by G A Chase
He headed down to the lobby, wondering where he should start. The cold steel of his improvised walking cane reminded him how far he’d come. When time still mattered to him, he’d spent days focusing on the smallest tear to his shirt until he could see the individual broken threads. By pouring his energy into the break, he found the small tendrils could be coaxed back together by force of will. That tear in his shirt had been the hardest learning experience of his life. Once he’d accomplished that simple mind repair, however, the rest of his environment started obeying his commands like an attack dog that just needed to know who was boss.
Walking still involved leaning heavily on the mangled iron rod. His bones didn’t enjoy the same pliability as the cage he lived in. He could bend metal in his mental forges and bash it into shape with pile drivers but couldn’t fix his own living flesh.
The night air helped bring him out of his funk. He’d turned one of the most fearsome aspects of his incarceration into a blessing. “I may not be a vampire, but I am a creature of the night. Perpetual darkness is paradise.”
One by one, he’d faced his fears of hell and overcome each to the point that his environment respected him as its god. Turning loose the demons Delphine kept so cruelly isolated in their wooden sculptures had given him the army he’d desired and completed his mastery of hell.
Analyzing his rise to power only made the new feeling of weakness more infuriating. Without realizing it, he started walking toward the bank, stomping his cane hard against the brick sidewalk with every stride. He’d face the one adversary he truly understood, Baron Samedi. Though he’d had help in stealing the cane originally and had Baron Kriminel to thank for his position in Guinee, the fact remained that he’d bested one of the greatest loas of the dead. Even if the weakened spirit didn’t have answers, going up against him again would feel good. At the moment, that would be enough.
Colin only made it to the top step of the bank. Standing in the open doorway was the hated voodoo totem that had held him prisoner. The square-cut nails that covered the top of the wooden sculpture made his hair bristle. He squinted in hatred at the sewn-shut leather eyelids, mouth, and ears. “You no longer contain me.”
A snarl from behind him made him swing around. A four-foot-tall she-wolf crept menacingly up the marble steps. Her black-and-white markings blended so well into the shadows he wasn’t sure if she were animal or specter.
He raised his metal cane. “Back off. I’m the devil here, and you’re just a simple hell beast. You are under my command.”
But the creature continued to snarl and move closer. He could bash her with his cane, but he’d only get one shot. With his damaged leg, he was no match for an attack dog the size of a small bear. As he backed toward the bank entrance, he felt the pull of the voodoo totem. His soul was weakening.
“So that’s your play. Corner me, and you’ll see exactly what lengths I’ll go to in defending my position. Who’s commanding you?”
“I just wanted you to see that your reality can be much worse than you imagine.”
He recognized the woman’s voice even though he’d only met her once. Colin aimed his cane at the she-wolf and half turned toward the young swamp witch standing inside the bank. “You. I should have known. That little witch and her idiot boyfriend wouldn’t have the imagination to confront me, but as the old swamp witch bat’s granddaughter, you feel right at home here. Call off your dog.”
“She’s not my dog. Honestly, I don’t even know what she’s doing here. All I wanted to do was frighten you with this little rodent trap. Between Kendell and Baron Samedi, we figured out how to open it again. It would appear this hell has its own breed of animal protectors.”
He’d investigated his surroundings enough to know animals weren’t uncommon, but the largest he’d run into in the city were the nutria river rats. The wolf circled around to the top of the stairs and took up an attack stance next to Sanguine. The red eyes and sharp white teeth made it clear the animal was looking for an excuse to attack.
“Hello, girl.” Baron Samedi stepped out of the shadows and rubbed the evil incarnation’s rear haunches.
Instead of ripping the loa’s arm out by its socket, the she-wolf gave up her attack stance and wagged her tail at the greeting.
“So she’s yours. I had no idea loas of the dead kept pets.” Colin didn’t like surprises, especially not in his realm.
