Under the Blood Moon

by Tracie Provost

  “We’ll get you some grubbies from Wally World.”

  “I’ll talk to Sophie about it,” I said, skirting body parts and blood to retrieve the pocketbook. I rifled through it looking for a wallet.

  “I’ll take you. I doubt Sophie has ever been in a Wal-Mart. She is strictly uptown and would be completely out of her element.”

  I nodded absently, reading the woman’s driver’s license. “Kathleen McClure, 25, from Chicago, Illinois.”

  “This is her husband, Bruce,” Mike said, indicating what was left of the man. “By the way, Sophie called while you were doing your thing. The Grandmaster has requested we come to Gautier House after we finish here.”

  “Good, I need to speak with him as well.”

  “‘Bout the bodies?”

  I nodded.

  “Let me tell Vinny that he can proceed, and I’ll drive you over,” Mike said.

  “Are you in an automobile or on the bike?” I asked.

  “I’m on duty so I’ve got a car tonight. Sorry.”

  Poor man still thought I actually enjoyed my ride on that awful machine. Deciding not to ruin his fantasy, I said, “Maybe some other time.” I could not have been more relieved.

  While Mike talked to Vinny, I took a few pictures of the scene with my iPhone—or at least I hoped I did. Sophie had shown me a number of functions the device could perform, and I was attempting to embrace technology. I did not wish to be one of the Luddite vampires that refused to change with the times, but the touch screen confused me. I could not always make the device do what I wished. I somehow ended up looking at a map of the area, which was not what I wanted. I finally found the screen I needed, although I did manage to take a few pictures of myself before I got the lens turned properly.

  I needed to work with this more when the results were not as crucial. If I did not learn modern ways, I would be at a distinct disadvantage as Regent and severely handicapped if I became Coven Mistress.

  When Mike returned, we left for Gautier House. I thought it odd that the detective had not inquired about my findings until he said, “Why don’t we wait until we’re with the Grandmaster to discuss what you discovered. There is no point in you repeating yourself.”

  I could see the logic in that and spent the short car ride through the French Quarter deep in thought. Mike parked the car in the back courtyard and we were met at the door by Sophie.

  “Thank you both for coming right over. The Grandmaster is waiting for you in his office.”

  We were escorted down the long, portrait-studded corridor to the Grandmaster’s office. When we were admitted into Marc’s inner sanctum, we found not just the Grandmaster but also the Alpha of New Orleans’s werewolf pack. Both stood as we entered. Introductions were made and pleasantries exchanged.

  “Beau and I were strategizing about how best to deal with the Stray problem,” Marc said as we sat in the intimate furniture arrangement around the fireplace.

  “The problem is larger than we first thought,” I said. “This attack was perpetrated by three Strays, none of whom participated in the earlier attacks.”

  Beau swore, and Marc’s expression conveyed the same sentiment. “You’re sure?” the Grandmaster asked.

  “Yes, I scented the scene twice to make sure. Three new Strays, and I believe they are Maneaters.”

  “Fuck!” The Alpha stood and began pacing the room. He reminded me of a caged animal.

  “How could you even tell with all the carnage?” Mike asked.

  “The entrails were gone from both bodies and they were not strewn elsewhere at the scene. I suppose they could have been taken as trophies and not eaten.”

  “Everything was gone?” Beau asked.

  “The intestines and heart were definitely missing. I suppose the other small organs could have been mixed in with the other gore. It would have taken too much time to do a thorough inspection. As Detective Angelletti said, there was substantial carnage. The male victim’s arms had been torn off, and the female’s torso was no longer attached to her legs. There was blood and viscera everywhere.”

  “Vinny is doing clean up so maybe he can tell us what exactly is missing,” Mike said.

  “It really doesn’t matter what is missing, just the fact it is missing. If we are dealing with Maneaters, and several of them at that, then we need to redouble our efforts to find them,” Beau said, pausing by the fireplace.

