by E G Bateman
Joseph chuckled and he guessed his Creole was a little off. “The kids are well, thank you for asking. But not kids anymore and not interested in the old ways. Their gods are technology and money. So, if not to pledge allegiance to one of the clans, what brings you to town?” He leaned back and it was obvious that the man was more relaxed there. The vampire wondered what magic was in the walls to make him so confident but decided he didn’t want to know.
“I’m visiting with a…for convenience, let’s call her a friend. She’s on a personal quest that has brought her to New Orleans and I offered to help.” He tried not to stray anywhere in the discussion that would require him to lie.
“And your questing friend, where is she?” Joseph looked dramatically around the small courtyard as though someone might suddenly appear.
“Around. The hotel or a restaurant maybe. Detaching the fingers of a pickpocket is a distinct possibility. Who knows?”
Joseph leaned forward and shook his staff. “My spirits tell me something is different about you, William Levine.”
Dick accepted the scrutiny for a few moments. Finally, he lifted his glass. “A new conditioner. I’m worth it.”
His companion laughed. They clinked glasses and drank.
Marcel went to Joseph and his stumpy tail wagged. He scratched the dog’s neck, then produced a treat. Dick couldn’t begin to guess where from.
The vampire nodded his appreciation of his drink before he returned to the subject at hand. “Who would you say is the more accommodating faction at the moment? I need a place to stay during the day.”
“Ah yes, I remember your home. It was beautiful. It is an outreach center for the homeless now. Have you seen it?”
“I’m glad they were able to put it to good use, but no. I wouldn’t like to see it so changed.” For a moment, he looked into the middle distance and envisioned his New Orleans home of years gone by.
“I wouldn’t suggest it’s safe to go to any clan right now. Almost all of them demand that visitors show fealty. They all watch too much television. If the first one you visit can’t help, you won’t be welcomed by the rest. They won’t talk to each other and they barely talk to me. Kindred is out of town and the clans talk about making grabs for power all over the place. You should go to the sanguinaires—the living blood drinkers. They’re trying to stay out of this spat.”
Dick was shocked. “Kindred is out of town? But why? I’ve never heard of such a thing. Are they on a team-building event?” He took a gulp of his whiskey. “Although it begs the question, how many Kindreds does it take to build a raft?”
“None,” Joseph supplied. “They’d make us do it.”
They laughed and clinked glasses again.
The man sniffed the air. “There is powerful, dark magic in the wind tonight, here and across the country.”
Dick stroked an eyebrow absently. “Are the sanguinaires still at the same place?”
“Of course. Whether living or undead, we are all creatures of habit.”
“I try not to be so predictable.” He was a little offended.
“Do you still have that giant trunk you always travelled with? And the silver lion’s head pin? You remain the only vampire I’ve ever heard of who wears silver.”
“I stand corrected.” He raised his eyebrows. “Apparently, I am predictable.”
Joseph looked at Marcel. “Not completely. I must say, I never expected to see you with a puppy.”
“He belonged to a friend who passed. We’ve found ourselves to be a surprisingly good fit.” He leaned down, picked Marcel up, and stood. “Well, I’ll say good evening, Joseph. Thank you for the drink and the information. Take care of yourself.”
“I don’t have to.” The man smiled.
The vampire laughed. “Yes, of course. You have your spirits.”
A breeze stirred the air in the courtyard and he breathed in the scent of the flowers. “Quite delightful.” He nodded to Joseph and left.
The two continued through the streets until finally, Marcel refused to walk. He turned to the puppy who sat immovably and yawned. “Are you tired, little guy?” He picked him up and held him close to his face. “We’re almost there.” Marcel licked his nose.
Dick crossed the street and entered a bar. It had been a few years since he’d been there, but he recognized a few faces. They looked wary, though, which gave him pause.
