the steps and into the crypt, returning a minute later without the carnation.