Frenchman Street_A Novel of The Sentinels of New Orleans Read online

  Before I could think of an answer, she had another contraction. “Take it out, or this baby’s coming right now.”

  “We need to wait on Cora,” Edmee said, turning to Rene. “Get out of here, all you except…” She looked at me.

  “DJ,” I said.

  “Rene, get the others something to drink and send Cora back when she gets here.”

  Hang in there, babe, Rene told me, then he shooed Jean and Kirian out of the room and closed the bedroom door behind them.

  Eugenie had lost consciousness again, so I took the cool, damp cloth Edmee handed me and stroked her face with one hand and kept the other hand on her belly, whispering calm thoughts to the baby.

  “You seemed to have stopped the contractions,” Edmee said. “How?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not sure. I’m blood-bonded to the baby’s father, so maybe the baby senses that.”

  Which creeped me out on any number of levels.

  “So you’re the one,” Edmee said. Her voice wasn’t unfriendly, but neither was it warm and inviting.

  “The one?” The one who’d been involved in Robert Delachaise’s death and left Rene without his twin? The one who’d ruined Jake Warin’s life? Who attracted chaos like iron drew a magnet?

  “The one Rene’s been spending so much time with.”

  What? Beneath my hand, the baby kicked, so I started rubbing again. “Rene and I are close friends, but we aren’t…He doesn’t…”

  She snorted. “Uh-huh.”

  I’d worry about that later. Only Eugenie mattered now.

  A soft knock on the door interrupted whatever Edmee had been about to say, and it opened to who I assumed was Coraline. She was a few inches taller than Edmee, but had the same dark coloring as her siblings. She wore her hair short and had almost as many tattoos as Rene, which was a lot.

  “How long’s she been out?” Cora pulled a chair up beside the bed while Edmee filled in what she knew of the situation, including my role as baby-soother.

  “DJ can tell you the rest,” Edmee said. “What do you need?”

  “How far along is she?” Cora asked me.

  I shrugged. “Technically, in human terms, she’s only four months, but the maximum elven gestation period is seven months. Eugenie told me the elven midwife expected the baby much sooner. Apparently, when an elven baby wants to arrive, it does.”

  Cora stared at me a moment, then shook her head. “I hate elves.”

  Yeah, me too. “We were attacked by a faery trying to get here and were afraid to pull that wood out.”

  Cora studied the injury. “That’s a hard call. It’s probably what’s slowing the blood loss, but it’s also stressing both her and the baby. I think it has to come out.”

  “I agree.” Eugenie’s voice was so soft I could barely make out her words, even with slightly shifter-enhanced hearing.

  “Eugie. This is Rene’s sister, Coraline. She’s a midwife.” Eugenie’s eyes were half-open and glassy. “Hang on, sweetie. We’re going to help you.”

  Cora took Eugenie’s hand. “Hey there, girl.” She paused when Eugenie raised herself off the bed with a gasp. Under my hand, the baby shifted and kicked. He was really agitated. Was Rand feeling this, or had he shut his son out too?

  Rand? I tried him again. Eugie and the baby are in trouble. Answer me!

  Nothing. He was shut tight as an oil drum.

  I continued to rub Eugie’s belly with my right hand while lying beside her. “I love you,” I whispered. “Don’t give up. You hear me?”

  “DJ?” She turned her head to look at me, and the look broke my heart. I couldn’t stop the tears. “Save him. Save Michael. I want that to be his name. It’s not his fault. Please save him.”

  “We’ll save both of you,” I whispered to her. “Michael needs his mommy, because you know who his daddy is.”

  Eugenie tried to laugh, but cried out instead.

  “Okay, we have to try to get this out,” Cora said. She had exposed the wound, and I cringed at what I could see of it from my vantage point. The jagged stair rail looked like it had gone in behind the baby, so I didn’t see how it could have missed a vital organ. And there was no way this baby could be born naturally. Eugenie couldn’t push or strain with that kind of injury. We needed a hospital and a surgeon.

  “What’s the nearest hospital?” I asked. If we could save her, I’d handle implications for human medical personnel later. I wasn’t a Blue Congress wizard, but Adrian Hoffman still had his magic, and he owed me, big-time.

