Under the Blood Moon

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Under the Blood Moon Page 17

by Tracie Provost


  “Sorry.”

  “I don’t think we should dismiss the idea altogether,” Marc said.

  “You got a plan?” Beau asked.

  “Not quite yet. How much warding can you do in a night, Madame Grammont?”

  “It would depend on the magic in a particular area. I might be able to create a matrix using the city’s own magic and that might cut down the time it takes.”

  “So you might get a lot done in a night or very little.”

  “Correct.”

  “Even at just a little a night, warding would help. We’d know where we didn’t need to patrol and if Madame Grammont starts in the Quarter, we can keep some of the tourists safe.”

  “It’d be best if she started at the Riverwalk and moved in. Not a lot of tourists go down there at night, but it would cut off a city entrance point for Strays staying outside the city proper,” Gabe said. “Do the wards work when they’re on two legs or just in wolf form?”

  “Both forms,” I answered. “But I will need to work from the city’s ley lines and power points. It won’t be as neat and pretty as Gabe would like.”

  “I’ll live,” Gabe said.

  “Are you OK with your people not having access to parts of the city until this crisis is over?” Marc asked Beau.

  “They ain’t been comin’ into the city ‘cept to patrol with y’all, but do I have your word the wards’ll come down once the crisis is over?”

  Marc nodded solemnly. “You have my word of honor that the wards will be removed as soon as the pack of Strays has been destroyed.”

  “Do it then.”

  “When would you like for me to start?” I asked.

  “Would it be possible for you to begin tonight?” Marc inquired.

  “I do not see a reason why not,” I said.

  “Who’s gonna go with her? Mike’s gotta get back to work and I’ve got that thing,” Gabe said.

  I thought about protesting and saying that I could take care of myself, but I knew I should have someone with me. I would be vulnerable while casting.

  “I can do it,” Josh offered.

  Marc nodded. “Thank you, Josh.”

  I spent the rest of the night in Armstrong Park setting up the first piece of the matrix. The ambient magic from all of the voodoo practiced here and the recent murders gave my ward a tremendous boost. I was able to get a good stretch of area, several city blocks and the entire park, secured before Josh insisted I stop.

  “You’re tired and there’s only an hour ‘til sunup. Let’s get you home,” he said.

  “I can do more,” I protested.

  “You’re dead on your feet,” Josh said and I cut him a sideways glance. He laughed. “You know what I meant. Ward won’t work if you can’t do it proper.”

  Sighing, I acknowledged he was right. I was tired. Warding usually did not take a lot of energy, but such a vast area, even with the help of ambient magic, did. Plus, I was getting hungry. Josh seemed to sense this too and suggested we get something on the way home.

  “I know a great little diner where all the drunks go. We’ll grab two and have a quick snack. Unless you need more?”

  “More than one drunk would intoxicate me at this point,” I said.

  “Pay good money to see that,” Josh joked. “Too bad we ain’t got the time.”

  As it was, I worried that Josh would not make it home in time. When he dropped me off, I asked, “Do you want to stay here for the day? There is a second bedroom that is completely lightproof.”

  “Nah, I’m just down the road. I’ve got plenty of time,” he said, leaning close before abruptly backing away again. “I’ll pick you up at ten o’clock tonight for more warding.” Then he was gone.

  I sought my bed, doing my best to push aside the memory of how butterflies had erupted in my stomach when I thought he would kiss me.

  MY NEXT EVENING’S wardings were interrupted by a meeting of the Grand Council. Josh and I had just left my house on the way to the riverfront when he received a call summoning all coven leaders and their lieutenants to meet at Gautier House at midnight. The Grand Council was technically only the coven leaders, but in times of war or great crisis, it was not unusual for the lieutenants to be included as well.

  “Sophie didn’t want to call your phone and interrupt your warding if you’d already started,” Josh said, explaining why Sophie had not called me personally. “She knew I was out with you tonight and could relay the message without interrupting anything important.”

