3. Nic

Chapter 3

I paced the hallway of my wing before leaning my fist on the closed door of my bedroom.

Three days.

Three fucking days.

"Leia." I bumped my fist gently on the wood, frustration burning through me. I was in control in every avenue of my life, I had an answer for every situation, but not this one. It was like my mate was the one riddle I couldn't work my way through, the one command I couldn't give.

Fuck. I hated it.

I sucked in a breath and knocked quietly on the door. Leia was inside, but she didn't make a sound. I hadn't expected her to, really. She'd barely spoken since we returned from Conri's safehouse—only to ask the same question she always did.

The one I kept saying no to.

I waited long enough that she would have spoken if she was going to then pushed the door open. It brushed over the carpet, the loudest sound in the room. Even Leia's breathing seemed quieter than usual, like she was growing less vital with each minute that passed. Even her heartbeat thumped with less vigor.

She was fading right in front of me, taking pieces of my heart with her. I'd never connected with what people referred to as a broken heart until now. Vampire hearts were old and dried up, and mine was like a weight in my chest.

But it ached more each day as I watched Leia.

As I entered the room, I breathed in the mixture of our scents in my space, and contentment briefly claimed me. But then I saw Leia.

She was sitting in an armchair that looked out over the gardens, her gaze unfocused and her purple-smudge underlined eyes too dark in her pale face. My chest constricted. She looked more corpse-like than any of the newly risen.

Untouched beignets sat on a plate at her side. Fucking untouched. Chef sent three meals per day to my room. Plus snacks and seemingly endless amounts of hot chocolate, but Leia ignored all of it. Chef had threatened to come and talk to Leia himself, and I was almost of a mind to let him.

I didn't know what else I could do, since she obviously wasn't interested in anything I had to offer or say.

"Leia?"

Still, she didn't look at me. Not a flicker of her eyelashes or a tilt of her head.

I asked the rest of my useless question anyway. "Can I get you anything?"

I glanced at the half pitcher of water on the low table in front of her. At least she was still drinking. It was cold comfort at the moment, though.

I stepped forward and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. It had lost some of its shine.

Slowly, she turned toward me, and as she parted her lips, my heart plummeted to the floor. We had this conversation every single day. And every single day it took all of my strength to deny her. Sebastian told me that was because it wasn't in vampire nature to deny the wishes of a true mate—even when their deepest desire was harmful to themselves or others. So I fought myself.

I fought to control the situation and keep Leia safe.

But every time she asked, my resolve slipped a little.

I steeled myself for the inevitable question and the way it would slam through me to steal my breath.

"Will you turn me today?" Even her voice sounded like wind through the creaky branches of an old tree or rustling autumn leaves. Like listening to death talk.

I pressed my lips together and shook my head, threading my fingers gently into her lank hair.

"We've discussed this," I murmured. It was too hard to give her a direct no now. It felt like whatever I did, she might die. If I didn't turn her, she'd fade away. If I fed from her to help her strength by introducing venom to her system, that would hasten her descent into thrall, and if I turned her, she'd be angry and full of bloodlust until she wouldn't know herself any longer.

There was no solution that would result in us living happily together forever, and I didn't know what to do.

I bent and brushed a kiss over her temple. "I can't."

She turned her face away again, shutting me out.

"I'll take care of Francois for you. I've told you I will." A hint of desperation leaked into my tone. So far, I'd had no luck in locating him, and I couldn't bring final death to a man I couldn't find.

But Leia gave no indication she'd even heard me. Every time I told her I couldn't turn her or that I'd enact vengeance on Francois, she drew away a little more. There was distance between us now, and that distance widened with each day.

I didn't know how to get us back, how to find the Leia who'd accepted my body inside hers.

She shivered suddenly, an involuntary movement, and I absentmindedly tucked the blanket a little tighter around her. Already, her bones seemed to jut out a little more.

"I'll check with Chef about what he's making for your meal." I spoke to her back as she allowed the blanket to slip a little, making no move to keep herself warm.

As I stepped out of the bedroom, Baldwin met me in the hallway.

"Sir," he said, greeting me with the strange little formal bow he sometimes still defaulted to. "Miss Aimée is downstairs. She would like to see Leia."

I cast a glance to the closed door behind me. Anything was worth a shot. I definitely needed some help to rescue Leia from the depression that seemed to be pulling her deeper every day. Maybe Aimée was just the person I needed to do that.

"I should probably check with her first."

Baldwin nodded like he'd expected my reply. "Yes, sir."

I tapped lightly on the bedroom door as a courtesy to let Leia know I was coming back in, but when I stepped inside, she hadn't moved. "Aimée is here. She'd like to see you."

I paused, not expecting a reply. But she surprised me.

