Paris. The City of Love. What a joke of a place to send him to try and get over everything that had happened. It was enough that he was rolling his eyes as he walked through the airport terminal, before hugging his brother to him.

"Bonjour Henri."

"Remy."

"What's de good word den?"

"Well, dunno dat dere much good word mon petit frère."

"Dat ain't much of a surprise. So Tante said dat dere was some work lined up for me in dis city?"

"Jumpin straight to de chase already, eh Rem?"

Remy stopped matching strides with his brother, to frown at him.

"Henri, it ain't like I got much else left ta me but work. An I don't wanna talk about it. Bella, de wedding, all of dat, forbidden subject for now, eh?"

"D'accord. We do it ya way, Rem." Henri just nodded and agreed with his little brother. He didn't know what else to do. He wouldn't know what to do if something came between him and Mercy, and Remy had just about everything that could be between him and his wife between them now.

"Yeah, we got some work lined up for ya. Dere a femme here in Paris, she got quite a few t'ings she be wanting ya to retrieve from ot'ers for her. Rem.. don't mess dis one up, eh? She a powerful femme. One dat ya don't wanna get on de wrong side of. Ya get on de wrong side of dis one mon ami, an Poppa an I mebbe not even be able ta intervene."

"I get de message Henri, don't fuck de woman over. Didn't plan on it. Ya know I always honor my contracts. Ain't got much else to be standing on but my word anymore, eh?" A bitter laugh escaped him, in contrast to Henri's more heart felt laugh.

"Remy, ya one of de most honest t'ieves I know. Dunno how ya gonna make it on ya own wit' dat honesty in tact."

"I find a way. Or I lose it. But if all I got left be my word, den I gonna be keeping it."

"If ya say so, Rem. De limo dere, it be taking ya to de filles' place. She provide ya quarters, spending money, whatever ya need. Do dis right, eh brother? It open doors for ya in places ya might not expect."

Remy just shrugged, pulled his duster closer around him, patted Henri's shoulder then strode out of the airport, waving behind him. Oblivious to the people who stared at him. Not because of his eyes, those were hidden behind shades. Because Remy LeBeau was a creature rarely seen even by Parisians. A darkly seductive creature, who even in turmoil drew others to him, men and women.

Perhaps the reason he stepped doubley faster into the waiting car, as he began to feel the lust rising from eyes upon him.

The car ride was boring. Oh so boring. He played solitaire with his second favorite pack of playing cards. The ones Jean-Luc had given him when he turned 17. He'd conned many a people out of thousands of dollars in poker games with those cards, in the very first tournament he ever played in. Easier days, those. When sneaking into a tournament had just been a diversion, an enjoyment, never a real care about the money.

Maybe soon, he might be reduced to using cards as a real source of income. Maybe.

The ride was longer then he expected, if only because it was actually on the outskirts of Paris. A large house, a very large house. Whoever his new benefactor was, she was loaded. Already he was stilling his hand, fighting down the urge to lift anything of hers. That be bad business to be getting into when he hadn't even worked for her yet.

The driver opened the door, told him his luggage would be taken care of. Remy just shrugged, and headed for the front door. A servant was already waiting there, and bowed to him. "Mr LeBeau, please follow me. Madam Candra is waiting for you."

First he'd heard of her name. He just nodded. "Den take me t'Candra?" Not quite a request, as he fell in behind the man. His hands going into his pockets, as he observed the rich pieces of artwork lining the walls, the vases, even the rugs and wall hangings. Each piece was worth at least ten grand individually. Money. Lots of money, and distinct taste in what she had displayed. A definite discerning eye for what she liked, an eye that Remy found himself agreeing with.

Course, the femme was probably going to be forty or fifty years his senior and all grey hair and wrinkle.s It wasn't often that someone who had ties to the guild was a drop dead looker.

