We Live As We Dream – Alone

"No, it is impossible; it is impossible to convey the life-sensation of any given epoch of one's existence – that which makes its truth, its meaning – its subtle and penetrating essence. It is impossible. We live, as we dream – alone."
-Joseph Conrad

Chapter One

They were preparing to make love. Of all the times they'd fooled around, somehow, this time was different. Belle felt it in her bones. His loving arms wrapped around her and lowered her gently to the bed. She raked her nails across his back because she knew he loved it. There were things she liked, too, but couldn't find the words to tell him. It was a thrill then when his red and black eyes vanished below the blanket and his breath caressed her thigh.

The dogs' baying woke her up.

With a groan, she pulled the pillow over her head and tried to fall back asleep. Her body tingled with desire. She needed him, she needed it – but Remy was gone. He'd left. Gone on some godforsaken thieving mission all freaking summer. And he'd taken her only chance for getting laid with him. She'd probably die a virgin.

Granny opened her bedroom door and said, "Better tell the Old Man bye 'fore he goes."

It was deer season and the Old Man, Belle's grandfather, never missed a chance to kill something. He'd be gone all day, which meant another Saturday of jigsaw puzzles for Belle and Granny. She could've gone with the men, but one day of sitting in a tree with their smelly hides had been enough. Belle shot an eight-point buck her first time. They'd been so impressed, but when it came time to skin, she realized how dark its eyes were. Like Remy's.

"I'll see him later," Belle grumbled.

"But if you tell him now, he may let you go see your beau tonight."

Her head emerged. "Remy's back?!"

"On his way."

Belle leapt out of bed and pulled her clothes on. She tried to pull her hair back into a pony-tail, but the front wouldn't lay down flat. She wanted to rip it out. With thick golden hair, bright violet eyes, and unblemished skin, she knew she was beautiful. Her only concern was that she'd blossom too soon and overripe before thirty.

"You're sure?"

"My dreams are never wrong."

"You dream about seventeen-year-old boys now?" She grinned. "Better not tell the Old Man."

She heard the dogs leaping into the pick-up truck bed and rushed outside.

The Old Man was immediately suspicious, but couldn't resist a hug and kiss. Affection in an Assassin home was a rare treasure. It was something they all secretly cherished, and like Belle, couldn't summon the words to express it.

Julien placed the rifles in the back window. "Why didn't you put more clothes on before you stepped out?"

That comment earned him a cuff over the head. "Women-folk put time into gettin' dressed. If a woman's willin' to step out undressed it's on account of her heart. Don't you ever scorn a woman's heart for her appearance!"

Julien gave Belle a look that made her stomach knot, but she pretended not to see it.

"Hurry back, guys. Nothing to do when y'all aren't here."

"Tell your grandma to give you some spendin' money. Get something for her, too. Something she wouldn't buy herself." The Old Man gave her a kiss and departed.

Belle couldn't wait to get Singer, her only girlfriend, downtown. They tried on some ballroom gowns with no intention of buying before getting down to serious business. With an armful of clothes, she slipped into a dressing room, and was half-dressed when the handle rattled.

"Occupied!" she snapped.

The door opened and Remy slipped in. His black and red eyes slid over her and a smile slowly spread over his full mouth. The things his mouth did to her...

"Remy-"

He put a finger to his lips and crossed the distance to kiss her. His hands slid across her scalp while her hands moved decidedly lower. It had been so long since she'd felt his bare skin. Her fingers didn't hesitate to slip under his pants and grab his ass. In response, his teeth latched onto her neck and made her gasp. Being with him this way made her want to explode or melt or – or – die. She didn't understand these desires.

"Did you wait for me?" he asked.

At first, she was confused. Then she remembered trying to make him stay by threatening to hook up with Harrison Camden, the star quarterback of her high school. If Remy had known anything about high school dynamics, he'd know Harrison was way out of Belle's league. (And dating the homecoming queen.) But he didn't. All he knew was she saw Harrison every day and that they were both attractive people. She felt a thrill of victory knowing her ploy had worked. He may have taken the job, but he suffered as much as she did in his absence.

