Pirate's Alley

by Suzanne Johnson

  Zrakovi recovered with some difficulty if his sudden coughing fit was any indication. “Your highness, you were with Captain Lafitte at the time of the fire?”

  Christof nodded. “Quite by accident, of course. I had decided to visit the city to see if I could be of help in my official capacity as the Winter Prince.” He shook his head. “Such suffering in a place unaccustomed to these types of weather patterns. I’m happy to report that I should be able to relieve the problem and move this weather system away shortly.”

  “That’s … wonderful news, I’m sure.” Confusion wafted off Zrakovi’s aura like toxic smoke. I fingered the amulet containing my little traveling mojo bag to control the antlike tickle as it washed across my skin from clear across the room. He was desperate to seize control of the meeting again. “And you ran into Captain Lafitte?”

  Christof laughed, and it transformed his face into something playful and handsome instead of its usual hard planes. Of course, who knew if it was real or illusion?

  “As you know, the fae are quite fond of carnivals and circuses and carousels, and I had heard of the famed Carousel Bar.” He ducked his head and raised his shoulders to accompany his winsome little oh-aren’t-I-a-silly-faery smile. “When I arrived to see it, there sat Captain Lafitte and Mr. Capote. They graciously invited me to join them. Ms. Jaco arrived some time later, and I asked that she keep my presence quiet.”

  Mace Banyan made a rude, scoffing noise. “Why would you care?”

  Another friendly gosh-darn shrug from Christof. “Ah, our monarch, Her Highness Queen Sabine, does not approve of her people, especially the princes and princesses of Faery, consorting in the human world.” He bowed his head and turned toward the woman in question, who looked like an ancient, slutty version of Ginger from the Gilligan’s Island reruns. “Your highness, I beg your forgiveness, but I felt it unfair to see an innocent man wrongly accused.”

  Sabine held out her hand, and he kissed her oversize ring. I thought I might barf. “We shall speak of this later, Christof,” she said in her husky, dry, cornsilk-rustling, creepy voice.

  Jean stood up. “I believe this assembly owes Jean Lafitte an apology for pursuing what is clearly a personal vendetta on the part of Monsieur Banyan. I am most disappointed, Monsieur Zrakovi, that you should have been forced to behave thusly.”

  Oh, brother. Only Jean could pull a monstrous scam on the entire Interspecies Council and then demand an apology because they’d suspected him.

  Of course, he got it. Zrakovi had no recourse but to apologize even though frown lines rutted his face. The shifter standing behind him looked as if he didn’t know whether to laugh or weep. I was with Alex on that one.

  They might yet catch Jean Lafitte doing something worthy of tossing him off the council or into a prison cell, but it would not be today.

  I was a happy camper, at least for a few seconds.

  Zrakovi flipped one folder closed in front of him, slid it aside, and opened another. I shot a sidelong glance at Rand. Time for act two.

  “Now, I fear, we must address a rather sensitive issue—”

  “Elder Zrakovi, might I say something? I promise to keep it brief, but it’s important.” Rand stood up, my annoying Russian snow prince with his gleaming blond hair and pale blue sweater and winter-white trousers, his eyes an impossibly rich shade of blue, his arrogance and petulance often heavy enough to sink a ship. I hoped he could keep it afloat, at least long enough to save Eugenie a lot of misery.

  From across the room, I sensed Zrakovi’s blood pressure rising. The man was going to have a stroke if this meeting didn’t end soon. “Can’t it wait, Mr. Randolph?”

  “Please, I promise to keep it short—it’s just a quick thank-you, really, and you’re the one I wish to thank.”

  Elder Z’s blood pressure ticked up another few notches, and he developed a slight twitch in his left eye. “Oh, very well.”

  Behind him, Alex wasn’t looking at Rand. He was still looking at me, eyes narrowed. I gave him what I hoped was an innocent shrug.

  “I am so honored to be a part of this group that I wanted to share some happy news,” Rand said, oozing sincerity so thick I was glad I had on boots with a decent heel. “In about six months, I will become a father for the first time. It’s a cause for celebration, although I regret to say my son’s mother is only a human and was certainly not the person I’d hoped would bear my first child, which would be my mate, Dru, the New Orleans sentinel.”

