Laughing together in their favorite café had been one thing; hearing him actually repeating the phrases while he was having sex with someone was another. Sex in his bedroom. Her room. That was their special place that was supposed to be off-limits to anyone else. Why would he bring someone to his room if he’d asked her to come to him? Did he want her to see him with someone? Had she somehow given herself away and he wanted to make it clear that he wasn’t about to have a sexual relationship with her?
She let herself out the front door and ran down the steps. There was a part of her that was so devastated she couldn’t think straight. Another part of her shook with fury so strong it was frightening. She had to get herself under control before she saw him again. If he had set her up, he was an idiot. She didn’t believe Gedeon was that stupid, but then, men could be when it came to women.
She walked toward the Café Du Monde. It was open all night and she could get her favorite drink and sit by the river and just think. Whisper and the overload of hormones she’d brought had caused her brain to rush too fast. She had to slow everything down.
Alone, as she walked toward the café, it was acceptable to cry. She’d lost Gedeon. She’d never really had him. He’d been her fantasy. She’d always known she was going to be alone. She’d been good at being alone. Finding him and then coming to depend on him had been both a miracle and a curse. She knew what it was like to share her life with someone. She would have to go back to being alone. The idea of it was like looking into a dark abyss.
Whisper. She had her leopard. She wouldn’t be entirely alone. She hugged that knowledge to herself as she dashed away the tears and straightened her shoulders. She would build her networks again and find places far away from Gedeon’s territories. He worked all over, but mostly he worked for the crime families. She didn’t. He worked for shifters. She didn’t. And wouldn’t. Now, more than ever, she would have reason to stay away from them.
There was a rowdy table of partiers and two tables of what appeared to be tourists at the café. She also recognized Remy Boudreaux, a shifter and the head detective in New Orleans. She’d met him a couple of times. He sat at a table with his wife, Bijou, a very famous singer. Surrounding them at the other tables were more shifters, presumably bodyguards for Bijou, and a couple of Remy’s brothers. Bijou sang in her club at times, and this night must have been one of those nights.
She returned the wave they gave her, purchased her café au lait and left quickly before anyone engaged her in conversation. The Boudreaux family was very nice. She knew the moment they realized she was alone, they would invite her to join them, and she didn’t want to talk to anyone. She needed the solitude to sort herself out. As she walked away, she could feel Remy’s frown and the way his alert gaze trailed after her. He was a protective sort of man.
Meiling continued away from the café down to the river, where there was a bench off the path. In the dark, few would see it. Bushes grew close, concealing the bench during the day, so at night she would be even more difficult to spot sitting on it. She could sit and stare at the water rushing by and listen to the power of the Mississippi while she regrouped.
There was no sound to warn her, not even his scent because the wind carried it out over the river, but she knew he was there. Gedeon sank down beside her, handing her a jacket as he did so.
Meiling stared straight ahead at the churning river, taking a sip of her drink, unable to look at him. He wasn’t hers anymore. He never would be again.
11
THERE may as well have been an ocean between them. Gedeon could feel the distance—not only distance, but a wall as solid as titanium separating them. He couldn’t blame her. He wasn’t even certain what had been happening lately, so how was he going to explain himself? Meiling wasn’t a trusting woman. He’d eased her into his world, careful of every step. In one terrible blow he’d ruined everything between them.
“We have to talk about this, Meiling,” he said. Because they did. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t go back to his life without her.
“No, we don’t. You don’t owe me an explanation.”
Her voice was such a thin thread of sound. Always so soft and delicate. Just sitting beside her, Slayer was quiet. “I want to give you one. I need to give you. You don’t have to listen to me if you don’t want to, but I have to tell you what’s been happening.”