Fleur de Nuit: Bourbon Street Bondage, Book 1 (24 page)

Moira smiled. “Thank you, Maître Toussaint. I do like it.”

Toussaint smiled. “And Kara, beautiful as ever. Still running free?” His dark fingers traced the pale skin at her neck, and she trembled.

Kara’s eyes flickered to Moira before returning to the floor. “For now, Sir.”

Toussaint cocked his head and gave Moira a look that made her shiver. “Intéressant.”

The crowd roared again as the song changed to Rihanna’s “S&M”. The noise level rose higher as they all began to sing along. Toussaint rolled his eyes. “Every fucking night.” He sighed. “But they love it.”

Moira raised her eyebrow. “Apparently.”

Marcelle reached up to whisper in Toussaint’s ear and he smiled. “Go on then. Let’s find a place to chat, shall we?” he added, turning to Adrian. He didn’t wait for a reply but led them back into the dark corner he’d come from. The black wall turned out to hide a corridor that held a set of stairs, leading up to an office above the dance floor.

Toussaint shut the door behind them, dulling the noise considerably. He pulled off his mask and top hat, and sat. “The windows are one-way. There are two VIP lounges on the other end that are the same. We’ll head over there shortly. I have a few candidates for you, Adrian. Including that novice you sent over.”

Adrian smiled. “That would be your Mr. Boudreaux, mon ange.”

“Oh, good for Landry. What did you think of him?”

A faint smile played at Toussaint’s lips. “J’approuve. I like him. He has potential.” He lifted a decanter and poured himself a finger’s worth. “Whiskey?”

“Oui, I thought you’d never ask.”

Kara took the decanter without a word and poured a glass for Moira and Adrian.

“You may have some as well, chère Kara, so long as Maître Lacroix agrees?” Toussaint glanced at Adrian, who nodded. “S’il vous plaît. Enjoy.”

Kara smiled and splashed a bit in a tumbler for herself, before turning to take a seat on the floor. But instead of sitting at Adrian’s feet, she paused and sat between him and Moira. Moira reached out to run a finger down Kara’s face and found Adrian and Toussaint exchanging a look.

Moira narrowed her eyes. Her mouth opened with a question on the tip of her tongue, but Marcelle returned before she could ask. The blonde made a straight line for Toussaint, who listened intently before rising.

“Seems your candidates have all arrived. Shall we?”

Toussaint replaced his mask and hat before leading them out the door and back down the stairs. “Time to make another appearance below.” He stepped out onto the floor and the crowd roared. He leaned back, arms extended to the sides, and shouted, “Laissez le bon temps rouler! Dance, my children!” He finished with a riotous laugh. Deep and rolling, it seemed to start in his toes and grow as it traveled through him.

When Toussaint moved forward again, laughter still playing at his lips, the sea of bodies parted a wide berth around him.

At the other end of the building was a door, guarded by another of Toussaint’s hulking bouncers in leather pants, who stepped aside as soon as he saw them coming. Toussaint tipped his hat to the man with a grin and stepped through the black door.

The room beyond was bigger than Moira expected, and partially divided. One-way glass covered the main wall from knee-high to ceiling. The other walls held every type of sex toy and bondage device Moira could imagine, and several she couldn’t.

She snagged a finger in Kara’s laces, pulling her close. “Is that a…?”

Kara looked up and grinned. “Fucking machine. Yeah. Crude but effective. I prefer the real thing, personally, but…” She shrugged, finishing her sentence with silence.

Moira laughed quietly. “The things people come up with.”

The room had a number of people in it, several dozen at least. Waiters and waitresses in collars and chains and little else walked from guest to guest, eyes down and silver trays held high. Their faces were painted with the same bone half mask that Toussaint wore. The guests themselves milled around, ignoring their entrance until Toussaint slammed his cane on the hardwood floor, making the room ring with the sound.

“Mesdames et Messieurs, welcome to La Danse Macabre. As the public face of New Orleans kink, we stand as les gardiens to the real underground, run by our Maître Lacroix. But as a community, we are always looking for new faces to bring into the night. You are here to see if you might be a good fit.”

A blond man wearing all leather stepped forward with a self-assured grin. “So what is this, tryouts? We’re auditioning for the chance to what, beat people? Fuck them senseless? I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t need an audition for that. I fuck who I want, when I want and how I want. And I don’t need your permission.”

Toussaint gave him an expressionless look and said nothing, until Moira could see the man squirming where he stood. And then Toussaint began to laugh, a low, menacing sound.

The man shifted on his feet and looked around. “I mean, I—”

“What is your name?”

He swallowed. “Doug Fairley.”

“Monsieur Fairley. In our world, respect is paramount. And you have just proven that you don’t belong. I would appreciate it very much if you would leave, and not return.”

