by Lyn Brittan
She also loved knowing that Luca stood right there, watching her from the shower. Slower than necessary, Fanchon Marie removed one article of clothing at a time. She hadn’t had on much to begin with. First her pajamas bottoms went. Then the top. Next, Fanchon Marie raised one leg to dip a toe into the highly raised oval Roman tub. Rather than continue in, she lounged on the side. “I’ll wait.”
The water in the shower stopped six seconds later.
Long strides brought Luca over and into the tub before Fanchon Marie had time to register that she’d been pulled in as well. Rather than position himself behind her, he brought her down so that her body straddled his.
“Where did you go last night?”
She froze for a moment and chose her words carefully. “Luca, do you trust me?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer, not sure she could handle whatever he said. “Even if you don’t, I need you to start right now.”
Fanchon Marie waited for him to say something, but his mouth brought nothing but a million small kisses. Her lips, her eyes, her nose and forehead – each area of her face received equal attention. Only after peppering her for another two minutes, did he gently enter her.
He moved slowly. So slowly that Fanchon Marie wondered how this could be the same man she’d had sex with before. The man inside her was making love to her. No crushing kisses or bruising holds, this man--
“I want to put my child in you.”
Well, that’s a new one. Instead of killing the mood, well, it sounded so primal, so possessive. She liked it.
Luca pulled away enough to move his head from her shoulders to face her. “I want a family with you Fanchon Marie. A life. I will be whatever you need me to be, but I need you to stand by my side. Not because you have to. Not because it’s what is best, but because—”
“I want to.”
And THAT’S when her old Luca returned. He grabbed her hips, forced her down as he pounded in and out. Luca removed one hand from her backside to brace against the edge, allowing him to drill deeper.
Fanchon Marie sat on the edge of awareness, very near to shattering when Luca’s garbled words hit her ears. “Take. All. Of. Me.” Lord knows she tried. Fanchon Marie pistoned up and down, sweat dripping down her body. She would have kept it up, but then her mind exploded into million, fanfuckingtastic little pieces.
A vaguely aware Fanchon Marie heard him roar in her ear, followed by a sensation of being lifted from the tub, wrapped in a robe, and carried to the bed.
She didn’t know what her future held, but her present was creating a strong will to fight for it.
Sometime later, a roar of a different kind woke her up.
“Fanchon Marie! Get the hell up! What the hell happened to my clothes?”
She smiled weakly into the pillows. “Moths?”
Chapter Ten
God bless Sophie. Luca made would give her a raise for hiding and thus saving his clothes. One less thing to deal with today, the eve of Beltane. The real Breznik ran loose in the streets, the dead continued to rise, and on top of everything else, tomorrow was his wedding day.
His intended sat across from him on the other side of the desk, clacking away at her laptop. After their morning fight over the clothes and her loving apology, they’d been working on finding patterns in the locations of the walking dead. “Anything?”
Fanchon Marie slightly looked up. “No. Scatter shots all over the city. I don’t think there’s any logic to the attacks, I wonder–” Fanchon Marie stopped. “Anything feel strange to you, right now?”
No, but something sure as smelled weird. Luca leaned back in his executive chair, shaking his head in disgust. “The wolves are back.”
A ruckus below proved his words true. “Let’s get this over with.” He picked up the house phone and said, “Allow them to come in.” Moments later, the mismatched werewolves crossed the threshold of the library.
“Good morning!”
“Ah, my Callie. Every day, you are a bit more lovely than the day before.” The little thing ran towards him and giggled in his chest. “You know, Gregorio’s still single, and he thinks you are divine. Which you are. Perhaps—”
“Shut up. Why are we killing things that are already dead?”
“Sean! Don’t be rude!”
“I’m sorry. Shut up and good morning. Now, explain why we’ve spent the last few hours re-killing things that are already dead.”
Callie rolled her eyes but pressed the question. “Luca, it is bad out there. Ever since last night—”
Luca raised his hand to pause her. “I know, the spirits—”
“These are more than just spirits,” Sean said. “They’re people. Or rather, they were.” He pointed his finger towards Fanchon Marie. “Is this some of your Vodou crap?”
