The prince just got up and walked away. Walked on down Decatur like he was out sightseeing wearing leather pants in seventy-degree weather. I think he might’ve walked into Jackson Square. Maybe he was going to check out the statue of Andrew Jackson? Or maybe he’d cross the street again and try some beignets or coffee mixed with chicory?
And I just sat there, sort of stunned and kind of wanting to laugh. Not the good kind of laugh. I was back to the slightly crazed kind.
What had just happened?
I was trying to comprehend the entire conversation, but the prince getting up and walking away was perhaps the most unexpected part. He didn’t try to force me to go with him. Oh God, was Tink right? Was the prince going to attempt to woo me? Nausea hit me in the stomach, and I might’ve puked a little in my mouth. Was that why he had only creeped me out but didn’t try anything else?
I knew I needed to say something. It was my duty to inform David that the prince was out and about.
Pushing up from the bench, I drew in a deep breath and slid my sunglasses back onto my face. What could I say though? How could I explain to anyone that I’d seen the prince but he hadn’t attempted to harm me? It might be believable if I was any other Order member and not the one who’d chased the prince down and spent one-on-one time with him, getting my ass handed to me. I could say that the prince hadn’t seen me. That wasn’t entirely impossible.
Nervous energy filled me as I waited for the traffic to clear on Decatur. The best thing for me to do was keep my mouth shut, but I couldn’t. I had to warn other members that the prince was out and moving around the city. It was a safety concern. But it was more than that. It was my duty—a duty ingrained in me since birth and I couldn’t deny it.
The Ivy before the whole halfling business would’ve done the right thing, and I was still her.
As I crossed the street, I thought about texting Ren, but I didn’t. Not yet. There was something I needed to take care of first, the reason why I was out in the first place, and that had nothing to do with getting beignets.
I headed northeast on Decatur then turned left on St. Phillips, making my way toward the headquarters of the New Orleans branch of the Order. The twenty minute walk helped slow down my heart rate, but it did nothing to ease the anxiety building within me.
When Mama Lousy’s gift shop came into view, I noticed right off the bat that things had changed. The shop was closed, and since it was Sunday, that was unheard of. The gift shop was really just a front for the Order, selling fake voodoo stuff and yummy pralines. Jerome, a grouchy retired Order member, usually ran the place. I hoped nothing had happened to him. He could be a real dick, but he was kind of a lovable dick.
Dylan was standing outside, leaning against the deep burgundy wall next to the door that led upstairs. To the average passerby, he looked like some strange dude loitering, which meant he blended right in with his dark denim jeans and gray Henley shoved up to his elbows. He was wearing sunglasses and his built arms were crossed over his chest.
My steps slowed as he turned his head in my direction and said, “Oh look, she is alive.”
I arched an eyebrow as I stopped in front of him. Order members weren’t exactly a warm and friendly bunch. Probably had a lot to do with our high turnover rate. Most of us died before you could even get to know someone. Val had been different, though. From the first moment I’d met her, she’d welcomed me while everyone else was standoffish. Another reason why her betrayal cut so deep.
Ren had been different, too.
He was friendly and warm, but he also had wanted to get in my pants from the moment he saw me, and that was straight from the horse’s mouth, so . . .
“Why is the gift shop closed?” I asked.
“Jerome came down with a cold and David didn’t see the point of bringing anyone down for this,” Dylan explained. That made sense. There weren’t a lot of retired Order members around these parts who would want to come in and deal with the public.
“Glad to hear he’s otherwise okay.” I glanced into the dim shop. A few fake skulls sat on a stack of praline boxes.
“You were worried about that old coot?” Dylan laughed. “He’s going to outlive a nuclear war.”
My lips twitched. “Probably. So, what are you doing out here?”
“Fae know our location now since that bitch led the prince here.” Dylan propped a booted foot against the wall. “The door has to be guarded.”
I wanted to point out that one Order member probably wouldn’t be able to stop an ancient, but figured that wouldn’t win me any friends. “Makes sense,” I murmured, reaching for the door.
“Hey.” Dylan stopped me halfway in. “Glad you’re doing okay.”