One masked dancer, though, remained in the center of the cleared dance area. Christophe approached with caution; the figure stood perfectly still. As he lifted the dancer’s mask, he expected to see the woman he’d spotted earlier; instead, there was nothing inside. He heard Olivia’s laughter only, and he woke up, clutching not the mask but the edge of the covers in his hand.
He’d known all along that Olivia was pursuing Liz. Wren was simply a fun diversion for her; such dalliances of hers hadn’t bothered him. He’d been happy to see Wren go to jail, though, as he’d hoped that would mean Olivia would give him more attention. In the beginning, she had been more attentive and he’d felt she truly valued him. But now, he wondered what his place was. If there were Others that meant that he wasn’t so special after all.
He thought about Olivia’s motivation for choosing him; his family, or more specifically, his grandmother, knew secrets Olivia wanted to know. He’d watched those secrets destroy his mother. Those same secrets made him an outsider in his own family, as only those who were expected to carry on the tradition of being Marie Laveau—only one girl child in a generation—were given the honor. His mother, Rosalie Garnier, refused. She took her own life instead of allowing her body to be taken over and her identity cast aside. Now his sister, Vivienne, would be his grandmother’s next target. He felt a pang of regret, but he also one of anger. He’d willingly strike a deal with his grandmother if he could have some level of power within the family.
Instead, she treated him as her errand boy, an insignificant convenience. Olivia, though, lured him in with sweet talk of his specialness and of how he could really make a difference for her. She’d promised him power beyond what he could imagine. And she’d delivered up to a point. He felt powerful when he was with her or was doing her bidding. And, he certainly enjoyed the physical power he’d gained since being turned. Donors’ submission to him was one thing, but the thrill of a true hunt was intoxicating to him. It made him feel godlike.
But now he knew there were Others.
He wondered what she’d offered them and why she’d chosen them. With Wren, she’d always told him it was just a bit of fun. He knew, too, the story of Daniela, and he’d told himself he could live with sharing Olivia if it meant in return that he still had a favored spot in her life. He also empathized with Liz. In the same way he had been used by the women in his family, he felt that Olivia’s manipulation of Liz was unfair. He didn’t understand why Olivia didn’t just go to her. If the story was as romantic and beautiful as Olivia made it out to be, surely Liz would welcome Olivia into her life.
Now, though, he felt as if everything he’d been told was likely half-truth at best. Before he’d fallen asleep, Olivia had done what she does so well. She’d diverted his attention from his questions by caressing him into submission and letting him believe all that mattered was how powerful he felt with her legs wrapped around him and her breath hot and quick in his ear.
When she returned later, he was still there; she knew he would be. He was there because she wanted him there. It wouldn’t have crossed his mind to leave. She’d planted that suggestion in him as easily as slipping her hand up the back of his shirt. Every caress and kiss held control in it. Each one built up his confidence in her choice in him. He was Christophe Garnier. He was someone special.
He was milling about the house when she came back. The house was a large Victorian three blocks or so off of St. Charles on Thalia Street where it crosses Coliseum. Olivia spent tons renovating the house. The renovations had included soundproofing rooms and setting up some apartments for her few assistants, which is how she thought of the household help. Largely her nanny Anna Lisa, a donor who was fiercely loyal to her, reared her. She’d built up a small group of donors in New Orleans who were likewise loyal to her. When she entered the house, she could tell he’d been occupying himself with one of them. She could smell her on him.
“You do realize that I’m not going to be envious of time you spend with Elaine, yes? Donor relationships are wonderful, but they’re sort of like pacifiers. You’ll tire of her soon enough. Besides, it’s not like I can’t have you both whenever I please.”
She could see she’d struck a nerve. She made her way upstairs to her master suite; most of the upper floor was her domain; she’d had a wall knocked out between two of the rooms here to create one long room that spanned the entire width of the back of the house, overlooking the courtyard below. There was also a small balcony off of that great room, and that’s where she headed now, sitting and waiting for Christophe to follow. She knew he’d have questions, and she was ready to answer them.
He resisted following her for a few minutes before finally coming out and standing at the railing, looking down into the courtyard. He refused to speak at first, so she took the lead in the discussion.
“You know I am not the first of our kind. I’ve told you as much; you know the story of my father, for instance, and you also must realize from the multitude of books that have been written about us that I am not some unique being.”
He turned to face her as he asked, “So, you didn’t make the Others?”
She was honest with him. “Some, yes, I did. Many were here when I arrived.” She paused. “For instance, Elaine was a donor before I met her, Christophe. Ask her. She’ll tell you how long she’s been in New Orleans.”
He considered this for a while. He’d never really wanted to have conversations with donors before and largely avoided thinking as he fed from them. He preferred hunting for regular prey; their thoughts were far less guarded and he thrilled at the fear he could arouse, followed by the sweetness his victims felt when he fed from them. He knew what that sweetness was like; he’d felt it the first time Olivia had fed from him, when she’d made him as he was now.
Now he only felt that sweetness through those he hunted. He’d felt it most strongly when he’d drained the life out of Tim Clark. At the moment of death, the sweetness and light he felt reflected from Tim was unlike anything he’d experienced before, even more pure than what he’d felt when Olivia turned him.
