We are all crouched for attack, Estella is snarling and Keane and Fallon are excited for the next step. Linde is ready for whatever transpires. Xavier joins Estella who smiles at him.

Angelique and Sophia are nowhere in sight. The bodies of Adewale and Charra are still bleeding at our feet. Fallon is looking at Alistair who is unchanged; casually talking to Flannaghan. Fallon seems aggravated and is impatient lurching forward but he is halted in mid air.

Morte’s doors fly off their hinges inside the club and once the dust and flying wood settles I discern Myra Elnora, tattered in rags is standing in the cracked frame. Beyond her is a tiny caramel colored man with thick black hair and mustache, he is overly dressed in a tuxedo and bow-tie, “Enough Mora, release her.” His face and mood is calm. I turn back to see Estella and then Babet who are both dumbfounded.
Simultaneously I hear, “Pierre?” “Daddy?”

Madliene lets go of Babet who begins to go to the man she is calling Daddy, but I grab her arm and pull her back to me, “It’s okay Cian, I am her Daddy.” He says and I slowly take my arms from around Babet, she looks up at me and smiles before turning to her father. She slowly makes her way over to him, he is her same height. She places her hands on his face and we all watch in awe at the twenty year reunion. Babet examines her father before collapsing onto him; he is happily surprised and engulfs her to him.

She pulls away and says, “Mamma…”
“Is fine, she is with me. Why do you think I’m in this monkey suit?” He comforts his daughter with southern charm before glancing over to Estella, his once intended bride, “When this is over, you and I will talk.” He says before releasing his daughter back to my waiting arms. Estella simply nods in acceptance.

Myra has made her way to Keane’s side, flanking Linde and Fallon. Alistair and Flannaghan nod, greeting Babet’s father. “Pierre.” Alistair begins, “What is the next step, sir?” His tone is obedient.

Pierre shoves his hands into his pockets gazing at the floor before locking eyes with Madliene, who he calls Mora, “Well Alistair I think, to be fair to Cian, who has taken such precise care of my Babe, a little more information is required. Mora deserves an explanation as well.”

He takes a deep breath and begins to tell the tale, “Firstly, I have been a vampire for a long time. Not as long as the boys here,” he motions to me, Fallon and Keane. “…But a while, including when I met you, Estella.” He smiles at her. “Much prior to that I was in France and happened on a country road where a family of travelers had been slaughtered, the only remaining heartbeat detected was Mora’s.” He turns to face her; Madliene looks small and inadequate staring at the floor. She won’t face him. “I saved her,” Her face shoots up to meet his, her eyes burning. “…Or I thought I was saving her. Little did I know that she was of witch descent and when I gave her our dark gift, she wasn’t able to join her family in the afterlife, where she hoped to be reincarnated into another soul. I trained her and hoped to invoke in her a desire to avenge her family; instead she turned her disdain toward me and once her training was complete, left me; for dead. For years and years, I thought nothing of it until the night she snatched Estella from me. And home from war, no less.”

“Heartless bitch.” Fallon says shaking his head, but he respectfully silenced himself; bowing in apology for interrupting Pierre.

“There was nothing I could do for Estella, had Mora and Creighton left her body, she would have then become my vampire mate. But they took her.” He pauses and looks at Estella, pink tears welling in both their eyes, “I missed you, more than you will ever know.”
He turns his attentions back to all of us, “I immersed myself in war, something I knew well. Married falsely and had false children and when World War two presented itself that became my drive for the next ten years. I returned to the states in the 1970’s and met Brigitte,” I feel Babet swell with pride at the sound of her mother’s name.

“Nine times, we tried, unsuccessfully to have our own child, my own child. Nine times it was not to be and then I met Myra Elnora; I visited her in her bayou dwelling. I heard from various outlets that she wielded real power, supernatural power. She directed me reluctantly to Cian, her only condition was information on Keane, which I did have. Thank you Linde.” Linde tilts his head to Pierre.

