by L. M. Pruitt
I’d always wanted the ability to silence a room with little effort. Too bad Gillian had to die for me to get it.
Backed up in both directions as far as the eye could see, brake lights glowed in the late afternoon gloom along Canal. Royal had been shut down completely. The only traffic on the street was the funeral procession making its way slowly Uptown.
Rian carried Celia, under protest from Elizabeth. When she snapped at him about being perfectly capable of carrying her sister, Rian ignored her. Celia advised Elizabeth – unless she was nicer, Celia never get to wear the yellow dress. Elizabeth responded by telling her sister neither one of them had yellow dresses; Celia smirked, and responded, “Not yet.”
It’s hard to argue with a five year old who knows more about the future than you do.
The wind started to pick up and I glanced at the sky. Dark clouds had rolled in, and I heard the rumblings of thunder in the distance. “It’ll rain before this is over.”
“Have faith, Jude.” Theo smiled at me when I raised his hand to my lips to copy the gesture he was so fond of.
“In you, yes. In the weather, no. This is New Orleans, Theo. If one thing is constant, it’s the weather will change at the drop of a hat.”
“Maybe.” Theo’s smile grew at my snort. “Just keep the clouds at bay a little while longer, Jude. Consider it one more of Gillian’s lessons.”
You’re not supposed to laugh when you’re walking in a funeral procession. Anyone who had a problem could stuff it.
I’d always liked the cemetery Uptown, and saw why the Covenant chose Lafayette No. 1 as their burial ground. The tourists go there, but they’re respectful and it’s a quiet, more residential neighborhood. You don’t need to worry about people trying to contact voodoo queens in the same place you buried your family.
It’s the little things to keep in mind whenever you think about where you’ll spend the remainder of eternity.
Theo told me the area of Lafayette in which we stood contained former members of the Covenant, which explained the engravings on some of the tombs. You don’t find a picture of a roaring inferno on most tombs. It’s usually weeping angels and things along those lines.
Lies told me Gillian’s crypt housed all the former leaders of the Covenant, with the exception of my mother. In a sense this was my family plot. In two weeks I’d gone from having no family to speak of to a whole history. Most people would have drunk themselves under the table by now.
I wasn’t sure if I should envy or pity them. Probably a little bit of both.
Father O’Brien led the service but other than offering condolences and hope for a better tomorrow I have no idea what he said. I scanned the Council members, right at the forefront of the Covenant. Weighing. Measuring. Who could be trusted? Who couldn’t? I met Great-grandmother Lisette’s eyes and knew the answer to some questions.
The bigger question was how far did the betrayal go? Did I not trust her because of what she’d helped do to my family? Or a more clear and present reason?
Clinging to my leg, Celia patted it nervously. I looked down, startled at the tears on her face. I hadn’t once seen her cry, not even after the few hours she’d been left alone with Hart and company. She lifted her arms and I picked her up, shifting my stance to take her weight on my hip.
“You won’t let them die, will you?”
I didn’t ask who, because I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to worry any more than I already did whenever people left my sight. I opened my mouth to say of course not, but I couldn’t.
“Of course she won’t, Celia.” Theo moved and we supported Celia between us, a bright light against our darker hair and skin. Elizabeth looked at me and I shook my head. I don’t think any of us needed to know what Celia saw.
We had enough death to deal with at present.
“Do you think Gillian would have worked with her for two weeks if she thought Jude wouldn’t win?” Color me shocked, amazed, and every other shade of dumbfounded. Lies must have changed her diet, found God, or gotten laid, because I couldn’t think of a single damn reason why she’d be saying positive things about me.
Apparently her sister didn’t either. Guile scowled at her sister and muttered something under her breath while grabbing her arm. Lies jerked away, her face reddened, and moved to stand on the other side of me beside Elizabeth. Elizabeth looked at me and mouthed What the fuck, but I didn’t have a clue either. Lies had been nicer the past couple of days, but a complete one-eighty personality shift?
