"We penetrate deeper and deeper into the heart of darkness."
-J. Conrad

Chapter Two: The Heart of Darkness

The LeBeau men didn't stay with her at Tante Mattie's. Remy wanted to, but Luc insisted. If an Assassin saw them together – and her in such a state – he would not bother asking questions. A magical salve sealed her skin, but it was too dangerous to leave until dawn. She watched through Mattie's warped-glass window as the stars inched across the sky and the sun scrubbed away the night. There was no phone to call home. All night long, Belle's imagination terrorized her with what she didn't know.

Julien was dying.

Julien was dead.

Julien… Julien…

Looking back, she couldn't recall a single fond memory of him. He'd once broken her nose, set her hair on fire, and now bullied her friends so badly that the squad never invited her to parties or sleepovers. Why did she still love him? Why was her heart breaking? Was she insane, too?

The next morning when Belle returned home, Granny praised God but didn't cry. The old lady was stronger than Belle gave her credit for.

"Julien?" she managed.

"Just returned. All the menfolk were out lookin' for you last night."

"That… can't be."

"They found the Killer last night. Stabbed to death. In the French Quarter. Mon chou, we thought he got you, too!"

The Old Man and Julien were breakfasting. Like nothing had happened. Her brother wore a black turtleneck and moved stiffly while her grandfather avoided her eyes. Had he known all along? Had he sent her out for Julien to murder? And she'd been so proud to help him!

"Who'd you kill?" she breathlessly asked.

Granny gasped and the Old Man flinched, but Julien only smiled.

"Where were you last night?" he asked.

"I wasn't the only one who saw you. They know." She stood rigid with righteousness but her insides felt like jelly.

Julien flipped the table over and tackled her to the floor. With a vice-like grip, he strangled her already-bruised neck. Her head throbbed painfully and her vision darkened. Granny beat Julien's head with a tea kettle, but it did no good. He was tenacious. The Old Man struck him with a cattle-prod. Electricity shot through his marrow and his hands loosened. Again. Julien screamed the slumped on the floor. Granny helped Belle stand, but the Old Man wasn't finished. Again. His stitches tore and he bled on the carpet. Again. His bowels turned to water.

"Stop it!" she screamed.

"I've invested too much in this clan," the Old Man said. "I won't see it torn apart by you two."

Confused, she watched him retreat to his library while her brother twitched helplessly on the floor.


"Bella Donna."

"Jean-Luc."

He didn't appear surprised to see her, although she'd never come alone before. Not even in secret.

"I hear they found the French Quarter Killer," he said.

"That's what they said… Is Remy here?"

Her too-cool-for-school boyfriend galloped down the stairs and swept her up again. With a kiss, tranquility washed away the nightmarish confusion and powerlessness.

"Would you like to see the place?"

Luc made himself scarce while Remy gave her a tour. It was adorably lacking in female accessories, but that only encouraged her to imagine how she'd change things once they were married. He took her on the quickest route to his bedroom and kicked the door shut.

It was a far cry from her four-poster bed with down-feather comforter surrounded by children's trinkets left to her by her father. Remy's room was stark. The flat mattress held a worn quilt and the walls were lined with books she'd never read. Some of them she'd never even heard of. Everything smelled like him.

She was thrilled to be so boldly breaking the rules.

"You don't have a dresser?" she asked.

"I have a closet. You don't hang your clothes?"

"Some of them. But not everything fits, so it goes in the dresser."

He smiled. "Femmes. Have a seat."

She sat tensely on his bed corner. "If we're not going to marry, I probably shouldn't be here."

"I've known since I was pup that I was gonna marry you one day." He took her hand. "But it was my decision and yours. If and when. They've taken that away and you… you let them."

"Why does it matter? We're still getting what we want."

"I don't know, it just does. But I can't fight them and you. I need you. This summer's been the worst of my life and thinkin' about you's the only thing that kept me goin'."

