Aiyanna immediately went to Mary, and Raphael gripped him hard by the arm. “What, exactly, do you think you’re playing at?” he said so quietly, Cael hardly heard him over the den of the crowd. Aiyanna wouldn’t have heard a word.
Before he could respond, Aiyanna was in front of him, taking her drink. He finally took a sip of his, enjoying the burn of the vodka moving down his throat. It was all he could do not to down the entire thing then and there.
“Where’s everyone else?” she asked, watching for the fire trucks that usually began a parade. She stood on the tips of her toes. She wasn’t short by any means, but some of the men and woman milling in the street were much taller than her, blocking her view.
His view of her ass only got better. Instead of groaning in frustration, he took a long sip of his drink.
“Briony and Sebastian are saving their energy for tonight,” Mary answered. “And Heath and Sophia are working on some kind of spell with the coven that should at least alert us if warlocks are trying to enter the firehouse. Leila…”
She trailed off, her gaze moving to the ground.
“Leila’s not coming,” Raphael finished for her. He wrapped an arm around Mary and murmured a few words in her ear that, at the very least, dried up the unshed tears welling in her eyes.
Cael felt for Mary, but he wasn’t as sympathetic for her as he was Leila. Of course Leila hadn’t told her sister she was dead—both of their parents had died that same night, taking away their last remaining family members. All they had was each other. How could Mary blame Leila for lying about yet another stolen life? She’d only tried to protect her sister. He’d never had any siblings, but he knew he would have done the same thing for them.
Besides, Mary was keeping an even worse secret from Leila. Alexandre wasn’t dead, as Mary and Raphael had told her. Given, they’d only lied as a part of a deal they made with him, one that allowed them a few more months before the warlocks would attack. Without the agreement, they would have had no time to prepare themselves for whatever the warlocks threw their way.
When it came to warlocks, preparation was key. Those creatures had almost unlimited abilities since they forwent the rules most witches followed, rules that kept others safe and morals guarded. They could do anything, which was why their pack had to gather their forces.
It was why Cael needed his powers back.
While he knew the logic behind Raphael and Mary’s decision to keep Leila in the dark—if they didn’t, Alex would bring the full wrath of the warlocks upon them all—he didn’t think he could have done it, were she his sister. Over the months since she’d become part of the pack, he’d begun to think of her as such.
Now she avoided the firehouse, and on the rare occasion when she did come by, Cael stayed away from her. He had no problem with keeping secrets, but lying to a young woman about the man she loved, making her believe a living man was dead? It made his skin crawl. How had his pack sunk this low?
“Well, bully for all of them, and more goodies for me.” Aiyanna spoke over the sounds of a high school marching band drawing nearer. Soon they didn’t attempt conversation anymore, their focus on themed floats, men on horseback and dancers flinging themselves across the asphalt while massive speakers trailed behind them in trucks and vans.
A set of beads was thrown to Aiyanna with heavy medallion proclaiming, Tucks in the Hood attached to the end. Laughing, she lowered them over Cael’s neck, the heavy plastic settling against his chest.
Everyone caught beads, but Mary and Aiyanna racked up the most. True to Aiyanna’s earlier warning, Cael caught a green plunger before it could hit her in the forehead. She hadn’t seen it coming—she was looking back, past the marching band that was about to walk by, at a float with a giant toilet at its front. For the first time in an hour, she frowned.
“What’s wrong?” Cael asked, letting his lips touch the shell of her ear.
She shivered. “Do you smell that? There’s blood somewhere.”
There were so many warring smells in the air, he was surprised she could pick one out among the others. People’s individual chemistry and sweat were the most obvious, followed by that of food, drinks, and the scent of plastic. But underneath it all, almost as if someone had covered it up, was the coppery tang of blood.
If not for her, he wouldn’t have noticed it at all.
“I can smell it too.” He looked around. It wasn’t uncommon for people to get hurt—on accident or as the result of a crime—during parades, but they were in a very safe part of town, and there was no one panicking near them. Had someone been seriously injured, they would be easy to spot. “Maybe someone was hit in the head, or they cut themselves somehow,” Cael offered. He couldn’t tell how much blood there was, only that it was there, somewhere.
Aiyanna shook her head. “There’s too much for this to be an accident. People are dead, and I think they’re on that float.”
“Are you certain?” Raphael watched the float slowly move toward them, his mouth a grim line.
The smell of blood was becoming more potent the closer the it came to them. Now it was less than a block away, and moving closer more rapidly now that the band had finished their short piece.
“I’m positive.” All the excitement Cael had watched Aiyanna accumulate since they got here disappeared, leaving anger and concern in its wake. Without knowing what happened, he wanted to hurt whoever put this expression on her face simply because they’d ruined what had been turning into a good day for her.
With him complicating her life, he wanted Aiyanna to have as many days like this as she could, preferably untainted by violence.
“In that case, let’s get on that float.” Mary’s anticipation was clear. Despite the circumstances, her eyes were alight. Her shoulders slumped forward slightly when she noticed the three of them staring at her. “What? I’ve always wanted to be on a float.”
Aiyanna laughed. “Here’s your chance, screamer.”