I made a mental note to check the liquor cabinet when I got home. Find out if someone had been dipping in on the sly.
Father O’Brien bowed his head and crossed himself and I followed out of habit. After a brief moment of silence a tiny wave of sound began to sweep through the crowd. By the time those closest to me parted and Williams and his followers came into view the wave had turned into a wall of angry murmurs.
Somebody at the reading of Gillian’s will had talked out of school.
Williams’ face held its usual blankness, like he didn’t hear the rosaries being prayed and the sarcastic requests for a lighter. More than a few of his followers looked uncomfortable.
“Thank you for allowing me to come and pay my respects.”
“Gillian trusted you, in a professional sense.” My voice was cool, almost clipped. “Whatever my personal feelings, I trust Gillian’s judgment. She would be upset if we allowed our disagreement to prevent you from being here, and working together in the future.”
Williams stepped forward until he was so close our clothes touched. I felt Theo bristle beside me, but with Celia between us there wasn’t a great deal he could do. The fact we were in front of my grandmother’s crypt probably put a slight damper on the inclination to beat the crap out of him.
“I told you before this was over you would hate me.”
It was surprising how calm I felt. Like whatever feelings I might have had for him had shriveled until I could tuck them down inside me and lock them away. I wouldn’t forget them, but whatever might have been between me and Williams wasn’t something which touched me anymore.
“Congratulations, Williams. You win. What’s the grand prize?”
For barely a second regret flashed through his eyes. Williams stepped away and motioned one of his followers forward. I recognized him as one of the men I’d seen the first night, the one who’d be twenty for all eternity. I hope he lied on his license and claimed to be at least twenty-one.
The boy held a carved wooden box, its surface dark and glossy from years of being handled. He passed the box to Williams, who held it for a moment before speaking. “Gillian gave this to me before we left to retrieve Celia. She told me to make sure you received it when the time was right.” He looked over his shoulder at the open slot, waiting for Gillian’s coffin to be slid inside. “I can’t imagine when a better time would be.”
I nodded, and Elizabeth stepped forward to take the box from Williams. She stepped back and out of the corner of my eye I caught Rian drawing her further back to put more distance between her and Williams. A little overprotective, but if his nerves were anything like mine, I couldn’t fault the gesture.
“We’ll be in touch.” I held my tongue, because there really wasn’t anything left to say. Williams nodded and gave one of his short, stiff bows. He waited for a moment, as if expecting me to reciprocate in some way.
I was the leader of the Covenant. Gillian’s granddaughter. I didn’t bow to anyone.
Williams nodded again, as if he understood what I wasn’t saying. “We’ll be waiting.” Between one heartbeat and the next he vanished and I sucked in a relieved breath.
“There’s a lock built into the box, Jude.” Rian’s voice was quiet, almost reverent. “I don’t suppose you have an idea of where the key is?”
“In my parlor, on the side table, under Gillian’s letter.” I rested my check on Celia’s head, rubbing against the silky curls. “This is Gillian. She made sure I had clothes to wear to th
is show. Do you really think she would’ve locked something away and not given me a key?”
“Point taken.” Rian took the box from Elizabeth without a single word of protest from her. Since Elizabeth was used to carting Celia around, I knew whatever was in the box had to be pretty heavy. I craned my neck over to look at the designs etched on the top, not shocked to find a pentagram and a trinity knot. If the box was as old as it seemed, it must have been passed down for a few hundred years. Something Theo said earlier popped into my head.
Whenever the former leader of the Covenant passes on, their Book of Shadows is locked away.
“It’s Gillian’s Book of Shadows.” A murmur rose from the crowd behind me and I turned to glare at them. “I don’t give a damn about your rules before now. I’ll take whatever help I can get. I’m tired of people dying, and on top of that, she was my grandmother. If she wants to leave me a book, she can leave me a fucking book.”
“The former Council rescinded her rights as your grandmother.” Of course someone had to be a bitch. What a shock, it was Great-grandmother Lisette.
