Eighteen

Despite Cyrus sending us to bed, I found Molly, Gaige, and Charles all piled on my bed when I returned from dropping Baylarian’s original note off with Cyrus in the parlor.

″Chuck might have a concussion. He shouldn’t go to sleep, so we’ve decided to do a team bonding exercise and watch him,” Molly explained.

I almost pointed out that no one had mentioned the possibility of a concussion, but I was glad to have the company. Adrenaline had carried me through most of the night. With that wearing off, reality was setting in. Thanks to Lachlan, Gaige and I had nearly been shot. That asshat knew we were runners and set us up to look like federal agents. Then he’d gone so far as to take a shot at Gaige.

″I can’t believe Cyrus let him go,” I muttered, joining my friends on the bed.

Charles eyes narrowed, and I realized he must’ve already been knocked unconscious by the time things got dicey on the casino boat. Gaige and I took turns filling in the gap for him. Molly had heard the exchange yet still looked outraged when she realized he’d been the one to shoot at Gaige.

″And to think I felt sorry for that little tool,” she muttered.

″Do you think he’s okay?” Charles asked.

Molly stifled a yawn. “Honestly, I don’t care if he’s not. Maybe it’s better if he’s not.”

Hearing her give voice to the same thought I’d entertained earlier gave me chills.

″I’m sure he’s fine, though. Weasels like Lachlan always land on their feet. I’m sure he’s not in the midst of becoming the newest member of a shifter pack or something.” She sighed. “If only fate were so kind.”

″You don’t mean that,” I protested.

″I sort of do.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’d take getting bitten by a werewolf over losing my mind any day.”

I frowned. “Vampires bite people. Werewolves…scratch people? Or are they born with a special gene?”

Molly considered the question as though these were real things that could happen to real people. After a minute, she shrugged. “I’ve heard it both ways. But for our purposes, let’s say scratched. If we don’t see Lachlan again, we’ll assume he got scratched by a werewolf. Not only won’t the people in Paris die, but Lachlan will get to live out his days as a legend. I mean, he would be the first-time traveling werewolf. Every full moon, we can go outside and howl one out for him.”

I stared at my roommate blankly, unsure if there was any correct response to her Gaige-worthy diatribe.

From there, the conversation devolved further into a debate on supernatural beings and their origin stories. At first, I was annoyed that my friends preferred discussing nonsense when we had real mysteries that needed solving. But the further the conversation veered from Baylarian, the more I relaxed. It was nice not to think about my personal issues for a few hours. It felt normal to fight about whether leprechauns were only found in Ireland or only seen by the Irish.

″All I’m saying is that I’ve never seen a leprechaun in Ireland or anywhere else, and I’m part Irish,” Molly said. “If they were real, I’d have a pot of gold by now.”

My head was buzzing with exhaustion, but something she said made me sit up my straight. “Black gold. In the desert,” I muttered. “That’s where Lachlan said he first met Baylarian—hunting black gold in the desert.”

″Actually, he said the old west,” Gaige corrected me.

Charles had started to nod off, but the shift in conversation had him fully awake and alert. “He told you where they met?”

″Just that it was hunting black gold in the old west,” I explained.

″I’m thinking Baylarian is from the wild, wild west. He was probably a train-robber,” Gaige said.

I rolled my eyes. “Lachlan also said Baylarian got into trouble. Enough trouble that he paid someone to jump him through time. The wild west was—well, wild. Lawless. It wasn’t all that hard to run from one town to the next.”

″Your point?” Gaige deadpanned.

″It doesn’t make sense for Baylarian to be from the days of bandits and outlaws,” I replied.

″Unless he isn’t running from the law,” Charles suggested thoughtfully.

I glared at him. “Whose side are you on?”

He smiled. “Yours, obviously.”

Outside, the first rays of morning were tinting the sky gold. I sent Molly and Gaige to the other bedroom to get a few hours of sleep. Charles was sitting up in the center of the bed, head resting against the stack of pillows behind him. He smiled up at me through half-closed eyes, and I hesitated in the doorway.

″I’m really mad at you,” I whispered, taking a few steps closer to the bed. “He could’ve killed you. You understand that, right?”

The smile didn’t falter. “But he didn’t. I’m okay, Stassi.”

″You sound like Gaige.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “And I don’t mean that in a nice way.”