“So, tell me I’m not just another conquest.” He sat next to her.
“Oh, you, my lovely man, are far more than just a conquest or a diversion. You wanted the power I’ve given you; it is your right to have it. Your family treats you like an errand boy. I can teach you how to use your power in ways that they never imagined possible. And, you have access to the secrets that will make the two of us far more powerful than any of the Others.”
He turned this over in his mind; she was right. In their time together over the last few months he’d had far more power than ever. While he was still acting as his grandmother’s errand boy, he knew he was made for something bigger and more important. He’d never felt that way before meeting Olivia. He also knew he had a choice to make; he could stay as he had been, willing to only do what she asked of him, or he could learn from her.
“Teach me, then. Prepare me to lead with you.”
In the months that followed Halloween leading up to when Liz returned shortly before New Years, Olivia helped Christophe. She knew that it was necessary to train him if he was going to find the secrets she so desperately wanted. She also welcomed the opportunities this would provide for Christophe to help her once Liz was back in town. She also had a plan to concoct for Wren; having more allies in her corner was important the closer she got to reclaiming Daniela as her own.
Christophe quickly learned easy transformations; she taught him the trick of transforming into the shape of a bird first, then of a dog. She wanted him to be able to observe Liz closely and protect her if the need arose. She told him how she’d protected her from the muggers in Washington Square Park. She also taught him how to travel through disappearing and materializing in a different location. He took to this quickly, as well, falling in love with the feeling of dissolving. It was a close second to that sweetness he’d felt that first time when Olivia had nearly drained him and then pulled him back to the land of
the not quite living by wetting his lips with her own blood.
He was a willing pupil, and by New Years Eve, Christophe found a confidence he’d never known he was capable of. Olivia focused on his development and the two of them grew quite close as they roamed the city and hunted together. In the early light, they’d collapse together, Olivia feeling renewed through teaching Christophe things new to him. In her travels she’d never allowed herself to grow attached to others, not since Istvan. While she didn’t feel for Christophe as she did for Istvan, she did have a fondness for him, and she felt a kinship with him. Christophe had been so friendless for so long that she identified with his need to fit within a family.
She wondered if this was what Istvan felt for her so many years ago before she brought him Zofia as an offering. His rage surprised her; she hoped he would be happy she’d seen to it he needn’t worry about eternity alone once she was gone. Instead, he’d hated her for what she’d done. And now, Zofia was in New Orleans and apparently working with the Others. Olivia knew Istvan would have trained her well, and because they had been so close, he was able to tell Zofia more about Olivia than anyone other than her father could have. That put her at risk.
That risk is why she considered freeing Wren. If a showdown with Zofia was coming, she needed as many allies as possible. She knew she couldn’t just release her and leave an empty cell behind. She’d considered killing her and removing that obstacle altogether, but Wren had shown resolve and determination so strong Olivia was drawn to her in a new way. It would be a shame not to save her, and an even bigger shame not to use her.
Besides, she reasoned with herself that she might use Wren’s escape as a way to test the process of transferring a soul from one body to the next. She was sure that was how Marie Laveau had escaped death and returned in 1881 to preside over the ceremonies on the shores of Lake Pontchartrain. When she closed her eyes and thought back to that moment as she stood in the sand watching Marie at the altar, she felt a twinge as if someone pinched her and said “Yes, I am here” as Marie’s flashing eyes locked on hers for a split second before she began twirling and dancing, Zombi wrapped around her like a protective cloak. Olivia had never quite felt anything like that sensation, and she’d felt a repulsive coldness from Marie. She realized at the time that it wasn’t safe for her to push further with Marie, and she’d lost herself in Lisette. Still, those eyes haunted her for decades, first in her dreams, and now in her bed. Christophe had the same eyes, just without the power.
She’d also seen those same eyes when she’d passed his sister, Vivienne. She first met her at the same party where she first encountered Christophe. Vivienne stopped by to tell her brother she was leaving, and Olivia was so startled at seeing her face that she almost lost all composure. Vivienne was a ringer for the Mambo she’d seen in 1881. She’d looked into those eyes again, yet this time there was no darkness, only light.
Vivienne was not yet turned into Marie, but as Olivia suspected when she saw her, she was being groomed. Christophe had been a useful source of information from the start on that front, and she’d thanked luck for taking her to that New Years Eve party where she happened upon him smoking outside. She’d seen the family resemblance at once and spent the evening flirting with him, searching his mind for hints he could be useful to her as something beyond mere sustenance and amusement. His eyes revealed the connection to Marie, and his openness and bitterness toward both Vivienne and his grandmother were detectable and made him the perfect mark for her. He was her ticket in to the secret she’d searched for so long. She knew by befriending Christophe she would be able to get close to Marie without the other woman being aware she was being hunted.