  I glared at Rand. That long, run-on speech was so not part of the script, and so help me if he as much as thought my name again I would create a potion to encase him in ice until hell froze over.

  “However,” he continued, ignoring me, “I want to publicly thank Elder Zrakovi—I have no doubt the permanent First Elder position will be yours very soon—for your unwavering support and personal assurance that no harm will befall my son because of any political differences.”

  The silence swelled to fill the room. Rand’s performance was Oscar-worthy. “Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you for that personal promise to protect my child. It only strengthens our alliance between wizards and elves, and proves what a man of character you are.”

  Rand sat down. What could Zrakovi do? We’d backed him into a very tight, very public corner. “You’re welcome, of course,” he mumbled, then cleared his throat. “A child’s impending arrival is always a joyous thing.”

  Not a note of joy sat on his face or rang in his voice. I’d encountered cheerier demeanors at funerals.

  I didn’t dare look at Alex. Instead, I watched my uncle. Lennox St. Simon had sat quietly throughout the proceedings. Several times, he’d cocked his head and settled a very sharp, Gerry-like gaze on whoever happened to be talking, including me. Now he watched Zrakovi with a slight smile curving his mouth at the edges and a glint in his eyes. He didn’t know to shield his feelings when his part-elven niece was lurking about, apparently, so I knew he was gleeful and greedy and enjoyed his superior’s discomfort. He wanted Zrakovi to fail. Uncle Lennox wore the hunger of an ambitious man who sensed a weakness in his rival.

  Fingering my amulet again, I sought to lessen the emotional drag of both wizards. While Zrakovi physically wrapped up the meeting, his mind was rapidly morphing from frantic annoyance to outright fury. He ended with an announcement that the council would reconvene in January unless the wizarding body elected a permanent First Elder before then or one of the outstanding warrants was filled.

  His fury wrapped around me despite my shielding. He’d been blindsided. He’d been outplayed.

  And he didn’t like it.

  My part of Plan Eugenie was about to begin; I could only hope Rand backed me up, or Eugenie and I would both be taking flight.

  My first option, however, was leaving without any close encounters of the Elder kind. I looped my arm through Truman Capote’s and talked about utter nonsense as we edged our way toward the door laden with our bags and notebooks and coats. We’d made it almost as far as the entrance to the hallway when I felt a tug on my arm and looked up to see Alex.

  Granite statues had more animation in their faces. “Willem wants to talk to you.”

  I gave him a sunny smile. “Sure. A lot of surprises today, weren’t there?”

  “Surprises. That’s one way to put it.” He looked down at me, his gaze roving over my face. I thought a tiny doubt flickered, as if he wasn’t sure what I did and didn’t know. That was purely a guess, however. Alex knew how to shut me out, and he was shielding his emotions like they were gold nuggets within Fort Knox.

  I waved good-bye to Truman and turned to Alex. My first impulse was to begin making excuses, to assure him I’d gone to Eugenie’s last night but hadn’t been able to go through with it. But it was heading down a deep well of lies that might eventually drown me.

  “DJ, I don’t want to know what happened.” Alex at least had the decency to drop his voice. “I’m not going to ask and you’re not going to tell me.”

  I caught
the edge of anger in his voice; we both knew I’d gone around him, but I’d done it for his sake as well as Eugenie’s. “That’s best. I don’t want you stuck in the middle.”

  “And yet here I am, in the middle.”

  I wanted to come clean, to try to explain, to say whatever it would take to smooth things over between us. But those words would be lies, too, because I’d done what I thought was right. Still, his anger and hurt leaked through those formidable mental barriers of his, and they broke my heart.

  What did you do that was so wrong? A little, nagging inner voice—my own, not Rand’s—posed that timid question. Why should you have to lie to make him love you, or pretend to be what you’re not, or sneak around to do what you think is right so that he won’t be mad at you? Why can’t he just love who you are?

  Why can’t you love who you are?

