“To know me is to love me.” Fi grinned. “By the way, you look nice in your new clothes. A lot more normal. Except for all the gold bits on your hands and face, but I’m guessing no one will look twice at you in New Orleans. They’ll probably just think you’re a street performer on the way to your job.”
Within an hour of them deplaning, Jerem had them settled into the rental car he’d arranged, then drove them to the hotel, stopping only for the checkpoint, which they sailed through.
The last time she’d done this, Mal had met her in the city. And she hadn’t been pregnant. How fast things could change in so little time.
At the hotel, Jerem turned the keys over to the valet but wouldn’t let the bellboy touch the bags. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that the long duffel held two swords and a leather roll of smaller blades. At least flying private made transporting weapons a lot easier.
Once in the penthouse, they separated into their bedrooms, each setting their alarms for the same time. The only place she knew to look for Khell was La Belle et la Bête, the oldest othernatural bar in the French Quarter. It’s where she’d found him last time and she’d gotten the sense that he was a regular there, thanks to info Augustine had given her.
She didn’t know if Khell would be there now, but chances were good she’d be able to persuade someone there into divulging his address. How much persuading that would take she didn’t know, but she wanted to be rested for it.
Besides, there was little point in arriving at Khell’s too early and waking him or whatever his girlfriend’s name was up. Chrysabelle needed him to be as amenable as possible, not cranky because she’d pulled him from his beauty sleep.
But when the alarm went off a few hours later, the sleep she’d managed had been fitful at best, disturbed by anxiety over what the outcome of this trip could mean if things didn’t go well. Trying to push the worries out of her head only gave place to new ones.
Reluctantly, she tapped the alarm off, got up, and showered. She dressed in something that gave her a little more edge: black jeans, a long-sleeved gray T-shirt, and a darker gray leather jacket.
Then she unpacked her arsenal and strapped the daggers to her waist, where they’d be mostly hidden by her jacket. The sacres might upset a few patrons at the bar, so they’d stay here until she returned and knew she had passage to the Claustrum. They were definitely going with her then.
Fi walked into the bedroom sipping a large cup of coffee and wearing one of the hotel robes. Her hair was still a little damp. “Where to first?”
Chrysabelle sat at the dressing table and began to braid her hair out of the way. “La Belle et la Bête. Means beauty and the beast. It’s an old othernaturals-only joint in the French Quarter.”
“Sounds awesomely not awesome.” Fi rolled her eyes. “Only fae would name a bar after a fairy tale. What is it, one giant tea party?”
Chrysabelle laughed, catching Fi’s gaze in the mirror. “Not exactly. Last time I was there, the bartender was varcolai.” She raised her brows for effect. “Gator shifter.”
“For real?” Fi sat cross-legged on the bed. “So is this one of those deals where I have to stay in ghost form?”
She tied off the end of the braid and flipped it over her shoulder. “You might not even be able to see the building in your human form. It’s got all kinds of fae magic protecting it.”
“Hmm,” Fi said. “This place might not be so bad after all.”
Mal tucked the portrait of Sophia into his pocket. “You can’t stay here.”
Tatiana seemed perplexed by that news. “Why not? The sun will be up soon. Where else am I going to go?”
“Back to Corvinestri. I have something to take care of before I help you.” Someone, actually. A gilded, blond someone he wanted out of his life for good. “When that’s done, I’ll come to you.”
She laughed. “How exactly are you going to get to Corvinestri? You keep a private jet somewhere I don’t know about?”
“I can borrow one.” Dominic owed him. Or he’d steal it.
“You won’t be able to get through the wards.”
“So fix that. You already said you were going to return me to my noble status. Make that the first step. Otherwise, I’ll have a hard time believing you.”
“Fine.” She lifted her chin. “Not that I’m not happy to get out of this hellhole you call home.” She grimaced. “How do you live here?”
He picked one of his favorite daggers off the wall, hefting it in his hand. “You didn’t leave me with many options.”
Her eyes went to the blade. “Yes, well, let’s try to put that behind us, shall we? I’ve promised to rectify the situation. Let it go.”
Let it go? She’d chained him in the ruins of an old fortress and left him to rot. He should just kill her now and be done with it, but the lure of access to all that wealth was great. And having power meant getting away with murder. Literally. He reluctantly tucked the dagger into his belt. “I’m ready for you to leave.”
She sniffed. “What if someone tries to drug you again?”
“They won’t. I’ll only drink straight from the vein until I see you again.” Which meant killing a few humans, but it wasn’t like he’d never done that before.
“That’s still not a guarantee.”
“You’re wasting dark. The sun will be up soon and you’re not daysleeping here.”