Frog Hollow (Witches of Sanctuary Book 1) Page 21

  He rolls his eyes. “Mom can make sure anyone is on that guest list.”

  He notices my frown again, and he realizes that no amount of reason is going to soothe my worries. So instead, he throws his arm around my shoulder and holds me tight. “Fine,” he says, giving in. “We’ll just stay back here and be sourpusses together.”

  I pat his side and lean my head on his shoulder. “You’re a good date,” I say, and he laughs.

  I manage to stay relatively calm until we join the crowd that approaches the stone steps of the immaculate hotel that is throwing the party. Security is tight. Reid nudges me to point out the armed guards standing in the windows and those lurking in the shadows of the neighboring alleys. We spread amongst the crowd, lingering at store windows, waiting our turn as Sera secretly performs her magic on the attendant at the door. After watching her glide by him, holding the arm of Zeke’s cousin Anders, we know our turn is next. Reid leads me up the steps, smiling politely at the doorman. I notice the glazed look in his eyes when Reid states the made up names Sera chose for us. “Mr. and Mrs. Goodman,” Reid tells him, not waiting for confirmation before leading me inside.

  We are greeted with a giant dome entryway lined with crystal chandeliers. I glance down and see my reflection in the shiny marble floor as he tugs my arm forward. We continue to follow the crowd down the long hallway until we enter what I assume is a pavilion. The room opens up into an almost outdoor-like experience. Hidden walkways are shadowed by rows of green foliage, fountains, and a clear ceiling that lets in an array of colors from the setting sun. “Forward,” a squat looking woman directs as we walk by. “The ballroom is on your left through the gallery.”

  Reid nods, thanking her politely. The ballroom exceeds my expectations, grander than any fairytale I can imagine. The ceiling is tall, draped with exquisite fabric that matches the gold and bronze walls. Directly in front of us, at the far end of the ballroom, is a stage with a band producing a slow but joyous jazz beat. The dancefloor takes up the entire middle of the room, while the rest is filled with tables, each set with half-filled wine glasses and an array of exotic cheeses and fruit. Reid leads me over to a table in the far corner, opposite the direction of Sera and Anders. Our objective is to spot anyone of importance. To me that means Julien, while Reid is more worried about Roux or François.

  Minutes later, the rest of our crew finally makes its way into the room, each pair spreading out to different sections of the crowd. Despite Sera’s warning, Zeke and Sadie are the first to join the dancefloor, taking their chances in order to enjoy their first dance as husband and wife. “I don’t want you trying to do anything crazy tonight,” Reid whispers in my ear.

  I shoot him an ill look.

  “Don’t act like it hasn’t crossed your mind. I know we have different agendas tonight.”

  I make a quiet but displeased sound under my breath. He only leans in closer. “I’m not asking for me, because you know how I feel already,” he says. “I’m asking for her.” He points a finger at Sadie and Zeke, who continue to dance among the group that has joined them. They look so incredibly happy together, smiles beaming across their faces as Zeke twirls her around. “One day Sadie will need you. Surviving what will happen to Zeke will be hard enough, so don’t add your name to the list of things that will slowly kill her.”

  I frown at him, because he knows exactly how to play me. It isn’t as if I plan to martyr myself to save Julien, but if the chance to save him presents itself, I will take it. Reid would prefer I sit back and do nothing, just watch as my family risk their lives to save mine. He doesn’t understand how losing even one of them would surely kill me, as well. I sink into his arms, closing my eyes as I listen to the music. “I will only do what is necessary.”

  It isn’t long before the party really starts, the band going into full swing, the wine glasses being refilled for the second and third times. Reid leads me out on the dancefloor so I can get a better look at the crowd in hopes of catching a glimpse of Roux. I haven’t a clue how I am supposed to recognize him if he is also wearing a mask, but I do my best. Honestly, it’s hard to concentrate on my mission after Reid reveals his superb dancing skills. He twirls me around the floor like a pro, and the sly smile he gives me proves he knows I’m impressed. Almost an hour later, the band comes to a stop, pronouncing they are going on a short break. Reid walks me back to our table and grabs a couple glasses of wine.