  I usually ignored my own still, small voice, but the inner DJ had hit me hard with those last two questions. I’d done the right thing. I shouldn’t have to beg or lie or sneak around in the hope I could make Alex love me more and, maybe, eventually accept me or respect me.

  You shall not pass. Another figurative line in the sand across the chasm at Khazad-dûm or, in this case, Uptown New Orleans. I wouldn’t apologize for what I’d done, but I wasn’t ready for an ultimatum either. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” I whispered.

  His eyes softened and he pulled me into a hug. I held on to him with both arms, as if by holding on, I could prevent the chasm between us from growing any wider. “It can’t be easy, can it?” His voice was soft enough that the others still milling around couldn’t hear him. “Where do we go from here?”

  Where we went from here was that I wouldn’t put him in the position of having to lie for me. I pulled back and swiped a couple of stray tears off my cheeks. “I’m going to talk to Zrakovi, tell him the truth, and see what happens.”

  Alex dropped his voice lower still. “Don’t push him too hard. He’s stressed out over your uncle as well as all the other shit going on. Lennox is ambitious. You want me to stay with you?”

  I shook my head. “I need to do this alone. I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

  He took a reluctant step back and gave me a smile before turning and disappearing down the hallway. Everyone else had gone except Rand and Zrakovi, and Rand was on his way toward the door. I didn’t plan to rat out Jean Lafitte, but I was going to tell Zrakovi that I’d gone to the elf last night. I needed to warn my coconspirator, so I dropped my mental shields.

  Rand!

  His shoulders gave a quick jolt. For God’s sake, Dru, I’m standing six feet away. Stop yelling.

  I’m going to tell Zrakovi the truth. Nobody was hurt, your baby is safe, and I’m tired of lying.

  Long pause. Really long pause. Are you sure? I can keep you out of it.

  No, I disagreed with his orders and I need to stand up for what I believe.

  Does this mean I can go ahead and kill him?

  I closed my eyes. In my head, I heard Rand laughing. Just kidding.

  Jerk.

  “Elder Zrakovi, can I talk to you for a few minutes?” God, I hoped he was still the wizard I’d always thought him to be—calm, rational, and fair.

  And, today, angry. “I think that’s a good idea. Would you wait outside, Mr. Randolph?” Zrakovi frowned at Rand, who hadn’t moved any closer to the door.

  “I think I should stay, Mr. Zrakovi, at least for a minute. I would like to explain something.”

  Zrakovi’s temper began simmering. Again.

  Rand, let me handle this.

  He ignored me. Again. “I’m sorry I blindsided you. But when Dru came to me late last night, she said you were concerned that my child could be used to manipulate me and asked if I could think of a way to keep that from happening. I thought—we both thought—that if the fae, in particular, saw wizards and elves united, it would make them less likely to take any kind of action against Eugenie or my child.”

  Zrakovi’s anger didn’t drain away but it leveled off. And damn if the elf hadn’t given me a partial loophole to slide through; he never said I’d revealed Zrakovi’s desire to destroy the baby, but only his concern that it would be used as a pawn. Maybe it was enough of a loophole to save my job.

  “Thank you, Mr. Randolph. I don’t think we’ll need to speak further. Again, congratulations on your pending fatherhood.”

  Rand nodded and squeezed my shoulder on his way out the door. I’ll wait for you, Dru.

  No, go home, I need to talk to Alex after this. I had no idea what we’d say, but Alex and I had worked too hard to let politics pull us apart.

  Zrakovi closed the door and returned to his seat. I pulled a chair to the other side of the table, facing him.

  “Is what Quince Randolph said the whole truth, DJ?” Zrakovi leaned back in his seat and rolled his neck around, popping stiff tendons.

  I took a deep breath. I’d keep Rand’s loophole, at least for now. But I had to try and explain the rest of it. “Not exactly, but I’d like the chance to tell you why I disobeyed a direct order. It wasn’t something I did lightly.”

  “Very well.” Zrakovi loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt. Trying to relax, but not successfully. “I realize Eugella is your friend.”

