The Damned (The Beautiful #2)(67)

Never was there a better place for a murderer to hide a body.

Never was there a better place to set the stage for a trap.



* * *





“I still don’t know why you hold this place so dear in your heart,” I say to Boone.

He, Jae, and I stand side by side on the walkway outside one of New Orleans’ most infamous bawdy houses. Its stucco fa?ade is simple. Unadorned. Even its exterior is painted an uninspiring shade of grey. Unusual on a street peppered by structures in light pink and cheerful green and pale blue.

Jae frowns as Boone knocks on the door in a specific pattern. “I have no intention of accompanying you inside this sort of establishment.”

“Ever the monk,” Boone teases, his tone flippant.

He is playing his role well. But I expected nothing less. It is why he was chosen.

“Nor do I see reason in paying for any woman’s favor,” Jae continues.

“Isn’t that what happens all the time, though?” Boone arches a brow. “A boy needs a wife. His mama and papa want his marriage to bring the family more wealth and clout. So they find a girl with a hefty dowry or an inheritance.” He snaps his fingers. “Or do you only object when a woman is the one to decide the terms?”

“If you think all the women in this establishment had a say when it came to their lot in life, I’ll eat my hat,” I interject. “A choice under the barrel of a gun is not a choice at all.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Boone agrees. His grin is wide. Toothless. “But far be it from me to deprive them of their living.” He winks. “Join me for a drink, gentlemen. I promise to behave . . . for at least an hour.”

Jae’s frown deepens. I appreciate Boone in this moment more than words. It’s as if he’d been given a playwright’s script. A necessary ruse when dealing with an immortal like Shin Jaehyuk. One likely to smell our trap from several miles away.

It cannot be helped. Such intrigues are necessary. We need to catch Jae unawares while on the town, far from the familiarity of Jacques’ or the sanctuary of his heavily warded abode.

“No. As usual, I will not be partaking in your evening festivities.” Jae looks to me. “If you wish to stay with Boone, I will not object.”

I shake my head, my expression subdued. “I took a life tonight, despite my best efforts. My evening has been eventful enough.” I tip my Panama hat at Boone. “Give the ladies my regards, Casanova.”

“I certainly shall.” Boone nods with a devilish wink.

As intended, Jae and I are left alone.

We take our leave, strolling along Rampart toward the waterfront, closer to both Jacques’ and the flat Jae shares with Arjun. As we near the turn onto Royale, I pause as if I’ve suddenly remembered something.

Jae stops beside me and glances my way.

“Damn it all,” I mutter.

He waits for me to explain before he reacts, in typical Jae fashion.

I sigh. “It doesn’t concern you. Nor have I any wish to place my troubles on your shoulders.” Jae is both a simple man and a complicated vampire. His curiosity will be sure to get the better of him.

Most battles are won or lost before they are ever fought.

“What is it?” he says.

“Nothing of import.” I take a step as if I plan to resume our prior path. “I’ll handle it tomorrow, if there’s still time.”

Jae stands firm. “Sébastien.”

I turn in place. “Nicodemus wanted me to check on a shipment of malted barley bound for a Kentucky distillery. I promised I would bring proof of its arrival to him before sunrise.” I shrug. “I can attend to it later, just before dawn.”

“It’s not safe for you to travel anywhere in this city alone. Not with the Brotherhood on the prowl.” Jae pivots toward the docks. “I’ll go there with you.”

I snort. “I doubt any of our furry friends will be lying in wait on the off chance I decide to take an evening stroll beside the sugar shed. Don’t trouble yourself. I can take Odette with me tomorrow. You know how much she loves to watch the sun rise.”

“It isn’t a trouble.” When Jae proceeds in the direction of the sugar sheds, I take a measured breath and follow in his footsteps.

Checkmate.

Four blocks later we arrive at the long wooden building that houses many different types of refined sugar and molasses before they make their way up the Mississippi into the heartland.

“Which berth?” Jae asks.

I place my hands in my trouser pockets. “Forty-seven.”

We wander down the yard and stop at a series of sliding wooden doors, not unlike those of an immense barn. A cat screeches as I yank one of them open.

Jae does not enter. He pauses at the doorstep, his black hair falling into his face.

Though I understand his reticence, I feign ignorance. “Jae?”

“No one is guarding the stores.”

Dark laughter emanates from beside burlap sacks of sugar. “You are the best among us for a reason,” Madeleine says as she steps from the shadows.

It is no accident that I’ve asked for Madeleine to be the one to spring this trap. She unmoors Jae, as she has for decades. Whatever past they share makes Jae doubt his present.

And preying on doubt is the key to ensnaring a predator.