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“Hey, Jack-O! Get over here quick! He’s hurt pretty bad!” Gregory screams from the patio. Jackson rushes out the door with Mark and Brae on his tail and Dilano and Alana close behind.
Brian and Dranoel help Aunt Delia to her feet before following the others, leaving just Dalcour and me in the kitchen as Khalil takes his exit through the parlor.
“I guess we should get outside,” I say, needing to end the awkward silence brewing between us.
Jumping in front of the patio door, Dalcour postures himself squarely in my view. “Damina, look before we tackle whatever it is awaiting us outside that door,” Dalcour starts, his voice surprisingly calm. “We need to talk. About last night—”
“It doesn’t matter, Dal. Really. The only thing I’m interested in now is finding Dacari.” I try to peer around Dalcour’s broad frame to see outside, but it is of no use.
“I know that but—”
“But what, Dal? Not only have I learned she is Decaux’s daughter, but we now know he has plans to use her in some supernatural song of enchantment and take over the world! Nothing else matters to me but finding her!”
I want to tell him that he matters. But not now. I have sculpted an impenetrable icy fortress around my heart. I can only hope its coldness is enough to ward off any further overtures from him or Jackson. With what we just learned about Decaux; I can no longer afford to linger in the lure of either man.
“I understand that, Damina. I do. Still, I need to apologize. I should not have treated you the way I did.”
“You’re right. Throwing me in my room was a pretty crutty thing to do.”
“Crutty is right. My actions were brash, I admit. I guess I was simply scared. Seeing you in the CC with all those blood thirsty Scourge and Altrinion vampires everywhere, I just wanted to keep you safe!” Dalcour explains.
“Okay, I understand that Dalcour, but what does that have to do with blocking me out?” I question.
“Blocking you out? Are you kidding me? You are mad because you could not read my mind? You can’t be serious!”
“Yes, I am, Dalcour Marchand! Why are you blocking me out? What do you have to hide from me?”
“Wow, Damina! Well let me ask you a question,” Dalcour says, his face mixed with both awe and annoyance.
“What?” I snap, trying feverishly not to gawk at the way his dew-kissed skin glistens or inhale too much of his aromatic scent.
“Can you read Jackson’s mind?” Dalcour’s question hits below the belt just as he intended. I don’t know whether he can read my mind, but it seems he also wants to push my lustful thoughts aside.
“What? He is a wolf, Dalcour! You know I can’t read his mind!”
“Well, then I guess the playing field is finally fair!” Dalcour smirks with folded arms and a raised brow.
“Fair? How is that fair, Dal? Is what you’re keeping from me that bad?” I insist. His stubbornness is annoying but slightly charming. Oh no! He is sucking me back in!
“It’s fair, Damina, and you know it. I expect you to trust me the same way you trust Jackson. You can’t read his mind, so why should I just be an encyclopedia. I need you to trust that short of me tossing you in a room for your safety, I’d never willingly put you in harm’s way or do anything to deliberately hurt you.” The warmth and sincerity of Dalcour’s words melt the remaining iciness of my heart.
I am a dripping puddle before him.
“Well, Dal, I know that already. I don’t need telepathic powers to tell me that about you,” I say softly as I consider that even Jackson suggested the same of Dalcour last night. “I guess these new powers are throwing me for a loop. I just wish I knew how to control it all. I need to get a handle on it.”
“Okay, well, that I can help you with. That is something we can do—together,” Dalcour says as he takes my hand, pulling me closer to him. “Besides, if we’re going to have any success in finding your cousin, I’ll need you to understand how to use your powers fully.”
“Well... together sounds good. I—I mean you training me is all,” I reply weakly, fearful of looking at him in the eye. I cannot allow him to pull me back in any more than he has already.
“I know what you mean, Beautiful,” Dalcour continues softly, lifting my chin to meet his hauntingly beautiful crimson eyes. “We’ll focus on your cousin for now—but we will get back to the matter of us. Soon.”
“Ah-hem,” Jackson bellows a loud faux cough at the patio entrance. With a clinched jaw, his face is hard, but his bright, golden eyes glow wildly at the sight of me and Dalcour so close. Dalcour issues a small snarl, lowering his hand, and I step away from him and turn my attention to Jackson.
