CHAPTER 14
Sahvrin led the way to the Weigh Station, fighting to find every hidden marker.
“Ain’t no fuckin’ way Lester’s been maintaining this place,” August said for the third time, smacking himself. The mosquitoes were starving for human blood in these woods.
“How did Lazure find his way is what I’d like to know,” Jek wondered through a round of coughing. He didn’t envy his allergies in the dead of summer. Points to him for not giving a fuck. His stubborn streak would have him eat what threatened him, just to spite that it did. Then he’d build an immunity instead of die, because that’s just how Jek worked. He did all the shit that should kill you and somehow lived and grew stronger. And dumber.
“He’s probably with Big Sha Leblanc,” August muttered, smacking his face again. “Pew-tan mosquitoes are affeme. Big Sha knows the swamps better than the alligators, they won’t get lost.”
“We still keeping everything the same as last time? I sure as hell hope not.” Again, it was August with another smack. “Be the first thing I’d like to take a vote on.”
Bart chuckled. “You don’t like scribing no more?”
“Hell no. But if I have to write the minutes of the meeting, I wanna vote to use my phone. Then I’ll just record it while I text Melissa.”
“Still can’t believe you’re dating the same chick for a whole month,” Jek said. “Aghhh, thank a good fuck, I see it!”
He wanted a good fuck. It was all Sahvrin could think about now. But truly, if the wrong person ever found this place, Sahvrin would cut his own head off and lay it on a golden platter for them.
“Sweet Christ almighty,” Zep huffed, leaning over. “Now one of us has to climb a fucking tree. Remind me again why Lazure had the bright idea of putting this funhouse fifty feet high.”
Sahvrin walked up to the doorbell system and yanked on the rope, ringing the bell up top. Lazure was likely already there.
They took several steps back and stared up.
“Hey! Rapunzel, you home?” Zep yelled. “Let down your nappy hair!”
Faint footsteps clopped above, bringing a round of relieved sighs. “I hope they stocked the fridge, I’m thirsty as a mo-fo,” Bart muttered.
“How long’s this gonna take?” August wondered as the five-man crate pen lowered down.
“No clue,” Sahvrin said, grabbing the rope on the door when it got low enough.
“I got land business,” August informed.
Sahvrin glanced at him. “Unless we have swamp business first.”
“I’m counting on it,” August said. “That’s why I need to get to land.”
“What you got?” Jek asked.
“Some new toys I wanna pick up.”
“Don’t want you going alone,” Sahvrin said. “I need some things too. We can all take a ride.” Sahvrin opened the gate door.
“And what are you getting?” Zep asked, with a curious smile. “Flowers, maybe?”
“Some parts for a prototype I’m designing.”
“Better be making me one,” August said.
Sahvrin eyed him, flipping the wench switch. “It’s for the Swamp Dragon.”
“Ohhh, early Christmas,” Jek said, grinning. “Do tell.”
Sahvrin looked up, eying the groaning rigging. “Remind me to bring oil for this beast.”
“Don’t leave us hanging,” Jek said, eager.
“It’s a harpoon I originally designed for alligator hunting. Non-lethal. More of a wench.”
“Ohhhh,” Bart said, his tone going lusty. “A human wench for our upcoming swamp party?”
“Probably.”
“Pic or you lyin,” Jek said, grinning. “I know you have one, hand it over.”
Sahvrin pulled out his phone and opened his design folder, scrolling. He hit the harpoon and handed him the phone.
They all crowded around it with low whistles and dark laughter. “That’s fucking sick. And I thought I was the sadistic one.”
“It’s non-lethal,” Sahvrin reminded.
“Oh, we know all about your methods,” Jek said.
Wasn’t really a choice. Every guilty party had their day in the Bayou Bishops court system right there at The Weigh Station. All The Twelve’s hunting equipment was designed to catch, not kill. Once in confession, the tools changed, just as they did for execution.
Sahvrin took his phone back when they reached the top, pushing thoughts of His Petite back. He needed to hone his focus since the threats they were meeting about were directly tied to her.
“Well if it ain’t mah lil tinker toy podnuh.”
Sahvrin shook Big Sha’s hand, grinning at his strong grip. “Long time Big Sha. You doing good?”
“Doing great! I hear you done caught yousef a fish in the sea?”
Fucking Lazure and his swamp news flashes. “She’s one of a kind.”
“Meh yeah,” he said, laughing and patting his back hard enough to rattle his spine. “We don’t have no secrets when it comes to our lil’ ones. You know T-Randal has a new fish too, yeah?”
“Is that so?”