A tall man stood. “Is that you, William?” He crossed to him and unsurprisingly, stopped a short distance away. The vampire stared at him in surprise. This convention wasn’t usually followed by non-supernaturals, simply because there was no point. If any supernatural had ill-intentions toward this human, those few feet wouldn’t save him.
“Hello, Oberon. I’ve heard things are tense these days and wonder if I could have chosen a better time to visit.” He thought it best to clarify immediately that he wanted nothing to do with whatever the situation was between the clans.
His friend nodded at the message. “How can I help you?”
“I need a place to stay for a couple of nights. I’m with friends, but they can stay in a hotel.”
“Martine?” Oberon called to a woman who stood behind the bar and she looked at him. “Is 3b in the apartment building free?”
She lifted a large black book and dropped it onto the bar with a thud before she pulled a pair of glasses from her head and propped them on her nose. Once she’d opened the book, she ran a finger down the page, then closed it. “It’s free.” She put the glasses onto her head again.
The man nodded, paused, then asked, “How about 3a, on the front?”
The woman stared directly at him in evident disapproval as she opened the book again and settled the glasses onto her face. She ran her finger down the page. “Yup.” She made no effort to close it and simply stood and looked at him with exaggerated patience.
He stared in response.
Finally, she frowned. “What?”
Oberon put his hand out. “The keys?”
She rolled her eyes, lifted two keys from a shelf behind the bar, and handed them over.
The man looked at Marcel and grinned. “So, who’s this? May I?” He held his hand still until Dick nodded. Cautiously, he put the back of his hand out for the puppy to sniff, then stroked the animal’s head.
“This is Marcel. He’s one of my traveling companions.” He waved the tiny paw again and simply couldn’t explain why it gave him such delight to do that.
Oberon looked at him, his expression somber. “Be careful walking the streets, my friend. Kindred is out of town.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I heard. I’ve never known them to leave New Orleans unprotected. I can’t imagine what’s holding it all together right now.”
“It’s only been a few days but it’ll all hit the fan soon. We’re simply trying to keep our heads down.” The man shook his head.
Dick saw how worried he looked and knew he was right to be concerned. When things kicked off between supernaturals, it was often the humans who were caught in the middle. “Do you know why Kindred left? Where they’ve gone?”
“Apparently, some idiot opened a portal to a hell dimension in Palm Springs. Creatures have poured through for days—hundreds of them. Nasty buggers, it would seem.”
“Oh, that. Yes, I’m aware.” He wasn’t quite sure what else to say.
Oberon’s eyes narrowed. “Now that I think about it, isn’t Palm Springs your neck of the woods?”
The vampire smiled. “And now you know why Marcel and I have chosen to put a healthy distance between us and home.”
“It’s perfectly understandable.” The man handed the keys over.
Dick reached for his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”
“William, you insult me.” Oberon put a hand up.
Martine picked a pen up. “Obe, what do I put in the book?”
The man looked at the vampire with his eyebrows raised.
“Dick.”
The woman smirked. “Okay, and th
e other room?”
Oberon replied this time. “Marcel.”
She wrote the names and snapped the book closed.
“Do you have time for a drink?” he asked.
“I need to get Marcel to his basket. Would you like to meet for dinner tomorrow evening?”
“I’d love to, William. But a couple of the clans—at least those who can stand to be in the same room—are meeting for a parlay tomorrow night. They’ve chosen my establishment to host it.”
“What an honor,” Dick said with an eyebrow raised to emphasize the sarcasm.
“Quite. It’ll come to nothing, though. They’ll bluster for a couple of hours, drink my best whiskey, and leave disgruntled.” Oberon rolled his eyes. “Can I send a snack round?” He indicated two young women who donated blood to sanguinaires in the corner of the room.
“In public?” He raised a brow. Of course, he’d already been aware of the tang of blood in the air.
His friend laughed. “We’re human, my friend. Kindred leaves us alone.”
