Page 120 of Fallen Court

I lifted my eyes to his, my resolve hardening like steel. “I won’t let my people suffer for my sins, Goemon. I need enough time to put an end to this madness, one way or another.”

He nodded slowly, a glimmer of respect shining through his stoic facade. “You already have what you need, and I think you know that.”

I had a sinking feeling I understood this riddle for once.

Goemon drew a deep breath. “I kept the others away tonight, but I can’t hold them off forever. Don’t cross the line.”

“Which one?”

“I’d recommend any of them.” He shook his head. “But I know you. Don’t make it too easy on us. Consider this your final warning.”

Before I could respond, he turned and melted back into the shadows, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the crushing weight of my responsibilities.

I stood there for a long moment, staring out into the darkness as the distant sounds of the city drifted on the breeze. Baptiste’s words echoed in my mind, a chilling reminder of the stakes at play. If I couldn’t find this killer, if I couldn’t protect my people, if I couldn’t protect her…there would be no peace in death.

With a heavy sigh, I turned away from the bridge, pausing to drink in the lights of New Orleans, which glittered especially brightly in the eclipsed sky. We had built too much here to let it fall.

I would save my city, my people, my mate. No matter the cost.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Cate

By dawn, I’d paced the length of Lach’s and my shared quarters more times than I could count. The plush carpet softened my steps, but each felt deafening in my head. Lach had sent me away. Shaw had dropped me at the Avalon and returned straight to his side. It wasn’t the first time, and it wasn’t what really bothered me. The memory of his words gnawed at me like an itch that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times I scratched it, and every time his phone went straight to voicemail, it got worse.

Unable to stand the silence of the room any longer, I stormed out into the shared foyer, nearly colliding with Shaw and Ciara. Dark circles rimmed their eyes, and Ciara’s normally shiny black hair was in complete disarray. They looked like they’d just crawled back from a wild night out, but I knew they’d been dealing with family business.

And I had been sent to my room.

“Where the hell is Lach?” I demanded, cringing at the sharpness of my own voice. But part of me—the part that had been waiting up for hours—didn’t care if I sounded like a bitch. I’d earned the right to be pissed.

Shaw rubbed the back of his neck, exhaustion slackening his face. “He spent a few hours tearing through everyone on guard tonight, and then he laid into the rest of us for shits and giggles,” he admitted, the weight of whatever tirade Lach had unleashed still pressing down on him.

Of course he had. Because he blamed himself for what had happened. Étienne had been alive yesterday, and when Lach’s back was turned, he was murdered. I understood why he was angry—Étienne was as close to a friend and ally as Lach had among the vampires—but that didn’t excuse his behavior. “Where is he?” I asked, my hand already moving toward the elevator button as I imagined the satisfaction I’d feel telling him just that.

“He went back to the French Quarter,” Ciara said. Weariness drenched each word. She popped off her heels one at a time and tossed them down the hall that led to her room. “He’s meeting with Baptiste at her restaurant. Trying to keep the vampires from renouncing their oaths.”

My stomach pitched at the thought of what would happen if they did. But before I could ask more questions, Ciara stumbled toward the hall.

“Where are you going?” I called, sucking back a wince as she almost walked into the wall. She gripped the threshold that separated her quarters from the others and looked back at me.

“Bed.” The single word came out as a yawn, but she managed a feeble smile. “The drama will wait for the morning.”

I frowned. “It is morning, Ciara.”

With a shrug that held more resignation than indifference, she limped a few steps toward her room. “Then it will wait for another morning,” she called back, disappearing down the corridor, toward the promise of sleep.

“It’ll be fine, Cate.” Shaw patted my shoulder, but there was doubt in his voice.

“Do you really believe that?” I asked, calling his bluff.

“I think I’m just used to saying it.” He paused, his jaw clenching. “About earlier—at the bar, I mean—I’m sorry Channing got dragged into that.”

My brother hadn’t shown his face all night, and I didn’t have the energy to hunt him down. Not when I knew there would be an argument. Not when he might demand answers I didn’t have. Not when it could have been him strung up on those gates.

“Just don’t let anything happen to him,” I whispered.

“I’ll try.” The promise was too full of regret to be entirely believable. “But then again, I’m always trying to do the right thing and still screwing it up.”