Frenchman Street: A Novel of The Sentinels of New Orleans by Suzanne Johnson

Author:Suzanne Johnson [Johnson, Suzanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Suzanne Johnson
Published: 2018-07-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Early Tuesday morning, with only a few days until New Orleans’s intensive Mardi Gras parade season began in earnest, I kissed baby Michael good-bye for now, hugged Edmee, and walked outside toward Rene’s secret transport.

Before I arrived in the middle of God-knows-what situation by transporting to Rand’s house, I decided to try him again.

Rand? You there?

Nothing. I was about to give up when I got a terse reply. Can’t talk—in court. Human court.

The beginnings of a headache pounded behind my eyes.

I’m transporting to your house, I said.

I’m probably going back to jail. Feed Gruffydd and Sebastian, then go across the street and kill Alex Warin, he replied, then shut me down again.

I drew in a deep breath, held it ten seconds, then released it slowly. It slowed my galloping heart rate but told me nothing about how to handle Alex Warin and get Rand out of jail. Killing Alex would solve nothing.

Theoretically, Alex could help me tell the mayor about the preternatural world by shifting in front of the man, but he wouldn’t. The hound would trot straight to Zrakovi and start barking.

Plus, it was dangerous for the head of Elfheim to be sitting in jail like, well, a sitting elven duck.

The thought of Gruff and Sebastian, alone and hungry, finally got me moving. I stepped into the transport, which had been faintly etched into the grass, touched the tip of it with the staff so my magical signature wouldn’t show up on any Elder radar, and said, “Rivendell.”

Within a few seconds, I was face to face with a steam-snorting, behemoth-sized Pentewyn. I’d forgotten about the stupid dragon. “Hi, Pen. You hungry?”

He shrunk to the size of a VW Beetle, which I took as a yes, although he continued to steam. “Okay, let me see what I can find for you. I’ll be right back.”

The dragon purred, and I felt pleased until I saw Sebastian slinking along the top of his back and coming to rest on his head. He aimed crossed blue eyes in my direction and hissed. “Ingrate. But I’ll get food for you too.”

At least Gruff was glad to see me, judging by his dancing and cavorting. When I got upstairs, I saw that Rand had at least been able to put out multiple bowls of water and food and doggie pads and fresh kitty litter. The first two were empty; the latter two were full. Joy.

“This is some glamorous life, Gruff,” I said, replacing the pads and scooping out fresh litter. I had no time to walk him right now, poor thing, and I couldn’t send him to Elfheim to drown.

Some men took The Rand away and I thought no one would ever come back and I would die here alone except for that feline and the flying lizard and we all would starve, he said. You smell like my uncle; he’s a senior guard in the Royal Canine Corps. Did you meet him?

You mean Swill? Or something like that.

Swnllyd, he said. Did you meet him? He is a very fine officer.

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