“Sho nuff!” Big Sha’s wide eyes indicated there was a story to be told behind this catch andSahvrin wasn’t about to ask.
“Who else is here?” Jek wondered.
“La-Fawnse!” Lazure yelled.
“Hole up yuh ass,” he drawled from behind the kitchen door. “Coffee can’t make its gawdamn self, now can it?”
“Let’s sit,” Lazure said, pulling the chair out at the head of the table.
“Same places?” Jek asked.
“Same places,” Lazure said. “And same positions. August, you’re recording.”
“I was hoping to take a vote on that.”
“Not now. Your Mah- Mah has big plans over the next few days, and we need to get done with this as quick as we can. Grab your writing gear out of the desk.”
August pushed up with a sigh while Sahvrin contemplated his parent’s marriage for the first time in maybe ever. There was nothing in the world the man seemed to love more than pleasing his mother and Sahvrin had found it amusing, and often annoying.
“It’s like a gawdamn family reunion,” La-Fawnse muttered as he took a seat at the table, looking around at each of them like a pissed off judge. “Coffee’s fresh,” he added as a sentencing.
“I’m good,” Jek muttered.
“Anybody want a water?” Bart asked at the small fridge.
All but the coffee drinkers raised their hand.
“How the hell can you drink coffee in this hot as hell heat,” August wondered after chugging his water and opening the large ledger.
La-Fawnse eyed him and raised his cup to his mouth and sipped loudly, then set the cup back on the table. “Just like that, boy,” he said in a low rasp. “When you grow swamp balls, you’ll figger it out.”
August laughed and shook his head. “I’d rather be oblivious.”
While Lazure opened the meeting with the traditional language, Sahvrin got out his knife and stone, sliding the blade slowly along it to help focus.
“So, we have a dilemma,” his father said when the meeting officially started, eyeing each of them. “We need to pick between the trafficking and the arms deal. I say we choose the arms deal. Bigger snake pit and likely both are intertwined. Anybody have a reason we might not want to do that, speak.”
They all remained silent and Lazure palmed the table. “Then we vote. All who favor us pursuing the arms deal first, say I.”
The round of I’s began with Sahvrin and went around the table.
“Now we need to talk about the particulars of the arms deal. We want to avoid suspicion with the Roulettes and need to decide how to approach them for renegotiation. Any suggestions, Sahvrin?”
He nodded. “I think I’ll have talked sense to my hot headed Pah-Pah and as leader of The Twelve, take over the renegotiations seeing as we need the money for….” He shrugged and went with, “…guess because we want it.”
Lazure leaned back, staring into the air before finally nodding. “I like it. I am getting old and ornery.“
Big Sha laughed and smacked the table. “Gettin’? You was born ornery.”
“So, we find out what and how many arms they’re shipping,” Jek said. “Any time frame we shooting for?”
“The sooner the better,” Lazure said.
“What about The Twelve?” Sahvrin asked, twirling the tip of his knife on the table.
“They will be at Mah-Mah’s celebrations. We’ll meet at the Basilique when they come, same as always. By then, we’ll have enough information to strategize.”
“How are our numbers?” Zep wondered.
“Should be in the last recording,” La-Fawnse said, sending August flipping through pages.
“Found it.” He scanned the page. “According to the Keepem’s records for last year, the numbers of The Horde total two hundred eighty-two. Damn, I do not remember writing this,” he said, amused. “You want the break down in each Hatch?”
“No,” Lazure said. “We’ll get that later from Nickels. He should have every detail about current supplies. We’ll ensure every man has their choice of defense. “Sahvrin.” Lazure eyed him now. “Put off all current jobs that you can and get as many men as you need. Time to get your war game on. I want every Hatch loaded with plenty of everything they specialize in to bring these sick motherfuckers to Church for judgment.”
Adrenalin rushed through Sahvrin at the bloodlust dripping from his words. Was just what he wanted to hear. Nothing would give him more satisfaction than giving these demons the royal treatment right there at their Weigh Station Church.
“Anybody learn anything new?” Lazure moved his gaze over them.
“A reliable source said they saw Francois son, Beaux, get in the car of a Roulette member,” August said. “Might wanna inquire into that.”
“Damn,” Lazure said. “You boys were gonna pay him a visit, first chance. Do it sooner rather than later.” He looked at Sahvrin again. “You make any more headway on the eyes you installed?”
Sahvrin drew a blank at what he was talking about. “For what exactly?”
“Tracking the waterways.”
“Our boy’s got ma-petite-on-my-mind syndrome,” Zep muttered with a low giggle. “Can’t say I don’t see the—”
Sahvrin jammed the tip of his knife inches from Zep’s arm on the table. “Do not… talk about her,” he said, his sudden rage making everything calm in him.