“The former Council can go fuck themselves.” I smiled sweetly while Theo clapped his hands over Celia’s ears. Great-grandmother Lisette’s sightless eyes went big with shock. “Last time I checked, I was the leader of the Covenant and if I want to claim Gillian as my grandmother I damn well will, and anyone who doesn’t like my decision can go fuck their self.”
“You’re repeating yourself, Jude. You usually have more imagination.” Theo sounded amused. I noticed he didn’t tell me to stop cursing at his great-grandmother.
“You’ll have me mind my language, but not the common slut next to you?”
“Language, Great-grandmother Lisette. Children are present.” He didn’t say it outright, but in a way he did. Theo chose his side.
He chose me.
Great-grandmother Lisette harrumphed to herself. Turning around to push through the crowd, Guile, Christophe and a few others followed her. The rest of the Covenant remained, watching, waiting, wondering what I would say or do to shock them next, but I didn’t say anything. Celia did.
“Lizzy, Great-grandmother Lisette is such a bitch.” If Theo hadn’t been helping hold her, I would’ve dropped Celia right then and there. I waited for Elizabeth to correct her. And waited. And waited. I turned my head to stare at her, and she shrugged.
“I’ve always told her the truth is the most important thing.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“You open it.”
“No, Jude. It was your grandmother’s book.” Theo pushed the tome back across the table toward me but I was already shaking my head with my hands thrust out in front of me.
“No, you. Knowing me, I’ll get the key stuck in the lock.” I pushed the book back hard enough in his direction to have it almost fly off the table. Too bad we weren’t playing paper football.
Rian slammed his coffee cup down, making everyone in the room jump. “Give me the damn box and key and I’ll do it.” Rian stepped around the kitchen island, sliding the box down to the end of the table and dropping in a chair. He held out a hand, and I silently gave him the key.
“Really, Rian. You can’t be any more tired and out of sorts than anybody else.” Elizabeth stopped, like something had suddenly occurred to her. Her eyes narrowed, and I scooted my chair away from the table. This was one line of fire I had no desire to be in. “Unless you’ve been having visions and not saying anything about them?”
“No, Mother.”
“Mother, my ass. I’ll remember your crack the next time you want me to rub your temples because a vision gave you a headache.”
Rian opened his mouth, probably to snarl some smart-ass comment, but I’d had enough. I raised my hand and both of them shut up. Neither seemed happy about following the instruction. I started to tell Rian to open the damn box when the potted plant in the far corner of the kitchen exploded.
The plant didn’t really burst. The pot shattered, sending shards of clay everywhere. Potting soil scattered across the floor and roots snaked their way over the hardwood. I ducked under the table but the explosion ended before it began. I eased back up to find Theo and Rian staring at me. My eyes went wide and I shook my head.
“Oh, no. Not me. If something had caught on fire, you could blame me, but not this. I’m not too good at harnessing earth.”
“Lizzy did it.” Celia’s voice was bright and chipper after only a few hours of sleep. No doubt thanks to her crazy metabolism. My brain finished catching up and I did a quick head shake.
“What? Celia, go back to sleep. You’re dreaming.” She had to be and the chipper voice was just a lie. Elizabeth didn’t possess any powers.
“I’m not going back to sleep, and I’m not dreaming.” Celia uncurled from the padded bench along the wall and marched over to stand next to Elizabeth. She should have looked ridiculous in her footed pajamas with Disney princesses all over them. Instead, she reminded me of a disgruntled little old woman. “Tell them, Lizzy. You made the plant grow because Rian made you angry.”
“Elizabeth.” Theo’s voice held a question, one taking shape in my own mind. “Is Celia right?”
Elizabeth flushed clear to her hair. The heat in her cheeks made her look like the victim of a bad sunburn. She kept her eyes on her hands where they tangled together on the table top. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“You said you don’t have any powers, only hunches.”