“Cian, I offer my humblest apologies for using you back then but I can’t help be more than grateful for your actions, whether or not they were intended by a third party to be malicious. You see, Mora, or Madliene’s youthful ignorance didn’t take a lot into account. Which is in no way her fault, she was too young at her death to have become as powerful a witch as Myra, prior to her death. Mora…” He says to Madliene, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Madliene’s voice is cracking and her tone is ominous, “YOU’RE SORRY!!!” She throws her hands forward, directing all her power at the small group closest to her. This included Fallon, Keane and Myra but it doesn’t befall them, the creature darts from it’s dark corner and is hit, his gangly frame smacks the back wall of the club. What falls from the wall is not the creature, it’s Fallon and I look over to my brother, he is still standing beside Keane and staring like the rest of us at his naked twin. The notches in his skin a dead giveaway.

“NO!” Fallon rushes over to his brother, “Finn, no….FINN!” He stares up at me and then past me to Madliene who is cackling like a crow but it would soon cease and we would all be finally free of her control, her hatred, her power. Fallon looked to the rafters of the club; before I have the chance to mirror him he calls out, “COLLETTE!”
Madliene looks around her as if something is coming for her and it is, but not from in front of her or behind.

Fallon’s human Barbie doll drops down from the rafters her stiletto heels dig into the space between Madliene’s shoulder blades and clavicles. In a somersault move Collette drives a long clawed piece of wood directly through Madliene’s sternum. Landing on the floor Collette is still holding the stake and in turn Madliene; Mora’s heart. She pops up, turning to hand the stick to Pierre who gladly took it. Collette then padded barefoot, hiding behind Alistair and Flannaghan, perfect choices. Collette’s heels are still inside Mora’s shell of a frame as it cracks and slowly crumbles to the floor. It isn’t long before the floor begins to quake beneath us and in that moment we grabbed what was precious to us to escape the coming avalanche.
We luckily make it out, all intact.

Alistair follows Flannaghan who grabbed Collette since Fallon had Finn’s lifeless but recognizable body. Keane and Myra flank Pierre who follows after me and Babet. Once outside Angelique and Sophia are standing with Romeo and Damien who are still rubbing their necks. Linde, Xavier and Estella are last out and in Estella’s arms is little Dat whose pale face is stained with pink tears.

After we are all safely from the building, we turn back to see the site is a pile of rubble. Even the club was an enchantment? And Myra answers my unspoken thoughts, “Yes Cian, this site was a pile of rubble before Madliene, or Mora got her hands on it.” Web of lies, I think to myself and Myra again, “You have no idea how wide.”

Estella lowers Dat to the ground and kneels to his level, “You are okay, and she can’t hurt you anymore.” Little Dat throws his tiny arms around Estella’s neck and it seems as though he’s not going to release her. He does and they exchange pleasant smiles.

But the boy is still scared and confused, “Where will I go?” He begins to cry again.

From behind Estella, Angelique is waiting patiently. She places her palm on Estella’s back; Estella straightens from her crouch as Angelique addresses Dat, “You’ll go with us, okay?”

Angelique’s tone is sweet and heartfelt and I am stunned at how much of the real Angelique I didn’t know. We all will have to get reacquainted with each other as ourselves, free of Madliene or Mora’s influence.

I am still holding onto Babet who I feel tug at my grasp, I look down. She is eager to join her father who is deep in conversation with Flannaghan and Alistair. Fallon is playing with Collette, praising her for her actions while he gently places Finn’s body into his waiting car. I am hesitant to let go, and before I do I pull on her shirt where the blood is crusting over, “Whose blood is this?” I ask my tone harsh.

She looks up at me and tears begin to well in her eyes, “Griffin’s. She had him down there too, but…he’s dead.”
I pull her back to me and I feel her wince, I am hugging her too
tightly, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, we said our good-byes.” A sad smile traces her lips. She quickly recovers to save face and nods in the direction of her father. I release her and Babet races over, crashing into him. If he wasn’t vampire she would have knocked him down but his frame is a statue until he wraps his arms around his daughter.

Keane and Myra come over to where I am observing Babet’s exchange and other multiple conversations, Keane has his hand firmly planted on her shoulder and he looks like a giant next to her, “What now, brother?”

Before I have a chance to speak Pierre and Babet release their embrace and the “Little Cajun” speaks, “Cian, my grandchildren are in your haven?” He says this as if he already knows.
“Aye.” I say nodding to him.

