reunited briefly in Baton Rouge after Rollo took money from him in exchange for a promise to disappear. What the two of them discussed was the unknown Max feared. But for the moment, fact didn’t matter as much as opportunity.
“Tell her Brady is about to expose something damaging to her to save his own skin and you’re worried about your position here. That, she’ll believe. No honor amongst thieves and all.” Max smiled thinly at Furness. “If you sound a bit disillusioned with the new direction here in New Orleans, she’ll snap that up, wanting to drag you back under her control.”
“Tell her to come alone,” Rueben suggested, tone soft and silky. His clan had dealt with the North directly, successfully selling them personal protection. He knew how to work their suspicion and greed . . . and survive. “Hint that what you have isn’t something she’d want known.”
“That she’d want to see to it personally and privately.” Cale’s smile flashed, wide and white with malevolence.
Furness nodded, musing, “No wonder the three of you are so successful in leading others.”
“She’ll believe the worst if she thinks we’re at odds and running scared,” Cale spat out like a bad taste.
From his well-worn desk, in a thrift store chair he’d had for a decade, Furness studied the Terriot king with non-judgmental insight. The profession he’d practiced for decades imbued him with the ability to see beneath surface bravado to the disfiguring marks of fear and doubt. He phrased himself carefully. “Would she be correct thinking that?”
Surprised, Cale hesitated. After glancing at his fellow clan leaders, he responded with a firm, “No. And that’ll be our advantage. She doesn’t think we’re smart enough or selfless enough to put the needs of all ahead of our own. Big mistake. One she’s not gonna recover from.”
The collar he wore didn’t insulate Michael Furness from the harsh truth in that summation. What he’d learned in the North had been reinforced by things heard in his confessional about the pride and vanity of both human and shifter psyche. Genevieve suffered from an abundance of both. But she wasn’t careless. Or a fool.
“We keep this between us,” he suggested. “Trust expands no farther than this room. If we can agree on that, I’ll reach out to her. I have as much at stake here as you, maybe more.” Before they could question that, he added, “And while we put this plan into play, it might be wise to consider what the next step will be after disposing of her. The North won’t remain without a leader for long, and it’s in our interest to be in on that choice of successor.”
“You think we can trust them to make any lasting compromise?” Cale scoffed.
“About as much reason as they have to trust you.”
Considering that, the trio fell silent. After a moment, Cale and Rueben looked to Max, willing to follow his lead.
“Agreed,” he said at last. “Put things in motion, and we’ll consider what we’d like to see the future bring for us all. Call me when you have her answer. We’ll meet again to discuss ours.”
The three stepped out into the weak spring sunlight just beginning to crest surrounding rooftops. Rueben restored his black Stetson atop his head, tipping it low to shadow shrewd dark eyes as he posed, “You trust him enough to place all our futures in his hands?”
“Do you trust me enough to answer that and abide by my decision?”
Rueben chuckled at Max’s droll return. “I think it requires further examination over that fine brandy Mia said you keep in your study. Just the three of us.” Guedry cut a quick glance at Cale. He obviously didn’t care to be surrounded by a table full of Terriots.
After a nod from Cale, Max offered, “We’ll dine and drink and talk. Come out to the house at six. I’m sure you remember the way.”
They weren’t Max’s concern. A very astute and curious Charlotte Caissie was.
– – –
Cee Cee checked her watch. Two minutes after eight.
Who was she kidding? The kid wasn’t going to show. Could she blame him? Why would he risk his job security, his very life, for a stranger and trouble he didn’t need? There were no more heroes in the City of New Orleans, no one willing to step up on behalf of a stranger—a dead stranger, at that.
She rubbed her eyes to ease the burn of an all-nighter then moved that massage to low back as she stretched. Time to catch a few