Charles chuckled softly. “I know it was reckless. Just like the decision to come here was reckless. You followed a hunch, and so did I. I know I got lucky.” His expression grew serious. “I took a risk because I knew he wouldn’t kill me.”

I shook my head. “You couldn’t have known that. Lachlan did try to kill Gaige.”

″Lachlan is a pawn. This isn’t about him. It’s about Baylarian and the connection we all share with Tessa.” He patted the bed beside him.

Since I was still annoyed, I retorted, “I’m not a pet.”

Charles hung his head but couldn’t conceal his smile. “I apologize. You’re right. Stassi, will you please join me on the bed?” He made a sweeping gesture with his hand, ending with a great flourish.

My lips twitched, but I refused to let him know I was softening. I did, however, perch on the edge of the quilt.

″He’s taunting us. Like Molly said. But I don’t think it’s just for fun. I think he sent the first note because he wanted us to find the princes. And now he’s sent another because he wants us to find him. He needs something from us, just like we need something from him.”

I blinked a few times. I had asked myself why Baylarian sent the first note—why he would help us on our quest for the princes. But with so much else going on, the mystery had been relegated to the back burner. Was it possible it wasn’t so much a want as a need that drove Baylarian? And what could he have possibly needed so badly to risk so much?

At some point, I must’ve nodded off, because I jumped when Peggy opened the door to say breakfast was being served in the dining room. She smirked and flushed red when she realized I was curled up in Charles’ arms. Peggy hurriedly backed out and closed the door behind her. Clearly not learning from her mistake, she barged into Gaige and Molly’s room without knocking and yelped at the sight that met her young eyes.

Fifteen minutes later, my friends and I trickled into the dining room where Cyrus, Elizebeth, Liza, Victor, and Peggy were seated. The teenager giggled into her plate of scrambled eggs. No one looked rested, and everyone kept refilling their coffee. I helped myself to toast and grits but couldn’t find my appetite to save my life.

Green eyes rimmed in red, Cyrus cleared his throat from the end of the table. All eyes shot in his direction. My boss wrapped both hands around his coffee mug and leaned back in his chair.

″As you all know by now, Lachlan Shepard has provided us with another of Mitchell Baylarian’s aliases.” His eyes traveled slowly around the table. “Possibly even his real name.” He took a sip of coffee and waited while his words sank in. “Last night, I searched our historical records for the name Jack German. Unfortunately, the name appears too many times to make any conclusions at this time.” His gaze landed on me. “I’ll keep looking. This isn’t a dead end.”

Cyrus finished his coffee and took his time refilling the mug. I didn’t realize I’d begun to tap my foot until Charles placed a hand on my knee.

″For right now,” our boss continued. “We are going to focus on another name. Jacque St. Germain. Like at least some of you, I thought it was a strong possibility Jacque St. Germain was a variation of Jack German. I can find no conclusive evidence this is true.” Again, Cyrus was looking in my direction when he added, “Jacque St. Germain does not appear in our historical records.”

″Just like Baylarian,” I said.

Cyrus was grim. “Yes.” His gaze swung to Elizebeth, and he gave a curt nod.

The alchemist wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin and then folded her hands in her lap. “According to local records, Jacque St. Germain paid cash for the house on Royal Street in March of 1919. He threw his first party two months later, in May of 1919, but told his guests he had only just arrived in town.”

″This was also around the time the rumors of a vampire started circulating,” Victor added with no trace of amusement.

″And the time of the Axeman murders,” Liza chimed in.

I set down my fork. “Are you suggesting Baylarian is both a vampire and the Axeman killer?”

″Not exactly,” Cyrus answered. “The Axeman is well documented throughout history. We have no reason to believe Baylarian had anything to do with those murders. The vampire is another story.”

″Words I never thought I’d hear,” Gaige muttered from across the table.

Peggy giggled. Cyrus ignored him.

″The alleged vampire attacks are not part of the historical record,” our boss continued.

″But they are part of the local record,” Elizebeth added, expression dark.

″Just like in Paris,” I said. “The Night Gentlemen was all over the papers, but nothing changed right away in the historical record.”

″It takes time for events to cement in history,” Cyrus agreed carefully. He opened his mouth as though to say more but decided against it. “I do believe St. Germain may be the supposed vampire. I’d like to be certain before Elizebeth sings at his party.”

I whipped around to face the alchemist, blinking in surprise. “You’re still going to go to his party?”

