The Gathering

by Fiore, L. A.

  “Oh my God, they’re hot,” Doris said then blushed when she realized she said that out loud.

  “Who the hell are they?” Cyril asked.

  “Don’t know, but I hope they aren’t here to cause any trouble.”

  I felt Cyril’s eyes on me when he asked, “Why?”

  “Because there aren’t enough cops in all of Louisiana to take them on.”

  Thomas Grier had been sheriff of New Orleans from 1963 to 2008. How he had managed that long doing this job was nothing short of amazing. I was nearly eleven years into it, and I knew I wouldn’t be doing it for much longer, especially not after this case.

  His place was on the edge of the Garden District, a shotgun house with gingerbread trim and black shutters on windows that were so big and set low to the ground you could literally step through them to the outside. He was sitting on his small porch, drinking a glass of iced tea. He smiled when I climbed from my car.

  “Josiah Abiviny. The job kicking your ass yet?”

  “Yes.”

  He laughed, a loud belly laugh. “Told you. Want something to drink?”

  “I wouldn’t turn down a glass of that.”

  “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”

  The rockers were so damn comfortable. Thinking about a life of simplicity—one that seemed completely impossible with the shit going down—sounded really good. No deaths, no unexplained happenings, no supernatural killers. Traveling, doing some of that woodworking Dahlia wanted done, sex any time we wanted it. Fuck that sounded good. Tom returned with my sweet tea. It hit the spot. He settled back in his chair.

  “I heard about the McKinnons, nasty business that. You got any leads?”

  Only ones that came straight out of an episode of X-Files. “We’re going back through everything. That’s actually why I’m here. Do you remember a case with an Ivy Blackwood?”

  “No.”

  “How about the Devane case? Felix and Shelly Devane.”

  “Oh yes. That was tragic.”

  I was getting that fucking itch again. “Ivy Blackwood apparently started the fire. She was ten.”

  “A minor. No, there was never a minor in that case. It wasn’t even a criminal case. The fire was ruled accidental.”

  Based on the bucket of bullshit we were wading into I wasn’t surprised by his announcement. Nothing about Dr. Ellis or Ivy Blackwood added up.

  “Is there a file on this Ivy Blackwood?” Tom asked.

  “Not much of one. A few pictures, little else.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you. There was no girl, and they only pulled two bodies from the house.”

  “So who the hell is Ivy Blackwood? Why is she incarcerated for a fire she didn’t start? And why in the hell is Dr. Ellis so interested in her?”

  “Good questions.”

  “What do you know about the LeBlanc place?”

  He crossed himself. “That place is evil.”

  I was beginning to think the same. “Why do you say that?”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  He wasn’t long, returning with a file. “It’s nothing official, but I’ve been keeping a log of the happenings there. I should have given this to you when you started, but I didn’t want you thinking I was crazy. I knew there would come a time when you’d come calling on me about that place.”

  It was a pretty thick file. “That’s a lot of happenings.”

  “Like I said. The place is evil.”

  Thomas’ file was locked in my desk. I wasn’t ready to read through it, but I knew I had to. Cyril and I sat in the car staring at what should have been Dr. Gary Ellis’ home in the Garden District, the address on file for him. It wasn’t a house; it was a monument dedicated to the summer solstice.

  “I think he’s trying to tell us something, with the connection this case has to the summer solstice.” Cyril stated my thoughts exactly.

  “Yeah, smug asshole. All right, so let’s assume that Ellis isn’t what he seems. He’s holding Miss Blackwood and he had contact with Kathy McKinnon. Right now, he is our best suspect.”

  “I agree.”

  “An argument could be made that he was the one who hurt Miss Blackwood and who killed the McKinnons and Henry.”

  “I was thinking that too.”

  “I’m still having trouble with how Henry became what he is, and if Ellis is linked, does he know about those creatures? Is he involved and how did he know of the supernatural?”

  “Good questions. I can’t answer them,” Cyril replied.

