“Why don’t you toss that over here,” Josh suggested. “Ain’t sure how good the lady’s aim is, but I wouldn’t push it.”
Jaime tossed a clear bag at Josh’s feet. “There are some of the claws and teeth of the Stray.”
When Josh retrieved the bag and held it up I saw that it did indeed contain several claws and two canines, complete with blood and fur from where they had been cut from their owner. Josh made a disgusted noise. I lowered my weapon and traded the pistol for the bag.
“You sure you want that?”
“I will be able to tell if these belonged to the Stray that attacked Chris.” I opened the bag and inhaled the scent. I could smell Jaime, but I could also distinguish the stray werewolf’s scent. Reaching my hand in, I touched one of the claws. Instantly I could see the last few moments of the creature’s life through his own eyes. The images rocked me. Jaime was not someone to be trifled with.
“You OK, Juliette?” Josh asked.
Withdrawing my hand from the bag, I nodded. “It is the correct werewolf.”
“Alright, I’ll talk to Marc and try to set a meeting. How can I get in touch with you?” Josh said.
“Don’t worry. I’ll contact you,” Jaime said and was gone.
WE LEFT THE cemetery quickly after our encounter with the Gatekeeper. We did not speak until we reached my front door.
“Would you like to come in for a moment?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’d like your take on this before I talk to Marc.”
“Please come in,” I invited as I unlocked the door and disarmed the security system. Josh stepped in and whistled. I winced. I really needed to ask Sophie about hiring painters.
“Um, there’s lots of gold . . . and angels.” Josh murmured politely.
“It gets worse, I assure you.” I led him into the formal dining room. Josh stopped dead at the sight of the mural.
“Wow, just wow. It looks like a bordello and Versailles puked in here. Oh, I’m sorry, that wasn’t nice. Um, real eclectic work, you got here, Juliette,” Josh sputtered.
I laughed. “You are correct. It is hideous. Versailles was not as overdone as this, at least when I was there. Certainly the bordellos in this city were never this garish. The master suite is even worse. I spend most of my time on the loggia. Sophie was kind enough to help me choose comfortable furniture for out there, and I donated the statues to the museum.”
“That was your donation? Everyone’s been talking about it. What a coup it was to have ten classical nudes in such good shape bequeathed to NOMA.”
I led the way through to the kitchen. “The statues were beautiful but did not belong in my backyard. The museum is a good place for them. They should be enjoyed by many. Would you like something to drink? I have wine, beer, brandy, and, I believe, some scotch.”
“A beer’d be great. Kitchen’s real nice,” Josh said examining the fine cabinetry.
“There is Abita, Dixie, and Sam Adams,” I said after opening the refrigerator and inspecting the contents.
“I’ll take a Sammy. You stock a nice selection.”
“I cannot take credit. This is what was in the house when I returned.”
“Well, Andre might have shit taste in decorating, but he does beer right,” Josh said, taking the bottle cap off with something on his keychain.
I poured myself a glass of wine and led Josh out to the loggia. The night was still hot and humid, but the ceiling fans moved the air nicely. Josh sat on the couch as I took what had become my normal chair.
“You’re right, this is comfortable furniture and a might bit prettier than what is inside,” Josh said, sipping his beer.
“It is much better than what was here. But we did not come here to speak of my furniture,” I said.
“Nah, we didn’t. Whaddya think of the kid?”
“I am not sure. She was telling the truth about killing the werewolf. I saw that when I touched the claw. But I have never heard of these Gatekeepers before, and their existence seems like something that someone should know about,” I said.
“I was thinking the same thing about someone knowing something. I guess the best thing to do is talk to Marc. He can decide if this kid’s legit and if he should meet with her.”
“Do you want me to go with you when you speak to Monsieur Gautier?”
“Nah. I’ll head over there from here. See if Sophie can squeeze me in between appointments. I’ll let you know what Marc says.”
