House of the Rising Sun (24 page)

“Yes, I was. Just… a lot going on.” He took the list, then opened the door a little wider. “Come in.”

She hadn’t expected the invite. “I was just going to drop that off.”

“These names don’t tell me anything about the person. I need to go over this with you and ask questions.”

Sighing and not caring what he thought, she stepped inside. “For the record, I’m against this.”

He frowned. “Going over the list? Or coming in? Afraid someone will see you fraternizing with the enemy?”

She almost said yes, then caught herself. “I’m against you asking for a list of coven members who
might
be performing prohibited types of magic and I’m against my father agreeing to it.”

“True to type, then.” He walked down the hall, crooking his finger for her to follow.

She followed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” The room they went in was a library about three times the size of her father’s, but there was no way the books in here held the kind of power her father’s did.

Augustine slid the pocket doors shut after she entered. “It means it’s what I expected of you. You’re the rebellious daughter. You clearly don’t like the rules the Elektos have imposed on your people. I’d have been far more surprised if you’d thought the list was a good idea.” He sat and tore the envelope open, then slipped the paper out and started reading.

She sat on the couch opposite him, looking around the room while she waited. From the books to the paintings to the objets d’art, the place dripped in valuables. A glass case against one wall caught her eye. It was illuminated from above and the book within seemed to glow in that way of old books made of onionskin paper. Augustine was still reading, so she got up to take a closer look.

The glass reflected her face back at her, the shock in her eyes plainly visible. “Is this real?”

“Yes.”

The voice came from directly beside her and she jumped. Augustine was no longer on the couch but right next to her. Damn his fae quietness. She turned, using the move to put a little distance between them. Her finger tapped the glass. “You’re telling me this is a genuine Gutenberg Bible?”

He nodded. “Livie loved books and this was one of her favorites.”

“They’re extremely rare. And very expensive.” A million dollars? Maybe more? She wasn’t sure about the amount, just that it was very high. But nothing compared to the power in such a thing.

“I think she loved it more for its rareness and content than its value.” He held the list up, the paper folded the way it had been in the envelope. “The New Orleans Circle is nearly five hundred members with what, twice as many novices waiting to be confirmed? There are
twenty-nine
people on this list.” His gray-green eyes darkened. “I’m sure your father told you what I would do if I didn’t get this list.”

“He did, but you got the list.” She crossed her arms. “And making good on that threat? Not really a road you want to go down. Pulling licenses makes for a good scare tactic, but in reality it will only create enemies. And it won’t stop any of us from practicing.” She tipped her head and smiled sweetly. “You don’t want to be
that
Guardian, do you?”

He stepped into her personal space, his gaze pinning her to the spot. “I’m already
that
Guardian. If I don’t get the corrected list by nine tomorrow morning, your license will be revoked by one minute after. Am I clear?”

She snatched the paper from his hand. “Clearly insane.” She marched away from him, glad she’d kept her coat on.

He followed her into the hall. “I have murderers to find. Maybe you don’t get that.”

She spun to face him. “You have vampires to find. We’re witches. There’s a difference. Or maybe
you
don’t get
that
.”

He opened his mouth to say something, then abruptly turned to look at the big mirror hanging on the wall beside them. “Do you smell that?”

“What?”

He moved toward the gaudy gold mirror. “Lemon verbena. Her scent.” His fingers traced the outside edges of the frame.

“Who?”

“Olivia Goodwin.” But he was focused on the mirror, staring into it like he could see beyond the glass.

She held her tongue and took a closer look. Something was off about the mirror. The glass wavered like it had a watery depth to it. Like you could stick your hand into it almost. Something shadowy darted through the main field of vision. She jerked back. “What magic is this? Who bespelled this glass?”

He looked at her. “Why? Tell me what you see.”

The desperate longing in his eyes almost undid her. “I can’t see anything, but I can tell that this mirror is more than it seems. Like something is trying to get out.” Telling him more would only lead to questions she couldn’t answer. “Is this mirror a portal to somewhere? This is gray magic at best. You shouldn’t play with it.”

Annoyance erased the longing. “I’m not playing. I am trying to help a friend.” He ran his hands over the nubs of his horns. “Out. Please. I have work to do. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

She backed toward the door, sketching a sarcastic bow. “As you wish, Guardian.”

