On Midnight Wings

ma naturalmente. Ti prego di perdonarmi (Italian), but of course. Please forgive me.

marmot (m), brat.

menteur (m); menteuse (f), liar.

merci, thank you; merci beaucoup, thanks a lot; merci bien, thanks very much.

merde, shit.

mère de sang (f), blood-mother; female vampire who has turned another and become their “parent.”

mia bella assassina (f) (Italian), my beautiful assassin.

mi hija (Spanish), my daughter.

mio amico (m) (Italian), my friend.

Mon Dieu, my God.

m’selle (f), abbreviated spoken form of mademoiselle, Miss, young lady.

m’sieu (m), abbreviated spoken form of monsieur, Mr., sir, gentleman.

nephilim, the offspring resulting from Fallen and mortal unions.

Nightbringer, a name/title given to Lucien De Noir.

nightkind (s and pl), vampire; Dante’s term for vampires.

nomad, name for the pagan, gypsy-style clans who ride across the land.

numèro un, number one.

oui, yes.

oui sûr, Yeah, sure; yeah, right.

padnat, partner, buddy, chum; close friend.

pardonne-moi, forgive me.

pas encore, not yet.

pas ici, not here.

pas possible, not possible.

père (m), father; mon père, my father.

père de sang (m), blood-father; male vampire who has turned another and become their “parent.”

peut-être, maybe, perhaps.

peut-être que oui, peut-être que non, maybe, maybe not.

p’tit, mon (m); p’tite, ma (f), my little one (generally affectionate).

puttana (Italian), bitch.

quitte-moi tranquille, leave me alone.

shuvano, a nomad healer and shaman.

sì (Italian), yes.

tais-toi, shut up.

t’es sûr de sa? are you sure about that? t’es sûr? you sure?

toujours, always.

très, very.

True Blood, born vampire, rare and powerful.

tu sei un bastardo mentendo (Italian), you’re a lying bastard.

vite-vite, fast, hurry, quickly, shoo.

wybrcathl (OOEEBR-cathl), sky-song. Fallen/Elohim word.

Caterina’s lullaby (traditional Italian lullaby in an old dialect): Fi la nana, e mi bel fiol/ Fi la nana, e mi bel fiol/ Fa si la nana/ Fa si la nana/ Dormi ben, e mi bel fiol/ Dormi ben, e mi bel fiol . . .

Hush-a-bye, my lovely child/ Hush-a-bye, my lovely child/ Hush, hush and go to sleep/ Hush, hush and go to sleep/ Sleep well, my lovely child/ Sleep well, my lovely child . . .

1 DARK AND BITTER PEARLS SLIDELL, LOUISIANA JACK CHERAMIE’S HOUSE MARCH 30

LUCIEN DE NOIR SAT beside the unconscious girl curled on the bed, box springs creaking beneath him. Mid-afternoon sunlight filtered through the golden, gauzy curtains covering the window, bathing the room in a tranquil glow. An illusion—no, worse, a lie—given the day’s dark, violent, and unimaginable events.

My son has been shot and stolen and the mortal woman he loves, the woman who keeps his slipping sanity balanced, is missing.

Lucien’s deltoid muscles flexed, restless, but he suppressed the urge to unfurl his wings and take to the sky in search of Dante and Heather; he feared that they had been spirited off in two very different directions. And he had no idea where to look, which path to follow, or even who was responsible.

Not yet, anyway.

Lucien focused his attention on Heather Wallace’s drugged sister. A light sheen of sweat glistened on Annie’s forehead. Tears wet the ends of her lashes. And her blood-speckled face looked light-years away from peaceful.

Guessing why wasn’t difficult.

The blood freckling her face and throat was Dante’s. Lucien knew by the scent alone—copper, a hint of adrenaline, a moonlight-silver tang—and had known from the moment he’d scooped her unconscious body up from the sidewalk in front of the club.

She must’ve been standing beside Dante when he’d been shot. Or damned close, anyway. A muscle flexed in Lucien’s jaw. Shot repeatedly and without mercy. Dante’s blood had saturated the Oriental carpet in front of the bedroom he shared with Heather.

So much blood when Dante should’ve healed. Too much blood. And the odd scent clinging to the shell casings Lucien had picked up from the hallway carpet had left him wondering. A troubling scent. Familiar.

Lucien studied Annie’s pale face, pushed sweat-damp tendrils of her punk-style blue/purple/black hair back from her face. She shivered inside her fuzzy purple bathrobe as though it was woven from ice, instead of plush terry cloth.