“Before you go, may I ask you a candid question? Actually two?” I wasn’t sure that I would get better answers from him than I had from Sophie, nor was I sure I fully trusted him, but without anyone else, I was stuck.
Josh grinned and took another swig of beer. “You can ask me anything you want, darlin’.”
“Why are you being nice to me?”
Josh’s expression became slightly chagrinned. “Hell, I ain’t doing this right if you’re asking me that.”
If I’d still been human I would have had the grace to blush. “No, you are doing it right,” I assured him.
“Your second question?” Josh prompted, trying to move us past the awkward moment.
“Why are the Gautiers being so nice? It is obvious they disliked Andre and while I did save their nephew, I would think they would hold me at arm’s length.”
“That question is a might more complicated, and at least a bit of this is guess work on my part. First, Sophie genuinely likes you. She told me as much. Liked you even before you saved Chris. Marc, well, he’s Grandmaster and stays in power through the adage of ‘keep your friends close but your enemies closer.’ He had Sophie take you shopping to get to know you better.”
“So they think I’m an enemy?” I asked, a bit hurt.
“Naw, rather an unknown. Possibly a friend, maybe an enemy. I’m not doing a good job of expressing myself,” Josh said, his brows furrowed.
“They certainly weren’t friendly to Andre,” I pointed out.
Josh chuffed and took another drink. “He ain’t an enemy, or wasn’t. Certainly he wasn’t a friend. Andre and most of the Aether fell into the gray area of neither friend nor foe.”
“What about Frederique?”
“Oh, she was a friend. Marc’s gonna miss her.”
I smiled sadly. Frederique had been easy to like. I missed her friendship now more than ever.
“Look, they like you. Don’t worry about it.” Josh drained the rest of his beer and stood. But worry about it I did.
I REFRESHED MY glass of wine in the kitchen and walked through the French doors to the loggia. The early evening heat was finally dissipating, and a light breeze had made the night pleasant. Settling into a comfortable chair, I kicked off my shoes. Placing my wine on the teak coffee table, I picked up the book I had left there earlier. It was a thick world history text that I had asked Sophie to get me. I had missed so many events during the past two hundred years, and even casual conversations were fraught with references that I did not understand. I thought I should brush up before my lack of common knowledge became apparent.
I was firmly ensconced in Napoleon’s invasion of Russia and most of the way through my wine when I felt the prickle of magical power. I looked up to see Jaime, the young woman from earlier in the evening, drop over the fence and into my courtyard. I watched as she picked her way through my herb garden careful not to step on any of the plants with her heavily-booted feet. Crossing the narrow swath of cobblestones, she entered the loggia and dropped onto the chair opposite me.
“I thought that Josh guy’d never leave,” the girl said.
“By all means, Jaime, come in and make yourself at home,” I said sarcastically.
“Look, Juliette, I need to talk to you, and I figured some of the stuff I had to say was kinda private so ya wouldn’t want an audience. I know it ain�
��t polite to just drop in on ya like this, but what I’ve got to say can’t wait any longer.” In the light, I noticed that her hair wasn’t dark as I’d originally assumed in the cemetery but had an odd, deep-red sheen to it. Her eyes were heavily ringed in kohl, and her lips were painted black.
“What sort of ‘private things’?” I asked, almost amused.
“About you being a thaumaturge.”
I closed the book and slapped it on the table. “How did you know that?” I demanded.
Jaime held up her hand. Numerous silver rings caught the light. “Like I said, private stuff. Stuff you might not want your new boyfriend to know about. At least not yet.”
“He’s not my boyfriend, but that is beside the point. How do you know about me?”
“Let me start at the beginning. Back at the cemetery I told you I was a Gatekeeper charged with making sure the Hellmouth under New Orleans stays closed.”
I nodded.
“That’s only part of it. I’m also your guardian. I wasn’t at St. Louis by accident tonight. I went there hoping to talk to you alone. You’ve been real well guarded by Marc Gautier. That’s made that part of my job easier, but in other ways, made it harder.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about. You are my guardian? How? Why?” I looked at her as if she were mad.