  I nodded, taking the reason as practical and not a slight. Looking at my watch, I said, “That gives us about an hour and a half. I will not get much done, but any little bit will help.”

  I was able to ward far more than I had expected by the time Josh drove us to Gautier House, but I still had miles of territory to cover. When we arrived at the house, Josh parked on the street, noting there was no room in the courtyard for his car. I had become accustomed to going in through the rear entrance, so I was surprised when Josh led me to the front door and knocked.

  We were given entrance by Marc’s bodyguard, Bernard, and directed to the conference room. Josh led me down the hall to the kitchen and through a door I had not previously noticed, into what had once been the dining room. The glittering crystal chandelier illuminated the room’s inhabitants. Everyone was standing in tightly clustered groups of two or three, speaking in low voices.

  It became immediately clear that Josh and I were not appropriately dressed for the occasion. Because I had been out casting, which entailed scrambling over rocks and tramping across spongy grass, I had worn clothes practical for the activity. Now, in my jeans, purple t-shirt, and black Converse tennis shoes patterned with skulls that Mike had convinced me to buy, I felt woefully underdressed. This was not the impression I had wished to make the first time I met with my fellow coven leaders. Josh either did not notice or did not care that his jeans and green t-shirt were markedly more casual than the three-piece business suits the other men in the room were wearing. The few women were all in dresses or skirts with jackets.

  Marc broke off the conversation he was having with Gabe to come and greet us as we walked into the room. “How is the warding going?” he asked me.

  “Two pieces of the matrix are done. The voodoo from Congo Square and the residual anguish from the old slaving docks provided a powerful foundation.”

  “That is very good. I’m sorry to have stopped your work; however, I thought it would be best to convene the Council to keep the rumor mill to a minimum,” Marc said.

  “It will be a nice break and I can return to casting refreshed.”

  Marc smiled. “If all of my coven leaders were so agreeable, my life would be so much simpler.” Looking around, he took a quick head count. “We seem to still be missing . . . ah, here he is. We can begin.”

  Four sides of the huge pentagonal table had two massive, carved chairs pulled up. The fifth side had only one chair. For a moment, I thought that was Marc’s seat, but he had moved to a different side and stood next to Gabe. I took a closer look at the chair carvings and realized they were each coven’s coat of arms. The lone chair depicted the Aether crest with its lamp of knowledge sitting on several spell books. I quickly went to stand behind it.

  Marc pulled out his chair and sat. The rest of us did likewise. The room had gone deadly quiet, and the Grandmaster held everyone’s attention.

  “Thank you all for coming this evening on such short notice. As you know, we have an ongoing crisis in the city. It has come to my attention that it is exponentially worse than we initially feared.”

  There was nervous shifting and isolated whispers as Marc continued. “Before we get to that, we do have a new member at the table. The fire at Frederique Deroche’s home destroyed all but one of the city’s Aether coven members.”

 
“Was that connected to the current crisis?” the Undine Coven Mistress interrupted. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight chignon, emphasizing the pallor of her skin and the harsh angles of her features. Even so, Collette St. Pierre was a beautiful woman.

  Marc shook his head. “For the moment, it seems to be an unfortunate accident.”

  “An accident where an entire coven is destroyed?” she asked derisively.

  “I understand your skepticism, Mistress St. Pierre, but no outsiders have stepped in to claim leadership, and Madame Grammont was here that evening. If it is somehow connected, we have not yet found a link,” Marc said smoothly.

  “Could the Strays have set the fire?” The question was out of my mouth before I even realized it.

  Marc looked thoughtful for a moment. Before he could answer, Gabe asked, “To what purpose?”

  “Without the Aether, you have no ability to ward. Unless there is a mage in another coven?”

  “No, Madame. You are the only one left. We had looked at the fire and the werewolf problem as two separate issues. I think we may need to reevaluate that,” Marc said. Gabe nodded gravely. “For those of you who have not met her yet, this is Juliette de Grammont. She has agreed to serve as the Aether Regent for the moment. She spent most of last night and earlier this evening warding parts of the city against werewolf intrusion.”