But her insolence was lost on him. He was already leaning into the glass and whispering something she couldn’t quite hear.

Whatever that mirror was, it was important to Augustine. She put her hand on the doorknob. Something he wouldn’t
want damaged or destroyed. The kind of thing that might make a valuable bargaining chip. She stored that away and smiled as she walked out of the house.

He’d better think twice before revoking her license. Glass was very fragile. A mirror that large could be broken so easily.

H
arlow dragged herself out of bed, the seductive scent of coffee too much for her to ignore, and pulled some clothes on. Not even eight o’clock yet. After her late night, she’d expected to sleep longer, but the excitement of finally knowing who her father was wouldn’t let her rest.

She’d worked well into the early morning, scouring the Web for information on Joseph Branzino and hardly finding much more than when she hadn’t known her father’s name. For someone with her skills, that could mean only two things. One, he was one of those very rare people who truly had no interest in social media or publicity and had managed to maintain a nearly infinitesimal online presence. Or, two, his lack of online presence was carefully cultivated by a team of erasers, which seemed much more plausible.

Considering Branzino’s claim of being a businessman, she chose to believe the latter. It made sense. Very wealthy people often hired erasers to protect them from the kinds of electronic mischief so blatant online these days. It had been worse before the Great War, when electricity was less expensive and connectivity almost an innate right.

But even consciously believing that was a little tricky. She’d done some erasing work herself. Whoever he’d hired was good. As good as she was. And she was
really
good. She’d yet to meet an eraser better than her, one that didn’t leave some tiny trace of info, some little footprint that led her to a back door
somewhere. An overseas bank account. A dummy corporation.
Something.

Branzino had none of that. The best she could unearth was the names of his two sons.

Sons.

Her half brothers. She stopped in the middle of the stairs on her way down to the kitchen. Was it possible one of her half brothers had the same computer ability she did? That would explain so much. She started moving again, hitting the floor with new questions.

If one of her half brothers was as computer-savvy as she was, what exactly was Branzino hiding? Nothing, she told herself. Because that’s what she wanted it to be. Even though she’d been wrong about thinking her father was human, too. That revelation had scoured away part of her dream about who her father was. She wasn’t ready to let any more of that dream go yet.

“Morning.” She sailed past Augustine and Lally on her way to the coffeepot.

“You’re chipper this morning.” Augustine slid the creamer toward her spot at the table.

“Sarcasm isn’t pretty on you,
Augie
.” She took the first sip black just to get herself started.

He grinned. “Did you just call me pretty,
Harley
?”

Lally laughed and set a big bowl of grits on the table. “Y’all sure you wouldn’t rather eat in the dining room?”

“I’m fine here.” Harlow looked at Augustine. He
was
pretty, but that didn’t give him leeway to give her a nickname. “Don’t call me Harley.”

“I’ll try to remember that, Harley.” His eyes glittered with the kind of impudence that told her she shouldn’t have said anything. He gave her one last look before turning to Lally. “Are we in your way if we eat breakfast in here?”

“Lands, no.” She added another plate of scrambled eggs and
sausages, which Augustine wasted no time digging into. “I like having you in here,” Lally added. “It’s cozy.”

Harlow sat. Before she could reach for the grits, Augustine picked up the bowl and held them out to her. “Thanks.” She took a small spoonful, wishing it was hash browns. “Did my mother always eat in the dining room?”

“Usually.” Lally took her seat at the end of the table. “Your mama was real traditional about that kind of stuff, but not so much that she didn’t usually ask me to join her.”

Harlow nodded. “It’s nice to know that she broke the rules sometimes. I wish she’d done that for me.” She pretended not to notice the look Lally exchanged with Augustine.

“Have you decided to stay in New Orleans?” Augustine asked.

“I don’t know.” Now would be a good time to talk to him about Branzino’s offer, since he was in a good mood. “I have a lot of bills to pay at home and I need to get back there soon.”

He nodded, chewing. “Can’t you work here?”

“I could, but I have some obligations there I have to take care of.” She could work from anywhere, if she didn’t have time to serve. In fact, she’d found a few new job requests in her inbox after her search for info on Branzino.

