Chapter 3

Safely out of reach of the SUV, I looked again at the text from my assistant. The text was classic Allie in that it included emojis for emphasis: a dagger, a baseball bat, one that was for swearing, and a wine glass. The last image I understood, though. She'd added a castle, which was her way of saying she was at the house I co-owned with Eli.

The rest was a mystery. Honestly, I couldn't tell if Alice thought that I would be swearing and need a drink or if she was swearing and drinking. It didn't matter, though: Alice Chaddock was my right-hand-woman: somewhere between a Renfeld and a teenager on her bad days, and somewhere between psychic and best friend on her good days.

"Inbound" was my whole reply.

I flagged down a police cruiser on St. Charles.

"Crowe." The officer, a man I'd met a handful of times, had a name. I was certain of it. That didn't mean I could recall it.

"Distress call from my assistant," I said as I dutifully put on my seatbelt. "Garden District."

I rattled off the address, as if anyone in the city needed to hear it. Eli being outed as the future ruler of Elphame had meant that our home was now on every tour and tabloid.

"The prince?" Officer Whatshisname was already reaching for his radio.

"Blissfully unaware at my other home, and I'd like to keep it that way. I just need a lift."

I thought about Eli's reaction to the crowds outside his house. It happened more and more, and Eli was on the verge of agreeing to fae guards—although neither of us wanted that. Any guard was likely also going to report to the king, and while Eli and his uncle were on good terms, I had reason to prefer that the king wasn't in my business more than absolutely necessary.

"I'm hoping they'll go away quietly," I added.

The officer nodded, not quite saying the "are-you-daft" aloud, but his expression covered that part.

What he didn't realize was that now that my magic was back, the city as a whole felt like it was as much my "kingdom" as Elphame did. Eli felt protective of our homes, our friends, me—and I felt like my fae traits had only enhanced my need to keep New Orleans safe. The residents of my city had no idea that I felt like they were my own citizens or the lengths I'd go to keep them safe. Of course, I wasn't sure how far I couldgo. Honestly, I was a little afraid of how easily I now accomplished the same things that used to require concentration.

Sooner or later, I'd have to test the parameters of the new energy that came from being bonded to a faery prince. His energy was life-affirming, and mine . . . well, I was a necromantic witch and the sperm donor who impregnated my mother was already dead when I conceived. I was complicated.

Neither wholly dead nor alive.

Neither wholly draugr nor human.

And that was before a murder attempt when I was injected with draugr venom and before adding a bit of fae to my genetic goulash. I wasn't entirely sure what I even was these days. Tonight, though, I was trying to be considerate and patient. That transcended species. Right?

We stayed silent as Officer Probably-Has-A-Name navigated us through the streets of New Orleans. A few human stragglers were out, but fortunately, I saw no draugr.

Or faeries.

Just humans, mostly tipsy and laughing.

"Safe?" I texted Allie.

"So far. They're trying to climb the gate. Lots of cameras."

I paused at that. Tourists could definitely be intense, but that was a shade too far.

"Attempted break-in," I told the officer. "Can you get me there faster?"

He sped up but, eyes still on the road, said, "Ma'am, I know you've instructed NOPD not to use your title, but this is a royal residence. You put us in a bad place if I can't call it in and there's trouble."

I grabbed his radio. "Dispatch. This is Crowe. I need Gary Broussard at the castle if he's on duty."

"Blood? Fangers?" was all dispatch asked.

"Tourists." Frustration laced my voice.

The dispatch officer's laughter was muffled, but I caught the edge of it under the cough she tried to use to hide it. "Units en route, Ms. Crowe."

I let outan audible sigh as we stopped half a block from my home. The officer was still fumbling with his seatbelt as I marched toward a building in the Garden District that looked like it could have been one of the first in the city.

Home.

As much as my apartment was mine, this house had become my haven—and not just because it was where Eli had lived before we were bonded or because it was where we resided most nights. It was magic in a way that felt revitalizing to me.

A fence, stone not iron, surrounded an almost plain house, but as both a witch and the bonded mate of a faery, I could see the shimmer of old magic. My home practically glowed.

The tourists were snapping pictures, even though all they could see was a plain, old house. It had no balcony or gallery, no porch or Ionic columns. It was almost so plain as to be unnoticed—which required a great deal of magic in this area.

Gary Broussard, my "liaison" these days for New Orleans Police Department, stepped out of his car just as we walked up to the back edge of the crowd. Either he was driving like a teenager at curfew, or he'd been in the area.

"Officer Broussard," my ride started to say as he practically ran up beside me.

Gary held up a hand to him. "Crowe. Could you maybe wait in my car?"

I grinned and said, "Nope."

"No beheading tourists." Gary gave me a look that was mostly joking. "Davis, you handle crowd control on the street. We don't need tourist pancakes."

Davis nodded. "Yes, sir."

Gary looked at me. "Can't ever take a back seat can you, kid?"