“Ahh. And no thank you. I’m fine. I dined early.” He had brought a few blood bags in his temperature-controlled box as he preferred to be personally acquainted with the source. For now, he didn’t want to risk it. The young ladies were probably in good health but one of the thugs who shot up his car in Palm Springs had given him an upset stomach for a couple of days. It wasn’t worth the risk.
Outside the bar, Dick checked his cell and was rewarded with the location of the oyster bar where Lexi, Scott, and Betsy were. He attempted to put Marcel down to walk but the puppy would have none of it. With a chuckle, he conceded defeat and held the dog in his arms as he made his way through the streets.
Chapter Thirty-One
Lexi sat with Scott and Betsy in the small oyster bar on Bourbon Street.
She glanced yet again at the other woman’s plunging neckline. “Where did you get those dresses?”
“I’ve been shopping on the Internet since Cabo. Everything was waiting when I arrived in the room.” Betsy looked at herself. “Although I’ll have to visit the stores tomorrow. This dress is a tight squeeze.”
“I noticed.” She raised an eyebrow.
The older woman’s gaze slid over her leathers. “How can you bear to wear all that hide? You must be melting.”
She sighed. In all honesty, she didn’t have an answer and she was melting. New Orleans was so much worse than Palm Springs had been. She gazed around the room, noted that there didn’t seem to be any supernaturals in sight, and decided to risk removing her jacket. “Is there anything you’d like to do while you’re here, Betsy?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve only been to New Orleans once, with Harv. We didn’t even visit the French Quarter. I stayed around the pool at the hotel for two days while he was at a conference, then we left.”
Scott sat up excitedly. “You’ll want to have a good look around while you’re here then. Maybe we could take a tour.”
The waiter appeared at the table and took their orders.
After he left, Betsy tutted. “Oh dear! I forgot to order one of those Hurricane cocktails everyone’s drinking.”
“I’ll get it.” Lexi stood and headed to the bar. She waited patiently at the busy counter for the drink and noticed that it became steadily louder thanks to a group of young men somewhere behind her. Finally, she took the drink, turned, and as she stepped away from the bar, bumped into someone.
A young man shook about a teaspoon of beer dramatically from his hand. “Hey—careful, stupid.” His friends went silent.
He looked at Lexi. “Oh, sorry. I mean, my fault.” At that moment, he looked like he might pee his pants.
Shit!
She didn’t respond but returned to the table as the group shuffled into the back of the bar.
Back at the table, she stood for a moment, perplexed by the two hurricane cocktails already in front of Betsy on the table.
“Oh, some kind young men at that table over there heard me mention the drink and dashed to the bar.” The woman gave a little finger wave to a group of three men at a nearby table who stared at her. Their thoughts were etched on their faces and it wasn’t a pretty sight.
Lexi raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s not creepy.”
Scott peered into the throng of people. “What’s wrong? I felt you getting irate.”
She signaled to him with a little twirl of her finger and he mirrored the motion as he muttered an incantation. He nodded that it was safe to speak.
“A few shifters saw my scar,” she said as she pulled her jacket on again and sat. “I should have been more careful. All they have to do is mention me to local Kindred and we’re in trouble.”
“We won’t be here long. Don’t worry about it.” Scott pulled the drink she brought closer to him. “I might as well have this. Betsy will be on the floor if she has all three.”
Lexi smiled. “Sure.”
The sorcerer looked like all his Christmases had come at once. He picked the drink up and turned to watch the people.
While he was distracted, she slipped her thumb up her sleeve and stroked the scar to activate its power. “I think these two should stay sober tonight,” she whispered.
Scott turned to her, having felt the discharge of magic. “What did—”
“Excuse me.”
She looked up in response to the nervous voice. It was the shifter again and he held another hurricane. “I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t sure if I’d spilled your drink too so I got you another one.” He held it out to her but she didn’t take it.
This guy’s so nervous, he’s making me nervous.
“It’s okay. It was my fault.”