“So go home, take care of these obligations and come back.” He got up for more coffee. “Move in here and let the estate take care of your bills.”

If he only knew just how big a bill she had hanging over her. “I have to go home one way or the other. I can’t leave all my stuff there.” Not that her stuff was worth much. Other than the rest of her computer equipment and her collectables, the other things in her apartment—furniture and odds and ends—were easily replaced. Or in a house like this, no longer necessary.

Augustine nodded. “I have to run out this morning, but we can talk about it more when I get back.” The doorbell chimed.
“I’ll get that, Lally,” he said. “It’s for me anyway. And ahead of schedule. I like that. Maybe I can get back from my errand a little earlier than expected.” He set his cup down and went to the door.

She went back to eating, but a moment later, Augustine called for her, his voice edged with dislike. “Harlow, it’s for you.”

She excused herself and left the kitchen. Branzino stood in the doorway. She walked toward him, wondering what, if anything, he’d said to Augustine.

Branzino smiled at her. “Morning, sweetheart. Sorry to bother you so early, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He shrugged. “I was hoping we could talk some more.” He held his hat in his hands. “If you want me to leave, just say so—”

“No, no, come in. We can go in the library again.” After last night’s search, she had questions that needed answering before she made any life-changing decisions. He might be willing to give her the money she needed, but with what strings? “You want some coffee?”

“Sure, that would be nice. Black.” He lifted his hat toward the library doors. “I’ll just wait for you in there.”

Augustine moved out of the way as Branzino passed. He clearly wasn’t happy, but what could he say? This
was
half her house.

She went back to the kitchen for the coffee, Augustine hot on her heels.

“I don’t like that guy,” he hissed.

She poured a new cup. “You don’t have to like him. He’s not your family, he’s mine.”

Lally interrupted. “What’s going on? Who was at the door?”

“Branzino. Again.” Augustine sat back down at the table and stabbed a fork into his eggs.

Lally made a disapproving noise, but Harlow took the coffee and left before the discussion went any further. Who cared
what they thought? This man was too important to ignore until she had more information.

He stood near one of the windows when she went in. She nudged the doors shut with her elbow, then brought his coffee to him.

He took it with a smile. “Nice collection of goods you got in here.”

She had more important things to discuss. “Yes, Olivia was a big collector. Why don’t we sit?”

“Sure, sure.” He gestured for her to go ahead of him to the seating area. “How are you this morning?”

“Fine.” She sat in one of the high-backed chairs. No one could sit by her that way. She let him drink a little of his coffee and make small talk a few more minutes. She needed him comfortable. Finally, she smiled to look as lighthearted as possible and asked the first question. “Tell me about my half brothers. What are they like? What do they do?”

“They work for me in the business. Michael does mostly… hands-on kinds of things. Works with the product, as it were. Teddy, he’s my youngest, he’s more of an office guy.”

There was her opening. “An office guy? Like an accountant?”

“Not exactly, although he’s good with numbers. He takes care of all our computer stuff. Inventory lists, stuff like that.”

“He must be really good at it.”

A flicker of something crossed Branzino’s face. “What makes you say that?”

She laughed, more out of nervousness than anything else. “I tried to find out a little more about you last night, but your online presence isn’t just clean, it’s almost nonexistent. For someone running a business, that’s a rare thing these days. Even for the ordinary user, there’s usually some kind of social media presence. Something.”

His jaw flexed. “I’m a private person. And I’m wealthy. I don’t like people knowing more about me than necessary.”

“I understand that.” She nodded for emphasis. “I really do.”

As if sensing she was about to ask more questions, he spoke quickly. “How’s it going with the house? Did you come to terms with Augustine? It’s not as though he needs to live here, is it? I understand he’s the city’s new Guardian. Odd thing, these Haven cities, but people seem to like them. Too many rules for me.” He smiled. “I like my freedom.”

“I haven’t had a chance to talk to him about it. In truth, I’m not sure what I want to do yet.”

He made a face. “You would stay here and share what’s rightfully yours? Or would you run home with nothing to show for your inheritance? You have bills to pay. No house of your own. I’m offering you a new start. A way to keep your freedom.”

