Pirate's Alley

I trudged back to the eighth floor, dragged myself down the hallway, and dumped everything in my room except the staff. Then I knocked on the door of Jean’s suite.

 

There are many people I could have found inside who would not have surprised me. Truman Capote wouldn’t have surprised me. Christof wouldn’t have surprised me. I’d even have been unsurprised to see Jean’s brother Pierre, half-brother Dominique You, or one of his pirate cronies. I half expected Rene.

 

But not in my wildest dreams would I have expected to see Adrian Hoffman, fangs and all.

 

He looked even worse than when I’d summoned him to my hotel bathroom to ask about elven pregnancies. Vampires always seemed to look elegant and refined and the prettiest version of whatever their human countenance had been. Adrian had always been very handsome, like a tall Montel Williams who enjoyed some ear bling.

 

He was still handsome, but had been completely stripped of his cocky attitude. In fact, he looked scared.

 

“Adrian.” I nodded at him and gave Jean a narrow-eyed what-the-hell look.

 

“Would you care for a drink, Jolie?” Jean had his usual brandy; I didn’t see a cup of blood for Adrian.

 

“No thanks. What’s this about?” One drink, and I’d be under the table, snoring and drooling.

 

“Monsieur Hoffman came to me for asylum. Before I granted such a favor, I wished for your counsel.”

 

After being dissed much of the day, I wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or suspicious that anyone would seek my counsel. Or fearful, because Adrian Hoffman spelled trouble, and I had enough already.

 

However, I sat down on the sofa opposite Adrian and reminded myself of how sorry I’d felt for him when he learned his father had conspired with Garrett Melnick to have him turned vampire. He’d sold me out, but he’d been sold out worse. A lot worse.

 

“Better start at the beginning,” I said. “And tell me why I shouldn’t call Zrakovi and turn you in. He’s pissed off at me right now. I’d earn some Brownie points by turning in a wanted man.”

 

Adrian swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing above the collar of his gray band-collared shirt. Silk, with charcoal trousers. Now that I thought about it, he’d always dressed like an urban vamp, even before he became one.

 

He looked at the floor. “I don’t blame you for being angry, DJ. For whatever it’s worth, I am sorry for my part in what happened to you last month.”

 

I sighed. “Look, we were never buddies. We probably never will be. You got caught up in something you never intended, though, and you paid dearly for it. So let’s forget what happened and start over.”

 

“This is as I told you, Monsieur Hoffman,” Jean said, settling in on the sofa next to me. “You did not believe she would help you, but our Drusilla has a generous heart.”

 

Yeah, yeah. Save the flowery speeches for someone who’d slept in the last three days. “So do you, uh … do you know about your father?” I know he had to be angry at his father, but still, the man was dead.

 

“I saw it happen.” His voice trembled, and he kept his gaze fixed on the carpet. “Maybe I could even have stopped it but, God help me, I didn’t.” He closed his eyes. “I didn’t. I let someone kill him, then tear into him like a dog.”

 

Or a wolf. “How’d Jake Warin get mixed up in it?”

 

Adrian looked at Jean and made like a clam.

 

“Drusilla, if Monsieur Hoffman tells us what he knows, he says that his life will be in grave danger,” Jean said. “Therefore, he will not reveal the killer’s name without assurance of his safety.” He leaned back and sipped his brandy. “I wish to know how the other members of the council would view such a thing?”

 

That was a good question. “Well, it depends on who’s involved. All the alliances are shaky right now. Could you provide asylum to Adrian without anyone knowing?” Yeah, there I went, advocating lies and secrecy again. I was hopeless.

 

“Perhaps, if Monsieur Hoffman is willing to live in Old Barataria,” Jean said. “No one who is not trusted by me or loyal to me is allowed to come there now. I have destroyed all but one transport, and have armed men watching it at all times.”

 

I stared at him. It sounded as if Jean Lafitte were preparing for war. “And who are among those trusted and loyal people?”

 

He gave me a small smile. “Other than my men? Jacob and his future wife, certainly. Rene and his father Toussaint. Christof. You, Jolie, and your friend Eugenie. And Adrian, should I determine he is deserving of my protection. No others at this time.”

 

Interesting. Jean already had trusted allies among the fae, the water species, his own historical undead, the loup-garou, and me, a wizard. Eugenie, a human. Plus the vampires, if he took Adrian in. He’d collected quite a ragtag army.

 

“Okay, then, let’s assume you can supply Adrian with protection and that the wizards don’t have to know where he is. How can he help Jake without going before the Interspecies Council?”

 

Adrian cleared his throat. “I’d hoped you would intercede on my behalf.”

 

Suzanne Johnson's books