“Now wait a minute, I—”

His words cut off sharply as Toussaint raised his cane and looked down, tapping it against his hand once. “I don’t like to repeat myself, monsieur.”

Fairley snarled to himself and stalked past them, out of the room. Toussaint looked at Marcelle, who bounded out of the room after him. The rest of the guests murmured quietly.

Moira stole another glance at Kara, who leaned in again.

“He does this every time. Picks someone he knows will make a fuss. It sends the message clearly, what’s acceptable and what’s not.”

“Makes sense, I guess.”

Toussaint cleared his throat. “Now, where were we? Ah yes—”

He continued, but Moira was distracted by one of the bouncers, who crept up to Adrian and whispered in his ear. Adrian’s face went white then shut down completely. His body practically radiated sudden anger.

“Maître Toussaint, I’m sorry, but I’m afraid we have to cut the evening short.” He waved to the bouncer, who whispered in Toussaint’s ear. “Mon ange, Kara, ma petite, I am truly sorry, but we’ll have to return another time.”

Moira’s confusion kept her rooted to the spot. She watched as Adrian and Toussaint conferred, and then turned back to them, practically shooing them out. “Adrian, what’s going on?”

“Not here, mon ange.”

“Adrian, you’re worrying me.”

Adrian stopped for a moment and gave her a look that broke her heart. “Mon ange, please. Moira. I will explain everything back at the house. Please trust me.”

She stared at him for a moment and then nodded. “Always.”

“Merci. Viens. Kara?” He hesitated then whispered something. Kara nodded and turned around. “She will meet us at the car.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

The ride back to Adrian’s passed in a grim silence. The silence ate at Moira, stealing her hard-won confidence. This pensive, angry man across from her wasn’t the Adrian she knew, and it scared her.

Once they arrived back at the house, he hustled them all inside with an odd urgency, which he maintained all the way up to his office.

Another shock awaited them there.

“Gideon, mon frère, merci. You’ve met Kara Deschamps, and this is Moira D’Arcangelis.”

Moira stared at the dark man she’d seen Adrian conferring with. Up close, he was even more intimidating. He towered over her and looked down with deep, brooding eyes that gave nothing away. “Kara. Good to see you. Moira, Gideon St. Sauveur. I wish the circumstances were better. I’m sorry to pull you away from the evening festivities.”

His deep, rumbling voice carried a crisp, upper-class English accent. Moira couldn’t reply. Instead, she took the hand he offered her in introduction and said the only thing she could. “Adrian, what’s going on?”

Adrian sighed and collapsed with a sudden defeated look. “Mon ange, I am so very sorry.”

Gideon cleared his throat. “You’ll have to excuse Adrian. He’s always had a flair for the dramatic. I’m afraid your apartment was broken into tonight, and set on fire.”

Moira collapsed, the blood draining from her face. Her apartment, her
life
.

Oh God. He knew. He knew, and that’s why he made us stay with him. Because, because…

Panic froze her heart, even as Kara shot out of her chair. “What?”

Adrian wiped his face. “Fortunately, I had Devon pick up most of your things today.”

Kara was furious. “You knew something like this would happen?”

Of course he did. I can’t— He—

Gideon poured two glasses of bourbon and sat after handing one to Moira. “We suspected it might, or something like it.”

“Oh my God, Tony!” Moira couldn’t think about her own place, but the thought of Tony’s shop made her sit up.

“Easy, mon ange. They caught the fire in time.”

The words that had come so easily a moment before escaped her now. “How?”

Gideon gave Adrian a look and took a sip. “I had a man watching. He saw the flames and called the fire department. The sprinklers protected it enough until they arrived. But while his shop survived, I’m afraid your apartment is unlivable for now.”

Moira couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. She knew what it meant. She
knew
. With a shake of her head, she knocked back the bourbon in one gulp.

Kara, on the other hand, was livid. “What do you mean you thought something like this might happen?”

“Kara, please, sit. Mon ange, Justin Surley was released on parole two weeks ago. A week ago, he missed checking in with his parole officer.”

Moira froze, paralyzed, while the bourbon threatened to come back up the way it came.

No. She’d known, really. She’d always known he’d find her again, but couldn’t admit it, couldn’t say his name.

No.

“How the fuck did that bastard get out? He killed a woman. He nearly killed Moira. And why didn’t she know he was out?”

Adrian sighed. “I am so very sorry. His lawyer somehow managed to get him out on early parole. From what I have been able to find, they couldn’t track mon ange down to notify her. Her father—”

“Her father is an asshole, and wouldn’t have told them where she was, even if he knew. Which he doesn’t. Thank God you were keeping tabs on him. Fuck.” Kara sank down next to Moira and grabbed her hand, but Moira was too numb to respond, a single word stuck on repeat in her head.

