Am went to the desk and pulled out a stack of documents, curious to know how he suddenly found himself a person of interest. He paused when Victoria walked into the library again. Her face was red and her eyes swollen. She wore jeans and a t-shirt, her hair twisted up off her neck.
Victoria faced Rhea. “I’ve got to get out of here and go see what’s left of my place. And no, I don’t want company. Sorry.” With that, she stomped off, grabbed her purse on the hall table and slammed the front door behind her.
For a moment, only the crackling fire filled the space.
“Well that was fun,” Dra said sourly.
“Dra, please. Not you too. You see she is devastated. Please be kind.”
Drahomira sneered, “Are killers kind?”
Rhea snapped back at her, “Maybe this time you could try it.”
Drahomira’s mouth pursed shut. Reaper padded over to Rhea and put his massive head in her lap and whined.
“I know, boy,” Rhea said softly. “I am sorry.” Reapers tail thumped with hope.
Franklin stepped forward. “Madam, I must remind you that the woman you hired as a potential nanny for young Master Destin will arrive around noon today.”
Rhea nodded and rose. “Thank goodness and not a moment too soon. Make sure you settle Victoria in the East rooms, please. Those are the newest and has a bath. She will have use of the back stairs and some privacy. I will speak to Cooke about the meals. Then put the nanny in the gray room off Destin’s suite. They connect, and she will have a sitting area with a private bath.”
Franklin nodded and went upstairs. Amor-el bid his love goodnight, and Rhea motioned to Dra. The two women strolled down the hall to the room that once was a salon or the morning room. A classic living room by today’s terminology. Rhea sucked in a shuddering, deep breath, leaned against the wall.
“I should probably tell you—” she began. Dra’s expression stopped her.
“I need to go first, little birdy. First, I’m sorry about Vickie, but by the Beng Rhea, she makes it too easy. Plus Am told me about Tobias. Now that’s a kill I really will enjoy and you know I will kill him so don’t look at me that way. Your lover warned me off temporarily, and I agreed to wait. Something about finding a vampire den. If Wickhamshire is behind it, we’ll find out. But I have a second issue. You’ll never guess what I got in the mail.” She pulled out her letter and handed it over.
Rhea read. “Who is ‘S’?”
Drahomira grinned. “An old friend. Salley. I told you about him. Anyway, remember my story about the man who murdered Antony, the guy who saved me in Vienna? The murderer is getting out of jail. I have to go north. Time to keep a promise I made to the dead.”
Rhea sighed. Much as she hated it to admit it, Drahomira had one virtue that was immutable. Her word. Even a sworn oath of death, perhaps especially this oath given her gypsy roots, was paramount. She nodded.
“I understand, my friend. But it is a bad time right now. We have the holiday next month, you have a big party at the club, and there is so much to do around here.”
“I won’t leave for a few days. Don’t worry. We’ll settle this nonsense first and then I’ll be back before you know it. It’ll be quick.”
“That is what I am afraid of,” Rhea whispered.
The two linked arms and headed back to the library. No one noticed the blue roses turned brown in the hall vase.
VICTORIA’S HONDA DROVE faster now that she wasn’t loaded down with boxes, a wolfhound, or a nasty vampire. The traffic cooperated, and she made good time back to town. One glimpse in the rearview mirror showed her the tight line of her mouth and the jutted jaw of a woman hell-bent on answers. She swore she’d get them too, no matter what.
But nothing prepared her for what she saw as she pulled over a block from the store. It was as close as she could get. Yesterday’s police barricades remained. Tourists rotated in and out with their cameras clicking away. The noise irritated her, but her shock tuned them out.
Gone. Everything. The lovely façade, the scrollwork sign, the old glass front, the mahogany pillars. Gone. The second floor where she could look down two streets and watch the parades. Her shop filled with loving estate and yard sale collections. Everything. Even the rubble had turned to ash.
First, she gagged at the smell of herbs, ash, and other things. Then she sobbed and smothered her cries and her face in both hands. The pain cut deep and took her by surprise. Her instincts hadn’t warned her, and she blamed everyone and everything for something that made no sense. She kept asking herself why she hadn’t seen it coming.