"You're a better kisser," she whispered.

"Is that all?" His hands slipped invisibly under her shirt and unhooked her bra.

She trembled as he latched onto her nipple. Nothing in the world could feel as good as that. With great reluctance, she pulled him away. "You can't just – just leave and then-"

"I had to. But I'm back now and I don't ever wanna leave you again…" He fished in his pockets and produced a tiny diamond ring.

Despite dreaming of this very situation, she was terrified. He might as well have pulled out a knife. She pushed him away and bolted.

She rushed home, expecting to find Granny listening to Benny Hill and playing solitaire. Instead, her house was overrun with Assassins.

Julien shot her a nasty look. "Where've you been? With LeBeau?"

"LeBeau ain't even in town," the Old Man said. "You oughta be protectin' your sister from slander, not startin' it."

Granny sighed, "Thank heavens she's safe."

"Anybody wanna tell me what the hell's goin' on?" asked Belle.

"Sonny Moreau's been murdered," the Old Man answered. "Cops are gonna be breathin' down our necks and the Thieves will be lookin' for an excuse to attack. Strict curfews, especially for the kids." He looked at Belle. "I mean it."

"Shouldn't you be more concerned about a murderer on the loose?" she said.

"Murder in New Orleans every day," he said almost proudly. "But this one wasn't sanctioned. The slayin' of a Thieves associate makes us look like animals. We're gonna find his killer and make this right before the Thieves lay blame with us."

His word was law, so whatever people's person opinions, they kept to themselves.

"Since when do Thieves matter?" Except Julien, apparently. "What're they gonna do? Rob us to death?"

"It matters since your sister's in love with their little prince."

Belle blushed from her hair to her toes. She wanted to melt into the floor. By acknowledging her relationship with Remy, the Old Man had practically given his blessing. Their open secret had just been promoted to confirmed scandal.

Pawns in a game.

That's all they were.

She stood like a statue until the grown-ups had hammered out a plan. Then, as they dispersed, she galloped upstairs to her room.

"Mon chou?" Granny knocked on her door. "Come now. You've got thicker skin than this. Open up."

She obeyed and unburdened her heart. It never occurred to her that her grandmother would instantly relay everything to the Old Man. Granny was her best friend, although, being seventeen, she didn't realize it yet.

"Chere," Granny said firmly, "Ain't no man on this planet gonna make you marry someone you don't wanna marry. We're Boudreaux and Boudreaux marry for love. Can't be bought like some Thieves. Wanna marry LeBeau? Run off to Mississippi tonight. They'll marry you. Don't wanna marry him? Tell him! It's your life and no one's gonna live it except you."

"I don't know what I want."

She smiled sadly. "I think you do… I think you do."

With trembling hands and weak knees, she told the Old Man that she'd been wrong about her feelings for Remy. He dealt with her teenaged, love-sick heart the same way he dealt with everything else: practically.

"If this is some sort of game…"

"No. I wouldn't do that."

"Did he hurt you?"

"He's been nothing but honorable."

"So he's not sullied you?"

"No!" She cried.

He looked at his wife, who gave some indiscernible signal.

"Do you want to tell him in person? Or shall I deliver a letter?"

"I… I'll tell him."

"I've spoken with Jean-Luc and he expects his son back this evening. We'll visit tomorrow, give him time to unpack first. Belle… I would never force you into a marriage not of your choosing, but the Thieves won't take this lightly. Realize you're crossing the Rubicon. There will be no going back."

She said nothing about seeing Remy that morning. What would they think of her if she told them the truth? That she wanted his loyalty and his body… but not his name. What sort of woman did that make her?

She went to bed feeling like a soul condemned and cried herself to sleep.

"Belle?" Julien startled her. It was pitch black and she could barely see his profile. "I'm glad you've finally come to your senses."

