Adamant Spirits, page 150
Charlotte ended the call and threw herself on the bed in a heap. Nothing felt right. None of this. Not the way they were abandoning this mission. Not the way she’d left things with Lawry.
I feel something for you, Charlotte. Something real. Like I was always meant to meet you.
You want me to hold you? Kiss you? Tell you what I feel is real, too? Well, I guess neither of us will get what we want this morning.
Goodbye, Lawrence.
Charlotte pulled her legs high and wrapped her arms around them. She pressed her face to her bony knees.
I feel something for you, Charlotte. Something real.
Charlotte opened her mouth and released the desperate cry locked in her chest.
Nicolas
Nicolas and Lauren waited outside Colleen’s office at the Gardens. Nicolas leaned into the heavy mahogany panels lining the inside of the tall wainscoting. The hallway here, as with the hallway leading to the Collective chambers and offices, had a much different look and feel than the rest of the mansion. Visitors to The Gardens would say the old slumbering manor was soft and inviting. Those there on more official business walked away remembering the dark wood, swirling details, and the perfume of old money.
They made small talk to pass the time. The change in the weather, the new café opening on Upperline. The safety of shared interests snared them both. Lauren animated when the discussion turned to the new Saints uniforms, a topic Nicolas would not have suspected to be at the top of her interest lists. Learning things about someone else was new for him. He enjoyed it more than he expected.
At last, the door swung open. Colleen nodded at them, smiling. Though well past supper, her hair was pulled back in a severe bun with not a hair askance, and her suit was so well tailored, Nicolas wondered if she didn’t employ magic for more aesthetic reasons from time to time.
“Always a pleasure to see you both,” she greeted and steered them in.
They each took a seat across the desk as she settled into her tall leather chair. “Let me express how sorry I am that a project I asked you to take on for me personally has led to such distress. I wanted to meet with you both sooner, but I needed to look into things myself, to assess if the family was in any further risk after Adrien’s assault.” She turned to Lauren with a drawn look. “This was not what I meant, Lauren, when I suggested someone without our gifts was the best choice to make contact.”
“I know you didn’t,” Lauren said graciously. “We couldn’t have predicted that.”
Nicolas did not feel so charitable. “That could have been even worse. Way worse. He stayed in her head, Aunt C, long after he wasn’t anywhere near her. I have no idea how he did it. Do you?”
Colleen folded her hands over the tidy desk. “Some gifted telepaths have been known to possess the ability to leave a residue.”
“A residue?” Nicolas repeated.
“I wish I could tell you more. I suspect the strongest telepaths among us, such as Tristan, could be capable of this, but it requires training and none today in our family possess such knowledge. Moreover, an ability of this nature would be considered combative, as there can be no practical, benign use for such a thing.”
“I don’t understand what he was trying to do,” Lauren said. She cast her eyes down and to the side. “Why he would even leave the… residue.”
“To my knowledge, this allows him to continue to read your mind, but in a limited form. Proximity enhances telepathy, and that rule is true no matter how strong one might be. I don’t know the extent of Adrien LaViolette’s strength, but it must be greater than average for him to have achieved that. Thankfully, your experience with us helped you recognize the intrusion and accept the reality of it. I understand Nicolas helped you expel him?”
Lauren nodded. “I think I could do it again, if I needed to.”
“I was remiss not to teach you sooner,” Colleen said, contrite. “It was unfair to bring you into a world of mind readers and not give you the tools to protect yourself.”
Nicolas leaned forward. “Okay, so now what?”
“Well,” Colleen replied, “I’ve sent a cordial note to Harlowe LaViolette to let her know the move was a miscalculation on our part, and she can expect us to hold their desire for privacy in greater esteem going forward.”
“After what they did?” Nicolas’ head shook slowly. “They fired the first fucking shot when Adrien attacked Lauren. They knew she was coming. They could have sent a ‘cordial note,’ and instead they went on the offensive.”