No. No. No. No.

“You’ll be safe here, mon ange. Gideon and I will make sure of it.”

No.

Gideon nodded. “I have men searching the Quarter for him. He won’t be a threat much longer.”

No.
“I saw him.”

Everyone froze and looked at Moira.

Hysterical laughter bubbled up from inside her, and she had to clamp a hand over her mouth to stop it. “I thought it was over. That was stupid of me. I should have realized the moment I saw him. It won’t be over, not until he’s dead, or I am.”

“Mon ange, we won’t let him get—”

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “No.” A bubble of laughter escaped before she could shove the hysteria away again. “No. I won’t be a prisoner. I won’t go through that again. I spent the last eight years hiding.”

“Moira, he means to kill you.”

She glared at Gideon. “I have no doubt of that. But I won’t—”

“Moira.” Kara’s hand grasped her own, cutting off her tirade before it could begin. “Please. Nobody wants you to hide. But I need you safe.” A tear ran down her cheek, tearing Moira apart. “I can’t lose you.”

Moira dropped her head to rest against Kara’s. The silent
no
s continued their repetitious litany in her head while she strained to sound sane. “You won’t.” She leaned in, sealing her promise with a kiss. It took all her effort to pull away and turn back to Adrian. “What’s the plan? I won’t hide. I want this over, if I have to kill the bastard myself.”

Gideon laughed. “I like this one, Adrian.”

Adrian gave his friend a look before turning back to Moira. “You’ll both stay here. The police have been notified in Virginia and made aware of the situation here, but I’m afraid they’re already stretched thin with Mardi Gras. If you must go out, you won’t be alone. Myself or Devon will most likely accompany you. Kara?”

“He said, whatever you need. What did he mean?”

“Bon. Your young Mr. Boudreaux has also agreed to help.”

Moira’s brows pulled together. “No. I won’t have him roped into this. It’s dangerous.”

Adrian gave her a sympathetic look. “Ma chère, he’s a Marine. That young sergeant survived two tours in the Middle East. He’s likely seen worse danger, and he agreed knowing the risk.”

Moira sat back, suddenly tired. “Fine. If you don’t mind, I think I’d like to go to bed.”

Adrian nodded, and she stood, pulling Kara up with her.

She turned back at the door. “Thank you. Both of you.” She stepped out of the room without waiting for an answer, and pulled Kara into the darkness, thinking a thousand things and voicing none of them. When they reached the tower room, Kara looked drained and worried. But she opened her arms wide, and Moira fell into them. She held her there tightly for what seemed like an age, while Moira sobbed her eyes out.

Moira woke screaming.

The familiar and unfamiliar darkness wrapped her in a panic too thick to penetrate, and the hands that grasped at her only fueled it.

He’s here. Oh God, he’s here.

He’s going to kill me.

The words played like a litany in her head, repeating over and again, with only a single thought breaking through them.

Run.

She could run. She had to try.

Noise battered at her head, more hands reached out for her, catching her. She struggled, desperate, but they held her tight.

Moira felt arms wrap around her, trapping her, and then a prick, a sting.

No! No, please no…

And then there was nothing.

“I don’t know, Adrian. I haven’t seen her this bad since it happened.”

Kara.

Moira’s eyes wouldn’t open. They felt stiff and stuck, and everything felt fuzzy. But she recognized Kara’s voice.

“She’ll be all right, ma fille. No one can blame her for having a moment. Her mind dealt with the news best it could.”

News?

Oh God. My apartment.

He’s here.

“You have to fix this, Adrian. I don’t care what it takes, what shady connections you and Gideon have to tap. Fix it. I can’t watch this destroy her, not again.”

Silence fell, and Moira slowly became more aware, her body less overwhelmingly heavy. The bed sagged next to her, and a minute later she managed to finally pry open her eyes.

“Kara.” The name came out croaked and broken, but it was enough. Kara’s head flipped around to look at her.

“Oh honey. I’m so glad you’re awake. How do you feel?”

Still wrestling with herself, Moira grunted, or tried to. “…happened?”

“You freaked out in the middle of the night. You were screaming to wake the dead and flailing everywhere. None of us could break through, so Adrian tranked you.”

“…remember.” She cleared her throat, finally understanding the limp heaviness that weighed her down. “I don’t really remember.” Her eyes finally managed to focus on Kara’s face, and with some effort, she brought her hand up to touch her.

Something white stopped her.

Moira blinked, but the white that covered her forearm stayed.

“You took out the vase with your arm. You were all over the place, and bleeding. Devon had to come in and hold you down so Adrian could knock you out.” She took Moira’s hand and held it against her cheek. “God, you scared me.”

“…so sorry, Kara.”

Kara shook her head. “Get some sleep, okay?”

Moira made a noise. “Stay?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”