  “Chalmette’s the closest,” Coraline said. “But she’s not stable enough to move.”

  She turned to Edmee. “Get Rene in here.”

  Rene appeared so fast, he had to have been standing outside the door. “What you need?”

  “Edmee, get me as many towels as you can find. Rene, hand me my bag, and then I need you to pull this wood out of her. You’re strongest, and I want it out smooth and fast.”

  “What can I do?” I asked.

  “Keep her calm. Talk to her.” She touched Eugenie’s cheek. “Eugenie, Rene is going to pull out the wood.”

  “Wait,” I said. “I have my bag; let me give her something for pain.” I’d been so focused on Eugenie and the baby, I’d forgotten I was a damned wizard. I had healing potions and pain-killing potions at my disposal, and I was back in the human world.

  “I’ll get it,” Rene said, disappearing and reappearing too fast to have walked all the way to the back door, where I’d dropped my bag. Our favorite French eavesdropper was out there doing his work as well.

  I pulled out a pain potion, infused it with some of my native physical magic—Charlie would have been overkill—and slipped a hand behind Eugenie’s neck. “Eugie, try to drink this. It will help with the pain.”

  “It might hurt the baby,” she whispered before clamping her lips together and watching as Cora put the cuff of a portable blood pressure monitor on her arm. The buzz of the little machine sounded like a bulldozer in the small room, which was quiet except for Eugenie’s shallow breathing.

  I wasn’t going to force her to drink the potion but, instead, took Charlie and zapped the vial of potion quickly, just enough to warm it. I handed it to Cora. “Use this on the wound after Rene pulls out the wood. I gave it some extra juice so it would work as a topical.”

  Cora had been watching me with a frown. “You’re the one.”

  “Just take it.” I gave Rene an exasperated look.

  Later, DJ. Ignore ’em for now, Rene told me. To Cora, he said, “Tell me when.”

  I clasped Eugenie’s left hand with mine, and settled my right hand on her belly again, sending a quiet thought to baby Michael. Hang on, baby. You can wait a while to be born. The world will wait for you.

  He wouldn’t understand my words, only my desperation and fear. I didn’t know if it would help or not.

  “Okay, Eugenie, this is gonna hurt,” Rene said. “You ready?”

  Her nod was the barest of movements.

  “Smooth and fast,” Cora reminded him, filling her lap with a stack of towels from Edmee.

  Rene grasped the wooden post and jerked it hard, but kept the movement even and smooth. Eugenie cried out and writhed in pain as blood gushed to fill the void, soaking through towel after towel. “Pour on the potion,” I said, watching as Cora fumbled with the stopper and tried to pour the liquid over the deepest areas of the gash. Eugenie’s breathing calmed and she stopped moving.

  “Try this.” I handed the small jar of healing potion to Cora. It was a clear salve that smelled of mint and cloves. “I don’t know if it’s enough for that deep a wound, but it might help.”

  “Eugenie, how are you doing?” I said, leaning over to speak in her ear, not only to keep her awake but to divert her attention from Cora trying to touch the healing cream to her skin. It was bleeding so heavily that most of the salve got washed away. The blood pressure monitor buzzed again, and Cora looked grim.

  Rene stepped in with an armload of t
owels and took over the job of keeping pressure on the wound. It’s looking bad, DJ. We might have to take the baby out, or else we’re gonna lose both of them.

  No. There had to be something we could do.

  I closed my eyes. Rand! If you want your child to live, talk to me!

  Nothing. I thought I got a slight buzz for a second, but then silence.

  “DJ.” Eugenie squeezed my left hand. “I know I’m not gonna make it. I want you to save my baby. Please. Please save him.”

  “Eugie, I can’t—”

  “Please.” Then she closed her eyes, her breaths coming slower and shallower. Several times, I thought she’d stopped breathing altogether, but then she’d take another shallow breath.

  I knelt my head and lifted up a prayer to a God I fiercely believed in even if I didn’t talk to Him nearly often enough. The best people died, while the worst thrived, and I didn’t understand why. Eugenie had done nothing wrong except fall in love with a man who had deceived her.