"Madam Candra awaits you, sir." The servant accorded him respect, more then he was expecting for just being a hired thief. Weird. A shrug, and he swept into the the study – and stopped dead in his tracks about five steps in.

THIS was Candra? Almost as tall as him at 6'1" he'd guess. Long free hanging blond hair. Sparkling blue eyes. Lips so red they looked like rubies. A very feminine body, with curves in all of the right places. He'd looked at many women, flirted with many women, but always he'd known he'd never find a woman more beautiful then Belladonna. He was just proven wrong. She couldn't have been more then perhaps 7 or 8 years older then he was, maybe as much as 12, no more.

Smouldering eyes peered at the woman behind his shades. That deep red dress she wore didn't hide a damn thing either, instead it accenuated every nuance of her form. Then he realized she was laughing, and he sketched a bow to her.

"Lady Candra, I presume?" His voice felt thick.

"Indeed. And you are Remy LeBeau, the Prince of Thieves. Come, join me." She patted the seat next to her on the couch, and Remy swallowed. It was a rare woman who could put him off his game, and she was managing it already. With trepidation, he crossed the room to sit down next to her, to find her handing him a glass of wine; which he was thankful for. His throat felt dry.

"I see m'reputation proceeds me. But den, seein as ya hired me, hope ya know dat much bout me at de very least." To his surprise, she was laughing again. It was a pleasant sound, and showed even white teeth, as she set her hand on his arm over the dusters sleeve.

"Oh, you could say that Remy. I know all about you. You're a very fascinating young man." Accompanying those words, he almost expected to find her hand wandering, touching him. Instead, she just left it there. Oddly, he felt disappointed at that too. It was then he also realized something else interesting. With most people, he could feel their emotions without even trying. With Candra, he couldn't. He had to actually think about it to even get a glimmer of what she was feeling.

Oh boy. Dis gonna be real interestin. What Henri send me into? Dey don't t'ink I forget about Bella just cuz dis femme tres belle? Nah, Henri not like dat. Dere most be more to dis den just dat. Lord, why I getting regretful dat dis might be 'just' business...

He didn't have long in his thoughts.

"I won't bore you too much tonight, Remy. However, there is a job I need you to do tonight already. I know it's short notice, and you're likely jet lagged, but it has to be done tonight. The item I require is about to be moved to somewhere that would be far harder to get to it at, so it has to be tonight."

"D'accord. I get whatever ya want." Remy offered her with that cocky grin.

"Oh. I'm counting on it, Remy."

Eight months. He'd been in the service of Candra for eight months now. Somehow, a large portion of those days ranked every bit as high as some of the best he'd ever had in New Orleans. Some of the lowest of those days matched the lows of back home too.

Like the day after he'd first shared Candra's bed, he'd been with her for two months at that point. He still wasn't sure how it ended up that way, just that they had ended up in bed. That night had been a lesson in sensuality to the cajun, a lesson in just how inexperienced he and Belladonna had been in their times together. Candra represented experience, experience she seemed to absolutely love showering upon him.

Much to his surprise, his job had him functioning almost as if he were her boyfriend, and not just a servant/lover combo. That felt odd to him, but he wasn't sure why. She took him to the theater, to opera, to art galleries, even to underground fighting rings on occasion. So many good times.

Contrasted by the times that were not so good. The night after they first slept together, he'd spent crying. He had broken his vows to Belladonna. He loved her, but.. he might not see her for years yet, and he was only flesh and blood – and Candra was a very insistent woman. Or the nights they went to fights. He found it barbaric, but Candra seemed to enjoy watching men beat eachother senseless. The absolute worst though, was when she had him steal from a Church.

That was one of his major violations of ethics, but.. she – and history agreed with her – said that the cross she wanted stolen was originally stolen from others. If it weren't for the fact history agreed with her, he'd have refused.

Candra lay nude on the bed, while Remy slowly pulled his trench coat on over his body armor. Those blue eyes watching, as if enjoying the show as he'd went from nude to into his armor and coat.