"No." The quiet word was the firmest thing she'd spoken in days.

I waited a little longer to see if she had a reason, but she said nothing else. Still, I hung on to the one word she'd spoken like she'd just recited the entire works of Shakespeare. Leia was still in there somewhere.

When I turned to leave, though, my general feeling of hopelessness returned. If she wouldn't allow Aimée to come and see her, and my presence wasn't helping, I didn't know what would help.

I shook my head at Baldwin as I stepped outside the room once more.

"Very good, sir," he murmured as he hurried away.

But it wasn't good, was it? Not for the first time, the rogue thought that I could turn Leia skimmed the edges of my mind, but it was fleeting. I had no guarantee it would put her in better spirits—more likely, it would only result in me losing her completely.

No matter how many times I considered it, it just wasn't a viable solution.

She needed more space. I repeated the words like a mantra in my head as I descended the main staircase. Aimée looked up at me as I approached, her face pinched, her make-up less expertly applied than I usually saw it. Even her hair was a little disheveled, like she'd just pulled it into a loose ponytail with no thought rather than her usual sleek and polished locks.

"How is she?" Her gaze held hope, but that quickly faded when I tightened my mouth.

"She's the same."

"The same as the last night in the cabin?" Aimée had been the one to return Leia to Conri's safehouse after she witnessed Francois kill her dad. She'd been the one to see Leia begin to shut down.

I shook my head a little. "Worse a little, but maybe she just needs more time?"

My sister stepped forward. "Time? Really, Nic?" She scoffed quietly. "I know humans say time heals all wounds, but do you really believe that?"

I drew a deep inhale. In an infinite life, things faded, but would time really help Leia get over witnessing the death of her father?

"What should I do then?" I snapped out the words. "Turn her?" I shook my head, my next words more defeated. "I've considered it. Fuck knows I've considered it so many times. She asks me every day. But I can't." I met Aimée's gaze again. "Every way I look, I stand to lose her."

Jason walked in our direction. "Everything okay?"

I released a sigh so slowly I hoped neither of them would notice, but Jason's gaze sharpened immediately.

"Still no change?"

"No." I paused before my next words, but Aimée jumped straight into the brief quiet.

"We're trying time."

Jason twisted his mouth. "What a very…human concept." But his eyes were sympathetic as he looked at me.

I shrugged. "I don't have a solution yet. I'm not sure even presenting Francois's head to her will help at this point, if she's not the one to remove it from his body."

"She needs turning." Aimée spoke with authority, and my sigh was dramatic and designed to be heard this time. There was no point in her rehashing our conversation just to achieve Jason's support for her side.

"You know I can't do it while her head is filled with thoughts of revenge." I kept my most private fears to myself, only voicing the reason everyone would understand, the one I kept trotting out every time I needed to seem rational, sensible, logical.

But… I'd never turned anyone before. What if I got it wrong? What if I changed Leia—not just from human to vampire, but the very core of who she was? I loved her. I loved her as a human, and what if turning her changed her too much?

It was Aimée's turn to sigh. "I know." She acknowledged my reason again. "So just time is the plan for now?"

"No." I huffed out my displeasure, angry at Aimée and at myself. "The plan for now is for Jason to stay close to Leia. And I need to go to La Petite Mort to oversee the renovations there. I've been away far too long as it is."

The painful memory of my casino with the front almost completely gone lodged in my mind.

"How's that going?" Aimée spoke as Jason made his way upstairs to take up his position outside my bedroom, but I didn't answer. Jason wouldn't make himself known to Leia unless he thought she was in danger, but I felt better just knowing he was near to her.

After everything we'd both been through, I wanted Leia protected. La Petite Mort was obviously not safe for her—recent events there had proven that—and it wasn't like I could take her anywhere in her current condition anyway.

"She'll get better." It was like Aimée could read my mind as she offered her reassurance, but I just nodded my head absently.

Leia had to improve. If I repeated it to myself enough times, it was almost like I could control it, even as my lack of control twisted at my gut.

So I was about to do two things I could control: go to La Petite Mort and drive myself there. I didn't want to be dependent on Jenkins if Leia or Jason suddenly needed me.

"Do you want to see the casino?" It seemed rude to just leave Aimée at a loose end in my house while Leia wouldn't see her and I was about to leave.

She tilted her head and pouted a little like she was thinking. "I could. Tomas isn't expecting me any time soon since I told him I was visiting Leia, so he probably has visions of movies or face masks or me just watching Leia eat or something. Something that could take hours."

I nodded. "Come on then. I'd like to get back and be around in case Leia starts to feel better." Even just watching her eat sounded like a dream at the moment, although Chef would probably want to come watch that, too.

