Queen of Nothing

27. Queen of Pawns

I gasped.

He was a pale flicker of the man from Daphne's memories, but it was Andre. He was here, watching me. Watching everything.

He'd saved my life.

"Sabine? What's wrong?" James asked.

I shook my head, not knowing how to answer him. Andre's eyes locked on mine from across the graveyard, then he walked behind the birch tree and disappeared. I shivered and turned to follow James once more. He didn't press, merely offering his blazer to me once he saw the way I wrapped my arms around myself.

We made our way to James's car — a silver rental sedan — and got inside. James sat next to me in the back while his guards drove. Once the cemetery was well behind us, I explained to James everything that happened, to the revelation of who Daphne was, and what she did to me for knowing. When I told him my powers were gone, he seemed relieved. But he took the revelation of Sheridan's treachery with startling calmness.

"I wish I could say I'm surprised that he had a body count even before he was turned, but I'd be lying," James said when I was done. "I'm just sorry you had to get dragged into all of this. It isn't your fight."

I nodded, glad that I was finally able to tell him the whole truth. "How are we going to get out of here? Sheridan probably has people watching the borders for me."

"I borrowed a military jet. It's parked on a remote farm. We can slip away under the cover of darkness," James replied.

Sheridan would not take that well. By helping me, James would be turning his back on a friendship that lasted nearly two centuries. It was yet another thing he was sacrificing, another thing I was grateful to him for.

Even though I was finally safe, finally warm with the heat on and James's blazer draped over me like a blanket, I couldn't relax. I should have been glad to be leaving New Orleans for good, but guilt pricked at me. I tried to reassure myself that Tristan was all right. He'd gone to his uncle for protection and hopefully explained everything. Now that Sheridan knew the truth, he'd no doubt do everything in his power to stop Daphne. There was nothing for me to do except leave.

But the idea of Sheridan winning, after I'd borne witness to his crimes firsthand made bile rise in my throat. There really was no good outcome. Either Daphne continued to elude him, which would lead to Tristan's death, or Sheridan would kill her, and continue his bloody reign without ever paying for his crimes.

Then there was the matter of Andre. I couldn't dismiss the significance of his involvement. He intervened beyond the grave to save me. Why? If he'd always had that power, why had he chosen to spare me from an afwul fate and not any of Daphne's other victims? Could it be because he felt I had a chance to stop Daphne? That was laughable. I had no power anymore, and even if I did, she had centuries of experience and several human sacrifices on me. No, there was nothing I could do for this city or it's people anymore.

Yet I felt compelled to try. What would the girl I was when this all started think of me now? Running for my life, after suffering though countless horrors, and still wanting to turn around and stay? To try to help make things better? She'd laugh, and likely give me a hard slap in the face.