Pierre holds his small hand out in the direction of my warehouse. I walk ahead with Keane and Myra, but I look back to see Flannaghan and Alistair flanking Pierre and Babet and it’s now obvious to me, the way Alistair and Flannaghan are positioned, that the “former King” is Babet’s father. Fallon moves his car to the front of the warehouse and inside Finn’s body is sitting in the backseat, as if he is peacefully asleep. Linde is bidding farewell to Pierre and Keane before we enter, thanking Pierre for the opportunity to be a part of the Queen’s downfall, all this I hear but I can’t take my eyes off Babet who watches her father meticulously.

Inside the Beauregard family is reuniting and introducing their fallen patriarch to the two grandchildren he has missed growing up. Scarlet is ecstatic to see her mother and Babet, hers. Mrs. Brigitte Lancaster Beauregard is hugging her daughter and granddaughter but as she focuses on my face she breaks away from Scarlet and Babet.

“Cian?” She says, slowly making her way over to me, her chiffon periwinkle ball gown makes her appear to be floating, “Thank you.” And the petite woman bids me to her level, I oblige and she kisses each side of my face. I straighten to see everyone quietly staring at us. I don’t know how to respond to Babet’s mother, I simply nod and when I look up Babet is smiling at me.

The silence is broken by Xavier, “I apologize for interrupting but…” And it’s a revelation into who Xavier really is, I’ve never heard “apologize” come out of his mouth, “…where do we go from here?”

Alistair interrupts, “If you’re smart lad, you’ll pledge allegiance to Pierre…” but Pierre silences him.
“I will not require you to stay with me, this isn’t a takeover, it’s a…it was, a revolution. And now that it’s complete; you may go wherever you wish. And if you wish to stay in New Orleans I will bother you not, unless you provoke me.” Pierre says the last part with underhanded jest.

“I would like to stay and I would be honored to join you Pierre.” He says politely, his hands clasped in front of him.

“I accept son, but know that you are free to leave at anytime.” Pierre’s hazel eyes stare deep into Xavier who bows in thanks.

I am pleasantly surprised by Xavier and wish I knew what freed him of his bounds to the Queen, his demeanor in the club was already altered.

“Under enchantment he had been following you from day one. Earlier in the night when you, Estella and Keane came to see me he was on your heels, the Queen masking his scent from you. When the three of you left he almost approached my door, but you two returned and startled him back. After the two of you left for the second time, he found the will to come calling. I removed her enchantments from him; but I removed Estella’s while she was in stasis.” She stops and laughs, “Right, Penelope should receive the credit; she was working within me while we all spoke. I apologize dear.” Myra is on a roll before Fallon chimes in.

“So Madliene was the one who fucked up my brother?”

“No, Fallon. World War Two disfigured Finn, Madliene’s power strike was enough to change him back to his human form, since he died a mutated vampire. The aftermath of the bunker explosions along the France/German border was where Alistair and Flannaghan originally found Finn, on Pierre’s orders. Eventually they brought him here, hoping I could heal him, but I couldn’t. Due to his condition he was not able to help the Beauregard’s.”

“Yeah, explain all that please.” Fallon is blunt and it’s something we, Keane and I would like to know also.

Myra begins, “Alright, when I made you it wasn’t how it was to be done. But because of the way you four were made, your blood held properties that your average bitten and fed vampires don’t. Your blood can sustain human life on a much higher level and when Mrs.
Beauregard continuously miscarried; Pierre came looking for a solution. Cian you were the closest since Keane was in Iceland and Fallon in Las Vegas. Thessaly did what she did that night partly for the Queen but mostly for Pierre. He always has an ear to the ground in New Orleans, he used the Queen, who thought she was using Cian, but she was really playing into the proper hands. Let’s just say Thessaly has always been a double agent, so to speak. Pierre used Thessaly, who used the Queen, who used Cian, who played into what Pierre wanted all along.”
“Two things; there is a lot of using going on here and can we please stop calling that cunt, Queen.” Oh Fallon, Fallon, Fallon.

“Well it’s easier than the Madliene/Mora nonsense.” Sophia has spoken for the first time since it all happened.
We all laugh, but I see Babet is turning it over and over in her mind, what our connection really means. I want to approach her but I get the distinct impression that she’s been through enough and would benefit from familial time with the father she has long missed.

