Chapter 5 Sebastian #3
I debated against asking after Kayla, but that would probably just rub him the wrong way. Instead, I threw in a little praise. “Are you or Jason able to set up a meeting with the wolves for me? You’re better placed to know if I should be talking to Conri’s beta or dealing with Conri directly.”
Nothing too effusive, but there was never anything wrong with letting someone know their importance.
It seemed to work. Kyle set his glass down then seemed to think better of it and grabbed it again, his huge hand almost making it disappear from sight.
His grasp was nothing like Kayla’s delicate hold had been.
He returned to the bottle of rum and reached out for my glass, too.
I passed it to him. “That bad?”
He nodded. “Yeah.” He poured the measures more carefully than when I’d done it earlier for Kayla and myself. “I’ve been here a while now, and it’s not like Baton Rouge.”
I nodded as I accepted my drink from him. “Are we going to have a tough time in New Orleans?”
I’d hoped any difficulties would be eased at least a little bit by the upgrade to the club, but this sounded more serious than simply giving the locals something new to be excited about. He sipped his rum again then pressed his lips together for a moment.
“We might,” he conceded when he finally spoke.
“The supernaturals here have their own world, which they seem to run to suit themselves. I’m not sure how much actual ruling Francois did the last time émile was in stasis, but if émile awoke expecting to find order and structure in his kingdom, he would have been disappointed. ”
I threw back my rum. “Okay. So, what are your most recent observations?”
The renovation of the club had been my biggest initial priority.
I’d been happy to let Kyle do the information gathering, although now it seemed Kyle’s project was about to come home to roost—and I was maybe about to get absolutely shit on by not paying enough attention to the structure here in New Orleans before now.
“Okay.” He leaned forward, holding the rim of his glass between his thumb and forefinger as he rested his forearm over his knee.
He always seemed to glower, like his face didn’t know any other position.
“The witches generally seem to do as they please. They answer to no one, and they make up spells for anyone who will pay them. Their inter-coven allegiances are fragile, and they seem to have no loyalty to any of the royal families in the state or farther afield.”
Well, that didn’t sound so bad. I just needed to bring them back onside.
“But the wolves,” Kyle continued, “are a whole different story in terms of not being quite so self-enclosed and operating within their own bubble. You can definitely trust Conri because he made the original deal with Nic and he’s been an ally in the past, but all bets are off for any of the others.
Tread carefully.” He suddenly slipped his phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen.
“Oh, Temple’s outside. I’ll go let him in. ”
I chuckled. “Temple not know how to use a doorbell?”
But Kyle was already making his way down the corridor and didn’t deign to answer.
When Temple entered the parlor moments later, he headed straight to the couch and downed the rest of Kyle’s drink before making a face. “Ugh. Rum?” He wiped his mouth.
“Hello, Temple,” I said dryly. “It’s always a pleasure to see you, too.”
“Won’t be today,” he replied, as he stretched his legs out and crossed his feet at the ankles, his hands resting on the back of his head. “Had to put a few vampires down for ya.”
“Oh?” I lifted an eyebrow then stared into my empty glass. I thought that maybe drinking in times of stress was a leftover habit from my human life, but I couldn’t be sure. “What happened?”
Temple shrugged, the movement ungainly like he’d never quite learned how to control all of his limbs before he was turned. “They were loyal to House Ricard.”
For a moment, I thought he might spit on the hardwood floor beneath his feet, but then he seemed to reconsider the action.
“A few of them are… resistant to Nic’s rule.” His mouth stretched into a grimace, and he stared sullenly into his empty rum glass. “Got a decent drink?” Fatigue seemed to linger around him, and some of his usual level of disrespect was definitely tempered by uncharacteristic moodiness.
This wasn’t the first time he’d come to us with news of vampire slaughter, though.
I gazed at the empty fireplace and strode to put my glass on the mantle.
Slaughter wasn’t my preferred way forward by any stretch, and after what I’d just read in Francois’s journals, I didn’t want the residents here to think the new king was the same as the old king.
But… there was always a but.
Maybe we couldn’t do it without bloodshed.
Nic would hate it, but maybe it was truly the only way to enforce his rule in some areas.
I had to trust Temple to know the best way forward.
New Orleans had always been his city and he knew these people best out of any of us.
I couldn’t let my nervousness at starting off on the wrong foot mean that Nic would look weak.
“Is this how émile ruled?” My tone gave away that I’d hoped to establish Nic’s rule as different right away, and Temple raised an amused eyebrow—perhaps at the thought I’d expected anything different than a violent beginning.
“How long will this have to continue?” I pursued.
“All this killing in the name of the king.”
My question wasn’t really for anyone in particular, and no one answered. I wasn’t even sure there was an answer.
If I got the initial part of establishing his rule wrong, that would leave Nic wide open to power challenges, himself.
Vampires would come crawling out of the woodwork from all over the state and possibly the whole country for a chance to control New Orleans, and I couldn’t allow any of them to get that sort of chance.
I’d certainly never find my forgiveness then.