"I missed you, too."

He leaned close and whispered, "I wanna tell you about… my heist."

"Do you think you should?"

"I can't tell anyone else. Even Luc doesn't know."

She leaned over so her ear sat before his lips. When he spoke, the air tickled seductively.

"There's a lab in Canada. They kept people in water tubes. For experiments. I think… They were mutants."

"And Luc sent you there?" she whispered softly.

"He didn't know."

"It's his job to know everything! He said so himself!" She hugged him close. "If anyone ever hurts you, I'll kill them. Slowly."

"I was supposed to steal a book," he continued. "And I got it, but… Belle, you can't tell anyone this. Ever."

She nodded.

"I destroyed it so what happened there will never happen again."

Furious, she dug her nails into his arms. "Don't ever endanger your life like that again! Mon Dieu, what if someone saw you?"

"They didn't."

"But what if they did? You've seen what they can do. What makes you think they can't find you?"

"That's why I keep you around."

She smiled weakly. "Look, I wanna do good things, too, and we can. But we're not heroes. There's no shame in that, but if you start sticking your neck out now, you're gonna draw the wrong attention to us."

"My life's not worth more than theirs."

"Yes, it is! No one cared about them or they wouldn't be there. But you have me! How can you say that?"

He held her close. "Maybe I'm not cut out for this."

"You are. You have to be," she said firmly, thinking: 'Or else my family won't let us marry.'

He asked to see her legs. The wounds had healed into shiny, pink lines that crisscrossed up her calves. His fingertips gently touched them. Then his lips followed. It was a sin for his kisses to be so delightful.

She pulled off her shirt and then his. Bare, their chests fit together like a broken stone. Nothing in the history of the world had ever felt as pure and right as their naked embrace. When she pressed her stomach against his, a bolt of pleasure shot to her groin and he had to rearrange his pants.

"Can you take them off?" she asked.

Lowering his eyes, he obliged her. First his pants and then his boxers pooled at his feet. She'd never seen a naked man before. His slender frame appeared disproportionate to his erection, which bobbed up and down as if it were waving 'hello'.

She smiled, "Come lay with me."

They lay down together, side by side, and resumed kissing. His bare bottom felt even better beneath her hands and she wanted… What did she want?

"If I take off my pants," she said, "We can't do it."

"Lady's choice."

She kept her eyes lowered too as she squirmed out of her shorts and panties. She bore no obvious sign of her arousal – a naked woman doesn't look much different than a covered one. Nonetheless, he looked pleased.

With a new energy, he pulled her on top of him. She held the dominate position, but straddling him left her feeling vulnerable. True to his word, he didn't take advantage of her. Instead, his fingers gravitated to the sweet center between her thighs. His touch had never been clumsy. He was always sure how to please her, even the first time. Luckily, he was astute to the tiny changes in her body because she would never have had the courage to tell him what she enjoyed. He just knew.

Since her knees were forced to part for his lap, she couldn't shut him out when things got too intense. She had to feel it. He piled pleasure atop pleasure and she couldn't stop herself from groaning. Her pelvis rolled against his. She never thought about how to move. If she had, she would've been mortified. But he'd locked something deep and primal and her body knew how to respond, just as he'd known how to unlock her.

He could've taken her. She wouldn't have been angry. Between them, his erection throbbed painfully, but he didn't dare touch himself. The heat from her sex beckoned him, and without thinking, his weeping member kissed her opening. Hunger gripped her lower belly. She trembled all over and he waited for her to slide down. Thrusting up would've been so easy… so right… But he'd given his word.

Lady's choice.

She tensed, gasped his name, and then shuttered with a groan.

"Did you do it?" he asked. "Did you get off?"

"I think so. That was... wow…" She couldn't catch her breath.

He rolled over so she could lie down and rest. Bella Donna Boudreaux. Naked. In his bed. Shaking off an orgasm he'd given her. In disbelief, he reached down and stroked himself.