Pierre begins to usher his family from my haven and I want desperately to speak to Babet before she leaves. She is gazing back at me, her mother holds Henri in her arms and Scarlet’s hand. Pierre sees the exchange, “Cian, Estella, join us tomorrow night at the family home?”

Babet looks over at her father and then back at me, she is smiling and this is my catalyst, “Of course.”

“Yes.” Estella is quiet.

“Xavier, I’ll be in touch.” Pierre says and Xavier nods.

“Until then.” Pierre opens the gate and the small family steps inside the cage, Alistair and Flannaghan stand in front as the gate comes down before them. I look past them and watch Babet until the top of her head is out of sight.

I turn back to the gathering of vampires in my haven. Xavier is deep in conversation with Sophia. Estella and Angelique are playing with Dat, tickling the little boy. Fallon and Collette are whispering to each other and laughing, I make my way over to them, “Thank you Collette.” I say my hand stretched out to her, she shoves it away and hugs me.
Collette releases me and Fallon laughs before asking, “So brother, you ready to go home?”

“Home? Am I not home?” I jest, but I know what he is insinuating. “Aye. Home.”

“I want to take him back, back to Dalry.” Fallon is serious and prideful.
“Dalry?” Keane asks.

“Edinburgh is overrun; he won’t have a restful place.”

“That’s true.” Keane agrees and then asks, “When do we leave?”

“I won’t have to check my Morningstar, because Collette will arrange a chartered plane to depart two nights from now. We will travel through the night and while we are in stasis Collette will organize the service to begin at dusk.” Fallon says, kissing Collette on her nose. “Let’s go love; I can’t keep my hands off you.” The two depart, Collette continuously giggling down the elevator shaft.

Myra and Keane rise to their feet and I know they are next to leave. Xavier and Sophia linger until Estella and Angelique are ready to go. Angelique holds Dat’s hand as they enter the elevator, already practicing their new ruse of mother and son. Estella looks at me and simply nods before saying, “Until tomorrow Cian.”

I relinquish any hardness and embrace my sweet Estella, who, even though we have had our moments, I now see as my sister. I swell with pride as she; Angelique, Dat, Sophia and Xavier descend. There is an hour before sunrise and I go into stasis thinking and re-thinking. I revel in the familiarity of my box, my scent, and my home. Home. Home to Scotland, it’s more than a long time coming. But where do I stand with Babet? Do I return to New Orleans after? I had to give this all up until the sun went down. I do. I clear my mind and before long I am freed from stasis.

The Beauregard family home is lit up the way it was the first time I saw it but there are no parked cars or attendants to do so, tonight it truly is a family home. Her family home. Estella walks slowly beside me and it seems as though neither one of us wants to go inside, anticipating the next shoe to drop as far as our connections to this family.
We finally reach the vast front porch and the front door opens; Flannaghan is standing in the doorway practically taking up the entire space. He is doing his best to exude seriousness, but he’s not old enough to hide his elation to see us, “Cian, brother please come in,” He stands aside, “Estella,” her name as if he is announcing her Oscar award win. He takes her hand kissing it gently.

Estella is hospitable, “Flannaghan.” She says smiling.

Flannaghan closes the door and flanks us as we enter the foyer, “Everyone is in the drawing room.” He mentions before leaving toward the back of the house.
Estella and I stand outside the drawing room, “You ready for this?” She asks and a sad smile crosses her lips.
“It’s now or never.” I say, stroking her back. My finger gets stuck in one of the holes on Estella’s crocheted dress, “Sorry.”

She smirks and I hear a low scoff come from her, “Come on.”

She pushes the doors open to reveal the Beauregard family, sitting, talking, and laughing. Pierre is bouncing Henri on his knee and Scarlet is showing her grandmother how to text with today’s technological possibilities. They seem happy, Scarlet smiling. She looks so much like my sister from the right angle and it is easy to discern her mother, grandmother and great aunt in the teenager’s face. I scan the room, no Babet.

“Cian, Estella, come…please, come in!” Pierre is clearly a man who has found his way back to what he holds most dear. His jovial welcome an apparent indication.