  “Alright, I’ll bite. What is so special about these Maneaters, aside from the obvious? I mean, I get that eating a person is cannibalistic, at least from the human point of view, and the public would freak if they found bodies that had been eviscerated like these tonight, but you seem really panicked about this,” Mike noted.

  “Once a werewolf begins to eat human flesh, he descends into madness. Sometimes it is a slow slide and other times it is quite rapid. They kill more and more frequently to feed the hunger inside. They become careless. Unless we find them quickly, the number and frequency of attacks will skyrocket and people will start to report seeing large wolves,” Beau explained.

  Marc seemed lost in thought with his chin resting on his steepled hands. “I will coordinate with the Undine and Salamand leaders to set up patrols of the city. Beau, would pack members be willing to pair with a vampire on these patrols? Your people can tell friend from foe by scent; not all vampires can. Plus, we can cover more ground this way.”

  “Yeah, we can do that. Good idea,” Beau said. “I’ll set it up with my people.”

  Chapter 10

  IT WASN’T LONG after full dark that I left the house. I carefully set the alarm and locked the door behind me, juggling the bouquet of camellias in my hand when the lock stuck. Finally the bolt slid home, and I slipped the key into my trouser pocket. I found it odd but liberating to wear pants. They certainly made moving easier. I scanned up and down the street, but it was deserted. I detected a faint energy signature in the opposite direction from where I would be walking, but it did not worry me.

  I had traveled the route to St. Louis Cemetery, now ‘St. Louis Number One,’ dozens if not hundreds of times before, but not since my return. I used to make this pilgrimage every Monday before I had been staked. Many things along my route had changed in the intervening years, but I did not dare spend the time to examine them. It was not safe for me to be out unescorted, but I could not defer this task any longer. I had considered asking Sophie and Mike to accompany me, but this visit was too personal. I needed to go alone.

  I hurried along the sidewalk, the occasional car passing me. I felt an energy aura behind me, getting stronger almost with every step. When I arrived at Basin Street, a fairly well-traveled road, I turned to confront my pursuer.

  Whirling around, I saw Josh Bouchard about half a block behind me. His ambling gait hitched for a second when he realized that I’d seen him, but he continued to walk toward me. I stood waiting on the sidewalk. The flower stems in my hand were almost mangled by the time he reached me.

  Nodding to me, he said, “Ma’am.”

  “Why are you following me?” I demanded without preamble.

  His lazy grin grew even wider as he said, “It’s a beautiful night and I’m just out for a stroll.”

  The flower stems snapped in my hands as I glared at him. “It is hot and thick tonight, not pleasant, and certainly not beautiful.”

  Josh laughed. “Why, Madame Grammont, are you sayin’ I’m lying to you?”

  “Yes. Why are you following me?” my voice squeaked.

  He reached out toward me and I jumped back. Holding his hand up in front of him, Josh said, “Whoa, there. I ain’t gonna hurt you. I was just gonna take the flowers before you destroy ‘em.”

  I thrust the bouquet at him with a shaky hand and took several steps down the sidewalk.

  Josh looked at the flowers in his hand, then at me,
and then across the street to St. Louis Cemetery. Casting his eyes down, his grin faltered. “I didn’t mean to interrupt a personal moment or nuthin’. Sophie asked me to keep an eye on you since you’re all alone and all. Ain’t safe for you to be out alone right now. I saw you leave your house and I followed to make sure you were OK. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  I stared at him for a moment and then opened my second sight. It was not at all what I expected. There was no malice or malevolence. Sadness, lust, and protectiveness were the predominant emotions.

  “I’m sorry. I figured you knew it was me and wouldn’t worry. I shoulda figured you didn’t know me real well and would be wary of anyone. Will you let me escort you to your destination? It really ain’t safe. There was another Stray attack last night,” Josh said.

  I nodded and held my hand out for the flowers. “I examined the bodies for M’sieur Gautier. It is not a lone Stray in the city, unfortunately. I have distinguished at least five different lupines.”

  “But you’re out alone anyway?”