Awkward.
“Damina, Dalcour, there’s someone here you need to see,” Jackson says as he and Mark open both sides of the French patio doors. Shifting his eyes away from us, he blows out a loud sigh before calling out to Gregory. “Bring them in now!”
The uneasiness of the moment quickly dissipates when I see Cal and Lorien drag an injured Perry through the kitchen and prop him against a small dinette table.
“Perry!” I scream, shocked to see Allyson’s boyfriend in such a state. “What happened to you?”
“Hey there, my lady!” Perry says with a quaint smile through bloodied, cracked lips. “It seems you never see me at my best.”
“They got over on him pretty bad, ma’am,” Cal says, patting Perry’s head with an ice pack. “It’s a good thing some poor soul took pity on you, boy!”
“Perry, how did this happen? Is Allyson okay?” I question.
Pushing back to steady himself against the wall, he winces, grabbing his waist and I see bruises along his ribcage with dried blood staining his shirt.
“I told Lord Nashoba they put a pretty bad beating on him. Put a beating on him and left him for dead. All because he got involved with that girl!” Cal exclaims as he tries to keep Perry stable in his seat.
“I tried, my lady. I tried. If I had known she had gotten herself mixed up with them, I would have never let it get this far!” Perry replies.
“Just tell her what happened, big bro,” Lorien adds, lightly pushing Perry’s shoulder.
“The Jadeites. She got mixed up with them, but I swear I didn’t know,” Perry says.
“Someone, please get him some water and a cold towel and bandages!” I shout over my shoulder. Both Dilano and Alana spring into action, aiding Cal with tending Perry’s wounds, and helping him chug down a few gulps of water.
Perry pushes himself upright after helping himself to a few more rounds of water, mustering enough strength to continue. “It seems my alley cat got involved with the Jadeites before we even met. As a matter of fact, I now think that is why we met in the first place, but I can’t prove it. Anyway, one night we were walking back to my place, and we got grabbed and tossed in a van. I was gagged, blindfolded, and woke up days later in a cellar just before the apex of the full moon. They put her in there with me! Waiting for me to shift and wolf out. I fought tooth and nail, begging my wolf to stay dormant while they tortured her—probing her back and forth, question upon question.”
“What did they want to know from her?” Aunt Delia asks as she comes to my side.
“They asked questions about Damina mostly—but a few about Lord Nashoba and your daughter,” Perry responds.
“My daughter?” Aunt Delia exclaims.
“Yep, and that is what got her in trouble. Look, I tell you, she just got in over her head! If I knew then what I do now, I would’ve never—”
“How did Allyson get in over her head?” I question.
“Well, I think originally they only knew about you, my lady. That you existed. They never knew about your cousin. That is until she started spending more time with Allyson after you left. When her dog died, she came looking for you and Allyson was there for her. Afterward, they were inseparable. Allyson and Dacari talked every day and a few times each day from that point. I suppose the Jadeite spies got wind of your cousin and wanted to know more. All Allyson had ever said was that you were an orphan.”
“But that’s not all, is it?” Mark says, grabbing a counter stool and hanging his leg over one side.
“Well, no sir. They knew Lady Damina was an Altrinion,” Perry answers with his eyes lowered in shame. “But it was when they found out about Dacari they became incessant. Once they discovered she was one half of the LeClaire-Peyroux lineage, they were obsessed. You see, both Allyson and Dacari bonded over their apparent daddy issues—or the lack thereof. So, Allyson being Allyson, started looking deep into your family tree. I don’t know how she figured it out, but she came across an Altrinion Vampire named Cade DeLuca who claimed to know of a supernatural child born of all three earthbound bloods.”
“Impossible!” Aunt Delia cries. “When I left Decaux, no one, and I mean no one, knew I was with child. There’s no way Cade DeLuca could have known!”
“Cade has always been a crafty one. If you left even a trace of your truth behind, I do not doubt he knew of her birth,” Dalcour responds in a dry and low tone.
“What happened next, Perry?” Jackson asks.