“Pierre.” Estella holds her hands out and turns her face to accept Pierre’s welcome, kissing both his cheeks as he does hers. Her tone is receptive and she seems happy to see him.

“May I introduce my bride, Brigitte?” Pierre holds his hand out to properly introduce the distant relatives.
“Aunt Estella.” Brigitte takes Estella’s hand and places it on her face, “I can’t tell you, how wonderful…” but Babet’s mother can’t finish, taking her seat back next to Scarlet who comforts her grandmother.

Pierre comes to her rescue, “She’s taking all this in as well, and she is your mother’s youngest brother’s great-granddaughter.” He says, but Estella seems confused, she was not aware of the young uncle. “He was born after you…” Pierre does not finish his sentence, but Estella’s emotions tell me it is copasetic between them.

There is a pregnant pause before Pierre breaks the silence, “Can I offer either of you anything?”

“No, thank you.” Estella is polite and I know she has fed for the night.
But as I haven’t fed since Babet was taken I graciously accept, “Please.”
“Cian, the study is down the hall. You will find a small refrigerator behind the desk, help yourself.” He turns from me to Estella, “Stella, may I speak to you in private?” She nods and rises to follow him.

I peek around the corner of the door frame and spy the library door ajar. I cross the hall and palm the door, slowly opening it. Inside Babet sits, her legs crossed on a brown leather sofa. She is decadent in a pair of crimson and cream damask shorts. She rises from the couch, the overly worn white v-neck t-shirt clings to her frame and the nude bra she attempts to conceal underneath is plainly visible. She keeps her eyes on me and mine on her as she crosses the room to the dark wooden desk that is surrounded throughout by dark wood paneling. She doesn’t speak, but keeps close watch on me as she presses a section of paneling. The wooden panel pops open to reveal a hidden refrigerator stocked with blood bags.
She pulls one from the stash, opens it like a professional and holds it out to me.

I begin to approach her slowly but I can’t help myself, my pace quickens. I push the hand holding the blood bag away and engulf her mouth in mine, pulling her body to me. She drops the bag and reciprocates, sliding her hands up my back, I have her arced until she picks up her feet wrapping her legs around my waist.

We passionately meld into each other before we hear the distinct sound of a man clearing his throat, “I apologize.” Flannaghan is standing in the doorway, “Pierre wishes to speak with you.”

I put Babet down on her beautiful bare feet and she watches me as I dip down to retrieve the blood bag that had begun to drip free. I keep my gaze on her as I put it to my lips, sucking it down like a parched child drinks a Capri Sun. I wink and smile at her as I turn to follow Flannaghan out to the hall where Pierre is waiting. Flannaghan takes my empty bag.

“Sir,” I say; bowing.

“Please.” He says his hand out to usher me back to where he took Estella.

I oblige, crossing the threshold into another paneled room, billiards and games set about the floor. A regulation sized pool table sits center of the room, surrounded by tables for backgammon, chess and roulette. Along the far wall is a stocked bar, Pierre ducks behind the granite slab and retrieves a blood bag. He opens it as easy as Babet and pours the contents into two Chrystal scotch glasses. He offers me one, I take it and smirk at him; Scotch.

He sips his before he addresses me, “Cian, I…how can I put this? I am proud of the choice my daughter has made, I wasn’t fond of Benoit. I feel that, like me, you are a good man who lost his way. As you can see I have found mine again and I think that the time you have spent with my daughter has brought you back to yours.” He stops and I feel a “But…” coming.

I am right, “But, I know you will be leaving, correct?”

I am wary of where this conversation is headed, “Temporarily; yes.”

I see him pondering something, “The bond inside your blood, the connection to Babet is a true one. But in-utero when your blood healed her mother it provided more than a bond to Babet. Yes, she is unfathomably beautiful; this is partly due to the vampire blood. The way Scarlet looks like you sister, and her uncanny ability to hear long distances; that is another. Henri’s ease when you and other vampires are around is a third.” He stops to take another sip of his glass before beginning again, “I have discussed this with Babet already and she is receptive; if you are?”

I am waiting patiently for him to continue, taking another sip from my glass.

