A trio of musicians played near the benches in front of the cathedral. The wind picked up, and low clouds blocked the sun. The air turned damp and cold with the threat of rain. A few drops started to fall just as we ducked under one of the archways of the Cabildo building.
A hollow, hushed atmosphere greeted us on the inside. There were a few permanent exhibits, but I didn’t exactly have time to look around as Sebastian ushered me to a flight of stairs.
The second-floor landing had been retrofitted to resemble a fancy office building, complete with a central receptionist desk. Sebastian let go of my hand as the guy behind the desk glanced up, recognized him, and gave a faint nod before returning to his work.
Our footsteps echoed loudly over the polished wood floors as we made our way down the long gallery fronting the building. The stormy light from outside poured through the arched windows, illuminating the space in an eerie glow. Halfway down, a hallway intersected with the gallery.
Sebastian turned. I followed. No windows. No artificial light. Just a corridor that got darker and darker the farther in we went.
We stopped at the last door on the right. My pulse drummed steady in my ears. Josephine Arnaud had paid my mother’s co-pay. They had to have known each other. She might even know my father. I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying not to get too hopeful. But I was so close.
The waiting room we entered was just as old and sacred as the rest of the building. The furniture looked way too expensive to sit on, and the paintings on the walls were probably worth a few million. I wished there was some sort of piped-in music, something other than this ominous quiet.
A man looked up from his desk as we approached. He was handsome, in his thirties probably, and not what I’d picture a secretary looking like. Dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. A widow’s peak. Very classic features.
He pursed his lips, eyes narrowing on Sebastian. “Have you come to your senses yet, Bastian?”
Sebastian stiffened. “My senses are right where they should be, Daniel.”
“I hardly call ditching classes and living in some rotting old Garden Dis—”
“Just tell Josephine we’re here.”
Daniel’s dark eyes held Sebastian’s for a long, tense second before they fell on me. “So you found her,” he said, sizing me up and probably wondering what the hell the old lady wanted me for anyway. “Madame will be pleased. You can go in.” He picked up the phone and mumbled quietly as we crossed the room to a set of double doors.
Sebastian turned to me, giving me an eye roll that said, This is about to be loads of fun before pushing open the door. I drew in a deep breath and prepared to meet the person who might have all the answers.
A raven-haired woman put down the phone and slowly stood, tugging down the bottom edge of a rose-colored blazer over a matching skirt, a crisp white blouse underneath. Her dark hair was up in a twist, and she wore pearl earrings and a cameo necklace. Very old money. Very old world. And, from the looks of her, very not a grandma.
“Bonjour, Grandmère.” Sebastian leaned in to kiss both sides of her cheeks.
My eyelids fell closed for a moment, and then I shook my head, wanting to laugh. Really, how much more screwed up could this get? That woman had to be in her early twenties. There was no way in hell she was his grandmother. Any fool with half a brain could see that.
Sebastian moved back. Josephine’s gaze zeroed in on me.
He’d lied. He’d fed me a bunch of bullshit and I’d believed him. God, how stupid could I be? All I felt was idiocy, idiocy for believing some jerk of a guy. And why? Because he was cute, because he had shown some interest in me? “Whatever,” I muttered, then spun on my heel and marched to the door, trying like mad not to feel hurt.
I didn’t know what game he was playing, but I was done.
“Ari.”
I didn’t stop. Sebastian’s hand closed around my arm. I whirled on him, fist clenched and wanting to take a swing. “Is this some kind of game to you, Sebastian? What, you had a free day and nothing to do, so why not mess around with the new girl? Have some fun? See how far you could lead me on? Get off me.” I wrenched my arm away, not meeting those false gray eyes. “Just forget it.” I made for the door.
He appeared in front of me, blocking the door.
I gasped, drawing up short, my face draining of blood. He’d moved way too fast.
Somewhere I heard my brain telling me to run, to hit him and make for the stairs, but I couldn’t move.
His eyes held worry and regret, and maybe even a little pleading. His jaw flexed with frustration. “I’m sorry, Ari,” he said under his breath. “I thought”—he rubbed a hand down his face—“I thought you’d be okay with it. Look at what you’ve seen so far. Remember what I told you in the café? About the doué, about being different? I wasn’t lying. We are different.” His eyes rolled to the ceiling. Both his hands clamped onto my biceps. “I’m trying to help you. I swear to you, she is my grandmother.”
I took a step back and blinked hard, trying to shake away the mental fuzziness that was invading my head. Yeah, I’d been handling all the weird shit pretty well so far. So sue me. Now it was falling down like a freaking deluge and I couldn’t escape it, couldn’t put it all into a neat little compartment and ignore it. “What exactly are you?”
A lock of black hair fell over his eye, and he shoved it back with a deep sigh. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. His jaw went tight, and it seemed like he truly didn’t know how to answer my question.
“He is an Arnaud,” came a sultry, French-accented voice.
Sebastian’s lips stretched into a grim line, as though he wished he was anything but an Arnaud.
“Come, sit down. Both of you,” she said.
After a good glare at Sebastian, I turned and went to one of two empty chairs in front of Josephine’s desk. Fine. Whatever was going on. . didn’t really matter. What did matter was getting answers about my mother. After that, I was out of there.
“Well,” she began, scrutinizing me from head to toe, “except for that mark on your cheek, you look very much like your mother.”
My eyes went wide. One hand gripped the back of the chair and the other went to my stomach. Those words sent a tidal wave of shock through me. I had fuzzy memories, sure, but always questioned them. Always wondered.
Finally a question of mine had been answered, and it left me with an odd sense of happiness and hurt.
“Please sit.” Josephine sat back in her own chair and studied me with a calculating look.
Breathe. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sebastian take a seat. My pulse was going too fast, and my limbs had gone weak. Maybe sitting down was a good idea.
“When Rocquemore House called me, I didn’t believe it. But”—Josephine spread out her hands and smiled, which obviously was a rare event, because it looked like her skin was about to crack—“look at you. Here you are.”
“So you knew about Rocquemore. You knew my mother was there.”
“Your mother fled New Orleans against my advice. It took a few months, but it wasn’t difficult to find her.”
“And then you just left her there.”
“What would you have suggested, child? Her mind was slipping away. She needed constant monitoring. The hospital was the best place for her. Unfortunately, by the time we found her, you were already lost in the system, or else you would have had a home here with us.”
Sebastian let out a small snort.
“How did you know my mother?”
“Eleni came to me for help a few months before the hurricanes struck. Your mother was a very special woman, Ari. You must know this already, oui?”