Gideon stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared up at the elegant French Quarter hotel he owned with his brotherwas one of the oldest hotels in the quarter, and it had housed some of the most influential figures throughout the ages. The hotel was best known for its traditional French and Spanish architecture, its historical significance to the French Quarter, and overindulgent amenities.

“What now?”

Gideon didn't bother to turn around. He could hear the irritation in his twin’s deep voice.

“I was thinking stained glass,” Gideon mumbled.

“You're always thinking up something. Come on, Brother, the counsel awaits.”

Gabriel patted Gideon on the shoulder before walking past him to enter the hotel. After making a mental note to contact their architect, Gideon followed his brother inside. He strolled through the elegant lobby, conducting a quick assessment of his staff. The desk personnel were smiling and seemingly courteous. However, Gideon knew better than any that behavior tended to improve when the boss was nearby. 

“Good morning, Mr. Toussaint.”

Gideon looked down at his smiling assistant and smiled in return. Other than his brother, Glenda knew him better than anyone. She was nearly his age, but because wolves aged differently, most humans would believe her to be around forty. She was smart, funny, efficient, and mated. For Gideon, there were no other candidates worthy of the position as his assistant.

“Good morning, Glenda. What you got for me?”

“You are not gonna believe this but, after this meeting…you have nothing.”

Gideon’s smile dropped. He knitted his brow and stared pointedly at his assistant. Surely, he hadn't heard her correctly.

“Yep. I said that you have nothing. Gabriel rescheduled your two o’clock for next week. So that leaves you with a free afternoon.”

Gideon hadn't had an afternoon that wasn't filled with meetings in at least four years. He didn't have a family, but work was definitely his mistress.

“Wow. Well, okay. Thank you, Glenda.”

“Don’t pass out from the excitement,” Glenda mumbled.

“You know that I have no life,” Gideon chuckled.

“That I do. So, I made you an early dinner reservation at Henrietta’s.”

Gideon wrapped an arm around the tiny woman.

“For such an itty-bitty thang, you sure don't have a problem carrying me on your shoulders.”

Glenda giggled and handed Gideon his tablet.

“Now, if we could only get you mated.”

“All right, young lady, I got a meeting to attend. Go do some work,” Gideon dismissed before entering the conference room.

As the Alpha of his pack, Gideon sat at the head of the table. Sitting on the other end was Gabriel, the pack’s beta. To the small number of humans in their employ, they were having their monthly budget meetings. Only the shifters among the staff were aware that the counsel of wolves were convening. Twelve of the most powerful wolves in the world made it their point to meet with the most powerful pack in the United States.

“I hear that I have a light afternoon, so let’s get to it,” Gideon initiated, still staring at his tablet.

“What’s up first, Boone?” Gabriel asked.

Alvin Boone ranked wolf number three in the south. He was the ambassador of information. It was his job and talent to stay on the pulse of what was happening in the world of non-shifters. And, he was the best at keeping up with the outside world.

“The priestess is dying,” Boone announced.

Gideon’s eyes flew to Boone. He had definitely secured his attention. News of Marie Roux’s impending death was unnerving. He liked the old woman. Marie had the temperament of royalty. She was even-tempered and fair, but powerful enough to ensure compliance. Boone’s announcement was disturbing indeed. But no matter how upset Gideon was, he knew that his brother was bothered even more than he. He looked up at Gabriel. To the untrained eye, he seemed strong and focused. But Gideon knew that every time a woman from that ancestral line died, a small piece of Gabriel died with them.

“What of our enemies?” Gideon asked, switching gears.

They are many,” Tomas offered, stating the obvious.

“No shit!” Gabriel snapped.

Gideon, knowing that his brother was on edge, intervened. “What of the humans?”

“The least of our concerns,” Boone responded. “With the Voodoo woman on her deathbed, the vamps and the witches will run rampant. They’ve flocked to the quarter, and we have no knowledge of the priestess that will be next in line, or even if there is a priestess in line.”

Gideon ran his finger roughly through his dark, almost black hair. Not knowing Marie Roux’s successor was a problem. Even from a distance, Louisiana witches were a problem. They could perform spells from anywhere. Only the practitioners of Voodoo could counter their powerful spells. With Marie gone, Gideon and his pack wouldn’t be able to ensure the safety of the people. The French Quarter, along with the southern end of the United States would assuredly go to shit.

There was a time when wolves, witches, and Voodoo queens and kings worked together. But, sadly, times had changed.

“What about Ruby?” Gideon inquired.

“Nope,” Boone responded, shaking his head. “Ruby is an empath. That’s the extent of her gift. And unfortunately, Olivia, the one that died, was more powerful, and Ruby’s daughter has yet to show any abilities.”

“Fuck it! Let’s kill some witches!” Gabriel blurted.

Gideon understood that his brother had no love for witches. It was a witch that helped the humans, or what they thought were humans at the time, take away what was most precious to him.

“No,” Gideon responded, asserting his authority. “We wait for now. That line is certain. There will be an heir.”

Gideon knew that his brother was riled, but he couldn't allow him to unleash his inner hell on all of New Orleans.

“Boone, stay on it. We’ll reconvene soon.”

Boone nodded.

Without verbally ending the meeting, Gideon stood and walked out of the conference room. No surprise to Gideon, Glenda was standing outside of the room. She was smiling and holding a garment bag.

“What’s this?” Gideon asked.

“Well, I was thinking that since you’ll be spending time in the quarter, you should be wearing normal clothes.”

Gideon looked down at his navy blue, tailored suit and wondered what was so abnormal about it.

“Just take it,” Glenda urged, before he could argue.

She handed him the garment bag and the magnetic key to the Royal suite that he normally used when he stayed in the quarter. She turned and walked away.

“Be normal,” she ordered over her shoulder as she disappeared down the hall.

Gideon glanced at the bag and decided to follow the tiny wolf’s orders. He made his way down the hall, to the elevator, entering before his brother even left the conference room. Gideon carried the garment bag to the Royal suite, almost afraid of what Glenda considered to be normal.