“I wouldn’t want to ruin the revelation for you. There’s so little about this world that astonishes anymore. I think if you check on your little flame children, you’ll find this creature has more power than you suspect. Now, run along and play. You’re no longer welcome at the seventh gate.”
As he walked away from the bank, Colin couldn’t remember the last time someone had sent him packing. Though he could justify the encounter as a standoff, he had to admit that he’d lost. They hadn’t taken anything from him, and his situation hadn’t changed from when he’d walked out of his office. Still, for the first time, he was at a strategic disadvantage.
He didn’t so much fear what he’d see in Delphine’s shop as grow determined to let out his anger should his demons have failed in their task of tormenting Myles. It took a true sadist to continually find new areas of weakness in his victims while keeping them conscious and alive. In all likelihood, the she-wolf had ripped the bartender to shreds at seeing his vulnerability. Still, Colin’s wraiths should have found a way to stop her. Their job wasn’t simply to play with the fool.
“Oh well. Even if he is dead, I’ll find some other way to influence that little witchy girl. I do still have her bandmates.” The four women who made up the band that gave the little guitarist’s life meaning had to be more important than a lovey-dovey romantic partner.
He stood stock-still in the doorway to Scratch and Sniff. “You let him escape!” Every blood cell in his body felt as if it were about to boil.
His attention progressed from the bare wood floor to the glowing totems along the walls. “For the love of hell. You are demon wraiths, not fireflies. One little doggy comes into your dungeon, and you lose all your intensity?”
He’d only spent a few months trapped in the voodoo totem and then had been released into another human being. The demons that huddled behind their wooden entrapments had been incarcerated for so long the spells used weren’t even known any longer. They’d become the proverbial prisoners who’d served so many years they refused to leave when freed.
Though he understood the syndrome, he had no patience for his demons.
10
The excitement of having freed her band, combined with having Myles at her side, drove Kendell to want to search for Cheesecake. “She wouldn’t have sent her puppies over here alone. There are only a couple of places she could be.”
Myles pointed down Frenchmen Street. “Like escorting Sanguine back to the band?”
Though others had described Cheesecake-the-she-wolf to Kendell, in every other realm, all she’d seen was her precious pup. The intimidating animal that walked at Sanguine’s side could have been any number of mythical beasts.
As the creature broke into a run, Kendell saw the love in the dog’s eyes. The embrace knocked her to the ground. “Easy, girl. You’re bigger than you think.”
The three much smaller and leaner hellhounds yipped for joy at seeing their mother return to the pack. Cheesecake gave Kendell one last kiss before turning to her brood. Their play reminded Kendell of the small dogs having so much fun on the other side of the river. In their hell-demon personas they looked as if they were devouring some animal three times their size.
Sanguine helped Kendell to her feet. “She did good. Honestly, I didn’t even know it was Cheesecake until she started pulling on my shirt to follow her.”
Though Kendell was relieved to see her pup safe and sound, there was still work to do. “Did Baron Samedi have any luck with the cane?”
“No. With that golden pick of yours, he was able to open the voodoo totem. Scared the shit out of Colin, or
rather the Malveaux side of him. I guess being locked in complete blackness wasn’t enjoyable for him. Cheesecake nearly made him wet his pants when she started forcing him toward the doll.”
Myles couldn’t take five steps without Doughnut Hole coming to his side. “The same happened when Hell Hole saved me. The wraiths were none too happy about returning to their cages.”
Kendell looked over at her bandmates who, though still hesitant to approach the animals, were giving warm words of praise to the frightening hellhounds. “We have some definite advantages, but all we’ve accomplished is getting the cane from Colin. It still doesn’t work in this realm. The walls of this jail are still weak, and Samedi is still trapped.”
Sanguine kicked at the curb. The little-girl act made Kendell suspect she wasn’t going to like what the young swamp witch was about to report. “I’m afraid Samedi wasn’t very helpful when it came to his cane. He agreed we need to stick the silver skull back on, but he didn’t know anything about the spell Marie Laveau cast.”