She pulled the sheets up to her neck.

"Get out," she whispered. She hoped this was a nightmare or he was sleep-walking.

He stroked her ankle and when she pulled away, he snatched it back. Her heart hammered in her ears. Should she scream?

"You know, the Pharaohs married their sisters and were considered divine."

She slapped his hand away. "I said leave!"

Slowly, he walked out and shut the door behind him.

That night, another Thief was attacked. The poor man was in critical condition and the Assassins were beginning to panic. It appeared that Marius Boudreaux had a renegade in his mist and the Thieves didn't trust him to handle his own clan.

Needless to say, Belle and Remy never met that day.

She would've been glad to vanish into secret rooms with her kin and talk tactics, but she was pointedly excluded.

"They don't trust me," she said miserably. "They think I'll run and tell Remy everything."

For once, Granny wasn't sympathetic. "It's the price you pay for loving a Thief. Keep looking forlorn. In a couple weeks, pull your hair up. Pretty girl like you should have beaux linin' the streets."

"I don't want a beau."

"It's the only way your grandpere will believe you're over Remy."

"There's got to be another way… I know! There's pep rally Thursday. Julien will be there, so it's okay."

"You? At a pep rally?"

"Maybe I'll join the cheerleading squad."

She pursed her lips. "You've lost your damn mind. He's gonna know it's just an excuse to-"

"Remy doesn't go to school," she reminded her. "I can't be in two places at once! And everyone wants to date a cheerleader… Come on, what am I supposed to do with all this extra time?"

"Study? Pray?"

"Granny…"

"Let's start with the pep rally."

Contemplating her future without him sent her heart on a wild ride. Sometimes she was exuberant. Most of their time was spent with him gone on some heist while she sat at home, lonely and anxious. Then there was a perpetual undercurrent of disappointment from her clan. She was glad to lose that! But who did she have to love if not him? Who would put butterflies in her tummy? Who made her life special? Then she was awash in grief.

Better to keep busy and not dwell on her emotions.

He sent a letter asking for an explanation. Certainly, he deserved it. But before she could pen a response, life took another turn.

The Killer's second victim, Richard Seydoux, died from his injuries. Despite Assassins patrolling every corner, the villain wasn't apprehended.

Tensions returned to an all-time high.

Belle was stunned when Jean-Luc paid them a visit. Remy's father, the Thieves Guildmaster of New Orleans, was quite dashing for an old bachelor. He had a swarthy complexion, well-kept moustache, and luxurious dark hair always tied back. An impeccable dresser, he favored deep gem colors in shades of blue or green. Like a peacock.

"Why so shocked, chere?" he asked her. "I know I'm among friends here."

She looked behind him.

"No, just borin' old me," he smiled.

"Where are your manners, girl!" her grandmother chided.

"I realize things may be awkward," he said. "Rumor is you've gone cold on Remy. Me being his father, maybe you think I've come to extract some revenge. Rest assured, my heart's as devoted to you as ever, Bella Donna."

"That's enough," said Granny. "Ain't proper for you to flirt with her so."

"Flirt? Perish the thought, Vivien! I've been determined to have your sweet granddaughter as my daughter-in-law, and I hope she'll always think of me that way." He turned to Belle. "I hear you were sore about him leavin'. You know that was my fault."

The Old Man lazily lit a cigar. "Been to the beauty shop today, have ya?"

Luc smiled. "It's my job to know everything, Marius."

Belle's stomach felt like it was full of eels. This might be her only chance to get a message to Remy, but what could she do or say in a room full of Assassins? Clenching her fists, she finally said: "Maybe your daughter-in-law… shouldn't have conflicting loyalties. Don't you want a girl you could trust?"

His eyes sparkled like a house cat's when a patiently observed mouse hole finally produces said rodent. "What do you think you'd be, chere? A Thief by marriage? Or an Assassin bride who could never go home again?... It is my intention to unite our Guilds. You wouldn't keep secrets from anyone. You could be yourself and be – my daughter-in-law."

