“It’s a building at Tulane University,” I said. “Across from Audubon Park, where the de Boré plantation sat during your day. There’s no reason to hold the meeting at night since the vampires aren’t invited.”
I knew this because the sheet contained a list of the expected attendees. Both Alex and Jake, as well as a couple of names I didn’t know, would be on security duty. Noticeably absent from the list were Garrett Melnick, any other representative of Vampyre, and Geoffrey and Adrian Hoffman. Noticeably present was Lennox St. Simon, my mystery uncle representing the UK and EU, and, at the head of the list, Willem Zrakovi, Acting First Elder.
At the bottom of my sheet, scribbled in blue ink, was a postscript:
DJ—Please be prepared to discuss what you know about Eugenita’s intentions toward the elven child of Quince Randolph, as well as Etienne Boulard’s whereabouts and Jean Lafitte’s involvement in the burning of his club.
—Wm Zrakovi
I had an overwhelming urge to run away from home. Except unless I jumped over to the Beyond, the Elders could track me down using my unique magical signature. And the number of places in the Beyond where I didn’t have enemies was dwindling fast.
“Might I interest you in a brandy, Jolie?”
It couldn’t hurt. “Please.”
When Jean handed me the glass of amber liquid that I knew would set my insides on fire but numb the panic building inside me, I handed him my paper. “Read the note at the bottom.”
He studied it a moment and tossed it on the coffee table.
I sat in the middle of the sofa facing the large windows, and he sat on the matching sofa opposite me—exactly where Rene and I had sat earlier this evening. It seemed like a week ago.
“We appear to be at a crossroads, you and I.” Jean’s voice was soft and deep, without a trace of smarminess or sarcasm. His mood was somber but no longer nervous.
I looked at this undead pirate who was causing me so much inner turmoil. Really looked at him. He bore the scars of the difficult life he’d led in his human years. His skin was tanned and smooth on his face but for the jagged scar across his jawline. But there were stress lines at the edges of his mouth. Deep blue eyes conveyed so much, from arrogance to sincerity, but often distrust as well. His dark hair had been pulled back and tied with a leather cord.
He was very handsome, without a trace of prettiness. He had a mouth that could be cruel. A mind that was nimble and sharp as razor wire. A sense of values that were his own and no one else’s.
What did he see when he looked at me? A child, or a woman? A valuable ally? A potential lover? Or a means to an end?
“Let’s start with the easy part,” I finally said. “Did you order your men to burn Etienne’s club?”
He settled back on the sofa with his brandy and regarded me, lips pursed. “Do you wish the truth, Drusilla? Once I have told you, the burden of what to do with that truth falls to you. You may yet postpone your time for taking a stand, and I might yet postpone my time to decide whether or not to place my fate in your hands.”
“I know that.” Oh, how I knew that. My gut told me now was the time, though, while the crisis was relatively minor, while I still could think and not just react. “I can’t make an honest decision about what stand I should take—or if I should take one—unless I know the full truth. And the time for honest decisions is here, I think.”
Everything—Eugenie, Alex, Jean, Rand, the council, the political tensions—seemed to be hurtling toward various cliffs, with me standing at a series of crossroads between them and their destinations. I felt it in my gut; if I didn’t choose which cliff I was going off, and with whom I’d take the plunge, I’d be torn to shreds as they each tried to take a piece of me.
If I were Alex, my answer would be simple. I’d go in whatever direction the Elders were headed. I’d side with the wizards, right or wrong, because that was what was expected of me. At one time, even as recently as a few months ago, I’d have thought my choice was that simple, too.
But I’d seen too much since Katrina’s aftermath had thrown our world into chaos. The wizards’ political machinations and paranoia were as much to blame as anything for the current interspecies tensions.
A sudden realization hit me upside the head like a two-by-four, and put into perspective why I was struggling so hard to take a stand: The people I really cared about, the ones I loved each in his or her own way, were unanimous in one aspect. None of them were wizards. That revelation almost took my breath away, but I had to set it aside for now.
“Tell me the truth,” I said to Jean, digging in my heels at the crossroads, preparing to make the first of what my heart told me would be a line of hard decisions.