Sophie guided me through the creation of my new wardrobe. I was delighted to learn that Andre had been correct and corsets had gone out of fashion a hundred years before. Despite the fact I did not need to breathe, I hated the things. They dug in at the most uncomfortable places. I was not as delighted by the scandalous rise in hemlines, and I had no idea how I felt about women wearing britches. Waving away my discomfort with the idea, Sophie persuaded me to buy several pairs of dress trousers and jeans.
When I asked how our shopping trip had been arranged, Sophie told me some of the stores were owned and operated by vampires, while others were managed by human servants who would explain our presence as ‘rich eccentrics.’ I was unfamiliar with the current value of the dollar, but she indicated that we were spending enough that human owners were more than willing to ignore the abnormalities of two women shopping after midnight. I worried briefly that I might be spending too much of Andre’s money, but Sophie quelled my fears. “Andre is rich as Croesus.”
I had been a wealthy widow with business concerns throughout New Orleans at the time of my disappearance in 1797—perhaps some of that money remained. Andre would certainly know. I hated being beholden to him. I would ask him when I returned home, but I did not wish to dwell on it now.
I took full advantage of every private moment the sales people gave us to quiz Sophie about what I had missed during my long torpor. I had many, many questions, and she made it her task not only to find me a suitable wardrobe, but also to fill in as many gaps in my knowledge that she could in the few hours we had. Even though I received quite an education from her, it was never overwhelming, nor did it seem like work for either of us. We discussed everything from fashion to art to modern technology. Sophie promised to send me several history books so that I could read about the human political events of the previous two centuries. We stayed away from vampire politics because that was something best discussed in private, but Sophie promised to answer any questions that Andre did not. I had the feeling that Sophie would be providing the bulk of my information.
We had a wonderful time. When Sophie laughed, it was with me, not at me, as Andre had done. I was concerned with how much things had changed since 1797. I realized that I would need many more evenings such as this before I could function successfully in modern society.
THE HOUSE WAS empty when I arrived home. I took my numerous parcels to the master bedroom and began to put away my new clothes. The closets and wardrobe were bursting with Andre’s things and finding room for my new garments took a good bit of rearranging. I shifted some of what I expected were his lesser worn items to the spare room and hoped he wouldn’t be too angry.
Andre was still not home a few hours later when I finished, so I took the opportunity to explore the house and see what architectural and decorating havoc Andre had wreaked. I hoped that in my post-torpor, magically drained state I had inflated the horror of things the previous night. I found I had not. As I wandered the rooms, I became more and more dismayed. Just as I’d thought during Andre’s tour, nothing original remained. The only things of mine had been consigned to the back bedroom and forgotten. What I could not understand was why Andre was living here. He had his own house, or at least he used to. It was a snug cottage down the street from the Ursuline Convent and nearly as large as my own home. Perhaps he did not actually live here but was staying only until I was ready to live on my own. This house did not feel lived in, but then, Andre’s house never did.
As I walked through the house, I began planning how to reclaim it. That process would be difficult and delicate. The first thing that was needed was to ascertain if this was Andre’s primary residence or not. If it was, I might be forced to suffer the garish environment for quite a while as any changes would need to be small and piecemeal. However, if Andre still had his home, or another nearby, I could get away with much more. Andre and I had always had a difference in decorative tastes, but my long absence seemed to have widened the chasm.
I continued my trek and found myself in the wine cellar, and chose a bottle of Merlot from one of the racks. Back in the kitchen I found a corkscrew and opened the bottle. Pouring a glass, I realized that I had better find out when the next full moon was. I might not have much time to memorize the werewolf spell.
I took my wine and walked to the library for further exploration. Andre had said that he still had my old grimoires, but I did not see them on the shelves. Sipping my wine, I perused the titles. There was row upon row of pristine leather spines. Out of curiosity, I pulled a book at random from the shelf. As I expected, the pages had not been cut. I pulled out several other volumes and found each in the same condition. I put them back where I had found them.
There was a massive corner cabinet that I had not noticed earlier, but now I knew why. It was an Aether cabinet designed to hold magic books and items in and keep the uninitiated out. The piece of furniture was itself enchanted and heavily warded. While not invisible, it was magicked in such a way that with a casual glance almost no one would notice it. Even with close scrutiny, some non-magical people would be unable to see it.
The cabinet was sturdy oak with an ebony veneer. The four doors had marquetry of fleur-de-lis outlined in gold and ivory handles. I took a sip of wine and set the glass on the desk. The closer I got to the cabinet, the stronger tingle of magic I felt. Pricking my index finger with a fang, I touched the blood to the door while murmuring, “Belle marquise, vos beux yeux me font mourir d’amour.” I felt the ward drop. I was surprised that Andre had not changed his enchantment phrase in all these years. That was a dangerous thing not to do. It was also very sloppy magic.