"Remy." It wasn't a question, it was a demand of his attention. His gaze shifted back to her, to see her flaunting her body, her fingers trailing enticingly. Invitingly.

"Yea chere?" Those smouldering eyes watched her. Even after a year in working with her, her body still left his throat somewhat dry.

"You don't have to go."

"Course I do, chere. Ya want de book don'tcha? Dat means I go get it for ya. De bed, it still be here when I get back non?" A wink and a grin on his part.

"I meant, Remy, you don't have to do this anymore. Working for me. Become my partner. Stay with me. I love you." The weirdest part was, he was pretty sure she meant it. Loving him. Even if most of her actions didn't show it. One thing he'd learned was Candra was a bit.. unique.

"What ya mean, partner?"

"Exactly what the word means, Remy. You're already my lover. I want more. I want you, here, by my side. Always."

"Chere... y'know I'm married.."

"Ahh, right. To that little girl-child Belladonna. You don't need to worry about her, Remy. I could have your marriage annulled in an hour, and the peace between your Guilds cemented stronger then ever."

He blinked, tilted his head. An eyebrow arched in question that his voice couldn't come through with. Was she really that well connected? To have that kind of influence on the guilds? Not for the first time, Remy wondered just who Candra really was. There were always hints about her that she was far far more then just a rich business woman with criminal desires.

"Yes, I could do it. Will you stay, Remy? Be my partner? My lover? My husband?" She batted those long lashes at him, and ran a hand across her smooth stomach. A stomach that still showed bite marks from their earlier adventures, as well as quite a few other parts of her body. All of which she seemed to be touching, as if wanting those marks to remain.

While Remy felt ice forming in the pit of his stomach. Stay with her? MARRY her? He loved Bella still. Every night he lashed himself in his own thoughts over failing Bella this way, being in another womans bed. He hated himself for it. Worse, he knew he didn't even love Candra. Like her? Sure? Enjoy time with her? Yeah. Enjoy her bed? Beyond a doubt. Fond of her? Definitely. But no, he didn't love her..

"Chere..."

He didn't get any further. Her face contorted, and Remy just realized the grievious error he'd made. A great many of his jobs had been to steal from people who had slighted her. She never took losing, or any form of rejection well... and he'd just been about to deliver the ultimate form of rejection to her. That she'd ready just in his tone.

But what came next wasn't what he expected. She didn't launch herself at him, didn't go for a gun, or a knife, or anything physical. Instead a mirror ripped itself off a wall and hurled at him, the shock so much that he barely even dodged the mirror.

"No!? You reject me for some misbegotten love of a girl-child? Then you will be on your knees begging me to accept you as my own, by the time we are done!" Then she did hurl herself out of the bed, clothes seeming to assemble on her even as she moved. Worse, he felt himself flung against a wall by forces he couldn't see, impacting the wall hard.

"Chere! Stop dis! Candra.. ya know ya don't wanna do dis. Dis time I spent wit' ya, being wit' you, been some of de happiest days of my life. Marriage ain't somet'in dat I'm ready for yet though."

There was no sign on if she was listening to him or not, because three knives floated out of her top dresser and floated over her shoulder.

Her grin was cruel, and it fit, in the odd red body armor she wore over her form. Vaguely reminiscent of Assassin styles, but somehow more. Remy realized he was staring death in the eye, as he struggled helplessly against the wall.

"I will hear you beg me to be allowed just to keep serving me. Then you will beg to be allowed the privilege of being mine, Remy... and you will be very, very convincing. Or you will not survive the night."

"Candra.."

"You're not begging yet." Those knives began to spin over her shoulder, and one flung across the room to stab the blade 3" deep into the solid wood. He gulped.

Oh shit. Tante always said dis heartbreaker face of mine was gonna get me in trouble. Shit, what kinda psycho did Henri send me t'work for anyway? Merde, dis ain't de way it supposed t'end.

...To be continued.