  There were nods of acknowledgment around the table. No one seemed openly hostile to me, which I considered a bonus. Marc turned to me and asked very formally, “Would you please tell us what you, Lieutenant Bouchard, and the werewolf Alpha, Beau Roulet, found in the warehouse last night, Regent Grammont?”

  I was momentarily taken aback at the request but quickly regained my composure. It was only proper since I outranked Josh in the vampire hierarchy that I would be asked to give the report. I straightened myself and said, “Before last night, we knew of four attacks carried out by five Strays. Early yesterday evening, one of the patrols found evidence of more attacks in an abandoned warehouse in the 9th Ward.”

  “What do you mean, ‘evidence’? More bodies?” This question came from the Undine lieutenant. Even sitting, Simon Paquet was an imposing figure. Less his build, which was solid, it was his demeanor that unsettled me. His hazel eyes were cold pools of lifeless inhumanity.

  “There were no bodies left, only parts, and there were not many of them. The Maneater Strays appear to be taking their victims back to the warehouse and eating them there.”

  “How many victims are we talking here?” the Salamand Master asked. A blond, Nordic god, Paul Barthelmy leaned forward to pierce me with ice-blue eyes.

  “At least forty, perhaps as many as fifty,” I answered.

  “Five Strays did all of that?” the Sylph Master gasped.

  I shook my head. “Fifteen. The five we already knew of plus ten others.”

  The room erupted. Everyone seemed to be talking at once, and panic was in the air. Marc waited for the pandemonium to settle before he spoke again. “This is bad, I know. Luckily, all but one of the bodies was disposed of before the human authorities could find them. The other body was altered to look like a knife wound. If we work together, as we did after Katrina, we can get through this. I want to double nightly patrols, and Regent Grammont will continue to ward. Once areas are warded, we can stop patrolling there.”

  Again everyone spoke at once. I looked across the table and saw Marc roll his eyes. Finally, one voice rose above the others demanding, “What about us?” The Sylph Master’s voice was high and pinched. For a man of his immense girth the sound was out of place. I fought the sudden inappropriate urge to giggle.

  “What do you mean, Master Dubreil?” Marc asked.

  “Why aren’t we being protected more? It should be our homes that are secured first, the human areas can be done later,” Tousaint Dubreil said.

  “There have been no attacks on vampires. We do not seem to be targets. We need to concentrate on those at risk so we are not discovered,” Marc patiently explained.

  “Your nephew was attacked,” Tousaint accused.

  “My nephew is human.”

  “Was,” someone said.

  I looked up sharply trying to identify the speaker. “The boy remains human,” I said in a tone that brooked no dissension.

  The room went silent again and every eye was on me.

  “Christopher Gautier is human. Despite his wounds, he did not become a werewolf at the last full moon,” I said.

  “How do you know this?” the Undine Mistress demanded.

  “I sat with him the entire night. The beast never emerged. That was why I was not at the Sabbat meeting.” That seemed to quell the questions.

  Marc regarded Tousaint for a moment and then asked me, “Would it be possible to ward the personal residences of the coven leaders and lieutenants who wish it tonight?”

  “Not all tonight, but they can be done,” I said.

  “How is this going to affect your creation of the warding matrix?” Marc asked.

  “If nothing else, it will supplement it, but depending on where the residences and businesses are, they may actually feed into the matrix,” I said.

  Marc ended the meeting. “Very good. Regent Grammont and Lieutenant Bouchard, please stay behind so we can map this out after the meeting. Gabe or Sophie will be contacting each lieutenant with the new patrol rotations.”

  There was mild grumbling around the table, but no open dissension. Everyone but Josh, Gabe, Marc, and I stood up to leave. The meeting had been amazingly short. I had expected something very long and drawn out, especially when Marc had used such formal address with us. After the door closed behind the final person, I asked, “Is it always such as that?”