She bit her lip to keep from grinning and looked away.

"I think she likes the idea!" Luc boasted.

She was so happy she could've kissed him. Yes, that was it! That was why she was so repulsed by the idea of marrying Remy – because she'd always associated it with betraying her clan. But if she could have both… That's what she wanted. She wanted it with all her heart.

"Are you God now?" Marius asked dryly. "For decades we've been at each other's throats. What gives you the power to stop it with a word?"

"I have faith, sir, and two teenagers in love prepared to move mountains in order to be together. And I believe they can do it."

If her heart had wings, she could've flown away.

All her life, Bella Donna had been just a link in a chain. Behind her were her ancestors – ahead lay her descendants. She would uphold the family tradition like everyone else. But now Jean-Luc was offering her a chance to do something truly revolutionary! Unite the Guilds, bring peace to New Orleans. She could have Remy and her family – she didn't have to choose!

Pawns, her mind realized, I'm just a pawn to him.

Oh, but he doesn't own me, her heart replied.

And did it matter that he was using her? She wanted the same thing, so maybe he was helping her.

She wrote Remy a long letter and dropped it in a random mailbox on the way to school. Thank goodness she hadn't dumped him yet!

As she promised Granny, she made nice with the cheerleaders. They weren't the thoughtless clique she'd taken them for – she was ashamed of how presumptive she'd been. They gave her an audition and when she proved capable of posing and spelling, she was invited to join.

Julien was genuinely pleased.

Besides getting in fights, there wasn't much he was good at. Except football. Coach was the only authority he accepted. The repeated head injuries did nothing for his temper, but it was his only chance for college and about the only good he ever did.

Now the Boudreaux siblings had a common interest. If he got a little grabby in warm-ups, that was probably her imagination. If he kept walking into the dressing room, he was just impatient to leave. For the first time since Daddy died, they had something to share. She wasn't going to let his stupid teenage hormones ruin this.

The squad was decorating for the upcoming pep rally when Harmony said, "Oh jeez, it's that creepy mutant kid."

Belle's head snapped back.

"He's not creepy," she said. "And his name's Remy."

"You know him?" Delia questioned.

He kept his distance but was clearly watching them. Likewise, they were watching and not greeting him.

"Yeah, I'll introduce y'all." She crossed the football field. "Nice creeper profile, Remy. Wanna come out and meet my friends? Or are you a vampire now?"

"Cheerleaders?"

"Cheerleaders. I'd expect you of all people to not judge someone by their cover."

He relaxed a little. "Sure you want me around your boyfriend?"

"Don't be a jerk. You're my boyfriend."

"Am I?"

She couldn't meet his eyes.

"Got your letter," he said. "Guess Jean-Luc baited you, too. Belle… I don't give a rat's ass about the Guild. Never have. But if it's important to you, I'll play along."

"It is important to me. Come meet my new friends."

He turned on that famous LeBeau charm, for which she was grateful, because she saw beneath the façade. He loathed these girls. Their distain warmed to easy adoration and Belle felt ashamed of herself. If these girls couldn't tolerate a mutant, they weren't friends worth having. But they'd given him a chance and changed their opinion. Wasn't that a start? She wished they cared enough about his opinion to try to change his mind, too.

"Thanks for that," she said as she walked him to the parking lot.

"So your letter…" he said. "Who is it you wanna marry? Me? Or my family?"

"Both."

"My father's single. Why don't you cut to the chase?"

Her upper lip curled in disgust. "Gross!"

"Funny, that's how you looked when I gave you that ring. What's happened to you? I'm gone all summer and now that I'm home, you ain't called once. Runnin' around with the football team, joinin' the cheerleaders, tellin' everyone but me we're done. Then I get letter singin' Luc's praises sayin' you wanna marry me!"

"That's not fair."

