Page 12 of French Quarter Heiress

BEAU

Ilean back in the worn leather chair, the smug grin never leaving my face as I watch Police Chief Renard squirm under my gaze. The man is a worm, a spineless creature who'll sell his soul to the highest bidder.

And right now, that bidder is me.

"You know, Chief," I drawl, savoring the way he drinks in every syllable of my voice. "I've been thinking. The Delacroix, they've had a good run. But their time is coming to an end. The wolves, we're the future of this city."

Renard swallows hard, his eyes darting to the trio of gorgeous courtesans draped across my lap. I'd hand-picked these girls, the cream of the crop from the Vampire’s most exclusive brothels. It was a message, a way of showing that I could take what was theirs and make it my own.

"I... I don't know, Beau," Renard stammers, his voice trembling. "The Delacroix, they're not to be trifled with. They've got power, influence..."

I laugh, the sound harsh and mocking. "Power? Influence? Let me tell you something, Chief. The only power the Delacroix have is the power we allow them to have. And that ends now. They’re a scourge, a scourge we need to eradicate like parasites."

I snap my fingers, and one of my men drags in a fourth courtesan, a raven-haired beauty with eyes like emeralds. She smiles nearly purring. "A token of my esteem," I say, pushing the woman towards Renard. "And a reminder of where the real power in this city lies."

Renard swallows again, his apple bobbing in his throat. I can see the wheels turning in his head, the calculations of risk and reward. He's a survivor, this one, a cockroach who'll do whatever it takes to stay alive.

"Alright, Beau," he says at last, his voice resigned. "You've made your point. I'll see what I can do about getting the police off your back. And I might know of a few Delacroix supply caches that could accidentally get raided, if you know what I mean."

I grin, a slow, predatory thing that makes the courtesans shiver in my lap. "I knew you'd see things my way, Chief. The wolves, we take care of our own. And right now, you're one of us. Welcome to the pack.”

I rise to my feet, the girls scrambling to keep their balance. "Oh, and one more thing. Those contraband cages in the back? Consider them cleared out. The wolves will be taking possession of any... interesting items you might have confiscated."

“The cages? I don’t know–”

I produce another envelope from my inner pocket and slap it on the table.

Renard nods, his face pale and sweaty. "Of... of course. We needed to clean the place out, anyway.”

I clap him on the shoulder, my grip just a little too tight for comfort. "Good man, Chief. Good man. You keep this good work up."

With that, I turn and stride out of the office, my men falling into step behind me. We've got work to do, a city to claim as our own.

And I know just where to start.

The Lunar.

That's what I'm going to call it. A cheeky nod to our pack's lycanthropic nature, and a declaration of our intentions to the rest of the city.

It's going to be the biggest, most extravagant speakeasy New Orleans has ever seen. A glittering palace of excess and debauchery, a place where the rich and powerful can indulge their darkest desires.

And it's going to be right in the heart of Delacroix territory.

The bloodsuckers think they run this city, that they can control us with their money and their influence.

But they're wrong.

The wolves, we're the true masters of New Orleans.

And with The Lunar, we'll prove it to the world.

I can already see it in my mind's eye. The glittering chandeliers, the polished marble floors. The stage, where the most beautiful girls in the city will dance and sing for our pleasure. The gaming tables, where fortunes will be won and lost in the blink of an eye.

And at the center of it all, the Crescent City Wolves, the rulers of the New Orleans and the greater Southern underworld. It's a heady thought, a vision of power and glory that makes my blood sing in my veins. And I know, with a certainty that borders on the absolute, that nothing will stand in our way. Not the Delacroix, with their ancient magic and their crumbling dynasty. Not the police, with their corrupt chief and their feeble attempts at law and order.

And certainly not Elise, the beautiful and deadly vampire who haunts my dreams and my waking hours alike. She thinks she can resist me, that she can deny the fire that burns between us.

But she's wrong. Just like her family, just like this whole damn city. They're all wrong, and I'm going to prove it to them.

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