Kendell nodded. “Delphine knew at some point we’d need to contact the land of the living. We couldn’t risk having Marie’s diary and the cane both in this realm. She said we’d need to find the portal from hell to life. We know the seventh gate is the door from hell to Guinee, so that’s not it.”
Sanguine cocked her head to the side as if an idea needed to roll down her brain to in front of her eyes. “I read something in Colin’s office. He met a version of his daughter, Serephine, in the Laurette mansion.”
Kendell stared hard at the girl. “You didn’t think that was important?”
She shrugged. “You were getting all hot and bothered about digging that totem out of the marble floor. I didn’t think we had time to discuss our findings.”
Kendell turned to Myles. “As the first victim, Serephine would be connected to the curse. She might be willing to help. Though it’s not our reality, at least it might be a place to start.”
He rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “She was the first victim, but her brother was the first to stand guard against their father’s evil. Even though she was the one to talk to Colin, maybe it was Antoine who opened the door. Either way, the Laurette mansion seems like the most obvious portal.”
Sanguine leaned against the side of the van and bit her lip. “To remove the skull, we needed Delphine de Galpion to read from Marie’s journal while Kendell and I perform our magic. I’d guess putting it back on will also require the three of us.”
Kendell remembered all too well how Colin had sat in the living room like a despot expecting to be crowned king while they tried to power up his scepter like a bunch of mystical nymphs. “Going to the mansion would only alert Colin, and taking the cane and skull to the house seems like a good way to lose it all to our adversary. Maybe if we free Samedi, he could zap it over to her or something.”
Sanguine shook her head. “No go. The one thing he did say was Marie’s bones are holding the cane to this reality. Its powers may not work here, and we can’t grab it, but she’s preventing Baron Samedi from taking it as well.”
“Peachy,” Kendell said. “Anything else you think isn’t important?”
“You asked if we made any progress. We didn’t. Don’t get mad at me just because I answered your questions.”
“Enough,” Myles said. “Sanguine, take everyone and the silver skull back to the bank. It’s the one place we know is safe. Kendell and I will figure out how to contact Delphine. We need to know what we’re doing before we go off half-cocked.”
Cheesecake sat at Kendell’s side as the women loaded into the VW for the short ride. The puppies looked from their mother to the bus. She jutted her snout toward the van and gave them a firm bark. Muffin Top and Cupcake quickly obliged and climbed into the vehicle, but Doughnut Hole lay on the ground, whimpering, as he looked from Cheesecake to Myles.
Though it was Cheesecake’s place to direct her unruly son, Myles walked over to the reluctant hellhound and knelt down to his level. “I’ll be okay, boy. Go protect the women.”
Cheesecake let out a much more definitive bark, one that said she meant business. The pup got up and slinked to the open van door.
The scene tugged at Kendell’s heart. “In case you missed it, that dog has chosen you as his human. I recognize the signs. Cheesecake was the same way when we first met. She wouldn’t leave my side.”
“I just hope our apartment will allow two dogs.”
It warmed Kendell’s heart knowing Doughnut Hole would be permanently joining their little family. “Now, how do we contact Antoine? I suppose we could ransack the Laurette mansion, looking for some Civil War item hidden in what’s left of the walls.”
Myles had the worried look he often got when considering an idea she wouldn’t like. “I’m not connected to the deep waters, so taking a psychometric trip won’t work. We need a more direct connection—something Antoine would respond to without being called from the beyond.”
Kendell remembered every item they’d found while investigating Fleurentine Malveaux’s trunks. “We have to go to Minerva’s garage in the Bywater.”
Cheesecake trotted along beside them as they strolled through the Marigny to the Bywater like a couple of tourists out to see the historic yet bohemian neighborhood. The old shotgun double painted in bright shades of blue, yellow, and purple didn’t quite look complete without the VW bus parked out back.
