I turned to the sitting room door, and he stood framed in the doorway, back in his casual loose cotton tunic, black pants, and black boots. Our glances caught and held, and we didn’t have to say it: He was glad to see me, and I was glad to see him. I had needed visual reassurance that he was okay, even though in theory I knew he couldn’t be killed. The events of last month had changed the tenor of our relationship. I just couldn’t quite put a finger on how it had changed, or what it meant.
After what was probably a couple of seconds too long, he turned his attention to Eugenie. “Welcome to my home, Mademoiselle Eugenie. This is an unexpected and delightful surprise.”
She started to shake hands with him, then half-curtsied, then threw her hands in the air. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to greet a famous pir … uh, privateer.”
He laughed and took her hand, raising it to his lips for a kiss. “This is the proper way for ladies and gentlemen of my time.”
Yeah, Jean was just an old-fashioned guy.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Jean led us into the sitting room, which was much as I remembered it from last month. Lots of dark wood, plush fabrics, and wealth. The “gentleman pirate” had been an extremely rich man in his human days, so I guess it was only right that his immortal version continue to enjoy the spoils of his piratical plundering.
“I needed to talk to you about political stuff, and Eugenie needed an adventure.” An escape, more like, but I hadn’t decided whether or not to confide in Jean about that. Eugenie’s situation was absolutely none of his business, but I’d found him to be a source of surprisingly sound advice. He read people very, very well, which made his betrayal by Etienne Boulard sting him all the more. On the other hand, he was often narcissistic, scheming, and way too smart for his own good.
From a delicate writing desk, I picked up what looked like a scrimshaw sailing ship and held it up to the lamplight, trying to tell if it was carved of real ivory. A deafening clang startled me into dropping it, and I made a nifty midair catch. Heart pounding, I turned to see if hordes of undead British troops were storming the beach, but I found only Jean ringing a large handbell loud enough to wake the undead.
What would arrive at that summons? A flock of maidens bearing refreshments? A pirate legion, come to do the master’s bidding?
I had only a few seconds to wait before a young woman appeared from the porch. She had a tousled mane of black hair, a perfect tan, and eyes the color of jade. She was stunning, and I forcibly stomped down the spark of jealousy that sprang to life, beating it to ashes. Jean’s personal life was no concern of mine.
“Drusilla, Eugenie, this is Collette.” Jean presented her without further explanation, which I found extremely annoying.
Collette wore khaki shorts and a Pat O’Brien’s T-shirt. She was not of Jean’s generation. “So, what do you do here for Jean?” I asked purely as a matter of sentinel business, of course.
“He’s been nice enough to let me live here part of the time,” Collette said, smiling and holding out a hand for me to shake. Darn it, she was so gorgeous I wanted to hate her but she was perfectly lovely. She also wasn’t human, alive or undead. The energy signature of her handshake was very familiar. “You’re loup-garou?”
She nodded. “It’s hard to fit in with my old life in New Orleans since I was turned, so I had been living in Old Orleans until I met my boyfriend there a few weeks ago—my fiancé, actually. I moved out here to be with him.” She paused, and what looked like a flash of uncertainty crossed her face. “You both know him. I haven’t gotten to meet his cousin yet.”
Eugenie and I looked at each other and then back at Collette. “You’re engaged to Jake?”
“Your rogue wolf has found a mate, Jolie,” Jean said, his (quite good) teeth flashing white in his tanned face as he grinned. “Are you jealous?”
CHAPTER 9
If Jean expected me to froth with jealousy over Jake’s fiancée, he had it wrong. I’d always care about Jake, but whatever we almost had or might have had in terms of romance lay firmly behind us due to both temperament and circumstance. My only worry as far as his engagement was concerned had to do with how fast it had happened.
Then again, Jake had been hanging out in Old Orleans for months now, unbeknownst to Alex or me. He could’ve known Collette for a while.
I watched through the window as she and Eugenie walked off the verandah and onto the shadowy path toward the pirate village. Jean had summoned her not for an introduction but to keep Eugenie entertained while we talked business, sneaky pirate.
“Do you like her?” I asked Jean. “It happened awfully fast, but Jake seems happy.” Happier than I’d seen him in, well, ever.
“Oui, she understands Jacob’s struggles. He has come far in accepting his new life since meeting her, and as I understand it, such attractions happen quickly with the loup-garou.” Jean settled into his favorite chair with a sigh, and I turned to study my host.
Not just my host, or my job assignment. My friend. How strange that seemed, given that we’d started out trying to kill each other. Although, in retrospect, neither of us had tried very hard.
“You look tired.”