Bad move. Luca rolled up his sleeves. “Back off, pup. I’m feeling mighty territorial today.” He took a minute to calm down then continued. “This is the work of Breznik. He’s calling the spirits, playing with them, keeping the ones he can control, and releasing the rest.”
“These are ‘the rest?’”
“Yes. After a time, they seek out new bodies. Callie, I need your help.”
“No,” a masculine voice said softly.
“Don’t speak for me, Sean.”
“Callie—”
The diminutive woman spoke for herself. “We’ll take out as many of these as we can. But if you kill Breznik—”
“It should end them all,” Luca said. My men are stationed all over the city looking for him. Fanchon Marie is to stay in the house until the wedding tomorrow but—”
The bride-to-be finally joined the conversation. “I can’t stay here all day. I have to do things for tomorrow!”
Two other pairs of eyes turned towards Fanchon Marie. Though no one said a word, their eyes put their feelings out pretty freaking clearly. One set called her idiot, the other looked sympathetic.
“I really don’t care what you think. I work every day of my life, helping brides get ready for their weddings. What about me? Oh my day...my one day, I’m just supposed to let it go? Hell no! I deserve a proper freaking wedding day. I deserve the whole thing. I’ll be damned if you, you or.” She stuck a finger in Luca’s breast. “You mess it up.”
Several sets of eyes glanced around, making contact with each other, while managing to completely avoid the bride to be in the center.
“Well?” she asked, arms crossed and fingers tapping on opposite arms. “I’ll stay with her,” Callie said. “I’ll guard her with my life, Luca. We owe you so much.”
“I don’t owe him a damned thing.” Callie shut him up by pointing to the two golden wolf statues at the back of the room.
Damn straight they owed him. They owed him a lot.
“We’ll make a point to check in every fifteen or twenty minutes. And Sean will be with us the whole time.”
“Jesus. We’re not guard dogs.”
“Stop it, Sean. Anyway, we will keep her safe.”
****
Thirty minutes later, Fanchon Marie walked with her arm entwined in Callie’s. The woman had been a lifesaver, and it was easy to see why she and Luca had such an easy relationship. Sean, on the other hand, that one needed more explaining. “So what’s on the deal with Luca and Sean?”
“Nothing. Ohhh, eclairs!” Which, of course, they had to stop for. The werewoman had a never-ending pit for a stomach. One more endearing quality that Fanchon Marie liked about her. With her parents and sisters out of town, it was good to have another female around. Even one whose mind jumped from sage to sophomoric minute by minute. “All right, we’ve hit the caterers and your florist friends,” Callie said between bites. “But what about musicians?”
“That falls in Luca’s hands. Gregorio’s younger brother is a wannabe DJ, and my new father-in-law arrives tonight with his entire clan – inclusive of traditional musicians.”
“Fine. What about the wedding dress?”
“Already finished. It’s gone thr
ough several rounds of enchantment over the past few years. First his people, then my own and now it’s back with his mother.”
The man five steps behind them entered the conversation. “God, I really hate to ask, and please don’t take this as any indication that I care,” Sean said. “But why?”
“Well, again not that you care, but for protection, good fortune, prodigious progeny.” Fanchon Marie shrugged. “Standard magical stuff.”
“Ignore him, girl. We’ve got to concentrate. Anything else we’re missing?”
Callie rattled off a list of things. Some she hadn’t thought of herself. The girl would make a hell of a wedding planner. “You ever think about getting into the business?”
“Weddings? No.” She waved a hand in the air and clicked her tongue. “I’m not a business suit type of girl.”
“You don’t have to be. Just personable.” Fanchon Marie glared over her shoulder. “It’s not a talent everyone has.”
“Cute,” Sean said without a trace a humor. “You want her to work for you, don’t you? That Rom Baro shit’s rubbing off on you.”
Callie giggled at this exchange, but shot the blond a look that made Fanchon Marie wonder which one of them was really in control of the other. “He’s sorry.”
