Bad Blood
“Blu might have something to say about that.” Augustine gave a little smirk. His gaze went to Mortalis. “Is she even talking to you? Considering the company you’re keeping.”
“No,” Chrysabelle answered Mal, pulling her hand out from under his. “No killing. There’s already been enough of that.” A little spark came back to her eyes, and she finally made eye contact with him. “But Loudreux has just made my enemies list. I will not be used as a pawn.” She turned away to speak to Mortalis. “I apologize for not listening to you. My stubbornness gets in my way sometimes.”
For the first time since they’d arrived in New Orleans, Mal saw a hint of softness in Mortalis’s eyes. “You didn’t know,” the fae said. “I’m sorry Loudreux took advantage of you. It’s what he does. But that’s no excuse. I should have tried harder to explain things to you.”
Augustine nodded. “Yes, you should have.” He turned to Chrysabelle. “So you see why I have no desire to take the job.”
She nodded. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
“It’s okay,” he said, his face suddenly lighting up. “Listen, you ever need anything in New Orleans? Call me. Any enemy of Loudreux is a friend of mine. Be happy just to take you out and show you what a great city this really is.”
Mal eyed the fae with a look that unfortunately couldn’t kill.
“Hear, hear,” Olivia said, raising her glass to Chrysabelle but winking at Mal. “Of course, that goes for your boyfriend, too.”
“My wha—Oh, you mean Mal,” Chrysabelle said.
At least she hadn’t corrected Olivia. Mal smiled at the old woman for her indelicate way of letting Augustine know that Chrysabelle was spoken for. Sort of. Chrysabelle stood. “Thank you.” Her thumb worried the hidden blade ring on her right hand. “Mortalis, we’re through unless—”
He was out of his chair as well. “No, we’re through.”
“Typical,” Augustine said.
Mortalis didn’t respond to his brother, only screwed his face into an angry glower and headed for the door. “I’ll be in the car.”
Shaking his head, Augustine got up and joined Olivia at the bar. He took a glass down and set it on the counter, then grabbed the bourbon. “Where to next?”
“We have another name on the list.”
“Who?” He poured himself a double shot, then topped Olivia’s glass.
“Someone named Daw, I believe.” Chrysabelle looked at Mal, then slanted her eyes toward the door. She was ready to go, ready to get this over with.
Mal nodded. “It was a great pleasure to meet you, Olivia. Thank you for your hospitality.”
“You’re welcome anytime, cher,” she said.
“He won’t do it,” Augustine stated, hoisting his drink.
“What?” Chrysabelle asked.
“Daw. He won’t take the job.” Augustine swallowed a finger’s worth of bourbon and set the glass back down. “I can give you the name of someone who will, though.”
“Why hasn’t he already stepped up, then?”
“And go against the Prime’s son? No one’s that foolish. But with Sklar gone, it’s anyone’s game.” He smiled. “Anyone but mine.”
“His name?” Chrysabelle didn’t smile back, a sure sign that she was reaching the end of her patience with this day. Or with you.
Augustine rummaged around behind the bar and came up with a pen and paper. “His name is Khell.” He scribbled some lines down, then held the paper out. “And here’s where you can find him—La Belle et la Bête.”
Chrysabelle took the paper. “Beauty and the Beast?”
“Your French is tres bien.” Olivia smiled at her. Augustine raised an appreciative brow.
“Mal’s is better.” Chrysabelle tucked the note into her pocket. “What kind of place are you sending us to?”
Augustine acted like he hadn’t heard her comment about Mal. “It’s the oldest othernatural bar in the Vieux Carré. Goes without saying vampires aren’t welcome.” He spared a half-second look in Mal’s direction. “Khell’s a mutt, but he’s got enough wysper in him to be effective.”
“Thank you,” Chrysabelle said. “Olivia, nice to meet you.”
“You too, darling.” Olivia grinned, but her gaze skipped to Mal. “Y’all come back now, ya hear?”
Chrysabelle didn’t speak again until they were outside and halfway down the sidewalk. “Loudreux is going to get his for making me kill Sklar.”
Mal nodded, unsure what to say since his offer to kill the cypher had gone flat. “You didn’t really kill him.”
“But I’m responsible for his death.”
“Technically, I’m the one who persuaded him.” Killed him.
“And you did it because of me.” She stopped and wheeled to face him. “It is what it is, don’t try to sugarcoat it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
She stuck her finger into his chest. “But when this is done, when I’ve found my brother and my comarré life is truly behind me, Loudreux’s day of reckoning is going to come. So help me, holy mother.”
Mal nodded again and got the car door for her, an inordinate sense of pride rising up in him. Loudreux was in deep. Without the restraints of the comarré mores, there was no telling what kind of vengeance Chrysabelle might wreak. The side of his mouth curved up as he rounded the car to his side.