Under the Bayou Moon (8 page)

“I’m scared.”

“I know,
cher
.”

It was just a whisper, but it put her at ease. They stood like that for a few minutes. She gathered strength from him, and Jacques allowed her to take as much as she needed.

He seemed to know when she was sufficiently calm, and he slowly released her. Angel gave him a lopsided smile and took his arm, closing the door behind her.

“Thanks,” she uttered aloud.

“Anytime.”

The walk downstairs and to a large, private living room was brief. All too soon, she was standing in the doorway looking at the two people she thought she’d never meet.

“Ohhh, now look at you. Don’t you just look like Christmas and New Year’s all wrapped up with a bow? Hello, Angel.”

Angel smiled at the woman who looked remarkably similar to herself. She was tall and curvy with thick, wavy brown hair. She was obviously Creole. She wore a beautiful canary-yellow gown with a black lace bolero jacket that looked amazing. She’d definitely not inherited her mother’s passion for colors. The man standing behind her was tall with mahogany skin. His hair was a salt and pepper mix, and his eyes were the same ruddy brown as the ones she saw in the mirror each day. He was impeccably dressed in a black suit, yellow bow tie, and waistcoat the same color as her mother’s gown. She smiled; perhaps they could all take prom pictures. All of her fears melted away at the look of love in their eyes.

“Hello,” was all she managed before she was engulfed in hugs and tears of joy.

A part of her felt guilty at embracing, for all intents and purposes, strangers. But they didn’t feel like strangers. They felt like…home. She thought she’d feel as if she were disrespecting the Palermos, but now she realized she loved them for making her the person she was; a woman her biological parents could be proud of.

“So how was your flight? You’ve got to tell me all about yourself.”

Her mother chattered on, leading her to the couch. She looked at her dad, who rolled his eyes and then winked at her. Apparently she also hadn’t inherited the gift of gab her mother had obviously been blessed with. For the first time in her life, Angelique Palermo-LaFleur felt like she truly belonged.

•●•

The Bertrand’s dining room buzzed with a noisy yet strained air. Everyone had eyes for Angel and her parents, who were understandably emotional. The joy at her being reunited with the pods was echoed at the table several times, and it was genuine. Jacques and his mother sat at opposite ends of the large rectangular dinner table. Angel sat on his right, her father sat to his left. Angel’s mother sat next to her. Henri and Diane Dubois had brought along their three teenage children, Max, Jake, and Monica. Madame Paulette, the Lafayette pod priestess, sat near his mother. And Charlie rounded out the number. They were nearing the end of dinner, and it was getting late. Jacques looked over at Angel. She’d held it together all night, but he could sense that she was tired.

“So, Angelique, have you ever shifted before?” Diane Dubois inquired before taking a sip of wine.

All eyes swung to Angel, who looked at Jacques. He could tell she wasn’t comfortable with the question. He nodded briefly to let her know it was okay.

“I’ve shifted three times as a matter of fact; once in college and a few times a couple of weeks ago.”

Jacques digested the information. He hadn’t known about the other shifting. It brought up all kinds of questions but explained why she wasn’t entirely freaked out by being a shifter.

As if seeing the others were not going to ask questions, Diane Dubois persisted.

“What was your first shift like? We usually practice shifting with our parents or siblings when we’re young, but then, we know from birth what we are. I can imagine it was a surprise for you.”

“Honestly, until a few weeks ago, I thought I might have dreamed it, or maybe I just wanted to forget. I don’t know. I just remember going to Miami with some friends. On the second day, I just felt this, I don’t know, pull to go to the everglades. I don’t even know how I shifted or even how I changed back.”

Jacques nodded; it made perfect sense.

“Bayous, glades, wetlands, swamps, marshes, they call to our second nature. Until you can control it, your beast will take over if you go near any of those. It can be disorienting the first few times until you learn to control it.”

“As your mate, Jacques will help you learn how to shift properly,” Sofia LaFleur chimed in.

“That’s right and we’re all here to answer your questions, as I imagine you’ll have many,” Thomas LaFleur confirmed with a nod to the group.

Jacques always liked Angel’s father. He’d been a good friend and a strong ally to his pod. He’d been young when Angel was taken, but he still remembered how resolute the sovereign had been. He never gave up, even when many would have.

“Angel, your reappearance has caused quite a sensation,” Henri Dubois crowed before sipping his wine.

“I’m not sure I’d call it a sensation,” Jacques respectfully challenged, giving Henri a silent warning.

However, the Dubois were known for being obtuse. His warning went right over his noisy head.

His wife Diane jumped at the verbal bait.

“Well, what else would you call it, Jacques? Everyone knows you’re turning thirty during the next bayou moon cycle. If Angelique hadn’t been found, your position as sovereign of the Lafayette pod would be up for grabs.”

There wasn’t much anyone could say. Diane Dubois was nothing if not candid. Perhaps it came from her decades as one of New Orleans’s top attorneys. She’d said exactly what everyone knew.

“What if I don’t want to be mated?”

This was something he preferred to discuss behind closed doors. The Dubois loved gossip. Sometimes that could be used to his advantage, but tonight was not one of those times. He was about to interject, but Angel placed her fork down and continued to speak earnestly.

“Why is being mated so important? You’ve been in power this long, having a mate can’t make that much of a difference?”

This time the priestess Paulette spoke up.

