Page 102 of Fallen Court

“Watch who you call ancient, Gage,” Baptiste warned me with a smirk that told me she was more amused by this encounter than irritated. She leaned closer to Cate. “Although, I could tell you some stories about this one…”

Cate—damn her—looked more intrigued than upset by this offer. A slow smile spread across her face as she regarded Baptiste with new interest. “Now that is tempting.”

Baptiste smirked at her. “He had a rather misspent youth.”

“I don’t remember that.” I searched the room for the nearest exit.

But Baptiste snorted, shaking her head and nearly sending her wig toppling. “You might not, but fortunately for Cate, I do.” She tapped a finger against her chin as she assessed Cate. “We should have lunch.”

Cate bit her lip as if even the promise of embarrassing stories wasn’t worth the danger of eating with a vampire. At least some of her self-preservation instinct was intact. “I’ll bring Ciara.”

“Perfect.” Baptiste’s grin turned feline.

I groaned inwardly, envisioning the three of them gossiping and giggling at my expense. But old stories were the least of the damage that Baptiste could inflict. I needed to put an end to this unholy alliance before it began.

“I think that’s enough trips down memory lane for one evening.” I hooked an arm around Cate’s waist to keep her from slipping off with the vampire. “Étienne invited us. Have you seen him?”

“He’s around,” Baptiste purred, eyes still gleaming with triumph. “The show is about to start. He’s probably making his way to the stage.” She nodded to Cate. “I’ll see you very soon. Enjoy the Danse.” She blew us a kiss before disappearing into the crowd.

I tugged Cate in the opposite direction, away from the casino floor and toward the deeper recesses of La Porte—the spaces reserved for magical beings.

Cate nudged me as we approached a dimly lit corridor. “You could have warned me,” she said. “Baptiste seems…interesting.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” I muttered. “Look, she might seem charming, but Baptiste is dangerous.”

“Because she’s a vampire?” She arched an eyebrow.

“Because she’s Baptiste.” It was hard to explain what I’d learned the hard way over the centuries. “And hey, if you want my humiliating stories, just ask.”

She pressed her lips into a bemused line. “So you’re going to tell me?”

“In 1838, I mistook a woman for a werewolf on Bourbon Street and tackled her.” Not the worst of the tales, but I still grimaced at the memory.

“How did you do that?” Cate asked, laughing.

“In my defense, her fur coat looked like it was trying to swallow her,” I said, smiling a bit despite myself, “and I was also very drunk.”

“That can’t be the worst story she has on you,” Cate pushed.

It wasn’t. Not by a long shot. “I’ve got more. Just stay away from her.”

I didn’t care about what Baptiste could tell her about my past. Cate and I were mated. Nothing could undo that. But I doubted that Baptiste wanted to be friends with Cate for selfless reasons; more likely, she hadn’t given up on her opium proposal. Not that she would find an ally in Cate for that cause. But despite what I’d told Cate earlier this evening, there was a reason I’d learned to keep some distance from the city’s covens. Friendliness was easily mistaken as weakness.

Cate huffed. “Oh, please. I’m a big girl—I can handle myself. Or are you just uncomfortable with the idea of me being friends with your ex?”

I sighed heavily, running a hand through my hair. “It’s not that. I just… I need you to be careful, all right? Promise me you’ll keep your guard up around her.”

She studied me for a moment before nodding slowly. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to lunch with a vampire alone. I said I’d bring Ciara, remember?”

She had. Because she was clever. I needed to remember that. Pulling her against me, I kissed her forehead. “I’m a little on edge.” I paused, something thick muddying my voice. “I know you can take care of yourself.”

But even as I spoke, unease wormed through me. Baptiste’s interest in Cate was far from coincidental. I’d have to watch the vampire closely.

Very closely.

Cate inhaled sharply as we stepped into the dim hallway. The world shimmered around us, magic allowing us passage. The darkness melted into a light-soaked private room, neon and candlelight clashing in an unholy combination. A few heads turned in our direction, eyes studying Cate. I stepped closer to her, my unease deepening as they roamed over her human features.

“They’re staring at me,” she muttered, flushing as a particularly curious vampire tossed his cards on the table and blatantly ogled her as he lifted a champagne flute, the red liquid inside morphing into electric blue when it met his lips.