Speak No Evil

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Dominic “Pere Mal” Malveaux stood at The End of The World, the dramatic spot where the New Orleans shore line led straight outward before sloping down into the Mississippi River, turning over the events of the last few months. This particular spot was beloved by locals, a place to walk right out to the water. A good place to perhaps celebrate a holiday, or marvel at the beauty of the Louisiana coast.

Or think over one’s failures and accomplishments, as it were.

Pere Mal swept his hands down the front of his suit, ignoring the way the salty, humid breeze buffeted him. He sucked in a deep breath and watched a tug boat guiding a ship downriver. For a moment, he felt a strange lash of jealousy toward the ship. He wanted that kind of guidance, needed it. Over and over again he’d summoned the spirits of his ancestors, normally a talkative bunch.

But now… not a peep. Since that night, the disaster at St. Louis Cemetery #1, his ancestors had been silent. When he summoned them, he could feel them, knew they were present. But they gave him nothing. No advice, no glimpses into the future or the past. No help of any kind, just stony stoicism.

It seemed that not only had the Alpha Guardians ripped the First and Second Lights from Pere Mal’s grasp, but they had also managed to lower him in the eyes of his ancestors. Pere Mal’s hands bunched into tight fists as he looked out across the river, struggling to maintain his composure.

He wanted nothing more than to lash out, strike at the pesky bear shifters, burn their heavily-warded communal house to the ground. But no, that wouldn’t do. He still needed the First and Second lights, eventually. For now, he’d have to sit back and let them get comfortable, allow their security to grow lax.

For now, he needed to hurt the Guardians in a more subtle way. The two Guardians attached to the First and Second Lights had their mates locked up nice and tight, no easy way to breach those defenses. The third Guardian was nowhere to be found… an unfortunate thing, since Pere Mal would move mountains to get his hands on a living, breathing dragon. Even if the creature never bent to his will, the money to be made from selling the blood and teeth and scales was immeasurable.

That left the fourth Guardian, though Pere Mal was uncertain whether his membership was official yet. Luckily Pere Mal had seen the new one coming, and he’d put a plan in place to make sure the shifter wouldn’t be a problem for long.

Slipping his cell phone from his pocket, he thumbed through his contacts and then hit dial.

“Monsieur,” came the man’s immediate response, his thick Germanic accent slowing his words. “How may I be of service?”

“You still have the girl we spoke of before, correct?” Pere Mal asked.

“Ja, of course.”

“I need her delivered to a residence on Esplanade.”

There was a pause.

“I do not understand,” the man replied.

“I am going to text you the address. I want her dropped in the front yard, as conspicuously as possible.”

“Monsieur, you plan to set her free? She could level the whole city with a thought, if the conditions were correct.”

Pere Mal frowned.

“That won’t happen. She’s in stasis right now, useless to me until she’s been… let’s say, activated. For that to happen, I need you to stop asking questions and follow my wishes.”

“Of course, sir.”

“As soon as I have confirmation that she’s been delivered, I will wire the funds to you as we agreed,” Pere Mal said, already losing interest.

“Sir, if I may—”

Pere Mal ended the call and returned the cell phone to his suit pocket. Looking out over the water, he felt satisfied for the first time in days. Soon, his days of groveling at his ancestors’ feet, seeking more power and influence, would be at an end.

All he needed was a bit of leverage, and he’d just set that in motion. Turning away from the river, Pere Mal smiled.

Tout vient à point à qui sait attendre.

All good things in time, n’est-ce pas? All good things in time.