  I’ve almost drained it when I notice the figures walking onto the stage. One of them is my stalker. I immediately point him out to Reid, and he alerts Grady, who now sits with Abby a few tables behind us. It appears as if the men are lining the stage as a type of security, and I wonder what they are protecting until François appears between them, almost out of thin air, and removes the flaming red mask from his face. He doesn’t have to say his name for me to recognize him as Julien’s father. He looks just like I always imagined. François is an older version of his son, except his face is cold and dismissive. The crowd instantly quiets as he steps forward.

  “Welcome,” he announces, holding his hands out. “I am glad to see so many have accepted my offer to join in the celebration of the return of my son to his rightful place at my side.”

  My fingers curl into fists as I angrily bite the inside of my lip. Reid massages my arm, attempting to relax me. It’s no use. No one can tame the way I hate that man. “Tonight, we celebrate,” he adds, going on to elaborate on the many years he’s waited for this moment. It’s then, when everyone’s attention is focused solely on François, that I notice Roux Bessette standing in the corner, just off from the stage. He wears a mask that depicts a face of a demon, but it’s the hard line of his lips I recognize. It’s obvious Roux Bessette isn’t as thrilled about Julien’s return as François, and I have a feeling I know why.

  I tug Reid’s arm and quietly direct his attention to the man in the corner. “Roux,” I say under my breath, and he nods.

  “I’ll be right back.” He hands me his glass of wine and disappears to inform the others.

  I down his glass in under a second, letting the hazy feeling that bubbles inside me win over. François finishes his speech and orders the band to start back up, but he doesn’t leave the stage in the same quick flash that he enters it. Instead, he stands in the middle, the members of the band playing around him as he opens his arms to someone who stands off stage. A figure slowly climbs the stairs, his black suit and matching joker’s mask sending me almost toppling over the chair behind me. It’s Julien. He’s here!

  My hands tremble as my mind starts churning out schemes to achieve his freedom. A swift hand catches my shoulder as I involuntarily step toward the stage. “Don’t even think about it, blondie,” an amused voice chuckles behind me.

  I glance over my shoulder to see Zeke disappointedly shaking his head. “Zeke.” I look back to Julien’s frowning lips as his father directs him forward off the opposite side of the stage along with his security team.

  “I’m sorry, Willa.” Zeke wraps a hand in the tulle of my dress, holding me in place. “But Julien is second on our list. Roux must come first, and now that we’re certain he is here, that has to be our first priority.”

  I purse my lips but know it’s useless when Reid appears at his shoulder. “We’ve got a game plan. Grady is waiting for you and Sadie. Wilhelmina stays with me.”

  I roll my eyes. “Why does that not surprise me?”

  Zeke gives me a quick hug and rushes off to find his wife. Reid grabs my hand and begins pulling me toward the door. “Where are we going?”

  “Outside.” He casually directs me in front of him. “It’s too stuffy in here. You need some air.”

  I huff, knowing his excuse easily translates into the fact he is taking me as far away from their game plan as humanly possible. “This isn’t fair.” We exit the ballroom into the gallery. “I should be a part of the action!”

  “Why? So they can capture you? You have to start thinking about more than yourself.” He squeezes
my hand tightly. “You are the keeper now. Your life is worth more than anyone else’s, and not just to me.”

  My thoughts rush around me as we speed down the path through the pavilion and then out the entryway into the streets. I have to admit, the night air does feel refreshing, but I’m too upset to enjoy it. Reid marches back and forth looking for something, finally spotting it a half block down the street. “Follow me.”

  “What now?”

  “It’s the back exit. According to Zeke’s cousin, this alley is the only exit besides the one we just came through. If the plan works, we have nothing to worry about. If it doesn’t, we might need to put those powers of yours to use when they start trying to escape.”

  “What exactly is the plan?” We round the corner and enter the alley that looks more like a tunnel than anything else.