  “Me either. And Ivy, she would be dead if he wanted her dead, so whatever her purpose is, he needs her alive. Why did he kill the McKinnons eight months ago and Henry only a week ago?”

  “I think it is ritual in nature,” Cyril suggested.

  “But a ritual for what?” I asked.

  “And how does Ivy Blackwood tie into it?” he added.

  “We need to figure out where the hell he was prior to 1985. Maybe that will give us something to follow.” I rubbed my hands over my face in frustration. “Let’s go to the courthouse. Tom said Ivy’s case was ruled accidental. I want to hear that from them.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking I want your grandmamma to work a protection spell on me.”

  “I hear that.”

  “There isn’t a record of the case,” Deidre Baker, the clerk at the courthouse said again.

  “You’re sure. Maybe it was another judge presiding?”

  “No, Judge Markel has been the district court judge for thirty years. It would have been him, but there is nothing in the system. I do have a file on the Devane house fire.”

  “Okay, what’s that say?”

  “The fire was ruled accidental.”

  So the sheriff and courts were on the same page, which still left the questions, who the hell was Ivy Blackwood and what was Dr. Ellis’ interest in her?

  “There’s no court case with Ivy Blackwood as the defendant?”

  “No, not one that was handled through this courthouse.”

  And yet there was a file on her case, police photos. What the fuck?

  “What about Misty Vale Sanatorium. How many patients are referred there?”

  “Misty Vale Sanatorium?” She checked her files. “I have no record of the place.” She turned the computer screen to us. “There is no record of a Misty Vale in our system.”

  “And Dr. Gary Ellis?”

  “We have no record of a Dr. Gary Ellis either.”

  I was getting immune to the bizarre because I didn’t even bat a lash. I had thought the place didn’t look operational, apparently it wasn’t but it existed. Ivy Blackwood was locked away there. Why?

  “There’s a bigger problem, gentlemen.” Ms. Baker announced. “It sounds like there’s a young woman who has been incarcerated without a trial. Any record of her commitment would have gone through this office, and we have nothing. We’ll get to work on her release papers immediately.”

  “What if she really is nuts?” Cyril asked.

  “Doesn’t matter. She can’t be held against her will without due process. We’re lucky if she doesn’t sue the state of Louisiana. There isn’t a court in the land that wouldn’t find in her favor.” Deidre wasn’t wrong about that.

  “When you have the papers drawn up, give me a call. We’ll execute them personally,” I offered.

  “Very good.”

  Cyril waited until we were outside on the steps of the courthouse before he said, “What the fuck is going on, Josiah? It’s like a house of cards.”

  “We don’t know who Ellis is, and we are hitting a dead end with the McKinnons, but we have Ivy Blackwood. He wanted her. He’s kept watch over her since finding her. Why? What is it about her that he was okay with unlawfully locking her up for the last two decades? We figure out who she is; we might find out what the fuck Ellis is up to.”

  13

  Ivy

  Peering around the corner, the hall was empty. Afte
r the visit from the sheriff, Dr. Ellis was unusually absent. Something about that meeting had been unexpected, something he hadn’t planned for. Was it possible that he knew the sheriff was linked to me? Was that what had unnerved him?

  I had always thought my dreams were just my crazy coming out, but what if there was more to it? What if there was more to why I was here? There were deaths happening right now. It was pretty clear the link to me the sheriff wanted to explore were those marks on my neck and arm when I was a kid. What caused them? And was it back? How many people were involved? How many were dead?

  Anger surged through me because Dr. Ellis was connected to all of this too. He had been at the hospital when I was a kid. He had been the one to bring me here. He had held me for twenty-two years, filled my head with the belief I was crazy. But I was beginning to believe I wasn’t crazy at all. He wanted me. Why?

  I needed to get into his office. I glanced around to make sure I was alone before I strolled down the hall. He didn’t have an assistant, so after a quick peek to see that the room was empty, I slipped inside. I needed to find the vial with the yellow label. It was madness to even contemplate taking the drug when I had no idea what it was, but we were all mad here, and I was desperate.