Zep raised his brows with exaggerated wide eyes. “Yes sir yes sir three bags full.”
He jerked his knife out of the table. “I need to run a few wires and turn it on. Can probably have it finished tomorrow or next day.”
“Oh yeah,” August said. “Just heard there’s a hurricane headed this way.”
“I already felt that bitch in my ole bones,” Big Sha said.
Lazure’s sigh weighed heavy. “They say when and where?”
“In about five days,” August said. “Spose to hit New Or-leans.”
“Ain’t that where the mutha bitch chapter is?” LaFonse wondered.
“It is,” Jek said.
“And we do know Breaux Bridge Roulette is involved with the trafficking which means so are they,” Zep said.
“How do we know that?” Sahvrin wondered.
Zep grinned. “I just so happened to be with a woman last night that knew Blanchard, one of the dude’s your petite named,” Zep said. “She was complaining about being forced to help recruit pretty girls for a modeling business they were running. When I asked how come she wasn’t their top model, she said because it wasn’t really modeling, it was a whore shop. And she was nobody’s whore.” Judging by his look, she was probably giving him head under a table while informing him.
“Any more information on Beth’s father?” Sahvrin wondered.
Bart raised his hand. “Was going to tell you this in private but realize it needs to be said here. So, I did a deep dive on her father and mother. Turns out there was a dispute the day of the funeral about how the mother died. Apparently, her mother’s sister claimed the husband poisoned her.”
“Beth would’ve known about that,” Sahvrin was sure.
He shrugged. “The sister lives in an institution so I’m thinking they may have wrote it off as psycho-dookie.”
“What about her mother, you find anything of use?” Sahvrin wondered.
“Not a thing. It’s like she didn’t exist before him.”
“You search her maiden name?”
“I looked but couldn’t find anything other than her Sweetling name. Maybe you can ask Beth for it.”
“I’ll give it to you tonight.” Sahvrin looked at Lazure. “Does Mah-Mah know about the hurricane coming?”
He tucked his chin and aimed a glare at him. “What do you think?”
Sahvrin figured. “So we’ll be having a hurricane, birthday, boudin festival party all in one, and the whole swamp is invited?”
“You know it,” Lazure said, stroking his beard again while Lafonse and Big Sha’s laughter rumbled around the room.
“You and the boys gonna be performin, right?” Big Sha asked. “My girls wanna know.” He leaned in with a gleam. “They’s in love with them Bishop boys.”
Weren’t they all. But the last thing he wanted to do was party while evil circled them like vultures. He especially didn’t want to perform.
“Your momma is expecting as much, I’m afraid,” Lazure said, eying him sideways and making Sahvrin sink inside a little.
“Miss Beth will have fun.”
Sahvrin eyed Bart, finding his smile innocent enough. “I’m sure she will,” he said, already brainstorming for excuses to get out of it. Then again, maybe a party would be the best thing for her right now. She earned a day of fun.
“One other thing,” Bart said. “You might want to ask Beth if she knows a Julian Abshire. His name keeps coming up in connection to that Blanchard dude. Maybe he’s connected somehow, I don’t know.”
“I’ll find out,” Sahvrin said, curious now.
****
Beth felt like the queen of the ball up until Lucas and Luseah arrived. Spoiled swamp child, Aunt Rena told her—Luseah, that was. “Don’t pay her no mind. She likes to stand out.”
“How old is she?”
“Oh, she’s sixteen going on thirty.” Aunt Rena giggled. “Remember that age?”
She did. She was in boarding school, missing her mom and trying not to be seen. Not sure why the girl would have a problem with her. Would it have anything to do with Sahvrin? Was she jealous? But they were family. Pretty sure they were, but she wasn’t about to double check.
“Am I doing something I need to fix?” Beth asked, just to be sure it wasn’t a culture offense.
“Oh no, honey. It’s not you. It’s her,” the woman said with a fan of her long nails toward the raven-haired beauty.” She’s probably bothered that there’s a prettier face than hers around. She’ll get over it. Those two aren’t blood, no how. They’re children of the Dark Swamp.”
Beth learned they’d been rescued fifteen years ago in a war against devil worshippers in the bayou. Her gaze strayed to the twin, the male replica in looks. What beautiful people they were. But his attitude was completely opposite of his sister, thank God. At least toward Beth. As much as she was thankful for that, it seemed to make things worse with Luseah. What a unique name. And Lucas reminded her a little of Zep, but his genuine kindness was all Sahvrin. There was nobody sweeter in the world she’d ever met than the swamp version of Sahvrin. Nothing at all like the Mr. Bossy Bishop. Memories of her recent hot encounters with him made her pulse race. She’d gotten to know his sweet side and was very eager to get to know his mean side. Or bad side as he called it.