“Somehow they found out Allyson had been in talks with Cade to get Dacari to him. That was her big mistake! At first, they only wanted Ally to get them Damina. But I guess Allyson had no plans to comply.”
“Explain, Perry. What do you mean they wanted Damina?” Aunt Delia questions, concern filling her face.
“Well, she was supposed to get Damina to them somehow. Instead, Allyson sent Damina here—to my cousin Bessie’s place. The Jadeites were pretty pissed about it too! But you see, they didn’t really know about Dacari. However, they must’ve tapped her phone or something, because when they found out Allyson had sent the child of Decaux Marchand to New Orleans, they were enraged. She betrayed them!”
“Are you saying Allyson isn’t a Jadeite, Perry?” I say, hopefully my friend is not the traitor I fear she’s become.
“Oh she’s a Jadeite all right! You should’ve seen the beating those buffoons gave to some of our pack. As a matter of fact, we didn’t even think you were still alive!” Gregory counters. “The Jadeites might be upset she sent Dacari away, but the fact that she and this lying mongrel were working with them tells us all we need to know!”
“Hey, now! Perry may be a lot of things, but he said he had no idea Allyson had any dealings with these Jadeites. She tricked him! He’s as much a victim here as anyone else—I mean, look at him!” Cal shouts back at Gregory over his shoulder while still tending Perry’s wounds.
Walking closer to Perry, I kneel near Lorien so that Perry and I have eye contact. Although I know I cannot read his mind, I need to look him in the eye to tell truth from a lie on my own.
“Is that true, Perry? Did you know anything about this?” I ask.
Gazing up at me, Perry cracks a weak smile and a small twinkle shimmers in his eyes. “I promise you, my lady, I did not. I honestly thought she cared about me. Truly, I did. Truth is, I think the Jadeites sent her to the lair I’d been a part of just so she could get close to a lone Dunes like me. I guess that’s what I get for not keeping with den rules, huh?” Perry looks over to Jackson and Mark before lowering his head as shame further mars his countenance.
“None of that matters now, Perry. I’m only glad you’re okay,” I reply quietly with a light hold of his knee.
“I’m afraid it does matter, Damina. We can’t just let this slide! He’s a traitor!” Gregory exclaims.
“What?” I snap back. I am growing tired of Gregory’s self-righteous stance.
“Didn’t you just hear this man? He got beaten down and somehow the first thing he managed to do is to come and tell us the truth! You Prime Alphas are all the same—always on your moral high horse, yet you do nothing when it comes down to it!” Brian yells at Gregory.
The room erupts in an uproar of snarls and rumbling shouts between Gregory, Brian, and Cal.
“Stop it!” Jackson roars, pushing a stool across the kitchen floor, halting their clamoring. “Listen, none of this matters now! Mark Perry is of your parish. You deal with him as you please. For now, we must focus all our efforts on finding Dacari. She alone is our priority. Now, Perry, do you have any idea where they may have taken Allyson?”
“No, my lord. I was knocked out cold and dumped along the river. Thankfully, some late-night gator enthusiast found me along the River Bayou when I came to. The last thing I recall is seeing the Jadeites striking Allyson in the face before telling her she’d pay severely for not turning Damina in and for keeping Dacari a secret,” Perry answers in a low and solemn tone.
“Dranoel,” Dalcour begins, “Please take Perry down to the CC and so that he can get his wounds fully healed. Allow him to help himself to anything that would speed his healing. We’ll need his help when the time comes.”
Dranoel nods his head in courtesy but defers his glance to both Jackson and Mark. “My lords?” He questions.
“Oh for mercy, Dranoel!” Dalcour protests. “Am I not still the keeper of my own vineyard? Does the consent of Lord Nashoba now outweigh my own—in my house?”
“He does what is right,” Jackson counters with a husky growl. “Mark is his alpha as am I his Prime. I know you vampires know nothing of order or etiquette, so let this be an education!”
Dalcour rushes toward Jackson, but I step in between both men, placing my hands on their chests. A tingling jolt of energy springs through me, halting their motion. While a part of me is in awe of having both men at a standstill by nothing but the touch of my fingertips, a bigger part of me is more amazed at how the pacing of their hearts slows with the light tap of my hand.
