Page 73 of Curse in the Quarter
“Magic.” The word fell between them like a stone dropped into still water.
“Among other things.” He met her eyes, bracing for the disbelief, the fear, the inevitable retreat that would follow. “New Orleans sits at the intersection of multiple realities. What you have witnessed is part of a much larger conflict between worlds that shouldn't touch but sometimes do.”
Delphine was quiet for a long moment, and her hands wrapped around her cup as if drawing warmth from more than the tea. When she finally spoke, her voice carried the careful control of someone processing information that challenged everything they thought they knew.
“The genealogy research. The family connections I've been tracking. They're not coincidences, are they?”
“No,” Bastien said quietly. “They're not.”
“And you've known all along. Known what I was researching . . . what it meant.” Her voice sharpened. “Known and let me stumble around in the dark while people got hurt.”
The accusation hit harder because it carried truth. He had known, had watched her piece together fragments of a pattern that stretched back centuries, had allowed her to remain ignorant of the dangers growing around her.
“I was trying to protect you,” he said.
“By lying to me?”
“By keeping you away from forces that could destroy you.” Bastien set down his cup with deliberate care. “There are things involved in this that you can't imagine. Powersthat feed on knowledge, that grow stronger when more people understand their true nature.”
Delphine's laugh held no humor. “So instead of trusting me with the truth, you decided I was safer living in ignorance? While whatever this is escalated around me?”
“I understand you're angry,” he said carefully. “You have every right to be. But the forces we're dealing with are ancient and dangerous. They've been building toward something for months, using the genealogical connections you've been mapping as a kind of network.”
“What kind of network?”
Bastien glanced at Maman, who nodded almost imperceptibly. “The people affected by the incidents you've been tracking—they're all descended from families that were involved in certain events centuries ago. Events that left . . . resonances. Connections that can be activated under the right circumstances.”
“Activated for what purpose?”
“We're still trying to determine that.” It wasn't entirely a lie. They suspected the network was designed to anchor something massive, but the exact nature of the working remained hidden. “What we know is that each activation strengthens the overall pattern, brings whatever's being planned closer to completion.”
Delphine was quiet for several minutes, her analytical mind working through implications. “The Archive fire tonight. That was an escalation.”
“Yes.”
“And you think more escalations are coming.”
“I'm certain of it.”
She stood abruptly, pacing to the window that looked out on a courtyard where plants swayed without wind. “I want to help.”
“Delphine—”
“No.” She spun to face him, her eyes blazing with determination. “Don't you dare try to sideline me again. I've been researching this pattern for a long time. I know the family connections better than anyone else. You need what I know.”
“It's dangerous.”
“Everything worth doing is dangerous.” She crossed back to where he sat, her presence filling the space between them. “I'm not asking you to treat me like an equal partner in whatever supernatural conflict you're involved in. I'm telling you that I'm going to be involved whether you want me to be or not. The only question is whether we work together or at cross purposes.”
The ultimatum hung in the air, familiar in its absolute refusal to compromise. This was Charlotte's determination, the same unwavering will that had driven her to attempt rituals that could remake reality itself. This was Delia's fierce intelligence, refusing to be diminished by fear of consequences.
“There are rules,” Bastien said finally. “Protocols for working with civilians in these situations.”
“I'm not acivilian. I'm a researcher who's been studying your network longer than you know.” Delphine's smile held no warmth. “And I'm the only person outside your organization who understands the scope of what's been building.”
Bastien opened his mouth, ready to remind her he’d known her the entire time she’d been alive in this incarnation. That he’d followed her at a distance to Oxford; the only time he’d left the Quarter in her lifetime. He was acutely aware of her entire life, and while he’d mentioned it before, they never got into any detail over it. Perhaps they should have, Bastien thought as he let her angerwash over him. It had become a losing game, protecting her.
Maman, who also knew this, cleared her throat delicately. “Perhaps we should focus on immediate concerns. The night is far from over, and the fire at the Archive was merely the opening move.”