"I thought we were friends, chere, but this ain't how friends treat each other."

'Remy,

'I thought about what you said. If that's how you really feel, I release you. You aren't the only boy in town. I'll hop the border and elope. The Old Man will be furious and will try to un-do it. You need to hurry and find yourself a wife. Then the Church can't possibly marry us, no matter what he does. Did you mean what you said? Or were you just angry?

'Belle'

'Dear Belle, don't run off with someone else. How will that solve anything?'

'Remy, you don't get to dump me and tell me what to do.'

'Dear Belle, when did everything get so complicated? Can we meet somewhere and talk?'

'Remy, when and where?'

Saturday morning, the instant it was allowed, the phone rang. It was Questa, an Assassin boy, and he sounded depressed. When he asked Belle to come over, she left immediately. Julien and the Old Man were already gone – to hunt, she assumed. Granny was weeding the flower bed.

"Be careful, dear!" she called from under her wide-brimmed straw hat.

"I'm always safe and careful," Belle waved as she rode off.

'Careful' was the name of the dagger strapped to her thigh. 'Safe' was the revolver in her bicycle basket.

Apparently, Questa carried neither, because he answered the door with a bloody nose. One of his fingers was broken, too. Tears filled his black eyes once she laid him on the couch and took charge.

"Why didn't you call Tante Mattie?" She asked. In the kitchen, she made two ice packs and wrapped them in hand towels.

"I didn't want her to tell my folks."

"Where are they?"

"Old Man's had them on rotating shifts. They haven't seen me."

She pressed the ice packs to his eyes and exchanged the bloody tissue for a clean one. "Thieves?"

"Yeah." He exhaled a jagged breath.

"Did you see their faces?"

"No. They were too quick."

She gathered the first-aid kit and set his broken finger. His nose had finally stopped bleeding; she didn't think it was broken. With trepidation, she asked the unavoidable question.

"What were you doin' out after curfew?"

He took an uneasy breath, swallowed, and said, "Belle… You ever feel like… You've got the wrong body?"

She shook her head.

"Well, I do. I hate it. I hate what it does. How it looks. So at night, I get to pretend. It's dark and where I go, no one knows boy-Questa."

"You're a tranny?"

He shrugged.

"The Guild can't find out about this…" The solution seemed obvious, but at the same time, so painful. "We'll tell them you were coming over to my house… but the Thieves got you first."

Surprise and relief washed over his face. "You sure? Your brother's gonna want my head."

"Everyone will want your head if the truth comes out!"

"Thank you… Belle… I'll make this up to you one day. I promise… But what about Remy?"

Another Thief murdered.

The papers called him 'the French Quarter Killer'.

Belle's grandfather was distraught. After an emergency meeting, she waited for him, but he never left his library. Finally, she went in.

Silently covering his face, he reached out for her hand. She wondered if he'd mistaken her for Granny.

"If your father lived," he mumbled, "this never would've happened…"

Her bottom lip trembled but she refused to cry. He needed her strength, not her tears.

"What'd the clan say?" she asked.

"They're callin' for my abdication."

She gasped.

"I don't dare leave it with Julien, but…"

"What about me?"

He didn't look thrilled. "Did Jean-Luc's put that in your head?"

"No, listen – someone's targetin' Thieves. Remy and I were supposed to meet Tuesday night. I'll leave him there until the Killer shows. Whoever's doin' this, they're no match for me."

"I'll call a meeting for every Assassin in the city," he said thoughtfully, "You set your trap. But don't risk your life for that boy. I'll know who it is by whoever's missin'. I wish I could send a man with you, but there's none I can trust."

Of course, Julien would keep her safe, but he couldn't be trusted with a secret.

"What about Luc?" she asked.

He sat up. "Yes… Yes, that might be prudent."

"Whoever he is, he'll pay with his life."

