Grim Tidings Read online

  “Still dangerous. Vampires move fast. Faster than most humans.”

  “But not as fast as you do,” I said.

  Pauli nodded. “Then let’s go now. While we have daylight. Less likely to find any blood-sucking nasties lurking around in the daytime.”

  “So you’ll do it?” I asked.

  “My reasons are entirely selfish. I kind of think vampires are hot. I’m always suckered in by the bad boys.”

  “Whatever,” I said, chuckling. “Not that I don’t relate… to the bad boys thing. But you realize that’s a total stereotype.”

  “Girl, I’ve been stuck in my momma’s basement for the last few weeks. I binged all eight seasons of The Vampire Diaries. I know my vamps.”

  “Funny how only hot people get turned into vampires in that show. It’s like sexy blood tastes better or something.”

  “If you were a vampire and you had to drink people’s blood, wouldn’t you rather bite good-looking people?”

  “Well, I suppose… but I’d be the vampire with a conscience. You know, the one who only bites criminals.”

  “Even ugly ones?”

  I shrugged. “If it makes the world a better place.”

  “Honey, you clearly haven’t thought this one through! I mean, what if when you bit some of them you passed along the Loa’s aspect, which you might do… you never know. And what if you turned them? If you’re biting criminals, you’re basically creating super baddies. You should only bite good people… people more inclined to resist the evil!”

  I chuckled. “You’ve given this way too much thought.”

  “You forget that I have one of those nasty Loa inside of me, right now. How could I not think about the possibility that I might become one.”

  I bit my lip. While we’d been jesting back and forth about the unrealistic behavior of television vampires, it hadn’t struck me that Pauli might actually be afraid he’d become one. In truth, it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. He’d been bitten. Then Kalfu possessed him on a bargain he’d made, foolishly, to try to save my ass. To be bitten by a vampire or a zombie could pass on the aspect that creates vampires. To be bitten by a Loa directly… that was practically a guarantee. But Baron Samedi’s powers had isolated Kalfu’s aspect in Pauli. Walled it off. Kalfu was trapped inside Pauli much in the way he’d been trapped in Papa Legba before. But if Kalfu eventually found a way to take over Legba, who was a super-powerful Loa, how long would it take before he could take over Pauli?

  “Sorry, Pauli. I wasn’t thinking…”

  “Pffft! I’m not afraid. I can’t be afraid! Fear is what gives darker Loa their power. The only thing to fear, honey, is fear itself. Totally cliché. But in my case, it’s my fucking creed.”

  “So suck up your fears… forever. That’s your plan for keeping Kalfu in his place?”

  “I don’t exactly have the luxury of alternatives, darling. The way I look at it is I’m lucky I didn’t end up living the rest of my life watching Kalfu use my body to bring hell on earth. I have a second chance to live. What’s left to fear?”

  I shrugged. “Spiders? Snakes?”

  “Spiders, maybe. But, honey, you forget… I’m College Aida-Wedo! I possess the aspect of rainbows and snakes. Snakes are my bitches.”

  Chapter Seven

  I watched Pauli through my rearview mirror as I drove down the road. There was no guarantee anyone was even awake in there to bother taking a peek. So long as the vamps were out of the sunlight, I imagined they had to have at least one or two on the lookout. It wasn’t like I knew that much about vamps. Hell, I didn’t really even know if they slept at all absent a stake being firmly lodged in their hearts. I visualized a room full of coffins, each vamp lying inside until the daylight passed. Probably not at all what it was like.

  I was relying on old Hollywood. In my limited experience with vampires, the real ones were something between the monstrosity of a Nosferatu and the sparkling beauties of Twilight vintage. Did they really sleep in coffins? I doubted it. Hard to find memory-foamed coffins. Not that I ever shopped for one. But I imagined there wasn’t too much of a market for that. Most of the dead aren’t particularly worried about waking up with back pain. Of course, I wasn’t entirely sure vampires could feel pain. Doesn’t mean they wouldn’t want something more spacious and comfortable than a coffin to sleep in. Did sunlight kill them, or was it more of an annoyance? Did garlic do anything? How about a crucifix?

