will not let another of my family fall to Athena’s curse.”
I nodded.
“Come now. That’s the sorriest nod I’ve ever seen,” he said gently. “Try it again with more conviction.”
My heart gave a painful squeeze, and instead of nodding, I threw my arms around him and held on tight.
I walked the French Quarter, passing old storefronts, antique shops, gift shops, restaurants, and bars. Music drifted through the streets, mingling with the voices of locals and tourists. At one time there would have been the sound of cars, but now only service-related vehicles were permitted in the square since the Novem came to power.
I decided to head back to the square one more time before going home, walking to one of the long benches in front of the cathedral.
As I sat there people passed by, and the artists and musicians and fortune-tellers plied their trades. All the while, I kept my eye on the Cabildo and Presby. I was hoping to catch Michel or Bran leaving. A few people came and went, but no one I recognized.
I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on my knees and my chin in my hands, replaying the day’s events. Eventually my thoughts shifted to my father. I barely knew him, but already I wanted to love him. Part of me already did. Getting to know him—and my mother through his memories—was something I had thought impossible. A dream.
I wanted to light a candle for my mother. All three of the cathedral’s doors, one main door and two smaller ones on either side, which symbolized the holy trinity, were open to the night air, and I could see the votive candles burning in the vestibule.
I picked up my bag to go inside, but a figure blocked my way.
I’d been so lost in thought I hadn’t noticed Gabriel approach. He slid onto the bench next to me. He had an attitude the size of the Grand Canyon, but he was a Novem heir, so I sat, determined to find out where the hell everyone had been and what had happened last night. Gabriel leaned back, stretching out his legs and linking his hands over his stomach as his friends joined him on the bench.
Gabriel was powerful, and I hated to admit it, but he’d been able to glamour me twice now, which really pissed me off. I raised my brow at him, wondering what crap he was going to lay on me this time.
“Do you ever go anywhere without your groupies?” I asked, gesturing to Anne Hawthorne and Roger Mandeville, both next in line to take their places as heads of their family.
“They know a leader when they see one.”
I laughed at that. God, he was arrogant. I couldn’t believe that at one time—for a very
He shrugged and stared at the church. “Just wondering if you heard about our little messenger at last night’s Council of Nine meeting.”
Goose bumps rose along my skin. No. But I bet he was about to tell me. He smiled smugly at my silence. “Oh, this is rich. Bastian didn’t tell you.”
I was already stung by Sebastian’s determination to face his problems alone, to leave me out of that part of his life, so Gabriel’s comment hit its mark.
“Haven’t seen him today,” I answered. “Haven’t seen any of you today. What’s going on?”
Gabriel acted like I hadn’t spoken. “You should really keep up with your boyfriend. We Bloodborns tend to
Anne Hawthorne let out a satisfied snort. She’d once had a thing for Sebastian—maybe she still did, who knew—and I wanted to sink a fist into that smug face of hers. Roger made eyes at me and laughed. Idiot.
“Is that the best you got?” I rolled my eyes, keeping a lid on my temper for once. “Get a life, Gabriel.”
“I did. I got one about twenty minutes ago, and it was pretty damn tasty.”
Gabriel leaned close to me. I tensed, steeling myself against his powers of persuasion. “If I were you, Clueless, I’d ask myself where your freak of a boyfriend was last night and all day today.” His gaze traveled to my throat. “I don’t know about you, but I bet his night was filled with sex and blood. Two cravings Bastian can no longer deny. He is what he is.”
I swallowed, wanting to grab his neck and force my power all the way to his rotten heart. Gabriel got up and sauntered off, his friends laughing at my expense.
Anger pushed hard at me to go after him, to shove him to the ground and demand to know what had happened at last night’s meeting. But I forced myself to stay still as he and his friends walked away. He was such an asshole. But a successful one in that he’d done what he set out to do—get under my skin.
NINE
I WAS TOO WORKED UP to go into the church after Gabriel’s visit. It was hard to stop the questions echoing in my head. Sebastian could do whatever he wanted. I wasn’t his keeper. And yet . . . What did Gabriel know that I did not?
My anger wouldn’t let me sit still, so I got up and headed home.
Another Mardi Gras parade was about to start, and Canal Street was filling with spectators. Before the Novem, crowds had swelled to crazy proportions during Mardi Gras. These days, with only the Quarter restored and able to host tourists, the crowds were still large, but not nearly as insane as in decades past. The Novem kept a tight rein on who came and went in their city. Certain areas were off-limits, and travel was constantly monitored. Tourism was extremely lucrative, but it also came with its share of issues, since New 2’s supernatural inhabitants weren’t exactly keen on being known to the rest of the world.
The streetcar to the GD was nearly empty. I took a seat in the middle, slid next to the window, and watched the bright city lights fade into the semi-darkened streets of the Garden District.
I exited at my stop and then made my way down the dark street to the house. Before the house came into sight, I heard the furious beat of drums echoing through the neighborhood. Sebastian was home and he was playing hard and fast—this couldn’t be good.
I found Dub sitting on the floor in the living room with another pile of stolen grave goods spread across the coffee table. I passed the room with a wave, and then took the stairs two at a time.
In my room, I dumped my pack onto my bed, then stood there drawing in a deep breath and letting it out as the vibrations from the drums snaked through the flooring and into my feet.
Instead of hunting him down about the meeting and Gabriel’s vague accusations, I sat and pulled off my shoes, lay back, tucked my hands behind my head, and listened to Sebastian’s thunder.
He played for the next hour, the tempo eventually slowing until it stopped completely. I drifted somewhere between wakefulness and sleep. A door shut downstairs. Footsteps and muted voices came from below.
I sat up and undid the twist in my hair, raking my fingers down my scalp and through the strands. Basically putting off the inevitable. Now was as good a time as any to talk to Sebastian. But part of me was afraid of what I might hear.
I went down the hall. His door was shut. It was quiet. I stood there, torn between knocking and going back to my room. Instead I stepped to Violet’s room, where hundreds of reflections spilled from her open door, painting the hallway with bright dots. I gave the door frame a light rap, sticking my head inside.
Violet’s room was a surreal, magical place, filled with masks, beads, jewelry, and gowns. Piles of them lay on the floor, a few were on her bed, and some hung over her dresser and footboard. Masks hung on the walls and were stacked on top of the dresser and were looped over the posts on her bed. The light from the lamp bounced off thousands of rhinestones, crystals, and sequins.
In the center of a pile of gowns, a red mask pushed onto the top of her head, Violet sat, looking so tiny in the heaps of material. “Dub brought me a new dress.” She lifted up a gauzy blue prom gown.