Olivia had been living in New Orleans again for several months before finding Christophe, yet she presented herself as newly arrived and only in town for a short visit. She planted information with the hostess of the party that she was consulting with someone on a book project at UNO and she was staying at one of the local hotels in the Quarter with a bar downstairs. She knew after meeting her at the party Christophe would come looking for her, and she’d not been disappointed. The following evening, she met him at the bar. She walked in and sat down next to him as if she was expecting him, which she was. After a few drinks, they’d walked arm-in-arm through the less crowded streets, avoiding the throng on Bourbon. They’d made their way to Washington Square Park where he leaned in for a kiss. As she fed from him and he took from her the same haunting song she’d played on the piano at the party the night before filled his head.
He’d woken up as the sun was rising, burning off the fog from the night before. He was alone. She’d turned him and then left him to himself for a month before returning when he was desperate for help and yearning for wisdom about his newfound hunger and strength. He was on the hunt when she returned to him, following the commands of his tainted blood. Lisette found him for her; she’d played the victim well, and she’d led him to a taxi that took them to the house on Thalia—the house where Olivia had been all along. She’d opened the door as they walked up the steps together, Lisette releasing him to Olivia’s care and waiting until the door closed behind him before she took her leave, lest he realize that she was the one truly doing the hunting. He was so relieved to see Olivia again that Lisette was forgotten instantly. In his weakened and desperate state, he’d not been aware that Lisette was kindred. Her skill at cloaking her true identity kept him from sensing she was anything other than an ordinary, yet beautiful, woman.
Olivia struck a bargain with him that she would mentor him if he first showed his devotion to her by removing an obstacle for her—Tim Clark. Christophe did her bidding, despite his discomfort. Years of training in obedience to his grandmother had made him hesitant to take power. While he had no quarrel with Tim Clark, he knew he had to do this for Olivia and for himself.
In the end, he’d been richly rewarded. H once again felt that sweetness he felt the night in the park when Olivia made him a vampire as he drained the life out of Tim Clark. He also was rewarded with Olivia welcoming him into her bed for the first time. Even if he had not been deprived of her presence for months, he would have been powerless to refuse her anything after she’d wrapped herself around him and rewarded him for his allegiance.
Now, as they hunted together and she taught him new lessons he realized she truly needed him almost as much as he needed her. He was the only one who could get close enough to Marie to access the secret knowledge Olivia wanted so badly. Once he realized his mother had not been delusional in thinking her own mother was plotting to steal her life as her own, he realized the potential that knowledge held for him, as well. If he could break his grandmother’s power and take it for himself, he could be whoever he wanted to be.
Chapter Twenty Nine
Christophe proved to be a good student, and Olivia was glad she’d begun to teach and trust him. When Liz finally returned, Olivia trusted Christophe keep an eye on her. She explained her worries that Liz had been in Hattiesburg for so long she might be desperate to feed. “I don’t want her to feel manipulated, so I should keep my distance, at least in the beginning. Better to let her adjust to being back in New Orleans.” Christophe promised watch her and make sure she had the sustenance she needed without being reckless.
Christophe met Olivia outside The Ruby the night of Liz’s return. He’d taken his grandmother to Muriel’s for their Reveillon menu. She’d told him the story of the family connection to the building for the millionth time, and he’d been impatient to get through the meal and get her home so he could meet Olivia. Finally, here he was. As they stood outside, Christophe mentioned to Olivia that he’d seen Liz at the restaurant. Even with her back to Christophe, he could feel the physical pull toward her, the same pull and attraction he’d felt to the Others on Halloween, a affinity as strong as he’d felt toward Olivia the first time they’d met. Before Liz raised her glass in toast, she turned toward the door of The Ruby. As she did, he caught a flash of her green eyes. His breath caug
ht in his throat.
“I see that she’s developed her powers considerably since she’s been gone. I can see you can feel her presence much more sharply than before.” Olivia was pleased.
He nodded and slipped into the bar as she left him to his task of shadowing Liz and keeping her safe.
Christophe was glad that Olivia wanted him to watch over Liz by himself. Ever since realizing he was not the only one that Olivia had turned, he’d wanted to be around Others and now he was able to not only able to watch another vampire, but Liz was kindred in a way that Others were not. Olivia had cautioned him the attraction to Liz would be especially strong since Liz was now fully turned and because they shared Olivia in common. As he watched her celebrating her return and her new spot as co-owner of The Ruby he understood what Olivia meant. He’d noticed it in the restaurant earlier, a physical need to be close to her. He’d been close to walking over to her at that moment and introducing himself. His grandmother tugging on his sleeve and grumbling that she needed to get home had diverted him, though. He realized now that had she not stopped him he would have made the mistake of introducing himself to the very person he was supposed to be secretly watching.
Over the next few days, he tracked her from a distance; he still had to keep his grandmother happy, and he was afraid of getting too close to Liz in case she sensed something different about him now she was fully turned. He also worried he might lose control and blurt out who he was, who she was, and suggest they run away together.
A few days after Liz returned, Christophe was surprised to see his sister Vivienne and a few of her associates enter The Ruby in full ritual garb and with drums. He was glad his sister hadn’t asked him to drum for her that day. He sat outside at a nearby coffee shop, drinking coffee, listening to the drumming from inside the bar, wishing he could see what was going on and see what Liz was doing. When the drumming stopped, he’d retreated back into the coffee shop, worried his sister would see him.
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