  Reid is about to answer when a noise catches our attention, and he quickly pulls me to his side. He signals for me to keep quiet as we inch further down the narrow street. I spot light in the distance and realize we are, in fact, in a tunnel. The second story of the hotel leads out onto a prominence that connects to the building next to it, creating a covered entryway to the back exit. We tiptoe along the wall to the edge of the overhang, listening intently as the noise above us develops into voices.

  “This is ridiculous,” a voice complains with a harsh, angry edge. I grab the collar of Reid’s tux, mouthing out the name Roux the best I can. I would never be able to forget that voice, evident by the chills the sound of it sends up my spine. “This is only a waste of time.”

  Another voice lets out an indignant snort. “The way I see it, if you want to use my hired help to do your dirty work, then you should be damn well happy to celebrate whatever I wish.” It’s François this time, and he is clearly annoyed.

  “Don’t act like I’m the only one who will benefit from the girl’s death.”

  François makes a quiet grumbling sound, and I imagine him threatening Roux. “Don’t test me, boy. Or I will give you a firsthand account of the benefit of being me.”

  “I don’t mean to offend you.” Roux makes a horrible attempt to sound polite. “Just reminding you of the urgency of our mission, unless you’ve changed your mind. Gone soft like the Prescotts.”

  There is a burst of sound and a scramble of feet above us. “You compare me to that money-grubbing filth?” François is angry. “I want the girl dead. I want my land and my town back. I will make them all pay for their treachery.”

  Roux speaks slowly, as though something is cutting off air to his lungs. “Then why waste our time with this celebration?”

  François laughs. “You fulfill your need for violence on a daily basis. Try waiting twenty-two years to gain your greatest desire and see if doesn’t bring out the need for a little celebration.”

  “Greatest desire?” Roux gulps, his breathing still difficult. “You plan to kill your son?”

  François’s laugh is evil, even wicked. “We kill those we love the most. Everyone thought it was my wife. They didn’t understand. She was just a speed bump. A complication. I’ve waited twenty years to get my hands on Julien.”

  “And what of your other son?”

  “Julien has always been so well-protected. At one time, my desperation led me to believe if I had another child, maybe that desire would transfer to them. Now the boy is just another complication. We will dispose of him as well.”

  I shake Reid, both hands gripping his jacket like I’m desperately trying to wake him up. I want to scream at him, to force him to come to reason. They are going to kill Julien! I was right. My stalker cared less about capturing me than returning Julien to his murderous father. Reid grabs my hands and holds them gently as the scuffle goes quiet above us.

  “You’ve backed out on our deal.”

  François sounds calm, assured. “I have not. As soon as this itch is scratched, you’ll have my full attention. You may borrow my guard to go hunt down your girl.”

  “And how soon can I count on that?”

  “By morning.” François’s voice is too casual to be talking about the murder of his son. “My guards are taking Julien to the Ruby now. I’ll meet them there within the hour.”

  “We shall see,” Roux says doubtfully.

  Doors open and close as my heart pounds in my chest. Reid looks down at me, my pleading eyes brimming with tears. “We’ll get him.” His face is sad when he speaks, but his words are sincere. “Even an asshole shouldn’t die like that.”

  I jump into his arms, a silent thank you I will never be able to forget.

  “Calm down,” he insists. “We’ll have to work fast. The others will be after Roux, so it will be up to us to get Julien out.”

  I nod, prepared to do whatever it takes to save him.

  “He’s taking Julien to the Ruby.” Reid takes my hand as we slowly back away from the building. “I’ve been to Charlotte enough to know it, so we’re in luck.”

  ***

  We’ve run five blocks when I start to drift behind, and Reid slows down to wait on me. “Women and their damn high heels.”

  I let out a startling gasp as he swings his arms around my waist and heaves me up like a rag doll. Thunder roars in the distance, intertwining with the smooth notes of music that drift through the tight alleyway.

  I look up at Reid from beneath my lashes, his brow furrowing in concentration as he carries me. “I keep asking myself how I let you get me into these situations,” he says through gritted teeth, his eyes glancing down to mine. “But then you look at me like that.”

  I blush, hiding my face in the nape of his neck. “What?” He chuckles darkly. “Are we still supposed to pretend like we hate each other?”