She opened her eyes. "What're you doing?"

"What I did for you."

She licked her lips. "Can I help?"

A little too eagerly, he moved her hand to his member and showed her how to touch him.

"It won't be like yours," he said. "It's messier."

"How messy?"

"Don't stop, okay?"

This was significantly different with an audience. She wasn't exactly the sultry vixen he imagined, either, but more like a confused kitten weary of knocking on a door. When he finally finished, she flinched a little, but carried him through.

"It's sticky," she remarked.

They spent all day in his bedroom talking. He was always reading and talking and questioning things and, unlike Belle's family, Jean-Luc encouraged his rebellious behavior. Remy looked at things like no one else and she loved that. Unlike everyone else, Belle hadn't locked her mind into a particular pattern. She didn't blindly follow or reject, but listened to everything he had to say. She asked thoughtful questions and then chewed it over before drawing her own conclusions. Contributing to her outlook was rewarding and he loved it. No doubt, it was what Luc loved, too. Remy wanted to warn her about his father, but if he used her trust to conform her, he'd be no different from everybody else. He didn't want to change what he loved about her but… he wished she'd learn to draw some boundaries.

Before they knew it, it was three o'clock. Her family would expect her soon. She wasn't ready to go home, but couldn't get caught at Remy's house, either.


St. Agnes's Home for the Criminally Insane
Baton Rogue

In New Orleans, it was called simply "the home". It was where her mother lived.

"Louisa May Boudreaux," she told the front desk. "Which room is hers?"

Belle knew her mother wouldn't recognize her – it'd been years since they'd met – but she did remember her. Supposedly, Louisa had once been a great beauty. She'd also been a great drunk. Yet another reason for Julien's winning personality. When Louisa's in-laws heard she was pregnant again, they chained her to a bed for ten months. She still had the scars to prove it, but at least Belle was born fully formed, which was more than anyone could say for her brother.

When Belle introduced herself, Louisa wailed and carried on about how she'd lost her baby. Belle waited it out. She wasn't about to offer comfort to this woman who'd never given her anything. Simpering, she crawled back and wiped away her tears.

"I wanna know when it started," Belle said. "The drinkin'."

"I never touched a drop of alcohol in all my life! That's a lie!"

"Then what happened to your teeth?"

"My husband knocked 'm out! Him and his daddy! Hateful old devil!"

Lies. Marius was the kindest, most gentle father who ever lived, and Belle wouldn't stand to hear him slandered. Livid, she stood.

"Don't leave me!" she wailed, "I can't lose you! I done lost my momma and my husband and my babies! You gotta get me outta here, Pixie!"

"My name ain't Pixie. It's Bella Donna."

"Oh, that's a stupid name!"

She stormed towards the exit, Louisa clinging to her legs and laying dead-weight on the hospital floor.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please, I'll tell ya what ya wanna know!"

"The drinking," Belle said. "How old were you when it started?"

"Not till I was twenty-five. After my son was born, thank you very much! My husband was always shoutin' at me and I couldn't cope. In-laws caught me takin' a nip once and-" she pretended to sob again, "-and they chained me to the bed! I thought I was gonna lose you, Pixie! I screamed and screamed but… but wouldn't no one help!"

"Chainin' you up was the only thing that saved my life! Alcohol ain't your problem. It's not Daddy's family, either. You were messed up long before you touched a bottle. Weren't you? Well, guess what? Julien's messed up just like you. The only way you could've saved him was to stop lying to yourself and let these doctors sort you out. But it's too late now. He's gonna be right here beside you!"


"Belle?" Granny said, "Where you been?"

The Old Man and Julien were missing.

"They called a meeting." She realized. She rushed past her grandmother into the study and came face-to-face with a score of Assassins.

They all turned to her.

"How nice of you to join us," her grandfather said, extending his hand.

She joined him in front of the assembly.