“I thought you were all away, clearing a mess up in Palm Springs.” He left it hanging as though she might respond.
She didn’t and he looked even more anxious.
“Well, here you go, anyway.” He put the drink onto the table and stepped back.
“Thanks for the drink,” she replied dismissively.
When he’d moved away, Scott took his cellphone out.
“Are you messaging Dolores?” Lexi asked and he nodded. She took a sip of her drink, screwed her face up, and pushed it away. “That’s strong.”
“Do you think so? It seemed strong at first but it tastes like fruit juice now.” Betsy stirred her drink with the straw.
The sorcerer’s gaze slid to Lexi and he gave her a look of pure disappointment.
She focused on the shifters, who filed out of the bar with their heads low.
Betsy shook her head. “Lexi dear, you killed their buzz.”
“I didn’t mean to. But it explains why they were being so raucous. They thought there were no Kindred in town to keep an eye on them.”
Scott’s phone beeped, and he picked it up to read the screen. “Dolores got out before Kindred arrived. No one will remember us except Edward, and he’s out of Palm Springs too.” He continued to read. “Well, that’s interesting. No one remembers Caleb either.”
A dark look crossed Betsy’s face. Caleb had posed as a family friend and her husband’s business partner for years before he murdered her husband, then brainwashed and almost murdered her son. “He was a prominent member of Palm Springs society. How could everyone forget him? I know I never will.”
The sorcerer patted her hand. “They’ll remember there was someone but not the details. Dolores says she wasn’t responsible for that. It must have been part of how he manipulated everyone’s minds.”
The woman shook her head. “It seems impossible. He was a business owner. Who did all those people think they were employed by?”
“I have no idea. I’ll ask Dolores next time we speak.” He shrugged.
She looked at her cocktail and put her glass down, looking guilty. “Does she have any news about Todd?”
Scott smiled. “Yes. He’s getting there. The scars have all healed but they’re keeping him asleep while they repair his mind.”
Lexi brushed her scar discreetly
. Okay, she can get a little buzzed.
The food came and they talked casually.
Betsy finished her drink and banged her palms on the table. “Wow! That drink really hit me. Let’s dance.” She stood and whirled into Dick.
“William!” She slapped her hands onto his cheeks and planted a kiss on his lips before she hugged him. “You’ve always been my favorite homosexual.”
“Well, thank you. You’re too kind.” He examined her curiously. “Why Betsy, you’ve…grown.” He smiled and gave her another hug. Then, over her shoulder, he mouthed, “what have you done?” to the two young people.
Lexi shrugged. Regulating someone’s level of intoxication was harder than she thought, but she wasn’t sure that was what Dick was referring to.
Betsy stepped back and patted his face again. “Dick, I’m going to the powder room. Oh…do you mind if I call you Dick?”
He shrugged and raised his palms. “Everyone else does.”
“Dick, you must try the hurricane. It sneaks up on you and hits you between the eyes like a force-five.” She tottered to the back of the room in her tight black satin dress.
Lexi noted that the three men who had bought her the drinks watched her progress.
The vampire shook his head and sat. “Harv would be spinning in his grave.”
Scott put his arms out to Marcel and the other man passed him over for a little attention.
She turned to her friend and asked innocently, “Can you do anything to make her less drunk?”
He stared at her with his eyebrows almost at his hairline. “Gosh, what a good idea.”
Before she could retort, he closed his eyes and muttered inaudibly.
“So…” Dick leaned forward. “I’ve got us a couple of apartments in the Quarter. We can move there tonight. And you won’t believe what else I’ve heard—”
“That Kindred’s moved en masse to Palm Springs?” Lexi winked at him.
“Oh, you know.” He looked crestfallen. “How did you know?”
“I was careless and was seen by a pack of shifters. They saw the scar.”
Scott finished his drink with a slurp of the straw. “I thought we’d taken care of everything in Palm Springs.”