Chapter 3 Sebastian
Sebastian
Isurveyed the club a week after Ben’s men had started their work. Like hell this was going to take a month. They looked nearly done already. They’d done major structural renovations like I’d asked them to change a lightbulb or flip a switch. All of their work had been quick and efficient.
Leaning on a new silver railing, I looked down into what would be my club.
It was black and chrome for the most part, with tiny lights dotted through the ceiling and upper walls, creating a virtual starscape.
The effect was both magical and expensive looking, which would help justify the prices I’d be charging my customers.
Now, though, the main lights were on and shutters were open so the whole place was flooded with light and the men could work and see what they were doing.
Soon Allécher would be a club people would seek to be members of.
I could already see the dancers taking up the floor, milling crowds, regulars at the bar, and the line of people wanting to get in stretching down the block.
It would be exclusive and expensive, and it would ensure the Dupont royal name was front and center in New Orleans.
That was what I really wanted—to secure proper representation for Nic, and for him to approve of what I was doing here.
I hurried down the steps into the main space.
We’d converted one of the first rooms upstairs overlooking the club into my office.
Quite a bit of inspiration for the décor and design came from Nic’s office at La Petite Mort.
He seemed to have established his control by always being able to see, and as I planned to allow vampires to bring their pets with them to Allécher, I didn’t want anything getting out of hand.
That meant eyes on the situation all the time.
Allowing blood drinking on the premises was potentially a risky move, but it would make a big splash with the locals. It would put us on the map from the very first day.
As would allowing the wolf shifters access—although, that would maybe have a more negative reception as vampires and wolves had never been particularly friendly. But Nic had forged an alliance with Conri, and I intended to see that through and do my part to strengthen it.
That said, access to the club would still be by my invitation only, and I wanted those to be coveted—like the illustrious golden ticket.
Kyle stood on the other side of the room; head bowed as he discussed something with the foreman.
We were both of the same mind when it came to the club, and I trusted him to handle any of the same details I’d be asked about, especially now that work was underway.
It was dumb to think I needed to do it all alone for it to hold value with Nic.
He preferred teamwork, and I needed to be seen to be playing nice rather than going off alone again.
Jason wasn’t here, but he was likely off liaising with the pack, and he’d report in later.
So far, everything was pretty much in hand.
My conversations with Nic were short, basic and filled with good news rather than issues, and we were both happier for it.
I was probably talking to Nic more often than ever before, and perhaps that was the way he wanted it —especially if he’d decided he needed to keep his friends and family close and me closest of all.
I waved to get Kyle’s attention. Nic had mentioned something about Kyle putting together a list of people of interest for us to use when he first spoke about sending me to New Orleans, and it was probably about time that I checked out the names on that list.
But first… There was a certain singer who’d been wandering around inside my head since she’s made her sharp exit from the club when we had no work for her. I couldn’t afford for her to be in my head. Leia had managed to be there and look how that had turned out.
Kyle nodded in greeting as he walked toward me, but he didn’t immediately say anything.
“Hey, Kyle,” I opened the conversation and received a second curt nod.
He’d never believed in wasting words, and it was good to see him back to his usual self.
“Nic said you were compiling a list of people of interest?”
He merely nodded.
“Is there an employee list as well?” If I’d tried to sound casual, I failed, because his right eyebrow lifted an almost imperceptible amount at my eager tone.
I tightened my fingers into a fist at my side and tried again. “I think I should review that list to find out if any of the staff should be brought back.”
“Okay.” Kyle shrugged and started to walk back up the stairs to the offices.
We had quite a grand descent from them — the chrome banister framed black glass steps, and the eye was automatically drawn upwards to the mirrored glass of my office, and the soft lights illuminating the walkway that led farther into the staff area.
I’d considered having designated feeding rooms up here, but in the end, it had made more sense to limit client access to the downstairs space.
Kyle led the way into the office he’d been working from.