“I detected hints of questions in her about it. The bond that is; and I, of course had a suggestion. For the two of you to test the bond.”

He stares at me and I gently place my glass on the granite bar, “What did you have in mind?” I couldn’t help wondering what all this entails.
He seems pleased at my reception, smiling and placing his glass down as well, “While you’re in Europe,” He stops to dip down below the bar again. This time he doesn’t bring out a blood bag but a bag of another sort. In Pierre’s fist is a black sack with a drawstring.

He doesn’t open it but places it on the bar, “What is it?” I ask; genuinely curious.

“It’s Mora’s heart.” He says with utmost seriousness.

“Her heart?” I am slightly mortified.

“Yes. After you and your brothers have laid Finn to rest I would like you to take her heart and bury it where her family plot lies in Bologna. When you return to the states, you are of course welcomed back into New Orleans with open arms. You will be free to move about as you please, you even have my blessing to continue your relationship with Babet.” He stops and the “But…” is on it’s way, “But, if you and Babet want to gain absolute confirmation of the bond. To know that you are supposed to…live in the same breath, so to speak?”

He sees my intrigue and continues, “Go somewhere you know she will find you, just as you found her. Let your blood call to her; as she called yours.” From inside his glass I hear his next sentiment, “Thank God it did too. What say you Cian?”

He can see I am confused, “If she hadn’t had the advanced sense of smell, she; and the children would be dead. There will be lots of her attributes that present themselves, but for now her gifts are simple.”

“Ah. May I see her once more, tonight before I leave?” I feel dismal at this, but if I honestly want to know if what she and I have is real, I must relent.
“Of course Cian, you are our guest tonight and I won’t take ‘No’ for an answer. The boys will pick you up from here tomorrow evening; your flight is an hour after dusk.

I take the black sack off of the bar and gingerly place in inside my pocket. He then hands me a small slip of paper, “These are the coordinates.”
My actions give him the confirmation he needs, “You will thank me, I know it doesn’t seem like so, but I do understand the bonds of blood.” He casts his eyes to a portrait of the women in his life, Brigitte and Babet, at least six months after her birth.
“My warehouse?” I ask and he turns back to me.

“By the end of the week, I…rather, Babet will own your warehouse. It will be as you left it, once you return.”

“Thank you.” My tone is slightly perturbed.

“I hope you don’t feel put upon Cian, you are my daughter’s mate. In our family we take care of each other. The city does have plans for your warehouse, but I can stop that by purchasing it, under Babe’s name of course.”

“No, sir. I am grateful; Babet made mention of turning it into her new studio.”

And I see the light bulb over his head, “She’s a smart cookie my baby girl.”

“Yes, she is.” We stand there and I know this is an unspoken bond I have formed with the Beauregard’s. But I feel something tugging at me, specifically Griffin Benoit. “Sir?” I ask.

“Please Cian, Pierre….call me, Pierre.” He smiles taking his glass in his hand.
“Did you have Finn kill Griffin?” I am studying him closely and I see and feel I have caught him off guard.

He recovers, smiling and taking a sip from his glass, “Yes.” He says and then tips his glass back to kill the contents, slowly placing the glass on the bar.

“I have my reasons as a father; but it was a rash error on my part…an error that became Mora’s catalyst thanks to Xavier.” His tone is ominous and I begin to fear for Xavier’s existence.
“But you can’t blame Xavier for his actions, he was under enchantment.” I say very seriously.

He begins to laugh heartily, “Oh, Cian. I don’t blame Xavier or any of you, but now that she is gone from my city; there will be great changes and improvements regarding our co-habitation with humans.”
I feel a sense of relief as Pierre and I speak further, his ideas and plans for New Orleans are monumental and favorably absolute. He and Estella have had the closure they both so longed for and it seems as if the burden that weighed so heavily on us all is a little lighter. Positivity can return to our never-ending existences, I am pulled from these thoughts by the scent of lavender and rose hips.

“Hey.” She says smiling at me and her father as she saunters over. I feel Pierre watching me.

“Hey Baby.” He rises from the brown leather chair to kiss his daughter’s cheeks, “I’ll give you two some time.” He turns to leave but stops, he doesn’t turn back around to face us, “Thank you Cian.”