  I spied the filing cabinet across the room. Curious, I headed for it, but paused when I passed the pictures of his family. They never once visited. Not in all the time I’d been here. I never thought very much on that but now it was another piece that didn’t fit, another part of his perfectly constructed lie that was falling apart.

  “What are you doing?” the voice from the meeting with the sheriff asked out of the blue.

  I jumped and spun around. “What the hell? Who are you?” I asked to the thin air.

  “Tristan.”

  “We’ve talked before, that day with the sheriff.”

  “We’ve talked more times than you remember. Get the drugs and get the hell out of here,” he urged.

  I suspected he was right about that, another grievance brought against Dr. Ellis. He was somehow taking my memories. “I want answers.”

  A pause before he said, “Hurry it up then, Nancy Drew.”

  I stopped with my hand curled around the drawer handle. “Who the hell is that?”

  “Right…never mind.”

  Tristan was just a voice in my head so how did he know things I didn’t. Curious and keeping an ear to the door, I pulled the drawer open. I didn’t react at first because a part of me wasn’t surprised.

  “What?” the voice demanded.

  “There’s nothing in here.” I pulled open all the drawers and all of them were empty. “Where are his patient files?”

  Unease moved through me as I settled behind Dr. Ellis’ desk. All his drawers were empty too. There was nothing on the desk but a blotter and a pencil holder. No phone, no computer. Nothing. “This is all a lie, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know that and who the hell is Nancy Drew?” Another piece fell into place. I wasn’t sure if it was the crazy meter tilting all the way to one side, a reaction to all the drugs in my body, or the dawning that my imaginary friend wasn’t really my imagination. I didn’t want to ask, because I knew the answer and I couldn’t make sense of it. I asked anyway, “You’re not my imagination, are you?”

  “No.”

  “You knew I’d find nothing.”

  “Yeah. You want answers. The only one keeping you from getting those answers is you. You’re not crazy, and you aren’t imagining things. Everything has a meaning, piece it together, but quickly because you are running out of time.”

  “I need to find a vial with a yellow label.”

  “Why?”

  “Dr. Nelson. I think in his way, he’s helping me. That drug will help me remember.”

  A noise in the hall stopped me in my tracks. “I’ll check it out. You look for that vial.”

  Quietly, I moved through the office and found a cabinet that was filled with vials. One had a yellow label. I grabbed a vial and a syringe and pocketed them before heading for the door.

  “All clear,” Tristan declared.

  I jumped at his announcement, but kept my comment to myself. It wasn’t until I was away from Dr. Ellis’ office that I started to breathe normally again.

  “Tristan?”

  “Yeah.”

  “My dreams. They aren’t dreams, are they?”

  “No.”

  “Something is coming, something bad.”

  “Yes, and we all need to figure out what we’re fighting for.”

  My heart dropped because deep down I knew it, had felt evil growing stronger…preparing. “I’m going for a walk.”

  “What about the drug?”

  “As soon as I get back to my room.”

  A pause before he added, “Don’t wait too long. Time isn’t on your side.”

  I walked outside, around the house. I didn’t know how long I stood there, but some of the fog that kept my memories from me lifted. What I saw wasn’t what was there, but still the vision was so clear of a field and the lane that butted up against it. A woman in a white sundress, her dark hair falling down her back, ran as her laughter carried on the wind. She kept glancing back at the man she ran from, her face washed with love. He moved with determined strides, and when he caught her, he framed her face with his hands and kissed her. My chest ached at the phantom memory of that kiss, one of a thousand kisses and every one was like a snowflake, different and perfect in their own way. I touched my lips, closing my eyes to savor the memory. He was what I was fighting for.

  In my room that night, I wasted no time injecting the drugs into my body. I’d been a victim long enough. It was time to change the game.