  I got two words in response to my prayer, words that appeared out of nowhere: Be still.

  So I took those words to my heart and listened to what it had to say. I loved Eugenie, but I couldn’t save her. None of us could. Realistically, even if Rand were here, he wouldn’t know what to do, and by the time he tracked down his missing elven midwife, it would be too late.

  We couldn’t save Eugenie, but we might save her son.

  I cleared my throat and scrubbed some of the tears from my cheeks. I caught Rene’s glance, and he nodded before turning to look out the window and scrubbing the heels of his hands across his eyes. Seeing his tears got mine flowing again.

  “Coraline, do you think you can save the baby?”

  She’d been watching the blood pressure monitor, but looked up at me with a nod. “It’s all we can do for her now. She’s dying. If we wait much longer we’ll lose both of them.”

  I nodded. “Do it.”

  Cora became all business. “Rene, get hot water. Edmee, you got any more towels? DJ, you got any idea what this baby will need to eat?”

  Visions of smoked sausage—the food of the fire elves—danced in my head, but surely not for a newborn. “No, but I can try to find out.”

  I leaned over and kissed Eugenie’s cheek; her skin felt cool and dry against my lips.

  Standing in the hallway outside the door, I let myself cry for a few seconds. Getting involved in my life had cost Eugenie hers, and it wasn’t fair or right. I had no doubt as soon as that baby came out, she would be gone. She was only hanging on to give him a chance.

  A warm hand landed on my shoulder, and I leaned into the embrace that enveloped me in the scent of tobacco and cinnamon. “Has she left us, Drusilla?” Jean asked.

  I sniffled and stepped back, shaking my head. “Soon, though. Coraline and Edmee are going to try to save the baby. Can you do a favor for me? For Eugenie?”

  “But of course, Jolie.” Jean’s voice was somber and filled with its own sorrow; he, too, had probably lost a good friend in Christof, and he’d always been fond of Eugenie. “You have but to ask anything of me.”

  I looked up and smiled at him. “Do you think you can go into Old Orleans and track down Adrian Hoffman?”

  Jean raised an eyebrow. “Oui, he is living in my apartment there and likely has not left, as he has nowhere to go. Should I bring him here?”

  “Not yet, although we might need him later. He is an authority on elves, although it’s all learned from books, and I can’t reach Rand. Ask Adrian what we can feed a newborn who is half elf. Maybe the baby can drink human formula, but I don’t want to bet on it.”

  Jean smiled. “I will find out this thing for you. I also must speak to the head of the Fae Hunters. Princess Kirian has told me where Christof was last seen. Perhaps we can learn his fate for certain.”

  “Convince Kirian to stay here.” The last thing we needed was Florian’s only rival running around loose in St. Bernard Parish, only thirty miles east of New Orleans. “Do you think she’ll try to run?”

  “Non, I think she understands the grave dangers and will stay here.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Be with Mademoiselle Eugenie while you can. I will return soon.”

  When I slipped back inside the bedroom, my knees almost gave way. Blood was everywhere; it looked like the bedroom where Rand’s mother had died at the hands of the undead serial killer last fall. Only instead of Vervain, a sheet-white Eugenie lay in the middle of all that blood, her belly exposed.

  Rene was by my side before I took two steps. “You don’t have to be in here, DJ. You don’t have to watch this.”

  “Yes, I do. You know I do.” I patted his arm and resumed my former spot at Eugenie’s side. I hoped she could at least sense I was here.

  “Rene, get outta here,” Edmee said, giving him a gentle shove. “This is women’s work.”

  He nodded and left.

  “I’ve sent someone to find out about what to feed the baby,” I told Coraline and Edmee. “And I can take him to his father as soon as it’s safe.”

  “Well, we have to get him through the birth process first,” Coraline said. “Are you sure you want to be in here? This won’t be pretty. The only blessing is that Eugenie is unconscious.”

  I cried again as Coraline took a sterile scalpel and made an incision across Eugenie’s lower abdomen. After that, I couldn’t watch. I lay next to Eugenie on the bed with an arm around her neck, whispering to her.