“Shame, right?” A passing man said as he clicked a picture. “I hear it was a gas leak.”
“Nah, it had to be a stove fire. This was too hot,” the woman next to the picture-taker, said.
“Whatever it was, I hear it blew a hundred feet in the sky. Not even the bank camera down the street could get it all,” said another woman.
Victoria’s temper flared again, and she turned on the gawkers.
“It was cold-blooded fun. It was deliberate! I should know,” Victoria snapped.
The tourists shied away.
“Really? How do you know that Miss…?” asked the man strolling over from behind the police tape.
Victoria whirled to meet him and crossed her arms over her chest. “Because I, well, I just do. I’m the owner after all. Who wants to know?”
“Homicide Detective Mace Bayone and I’m investigating the explosion. And you are…?” He showed her his badge then handed her his card.
“Victoria Robards,” she took the card and seemed to deflate. “This was my store, Thymely Treasures.”
“You said you were the owner?”
“No, I rent, er, rented the building through a company downtown.”
“So would you know a Mister Jean-Louis Riviere? I understand he purchased the building.”
“I didn’t know that, but yes, I do know him. I’m staying at his house because, well, this.” Tears threatened again and hastily she wiped at them.
“Really? Interesting. And you said you think you know who caused the fire?”
“Yes. Her name is…” Victoria paused because someone behind her shouted her name.
“Victoria, ohmygod, you’re okay. Woman, I’ve been worried shitless.” Steel jogged to her and smothered her in his arms where Victoria, unable to suppress her despair, gave in and sobbed on his chest.
The detective remembered the young man from last night and nodded to him.
“Good to see you, again. Recovered?”
Steel, who opened his eyes just long enough to see the detective, blushed, nodded, and then hugged Victoria tighter.
“I hate to interrupt Miss Robards, but you were about to tell me who you believe did this.”
Steel handed her a handkerchief and kept an arm around her while she sniffed and wiped her face. Finally, she looked up, and her expression hardened.
“Her name is Drahomira. We were here earlier in the evening, and she said she was coming back. I think she did this.”
Steel frowned and bent back, shocked. “No, can’t be possible.”
With a glare and a shove, Victoria raised her voice, “What do you know? You don’t know her as I do. I know she was here. She is cold and callous enough.”
Steel’s eyes widened in raw disbelief. Mace took note.
“Do either of you know where I might find this Drahomira?”
“She owns Club Malachite, sir.” Steel offered a little breathlessly before Victoria could speak. “But sir, she’s not like that. I work for her.”
“You don’t know what she is!” Victoria yelled, her face blooming with anger.
Mace’s eyebrows nearly broke free from his face they went up so high.
“All right, calm down. You said this woman owns Club Malachite. And do you know where she lives?” Mace figured he was pressing his luck.
“Yes, sir. Her apartment is upstairs at the club,” Steel said quietly, eyes lowered.
/> “Fine. I’ll start there. One thing, if you’ll excuse us, young man? I need to speak to Miss Robards privately.”
Steel reluctantly moved away but hovered close.
Mace cleared his throat and turned his back on Steel before he continued sotto voce. “Miss, there’s an active investigation, and I don’t have all the details. I can tell you this wasn’t an accident. Plus there are odd residual markings carved on the fence out back. Like runes or spell work. And I noted a few on the sidewalk by the street before firefighters washed them away. Would you know about those?
Victoria shook her head. Magic?
“Also, the fire chief believes this was probably arson with an explosive device.”
“A…a bomb?” Victoria squeaked loudly and turned back to Steel.
Steel rushed back to her side.
“I’m okay,” she whispered.
“Yes, well, that’s all I can say for now. For the future, where can I reach you? I’m sure I’ll have more questions and updates of our investigation.”
“I’m at the Riviere Plantation out of town. You’ll have to use their landline because cell service doesn’t work out there.”
“So that explains why I couldn’t reach you last night,” Steel said, relieved.
Victoria glanced at her phone then Steel. “You called me? I never knew. But I felt something was wrong.”