I do not respond, because he doesn’t need it. Pierre and I understand each other. Babet watches this exchange and then sits down on my lap. She curls into my chest and draws her knees up; she is mine. Mine to keep, to protect, and to…Love.

I kiss the top of her head and seductively whisper, “Show me to my room.”

She cocks her head to look into me and she smiles her own gloriously sexy smile before hopping off my lap. We ascend a grand staircase and at the back of the upstairs hall she leads me into a room I pay no attention to other than the antique four-poster bed that dominates the space. I push her down on it and until the kiss of dawn I worship her body, making love to her with the sanctity of our bond. When I wake and prepare for the trip home the following evening; Keane, Myra, Fallon and Collette are waiting.

As I descend the staircase, Babet is close behind me. We reach the bottom and I turn to her, gazing once more upon her steadfast beauty. I bend to kiss her and as I do, I am inundated with the swell of cheerful emotions surrounding the room.

I smile; as does she before whispering to me, “I love you Cian.”

I am happily crumbling inside, those words I haven’t heard since I was young; since I was mortal. I sincerely don’t want to leave, but I know I must. I crush her to me, taking as mush of her scent in as I can, “I love you….I will be seeing you.” I say to her sweetly the warmth welling in my eyes.
I release her and walk out the door.



EPILOGUE
Pierre and Estella-Estella’s POV:

“Please.” Pierre holds out his hand to usher me into his billiards room.
I slide through the door and make my way past the gaming tables. He offers me a seat; the old leather chairs are surprisingly supple. I watch him take a seat across from me, smiling as he does. He hasn’t aged a day since the night he returned home from war. His thick mustache, black hair and Creole facial features as prominent as they were then. His attire has changed though; I must say Pierre looks good in loose fitting jeans and polo.

“Pierre, I…” but he doesn’t let me finish, that hasn’t changed.

“Stella, it’s apparent to me that you have the capability to expand your gifts but have been hindered from doing so, correct?” He is politely serious.

He has his business face on, so I keep it professional, “Yes. “Mora” kept me from developing it further than her uses for it. Why?”

He shifts in his chair, folding one leg over the other, “I want to you to focus all your energy on doing just that. Do not do it because I have asked you, do it because you have the opportunity and it’s long overdue. As tightly as Mora had that townhouse wrapped in enchantments; you were still able to pull the human’s scent out.”

I am visibly surprised and he sees this.

“Scarlet; darling. Scarlet told me. She said after multiple attempts, you were exhausted but still managed to. That; my dear is potential, potential I simply cannot ignore.” He says eyeing me, waiting. I turn my gaze to my hands.
“Do I have to work for you?” I don’t look at him.

He has his little fingers crossed into each other, but he shifts again and rises from the chair. I peek up just in time to see him hovering in front of me. His hand grazes my face and tilts it to meet his, “Stella, what is it?”
I take a deep breath, “You just can’t imagine what we have all been through with…Mora.” I begin to feel the tears, “I can’t…”

“Shush; girl.” He says bending down to my level. He quietly takes my hands in his, “As I said, I am not taking over. I am revolutionizing; and I want you, Xavier, Angelique and Sophia by my side.”

“And Dat?” I say, the baubles teetering on the edge of my lids.

“Dat.” He says and takes a deep breath.
“Yes, Pierre. Dat?” I am borderline angry; I know this look.

After a long pause he finally speaks, “Yes…and Dat.”

“I remember that tone Pierre and I don’t like it.” I say staring into him.

“Fair enough. Dat; of course is a forbidden turn…” I cut him off.

“Yes, but…”
He simply stops, I remember this too. “I apologize, please continue.” I say.

“Thank you.” God I hate that tone, snarky shit.

“As I was saying, Dat is a forbidden turn. However, I would be honored if he would join us. I don’t want to influence the behavior of child-transformation, but our kind need to know why and Dat will be a prime example.” He simply smiles.

Relief comes over me. Poor Dat can’t endure anymore heartache and hardship. Little thing has been through enough, bless his tiny heart.