"My house. My assistant. My city." I shrugged. "Doesn't seem like I need to sit this out."

Gary sighed. He was a sort of father-stand-in for me, and my fondness for him was why I'd done a few weeks of crowd control and monster-mashing earlier in the year. And I suspect it was why I tried to play nice with the city mayor, who oozed political charm but lacked ethical everything.

"Let's get you inside before anyone decides to come make a political moment out of this." Gary motioned me forward. "What do you need?"

I let my magic curl out like a wave that any dead or draugr would feel. It used to be a simple thing, but now it felt like a medical assessment of nature, too.

I stumbled as my magic touched the fence that separated my home from the street. It was sturdy, stone with living wood and vine coiled around it currently. That was my magic, not just Eli's. I'd added a layer of natural deterrent that was only triggered by someone attempting to scale it.

Frowning, I reached a hand out toward the vines, feeling the places where someone had tried to cut them. They'd been hacked at, assaulted, and trampled.

"They cut my wood roses," I said, staring at the vine, willing it to expand into the street like a fast-growing hedge.

"That assistant of yours said you got your juice back," Gary half-asked, half-declared as he watched my hedge shove tourists backward into the street. "That's you . . .?"

"Yep."

People—intruders, my mind whispered—were yelling and crying out as they swatted at my vines.

Silly mortals,an increasingly apathetic voice murmured. Treading on our territory.

I shoved that thought back in the box. It was an unwelcome side-effect of my newly fae side cozying up with the witch and draugr parts of my genetic soup. Apparently too many supernatural genes in a bowl made for an internal voice leaning toward sociopathic when I used any magic while upset.

My phone buzzed again, drawing me closer to the moment and away from that inner voice.

"Boss! I feel like Briar Rose!" Allie's text had emojis, of course—neon roses and cartoon swords—and then the words, "Rescue me, princess!"

I rolled my eyes, but her Allie-ness made me focus. The wood roses were spreading over the whole of the fence, crawling up the house, and had at least three tourists held aloft as if they were bugs caught by a giant spiderweb.

"Crowe?" Gary said, his voice tilting into a cajoling tone. "Could you put them back down on the ground? Bad press and all that . . ."

I noticed the phones, the recordings, and thought about my vivisection nightmares. With a whisper of a panicked thought, I sent a surge of electricity into every phone within a half block—including my own.

There was a clatter as everyone dropped their phones, which were hot to the touch. My aim was still more akin to an antique Tommy Gun than precision sniper rifle.

"Well then." Gary looked over at his car, which was now smoking. I guess I'd caught more than phones in my surge.

Then the tourists saw me, realizing what had just happened was my doing. The excitement of seeing the fae princess seemed to dim a little. Fear mingled with their awe, but a few foolhardy people still seemed to be on the awe side of the equation.

"Are those silver swords?" one man asked.

Several people were trying to restart their phones, instinct overcoming logic. Others were scrambling for pens.

"Why would my sword be silver?" I asked. "I wasn't born fae."

I was astounded that this question was still confusing to them. Someone had read just enough folklore to know that the fae were allergic to iron and steel, but skipped too many science classes. I wasn't born fae but bonded to one.

"I was born to a human. Witch by choice. Bonded to the prince," I said, loudly. That part was all true. I was also born to a draugr, butI wasn't sharing that tidbit.

"Does the prince use silver—"

"There is a publicist who schedules questions," I said, still using my crowd-control voice.

"Where is the prince?" another voice yelled.

"Sleeping," I said lightly.

"Does he mind you being a witch?"

"How is he in bed?" someone else called.

I scanned for that one. Eli was bold with me, but he was a private person. "Rattling a witch's gates isn't terribly safe, and neither is upsetting one."

I smiled so they'd laugh. Mostly all of them did. A few looked at me without even cracking a smile.

Then I drew one of my swords.

No one spoke.

"And intruding on the prince's privacy doesn't bring out my kindness." I summoned the injured roses toward me, and the rose hedge snapped a long, thorny vine out toward me. "Plus, uninvited guests upset the roses."

The vine paused as it touched my fingertips, as if in greeting.

Mine. My safety. My armor.

The vine continued to grow, thickening as it wrapped around my arm, crept across my chest and spiraled down my other arm.

The vines encircled my waist, and in the next moment, the vine cut itself away from the hedge. Now that it was separated, the two ends swirled around my legs in perfect matching coils.

In mere moments I was rose-and-thorn-covered, a nature-wrought, magic-altered armor. No weapon could cut through the rose vines when they were around me.

I knew what I looked like: sword in hand, blue hair twisted like tentacles as magic filled me, rose-and-thorn armored.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, this witch needs to ask you to leave peacefully." I smiled. "Enjoy our beautiful city. Buy a book on pirates or plagues. Our city has history on both! Have a chicory coffee. Listen to the amazing musicians. Enjoy."

I strolled forward, my vines lashing out into a fence that burst into blooms as I passed through the natural archway.