Rhianne took an obedient sip. He was wise—the flavors of the warm rice and the cool beer complemented each other well. He also was trying to distract her from prying into his hardships.
“I understand why Dylan wants me to spy on Walther,” she said, returning to their earlier topic. “It’s not only because he’s worried about what a hoch alfar lord, even an ambitious one, is up to. He wants to know why my father is helping him.”
“Probably.” Ben ran his spoon through the gumbo. “If your dad’s so dangerous, why did Lady Aisling marry the guy in the first place?”
Rhianne had wondered this most of her life. “She fell in love, she told me. My father is a very handsome and compelling man. Other ladies have fallen hard for him before, during, and since their marriage. Ivor de Erkkonen is powerful, smart, and extremely confident. When my mother was young, he was irresistible, so she says. She said she fell to the delusion many women have—that she could change him into something good.” Rhianne let out a sad breath. “Maybe some women do transform other men, but my father was impossible. A man has to have some goodness in him, even if buried deep, for it to work.”
“Yeah, some of us are true sweethearts.” Ben assumed a mock modest expression, which evaporated. “Your dad, not so much?”
“I was very young when my mother sent him away, and I don’t remember much about their marriage. He certainly never had any warm feelings for me. He regarded me more like a game piece he could use when he needed. My mother kept him away from me, which I didn’t understand then, but for which I’m very grateful now. I grew up in innocence, thanks to her. She encouraged my studies, and for me to travel far from home once I’d finished university, to remove myself from his domains. He’s mostly ignored me until now.”
Again, Ben listened with his full attention, nodding along in sympathy.
“He’ll have a harder time reaching you here,” he declared. “The power of Faerie only extends so far into the human world. Too much iron. Which, looking at you, doesn’t bother you at all.”
“I’m not hoch alfar.” Rhianne took another sip of the beer. Still good. “Iron confounds hoch alfar magic, changes the very molecules in their bodies. They could have corrected that genetic flaw centuries ago, but they preferred to keep their magic as intact as possible. Becoming resistant to iron would have robbed them of some of their power. I’ve done research on the subject.”
Ben’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “Read a lot as a kid, did you?”
“Pretty much everything I could. I took a degree at the university. There’s not a translation in English for that degree, I don’t think, but in Tuil Erdannan, I am a master in astronomy and the science of the heavens.”
“Ah, a learned woman as well as a beautiful one.”
He was teasing, but Rhianne flushed in enjoyment. She had no business being flattered by him—her stay here was temporary, and they were from completely different worlds. Even in Faerie their paths never would have crossed.
Ben tucked into his gumbo, oblivious to her fluster. “If you like to read, the house has a huge library, including books on astronomy and astrophysics. It can find you what you’re looking for…if you ask it nicely.”
“A sentient house,” Rhianne said thoughtfully. “How did that happen?”
“Who knows? It’s on a ley line, but there’s also a lot of woo-woo stuff around here. Maybe it taps into that.”
Rhianne’s brows went up. “Woo-woo?”
“Magical shit. Unexplained phenomenon. There isn’t much in the human world, but you get pockets of magic here and there, and it’s concentrated in this area. There are many popular vampire stories set in New Orleans.”
“Are there vampires here?” Rhianne glanced about, but the inhabitants of the restaurant were normal humans. She didn’t have the gift for discerning auras, but she knew the telltale signs of magical creatures.
“Nah. They avoid the place. Had a run-in with a few vampire-like beings Dylan thought about using to help Shifters, but Dylan changed his mind. After I worked my ass off contacting them and setting up meets. Dylan decides they’re too dangerous, and that’s the last I saw of them. Fine by me. They gave me the creeps.”
“This is a very interesting world.” Rhianne finished the jambalaya, which was filling, but she could have eaten more.
Janie came by just then with a plate of doughy pastry covered with icing sugar. “Beignets. On the house.” She grinned at Ben, swept away their dirty dishes and settled the sweets between them. The young man hurried out of nowhere with small, clean plates and set them in front of Rhianne and Ben.
“Janie’s awesome.” Ben offered the pastries to Rhianne.
Rhianne carefully lifted one of the small, delicate cushions and bit into it. She tasted warm, crackling layers of crust and the sweet brush of sugar.
“Women in the village near where I live make something like this,” she said as she savored. “But I think not as good.”
“Food is king here.” Ben ate a beignet whole. “Not just the tourist food you’re supposed to eat, but everything. French, Creole, Cajun, Caribbean, South and Central American, Southern … everything.”
“Have you lived in New Orleans long?”
“Not very. Spent a lot of time in North Carolina and in Las Vegas. Moved here when Jasmine needed someone to look after the house. I knew about haunted houses—I was a resident ghost in one in North Carolina for a while.”
Rhianne narrowed her eyes as she took another bite of the wonderful beignet. “But you’re alive.”
“I know that, and you know that, but the owners of the inn and guests who came for the authentic ghost experience didn’t.” Ben chuckled. “Those were good times.”
“I do not believe I will ever understand you.” Rhianne finished her beignet and chose another. “Though I thank you for showing me your city. Or perhaps you think of it as your adopted city?”
“I do. But you ain’t seen nothing yet, sweetheart. The sun’s still up.”
“And I barely understand your English.”
“You’d understand my goblin less.” Ben waved at Janie, who arrived with a slip of paper that she laid next to his plate. He pulled out his square rectangle again and handed it to her.
“Your coins are interesting.” Rhianne rested her chin on her hand and nibbled the last beignet. “Not coins at all. And they give it back to you.”
“Credit card.” Ben tapped the slim leather pouch he kept the card in. “It’s like keeping a running tally with a merchant and then paying everything at the end of the month. Except a separate company keeps the running tally and pays the merchants for you, and then you pay up to that separate company.”
“Ah.” Rhianne licked sugar from her fingers. “A few hoch alfar tried to set up a syndicate rather like that. Whenever a debtor could not pay them, they’d threaten to take their home or livestock or even their lives. It happened too many times, so a hoch alfar prince had the creditor syndicate put to death.”
Ben’s brows went up. “Well, that might make credit card companies think twice about raising their interest rates.” Janie returned the card with more paper and a smile. “Thank you, Janie. You’re the best.”