“No, I’m not. Tell her you have a job.”
“Oh?” Fanchon Marie asked. “What is it?”
“Odd jobs,” Callie said, but glared at Sean who snorted once again. “Anyway, I don’t think we’ll be here for too much longer. Someone wants to go back home to sit and do nothing all day.
“Maybe someone,” added a red-faced Sean, “is trying to keep someone else’s worthless ass safe.”
“Worthless? Just because some of us weren’t born with silver spoons—”
Fanchon Marie held up a hand between the newly warring factions. “Maybe once things settle down, someone, namely Callie, can stay here and help me expand my floral business into another avenue. Someone else, namely Sean, can get a job doing whatever it is that someones named Sean do.” Besides if, rather, when, she got pregnant, she would need the extra help.
“I don’t classify stupid, rich boy games as an occupation but—”
“I swear to god, Callie.”
She, and likely God, ignored this. “C’mon, Fanchon Marie, forget him. Tell me about the wedding cake.”
“There’s no time I guess. Not for the one I wanted anyway.” She whipped out a sketch of it saved on her cell phone. “It would have been awesome.”
“No kidding,” Callie said and gave an appreciative whistle.
Her phone rang in the middle of this and Fanchon Marie walked a few feet away to answer the call. Another bride wondered when she’d open shop again. “Soon” wasn’t an answer the bride wanted to hear, but there wasn’t much else to say. Further dejected, she hung up the phone and turned to see Callie lay against Sean, her head buried in his chest. For his part, Sean’s face was invisible in her crop of curls. The curls moved a bit, and Fanchon Marie figured he must have been talking into them, saying something. Words of apology, perhaps? If he wasn’t, he should be.
Sean moved his head up to rest his chin where his face had been. He wore a dopey smile for half a second, but opened his eyes and met hers, grimaced and bodily turned Cassie around. “She’s finished,” he said.
“Oh? Business? Everything okay?” Cassie asked.
“No. Another lost client. I miss it, Cass. It’s not fair. I want my life back. All of it.”
“Aw, honey.” Fanchon Marie felt herself pulled into another of Callie’s hugs, complete with a kiss. She’d been awfully generous with them all afternoon.
Sean, however, remained an ass. “That would be almost hot, if it wasn’t so lame. Callie, if you can manage to pull away from her, do me a favor and throw your nose in the air. Something’s got that not so dead anymore scent happening again.”
They weren’t alone in sensing it. A feeling of loss laced with anger pressed down on Fanchon Marie’s spirit. “I can’t smell it, but I can feel it around. Oppressively present.”
“Well, as best I can tell, we have two options. One, fight to save whatever poor soul is on the other end of this city block or two, walk away and have a stress free afternoon,” Sean said. Now, I’m all for a drama free lifestyle, but I can already see the wheels turning in your little annoying do-gooder heads.” She didn’t have to turn her head to know that the look on Callie’s face matched her own. “Annnnnd I’m out voted. Shocker. All right, come on, Daphne, Velma, let’s go save the day.”
The trio turned the corner with expectations of finding half-crazed undead wreaking havoc on passersby. Not exactly. The group of five recently undeceased lounged against a store shop waiting. For her. The creatures flew towards the trio, not at all looking like they wanted to shake hands.
Sean went after the two biggest ones, Callie took on the third, leaving Fanchon Marie and her Vodou to handle the remaining two. No problem. She didn’t have her normal magical implements, but her throat still worked. She chanted a song of hope and rest and of love and peace. She tried to rope them into a quest for serenity, willing them to return to their sleep. She saw her opponents falter then fade away into nothingness. Under better circumstances, she would have patted herself on the back. That would have to wait. The one Callie tangled with, on the other hand, had found some way to disable her and make a move towards Fanchon Marie.
