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46
and she led him beneath the sweeping oak trees that dripped
with Spanish Moss.
“My sister and brother and I have lived here a long time,
Madame,” he began as the glimmer of twilight in the
clearing had faded almost to nothing behind them. “Nine
years. And yet we are not truly a part of this city; we do
not belong the way that you and your kin do.”
“Whose fault is that?” Ysabelle asked tartly, gathering
her skirt to step across some sprawling roots. “Your family
hunted the werewolves and witches on your arrival, and
even after the truce was struck, you still threaten our kind.
I don’t trust you, but that’s not your fault,” she went on
thoughtfully. “You live by killing. You can’t help if that’s
your nature.”
Elijah gritted his teeth, but with the discipline of
experience he kept his voice mild. “My family is closeknit,
and we’ve learned to keep to ourselves”—he paused—
“as I’m sure the other citizens prefer. But, Madame, by the
decree of your family we have nowhere to keep ourselves,
and so we remain homeless in this city nearly ten years after
making it our residence.”
He felt her hold on his arm tighten. “That is not my
decision,” she replied after the briefest of hesitations. Did
that mean she agreed with him?
“We would like to own land here,” he pressed urgently,
not daring to look at her. “We think that, perhaps, if you
used your influence with your brethren—”