How did he know so much about her? A tiny vibration of fear worked along her spine, the same feeling she got when she was hacking her way into a system rife with security bots. “Like I said, I don’t know yet. But I’ve been alone all my life. I’m used to making decisions on my own and I’ll figure this one out, too.”

He stood and paced toward the door. “That’s just it. You’re not alone anymore. You have me to help you. You can lean on me. Rely on me.” He turned to walk back and thumped his chest. “I am not a man who makes promises lightly.”

“But I don’t know what kind of man you are, and I feel like you’re rushing me to make this decision.” She wasn’t about to be bullied into anything by anyone, family or otherwise.

“I’m your father. Don’t penalize me because your mother wouldn’t let me into your life.” His tone grew dangerously low. “And this decision is an easy one. Buy the fae out and then I’ll pay you whatever you want for the house.” He bent forward, standing over her in a way that made her skin itch. “Your money
issues will be over for the rest of your life and the house won’t have to leave the family.”

“You want to buy the house?” This was new information.

He straightened and adjusted his tie. Then, like it was an afterthought, he smiled. “Something like that, yes. I’ve given it some thought and I feel that it’s time to diversify my investments. This house would make a wonderful bed-and-breakfast, don’t you think? It would stay in your name, of course. That would allow the company to pay you a wage and make it worth your while.”

“That’s… interesting.” Why would an importer/exporter from Chicago want to own a B&B in New Orleans? And leave it in her name?

“When I say a wage, I mean the kind of money that would allow you to pursue whatever it is your heart desires. You’re my daughter. I want to spoil you. To make up for all the years we’ve missed. But for that to happen, I need your answer on all this.”

“That’s very generous, but it’s still a big decision. I need to think.”

“About what?”

She sensed his impatience like a new perfume had entered the air. “About what it all means. About whether or not I’m ready to enter into that kind of arrangement with someone I just met. Even if we are family. I’d rather we take some time and get to know each other.”

He put his hands on the arms of her chair and leaned in very close. “We can get to know each other while we make this happen.”

She pushed back into the chair as far as she could go. “You’re scaring me.”

“Am I?” He didn’t move. “I have that effect on a lot of people. It’s probably one of the reasons people rarely refuse me.” He licked his lips. With a forked tongue.

She jerked away but the chair kept her from retreating. “I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I. I want to move forward on this decision. I need your answer. Do you accept my offer? There is so much I can offer you as part of my family. Everything you’ve ever dreamed of—”

“Get away from me.” Her voice came out a whisper. What the hell kind of fae had a forked tongue? No wonder her mother had kept this man away from her.

He stood up and laughed. “You’ll see. Your life will be better than you could have imagined.”

“No.” She ground the word out, her anger the only thing keeping her from fainting out of sheer terror.

His laughter died. “What did you say?”

She swallowed. “I said no. I’m not taking your offer.” As much as she needed the money, there was no way she could be indebted to this man. This
fae
.

He grabbed a handful of her sweatshirt and yanked her out of the chair. With one foot, he shoved the chair back so there was nothing for her feet to touch. It toppled over with a soft thud. “I don’t think you understand what’s going on here. We’re fae and fae stick together, but more than that, you’re my daughter. A Branzino.
Family.
That means you do as I say without question, just like your brothers, because you know I’ve got the best interests of the family in mind. Always.” He pulled her closer in until his scent filled her nose. He smelled like… pool water. “Got it?”

She was trembling, but anger kept her from backing down. “Or what? You’re going to hurt me? I have a hard time believing that’s in my best interest.”

“You got steel in that spine, kid. I’ll give you that.” He threw her into the couch. “Just means it’s going to hurt like hell when it breaks.” He shucked his coat like he was preparing to fight.

Her legs almost refused to work but she rolled off the couch, pushed to her feet and ran for the door. He caught her in two steps, his big hand tangling in her hair. He yanked her back. She hit the floor and cried out in pain before the impact took her breath. “You’re hurting me.”

“Because you’re making me.” He crouched over her. “Now, you’re going to go out there and have your little discussion with Augustine and then we’re going to get this deal under way. Do you understand?”