  14

  She took another drink of wine though it did nothing to ease her excitement. If her mother knew she would kill her. She was supposed to be at school studying, not partying in the streets, drinking all night. For the first time in her life, she defied her mom and did what she wanted. She was so happy, happy enough that she was even contemplating quitting school. It hadn’t been her dream to become a doctor; it had been her mother’s. Her dream was to open a boutique featuring her jewelry designs. Her mother discouraged her, said she’d never make any money on her hobby, but seeing all the little boutiques in New Orleans, she knew her mother was wrong.

  She’d have to think about what came next for her, wouldn’t make the decision now while revved up and slightly intoxicated. Besides, she was meeting Justin. She checked herself out in the mirror. Her friend Lauren had told her to get the dress. She was so glad she listened. The simple lines hugged her figure; under the dress, she wore a black lace thong and nothing else. She was twenty and still a virgin, but that was all going to change today. She’d thought about having sex with one of her guy friends, but then Justin came along. Sexy, hot, sweet and the awkwardness after wouldn’t be there because whatever she decided, she had to go back to school if for no other reason than to drop out. She was leaving in two days, two days to spend with the hot stranger and then she’d figure out the rest of her life.

  A knock at the door had her draining her glass.

  Pulling the door open, Justin’s blue eyes smiled first. “You’re beautiful, Cassie.”

  She felt the blush creep up her neck.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll walk if that’s okay. It’s not far,” Justin suggested.

  “A walk sounds great.”

  His hand brushed hers; his hesitation was sweet. He linked their fingers.

  People were out in mass, the streets crowded. She took it all in, her senses were on overload, but this was a night she wanted to remember every detail.

  He led her down a small alleyway and a tingle stirred the hair at her nape, but Justin squeezed her hand in assurance. He unlocked a door and held it for her. Inside was sparse but beautiful. Someone had spent time lighting candles; the room was filled with them. In the center was a table d
ressed with a white cloth and dishes.

  “I thought we’d have dinner.”

  Her hand went to her stomach. “I don’t think I can eat anything.”

  A playful grin curved his lips as his thumb stroked her jaw. “Maybe after?”

  She couldn’t believe she was doing this, couldn’t believe how daring she was being, but yeah, she wanted him and she wanted him now. “After.”

  He reached for her hand again and walked her to another room. The bed was huge, black satin sheets covered it. In the back of her mind, she knew she wasn’t the first person he’d brought here, but she didn’t care. He moved closer, his hand moved to the small of her back.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  Despite the lump in her throat, she was very sure. “Yes.”

  He walked to the dresser and picked up two glasses of wine that had already been poured. “You seem like you need this.”

  Grateful, she drank the whole glass in one swallow.

  He laughed and brushed his lips over her forehead. “You’re adorable.”

  He took the glass from her and placed it back on the table before walking her to the bed, sitting on the edge and pulling her between his legs. “Will you take your clothes off for me?”

  Nerves twisted in her belly, but she was so turned on she didn’t hesitate. Her fingers felt funny as she pulled one strap down her arm then the other. His eyes were glued to her, like she was the most beautiful woman in the world. And that focus made her bold. She pulled the cotton down her body, his eyes heated when her breasts were freed. He followed the fabric down her stomach; his focus lingered on the swatch of black lace between her legs.

  “You are so fucking beautiful.”

  She felt beautiful with him.

  His gaze swept over her, his fingers moved over her stomach, played with the edge of the lace that covered the part of her he wanted. He slipped his fingers under the lace, found the heat of her. His thumb rubbed her clit, and her legs went weak.

  “Spread them for me,” he encouraged, her legs responding before her brain caught the command. He dragged the lace down her legs. His thumb continued its assault on her clit as his fingers wandered before sinking into her. She gasped at the pain, but the pleasure that followed had her eyes closing and her hips shifting into his touch. His eyes were dark, almost black when he drew her closer and pulled her nipple into his mouth. He bit down, and she cried out in pain even as her clit spasmed in pleasure, the orgasm so intense she grabbed onto his shoulders to stay upright. She was lightheaded when it ended.