“I’m talking about the prophecy.”
“What prophecy?”
“The prophecy that says ‘one with magic in blood and bone will come forth on the Cold Blue Moon and, with willing sacrifice, open the Gates of Hell. Angels will weep and Lucifer will reign on Earth. Only another with magic in bone and blood can stop this.’ You’re a thaumaturge. You’ve got magic in your blood and bone.”
I just stared at the girl for a long minute and then blinked. “I think I need a drink,” I said as I stood and walked into the house. I returned a few minutes later with a bottle of Maker’s Mark Whiskey and two rocks glasses. I set them on the table and resumed my seat.
“So am I the first thaumaturge in the prophecy or the second?” I asked, rather proud that my voice did not waver.
Jaime leaned forward. “Well that’s the problem. We don’t know. When you first became a vampire two hundred years ago and were under the sway of Andre de la Croix, Gatekeepers feared you were the first.”
“Wait. You mean your organization thought that Andre was evil? In league with the devil? That is preposterous,” I said and cracked the seal on the whiskey. Pouring a liberal two fingers into both glasses, I pushed one toward her.
Jaime picked up the glass eying it speculatively. After a quick sniff she took a sip. “This is good stuff,” she said appreciatively. “Actually no one is sure about de la Croix. Rumor two hundred years ago was that he had dabbled in some pretty dark magic at Versailles before coming to New Orleans. As you know, communication was not exactly the best back then. Messages were often lost, and it seems a whole series of letters between Parisian Gatekeepers and New Orleans Gatekeepers were lost at sea.”
“But now, you all are not sure if I am evil or not?” I asked wryly.
“No one ever thought you were evil. The Gatekeepers feared that you might sacrifice yourself not knowing the true purpose. De la Croix is dead now and you are on your own.”
“The prophecy spoke of the Cold Blue Moon? I know that the blue moon is the second full moon in a month. Cold moon? Does that refer to December?”
Jaime nodded her head enthusiastically, revealing a series of silver earrings in both ears. “Every month’s full moon has a different name. October’s is the Blood Moon. December’s is the Cold Moon. The last Cold Blue Moon was in 1800. Not long after you were staked.”
I had a bad feeling. “When is the next Cold Blue Moon?” I asked, fearing I already knew the answer.
“This year. New Year’s Eve will be the second full moon of the month.”
I drained my bourbon at that. “I can tell you I have no interest in opening a Hellmouth, sacrificially or otherwise,” I said.
“I was pretty sure you didn’t and that’s why I approached you—to warn you. I’ve been watching you since your return and you do good things. You’ve helped avert a vampire vs. werewolf war and saved the Grandmaster’s nephew. I figured the only way you’d sacrifice yourself to open that Gate was if you didn’t know what you were really doing and they lied to you. My Master will probably have my head when he finds out I’ve talked to you, but I thought it was worth the risk. Working together seemed the best way to prevent this.”
“You have been watching me? Spying on me?” I screeched. Then I shook my head and forced myself to focus on the real issue. I would deal with the peeping Tom issue later. “Who is ‘they’?”
“We aren’t sure who ‘they’ are. That’s part of the problem. We know the leader is Alastor Creighton, but he is orchestrating this from afar. We don’t know who is working for him here in New Orleans. We thought some of the Aether, but you seem to be the only one left.”
“Are you sure it will occur here? Did you not say that there were Hellmouths in other cities as well?”
“There are other Hellmouths but few are in places where the veil between worlds is so thin. It will be at its thinnest on the Cold Blue Moon. They are on high alert in those other cities as well, but we also have a known thaumaturge, you, here in New Orleans.”
I sighed.