“Well if you’ll excuse me, Miss, I have some calls to make. Thank you. I’ll be in touch.”
Mace closed his notebook, nodded to the couple, and strolled to his car. His thoughts danced around the information. He knew about the woman who owned Club Malachite, and he had heard of the Riviere family. This was New Orleans, after all. What people discounted as rumor and superstition, Mace knew often proved more truthful than initially believed. But he didn’t like where this was going. His mother warned him that magic was the path made up of time and blood. But when blood mixed with love, then blood must win, at any cost. His family knew that lesson well. He wondered if that’s what was about to happen now.
First, a few months ago he covered that bloody mess at the Riviere planation. Then rumors of a secret new club on the waterfront and disappearing girls, and now this. He knew vampires lived in NOLA, but this fire could suggest something much more dangerous. He drove away hoping there would be more answers than bloodshed.
“Oh Goddess, what have I done?” Victoria stared at Steel. “I should have listened to Miss Rhea. I’m so hurt and mad that I’m stupid. Of course, she didn’t do this.” She exhaled like a punctured balloon.
Steel swallowed, feeling the bile rise again. “What are you saying?”
“The detective said it was maybe arson. He also said there were markings, like runes or maybe spell work around the front and back.” Her eyes widened as a thought dawned. “Like someone specific was targeted. Someone who saw us go in the store.” Victoria suddenly jerked up. “Oh no. I have to get back to Miss Rhea’s immediately.”
Quickly she kissed Steel on the cheek, and then made a run for her car. She never noticed any speed limits, and thankfully, no one noticed her.
Gotta get those wind chimes up, right now.
FRANKLIN AND COOKE served tea out on the patio. Rhea relaxed in the bright sunshine and waited for her guest. She had casually tied her long hair with a blue ribbon and dressed in a full-length white sundress scattered with blue and yellow roses. To this, she added a soft cotton shrug against the chill. The day might be humid and pushing 90, and the strange cold continued, but Rhea hoped bright colors might lighten her mood. Sometimes a change in dress accomplishes what nothing else can. A shallow affectation but often useful during stress.
Before she came outside, she had checked on Destin who slept longer and longer during the days. With luck, her visit with the new nanny would happen without interruption. Just in case, she kept the baby monitor close.
Last night’s events weighed heavily on her. Victoria hadn’t called. Franklin said the news reported a deliberate act, probably a bomb. Who would want to hurt Victoria? At least they had Victoria safely with them, and they could protect her. If Dra left for a few days, Victoria was bound to see the truth and realize her mistake.
A breeze danced around the table tossing faded blue rose petals onto the wrought iron. The usually lush flowers should not be so dry, and she picked one from the vase. The flower crumbled at her touch as if blighted or, no, thirsty. In all her years, she never witnessed such sadness from them. It’s as if they feel inside me. She considered a quick walk, and a check of her new rose bower in the garden when Franklin appeared. Rhea stood.
“Madam, may I present Miss Sondra Lard of Maine.”
A young woman with a round face behind brown rectangle shaped glasses smiled. She was average height and reed thin with an abundance of straight ash blonde hair falling past her waist. Nondescript but lovely, she dressed in a white blouse and white shorts that ended at her knees. She wore sandals decorated with beads. Despite her glasses, her cloudy blue eyes sparkled.
“I am pleased to meet you, Miss Lard. That is an unusual name.” Rhea shook hands, and they sat at the patio table. Franklin offered tea.
“Could I trouble you for some cold water? This heat. I’m not used to it.”
With refreshments and niceties completed, Sondra downed a glass of water then wasted no time. She removed a sheet of paper from her small shoulder purse.
“I have my resume. Back home, I worked in the library and read to the kids. I went to school in Europe, but I came back home because I love the ocean. My mother is dead, and my father travels. I am prepared for full-time duties if you want.”
Rhea smiled, a little taken aback at the bluntness, and reviewed her resume. “Your experience is brief but full. What can you tell me about your home on Swans Island? I have never been there.”
