Cale brushed aside the apology and placed hands upon broad shoulders to keep him from struggling to stand. “It’s fine. I’m here now.” As he awkwardly crouched to put them on the same level, Cale palmed the back of his brother’s head to pull him close. “I’m here for you both.”
With a tremendous exhalation, Colin leaned into that security to whisper, “I thought I’d lost them. I didn’t know what to do.”
“I know. Been there. It’s okay. We got you.” After a long moment, Cale rumpled his brother’s hair. “They said she’s doing good, the baby, too. We’re gonna move her to Dr. LaRoche’s clinic as soon as paperwork’s signed. She’ll be safer there. They’re fixing up a place so you can stay with her.”
Those shoulders shook as Colin choked out a barely audible, “Thanks.”
“And while you’re there, Rico’s getting your stuff moved into a suite next to his in Savoie’s high-rise, just for now, ’til things are settled.”
Cale expected objections, but when his brother leaned back, it was to ask, “Will they ever be? Does it matter where we go?”
His king glanced up at Max then over at the Guedry leader before answering, “Me, Savoie and Rueben are gonna work on that while you take care of you and yours. Okay?”
One of the staff interrupted with papers for Colin to sign. When finished, he looked from his king to the far doorway, knees bouncing. Cale cupped his elbows to help him stand, urging, “Go, be with her. We got this. We’ll talk soon, brother.” Then he murmured something privately.
Whatever Cale whispered brought a bolstering strength rushing through the weary figure.
“What did you tell him?” the Guedry leader asked after his cousin’s mate limped down the hall.
“The truth. Time for us to strike back.”
– – –
Father Michael Furness regarded the trio of visitors with undisguised surprise, and just a hint of wariness. He’d never met the new leader of the Memphis clan but greeted him with a respect due his reputation. The three clan heads hadn’t come to his humble church to ask for salvation of their souls. It was for the resurrection of their kind. He didn’t bother with pleasantries as he gestured for them to follow him to his unpretentious office.
“What can I do?”
“This needs to end.” Max spoke for them all.
“I agree. Have you a plan in mind?”
“Bring her here,” Cale growled as he perched on the edge of one worn chair. Aggression couldn’t quite cover his dread as he subconsciously rubbed at the bite marks she’d scored deeply into his hand. His introduction to the Chosen leader. It was his father, Bram the Beast’s attack on her family that nearly decimated Genevieve Savorie’s line. Destroying the Terriots had become an obsession with the coldly driven ruler of the North. None of them would be safe as long as she lived. “She’ll come for me. I’m bait she can’t resist.”
Tall, still powerfully framed despite the silver threading through dark hair, Michael Furness was more than a man of God. He’d come to power at Genevieve’s side and had been sent to New Orleans in the unassuming guise to begin searching for those of their kind who’d slipped through their genetic net. Those like Charlotte Caissie and Nica Fraser. The charitable school St. Bartholomew had run for orphans was their vetting ground until those he’d fostered confronted him with the true evil of his intentions. Metaphorically speaking, he’d seen the Light.
With his calm, competent manner, Furness considered the Terriot king’s suggestion, well-knowing his former compatriot’s weaknesses. But also, her desire for self-preservation now that she had her own artificially produced daughter, Olivia Brady, at her side. He phrased his belief carefully. “She wouldn’t risk herself. She’d send her men for you, to take you to her so she could exact her revenge, which would not be quick or kind and won’t serve our purpose.”
Seeing his friend pale, Max asked, “What would tempt her into our city?”
The pseudo-priest regarded him directly. “You. She’d come for you and some secret she thinks you have that’s a danger to her rule. And no, I don’t know what it is, but it has to do with your father. She’s obsessed with something he held over her.”
Max considered that puzzle carefully. He knew little of the man who’d given him life, a taste of knowledge, but little else before his own treachery had taken his life and his secrets with it. What hold could Rollo Moytes have over his aunt? He knew they’d