I SAT IN THE MEDIA room of the Gautier House, sorting RSVPs. The TV was on, and Chris was attempting to teach me the finer points of science fiction by using an episode of what he referred to as ‘the real Star Trek.’ Apparently, there were later shows that operated on the same premise, but Chris claimed them to be inferior posers. I was quickly learning a colorful teenage vernacular.
I will admit to not paying quite as much attention to what Chris was saying as I should have been. My mind kept straying to the prophecy that Jaime had spoken about and my possible part in it. I knew that I should tell Marc but was honestly afraid to do so. Did my knowing about it alter the outcome? I thought so. My Aunt Marguerite, my father’s sister, was a seer. I had met her once, and then only briefly, but she warned me not to stay in France. That if I did, I would die. Papa took such things seriously, so he broke off the marriage negotiations he was conducting on my behalf and we returned to St. Domingue. I later learned the comte I was to wed and his pretty young wife had been among the first to die by guillotine during the Revolution.
I drug my attention back to Chris and his explanation of transporter technology.
“It sounds like magic,” I said.
“No, no magic to it,” Chris explained. He paused the DVD and launched into a detailed description of quantum levels and subatomic particles. I was saved from listening to more by a knock on the door. Chris stood up to answer it, and I went back to my RSVPs, thankful for the interruption.
Josh Bouchard sauntered in with a stack of envelopes in his hand. “Sophie asked me to give these to ya,” he said, handing them to me. I groaned. There must have been forty responses. I was never going to finish this list.
“Oh, good! We’ll have time for another episode,” Chris said excitedly. I managed to stifle this groan. It wasn’t that I was not interested or that I didn’t appreciate Chris’s tutoring me in popular culture. I just wasn’t sure I was up for any more tonight.
“What are you watching?” Josh asked.
“Star Trek,” Chris answered.
“The original?”
“Of course.”
“Have you seen the reboot yet?”
“No. I’m afraid it’s gonna suck donkey balls,” Chris declared.
“It’s getting real good buzz. It’s over at the Theatres at Canal place. We should go,” Josh suggested.
“I don’t know. I hate to waste money on somethin’ that sucks.”
Josh snorted. “Won’t cost you
a thing. I got an in with the owner.”
“Well, OK then,” Chris reluctantly agreed.
“How ‘bout you, Juliette? You wanna come along?”
I looked up from the pile of cards I had been sorting with a guilty look on my face. I had only been half-following the conversation and was unsure exactly what I was being asked about. “I am sorry, I was not paying attention. How about what?”
“Ya wanna go see the new Star Trek movie on the big screen?”
I had heard and read about movie theatres but had not had the opportunity to attend one yet. The experience interested me so I agreed.
“Which episode are ya watchin’?” Josh asked Chris.
“Enemy Within.”
“Is that the one where Kirk has the split personality?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, I love that one. Mind if I stay and watch?”
“Have a seat.”
Chris started the video again as Josh sprawled in a nearby chair, seemingly intent on the oversized TV screen. Half-watching the TV show, I continued sorting and tabulating the Gala responses. Occasionally I would ask a question or one of the men would stop the DVD to explain something. When the episode ended, Josh asked how my work was going. I had a nice system in place, but the stack of responses was still substantial.
“I will be here a while longer,” I said.
Josh looked at Chris. “Another episode?”
“Sure.”
About a quarter of the way through Mudd’s Women, I finally finished the pile of responses. Leaving the lists and envelopes in neat stacks on the desk where I had been working, I joined Chris and Josh in front of the TV. Settling myself into a comfortable chair, I was finally able to give the show my full attention.
When this episode ended, Chris suggested watching another, but I declined. Josh said he needed to go as well and offered to escort me home. I agreed. I wanted to know what Marc had said about meeting with Jaime and also what he thought of the prophecy. I had tried to see Marc earlier in the evening, but Sophie said he was on a conference call that would take most of the night. The soonest she could work an appointment into his schedule was three days from now. While it was urgent that I speak with the Grandmaster, December was still months away, so a few days’ wait would not hurt anything.
Under the Blood Moon Page 13