The plan wasn't unprecedented. The Old Man had been lowly born and only won his position by rescuing Granny and saving her clan forty years earlier. Why couldn't Belle do the same? She'd rescue Remy and save their clans; then nothing could stop them from marrying. Sure, there was a little rumor about her and Questa, but it had mostly gone away. The Assassins weren't keen to gossip, and the Thieves knew the truth. In fact, Remy never brought it up in their secret letters, which cemented her suspicions. She wished he'd confide the name of Questa's attackers... Surely he'd not been involved himself?

Through these correspondents, he said how much he missed her, but couldn't risk going to her house. So she asked him to name a place where they could meet. After a few days to arrange his "escape", they had a solid plan.

Sweet Treat Candy Shop.

Then she watched from the south; Luc from the north.

How long since they'd actually seen each other? The parking lot fight happened three weeks prior. She wanted so badly to go to him, to hear his voice, and feel his embrace – but until now, she'd been pretending to fancy Questa. And if the Killer saw her nearby tonight, he wouldn't strike.

So she waited and watched.

And waited.

Remy finally decided she wasn't coming.

She couldn't let him leave. Anxious, she rushed into the closed candy store. How many times had they robbed this place blind? Enough for her to associate the smell of caramel with him.

"Sorry I'm late," she whispered.

He lifted her off her feet, pulling the full weight of her body against his. "That's what you girls do, ain't it? Keep us waitin'."

"Oh, this old thing?" she pretended to sneer at her outfit.

"I wanna apologize. Luc did was he does best and I blamed you for it. God knows he's manipulated folks smarter than you into doin' worse."

"He didn't manipulate me! All he did was explain that marryin' you didn't mean abandonin' my clan."

He smiled bitterly. "So if the Old Man threatened to throw you out, you wouldn't marry me? Good to know."

"It ain't like that! My grandfather's sixty-five and agin' every day. Julien's completely off his rocker! Who's gonna lead them if not me? Your father's two-hundred-years-old in a forty-year-old body with two perfectly sane sons. You think love is sacrifice? What're you riskin' for me?"

"Nothin'. You know no one wants me here. Feelin's mutual. Now all a sudden, they're in a hurry to bind us. That doesn't seem suspicious to you? Why they wanna box us in?"

"Marriage… isn't… a prison sentence…"

The front door blew open and a black figure cut through the shadows. Remy snatched a nearby box of chocolates and threw them at the figure. There was an explosion of light and wrappers, and she used the advantage to throw a knife at the man. He screamed – his scream… His familiarly broad shoulders tackled Remy like a target on the football field. With an invisible knife in her heart, she pulled an enormous skinning blade and plunged it in his back.

"You stupid little slut!" he roared. With inhuman strength, he throttled her neck and launched her across the room.

Disoriented and confused, she saw Jean-Luc swoop in and chase off the figure in black.

Remy made to follow, but then stopped and knelt by her side.

"Are you hurt?"

It wasn't a physical pain that crippled her so.

When she realized Luc would pursue him until he bled to death or killed his pursuer, she leapt up.

"We've gotta stop 'em!"

They followed the trail of blood to the two men sparing. Luc was quick – but the Killer was quicker. He swept-kicked, knocking Luc off his feet, but as his blade came down, Remy's staff blocked his father's face. Sparks flew. Belle leapt on the Killer's back, stabbing his shoulders repeatedly. She heard him sob, but that didn't stop his blade from hacking her legs. Blood loss made him weak. As he staggered to his knees, the Thieves made to end him.

"Stop!" she said. "Let him go."

"He won't get far," said Luc. "Help me bind her legs, son. We'll get her to Tante Mattie."

Her wounds bled but didn't hurt. If anything, the stinging sensation felt… oddly pleasurable. Perhaps this was what an injury deserved felt like.

She imagined him returning home – where every Assassin was gathered. He'd be gushing blood. In short time, they'd all know why. Would Granny weep? Would the Old Man finish him off? Her own brother… The French Quarter Killer.

…

To Be Continued…

…