With the parade moving, they stepped as close as they could to the curb without someone asking them to move back. The band finally passed, leaving a few flambeaux men before the float reached their group. As luck would have it, the float stopped entirely before it could pass.
This was their chance to get on.
It was difficult to maneuver through the crowd, most of whom were now flooding into the street, their hands raised to catch what was thrown from the float. These humans were innocent, and many of the adults were either watching children closely or had a child up on their shoulders, lifting them almost to eye level with the men on the float.
Cael really hoped those on the float were human. This far away, with so much chaos in such a small space, he couldn’t smell what they were, and the full-face masks, hats and gloves they wore revealed nothing of their features. Nor did the show much of any skin.
Raphael reached the float first. He nodded up above his head, where the enormous, paper mache toilet loomed. Those on the float didn’t notice them at all—they were too busy watching the humans waving and yelling, demanding their attention. There was a significant gap between the nearest person, who was throwing out plastic toys almost drunkenly, and the toilet itself, which was situated directly behind the trailer hitch attaching the float to the tractor pulling it.
If Cael could step on that hitch and grab onto the side of the float, he could pull himself inside. From where he stood, he’d likely tear the plaster away if he tried to climb over the multicolored wall. “I’ll go in first if you’ll help Mary and Aiyanna in.”
The women were much shorter than Raphael and he; although, Aiyanna could have gotten inside on her own if she changed into her panther form. But it was daylight, and though many of those around them were drinking, they couldn’t risk a large group of humans seeing an enormous panther leaping onto a Tucks float. The thought almost made Cael smile.
It didn’t take much effort for him to get inside. He jumped as high as he could off of the trailer hitc
h, allowing him to grip the edge of the float and fling himself over. No one saw him, but his relief was short lived, ending as soon as his feet touched the floor.
It was soft. Too soft to be the wood that laid underneath whatever he stood on.
He was standing on a human body. Gingerly, he planted his feet on either side of the man and leaned down to feel for a pulse. He was dead. As the float jerked to move forward, the man’s head lolled, revealing two spots of red on his neck.
Cursing, Cael put his hand on the holes, marks exactly like the ones he’d seen last night. Injuries the vampires had so badly wanted Aiyanna to heal.
Before the float began moving at its full speed—which was still very, very slow—Mary, Aiyanna and Raphael landed next to him.
“The killers are vampires,” Cael said in a low voice. He gestured to the human’s neck, and the disgust mirrored on his friends’ faces.
“Why would they go through all that effort to get me to heal their humans if they were capable of doing this? It doesn’t make sense.” Aiyanna’s eyes widened, horrified, and her lips turned down. She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“This isn’t a coincidence,” Raphael muttered. “Even if these aren’t the same vampires we met, they’ll be involved with each other.”
Cael agreed. Coincidence was an optimistic term used by those blinded by fear. It made him think of Occam’s Razor, a principle he’d learned from reading philosophy books at that high school were his pack volunteered. It had burned down not long ago and hadn’t been rebuilt yet, but Cael made sure they had classical philosophy texts available for the students, while Heath had been more concerned with math books.
With Occam’s Razor, things were what they seemed to be. Right now, it seemed one group of vampires had come with either an expansion of that group, or another one entirely. This many bloodsuckers didn’t just travel to New Orleans at once by way of Fate, especially not after the impression Cael had made on the last ones who’d lived in the city.
“He sees us,” Mary whispered, pointing to a masked man openly staring at them. The vampire murmured something to the man standing next to him, and both threw whatever was in their hands into the crowd before they stalked toward Cael’s group.
The two vampires moved slowly, glancing at the floor as they went. Cael’s stomach lurched. How many humans had been killed?
He thought about how many humans were on a typical float, and the truth sank in. That many. This was a large float, and could fit over two dozen people. Now they were all dead, likely strewn on the floor like the man they’d already found. Hopefully there weren’t as many vampires aboard. If there were, Cael, Raphael, Mary and Aiyanna were vastly outnumbered.
When the men drew closer, Cael realized the boon that might save them all: vampires couldn’t handle the sun. Now he could see the skin around their eyes and mouths behind their masks. It was pink, despite the relative shade of the two-story float and their hats, which had flaps that came down to cover their ears and necks.
“Go for their masks,” Cael commanded. “Let them burn.”
“No.” Raphael put himself between Cael and the vampires. “The humans will notice, and we’ll be thrown into prison. They’ll think we poured some sort of acid on them.”
Cael hoped that’s what the vampires looked like when they were done with them. No less than what they deserved for murdering humans.
“They could be armed,” Aiyanna snapped. “And there are more of them than us. I already counted a dozen, and I didn’t have a chance to see how many were in the other corner of this contraption.” She leveled her gaze with the vampires who’d lurked closer. “If we go to jail, I can get us out.”
Mary moved first, lunging at the vampire on the right, between his friend and the center of the float. She took his mask away with one pull, exposing his face to the sun.
Instantly, he started to burn, smoke rising from his face and concealing the damage. Raphael jerked him down, out of the human onlookers’ sights.
