Remy LeBeau, you always were a damned fool. That's partly why I love you.

I knew from the time we were kids that I was going to marry you someday. I still remember you as the little red-eyed pickpocket that Jean-Luc LeBeau took in as his own. We all knew you were a mutant, even before you got those powers of yours. Julien used to hiss "Le Diable Blanc" behind your back when you showed up at Mass with Clan LeBeau. He never did like you, but I always did.

You probably never really knew who I was until that time at Mardi Gras when we were 10 years old. You were running around with Lapin, trying to pick the tourist's pockets. I followed you around and your thieves' sense never even picked up on me. The Assassin's Guild is known for their stealth, though.

I remember the startled look on your face when I ran up to you. It must have shocked you to no end to have some little blonde girl throwing herself at you. I remember you when you weren't such a charmer, Remy. There was a time when a woman could have shocked even you.

You were mine from then on. I used to pretend to ignore it when I caught you peering over the pews to look at me. When you were really daring, you would sit in the row behind me and pull at my braids, trying to get my attention. Subtlety has never been your strong point.

You were under my thumb, and I liked it that way. I was the first girl you ever pursued relentlessly. I was so smug then, relishing my hold on you. When my father sent me to France that summer, I had visions of you spending the months pining for me.

I was the fool then. I came back to find my little tag-along had grown into a man. This time, you let me come to you, and I hated it. Suddenly I wasn't the only girl you had eyes for, and I was hyper-aware of that. The girls at the little private school we went to used to make eyes at you, and damned if you didn't flirt back. Do you have any idea how many little prep school snots I used to threaten to stay away from you? But for every girl I successfully turned away, there were droves more, literally throwing themselves into your bed.

There was never anyone for me but you, and you had realized it. Before long, I was another groupie, following you around the halls like a phantom. You played my game, pretending not to see me, letting me try to get your attention. I hated you and loved you for it. I vowed that I would have you. I would have sold my soul for you.

I had my father do the dirty work.

It was easy getting the idea of marriage planted in his head. By the time I was 15, I had Gris Gris and others suggesting that a marriage might resolve the feud between our families. He resisted briefly, but with some gentle nudging, he proposed the idea to Jean-Luc. They agreed to see if their children even liked each other before arranging anything.

It was arranged so that you would be my escort for my Sweet Sixteen party. Julien refused to go, muttering insults about mutants under his breath. I ignored him, refusing to let his hatred stand in the way of my plans.

I remember the look on my father's face when you showed up at the party in that dirty trench coat of yours. What a sight you were, unshaven and unkempt among all the suits and ball gowns. You did your duty as my escort and stayed by my side all night, making sure I noticed every glance you gave to other women. You made it a point to treat me casually, pushing my buttons by saving your smoldering glances for every woman in the room but me.

That's how I knew you wanted me too.

I was on to your game and I proved it by whispering in your ear that I would never belong to a thief like you. I knew it got your attention because the next time you looked at me, I recognized a gleam of wickedness in your eye that matched my own. You saved your smoldering glances for me the rest of the night.

We slipped away from the party and I let you make me yours in Julien's bed. 'Take that, Julien,' I thought, entertaining amusing thoughts of his reaction should he find a mutant making love to his sister in his own bed. I imagined him storming in while we only smiled at him smugly, as if to say 'We don't care.'

From then on, no other woman mattered. I'm no fool; I know there must have been others. But whoever they were, they weren't privy to your innermost thoughts like I was. I was the one who held you the nights you saw your friends dying at the hands of Julien and his cohorts. I remember your reaction when I became pregnant. I savored your pleased reaction as you dreamt about a large family of your own. I remember how disappointed you were when I miscarried.

We deserved our future, Remy. We were supposed to raise a family in the Garden District, waiting for the day when we would rule our Guilds together.

I blame two people for what happened on our wedding day, Remy. I blame Julien first, for letting his own anger lead him into challenging my husband to the death. How I hate my own brother's memory for ruining my own future. My father visits his grave, but I know I never will.

Secondly, I blame you, Remy, for abandoning me so easily. Do you think you mean so little to me that I wouldn't drop my own family to be with you? New Orleans, the Guilds, money, it means nothing to me. You, more so than Julien, allowed my dreams to wash away with the tides.

What made you leave without me, Remy? Was it fear that I would hate you for Julien's death? Was it fear of the future you seemed to want with me? One day, I will make you tell me, Remy. I look forward to that conversation, watching you explain just why you thought I was better off without you.

My name has two meanings, Remy. It literally translates to beautiful lady, which is how people see me. I'm the beautiful blonde daughter of Marius Boudreaux. I am the rich heiress to an amazing fortune, gathered in somewhat questionable ways. But my name also means "deadly nightshade," an herb Tante Mattie should be familiar with. To the untrained eye, nightshade is a plant that produces reddish flowers and rich black berries. But when administered to the human body, it is poisonous, often inducing a most unwelcome death.

My feelings for you are twofold, just as they were growing up. I love what we could have, and still could have. I hate you for robbing me of it. Never underestimate me. I will have you again. I'll do whatever it takes.