“I’m fine now,” Lauren insisted, but the color had drained from her face, as it had after the meeting. He imagined her reliving it, and it incensed him all over again.
“What would you have me do, Nicolas?” Colleen asked reasonably.
“Adrien shouldn’t get away with this. He doesn’t get to fuck with someone… an innocent… and walk away. Aunt C, I don’t care who they are, what about who we are?”
“What will be solved by exacting retribution on Adrien, Nicolas?”
“No.” Nicolas flashed an angry smile. “No, you aren’t going to do your ‘answer all questions with more questions’ bullshit with me. Not about this. We’re the fucking Deschanels, the midnight dynasty of New Orleans, and we’re backing down when attacked?”
Colleen’s expression shifted. Her lips tightened. “Fine, Nicolas. You want to know why I’m choosing not to fight this particular battle?”
“Yes, I fucking do.”
At his side, Lauren bowed her head. He wished he could hold her hand, at the very least, but he wouldn’t.
“There’s a lot we don’t know about the LaViolettes.”
“Obviously.”
“Yes,” Colleen said with a sigh. “Obviously. This is why I wanted to dip a toe and see where it took us. I see now what that produced. Imagine if we waded all the way into these waters?” She pushed on, cutting Nicolas off before he could fire off a retort. “Adrien’s decision to assault Lauren confirmed for me my greatest fear, which is that this family is exceptionally dangerous. Perhaps, even, without conscience. Ashley told me they had a reputation for dealing with threats with impunity. They’ve identified us as a threat and have fired the first shot, as you said.”
“Nowhere did you explain why that means we should back down.” His arm shot out toward Lauren. “Nowhere did you explain why we’re going to let them get away with hurting one of our own.”
“We have not survived this long by fighting every battle lain at our doorstep.”
“We haven’t survived this long by abiding treacherous motherfuckers, I know that much.”
Lauren dropped a hand on his knee. “If this is for my sake, stop. I don’t want to start a war on my account. What’s done is done. It wasn’t the best day of my life, but I’m fine now. As Colleen said, it could be so much worse.”
Nicolas frowned at her hand. His head shook from right to left, over and over. “When Colleen decided to bring you into our secrets, she made you one of us. I don’t care what your driver’s license says. You’re one of us. And when one of us is attacked, all of us take care of it.”
“This is the method I would choose whether this happened to Lauren, or to my own Amelia. Sometimes we have to make decisions that are better for the whole.” Colleen regarded Nicolas with soft, but intense scrutiny. “Do you think I’ll always be running this family, Nicolas?”
“I don’t know what you’re asking.”
“Someday it will fall to the next generation. Your generation. Maybe even you specifically. You are the heir, after all. Even if your father never wanted the responsibility, that doesn’t mean it couldn’t one day become yours.”
Nicolas didn’t know what to do with that. He always assumed Amelia would take the yoke when her mother hung it up. “What’s your point?”
“My point, I suppose, is that you may find it easier to criticize a decision when you are not ultimately responsible for the results of its outcome.”
Nicolas shot to his feet. Lauren’s hand fell away. “Aunt C, you are hands down the wisest woman I know. But that doesn’t mean everything you say is the damn gospel. You are not Peter. This church of Deschanel was founded long before you got here.”
Colleen let him vent without replying. The serene, patient look she wore incensed him further.
“I want a Collective Council meeting. I’m invoking my right as a Council member to request one. This should not be your decision alone. What happened to Lauren impacts all of us. It could have happened to any of us. I suspect the rest of the Council won’t be so goddamn complacent about an attack on the family.”
Colleen rose. “Very well, Nicolas. I’ll get one on the books.”
“Soon.”
“Yes. Soon. This week or next, as soon as we can pull everyone together.”
“Awesome.”
Lauren exited after him, hurrying to catch up. “What happened in there?”
“What happened?” He turned to her. “What happened is the woman who is supposed to protect this family just exposed us to a new enemy.”