“I don’t! I mean, I didn’t. I mean….” Elizabeth’s voice trailed off in a groan and she dropped her face on top of her hands. Her next words were muffled, but audible. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do, Lizzy.” Celia planted her fists on her hips and stomped her foot, the sound muffled by the pajamas. “Rian made you mad and then you made the plant grow.”
“Which would explain the increased health of the houseplants over the past couple of days.” Rian’s voice was amazingly droll, considering the situation. If I made someone so mad a plant exploded, I’d be a little sorry. Maybe apologize or something, but not crack a joke.
Elizabeth raised her head up to rest her chin on her hands, and I thought about ducking back under the table at the look in her eyes. Theo must have thought along the same lines, because he eased his chair back a few inches.
“Lizzy! You’re doing it again!” Celia patted at Elizabeth’s knee, pointing in the direction of the plant. I turned to stare and sure enough the damn plant grew more. Not as much as before, but roots extended and new leaves unfurled.
“Elizabeth. It would seem Gillian willed you more than just a place on the Council.” How Theo could sound so calm I have no clue, but I gave him props. “I’ve heard of this happening, but not for a very long time. Since before Lisette’s birth.”
I noticed he’d dropped the title before Lisette’s name. “Just another of the little bennies of being the Prophecy, right?”
“So it would seem.” Rian’s voice was still droll, but more amused. Glad somebody saw humor in the situation. “Trust Gillian to make sure her power went to someone close to you, and invested in your well-being.”
Trust Gillian to think of everything. I shifted my gaze from the now still plant to Elizabeth. Her color returned to normal and she no longer looked like she wanted to run Rian through with a sword. Celia leaned against her, patting her knee.
“Elizabeth.” Her eyes shifted to me and they were wary, almost frightened. Like I’d rip her up and down for something she couldn’t control. I kept my voice calm, almost bland. “Remind me to either get a bigger pot for the plant or move it outside. I hope you know where the broom and mop are.”
She looked bewildered for a moment before smiling. “Not a single clue, but you can always hire a cleaning service. I can find the number for the one Wily uses.”
“Of course you do.” Scooting back up to the table, relatively certain the storm had passed, I glanced in Rian’s direction. “Now that the entertainment portion of the evening is over, maybe we c
an do a little work.” I took the key from Gillian’s letter out of my pocket and handed it to him.
Rian took the key, turning the small piece over in his hand before sliding it into the lock. A click, followed by the creak of old hinges as the lid cracked open slightly. He lifted the top and the smell of wildflowers and clover wafted through the kitchen. The book he hefted out had a soft leather cover and even from where I sat I could see the pages were yellowed, some of them tattered.
Rian looked at me in question, and I shook my head. I wanted to be able to absorb Gillian’s words as much as possible, something I couldn’t do if I read aloud. He took a deep breath, and flipped to a page at random.
May 3, 1982
I received news today of Jude’s birth, and Martha’s death. The phone call from the investigator was short, although a full report was promised. I’ve no doubt I’ll receive news of the investigator’s death before I receive his report. The Council seems determined to enforce their decree, no matter how many people must die in doing so.
The orphanage where Jude was born is run by the Church so she’ll be provided for, at least in the most basic sense. I’ve done what I can to ensure she’ll not be thrown out on charges of being a witch. The Council would say I’m crippling her in the same way I crippled Martha, but I don’t think so. They’ve forgotten what the rest of the world is like, the world which doesn’t believe in real magic, and things that go bump in the night. I can’t see to her upbringing or wellbeing, but at least she’ll have a chance at a normal life.
They buried Martha on Church grounds, although under protest. The investigator helped grease the wheels with an outrageous sum. I’ll not stand for my flesh and blood sunk into an unmarked grave with other vermin. Her only sin was in loving someone too flawed. I’ll take blame in her sin, because all I saw was a chance for Martha to be happy.
I should have run Luc off the first time he came around Martha. I knew what a wastrel he’d been though he changed for Martha. I’ll never say he brought his own demise on himself, but part of me wonders if it might have been avoided if he hadn’t sold his talents to Hart and his cronies.