  “Aw, hell, that was mild. Usually Tousaint gets a good rant on. And it wasn’t like we didn’t know they’d ask questions about Chris. You shut Collette down right quick. Nice job,” Josh said.

  “Tousaint’s an ass,” Gabe said.

  “He ain’t that bad,” Josh said. Gabe raised his eyebrows. “OK, maybe he is, but he’s my coven leader, so I gotta show some respect.”

  Gabe snorted. “There’s a first time for everythin’.”

  “Gabe,” the Grandmaster admonished.

  “Sorry. We need to get a map in here so we can sort this out. I’ll be right back,” Gabe said as he left the room.

  “What did you think of your fellow coven leaders?” Josh asked.

  “I did not really meet them. Sitting across a conference table is hardly a basis on which to judge someone,” I said.

  Josh’s laughter filled the room. “That was a politique answer if I ever heard one.”

  I quirked an eyebrow. “I prefer to judge a person by his actions or inactions rather than polite talk around a table.”

  “You are right there, darlin’. A man’s words are no good if they ain’t backed up by deeds.”

  Gabe returned with a roll of papers under his arm. Clearing space on the conference table, he unfurled a set of city maps. “You got a plan?” Gabe asked me.

  “To keep the peace, we need to placate the coven leaders by protecting their homes first. Depending on where they live, I would like to set up safety corridors between the houses and then move on to other areas that have high magic concentrations. I need that to complete the matrix.”

  Gabe nodded. “You’ll need to come back here each night to update the map with new wardings so we know where not to send patrols. It isn’t as easy as the original plan, but it does serve the purpose and keeps Tousaint quiet.”

  “Gabe,” Marc warned. Gabe mumbled something under his breath as he unfurled the map on the table. Pulling a pen from the breast pocket of his suit jacket, Gabe handed it to Josh. “Mark what Madame Grammont has managed to ward so far.”

  I stood. “While you do that, I will
begin warding here since there are none against werewolves.”

  “No, the existing wards are fine. Honore just reset them, and I may need to meet with Beau Roulet again. I’d like to do that here,” Marc explained.

  I wanted to argue but Josh handed the pen back to Gabe and said to me, “Come on, we’re wastin’ the night and there is more than enough to do for people that really need it.”

  I could fight this battle later, I reasoned and followed him from the room. Once we were back in the car, Josh asked me, “Are the wards weak?”

  I did not answer immediately. The wards in the house were not dangerously inadequate, but certainly not as strong as I thought wards on the Grandmaster’s house should be. “They are not as strong as I can make them,” I finally said.

  “Could you break them?”

  “Any ward can be broken with enough time and magic. These will take time and a good deal of magic to break. Mine would take longer and much more magic.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “Think of wards as castle walls. They will keep out a normal assault. Think of a magical attack like the projectile hurtled from a trebuchet. Only the weakest of walls will fall under only one shot, but even the strongest walls cannot stand up to a constant barrage. Honore’s wards are standard castle walls. Mine are much stronger. But you were correct when you said there were others who were not protected at all and we should concentrate on them. It would take a good deal of time to ward Gautier House to my satisfaction.”

  “Alright, then let’s get busy. There’s still lots of city to cover. We’ll start at Tousaint’s house over in the Garden District and move on from there.”

  Over the course of the next few hours, I warded all of the coven leaders’ residences, and after Josh called the lieutenants, warded their homes as well. I found out that Josh lived just a block and a half from me. His house was already warded but, as he explained to me, not against werewolves, and it would be convenient to have a safe corridor between our homes because many tourists passed here on the way to St. Louis Cemetery Number One. Considering the cemetery closed before dark, I thought it was a stretch, but I indulged him. Besides, we only thought all of the attacks were at night. For all we knew, the people in the warehouse had been taken during the daytime. I found I liked spending time with Josh. I liked it a lot and that made me feel guilty.

 

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