“You didn’t have to do that for me.”
Nicolas grunted. “I didn’t do it for you. I did it for us. For the Deschanels. Which, sorry to tell you, Lauren, once you’re in the inner circle, you’re one of us.”
Lauren’s smile drew a tight line across her face. “I appreciate that, but maybe she’s right.”
“Maybe.” Nicolas threw his hands up. “But this is bigger than her. We’ll see what the rest of the Council says. I should have known better when she asked me to keep it from them. Being magistrate doesn’t give her the ultimate power to decide how to handle something that impacts the whole family.”
He started back down the hall, but Lauren caught his hand in hers. She realized what she’d done and dropped it again, but he could see she had something to say.
“About Cameron…”
Nicolas stopped her. “When I say something isn’t my business, I need to learn to mean it.”
“He’s leaving my sister.” Lauren shifted her purse to the other arm. She seemed struck with nerves, and Nicolas braced himself for words he knew would cut him.
With a short laugh, he managed to say, “Well, congratulations, Lauren. I guess he’s finally seen the light.”
“No.” Lauren’s head shook as she tried to find the words. “It isn’t like that. I’m not a fool. But he needs help. He needs legal help, discreetly, because as soon as Cassidy finds out, it will be war. And I’m not going to let her ruin Willow’s and Ainsley’s lives just to get back at Cameron. I won’t allow it. Cameron is the only parent they’ve ever really had, and this can’t end in any other way than him raising my nieces.”
Relief trickled in, but Nicolas knew better than to let himself feel it too deeply. Whether she really meant this or would end up back in Cameron’s arms, she would never find her way to Nicolas’. She wasn’t his. He wasn’t hers. She came to him with this revelation as a friend. But even so, she didn’t owe him the words.
“I don’t know how you’ve done it all these years. To love him, for him to break your heart and then never really be able to be rid of him because he was family.” Nicolas realized the extent of his admiration for Lauren, the depth of her strength, as the words came out. “But you’re an amazing person to step up and help him now. You’re right, the children shouldn’t be in the middle. There’s only one way this needs to end.”
Lauren sagged visibly in her relief. “I don’t know how I did it, either, to be perfectly honest with you. But I only have to do it a little bit longer. This is the last battle I’ll fight where Cameron is concerned, but I think it’s the most important one.”
Nicolas nodded. “I’ll help, if I can. Just ask.” His grin was mischievous. “I can arrange to have him fired from the firm, if that helps.”
She laughed. “I think it’s harder for him than it is for me. He’s the one who has to face his mistakes every time he goes to work. After everything was over, I thought about it… about leaving. But why should I have to leave? Why me? Besides, I’m the better attorney. Objectively.” She shook her head. “I’m the one who got dumped, but he’s the one who can’t quite move on. Funny, isn’t it?”
“You don’t want my opinion on the actions of Cameron Sullivan.”
Lauren jumped a little as her purse vibrated. She shot Nicolas a questioning look and then dug around and found her phone. “Lauren speaking.”
Her eyes expanded wider and wider as the call went on. Nicolas couldn’t hear anything. He waited patiently.
Lauren dropped her phone in her purse. Her mouth fell open. “Nicolas… they matched the picture. They actually did it.”
“That’s great!”
She raised her head, still working through the words. “They know who it is. They didn’t want to tell us over the phone, so we need to head to the firm. Urgently, they said.” She wrapped her arms around her chest. “Now, you tell me, what couldn’t they say over the phone?”
Nicolas’ mind reached for the answer, but there was only one place they’d find it. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”
Charlotte
Charlotte awoke at five in the morning to the sound of torrential rain covering the world, peppering the window and leaving behind long, slithering streaks that obscured the city outside.
In twenty-four hours, a taxi would arrive to take them to Charles de Gaulle. From there, they would leave this city behind, and this mission, and everything in between.