"As you know, the clans have called for my resignation," he said. "I abdicate to my granddaughter. Bella Donna. You would like to speak before the vote?"

Every word flew from her mind. It was like all the cogs in her brain jammed up. Who would know what to say? Jean-Luc. He was never short of words. What would he say? What would he say?

"We find ourselves in difficult times," she said. "I'm young… But I'm willing to learn. And I will dedicate everything I have to the service of our clan."

They were clearly left wanting.

"Short and sweet," he smiled tightly.

If they'd expected her to beg for it, they had the wrong person. They voted in her favor and she was left feeling a little dizzy.

"Thank you, gentlemen," she said. "My first order is to reveal the so-called French Quarter Killer. The police think they have their man, but we know this is not the case. The man stabbed to death was a patsy. He was not an Assassin, and therefore could not be the murderer. That man is in this very room and I intend to see him punished."

The Old Man went pale. "Let's not be hasty, child."

"Four men have died so that my grandfather looked weak and foolish! Four men died to provoke Jean-Luc LeBeau and his sons into retaliation!"

Julien slowly retreated to the door.

"He may not have literally stabbed you in the back, but he signed your death warrants with his betrayal! That man is none other than my own brother!"

He had vanished.

They blanketed the city and had neighboring clans close the state lines, but the Gulf was open to the South and he could hide in the swamps for weeks. Months if he wanted to. She'd wanted to get the Thieves involved, but the clan vetoed it. They argued that the Thieves might "accidently" kill him in the capture. At the time, she agreed, but when he was still missing the following night, she regretted the decision.

The Old Man wasn't speaking to her.

Granny held out hope that the clan would only banish him.

Belle didn't think she could sleep, but once she lay down, she couldn't stay awake.

She was suddenly cold. Her arms were tossed over her head and something sharp pierced her breast. In a haze, she watched Julien tie her wrists to the headboard. She kicked him away and screamed. He backhanded her, struggled to grab her knees, and entombed them beneath his own. While his face was bent over hers, she lunged for his jugular and his screams echoed painfully in her ears.

Meanwhile, the Old Man managed to break down her door. He landed a fist on Julien's stab wound and the injured man flung himself out the window.

Belle pulled her hands free while Granny sobbed. Pulling a sheet over herself, she stood and declared: "Call the Thieves… Or I'll call the cops."

They stared blankly.

"I'll be dead in my grave before I ask for Jean-Luc's help," the Old Man hissed.

"He's a murderer! And a rapist! And you can't stop him!"

Granny sobbed loudly.

"You wanted to lead the clan," he said accusingly. "You stop him."


Belle had been thrown to the wolves. The adults wouldn't listen to her. The Old Man didn't even show up. Humiliated, she took Questa and Singer – the only ones who followed her – to join the Thieves. She'd never seen Remy in his work uniform before. He looked incredible in his black and pink body glove, and a shiver of pleasure trembled through her.

He smiled knowingly.

"He's been hidin' in the bayou," said Jean-Luc. "I hate t' split up, but it's the quickest way t' cover ground. Here, take these." He handed out tiny remote-control devices. "We'll go in pairs. When you get his track, press this and the rest of us will be alerted to your location. If that's acceptable to you, Miss Boudreaux."

She smiled gratefully. "He's strong. Vicious. I want an Assassin with each Thief for protection."

Singer tossed her hair, "And I suppose Remy will be your partner?"

"No worries, petite," Remy said, "Jean-Luc can keep you company."

"Does this count as a date?" Belle asked as they began their track.

"Depends if you kiss me or not."

They continued into the dark. Every animal sound made her hair stand on end.

"I hate the bayou," she said.

"Not so bad durin' the day."

"Ain't the dark that scares me. It's spiders."

"Wanna know what I'm afraid of?"

"What?"

"It's a secret," he motioned her closer and whispered, "Julien's been trackin' us since we left. Act offended and shove me on the ground. He'll attack."

