Page 38 of Fae Devoted
Her polite smile slipped. Had his sharp Dádhe hearing caught Stephen’s introduction and her nervous ramblings, or had he known Johnnie’s name before she entered the suite?
“Johnnie, please,” she said, extending a hand that trembled. DuPont pretended not to notice, flipping it over and brushing the back with his lips.
DuPont’s perfect white teeth flashed. “And what brings you to the Rivière, Johnnie?” He pronounced itJui-nee,turning her boyish nickname into a sexy, feminine one.
Jacob debated her backup plan endlessly on the trip to Detroit. Without the first Mark, the original scheme of pursuing a prospective mate who felt unworthy of claiming his female was no longer an option. If she were discovered crossing Clanborders under pretense, Johnnie would get sent home with her proverbial tail between her legs. A Dádhe patriarch or Anwyll grandmaster might not care if a she-wolf skirted shifter law, but a Ferwyn príoh and his pack Alphas would. They’d consider it cruel to raise the hopes of their unmated clanmates and send her packing.
Lacking the diversion of a bitemark, Jacob eventually agreed a backup story that was closer to the truth was the best way to decrease the chance of her getting caught in a blatant falsehood and still be able to ask after his brother.
“I’m here for a friend.” Johnnie tugged at the sleeve of her new off-the-shoulder, electric blue dress, peeked at Stephen, and then tucked an unruly auburn lock behind her ear.
“Guardian Anderson, I wonder if you’d mind doing me a favor?” DuPont asked, waiting for the witch to agree before saying, “You remember Thlán Rutgers?”
“Yes, I’ve had the honor of conversing with your House’s second in command on numerous occasions.” Stephen’s torso strained toward the vampire in eager anticipation. “How can I be of service, Patriarch DuPont?”
“Stuart went downstairs to check on a card counting issue at one of the blackjack tables. Could you let him know I’d like to speak with him after the problem is resolved?”
“Of course. Right away, sir.” Stephen left without saying goodbye, all but accosting a waiter to take his empty champagne flute.
“Julien,” Olivia scolded, lips curving up. “Your thlán is in his suite with a…guest. And I doubt Stuart will wish to be disturbed until he’s finished his dinner.”
“And your point is…” DuPont grinned.
“Incorrigible, isn’t he?” Olivia addressed Johnnie. “Should I leave you and Julien alone to talk? Although with a room full of vampires, I wouldn’t expect much privacy.”
Johnnie played with the pendant of Jacob’s necklace and shook her head. “That obvious, huh?”
“I love my cousin, although he can be a little…”
“Pompous?” the patriarch suggested. “Pretentious? Self-absorbed?”
“Stop.” Olivia lightly slapped his chest.
“He’s been very nice,” Johnnie studied the tips of her pointy-toed shoes, “but I may have neglected to inform the guardian I wasn’t from this region.” A witch couldn’t smell the difference between individual Clans, let alone packs, and no shifter female on an official search for her Ca’anam would be interested in a casual hookup.
“Detroit isn’t a prime spot to meet unmated Ferwyn males either,” DuPont pointed out, keen midnight gaze locked on Johnnie.
He was right. Unlike the Dádhe, whose inclination was to live near bodies of water, most Alphas preferred areas with easier access to forests and wildlife when establishing a pack’s home base. In Michigan, that meant farther north.
“I don’t anticipate staying in the city more than a day or two.” Truth. She and Jacob would move on as soon as they determined Jeremiah was no longer in the area and had a clue where he might have gone next.
DuPont cocked his head and waited.
“My friend from home has a brother who was recently outcast and hasn’t contacted his family since the banishment. I was coming this way on my search anyway, so I offered to ask around while I was here.” Johnnie stuck her red purse beneath her arm, remembered Jacob was listening, and re-situated it to rest on her hip again. “He left without saying goodbye, and everyone’s worried.” Also true.
“And this outcast came to the ENC seeking an Alpha’s bond?” DuPont leaped to the obvious conclusion.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out. We, um he, my friend that is, got a call his brother was last seen in Detroit.” Damn, she was messing this up. “He hasn’t been an outcast long enough to turn feral or anything, but if I could talk to him and confirm he’s doing okay, it’d be a tremendous comfort to his family.”
“We’ll help if we can,” Olivia said kindly. “What’s the outcast’s name?”
Here we go.
“Jeremiah Grayson.” She said the name quietly, although the consort was correct. If any vampires in the room wanted to hear what Johnnie had to say, she couldn’t stop them. But Jeremiah wasn’t the name she needed to keep concealed. “He’s a tall, heavily muscled male with shaggy dark hair and—”
“A scar on his face.” DuPont rubbed his bottom lip.
Olivia shivered, her face flushed pink and then drained of all color as if the witch had seen a ghost—or someone walked over her grave.