The other vampire bared his fangs behind his mask. “We’ll kill you all,” he shouted. When he raised his gloved hand, there was a wicked-looking dagger in it. Aiyanna intervened before the knife it hit Mary. She released her long claws, slashing into the man’s right hand. He dropped his weapon, and she wasted no time de-masking him like Mary had his friend.
The smoke from the two vampires was more than enough for humans to notice. The human tractor driver turned around and stared, scratching his bald head with one hand. “Is everything okay?” he asked.
Apparently, he wasn’t all too concerned with a group definitely not dressed as they should be on the float.
“Fine!” Aiyanna shouted back. “Bozo here decided to put out his cigarette in the wrong place, that’s all.” She shrugged and elbowed Cael.
He rolled his eyes. “I’ve never touched that shit in my life.”
She kept smiling at the tractor driver until he finally faced forward again. “It’s a good thing, too, if you want to keep kissing on me.”
Raphael and Mary both glanced at them in shock, but they didn’t have time to discuss his and Aiyanna’s recent developments. The vampires were beginning to notice the smoke too—and given what they were, they knew the smell of their kind burning to death.
Aiyanna took her phone out, pressed a few buttons and lifted it to her ear.
“Keep them away from me until I’m finished with this call?” she asked when it started to ring.
He nodded, but not before he shot her a dry look that read, like I wouldn’t protect you if you needed it. She didn’t have to ask such things.
Suspecting that she spoke with the local shapeshifters who were high up in the New Orleans Police Department, he stood in front of her while Raphael and Mary ventured farther down the float, on the side where they would be much more noticeable to humans: where the vampires were throwing beads.
No one bothered them while Aiyanna spoke quickly, in a hushed tone, to at least two different people.
“Vale and Katarina should be here in—” There was a decisive thump over their heads. “Now. Wow, Vale’s really good at that.”
Transporting to someone’s house was one thing. Landing on a moving float was quite another. If Heath had attempted the like, Cael felt certain he would have wound up underneath a tire.
Relieved they had backup, he led Aiyanna to where Raphael and Mary currently fought four vampires. It was tricky work. Raphael could easily pull the mask from the man’s face, but then he would burn before the humans’ eyes. And they were already getting angry—nothing was being thrown from this part of the float, and the crowd had noticed.
Aiyanna caught on immediately.
“I’ll throw stuff if you help Raphael and Mary.”
She bent down and opened a box filled with large cups that read, Size Matters, and began to throw them to outstretched human hands.
Cael spared one more glance at her, making sure no one was sneaking up behind her, before he focused on Mary and Raphael.
“Vale and Katarina are above us,” he told Mary quietly. If she used her voice on the vampires, she’d have to be aware of those she didn’t want to hurt.
Mary nodded, her expression strained. She couldn’t move her feet, as they were stuck in between two human bodies. One of the men still had his drink under his hand. Even though they were already dead, she obviously didn’t wish to do them any further harm.
Raphael pulled a mask off one of the men who was now facing away from the crowd. Cael kicked the legs out from under him, doing the same to another vampire so Mary could grab that mask, too.
“Put them on, and move to the other side.” Cael turned to check on Aiyanna and gestured to the side of the float facing the neutral ground, where the streetcar normally rode. “I’ll take care of them.”
Neither of the vampires before them was armed. Raphael and Mary pushed between them without much effort; although, one of the men did manage
to tear the back of Mary’s shirt.
Raphael promptly turned and decked him in the face, earning himself a gasp from a few humans who saw.
When the vampire fell—a little too easily—Cael took his mask off and let the sun finish the job for him. It took even less effort, if that was possible, to kill the other man, a scrawny vampire who appeared barely conscious to begin with.
“Vampires aren’t this weak,” he murmured, puzzled.
“They’re drunk,” Aiyanna said. Her lips were pursed, but one edge tilted up, like she thought their disadvantage was the result of karma. That was what Cael figured, anyway.
“Most of the time, the float riders are borderline hammered. These men were no exception.” She swept her hand forward, indicating not only the dead bodies, but the emptied bottles, cans and cups scattered across the floor alongside them. “The vampires gorged on them. Initially, there were more humans than creatures here.”
“These vampires weakened themselves.” Careless.
Aiyanna met his eyes and nodded.
It boded well for his group. They needed to get rid of these vampires, but not at any of his friends’ expense. Now, he was more than confident all of them would leave this parade in one piece.
Then they could get to the bottom of this vampire problem. So far, he hadn’t recognized any of the men he’d unmasked—and had been surprised at the lack of women. In this parade, those on the floats were generally men, but the vampires had no reason to be an all-male group.
A male voice called, “Throw us something,” to the cheers and yells of those around them. Cael hoped the parade kept moving; if it stopped, people would really begin to notice the strange personnel aboard the float.
The crowd in mind, he and Aiyanna wound around to the other side of the float. Raphael and Mary had things covered. While Raphael engaged with their last vampire, Mary surreptitiously tossed a stuffed Friar Tuck.
The first story covered, that left the slightly smaller top level. He hoped Vale and Katarina weren’t having any problems up there, and the vampires they fought were just as drunk as their friends had been.
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