  I shrugged. “My fears come on two legs, not four. My magic will protect me from a werewolf, but you are correct, there are other dangers, and if you are willing to escort me, I would be grateful.” I was hesitant, but Sophie seemed to trust this man, and I needed to trust someone.

  “You’re goin’ to St. Louis Number One?” Josh asked.

  “Yes. The Grammont crypt is there.”

  “How are we gonna get in? Climb the fence?” he asked as we crossed the street.

  I laughed. “No. There used to be a trick to the gate off of Treme. Hopefully, no one has fixed it.”

  We walked around to the backside of the cemetery. By casual glance and a tug, the gate was locked tight, but centuries ago, Andre had fixed it so that a lift, push, and twist of latch would open the gate. Luckily, it still worked and we quickly entered the deserted cemetery. There were many more crypts than the last time I was here. We passed a number of crumbling tombs, and I hoped that Camille’s final resting place had fared better than these.

  The family crypt sat at the far end of the first row facing the front entrance. It was among the oldest in the cemetery. Originally commissioned in 1790 by a merchant who was unable to pay the final bill, it sat empty and unfinished until it was bought in 1792 by a family friend, afraid that the tomb would receive not only my stillborn daughter but me as well. Rene du Bois had hired workmen to hastily complete the structure, and my child was interred there before I had fully recovered from childbed fever.

  The Grammont tomb had been well tended over the years. I was relieved to see that it was not overrun by weeds and the tiny patch of grass was neatly trimmed. The white marble gleamed under the waning gibbous moon. I could easily forget that it was over two centuries ago when I was last here. It was a hauntingly beautiful building. Who sees its upkeep? Andre? Certainly not. He never understood my attachment. Frederique? More likely. She had once had children and remembered the pain of burying them.

  There was a twinge of sadness when I realized that I would never be able to thank her for her kindness.

  Josh stopped several feet away and let me approach alone. I entered through the wrought-iron gate and cleared away the wilted flowers in the urn. They were perhaps a week old. Again I was touched by Frederique’s generosity. I knelt and placed my offering in the urn. I said a quick prayer. I would have liked to make it longer, but even with Josh here to guard me, it would be foolish to linger. I stood and took a moment to trace the weathered inscription with my finger.

  Camille Josephine de Grammont

  The 18th day of February in the Year of Our Lord 1792

  I turned and exited through the small gate, making sure to latch it behind me. Josh turned at my approach. “You wanna take more time?” he asked, reaching to brush a tear that I did not realize was there from my cheek.

  I gave a small smile. “Thank you, but it would not be prudent. As you said, there are dangers in the city and we should not tempt fate. I will spend more time when it is safer.”

  Josh nodded and put his hand on the small of my back to guide me out. We had not taken a dozen steps when we both stopped abruptly and looked at one another.

  “You feel it too?” Josh asked in a low voice.

  “Yes. Human. A mage but with something I do not recognize.” It felt almost holy but I could not put my finger on it.

  “Can you shoot?”

  “Yes.”

  Josh bent, retrieved a small gun from his left boot, and handed it to me. It was barely the size of my hand, much smaller than the flintlocks I was accustomed to. I assumed the mechanism to be similar and cocked the hammer. From the small of his back, Josh drew a second gun.

  A lithe young woman stepped out from between two tombs. “You can put your guns away. I’m not here hunting you.” She held her hands splayed in front of her indicating she held no weapons, but I was sure there was a stake or two up each sleeve and a small arsenal hidden under her black trench coat.

  Josh’s gun was aimed at the girl’s head. “If you ain’t hunting us, then what are you hunting?”

  “Demons. Some idiot keeps summoning them and letting them run amuck in the city.”

  “You hunt demons?” Josh was incredulous.

  “Tonight I’m hunting demons. Three were spotted earlier. I need to find and dispatch them before they cause too much trouble.”

  “Tonight you are hunting demons. What do you normally hunt?” I asked.