Kendell found the key hidden under the drain pipe and worked the uneven garage door off the ground. Its hinges creaked as though they didn’t have many more openings left in them.
Myles gave the neighborhood one good look before joining her in the cluttered storage space. “I guess the bus doesn’t spend much time in here.”
She pointed to the door, which hung at an angle on its hinges. “It wouldn’t fit through there. Give me a hand moving some of these boxes. I told Minerva to bury Fleurentine Malveaux’s trunks in case anyone was looking for them. Apparently, she took me a little more literally than I expected.”
The heavy steamer trunks weren’t hard to distinguish from the cardboard boxes and suitcases, but Kendell and Myles had to pull four of the five out before she found the trunk filled with old gowns.
“I stashed her keepsakes at the bottom of this one.” Kendell pulled out a worn leather memory album and turned to the last page. “I thought this was creepy as hell when I first saw it—enough so that I did a little investigating. Art made from the hair of loved ones was still popular during the Civil War.” Carefully, she removed the wire-frame flower covered in shades of blond hair.
“I’ve heard of mothers keeping locks of their infants’ hair, but nothing like this.”
She turned it slowly in the dim light. “It’s not just from Antoine as a child. People used to collect hair over a person’s lifetime. See how only the center is soft and how it gets bristlier and darker as the petals move outward?”
From Myles’s expression, she could tell that he felt the way she first had—a combination of curious and disgusted. “You’ve made your point. If Antoine’s going to respond to anything, it’d be a piece of art made by his mother out of his own hair.”
“Now that we have the item, how do we call him?”
He took the small three-dimensional flower and turned it slowly. “I can’t access the deep waters, but I am getting enough of an emotional reading to think I can contact him directly. We can try my usual approach and see what happens. So long as it’s just Antoine we’re trying to reach, Colin shouldn’t be able to butt in.”
She grabbed an old army duffle bag covered in travel patches. “This belonged to Minerva’s grandfather. We found it stashed behind the seats when we cleaned out the VW. He used to do a lot of traveling.”
Down feathers erupted from the canvas sack as she pulled out a moth-eaten sleeping bag. “This should at least keep us off the wet concrete.”
“So long as the old dude didn’t have too many adventures in that thing,” Myles joked. “I’d hate to end up
watching Minerva’s grandparents getting it on at some free-love commune.”
“We’ll just be a couple of hippies lying under the stars, contemplating our flower.”
Once in position, Myles gave her his usual list of warnings. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. We’re not in our reality with time moving forward. I’ve only done this when I knew how to get back to my body.”
She hugged his arm tightly to her side. “We’ll be together. You’ll get us home. And I have Cheesecake to focus on.”
She did her best to mirror his ritual of letting go of his life one aspect at a time until they were pure spirits without memories, names, or bodies. Kendell hadn’t reached the soul-bonding closeness with Myles when she heard a man’s voice coming from the open garage door. “So you’ve found me. What do you want?”
She looked at Myles in confusion. Other trips they’d taken had been purely mental, but this time, every sensation of her body—down to the prickly thorns in her back from some long-dead weed that the sleeping bag had covered—was as clear as when she’d lain down.
Antoine seemed to understand her confusion. “Think of our connections to that hair like the old-fashioned child’s game of telephone—two tin cans and a string. Only instead of traversing a distance, it’s across dimensions.”
Myles sat up. “So you’re the gatekeeper between life and hell?”
The man half turned toward the night sky. His profile reminded Kendell of an old daguerreotype of a former Civil War soldier. Moonlight filtered through his long wiry beard. Lines were etched in his face. The sorrow in his eyes struck deep into her soul.
“My father believed in voodoo. His fascination with it led to the curse. As you might imagine, such a pursuit didn’t hold any appeal for me. However, I saw enough during the war to know there was more to reality than life and death. I was an old man when I met Agnes Delarosa. She promised me a way of containing not just my father’s spirit but also the evil he’d created. I have to say, I expected better.”