Bayon/Jean-Baptiste (Bayou Heat) by Wright Laura & Ivy Alexandra

Author:Wright, Laura & Ivy, Alexandra [Wright, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2013-04-11T04:00:00+00:00

* * *

As Genevieve walked past Jean-Baptiste into the dimly lit shop, she once again reminded herself of the rules of this game she was playing. Make sure the voodoun didn’t get anywhere near the Wildlands, while acting as though that very journey was her one and only goal. All she knew was that the elders believed this human to be detrimental to the Wildlands, to Ashe and the child. And that was all Genevieve needed to know. The elders were not to be questioned. After all, they were the essence of Pantera, the wise ones and the ultimate protectors. They and their judgment were valued beyond all things.

“Remember, Miss Burel, I do all the talking,” Jean-Baptiste said, following her past a row of books, crystals, voodoo love dolls, and potions, all backlit by a mass of blue-flamed candles. “Isi’s not going to be happy about this.”

Isi. Very pretty, Genevieve thought. Exotic. “Why’s that?”

“Let’s just say that the Wildlands’ magic and her own don’t mix well.”

Lucky for me. “How would she know that? Has she been to the Wildlands?”

“She’s been to the border.”

Genevieve’s insides hummed, and she glanced over her shoulder. Tall, broad, eyes wary, tattoos and piercings glistening eerily in the candlelight, Jean-Baptiste looked like the sexiest demon alive. “Alone? Or with you?”

“Curb the questions, Miss Burel,” Jean-Baptiste said coolly. “And don’t forget you’re here in a diplomatic capacity only.”

“I know why I’m here,” she returned.

Did the elders know about this? The voodoun at their borders? Was that their reasoning for keeping her out? Did they believe she had something to do with what happened to Ashe?

“Well, well, Baptiste,” came an almost otherworldly voice near Genevieve’s ear.

Startled, Genevieve whirled around to find one of the most extraordinary-looking women she’d ever seen. Not near her ear as she’d believed, or felt, but standing a full ten feet away in front of a cobalt blue curtain. For a second, Genevieve couldn’t put her thoughts together. She blinked several times. A sudden blast of incense impaled her nostrils, and her head grew fuzzy and slow. She reached out for something to steady herself, but there was nothing.

“Isi.” She heard Jean-Baptiste’s voice behind her, his tone thick with warning. “Cut it off.”

“But it’s so much fun,” she nearly whined.

“Now,” he growled.

The scent of incense died away, and the haze inside Genevieve’s brain vanished. She drew in air, and had the most extraordinary urge to turn around and run. But her feet were planted to the floor, and her eyes pinned to the woman.

Isi.

She was dressed in skin-tight jeans, black heels, and a sleeveless red top that showed her flat stomach on one end and her firm breasts on the other. She had short, jet black hair with blue streaks running through it, a tattoo of a rose wrapped around a candle that ran from just under her right ear down to her shoulder, and a diamond piercing in each nostril. Genevieve’s mind felt murky as hell, but even so she knew that this was the kind of woman Jean-Baptiste probably went for.

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