I feel Pierre waiting for my response. “Thank you Pierre.”
He nods but I feel he has more to say. He sits back in his chair, “Stella, the fact of the matter is that I do know what you have been through with Mora.
All of you.” He crosses his legs again, “I want to help you, all of you. Angelique needs to get healthy and re-bond with her sister. Xavier seems well adjusted but he will have to undergo etiquette re-adjustment according to my rein. Sophia as well. They are newer and programmed to Mora’s agenda.”

I take all this in; I can’t help but jest with him, “Like a vampire political team?” I say, slightly giggling.
He is smiling but I know my joke is anything but, “Yes. But Stella, I am not a politician. I am a monarch.”
I nod and take a deep breath, “Okay.” I say but my trust in this is hanging by a thread.

He changes the subject and I am grateful, “Where are you all staying?”
“Audubon.” I reply and his face nearly washes white. For him that is saying something.

“Why there?”

“Interesting choice, I know; but once she was dead I assumed the enchantments…”
Pierre cuts me off, “I would find alternate lodgings if I were you. You all are welcome to stay here as long as you need.”

I stand and he mirrors me, “Thank you but I’m sure by now Sophia has located some hip loft for us to move to.”
He smiles and nods before saying, “I’ll be in touch then?”

“Yes.” I kiss his cheeks before turning on my heel to leave.

Pierre follows me out and in the hall Flannaghan is waiting. “Flannaghan, get Cian after you’ve shown Estella out. He and Babet are in the library.”

“Of course; Estella?” Flannaghan says holding his hand out to me.

I make my way to the front door and look over my left shoulder, through the crack in the library door I see Cian has Babet arched backward passionately kissing her. I smile to myself as I close the front door behind me.

Walking across the lawn of the Beauregard family home I begin to feel renewed. Pierre had always been one to do what he says he will do and after seeing Cian and Babet I feel that good things will come from it. Angelique and I can start a new life with Dat. Xavier and Sophia have become rather close in the last twenty four hours and perhaps it was there all along for them. It will be a nice change to have relationships with others that are not influenced by a maniacal lunatic.

Finally; Peace.

 

EPILOGUE
Cian, Fallon, Collette, Myra, Keane-Cian POV:

The door closes behind me and as I watch my brothers, Myra and Collette clamber into the waiting limousine I can’t help but feel the unyielding urge to let them go without me. I stand idle before Fallon scolds me.

“Cian, time is of the essence.”

I nod to him, but I refuse to look back, it would be my undoing. I saunter over to the open door where Flannaghan stands waiting. His face shows a hint of knowledge but I don’t let it faze me.

Babet is safe with her father, this I know. With henchmen… or colleagues, rather; like Alistair and Flannaghan and the Queen abolished I need not worry for her. Worry is not my greatest concern now; my heartache and the emotional turmoil I will endure until I see her magnificent face again will be difficult to bare. All this I ponder while in route to the airport. I am pulled from my reverie by Fallon’s booming voice and that of Keane’s delightful laughter.

“Tell me this…Linde and the Vikings were here way before Amerigo; I mean…”
Keane roars with laughter, “Aye and remember when Ponce wanted us to go to Florida with him.”

I can’t help but have a wide smile on this one; it took us hours to explain to Ponce that we didn’t need to go looking for a fountain of youth. Still to this day I don’t think he grasped it, something had to have been lost in translation.

I look over to Myra and Collette who gaze lovingly at their men and again I am struck with a wrenching demand for Babet. They remain quiet as Keane and Fallon rehash old adventures. Myra already knowing everything we speak of and Collette I assume has heard it time and time again from Fallon. A slight smile crosses my lips as my eyes dart from each woman, but I know Myra is always in my head and as I think this she meets my eyes and smiles. I turn from her to watch the infinite yellow line on the roadside, listening to my brothers.

“…The English Reformation!” Keane blurts.

“It was so good to be a pagan in those days.” Fallon retorts.

Before long we arrive at the New Orleans airport, our limousine granted access on the tarmac. We all pile out and into a waiting private jet. I am last to ascend the small staircase, but before I cross the threshold I take one last glance, whiff and feel of New Orleans and Babet Ben…Beauregard.


Revelations of Cian



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LOOK FOR THE BEGINNING OF THE FOLLOW UP TO Revelations of Cian, Babet's Epiphany NEXT WEEK!!!