Julian snored, curled up under a pile of blankets. He looked so warm and comfortable, and as Charlotte cast her eyes to the cold world outside, she was strongly tempted to coil herself in her own mountain of warmth and forget everything, all of it.
I feel something for you, Charlotte. Something real. Like I was meant to meet you.
Would he even be there? Say she did go. What if he didn’t want to see her? Maybe Lawrence had changed his route to avoid this very thing. If he didn’t, would it be more of the same? Lawrence’s stubbornness rivaled hers, which may have been a piece of the glue that so quickly fused them together, but it might also be the wedge tearing them apart.
Her head was a whirlwind of conflicting, complicated thoughts. Go. Don’t go. In the corner of go was the promise of seeing him again. His azure eyes like the Gulf. His smile that melted through the chaos in his troubled face. His lips… ah, his lips…
On the side of don’t go were also these same things, all designed to melt her resolve. You want me to hold you? Kiss you? Tell you what I feel is real, too? Well, I guess neither of us will get what we want this morning.
But she hadn’t. Hadn’t gotten what she wanted. Hadn’t held him again, kissed him again, told him maybe she was in love with him, too, despite how crazy that sounded. And she didn’t know if she could return home without these things, just as Lawrence hadn’t been able to keep his feelings bottled and then spilled them, changing everything.
Charlotte slipped quietly from her bed. She changed into her running clothes in the bathroom, wincing as the door clicked closed. Julian hadn’t scolded her for her past dalliances with Lawrence, but she didn’t expect such grace if she went again, now, when they were so close to the end.
She exited the room with one last glance at Julian. Still asleep. She prayed she could get back before he rose for the day. But if he did wake, she would be far enough gone for him to stop her.
Charlotte rounded the corner into the Tuileries Gardens. She was several minutes behind Lawrence’s rigid schedule, but if she took a minute off her pace, she could catch up by the time she made it to the pyramid.
As her feet hit the muddy path when she rounded the corner, she froze. Lawrence was there, just ahead, but he was not alone.
Gabrielle faced away, but Charlotte would have known her anywhere. Her full blond hair and menacing stature loomed before Lawrence. Her hand flailed about her in anger, her whole body in angry animation as she dressed him down.
Charlotte couldn’t hear the words, but the shrill venom in her voice carried across the air. Lawrence’s face conveyed enough healthy fear for her to understand something terrible had happened.
She had to do something. But what?
She pulled her cell phone from her running jacket and started to dial the emergency number, then paused. What would she say? Would it be better to call Lauren? Lauren could sound the alarm with the Deschanels’ other trusted contacts in Paris, and that might be a better solution. But no, Lauren would be asleep. Charlotte tapped her foot… Lauren wouldn’t care about being woken up, not if it was something important, and this was important.
Lawry. I’m here. I’m here. I won’t let her do whatever she wants. Not anymore.
Charlotte’s shaking hand tried to dial the number. Up ahead, Lawrence screamed. She whipped her gaze up to see two men flanking him, dragging him by the arms as his sneakers bounced over the pavement. One had a hand firmly over his mouth, and the sound dissolved into muted panic.
And then Lawrence saw her. He struggled against the men, but his eyes were on her, and his panic escalated. She could almost hear him begging her to go, to run, but she could do neither. She wouldn’t leave him.
She watched as they pulled him into a van. Charlotte snapped back to herself, found Lauren’s contact, and dialed. The phone dropped from her shaking hands, and as she knelt to recover it, she saw the puddle of water it landed in. A chill passed through her, and she had the immediate sense of dampness, coldness. I saw two figures and a strong, terrible sense of danger. Water, too, like the sense of being damp and chilled. The air around her changed, as if there wasn’t enough of it, and her feet came up from underneath her. She lost sight of her phone when everything, her whole world, went dark. She was aloft, hands on her shoulders and her legs, and then she understood, she grasped what was happening.
Julian’s vision.
Charlotte screamed and screamed and screamed.
Julian