  Then there was the whole question about how vampires were made. From what I understood, a bite from any of the undead—zombie or vampire—could do it. As could a direct bite from a Loa who was under the compulsions of a Caplata or Bokor. Baron Samedi, for instance, had been enthralled by a Caplata’s spell when his aspect raised a cadre of zombies who ultimately bit my parents. Best I knew, if the animating Loa was out and about—dwelling the Earth somehow—then those who died from such a bite might come back as zombies. Walking corpses who could be awakened to do the bidding of a Caplata or Bokor, or even the animating Loa himself. Those whose bodies remained intact and survived the whole transformation might become vampires. Not right away, of course. The vampiric aspect would linger in their flesh until awakened by the originating Loa. It was what Baron Samedi warned me about before… that if he came back, and too much “fear” was afoot that forced his “dark side” to prevail, it was unclear how many vampires might be awakened. And once they were out of the box there was no putting them back in. There was no way to restore their humanity. At least not any way that I was privy to.

  Vampirism, as best I could tell, was something like an inactive virus for those who lived with it. For those who survived a bite. My parents had it. I was pretty sure of that, now. And I was also pretty sure that even dormant vampirism had an impact on the host. In my parents’ case, they lost their minds. We didn’t know the cause at the time, but the more I’d learned, the more I was convinced that their early onset dementia was really a misdiagnosed case of vampirism. And now… what would Pauli find? Why were these vamps awake? It seemed to mean that Baron Samedi might be back, or at the very least a Caplata or Bokor harnessing his aspect. That would explain why Oggie had been here the other night… the Bokors, he said, were on the verge of rising up, a war was coming. That was why he recruited me to the Voodoo Academy to begin with.

  I parked my Camaro just outside the view of Casa do Diabo. As close as I could be in case Pauli needed me and Isabelle. Far enough away that their lookout wouldn’t likely see me from the window but still with enough view of the old French-style house that I could see what was happening. With a flash, Pauli disappeared—a streak of rainbow-colored lightning briefly illuminated the path he’d taken from the sidewalk to the window. He was inside… thank God for that… but now I just had to pray he’d quickly find my parents, figure out what was up, and get his little butt out of there without causing too much of a stir inside.

  * * * * *

  What’s taking him so long? Isabelle asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

  “Beats me,” I said, wiping a bead of sweat from my forehead. “I wish we’d had him put his phone on speaker or something, so we’d have an idea what’s going on.”

  Great idea… about twenty minutes too late.

  “I know, right? Worst thing is I don’t even know how we’d go about trying to bust him out of there.”

  We could do it.

  “Not with those wards the way they are.”

  We wouldn’t go in, but we could use a Treant to bust down a wall.

  I bit my lip. It was a destructive solution, but it could work in a pinch. Still, it was risky. What were the chances in the middle of the day no one would notice a walking tree busting up an old house? I’d seen some strange things in this city, don’t get me wrong, but an epic tree-versus-house battle was beyond even New Orleans strange.

  “If it comes to that… if there’s no other way. Still, I’m not exactly keen on destroying a historic building and even less interested in the attention doing s
omething like that would bring.”

  Just saying… we aren’t completely out of options. We could wait and do it at night if we have to.

  “Then we have no choice but to give him some more time,” I said. Twenty minutes, in fact, wasn’t all that long. Still, watching that house from a distance combined with all my worry about his safety, about my parents, about how shitty our plan was in retrospect… I could have been staring at a clock and time would pass faster than this. “Isabelle, do you think we’re taking advantage of Pauli? I mean, he’s a friend, but we’ve risked his life twice now.”

  I don’t know. I mean, he’s clearly in love with you.

  I almost busted a gut. “Pauli? He’s gay, Isabelle…”

  So?

