They sort of evolved after you brought me to Dr. LaRoche’s clinic to recover from my . . . injuries.”
Cee Cee’s heart clutched at the reminder of how close she’d come to losing her dearest friend again. Max had rescued them the first time. Susanna LaRoche, with her unique treatments and knowledge from the North, provided that second miracle, saving not only Sister Catherine’s life but her immortal soul from an act her vocation could never absolve.
Mary Kate blessed her with one of those sunny smiles that lightened the darkest moment, the heaviest heart. “Any courage I’ve ever managed to find, I’ve gotten from you. I’m counting on you to catch me if I fall.”
“Always.”
Mary Kate turned back to the dishes, leaving Charlotte with an irresistible mystery.
What family?
– – –
“Hello, Warren.”
Startled by the familiar voice at his ear, Warren Brady’s distracted aim nearly ruined his expensive shoes. Genevieve Savorie was the last person he’d expect to encounter in the men’s room at the Old Absinthe House where he’d been absolving his guilt with a potent drip of 136-proof Pernod in a heavily shadowed corner of the 200-year-old bar.
Growling his displeasure, he pushed past her, heading to the sinks to wet paper towels for damage control. The sight of his daughter guarding the door didn’t lessen his annoyance. Or his fear.
“This is a new low, even for you, Genevieve.”
“I recall we’ve met in less savory places than dark rooms on Bourbon Street.”
Her censure didn’t improve his mood. “Why are you here?”
“I thought you might like to see Olivia.”
A glance stabbed toward the stoic female as he vigorously washed his hands. “I see her. So, what else do you want?”
“I want to know what possessed you to make such a colossal mess of all my hard work,” Genevieve purred. “Explain how being neck deep in a criminal investigation encourages my faith that you’ll be of any use at all.”
“They have nothing,” he snapped. “Just manufactured and illegally obtained evidence. I’ll be cleared of all charges.”
“That’s supposed to absolve my misgivings?”
He spun to glare at her. “What do you know about what goes on here in my city?”
“Why, Warren, I have eyes and ears everywhere.”
A chill rode through him, turning his response into an attack. “You think that priest is helping you?” His laugh provoked a tightening of her exquisite features. “He’s in their pocket, Genevieve. He has no loyalty to you or your plans.”
Her inhale held a poisonous hiss. “What’s between me and Michael isn’t your concern. His isn’t the face on every news channel with a caption of corruption beneath it!” A deflating sigh. “We had plans for you, Warren.”
Had. The connotation drained his arrogance. “I’ll clean up my own mess. I’ve already got plans in motion.”
“Hmmm. Still, I’ll have Olivia keep a close eye on you to make sure it’s my agenda you’re devoted to. That won’t be a problem, will it?”
He gave his daughter a long, reassessing look, as a danger instead of a liability. Olivia had always been the wildcard, the impulsive, self-destructive half of the two children he’d been entrusted to raise. Like him, her goals were far from humanitarian. Ophelia was the altruistic one who’d tried to be a moral compass where no Magnetic North existed. Ophelia, who’d had the bad fortune of falling in love with one from the faction he planned to suppress or eliminate. At least there were no more illusions between them, though an annoying fondness and respect remained. But that wouldn’t protect her from becoming collateral damage. Warren Brady looked out for Warren Brady.
Olivia returned his appraisal, the cold, dead stare that of a predator, her smile a display of teeth promising a vicious bite. No trace of fear or fondness remained. “It’s good to be home, Daddy. The only thing missing is Phe. But then you certainly burned that bridge, along with her mate’s family.”
He turned from her without comment.
Genevieve watched the interplay with bored amusement. “She’ll help you tidy up. If you can’t be of value to our cause, there’s no reason to keep you alive.”
“I will be, Genevieve. I’ve always been your right hand.”
Her mouth pursed. “Flatter yourself if it helps get things done. Our plans must be above reproach if we’re to assume control in this city. Even a swamp filled with vile creatures needs a leader. If not you, I’ve another in mind.”
That undercut his prideful confidence. “Who? Who could give you everything I’ve promised?”
“Keep those vows,” she warned in answer. “You’ve got one chance, Warren.