It was Cyrus who answered. “Let’s wait to see how today goes, but I’m leaning toward yes. The timing of the invitation is very convenient. Baylarian wants Elizebeth to attend. We can assume, by extension, the rest of us are also welcome.”

I thought about what Charles had said the night before. Maybe it wasn’t a want so much as a need. I nearly voiced the theory but then reconsidered. Did it really matter?

Gaige raised his hand and waited for Cyrus to acknowledge him. “What’s happening today?”

My boss flashed a smile in my general direction. “Stassi is going to introduce me to the Fontenot family.” His typical serious expression fell into place. “Baylarian wanted you all to find the princes. Maybe they know more than they think they do.”

We drove the Model T over to Kingsley House, Cyrus at the wheel and me in the passenger seat. It was the first time we’d been alone for any stretch of time since I learned about the DNA test. I started to ask him about it several times but lost my nerve before the words would come.

″Something on your mind, Stassi?” Cyrus broke the silence in the car. “No one was seriously injured last night, if that’s what’s bothering you. The prohibition agents made several arrests, but everyone was let go without charges.”

″Good to know,” I said, feigning relief. Truthfully, I was relieved. I had felt like a monster leaving those people who couldn’t swim to fend for themselves. Even more so because I hadn’t given them a second thought until Cyrus brought up the reminder.

″And Lachlan? Did he make it back to whatever hole he crawled out of?” I asked.

Cyrus smiled. “As far as I know. No reports of a body found in the Bayou last night.”

″Good,” I said again, not sure if I truly meant it.

The man formerly known as Prince Edward was not excited to see us in his office. I was surprised he didn’t tell his assistant to call the police, but I supposed he didn’t want to make a spectacle.

″What do you want?” he demanded once the door closed and the three of us were alone. The question was directed at me, but the prince kept eying my boss curiously.

″Cyrus Atlic.” My boss extended his hand.

″Edward Fontenot,” Edward replied with a frown.

″He’s my boss,” I added.

″We’re here about a man named Mitchell Baylarian,” Cyrus began.

Edward held up his hand to cut Cyrus off. “I have already told your associates; I do not know a man called Baylarian. Now if you’ll excuse me, this is my place of business. I would appreciate it—”

″What about Jacque St. Germain?” I interjected.

Edward’s mouth was already forming its next word when he paused and clamped his lips shut.

″You do know him, then?” I guessed.

Edward sat heavily in the chair behind his desk. “I know of him,” he replied after a moment. “I have never met him in person, which I understand is typical of most people in the Quarter”

″How do you mean?” Cyrus asked.

Edward gestured to the set of chairs across from him, and we both sat.

″Jacque St. Germain is a Kingsley House donor. As I understand, it is just one of his many charities,” Edward explained.

″A donor? And you’ve never met him?” It seemed strange on the surface, and yet I routinely donated a portion of my salary to charity and had never once met anyone in charge.

″No, not yet. I have been invited to one of his dinner parties this weekend. He invited several people from each of the causes he supports.”

There was no way Edward and Elizebeth just so happened to be invited to the same party. That couldn’t be a coincidence. I could barely contain my excitement. Cyrus didn’t so much as twitch a muscle.

″What has St. Germain done, exactly?” Edward looked back and forth between us. “I have heard the rumors of his eccentricities. Some even say he’s the vampire everyone has been on about. Surely you all don’t believe he’s immortal?”

″He’s definitely not a vampire,” I replied flatly.

″He is a time traveler,” Cyrus added. “Like all of us.”

″He is the reason we’re here,” I said softly. “I don’t know how, but he knows Tessa. He can help me find her.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cyrus′ jaw tighten.

Edward shook his head. “I don’t see how this pertains to me.”

″When Stassi first arrived, she received a letter from the man we know as Mitchell Baylarian—Jacque St. Germain. That note mentioned you and your brother,” Cyrus explained. He pulled two color photographs from an inside jacket pocket and placed them on Edward’s desk. “Do you recognize either of these men?”

Reluctantly, the prince scooted the pictures closer. “I can’t say I do.” He looked up. “Is one of them St. Germain?”

Cyrus gestured to the photo on the left. “The other man is Lachlan Shepard, though he goes by Billy Williams in this time. He has ties to Sylvestro Carolla. He also happens to be Baylarian’s accomplice.”