  “Whatever is causing chaos in the city. For the past couple of weeks it’s been those damn stray werewolves. Sometimes it’s a vampire who has given in to bloodlust and y’all don’t take care of it fast enough.”

  “So you’re the supernatural police?” The sarcasm dripped from Josh’s words.

  “Could you put the gun down so we can have a civilized conversation, Mr. Bouchard? Having a gun held on me makes me a bit twitchy, even if it is in the hand of a Texas Ranger,” the young woman said.

  “You seem to know an awful lot about me.” Josh’s aim did not waver.

  “I know a lot about both you and Mrs. Grammont there.”

  “I would like to know what she has to say,” I said in a low voice.

  Josh grudgingly uncocked his weapon and lowered it. Mine remain cocked at my side.

  “Who are you and why do you seem to know so much about us?”

  The girl leaned against the nearby tomb giving an air of nonchalance. It was just an act. She was as tightly coiled as Josh. “Name’s Jaime Sprenger. I’m a Gatekeeper.”

  “Ghostbusters? You’re gonna tell us you’re Zuul?”

  Ghostbusters? Zuul? What is Josh talking about?

  Jaime laughed and tossed her dark curly hair. “No, I don’t have the ability to open the Hellmouth. It is my job to keep it closed and send anything that does sneak through back to where it came from.”

  This I understood. “There is a Hellmouth here in New Orleans?” I asked.

  “Yep. We’re sittin’ right on a vortex. We’ve got a lot of activity from Hell trying to get through. Like I said, someone’s summoning demons and letting them rampage through the city.”

  “Vortex?” It was Josh’s turn to be confused.

  “Where two ley lines, lines of power, intersect,” I answered.

  “Yeah. New Orleans doesn’t have the only Hellmouth, but it is one of the more active ones. But this is busy even for the Big Easy, and activity is combined with a surge of supernatural trouble.”

  “The werewolves,” Josh observed.

  “That, and the disappearance of all the Aether coven members except Juliette. It’s OK that I call you Juliette, right? Mrs. Grammont is so formal, and I know so much about you.”

  I shrugged. As uncomfortable as I was with the familiarity, I doubted that my concerns would stop Jaime. “Do
you know anything about the fire?”

  Jaime shook her head. “We’d heard rumors that a change in leadership might be in the works—a coup—but we could never get any specifics. I’d say that if the fire was a coup attempt it was a rather spectacular failure. I mean you’re the only one left, and chatter about leadership change predates your return.”

  “Who’s we?” Josh asked.

  “The other Gatekeepers. There are a bunch of us in each city with a Hellmouth. At least really active Gates. Some places only have three or four.”

  “How is it we’ve never heard of you Gatekeepers before?”

  “You knew about our activities, at least some of them, but blamed Hunters for them.”

  “But you are not Hunters?” I asked.

  “Not like the ones you’re thinking of. We don’t hunt demons, werewolves, or vampires just because they exist. We step in and take them out if they cause problems, but only then. We take out Hunters too if they get too zealous.”

  “You kill other humans?” Josh sounded surprised.

  “We are equal opportunity. Cause chaos and we will deal with you, human or not.”

  “Comforting.” My tone suggested it was anything but.

  “Obviously you are not here to kill us, so why are you here?” Josh asked.

  “We want to negotiate an alliance to keep the Hellmouth closed,” Jaime said.

  “Juliette and me don’t have that kind of authority. You’ve gotta talk to the Grandmaster and Grand Council.”

  “Both of you are members of the Council and you can broker a meeting between me and Marc Gautier. You were the one to make arrangements with the werewolf Alpha.”

  Josh and I exchanged looks. This woman knew far more than either of us was comfortable with. “I can ask but I don’t know if Marc’ll meet,” Josh said.

  “You are well respected by all. That is why I approached you. And tell your Grandmaster that the stray wolf that attacked his nephew is dead.” Jaime reached into her pocket, and I brought the gun up from my side. “Hey! Didn’t mean to spook ya. I’ve got proof for you to take back,” she said and withdrew her hand very slowly.