helping others. Healing, but not yet whole. And Cee Cee meant to do everything in her power to make sure Max thrived as well. Even if it meant extending a hand in faith where trust had been broken.
“Are you looking for Sister Catherine?” The gentle voice took on a majestic timbre within the cavernous space. “She’s at the Institute this morning. I believe she’s already left.”
Cee Cee couldn’t smile at the priest who she’d once thought walked on sainted water. Just as Nica had warned, the affection she’d felt had been fashioned upon lies. That painful fracture could not be repaired.
“Actually I was looking for you. Do you have time to talk?”
“I always have time for you, Lottie.” However, Michael Furness’s words didn’t warm the way they had naïve years ago.
She followed him back into his remodeled office where she’d learned the truth about who she was just a few months ago. About what she was. His tastes were simple, befitting a man of the cloth. Comfortable seating, welcoming wood tones, and pinned upon the wall, endless photos of the women and children who’d found refuge under his care. Faces she remembered from her childhood smiled back at her. Mary Kate. Monica Fraser. Her own somber stare. Delores Gautreaux with her baby. And Benjamin Spratt. How much of the good done in the name of God was tainted by the priest’s otherworldly pursuits?
Father Michael Furness was an Ancient. An original of their species, like her mother and Max’s. Like Nica. A gatekeeper of its future. And after a lifetime of deception, he expected her to believe in him now. That wasn’t a miracle she could manage.
He waved her to a cushioned chair and took another opposite her. Then he waited patiently for her to begin.
“Genevieve Savorie.”
He smiled slightly at her blunt approach. “I wondered when you would come for those answers. I’d expected Max first.”
“He’s a bit distracted, so I’m doing the leg work for him. Part of my job.”
“For the city?”
“For my mate.”
Again a small smile at her brusque clarification. “Ask your questions.”
“She’s Marie’s sister.”
“Yes.”
“What else is she?”
“A brilliant mind. An amazing woman of insight and determination.”
She watched his expression, listened to the nuance of his words then deduced, “You were in love with her.”
He didn’t deny it. “You are a woman of insight and determination, as well. It was difficult not to get caught up in her drive and enthusiasm. She had a way that was compelling.”
“And what was she compelling you to do? And for whose benefit? Those in the North?”
A chuckle. “No. Genevieve isn’t a follower. She’s an innovator. She reminds me of your Ms. Fraser, only with a more pleasing manner.” When Cee Cee had no comment, he continued. “We met at a facility in Chicago, much like the one where you rescued Max. She was an eager student, consumed by the betterment of our race.”
“Until she decided she had a better idea.”
A somewhat cynical smile. “Exactly.”
Genevieve’s idea was to build a better, stronger, and ultimately superior species, he explained. Unlike the elitist Chosen who’d educated her, she saw the value in what the Shifters offered. Power. Strength had been bled from the intellectuals in the North. They were physically fragile and emotionally barren, which Genevieve saw as a disadvantage. Plus subjugation of a work force was never a permanent solution when it came to control. Too many unstable variables. So when whispers of the Shifter’s Prophesied One created a current of uneasiness amongst the Chosen, she sought to embrace and manipulate the idea. She began by using the ruling class’s studies against them, not to breed a better Chosen citizen but to create the means to overthrow them.
“While she remained in Chicago, grooming programs that would suit her plans, I came here to New Orleans to establish a base amongst the Shifter refugees from
“Are you looking for Sister Catherine?” The gentle voice took on a majestic timbre within the cavernous space. “She’s at the Institute this morning. I believe she’s already left.”
Cee Cee couldn’t smile at the priest who she’d once thought walked on sainted water. Just as Nica had warned, the affection she’d felt had been fashioned upon lies. That painful fracture could not be repaired.
“Actually I was looking for you. Do you have time to talk?”
“I always have time for you, Lottie.” However, Michael Furness’s words didn’t warm the way they had naïve years ago.
She followed him back into his remodeled office where she’d learned the truth about who she was just a few months ago. About what she was. His tastes were simple, befitting a man of the cloth. Comfortable seating, welcoming wood tones, and pinned upon the wall, endless photos of the women and children who’d found refuge under his care. Faces she remembered from her childhood smiled back at her. Mary Kate. Monica Fraser. Her own somber stare. Delores Gautreaux with her baby. And Benjamin Spratt. How much of the good done in the name of God was tainted by the priest’s otherworldly pursuits?
Father Michael Furness was an Ancient. An original of their species, like her mother and Max’s. Like Nica. A gatekeeper of its future. And after a lifetime of deception, he expected her to believe in him now. That wasn’t a miracle she could manage.
He waved her to a cushioned chair and took another opposite her. Then he waited patiently for her to begin.
“Genevieve Savorie.”
He smiled slightly at her blunt approach. “I wondered when you would come for those answers. I’d expected Max first.”
“He’s a bit distracted, so I’m doing the leg work for him. Part of my job.”
“For the city?”
“For my mate.”
Again a small smile at her brusque clarification. “Ask your questions.”
“She’s Marie’s sister.”
“Yes.”
“What else is she?”
“A brilliant mind. An amazing woman of insight and determination.”
She watched his expression, listened to the nuance of his words then deduced, “You were in love with her.”
He didn’t deny it. “You are a woman of insight and determination, as well. It was difficult not to get caught up in her drive and enthusiasm. She had a way that was compelling.”
“And what was she compelling you to do? And for whose benefit? Those in the North?”
A chuckle. “No. Genevieve isn’t a follower. She’s an innovator. She reminds me of your Ms. Fraser, only with a more pleasing manner.” When Cee Cee had no comment, he continued. “We met at a facility in Chicago, much like the one where you rescued Max. She was an eager student, consumed by the betterment of our race.”
“Until she decided she had a better idea.”
A somewhat cynical smile. “Exactly.”
Genevieve’s idea was to build a better, stronger, and ultimately superior species, he explained. Unlike the elitist Chosen who’d educated her, she saw the value in what the Shifters offered. Power. Strength had been bled from the intellectuals in the North. They were physically fragile and emotionally barren, which Genevieve saw as a disadvantage. Plus subjugation of a work force was never a permanent solution when it came to control. Too many unstable variables. So when whispers of the Shifter’s Prophesied One created a current of uneasiness amongst the Chosen, she sought to embrace and manipulate the idea. She began by using the ruling class’s studies against them, not to breed a better Chosen citizen but to create the means to overthrow them.
“While she remained in Chicago, grooming programs that would suit her plans, I came here to New Orleans to establish a base amongst the Shifter refugees from
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