Aimée kept up fairly rapid chatter on the way to the casino, like she was scared to let silence fall between us. I was glad of it, though. Her talking prevented me from slipping too deeply into my own thoughts.

As I turned toward the casino, she gasped, and her fingers curled at the base of her throat.

"I know what you said, Nicky, but I don't think I really believed it."

I glanced at the frontage of the casino, at the scaffolding and the masonry that had yet to be repaired. "It was worse than this when the bomb first hit."

I could still see all the injured and dead people, too.

My customers, my staff… All victims of Francois's obsession with my mate. And now he'd killed Leia's father. His cruel madness truly knew no end.

I drew around to the back of the casino and threw my car into a parking space. It looked pretty quiet, but Kyle was definitely inside. His motorbike was parked at its usual obnoxious angle in front of the staff door.

"Not many people here." Aimée seemed to echo my thoughts.

I shrugged. "We're not operational while we're being rebuilt."

She turned to me. "Aren't you worried your customers won't come back?"

I laughed as she took me by surprise. "Aimée." I turned to her. "I've been an expert at parting humans from their money for a couple hundred years. I don't think I'll let one small bombing put me off that endeavor."

But the words tasted a little bitter. Until I caught and dealt with Francois, I couldn't guarantee anyone's safety, and that was a worry. It pricked at the one thing I tried to rarely use—my conscience.

I left Aimée talking to one of the card dealers who was at work to list and advise what needed replacing on the floor as I strode through the area to talk to the builders.

"Looks like good progress." I spoke to the foreman, the same one who'd been in charge of the renovations to Leia's home and The Pour House.

He smiled, flashing a little fang as he did. "Yeah. Things are going well. We've repaired about half of the structure so far and we've done some of the finishing work inside."

I glanced above me, noting the new paintwork and the repairs to the crown molding. If the building work progressed like this, there'd barely be any evidence left of the damage the suicide bomber had wrought.

Well, little evidence other than the chain of events Francois had set off. My thoughts wandered back to Leia, trapped inside her thoughts in my bedroom. I needed to do something.

I spent a couple more minutes looking around the repairs, but my mind was already elsewhere.

"Well, thanks." I clapped the foreman on the shoulder, my sudden enthusiasm fake. Now that Leia was back in my thoughts, she dominated them.

I called to Aimée as I made my way back through the main game room. "I'm just going to find Kyle. You okay down here for a little while longer?"

She nodded her head and grinned. "Sure. Take your time." Then she returned her attention to the dealer and laughed at something they were talking about.

When I didn't move on right away, she waved a careless hand in my direction, shooing me away.

I hurried up the steps toward my office. Chances were, I'd find Kyle there.

"Kyle?" I pushed the door open and found him leaning over the desk, paperwork spread before him. "Everything okay?"

He glanced up and flashed me a smiled, but he looked more tired than usual as he rubbed his hand briefly over his face. "Yeah. But how's Leia?"

My sigh was automatic. That was all anyone wanted to ask me these days, and I understood it, but wished that I had something better to tell them. "She's not doing great. I hope she just needs time."

Kyle nodded like that made sense. "Sometimes humans do, I heard."

I nodded too. "I hope that's all she needs." Then I glanced at the paperwork on the desk and changed the subject. "This about the renovations?"

"Sure. Just keeping an eye on the budget."

I almost chuckled. The idea of a budget was relative. I had the money to repair La Petite Mort many times over, but Kyle always kept me as frugal as possible. "And how are things going?"

"Good." Then he twisted his mouth. "But you know Fred. Always looking to make an extra buck if he can."

I did chuckle then. "Yeah, I know, but how many other crews do you know who work around the clock?"

Kyle shrugged. "I guess." Then he looked at me, his gaze shrewd. "But are you really here to check on the renovations?"

I dropped into one of the chairs. "I need to know how the search for Francois is going."

Kyle raised an eyebrow. "It's going. I have Temple on it."

That caught my attention. "He crawled back out from under his rock?"

Kyle nodded. "Sure did. And he seems better than ever. He's on form, Nic." He added that last part like he wanted to reassure me, but I didn't trust anyone but my own men.

The involvement of an outsider, particularly someone supposedly loyal to Francois, made me wary. My private business was my private business, and I usually liked to keep it that way, but Kyle assured me this was the best way to find Francois, and I trusted Kyle implicitly.

"Did he find anything yet?" I asked. Maybe if I could bring news back to Leia, that would rouse her a bit.

Kyle shook his head a little. "Not yet, but he's investigating a few leads."

"Well, fuck." I closed my hand in a fist. "Where the hell can the fucking Prince of New Orleans find to hide that he can evade us this long?"

He shook his head again. "I don't know, man. I don't know. But we'll find him and you'll get the chance for revenge. For you, for Leia. For your mating. You'll get Francois's head."