She listened to Lucas talking and smiled. He had the cutest accent, like maybe French might not be his first language, unlike the brothers.
“Beth, would you come give me a hand?”
Beth looked toward the kitchen then hopped up at seeing Mah-Mah’s waving from the doorway. Finally, she might do something else useful. She’d helped peel potatoes—fifty of them—which took her the whole time all the cooking went on. She didn’t mind. They played music and laughed and danced while she watched and peeled to the tune of it all. What wonderful people they were. So happy and…alive. La passion, as Sahvrin would call it.
Her stomach danced in sick excitement when the thought of tonight returned again. She couldn’t wait. It was nearing dark, and she wanted to ask how long they’d be but didn’t want to look too interested. Mah-Mah seemed to know and love that they were together, but she wasn’t sure who else did.
Entering the kitchen, Mah-Mah waved her over. “The men are on their way back,” she announced in a whisper when she got close. “I want you to go wash up, you can use the inside bathroom. And then I’d like to give you some party clothes to change into. Would you like that?” she asked, smiling.
“I would love it,” Beth said, trying not to grin too big.
Mah-Mah hugged her suddenly, long and tight then pulled away. “I know you came here by terrible circumstances, but look what gift God has wrought out of this wickedness?” The woman nodded with raised brows and Beth wiped the sudden tears, agreeing.
“Yes, he has.” She fought for air, getting another tight hug from his mother, making her tears come faster.
“Oh Shaaa pee-chay, you are such a soft-hearted flower?” she observed after pulling away again.
“I…my family was different from this. Sahvrin calls it…la-passion.”
His mother laughed, and the sound of the pure joy made Beth smile. “He would know, yes?”
She seemed to be asking her and Beth’s cheeks warmed with a nod. “Yes, he definitely does.”
This got tiny claps and more giddy laughs. She held out her hand. “Come, I’ll show you where everything is!”
The mischief in her eyes made her laugh as she followed and got a tour of the spacious, adorable bathroom. The first jaw dropping feature were the two fat black pots sitting in a wooden frame for a double sink. The wood holding it glowed a warm polished brown with two Victorian framed mirrors over each pot with tons of flowering décor. Then she spied the tub hiding in the corner and gasped. “Oh my Gosh! It’s like a giant witches pot!”
Before she could worry over offending, Mah-Mah laughed, sounding tickled to death. “That’s what Sahvrin always called it! Lazure would make jokes about throwing me in it and making a gumbo and Sahvrin would cry and cry,” she said, smiling at the memory. “He was so in love with his Mah-Mah,” she informed with a serious nod. “Up until he was ten, he was dead set on marrying me!”
The story warmed Beth beyond belief before Mah-Mah jumped back to the present and hurried to show her where everything was and how it all worked. “Oh, and look!” she said, closing the bathroom door to reveal a dress hanging on the back that dropped her jaw.
“Oh my goodness, that’s beautiful.”
“And sexy?”
Beth laughed and nodded. “You took the words from my mouth.”
“Oh, I went to the soap house and got you something special to wash your lovely hair with.” She opened a cabinet and turned with a delicate glass jar filled with something lavender colored. “Sahvrin loves this smell. It’s his very favorite. You can use it for hair and body! It’s my royal luxurious recipe!”
Beth took it and opened the top for a whiff. “Oh my, now it’s my favorite.”
“Perfect! Now hurry up. I would like to help you with your hair!” She spun to leave then spun right back. “And those towels near the tub are for using, not for looks!” She gave a sudden gasp and hurried to a cabinet then floated gracefully back with another jar. “I want you to take at least a thirty-minute soak in the hot water,” she instructed with a firm tone that made Beth smile. “Use all of it.”
“The whole jar?”
She nodded once. “The whole jar.”
“I will. Thank you so much.”
She turned again, the layers of her pretty dress flying about. Reminded her of angel’s wings. “I will lock the door on the way out, my dear,” she announced without turning. “And I will call the men and tell them to take the long route home!” she said alarmed, as if realizing there wasn’t enough time.
Finally left alone, Beth went up to the dress hanging on the door, her dreamy smile spreading. From the waist down, the soft lavender flowed in various shades and soft materials. The top of the dress had sheer strips that seemed to be for draping over the arms, but not sleeves. She fingered the tiny lavender flowers covering the princess cut top and straps. How fantastical. Like Cinderella. But in an enchanting swamp kingdom with a devilishly handsome Swamp Prince.