She’d have to fight him off alone. Callie was out cold, and Sean couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything beyond that. Way to keep focused, kid. Fanchon Marie shook her head and braced herself for an attack from above. The creature’s feet glided millimeters above the ground, but stopped mere inches away from her. This one was different from the rest. It, or rather she, had more substance to her in mind and, apparently, spirit. She was almost attractive. Dead and shriveled everywhere, but her face. There was life there, trapped beneath the death. Knowledge too and more importantly, power. The spirit moved from side to side. Her dress, and an elaborate death gown like one she’d seen in old history books, swirled noiselessly. But her eyes! Fanchon Marie would almost rather poke her own out than keep looking at them.
“I’ll make you suffer,” it said. “I enjoyed that in my first life and now, I’ll have that pleasure again.” The thing oozed hatred and disgust. Fanchon Marie fought back to urge to wretch and cleared her throat.
“Save your songs, Vodou gal. Your people tormented me over the decades with them. They danced on my grave, drank over my corpse. You, my sweet, will pay for their sins.”
“Who-who are you?” Fanchon Marie’s voice quivered as much as her body. The unholiness of this woman ripped apart her defenses.
“Why, Marguerite Durand, of course.”
Fanchon Marie finally lost her lunch. Durand held position as one of New Orleans’s cruelest woman. Psychologists studied her back then and even now, her records made graduate student case study materials. What kind of monster would bring her back?
Fanchon Marie’s head snapped up as she wiped her mouth with the hem of her shirt. As much as she wanted to, she shouldn’t turn away from the creature. The strain of being in the presence of so much evil warped her insides, and she grabbed her throbbing head. This public display of pain translated to pleasure for Durand. The thing/woman licked her blue-black lips and giggled. “It has been so long since I’ve seen the power my name has on people. I will take my time with you. I will enjoy you so much.”
“Yeah, well, it’ll have to wait.” Sean! Having pulled himself together, he elongated his mouth enough to expose those steak knives werewolves called teeth. He moved before either she or Durand could react and the blades found a home in the bitch’s neck.
Life faded away from the eyes of the possessed woman, but the returned spirit wasn’t done yet. “Killing the vessel? Fine. Kill them all. I’m the one he’ll always bring back. I’m the one that can keep coming back.” As the kneeling body took its final breath, a wisp of smoke wafted out the mouth and jumped into
a passing bird. Fanchon Marie and Sean both leapt up to grab it, but the feathered rat swerved around them and snatched a piece of Fanchon Marie’s hair in its beak. Seconds later, it disappeared from view.
“No!” Fanchon Marie screamed, but too late. Marguerite Durand, one of the most hated women in New Orleans history, was the proud owner of enough of her temporal body to do some major magical damage. The body Marguerite left behind fell to the grown with a soft “thunk.” Layers of heavy fabric, the dress that had been Durand’s, was replaced by a more modern ensemble. That was bad. Durand’s abilities to control were far beyond any she’d ever heard of the dead possessing.
“You okay?” Sean held a recovering Callie in one arm, while holding out a hand towards Fanchon Marie.
“Yes, I’m fine, thanks to you,” Fanchon Marie said as they walked together out of the alley. “If that’s you in half-human form, I can’t imagine the damage you could have caused as a wolf.”
“I’m not so sure about that ability anymore. Taking out those other things? No problem. But that last chick. You saw. Nada. Everyone else was tied to a body. Remove the body, remove the thing. But her? Her spirit—”
“It didn’t bond to the body,” Fanchon Marie finished. “With all the others, once they find a new body, they’re undead, but physically killable, if that makes sense. Something like Marguerite would be too dangerous to control. Why on earth would the Morlena Romado it?”
“Well,” Sean said, “it does make sense in an I’m-a-cackling-evil-mastermind with a super-secret lair, sort of way. Come on, let’s get you home. I want to get Callie comfortable before I have to fight Luca.”
Callie stopped so fast that she nearly fell off the sidewalk. “Fight Luca?”
“It’s a given. When he finds out about this little brouhaha, he’s definitely going to try to kill me.”
****
Luca didn’t intend to stop until he lay dead on the floor, but the little punk wouldn’t fight back. “Get up! Now, Sean! Get...” Punch. “Up....” Punch. “And....” Punch. “Fight!”