Where mine matched the black and chrome color scheme from the rest of the club, his looked as though he’d purchased items from the nearest thrift shop—and probably had.
Boxes were piled neatly in a corner, but a worn, wooden desk sat empty except for a pen and notepad on the other side of the room.
A basic chair was behind it, and I wrinkled my nose at a slightly stale odor.
“It might be time for a furniture upgrade,” I muttered.
Kyle shrugged. “Makes no difference. I’m only working in here.
” He gestured toward the boxes. “Those are Francois’s employee records.
They don’t seem to be in any particular order, and I’m currently sorting through them to figure out the current employees.
I’m working up a master list that has all of them so we can cross-reference. ”
I nodded. “I’m looking for one in a particular, a singer who came in last week. Kayla something.”
I knew her last name. McKenna. It was pretty much tattooed onto the inside of my head.
But just blurting it out would look very odd indeed.
Better to seem disinterested or careless rather than signaling I felt exactly the opposite.
Kyle also reported events back to Nic, and I didn’t need him reporting that.
“Yeah. I think I ran across her file last night.” He dragged the box closest to us over to the desk. “It should be in here.”
I resisted hovering at his side as he flipped through the paperwork.
“I definitely saw a singer,” he murmured, almost like he was talking to himself.
“If I recall correctly, she’s been working for the Ricards for about five years.
” He grabbed a file and lifted it out of the box.
“Oh, but that’s not the most interesting part.
” He handed me the paperwork, and I skimmed it.
“Oh.” I lifted my gaze to meet Kyle’s. “She’s a witch?” Now hell, that was interesting.
Nic had told me we needed witches, so taking a more detailed interest in Kayla wouldn’t be untoward at all. It would be encouraged…Expected, in fact.
And we already had a PR problem in New Orleans as far as the witches were concerned — or a potential one. My thoughts strayed to the old witch who’d helped Nic and the violent end she’d come to at Francois’s hands.
If any of the witches here knew about that, they’d probably already be giving us a wide berth — or maybe even planning some revenge.
Jason had done a little extra research into Lettie, and beyond being powerful, she was a lynchpin in the witch community here. Nic had ordered me to keep her death as quiet as possible while we established ourselves.
We hadn’t killed the witch, but her involvement with our actions against the House of Ricard had been enough to bring about her death.
Francois had seen to that. We probably wouldn’t be the flavor of the month with any of her friends when they found out—hence the secrecy.
We’d be met with suspicion at the very least, and I needed to get ahead of any information leaks if I could, to secure us as a good option for the remaining witches to ally with.
Hopefully, even work with. Starting with Kayla McKenna.
But the idea of concealing such a big event as the death of their matriarch sat uneasily inside me.
Perching my ass against the edge of Kyle’s desk, I flipped through the paperwork, pausing as a page with signatures caught my eye.
“A witch with a contract?”
“Yep.” Kyle’s reply was lazy. “Looks like she’s been under contract to the Ricard family as long as she’s worked at The Neutral Zone. She’s one of their in-house witches.”
The employee file confirmed Kyle’s words, and the first flutters of excitement beat their wings in my chest. “A bound witch. I think Nic was looking for exactly this situation.”
Kyle nodded, but his face retained his usual tense expression, the line of his jaw tight and harsh.
I closed the file and held it at my side for closer perusal later. I wanted to learn everything there was to know about Kayla McKenna — even more so now that she aligned so closely with my commitments to Nic.
“So.” Again, I aimed for somewhat casual, but that really no longer mattered. “Any idea whether the contract carries over to Nic? Does she—or any of the Ricard witches—have to fulfil their contracts under successive rules?”
A lot hinged on Kyle’s answer, and disappointment filled me as he shrugged.
“I haven’t gotten that far into the paperwork and understanding the contracts the various employees signed.
” He curled his lip. “I’m not sure Francois standardized anything.
He was very…” He seemed to cast around for the right words. “Laissez-faire.”