  “No.” It comes out barely audible, but it sounds loud in the silence of the street. “It’s just—I feel guilty for always getting you involved, especially when—”

  “When you care about him?”

  We stop at the corner, Reid letting me drop down to my feet, but he still keeps his arms wrapped tightly around me. I swallow hard when I look back over my shoulder at him, but he doesn’t look upset. “I won’t fight him for you.” He tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “It’s not because you’re not worth it or that I wouldn’t mind unhinging his jaw again. I don’t want to have to convince you I’m better for you.”

  I study the street in front of us, vacant as ever. “What if I fail completely?” I ask, because I wouldn’t doubt my relationship potential is so misconstrued that I will ever quite get it right. At my rate, I will probably end up some withered old hag like the witches they portray in fairytales.

  “Failure isn’t an option,” he says gruffly. “There is only risk of heartbreak, be it mine or his. Either way, you will be happy.”

  I turn completely around, grabbing the jacket of his tux. “Neither.”

  A soft smile spreads across his lips. “But you care,” he whispers. “And that’s okay. For now.”

  I start to protest, though I don’t exactly know how or why I am going to do so, but it feels wrong to leave him hanging in the belief I will surely hurt him.

  He presses a finger to my lips and shushes me quietly. “Turn around. Someone is coming this way.”

  Three dark figures are coming down the street at a brisk walk. I recognize Julien at once. He’s removed his mask and jacket and now wears only his slacks with a crisp white shirt. Two large men flank him at either side, leading him to a small door of a tarnished brick building halfway down the street. Julien frowns as he enters, and I reflexively leap forward. Luckily, Reid catches me. “Patience,” he says, holding me still until the two men disappear into the building as well.

  As soon as the door clangs shut, I’m out in the middle of the street. They’ve taken him into the Ruby Red Lounge, though the old bar appears to be well past its prime by about a hundred years. I’m at the front door, yanking the iron handle within seconds, but it halts as I try to jerk it open. Reid holds it firmly shut. “Do you ever listen to me?” he a
sks, exasperated. “You can’t just bust into a Haunted bar!”

  I start to ask how he knows what kind of bar it is until I see the writing in the window. It’s small, faded, and written in French but easy enough to figure out.

  ‘Entrez à vos riques et perils,’ I say, then translate to English. “Enter at your own risk.”

  “Exactly,” he breathes. “It’s a warning. Please don’t be foolish enough to ignore it.”

  “I’m not ignoring it. I’m going to play into it. If they think I’m just some dim-witted tourist wandering in from one of the other parties tonight they’ll easily accept me, right?”

  “So they can torture and kill you for fun,” he points out.

  “They can think what they must, as long as it gets me inside.”

  I jerk the door again, but it doesn’t budge. “And what do you think I’m going to do? Wait out here and knit you a sweater?”

  Agreeing with him will only make him angry, so I alter my plan on the fly. “No. I thought you might try breaking in through the balcony while I have them distracted.”

  He wants to say no. The denial is evident in his eyes, but I plead silently with him. My eyes round as I stick out my lip, and I know I am taking advantage of him, but we are running out of time. “I’ll meet you inside,” he insists, leaning forward to kiss my temple. “Be careful.”

  I nod, pulling the handle for the third time. The door swings open to reveal darkness as thick as the silence. I step slowly through the foyer until I catch sight of the low red lights that hang dimly over the bar tucked away in the far corner. The room is completely empty except for the young bartender. I eye the staircase to my right, knowing it is the only other option, but decide not to push my luck. I glide over to the bar and sit down like I’m a regular.

  The bartender, a tall, lean boy with sharp, angular hair and sapphire eyes gawks at me. “Good evening,” I say, eyeing the bottles of liquor displayed on the wall behind him.

  He clears his throat, picking up the rag he’d been using to wipe down the bar. “E’ning chérie.” When I look at him, I am suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of familiarity, but I can’t figure out why. However, I do notice the youth in his voice, and I wonder if he is even old enough to be serving drinks in a place like this. “May I help you?”