Accomplice was a strong word in my opinion. More like a means to an end. Or a sacrificial lamb.

″I see.” Edward slid the pictures back toward us. “I’m sorry. I can’t help you. Aside from the break-in, which I already mentioned, nothing out of the ordinary has happened to me since this because my new ordinary.”

″Break-in?” Cyrus asked.

The prince explained about the cufflinks being stolen. My boss listened without comment.

″Now, I have told you all I know.” Edward stood and motioned toward the door. “If you could see yourselves out.”

His dismissive tone made something inside of me snap. I slammed my palms on his desk.

″No. We aren’t leaving until you help us,” I practically growled.

″I don’t know—” Edward began.

But I plunged forward. “You and I are connected. Tessa gave me my locket just like she gave you and Richard the cufflinks and Charles his pocket watch.” I nearly added that I had been relocated too—that I was another lost royal moved through time. Instead, I said, “I don’t know my birth family. My real family. I don’t even know who they are. I don’t know who I am.”

Cyrus rested a hand on my shoulder. “Stassi,” he warned gently.

″Please, Edward,” I continued, practically pleading with him and ignoring my boss.

The prince studied me for a long minute. “Have you ever considered you’re better off not knowing? Will you still sleep at night once you learn the truth—that your loved ones met a horrible fate? Because I would love to forget watching my uncle beheaded. I would love to go one night without reliving the moment my men were dragged away and executed.”

Was I ready to hear that my parents and sisters and brother had been murdered? I glanced over my shoulder at Cyrus. His slightly flared nostrils and hard-set jaw suggested he was definitely not ready for me to learn what had come of my biological family.

″The worst is the guilt,” Edward went on. “Tessa didn’t just save my life. She gave me a new one. She gave me freedom. That freedom came at a price that my sister Elizabeth had to pay. She became the pawn used to eventually secure the throne for our family. While I became free to live a life of my choosing. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about that. Are you prepared to shoulder such a burden?”

Admittedly, he was doing a pretty good job of talking me out of this wild goose chase through time.

I want to know. No, I need to know.

It was as simple as that. For so long I had floated through life, adrift in a sea of people that I longed to share a connection with but couldn’t. Branson was the first true home I had ever known, and I had found peace and friendship on the island. But as much as I loved Molly and Gaige and even Charles, something was still missing. My story would never be complete unless I learned my true identity.

″I don’t know if I’m ready for any of that,” I conceded. “But I can’t take not knowing any longer. Please, Edward.”

He closed his eyes and sighed like he was already regretting what he was about to say. “What is it you need from me?”

The question shouldn’t have been hard to answer. After all, I had just begged him to help, and he had agreed. Sort of. But how exactly did I expect him to help? I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I looked to Cyrus when a thought occurred to me.

″Did you get a plus one to St. Germain’s party?” I asked Edward.

The prince nodded slowly. “The invitation did include a guest, yes.”

I gave him my most winning smile. “How about taking me on a date?”

My impassioned pleas must have hit a nerve, because Edward didn’t need nearly as much convincing as I had anticipated. He wasn’t jumping for joy at the prospect of our date, but he did agree. And because Cyrus had this way of asking people to do things that were hard to turn down, Edward also agreed to have the head of Kingsley House, Miss Eleanor McMain, take Cyrus to the party.

″That went well, I think,” Cyrus said once we were back in the Model T.

I shrugged. “I guess. I mean, we didn’t really learn anything new.”

″Didn’t we?” Cyrus arched an eyebrow in my direction.

″Is that a trick question?”

The one side of his mouth I could see curved upward. “It wasn’t supposed to be.”

Crossing my arms, I stared out of the passenger window. Had we learned something new from Edward? Did the fact he didn’t recognize Lachlan or Baylarian mean something?

″I guess we learned he was invited to St. Germain’s party,” I said after a minute.

″We did.” Cyrus glanced across the car. “I know you were hoping he would remember more about Tessa.” He waited for a response that I refused to give. “Edward made some good points. The truth isn’t always better than a lie.”

Ask him about the DNA test.

″You might not like what you find out,” Cyrus continued.

Ask him about the DNA test.

But I couldn’t. The opportunity had presented itself on a silver platter. And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to ask the question. Once I opened that door, there was no going back. Maybe I wasn’t ready to hear the truth. Or maybe I was just scared that Cyrus would lie to my face when confronted; that was something I definitely wasn’t ready to face.