SEBASTIAN

Nic certainly enjoyed life with all the trappings. His jet was very comfortable, and I relaxed against the soft leather of the seats after we took off. Glancing around, I remembered the time I’d ridden in this airplane and been part of the team. I could still see Nic’s most trusted guys taking up the other seats.

Damn it all. I’d been among the most trusted too.

Now I was in exile. Sent away. Banished.

And it was all my own fault.

Unbidden, my thoughts strayed to Leia, and I waited for the usual twinge of pain. But that pain had been lessening with each day, and this time it was barely there at all. Perhaps I’d ruined my life for a damn schoolboy crush. I laughed bitterly at myself as I traced one of my fingers inside a shallow crease in the leather-covered arm.

Apparently, although I’d gotten older, my actions still remained those of an immature juvenile.

But I’d thought I loved her, wanted her as my own. Hell, I’d deserved her. Surely, I’d deserved her, right? But perhaps being second was my destiny. Second in line. Turned, not born like Nic.

He would forever be the better one—the true son…The king.

Of course, he’d taken the perfect mate as well.

I closed my eyes and tried to erase the bitter thoughts of leaving Baton Rouge. This was my fresh start. At least, that was what Nic had said when he told me he was sending me away from my true home. It hadn’t been a suggestion; it was an order. I was pretty sure the forced distance was the only thing that had kept him from killing me. Well, that…and Mother.

The smirk curling one corner of my lips almost hurt. Interference from Mother. Yep, still a juvenile, then.

“Mr. Dupont?”

I cracked an eye open and studied the nervous flight attendant wringing her hands in front of me.

“Would you like a drink?”

I never used to make women nervous. Word of what I’d done to Leia must have already spread, although that didn’t make a whole lot of sense.

Leia had asked me to turn her.

I hadn’t forced myself on her. I wasn’t that guy and never would be.

Still, my conscience nagged at me. I wasn’t exactly a good guy, either. Leia hadn’t belonged to me, and turning her hadn’t been my right. That much was clear now.

Hell, yes, I needed a drink—even though I could only pretend it would erase the memories of my stupidity. Some days, I thought I’d give just about anything for an actual drunken stupor and the chance to forget past sins for a few hours.

The flight attendant’s cheeks turned pink as I continued to stare at her while my thoughts played out. “Mr. Dupont?” she prompted.

I waved carelessly. “Bourbon. On the rocks.” I paused, my lack of manners shaming me too late, then added, “Please,” as I turned to look out into the darkness. We were nearly ready to begin our descent.

The cabin behind me was reflected in the window, but I peered out at the lights illuminating New Orleans below. I swallowed the bile that rose in my throat. Nic had recently claimed this city as his, and now he’d sent me to regain order. Fucking fantastic.

I wasn’t sure if I was a member of his staff or of his family. Little more than an errand boy or his representative.

My thoughts slowed as I struggled to bring them back under control, to brush away my overactive sense of pride. This was my penance and a chance to prove myself, to regain his good favor…but damn, it was a tight leash. I was still almost within spitting distance of him, and my task wouldn’t be an easy one.

Émile hadn’t been a popular king, and Francois hadn’t exactly been a powerful prince, but Émile’s demise and Francois’s absence had left a power vacuum. One that Nic expected me to fill. We didn’t even know how much of the population was still loyal to the Ricards.

God alone knew when they’d last done a census of their population. I had no idea how many vampires I was about to encounter or even how many other supernatural creatures existed in New Orleans.

The flight attendant set a crystal tumbler in front of me, and I downed it in one gulp, forgetting to savor it as I sought to drown my bitterness.

The alcohol burned its way down my throat, but the liquid fire helped. I could do this shit. I could sort out this mess and sit pretty as the Prince of New Orleans. The tumbler thumped back onto the table as I lowered it too fast. My resolution to bring New Orleans back under control would allow me to redeem myself. I could make Nic forget my transgressions.

I hesitated. Okay, so maybe not forget. But he’d forgive me.

Again.

He always forgave me eventually; after all, that was what older brothers did for their younger ones.

And now, this younger brother needed to prove himself.

I swung wildly between bitterness for my situation and resolve, as I had since this whole mess had started. Since I’d set this entire chain of events in motion…or whatever had happened. Surely, I wasn’t entirely to blame?

As the plane angled downward, determination flooded me once more. I would prove myself again. Hopefully, this time would be the last time.

The plane touched down gently—hopefully a sign of what was to come. A gentle introduction to my new life in New Orleans sounded pretty fucking awesome.

I disembarked slowly. I had no reason to rush. But suddenly a figure waved, and I squinted into the darkness shrouding him.

“Kyle?”

“Good to see you, Sebastian,” he called back, and I winced as I searched for any duplicity in his tone. It was rare for him to string more than two words together at one time.

He much preferred silence.

Was it really good to see me? How could it be? I was a disgraced prince. The disgraced prince. Everyone knew about me, about what I’d done. Once again, I could taste the bitterness of my failure again.

But I pushed those thoughts away. I was still Sebastian Dupont, the Baton Rouge prince and now the king’s representative in New Orleans.

“Kyle.” I held my hand out as I approached him, and he clasped it. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

He shrugged, the movement easy and casual. He appeared disinterested as he glanced around the surrounding area like he was checking for potential threats—typical Kyle. The guy never relaxed. And I was much more used to this, his silent persona, rather than the one who called out pleasantries.

Then he ruined it by speaking again. “I’m taking you straight to the house so you can get yourself set up before you tackle the business,” he said. “Decided you might like to get your thoughts in order.”

I nodded and swallowed my groan. I’d never owned or managed a business before—only been on Nic’s support team, and even then, I was fairly far down the pecking order instead of being actual support. Nic’s go-to guy for anything business related had always been Ben—the guy who worked magic at turning businesses around and knowing what to do or who to contact. He also got shit done fast.