Suzanne Johnson - Elysian Fields

We’d traveled at least another eighth of a mile beneath the once-again full moon before I saw the outline of a house rising from the higher land just beyond the beach. Soft light shone through its windows with a surreal glow. Pure French Colonial, as near as I could tell, with concessions made to the South Louisiana weather. It would probably be stunning in sunlight, with two stories and a gallery that spanned the upper floor. Spindly trees and lush banana palms grew up around it, dark and elegant shadows in the moonlight. From what I’d read, there were probably strategically placed cannons tucked away in several places, facing in all directions.

A raised wooden banquette stretched from the sand toward the house, and by the time Rand and I reached it, Jake’s wolf was out of sight.

The verandah traversed the width of the house on the first floor, and double doors and floor-to-ceiling windows all along the front stood open to the sea breezes. Jean apparently needed lighter security in the Beyond than in his human life. Then again, he had his own personal loup-garou and lots of undead pirates at his disposal.

I looked up at Rand. “Stay here. Let me talk to him first.”

The elf opened his mouth to respond, but thought better of it and settled for a nod and a disgruntled huff. Maybe he was learning.

Jean’s living space was masculine and built for comfort. I passed a hammock on the verandah, which spoke of the West Indies, but the inside shone with a blend of island comfort and French wealth. Serious wealth. Oil lamps provided the lighting, and their soft illumination warmed the dark woods and rustic furnishings. Art filled the walls—nautical scenes, mostly. Furniture sat dark, heavy, solid. A fire blazed above the stone hearth, and the room smelled of the ocean and Jean’s own scent of cinnamon and tobacco. I liked it.

“He’s gone into Old Orleans, DJ. Should be back soon.” I started as Jake emerged from a small door in the back of the parlor. He wore a pair of pants—probably Jean’s, because they were too long and had an old-fashioned buttoned fly. No shirt, and his feet were bare. I was so glad to see him healthy and safe, I wanted to cry.

“You look like shit, sunshine.”

“You look great.” I hugged him, and he stiffened a little before eventually hugging me back.

Jake stepped back to give me a searching, hopeful look that broke my heart. “Thank God. I didn’t infect you after all. Jean must have been wrong.” His shoulders sagged and he closed his eyes, nodding. “Thank God.”

“No, thank me.” Rand stepped forward, the elven version of testosterone on legs. “She was infected, thanks to you, and would be planning to shift and run for the rest of her life if not for me. I saved her.”

Rand needed a gag, and if I had access to Mace’s cane I’d beat him with it right now. “Stay out of this, Rand.” More softly: “I’m okay now, Jake. As soon as some political stuff gets straightened out, you should come home.” It was time we all moved on with our lives, whatever that meant.

An expressionless mask covered Jake’s features as he tried to shut me out, but I could feel the despair filtering through his wonky loup-garou aura. I wanted to help him, but as usual, I didn’t know what to do. I moved to hug him again, but he stepped back. Don’t pressure him. Don’t put expectations on him. I needed it tattooed on my forehead. If I’d learned nothing else from this ordeal, it should be that.

I began to notice other things. Fading bruises on his abdomen. A deep scratch across the side of his neck. “Who hurt you?” Jean had promised to take care of him. As fast as loupgarou healed, the fact he was still showing those injuries told me they were recent, and they’d been serious.

He ignored me and focused on Rand. “Aren’t you Eugenie’s boyfriend? What the hell are you doing here?”

Rand squared his shoulders. “I am a member of the Elven Synod, and Dru and I are bonded. This blood-bond allowed me to save her, as elves are immune to the loup-garou curse. If the shift didn’t kill her, her wizard Elders would have, thanks to you.”

I closed my eyes. Rand was such an ass. I liked him a lot better when he was half conscious or fighting for his life. “The little detail Rand omitted is that the Axeman was after us and we escaped through a transport that took us to Elf heim, which was too dangerous for us. Long story. I don’t want to go back to New Orleans without a plan to stop him, and I thought Jean could help.”

Slow. No expectations. “I’m really glad to see you, Jake.”

Jake was boring visual holes in Rand, his brows lowered. I didn’t think he’d even been listening to me. “If you give me your blood, will it kill the loup-garou virus in me?”

Rand blinked. “I am bound to Dru. I can’t bond with anyone else. Especially a man.”

“It’s that kind of bond? Sunshine, I’m surprised at you.” Jake slipped into his easygoing, good-old-boy-from-Mississippi persona that didn’t even begin to hide his disquiet. “Bet Alex is not a happy Boy Scout.”

“It is not that kind of a bond.” I hoped he could understand my words since I seemed incapable of unclenching my teeth. But Jake had brought up a point I’d been too self-absorbed to consider, and I was ashamed of myself. His stirrings of hope kindled my own. “Rand, if Jake were to bond with another elf, would that kill the loup-garou virus in him, or at least neutralize it?”

Rand chewed his lip and stared at the floor. The air seemed to get sucked out of the room while we waited. Jake’s longing soaked into my skin so intensely it sent sharp pains through my head. I was still clutching the staff, and stroked my palms over it to soothe the ache. In previous trips to the Beyond, the staff had neutralized my empathic abilities. Broken, it only filtered out some. Jake was broadcasting like crazy.

“I don’t think so,” Rand finally said. “Dru was a given because she hadn’t shifted yet, and the virus had just begun to change her system. You’ve been turned, what?”—he looked at Jake—“three years?”

Jake nodded. “More or less.”

He shrugged. “I can’t see it working. It might even kill you since the virus has changed your system completely. Plus, you’d have to find an elf willing to bond with you. It’s a lifelong, unbreakable tie, and not a decision we make lightly.”

Jake’s eyebrow took a hike northward. “You’re tied to this guy till death do you part?”

“No!” I shook my head emphatically. Not like he thought, anyway.

“Exactly,” Rand said.

“That is most unfortunate for you, Monsieur Elf, since it hastens your death,” said a voice from behind us—a deep voice, sexy and husky and decidedly French. I’d know it anywhere.

Jean Lafitte had come home.

Jean blew into the room like a hurricane gale, throwing a satchel on a chair and stalking to face our little group. He pinned me with dark blue eyes that softened when I finally met his gaze, then turned to Jake. “Jacob, please show our elven friend to the room we reserve for our most honored guests, and ask Marcel to bring what he needs in terms of ban dages and clothing. Then find Josefin and send her to me with the things Drusilla will need for her toilette .”

“Dru and I stay together.” Rand moved closer to my side, and I rolled my eyes. That elf so needed a reality check.

Jean grinned at him. “That was not a request, Monsieur Randolph. The elves are accustomed to being les tyrans in Old Orleans with their mental games, but you are in Barataria now. You would do well to remember you have no asylum here, but are tolerated on my forbearance. Jacob, do as I say.”