Jackson rumbles a low snarl as he works to restrain himself while Dalcour grinds his teeth with his narrowed eyes set sharply on my once betrothed, daring him to flinch.
“Stop it, you two!” Aunt Delia shouts. “Can either of you stop behaving like cavemen for a moment? Or at least long enough to find my Dacari. After you both can return to your brute behavior!”
“She’s right,” I say softly, gazing back and forth at both men.
Jackson pulls back slowly, casting a longing stare at me while softening his stance. Dalcour, on the other hand, remains in place as he observes Jackson’s retreat. His posture is still stiff as he keeps his chest pressed into my palm, but it is the familiar cadence of his heartbeat that lets me know he is working to restrain his inner beast; and for that I am thankful.
Turning to Mark, Jackson blows out a lengthy sigh as he leans against the kitchen island, extending his hand toward Mark.
Mark stares awkwardly between Dalcour and Jackson before walking closer to Perry and Cal. “Jackson is right,” Mark begins. “Your actions and connection with this Allyson character could have caused even more calamity. However, it is evident you are both remorseful and had no direct part to play in the plan of the Jadeites. For that you are pardoned.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Perry answers, dipping his head in submission.
“Still,” Mark continues, looking over his shoulder at both Jackson and Brian. “You did cross state lines without permission and removed an Altrinion from the protection of the Primes. For that you will be subject to a tribunal hearing.”
Gasps echo throughout the kitchen, and Cal and Lorien stand in front of Perry in both defense and protest.
“A tribunal!” Lorien shouts. “There has not been one in this parish in decades! The last one didn’t end well—you Beta Primes—your father Abraham had our father killed because of your tribunal!”
“What? Wait? I don’t understand,” I cry, rushing to Mark’s side. “Mark, please this isn’t necessary. Perry was only helping me leave because Allyson told Perry and Bessie that I had been abused,” I plead, pulling his arm.
“Hold on,” Jackson says, jumping between me and Mark. “Damina, is this true?”
“Yes, Jack. I—I am sorry. I didn’t tell Allyson that, but that is what she told Bessie to get her and Melvina’s help.” I reply. I knew this would come to back to bite me at some point.
Jackson’s eyes fall at my admission and the room grows eerily quiet. “Damina, I know I hurt you that night, but we both know I would never lay a finger on you,” Jackson whispers as he runs his thumb like a feather across my face.
“I know, Jack. I know,” I say softly, leaning into his palm as a lone tear falls past my cheeks. Watching the hurt in Jackson’s eyes is painful.
“She is right, my lords,” Cal interjects. “When Ms. Allyson called my wife to seek accommodations for Ms. Nicaud, this was what we were all lead to believe.”
“Lord Nashoba,” Dalcour says gently, his tone returning to the more respectful manner the two shared at my awakening. “Calvin speaks the truth. Bessie’s Tavern has long been a shelter for battered women. That is well known in the Quarter. Even I thought the same of Damina when we first met.”
Jackson’s thumb presses firmly into my cheeks as he stares at me with a tender gaze. His nose twitches as Dalcour speaks and I know that while this information is helpful, there isn’t much Dalcour can do to rein in Jackson’s growing antipathy for him.
Pulling his hand slowly from my face, he turns back to Mark and Perry. “Mark, if it was by Allyson’s pretense that Perry committed these actions—if he only did so to protect her—protect an Altrinion—I will forgive this action.”
“Thank you! Thank you, my lord!” Both Lorien and Cal profess with bowed heads as Perry nods in agreement.
“However,” Jackson continues. “As part of your valuation, you may still conduct a tribunal.”
“What! I thought you pardoned Perry, my lord?” Dranoel asks, as he places a hand at Brian’s chest who growls deeply in protest.
“I did, Sir Dranoel. Perry is pardoned. I wasn’t referring to him,” Jackson answers.
“Then for who, my lord?” Mark questions, puzzled.
“For my brother. Keiron. It is time he meets his judgement,” Jackson replies, and the entire mansion stands quiet.