Royal Street by Suzanne Johnson

Author:Suzanne Johnson
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: urban fantasy
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 2012-03-15T05:00:00+00:00

FRIDAY/SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 23–24, 2005 “Flooded again: Breach in Industrial Canal inundates Lower 9th Ward, Arabi … Latest hurricane washes away signs of renewal.”

—THE TIMES–PICAYUNE

CHAPTER 21

Storm preparation time. Again. I spent Friday morning moving plants, using a strengthening charm on the windows, and going through my grounding ritual just in case. I still had the cypress tree on my roof from Katrina. Maybe Rita would blow it off.

Alex put his FBI badge to use and came in at midday with another cache of MREs, a generator, enough gasoline to blow Louisiana off the map without a hurricane, a half-dozen gallons of water, and way too many boxes of ammo. My kitchen looked like a survivalist camp.

Jake arrived an hour later with a pickup load of supplies, adding to the warehouse ambience my first floor was beginning to acquire. I wasn’t sure if Alex had invited Jake to ride out the storm with us or if Jake had invited himself. Alex’s scowl made me think the latter as he grudgingly helped Jake cart in even more MREs, a cache of batteries for the radio, and at least three cases of beer. At this rate, I’d be dining on military grub and drinking Abita till I hit middle age.

He also brought a deck of cards, poker being a Warin hurricane tradition. “You think you’re up to playing with the masters?” Jake motioned me to a seat between him and Alex at the kitchen table.

“I won’t be able to keep up with you guys, but I’ll do my best,” I said, confident I’d beat the crap out of them. I had learned from a master; Gerry was one hell of a poker player. I might not be a good liar but I could spot a poker tell in a flash, even without using my empathy. All I had to do was lay back a few hands and pay attention, then go for the kill.

“What should we play for?” I asked. “Pennies? Dimes?” I wasn’t rich enough for dollars, not being a Bourbon Street bar owner or a shapeshifting assassin.

Jake and Alex exchanged knowing looks. I was about to be had.

“Truth or Dare Poker,” Jake said. “Whoever has the lowest hand has to answer a question or take a dare from the person to his right.”

Oh, boy. Why did I think they’d done this before? “Okay, but I’m not doing raunchy, on questions or dares either one.” I could see this easily getting out of hand. I slumped into my chair and wondered what laying back the first few hands would cost me. There was only so much truth I was willing to tell.

I stuck to my plan, watching Jake first. He ran his fingers through his hair, then ended up with the low hand. Nervous gesture. He was going to be an easy read.

Alex sat to his right. “Have you ever been arrested?”

A muscle flicked in his jaw. “You know damn well I have, Alexander. I got two DUIs and a revoked license back in 2003.

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