  I rolled my eyes. Sometimes I forgot that, while she’d been in my world for roughly half of my life and nearly as long as she’d lived her own life, she was still a product of another time. A time when people weren’t gay. Not that they weren’t actually gay, but people didn’t have any idea of sexual orientation in the 1800s. They just thought everyone was basically human but some were inclined to certain perversions. To be “gay” back then just meant that you were a jolly sort of fellow. Which, I suppose, would still apply in Pauli’s case.

  “Isabelle, that’s what being gay means, that you only love people of the same sex.”

  No it doesn’t. It means you’re only attracted to people of the same sex.

  “How could Pauli be in love with me if he isn’t attracted to me?”

  Why do you think love has anything to do with attraction? If that was the case, how would you explain really old people who are still in love?

  I shrugged. “Their love eventually grows beyond the physical. Doesn’t mean they weren’t attracted to begin with.”

  He might not know it. He probably doesn’t. And you might not understand it. But I’m telling you, that boy is in love with you.

  “What if you’re right? What difference does it make? It would never work out.”

  You’re probably right. I’m just saying, that explains why he keeps risking his own ass for your sake.

  “And if you’re right, then I’m still taking advantage of him.”

  Yeah, you definitely are.

  “Excuse me?”

  I just agreed with you, Annabelle…

  “You weren’t supposed to! You were supposed to change my mind, make me feel better about this.”

  Maybe you shouldn’t feel better about it. It is what it is.

  I shook my head. “Damnit, Pauli, you’d better not be getting yourself in trouble in there…”

  We still have the Treant option.

  “We aren’t there yet. But I’m going to move in closer. I mean, maybe we’d be able to hear something?”

  Not hearing any objections, I locked my Camaro with my key fob and carefully strolled back toward Casa do Diabo. I knew it was risky. I knew it was dumb. But I felt guilty. Pauli was taking on all the risk. I certainly didn’t agree with Isabelle… I mean, Pauli couldn’t possibly be in love with me. Could he? The thought was laughable. Still, the idea wasn’t completely absurd given the fact that the only thing—aside from his own homophobic family driving him crazy—that would get him out of his months-long funk would be to go and risk his life for me… again. I had to admit that Isabelle’s observation would have made perfect sense if it had been anyone else. If it wasn’t Pauli. Still, I wasn’t going to figure this one out anytime soon. The only thing I knew for sure was that I’d sent him on a foolhardy mission and he’d been gone way too long.

  I approached the wrought iron fence surrounding the garden and flipped over it like a ninja warrior. At least that’s how it looked in my own mind. A drunk on roller skates probably has more grace than I did in the moment, but my acrobatic flop was functional, at the very least.

  I tiptoed through the garden, moving closer to the side of the house. I couldn’t touch the house, so pressing my ear against the wall was out. There was a second-story window, maybe ten or twelve feet up, that seemed to have a gap between the curtains.

  “I think I have a second idea for a Treant… one less destructive.”

  Lift you up to the window?

  I nodded. “We’re hidden back here well enough, I don’t think anyone would see…”

  If we do this, and someone sees you, you probably won’t have access to my magic unless you let me take over.

  I shrugged. “It’s daytime, right? The vamps aren’t coming out. They might see me, get all kinds of pissed about it, but what are they going to do?”

  Something to Pauli… or your parents…

  “Well, fuck.” Isabelle was right. If they did have Pauli and caught me spying through a window, would they take it out on him? Would they hurt Mom and Dad? I don’t know… but it was more of a risk than I was willing to take.

  I took a deep breath. What the hell was I even doing here? I just needed to wait. I needed to trust that Pauli could get the job done.

  “Ow!” A sharp pain struck the side of my neck.

  I instinctively reached to the spot where I was struck, something long… soft… stuck in the side of my neck.

  What the…

  Isabelle was cut off before she could release an out-of-character expletive, but it didn’t take long it to compute what happened. I tried to reach for some magic, I tried to summon my dragon blade… but I couldn’t focus. My mind was spinning. Everything was a blur… until it all went black.