Sondra grinned behind a delicate hand. “It’s small. We have less than five hundred people who live there. Most of the industry is lobster fishing. I love it. Unfortunately, many want a busier, more modern life and leave.”
“Like you. Why?”
“Honestly? I wanted to see something of the rest of the country. I visited New Orleans and decided to stay when I saw your advertisement. I love kids, and I always wanted to work on a plantation. So here I am. Plus you are near the water. That works for me.”
Rhea studied her for a long moment and failed to detect any guile. Her senses whispered there was something oddly familiar, an otherness, about the girl.
“Sondra, do you believe in ghosts or vampires?”
The young woman blinked, surprised. “Seriously? Maybe. I dunno. This is New Orleans, and I hear it is crawling with vampires. Voodoo too. I went to Madam Laveau’s grave. She has some serious worshippers.”
“Does any of the local lore frighten you like voodoo or ghosts?” Rhea leaned forward.
“I don’t think so. Maybe.” She considered for a moment. “No, I grew up hearing about mermaids and selkies and such. And I liked those stories. I went diving for pearls once and hoped I’d meet a mermaid.” She blushed.
“Have you heard about Atlantis? Or perhaps Fairy?”
“Oh, sure!” Sondra grinned. “I used to tell the kids not to wander off, or the fairies would take them away.” She giggled. “Until I got to be a teenager and then I kept hoping one of them would come for me. But then we spoke about the trolls and the goblins. My last prom was Neverland. I was Penelope. You know, one of the mermaids.”
Rhea’s senses flared, and she fought off a dizzy turn. Still, her warning instinct prickled and she decided to try something.
“Sondra, do you think you might be magical?”
The girl lowered her head, then looked at Rhea with a sad smile. “My father said my mother was magic to him, but I don’t know any magic or anything like that. So, probably not.”
Rhea tried to dismiss the odd feeling and reached out her hand. A small spark suddenly leaped to life in her palm, alive and dancing in orange and red. Sondra stared at it bu
t never flinched away from the fire. “Does magic frighten you?”
Sondra shook her head, and Rhea closed her hand. “Then look at me.”
Their gaze locked and Rhea’s eyes flamed with real fires. She saw them reflected in Sondra’s pupils and forced her inner fire to grow. Sondra gasped but again, did not seem afraid and neither did she blink. Finally, she leaned forward, curious.
“What are you?” Sondra whispered. “Are you a witch?”
The women broke eye contact.
“No,” Rhea chuckled and stood. “But if you knew I am not truly human, would you still want the job? It would mean my son is not human either.”
Sondra bit her lip and then nodded, and came to her feet. “I don’t scare easily, but if you’re magic, I want to learn. And if you are something else, well, I mean it when I say I don’t scare easily. I love children. That’s all that matters.”
Rhea continued to study the girl. “Think carefully. There is much I will tell you and some things you may disbelieve. Who we are and what we are is private. You will be required to keep a great many secrets. The consequences of breaking our agreement will be severe. Do you still want the job?”
Sondra did not hesitate. “Yes, ma’am. What do I call you? Mrs. Riviere?”
“No, I am not married. Everyone calls me Rhea unless you are Franklin and he calls me Madam.” Rhea leaned in and whispered. “He makes me feel like a school marm when he does it.”
They giggled together like schoolchildren.
The baby monitor echoed with Destin’s cries. Rhea thought something felt “off” with Sondra. However, given her recent and strange illness, Rhea wasn’t sure she could entirely rely on her intuition. Despite the worry, but Sondra did not seem threatening. On that she trusted.
“Very well. You may begin immediately if that works for you. You will live here, of course. Franklin will give you employment papers to sign and then he will show you to a suite of rooms. Take today to settle in, and tonight I will introduce you to the others and my son. Do you need help collecting your belongings?”
“Thank you but no.” Suddenly she pulled on her hair and said, “Um, forgive me but I took a taxi here, and I left my suitcases on the porch. I didn’t know what to do. Sorry if I seem a bit unnerved and presumptive. I wasn’t sure what to expect, and you are a bit scary.”
Love and Blood (Evening Bower Book 2) Page 8