In the top portion of the cabinet, I found my old athame as well as an assortment of other ritual implements. In the bottom, I found my grimoires as well as many other magical tomes. There was also a current almanac. I took one of the slightly worse-for-wear books and the almanac back to the large desk and settled into the surprisingly comfortable chair. Thinking that it might be the only comfortable chair in the house, I began to search the pages for the full moon data. It was scheduled for Thursday and it was already Monday. I pulled my tattered grimoire to me and found the ritual I was to perform on Chris Gautier. I spent a great deal of time memorizing the incantations and drawing the runes needed, pausing only to occasionally refill my wine glass.
I was deep in meditation when Andre arrived home. I vaguely heard the voice on the alarm speak but ignored it. This ritual took my complete concentration. One mistake and it would cost not just my life, but Chris Gautier’s as well. Even once the wolf spirit was defeated, the rune markings had to be exact.
When I finished my run-through, I looked up to see Andre leaning against the door frame. “I see you found your grimoires,” he said.
“Yes, thank you for setting the ward to something I would remember.”
He nodded vaguely, then said, “Come, let me refill your wine and you can tell me about your evening.”
“Alright,” I replied, standing. Andre retrieved my wine glass and took it into the kitchen while I replaced the grimoire in the cabinet and re-warded it. He met me coming through the kitchen door.
“Why don’t we sit on the loggia? It is a lovely evening,” Andre suggested.
Taking my wine, I followed him outside. Andre sprawled in his accustomed seat while I perched on the low sofa. It was then I realized that Andre sat in the one comfortable seat out here. The desk chair had been surprisingly cozy, and I would bet there was a single place in the living room that was not torture to sit on. Leave it to Andre to make sure his guests were uncomfortable so he could have the upper hand. Perhaps that was the real reason for the lewd dining room mural—to put any visitor ill at ease.
“How was your shopping?” Andre asked.
“Enlightening. Fashion has changed a great deal. That reminds me, I need to return your credit card. I tried not to spend too much,” I said, beginning to stand.
He waved me back into my seat, saying, “Keep the card. Use it for whatever you need and don’t worry about the cost.”
“Will you not need the card?” I asked.
“I have others so it is of no consequence. Tell me about your outing.”
I related the trip, leaving out the details that would bore him.
“What did you think of the steward?” Andre asked.
“She is very nice and helpful. I had not realized that she was the Grandmaster’s sister.”
Andre chuckled over his wine glass. “Yes. They are a close family. Sophie and Gabe are here. Another sister, Cecily, divides her time between here and Montreal where her oldest son is Paul-David’s heir.”
“Is she Chris’s mother also?”
“Yes. The Gautier family brood mare.”
“They won’t turn her?” Vampires could not bear children, but human servants could.
“Claims she doesn’t want it. Being a human servant gives her longevity and she still gets to see the sun.”
“How old is she?” I asked.
“Eight hundred or so. I’m not sure. Is it important?”
“No, just curious.” More than curious really, but Sophie could better answer my questions.
“So you got along well with Sophie?” Andre inquired.
The hair on the back of my arms stood up. There was something in his tone that made me worry. “Yes,” I said hesitantly. “She was very kind and patient with me.”
“Good, good. I am glad you are making friends.” He did not pursue the subject further, but I had the distinct impression there was more he wished to say to me.
“How was your evening?” I asked, sipping my wine.
“Dull. I had a tedious meeting with the Elders. There were several petitions to make childer that we needed to review.” Unlike other covens, Aether progeny were carefully screened and discussed by the Elders before permission to embrace was given. Aether who disregarded protocol were severely punished, and if the childe was found lacking, then the childe was destroyed. Only the coven Master, lieutenant, and Elders were allowed to make childer without consulting the others, however they rarely did.
“When will I be able to meet the rest of the coven?” I asked.
“I will take you around tomorrow and introduce you to people.”
I winced, thinking how upset he would be. “I cannot go tomorrow night. The Grandmaster requested that I accompany him to a meeting,” I said and braced myself for his anger. To my surprise, there were no angry invectives. Instead he smiled broadly, and the hair again rose on my arms.
“Service to the Grandmaster is far more important. I am delighted that he is finding you so useful.” Andre’s tone was pleasant, but something about it bothered me. “What time do you need to be there?”
“He would like me to be at Gautier House by 12:15.”
“Perhaps, if the meeting does not run too long, I can still take you around so you can meet some of the coven members.”
“I would like that. I am unsure how long the meeting will last, but I cannot think it would last all night. I am sure that Sophie will be able to tell us.”
“I will plan for something late in the night then.”
Andre stood up, crossed to the sofa, and sat next to me. Putting his arm around me, he drew me close, saying, “You are doing very well, Ma petite. Perhaps I was wrong in thinking that you would have a hard time managing in this age.”
Andre blinked hard twice and shook his head as if to clear it. “I’m afraid that the dawn is going to claim me earlier than usual. I must find my bed before I fall out.” Andre stood again and gave me a languid smile. “I would invite you to join me, but I fear that I will be asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.”
I had wondered about that. It was unlike Andre to be so platonic. I could remember very few nights where all we had done was sleep. While I had reservations about resuming my affair with Andre, the fact he wasn’t even trying to bed me was disturbing. I should be grateful he was being this considerate, but it was very unlike him.