  I told her our shared stories. About how she helped me get dressed for my first date with Jake. Having dinner at Frankie and Johnny’s, eating oyster po-boys and fried green pepper rings dunked in ranch dressing. Driving to Gonzalez to the outlet mall and laughing at how it was more expensive than the department stores. Dancing in the rain at JazzFest to zydeco music. Talking about love and hate and all the in-betweens. Drinking too much wine and getting the giggles over nothing. Doing things girlfriends do.

  I told her I loved her.

  I told her that her son would have a good life, and that I would not let Quince Randolph forget who his child’s mother was.

  Sometime during my talking, I was aware of Cora and Edmee moving around, of a soft, plaintive cry, of the moment Eugenie stopped breathing.

  But I couldn’t leave her. Leaving her would be admitting I’d failed to do what I’d promised—protect her from my world and the monsters who lived there. Leaving her would be to admit that maybe I was one of the monsters.

  Strong hands gripped my shoulders and pulled me up. Rene didn’t have to say anything; he just held me while we both cried, not just for Eugenie but for Robert and Gerry and everyone we’d lost. For our world. For the way of life we’d never know again, regardless of the political outcomes.

  “Come on, I wanna show you something.” He took my hand and led me down the hallway to the living room, which startled me with its brightness. Sun still shone through the open curtains. Outside, tall marsh grass blew in the breeze beneath a blue, cloudless sky.

  And into my arms, Kirian placed a very tiny, perfect baby with a tuft of light hair and alert eyes the color of deep ocean water. I sat on the sofa next to a warm, crackling fire in the fireplace, just staring at him, and he at me.

  “Your name is Michael,” I said. “And when you’re old enough, I will tell you what a beautiful person your mother was.”

  Chapter 17

  The ambulance from Chalmette pulled out of Edmee’s drive, and Coraline followed in her car. I had already made the tearful, heartbreaking call to Eugenie’s parents, whose family home had been destroyed by hurricane flooding. They now had a small house north of Lake Pontchartrain.

  They hadn’t known she was pregnant, so telling them she’d died in childbirth was a double blow. Make that a triple blow; I’d had to lie and tell them the baby died as well, and that the father was no longer in Eugenie’s life.

  I wasn’t sure how to finesse her death with a human coroner who’d have to explain a horrendous puncture wound to her abdomen and an at
-home c-section, or how her parents would get the body for burial. Coraline assured me the Delachaise clan’s healer, who also was a human-licensed medical doctor, would take care of it. He’d done it quite a few times in mishaps with the merfolk. At least Eugenie was human, which made it simpler.

  Now her parents, who’d lost their older daughter two months ago in a “sudden, unexplained death” that was really a vampire attack, had to plan a funeral for their only other child and a grandson they would never see.

  I was emotionally numb. For a war that hadn’t officially started, the victims were piling up. Maybe that was the nature of war these days—not grand battles staged by generals and troops, but single acts of violence that were even more decimating because each loss killed off the souls of the survivors, bit by bit.

  For the next two days, while Jean returned to Old Orleans for snooping after being unable to find Adrian, and Rene went back to check on his commercial seafood business and housebuilding, I stayed with Edmee and Kirian and baby Michael. He drank formula just fine, and he slept a lot. I sensed contentment in him, and imagined he was most content when I held him. He also brought me the peace of feeling as if I were, finally, doing something for Eugenie.

  On the afternoon of the second day, I drove to Eugenie’s funeral in Slidell and spent two hours telling lie after lie after lie to her brokenhearted parents and extended family. By the time I returned to Edmee’s, all I could do to sit by the fire on emotional overload, trying to keep images of Eugenie from slipping away from me. I didn’t even have photos of her to show the baby—I’d lost everything in the fire. I’d have to ask her parents for a couple.

  I didn’t have a maternal bone in my body, or at least I hadn’t thought so. Mostly, I was afraid I’d drop him or break him or do something to scar his psyche for life, so I figured if he seemed content around me it was because he sensed whatever elven blood I possessed and could feel the bond to his father. Whatever it was, I was grateful for it even as my hatred for Florian grew into a hard anger at my core.