  Chapter Eight

  A cold, damp floor pressed up against my limp body as I gradually regained consciousness. I tried to look around, but wherever I was, it was completely dark.

  I coughed, clearing my lungs of phlegm. I took in a breath and coughed again. If we were in any other city, I’d assume I was in a basement—the musty smell certainly fit. But this was New Orleans. It was no basement.

  “Isabelle, you there?”

  I… where? Here?

  “Yeah, I’m a bit dazed, too… need to channel a little magic, just enough to illuminate my eyes so we can get some light in here.”

  Okay… yes… need to see… we were drugged?

  “A tranquilizer dart, I think. Explains why you weren’t able to take over when I lost consciousness.”

  Could have healed us… if I knew what happened… if we had more time…

  I suppose it could have been a coincidence that whoever had attacked me used a tranquilizer. Somehow, though, I doubted it. Whoever it was knew about me… they knew about Isabelle. A strike in the back of my skull risked her healing me, or even allowing her to take over. The tranquilizer, though… it knocked us out completely before she even had a chance to act. And whoever did it didn’t want us dead, either. A well-placed bullet in the skull could have done that, and whoever shot me with the dart must’ve been a dead-shot. My neck is small—not the easiest target. And it ensured a quick delivery of the sedative. Isabelle and I were unconscious in seconds.

  “Sense anyone… sense anything?”

  No… but that doesn’t mean we’re alone.

  Considering the fact that we were lurking outside a suspected vampire lair before we got tranqued, chances were we weren’t alone, and Isabelle couldn’t sense vampires. They don’t have auras… they don’t radiate life.

  I inhaled—not that I needed to, but something about drawing the power of creation through Isabelle was like breathing. If I actually inhaled, it helped me focus, to ensure I drew in just enough for what I intended to accomplish. And virtually any amount of her magic would illuminate my eyes enough to get a peek at the room around me.

  A tingle spread across my brow, and from there flooded through my body like a low-power electric current. I opened my eyes, a green glow flooding the room. It was a smaller room than I thought. I moved cautiously toward one of the walls—all of them seemingly containing large, rectangular placards. I reached out my hand, running my fingers against the cool, smooth surface of one of them. I pressed on it slightly, and I felt the surface move
slightly. I felt an engraving. Letters, perhaps? The green light that emanated from my eyes gave me some visibility, but it was still hard to focus. I squinted, kneeling slightly to get a better look.

  “Alberto De Leonne,” I whispered.

  This is a mausoleum…

  I pressed on the placard a little harder, feeling the weight of what I was sure was a casket behind it budge slightly.

  “He isn’t in there, mon amie.”

  I jerked myself around, startled by the voice. I gasped.

  “Ramon? I thought…”

  “You thought you’d staked me, mademoiselle? Oui, oui… so you did.”

  My heart skipped a beat as sweat gathered on my brow. Ramon looked just as he had the last time I’d seen him. His skin pale, his clothing styled to a prior era. Only now he had a gash on his neck, black blood dripping down his neck onto his shoulder. “I don’t understand… your grave, it was undisturbed.”

  “Désolé de décevoir, mademoiselle,” Ramon said. “I barely spent a night in that grave after you staked my heart.”

  “Someone raised you, again?”

  Ramon raised a hand to his cheek. “Of course I had a plan for that, mademoiselle. It was my intention that you should stake me from the beginning.”

  I tilted my head. “What do you mean it was your plan? Why would you want me to stake you?”

  “L’intelligence, mon amie! His Highness required a test of your… abilities. Yours and hers.”

  “Mine and my sister’s? Who would want to test…”

  “Not your sister, mon amie! Or, should I say, mes amis!”

  I bit my lip. My French wasn’t great—but living in New Orleans you pick up a little, here and there. Combined with the year I’d taken in high school, I could tell the difference between the singular and the plural. “You refer to me as though I’m more than one… as friends?”

  “C’est vrai! It is true that you are more than one. The power you call upon is not your own.”