I stood to accompany him back into the house. “I think I will study the ritual a bit more before retiring,” I said.
Andre gave me a warm kiss. “I will see you when we rise,” he said before walking slowly toward the master suite. I refilled my wine glass in the kitchen before returning to the study for more spell work.
Chapter 6
ANDRE DELIVERED me to Gautier House just after midnight that evening. After checking with Sophie, my sire arranged to have me dropped off at home after the meeting. He kissed me softly and left. I watched him leave, again baffled by his behavior. He changed with the wind.
Sophie again made sure I was fed. This was becoming an uncomfortable pattern. I had asked Andre early in the evening to take me hunting. He put me off, saying he would take me later, but later never came. I thought about going out on my own, but I no longer knew which areas were Sanctuary, areas where blood taking from humans was forbidden. Penalties for breaking Sanctuary could be harsh, and I did not want to run the risk. Sophie did not even ask if I had eaten; she simply handed me a glass full of vitae. I decided that I could go no longer without addressing the issue. “Sophie, I am reluctant to ask, but would you be willing to take me out and show me safe hunting grounds? I knew where they were two hundred years ago, but the city has changed so much, and I do not wish to violate Sanctuary. I know it is Andre’s responsibility but for some reason he seems reticent to.”
“Of course I will, think nothing of it. There are not very many Sanctuary sites in the city; a few upscale restaurants, the museums, mostly places that a woozy human would cause a stir. Anywhere on Bourbon Street is fair game, but if you want a drink that is not heavily infused with alcohol, you need to go elsewhere. I can show you a number of places. If your meeting runs late, I will take you tomorrow night,” Sophie assured me.
“Thank you. I very much appreciate it.”
Before the conversation could take the uncomfortable turn to why Andre might not wish to show me feeding grounds, Josh Bouchard arrived.
“Ladies,” he said as he sauntered into the room.
“How good to see you, Josh. You remember Madame Grammont.”
“Ma’am.” Josh nodded to me.
“I will let Marc know you are both here. Help yourself to the bar, Josh. Juliette, if you would like anything else, please,” Sophie said.
After Sophie left, Josh asked if I wanted anything.
“No, thank you.”
He opened a bottle of beer and gestured to the sofa. “We might as well sit, it could be a while.”
I nodded and sat. He also took a seat, stretching languidly in a chair. Despite Josh’s dire prediction, Marc did not keep us waiting. We had barely spoken the customary pleasantries when the Grandmaster entered the room.
We left immediately for the meeting even though it was quite early. Marc claimed if he stayed in the house something would come up to make us late. He drove us to an abandoned warehouse in the 9th Ward. Marc explained that this area had been among the hardest hit by Hurricane Katrina and many buildings were now derelict. The area did seem to have an air of despair and gloom.
The Grandmaster entered the warehouse first. I followed two steps behind and to the left. Josh was two steps behind me to the right. There were no overhead lights but we did not need any. All vampires have the ability to see in near dark conditions, and some, mostly members of the Undine coven, can see in total dark. I knew the werewolves had similar abilities. Even so, at the far end of the building, a small lamp cast a weak pool of light to mark our meeting place.
Our footsteps echoed through the cavernous building. I felt the werewolves’ auras before I saw or even smelled them. The Alpha radiated power that was nearly equal to Marc’s. I would not bet on the outcome
of a fight between the two, they were too evenly matched. We walked toward the light and I could discern three vague figures in the shadows. When we were close enough to scent them, I breathed in deeply. The rich pungency of swamp laced with wolf flooded my nostrils. I reached out and touched Marc’s arm. He stopped walking and turned his head toward me.
“It was not them. These werewolves smell of earth and vegetation. The one that attacked Monsieur Chris smelled like the city,” I said softly. All pack members smelled similar, but not exactly the same, so a keen nose could differentiate. Each pack had a different essence that was closely associated with where they were located. Some werewolves did not have packs. These were usually humans who had been made werewolf and abandoned by their attacker. Known as Strays, they were loners, and usually did not obey pack laws.
“Thank you, Madame. I am again in your debt,” Marc said as he began to move toward the werewolf Alpha and his escort. I found it interesting that while the Alpha was very powerful, his subordinates were not. There was always the chance that they could shield their power the way I could, but I thought it unlikely. It seemed more probable the New Orleans pack was sending a subtle message that they had not done this and were not here to fight.
The lamp sat in the middle of a long banquet-type table with six metal chairs around it. The werewolves stood on the opposite side of the table, just outside the glow of the lamp. Their posture was wary and defensive as we approached. I could hardly blame them. They stood accused of harming a human—and the nephew of a powerful vampire at that. Penalties for mauling humans were severe within the pack, but involve the vampires and it was a death sentence.
Marc spoke first. “Mr. Roulet, thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”
The tall, rangy man nodded. “Wanna avoid a war if we can. It’s just Beau, no mister. If one of mine’s done it, he’ll be killed. Can’t have my people attackin’ humans in the city.”
Under the Blood Moon Page 6