She gasped, leaned back, and slapped him.

Sure enough, when Remy fell, Julien rushed out of the shadows. She thought he'd attack Remy since he was in a weakened position, but he didn't. Remy tried to trip him, but Julien flipped over his feet and slashed a blade at her. She leapt back, pulled out her knife-

"Stop!" Remy shouted.

Amazingly, Julien froze.

The Thief walked to her and slowly lowered her knife. Her brother mirrored her.

Gazing deeply into Julien's eyes, Remy said: "You're comin' home with us."

He nodded.

"And you won't put up a fight."

He nodded.

All of the agony she'd been internalizing concentrated on her belly. Like the menstrual cramp from hell. She felt wet.

The sight of blood on Julien's knife made her faint.


It was daytime when she woke up. Her room had been cleaned top to bottom, and someone had moved the carousel music-box from her father for her eighth birthday – the last one day of his life. When she looked around for it, she saw Tante Mattie sitting by the window.

"Ah, good morning, child!"

"What're you doin' here?"

"How you feelin'?" Tante Mattie felt her forehead for signs of fever.

"Cramps. Bad cramps… Julien…"

A long, ugly scar lined her once flawless flat tummy.

"Your brother felt terrible 'bout what he done," said Tante Mattie. "Carried ya straight to me! He offered his life, but your granddaddy saw he's sick like his momma. He's gone to the home."

She traced the scar from her belly button to her pubic hair. "I'll never have children."

"I – you – we don't know that."

"I want to see my grandfather."

"No. You'll get upset. You need to rest."

"OLD MAN!" She shouted harshly.

Tante Mattie started.

"GRANNY! OLD MAN!"

Granny rushed in and told her to calm down.

"Is it true? You've sent Julien to the home?"

"The clan voted," said the Old Man. "It's done. Before you harm yourself any further, you should know how sorry he was. Out of his mind. It ain't right… what he did… But killin' him wouldn't make it any better. Seein' as how he's the last chance this family has to continue… Killin' him would only make it worse."

Her mouth fell open. "So he deprived me of my own family… And you're gonna let him live because he's deprived me?"

"It's done."

"Who suggested it?"

"That's none of your concern. Until you're twenty-one, I still lead this family. I'll tell you what you need to know."

Furious tears made her tremble. "I thought... I was helping you… I thought… we were a team." She couldn't stop her lips from quivering, so she turned her face. "Does Remy know?"

Silence.

"I ASKED YOU A QUESTION!" She roared, no longer caring how she looked. She'd lost everything. Everything. "I WANT REMY! WHERE IS HE?!"

"Stop," said Granny, "You'll harm-"

"WHERE IS HE?!"

"STOP!" The Old Man shouted back. When she wouldn't obey, he smashed her father's music box and the pink tea-set from her sixth Christmas. Granny ran from the room. He threw Belle's clothes out her window and threatened to throw her, too.

"You couldn't lift me if you tried!" she hissed. "Here! Let me help you!"

She leapt out of bed and he yanked her arm back.

"Your life belongs to me! You live how I say! And you don't die until I say so!"

It was the most ludicrous thing she'd ever heard! And he thought he'd scare her with it! She laughed. Couldn't stop! He shook her violently, but still she laughed. Enraged, he threw her on the bed and stormed out, the sound of her mother's laughter resounding rebelliously.

To Be Continued…

Author's Note: I've adjusted Belle's family structure a little. Here, both her father and grandfather are named Marius. Obviously, I've killed her father and stuck her mother in a home. In the comics, her mother's never been mentioned, and her father was her primary guardian. I felt my amendments would 1) explain her family's dysfunctional overprotectiveness and 2) add a layer of tragedy to her character. Julien really was dubbed "the French Quarter Killer", but I took some liberties with the details of his killing spree. And teenaged Remy really did break into the Weapon X facility on a heist.