  “Eugenie is a very good friend,” I said. “But I doubt I would have done anything differently had she been only a casual acquaintance.”

  He frowned. “You have that little respect for me, for your position, for your own people?”

  “This isn’t about respect, or power, or politics, but about right and wrong.”

  “So it was a moral issue, or a religious issue?”

  I leaned forward, propping my elbows on the table. “Look, it’s not about whether I think ending a pregnancy is right or wrong. I’ll admit I’m all over the map on that topic. If it were me, if I were carrying a child with this much preternatural baggage? I don’t know. I might choose not to have the baby. I don’t know without actually being in that position.” Which would, hopefully, be never.

  I took a deep breath and chose my words carefully. “The point is, it needs to be Eugenie’s choice. I will absolutely tell her your feelings about it, and why you strongly believe that ending the pregnancy is the best solution. I’ll tell her you believe this baby has the potential to cause a lot of strife in the prete world and that it might endanger both her and the baby. But I can’t use my magic to take the decision away from her. I won’t. It’s wrong.”

  Zrakovi didn’t respond, just leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and frowned.

  Plus, it wasn’t just Eugenie involved. “I have my issues with Quince Randolph,” I said, my voice softer. “You know our bond was a business deal and not a marriage. But this is his child; he can already tell it’s a boy. Preemptive strikes are all well and good, but not when it’s a strike against a threat that might not even exist. Sure, this baby might cause chaos. But he also could help broker peace.”

  Zrakovi steepled his fingers in front of his face and stared at the floor a long time. When he looked back up at me, I realized he’d been shielding a lot better than I’d thought. He was still furious.

  Well, screw him. I was right, damn it.

  “Let me clarify.” His voice was cold. Two days as interim First Elder and his political animal had taken over. “Did you understand my direct orders to go to Eugenie and talk to her, and to perform the procedure yourself if she would not agree?”

  “Yes, you made that perfectly clear.”

  “Was Alex Warin under the impression that you were going to follow my orders?”

  He was going to try to implicate Alex in this, but that wasn’t happening. “I lied to him. I told him what he wanted to hear and then I went to find a solution I thought was fair. When I left his house, he thought I was going to Eugenie’s.”

  “Did you talk to her at all?”

  “No I did not.” I paused, taking a second to tamp down my own rising anger. “I was on my w
ay to Eugenie’s house when it occurred to me that Rand knew the political landscape better than I. I thought he might have a way to neutralize any threat his child might pose.” I didn’t admit to selling Zrakovi straight down the Mississippi.

  “I see. And do you still stand by your testimony regarding Jean Lafitte’s involvement in the burning of Etienne Boulard’s club—or his lack of involvement?”

  On that matter, I’d developed clarity. Selling Jean out would hurt a lot of people and accomplish nothing. No one had been hurt, and telling Zrakovi that Christof was hanging out with Jean and manipulating the weather to torture the elves? That would just make the future First Elder more paranoid.

  “Yes, I stand by my testimony completely. I apologize for not revealing Christof’s presence but didn’t feel it had any bearing on the matter.”

  Zrakovi speared me with a hard look. “You’re a talented wizard, DJ, and your elven magic makes you an extremely valuable asset to our people in these troubled times.” He leaned forward and smacked his hand on the table, his flat palm cracking against the wood like a gunshot and making me jump. “But don’t ever think you’re untouchable. Don’t ever make me think you’d turn your skills against me or the wizarding council. Don’t disobey me again. I’d hate to see you follow the path of your father.”

  I looked down at my hands. Hands that mixed potions, wielded a staff of fire, and held on to things too tightly out of a deep-seated fear that I’d lose yet another person I cared about.

  It always came back to Gerry, didn’t it? Gerry had followed his beliefs, betrayed his kind, and paid with his life.

  Yet the path Gerry followed had been a selfish one, carved out of a desire for power. I’d sworn when he died that I’d never go down the road he’d trodden.

  I’d been naïve.

  In the end, I had to do what I believed was right, even if it meant letting go of old promises. Maybe even letting go of people I loved. But it would not be out of selfishness, and it would not be for power.