“If a bull hasn’t been mated by thirty, his ability to shift must be taken away,
cher
. At the heart of it all, we might be part human, but we’re also part animal. Mating keeps our species alive. Everyone has to do their part. It’s survival of the fittest, and in the bayou, gators are at the top of the food chain. If we don’t reproduce, we won’t be there long. Just like the exchange that brought you into this world, shifting and all that comes with it, comes with a cost.”

Jacques could see the thoughts churning in Angel’s mind. He could tell she was reading between the lines.

“So if a sovereign bull can’t shift…” she began.

“The pod won’t follow him. And since humans are no match for a gator shifter, his pod would be easy pickings.”

The priestess finished her thought. The others at the table nodded solemnly. There it was—the full truth.

Angel nodded in understanding.

“If he doesn’t mate with you, there will be a fight for the Lafayette pod, and right now the only bull hungry enough to take it is that maggot Philip Boucher, sovereign of the Acadia pod.”

His mother spat out the name as if it were rancid.

“Trust me, nobody wants that,” Angel’s father said solemnly.

Jacques didn’t want Angel to feel obligated to stay and be his mate. He knew how badly she wanted the Tiki and her life in Las Vegas, and he would exercise plan B if push came to shove. It had never been done before, but the priestess had assured him it was an option. He knew Boucher would stop at nothing to rule the Lafayette and Acadia pods, and there was no way he was letting that happen. Jacques studied Angel for a moment. She looked like a gambler with her back to the wall. What she needed was some time to digest all of the things she’d learned without expectant eyes pressuring her. His included.

“It’s getting late. We should get on with the verification process so Angel can get some rest. It’s been a long day for her.”

Angel’s mom looked around the table, challenging anyone to say otherwise. At that moment he could have kissed her.

“Yes, of course. We apologize for keeping you so late, Angel,” Diane Dubois said in her most innocent voice.

Angel gave a small smile and a nod in the direction of the Dubois. Jacques saw her mother grasp her hand and squeeze it.

Jacque knew she was a shifter, had seen her markings. The sovereigns would of course be cautious about accepting a new shifter, especially when the timing was so coincidental. Shifters had been looking for Angel for nearly thirty years; it stood to reason they’d want to see proof of her markings for themselves.

Jacques and his mother, Jackie, stood, and the rest of the occupants at the table followed. His mother was leading them to the living room when the doorbell rang.

Jacques’s beast growled as he sniffed the air. They all recognized the scent at the same time.

“Boucher!” his mother sneered before marching out of the room.

Dozens of eyes were looking at him expectedly, so he did the only thing he could do, he nodded toward the door.

“It looks like we have company. Let’s get this over with.”

“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop in to see the newest member of the gator family.”

Philip Boucher strutted into the living room of the Bertrand home. Angel wasn’t sure what she expected, okay, so she did know what she expected. She expected a big man with a huge belly, cowboy hat, and chewing tobacco. What she hadn’t expected was for Philip Boucher to look like Jeff Bridges. The man was handsome to the extreme, but from the vibe in the room, she could tell looks were probably deceiving. She’d seen his kind in the Tiki. Polished and impeccably groomed but malicious once they’d been caught cheating. She schooled her features into a mask of serenity as his eyes raked her from head to toe, sizing her up. She didn’t shy away from him. Men like him would attack at the smallest hint of weakness.

“What are you doing here, Philip? I told you I was going to have a formal verification before the rest of the pod leaders in a few days.”

Jackie’s voice held a rudeness that surprised Angel. She didn’t know Jacques’s mom was capable of such hostility.

“Hi, Jackie, I see you have your claws out. Are you still speaking for your son? I thought the man had his own tongue.”

“Why you…”

“Mom! Can you bring Mr. Boucher a drink, he’s come a long way, I’m sure he could use something refreshing.”

Jacques’s voice was cordial despite the look of hostility he was shooting at Philip Boucher.

“Thank you, Jacques. It looks like I missed dinner. I’ll have to catch something in town.”

The way he said “catch” made her wonder what type of food he meant.

“Henri, Diane, Henri and Diane’s offspring. Y’all are looking well.”

“You too,” was muttered by the Dubois.

“Tom, it’s been a long time.”

“Yep,” was all her father said. His eyes never left Philip’s. There was a wealth of meaning in that stare.

“Sofia, you get prettier every time I see you. I see you’ve finally found your daughter.”

“Yes, we’re all very happy to have Angel home.” Her mother’s smile was sincere as she looked over at her.

“Well, just looking at this beauty, any fool can tell she’s your daughter. I’ve always said Creoles were the most beautiful of all women. My first two mates, rest their souls, were both Creole beauties.”

“Yeah, what is it about you that make Creole women commit suicide after marrying you?”

Jackie returned with a tumbler of a brown liquid. She shoved the heavy tumbler into Philip’s hand.

“Don’t tell me you believe those filthy rumors, and here I thought you were a smart, educated woman. You and I know my wives were butchered by that animal you called a husband. But he got what he deserved in the end.”

Jackie lunged for him, growling, her mouth elongated and her skin instantly changed to a brilliant moss green. She was on Philip in an instant, but he held her by the neck with little to no struggle. Chaos erupted in the room. Charles shifted fully and charged Philip, who smoothly planted his booted foot on his snout, pinning him. Jacques was pulling his mom away from Philip, and her father was trying to get between them. Philip pulled Jackie toward him and whispered to her.