When she dropped her eyes to his wrist, she was sure. The rope bracelet was there, the glint of a silver bead visible in the moonlight.
She looked back, her eyes meeting Xander’s shocked stare, still locked on his mother and the mysterious man.
“You are . . . treading on dangerous . . .” Estelle said, her voice a low hiss. “The Guild . . .”
“The Guild is a worthless group of entitled hacks so far removed from the origins of the craft that they can do little more than light candles and mix herbs. You’re more concerned with . . . and parties than . . . the craft for that which it was intended.” Even broken up as they were, his words were a condemnation, not only of their parents, but of all of them. Claire felt it like a punch to the stomach. “I’m not afraid of . . . I’m no longer under your control. You saw to that a . . . time ago.”
“Everything . . . this matter is under our control. If you don’t know that yet, you have a lot to learn, even after all this time.”
The man grabbed her arm as she turned to go. Xander’s body tensed. Claire had no doubt that if the man made one more move toward Estelle, Xander would be all over him.
“You mete out . . . as if there will never be consequences. It’s time for you to be on the other side of the equation,” the man said, his face mere inches from Estelle’s. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking our previous . . . buys you any consideration now.”
They stood like that, their eyes locked, for a few seconds before Estelle wrenched free, rubbing the place where his hand had gripped her arm.
She turned around, marching straight toward Claire and Xander. They flattened themselves against the building. trying not to breathe as she made her way past them. When she was gone, Claire leaned forward, peering at the place where Estelle had stood with the man, wondering if he had left, too.
But he was still there, staring in her direction.
Xander tugged on her hand, pulling her back toward the arbor.
Claire stumbled. “Xander . . . wait!”
He looked down at her as he propelled them over the pathway. “We can talk in a minute. I don’t want you anywhere near that guy.”
They exited the pathway onto a stretch of grass. The torches lit around the yard combined with the music to create a festive air. It was hard to believe just a couple of minutes before they’d been witness to what had seemed very much like a threat.
And maybe even a reference to some kind of affair.
“Champagne?”
Xander looked at the man standing at his shoulder, then took one, tipping his head and downing the liquid in one gulp before setting the empty glass back on the tray.
Claire touched his arm. “Are you okay?”
She had never seen him lose his cool. Not once in all the time she’d known him. The only time she’d even seen him upset was the few times they argued about whether or not to come clean with their relationship.
He shook his head. “Who was that? And why was he talking to my mother that way?”
Claire pulled him to the side. Several people at Allegra’s table glanced their way. “You know who it was. It was the man from Dauphine Street.”
He shook his head, his jaw set in a hard line of denial. “We can’t be sure of that. It was dark. It could have been anybody.”
“It was him,” she insisted. “He was wearing the same bracelet. He had the same face.”
“There’s probably more than one bracelet like that in the city, Claire. And we only got a quick look at the side of his face when we were spying on that house yesterday.”
She wanted to argue. To prove her point. But looking at Xander’s face, at the combination of anger and confusion in his eyes, she didn’t have the heart.
She took Xander’s hand. “You’re probably right.”
The rest of the night was tame compared to the beginning. They met up with Sasha and took advantage of the party by heaping their plates full of traditional New Orleans food, including delicious doughy beignets, almost invisible under heaps of powdered sugar. Later, she and Xander shared a few dances, and they ended up with a bigger group that included Allegra, Laura, and Charlie and William Valcour. Claire was surprised to find that she was actually having fun.
Xander went through the motions, but she could see the strain on his face. Every now and then, she caught him looking at his mother. Claire wondered if it was her imagination that Estelle looked flustered and distracted.
The crowd started disbursing around midnight. Claire managed a semiprivate good-bye with Xander in the shadow of the big magnolia tree at the side of the Toussaint house before she met up with her parents to leave. Then she was removing the headpiece from her hair and leaning back against the leather seat of the Lexus as her dad drove them home and her mother talked nonstop about everything that had happened at the ball and everyone who was there.
“That was so lovely of Sophie to get you the headpiece, wasn’t it, Claire?” her mother said, twisting in the front seat to look at her.
“Hmm-mmm.” Claire tried to smile, but the flush of contentment she’d felt only moments before was dimmed by the reminder that she’d hurt Xander.
Again.
That she was hurting him even now as she denied the gift was from him.
The next morning, she dragged herself out of bed and took a quick shower, dressing in shorts and a tank top before heading downstairs for her shift in the store.
They’d received a new shipment of supplies from the Caribbean, and Claire spent the morning cross-referencing the items in the boxes against the Kincaids’ purchase order forms and the packing slips from the wholesaler. Documentation from their suppliers was always sketchy, usually handwritten instead of printed on a computer, and it took Claire most of the morning to decipher the almost-illegible script.
Once all the paperwork was in order, Claire began unpacking everything, transferring it into the glass jars, canisters, and tins the Kincaids used to store ingredients on their shelves. The time passed quickly, her thoughts flitting from Xander’s disappointment in her to the conversation they’d overheard between Estelle and the stranger behind the carriage house.
If the man was involved in the requisition for panther blood, why was Estelle talking to him? And if the Guild had already identified him as the man behind the order, why had Estelle spoken to him in private instead of bringing him before the rest of the Guild leadership?
She’d just unpacked the last item and was breaking down the shipping boxes for recycling when the private door opened. Xander stepped into the store, closing the door behind him. He put his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looked at her.
“So,” he finally said. “Want to check out that house on Dauphine again?”
NINE
Xander was quiet as they drove across town. Claire didn’t press him. She could only imagine the possibilities running through his mind.
They found a spot on the same street they’d parked on two days earlier.
Xander turned to her. “So what, exactly, is the plan?”
She’d been thinking about it ever since he agreed to go with her. “I think we should case the place, do our best to make sure the house is empty, and then try and get past the courtyard.” It wasn’t exactly foolproof, but it was the only thing Claire could think of.
“Then what?” Xander asked.
“We break in,” she said. “See what we can find.”
Xander took a deep breath. “Maybe you should go home. Let me see what I can find out on my own.”