The Witch's Thirst

by Deborah LeBlanc

  “Nothing,” Evee said, a bit put off with Lucien’s pessimism, although it had reason. “When the police knock on their door, they don’t answer. So nothing’s been said...yet.”

  Lucien nodded, his lips a thin line of worry.

  “Anyway,” Evee said, “the bottom line of all this is that Shandor knew too much.” She looked from face to face. “Did any of you tell him anything?”

  “Of course not,” Lucien said. “I don’t even know the man.”

  “As if!” Gilly exclaimed, pounding a fist on the chair arm.

  “I don’t even know who Shandor Black is,” Gavril said. “So I know it wasn’t me and would bet my life that none of the Benders have said a word to anyone. We’re here to help you, not spread gossip to people we don’t even know.”

  “Who exactly is this Shandor Black?” Lucien asked.

  “One of the three sorcerers who live in New Orleans,” Evee said. “He’s partners in a law firm with Trey Cottle, one of the other sorcerers.”

  “And neither of them can be trusted for shit,” Gilly said. “Both of them have only done spells and incantations to serve their own needs. I’ve never known either of them to reach out and help anyone else.”

  “Who’s the third sorcerer?” Lucien asked.

  “Gunner Stern,” Evee said. “He’s not a business partner with Trey or Shandor, but he seems to hang around them pretty often, so there’s a question about him there. He seems like a genuinely nice guy, and our Elders, well, at least one of them appears to trust him. But Shandor is Trey’s yes-man and his right hand. And for the exact reasons Gilly just mentioned, there was no reason for Shandor to approach me. Too out of character. Claimed he wanted to help us. Join forces for the sake of the city.”

  “Bullshit,” Gilly said.

  “My words to him exactly,” Evee said. “But despite Shandor, it seems we now have someone on the streets spreading rumors about us.”

  “Do you think it might have been the Elders?” Gilly asked.

  “With the fight we had with them earlier about the sorcerers, I seriously doubt it,” Evee said. “And you know Arabella. When she says she’s going to think on something and then get back to us, that’s exactly what she’s going to do. There’s no pushing a go-button with her until she’s ready.”

  “So, I assume you haven’t heard from her yet?” Gilly said.

  “Right. No update.”

  “Me, either. Maybe it was one of the other Elders,” Gilly said, then stuck her thumbnail into her mouth and chewed on it.

  “You know they don’t do anything without Arabella’s approval. Even without that, Vanessa hates all of the sorcerers. She’d rather cut off her head than run to one for help. As for Taka, well, she’s a few crayons short of a box. I just don’t see her having the wherewithal to simply take to the streets and start spreading rumors. Besides, you know how fearful she is about being found out. She’s probably having nightmares about being hanged, then burned at the stake.”

  “Then someone else has to be watching us...closely,” Gilly said.

  Evee shuddered at the thought.

  “Just how big is the threat if the sorcerers do get involved?” Nikoli asked.

  “It’s a trust issue,” Evee said. “There’s no telling what kind of spell or incantation they’d cast. Remember, Trey and Shandor are infamous for only using their powers for their benefit. Anything that gives them more power, more control over the world of magic. It’s always seemed like they were in competition with the Triad or anyone from the Circle of Sisters. They jump in, screw things up so it turns bad for us and looks good for them. I swore I saw a smirk cross Shandor’s face. I wanted to spit on him. He tried to sound nonchalant, of course, even look worried, concerned about us. I didn’t bite.”

  “We need to keep a close eye out for those guys,” Gavril said. “What do they look like?”

  Gilly snorted. “One looks like a pig, the other a rotting twig with glasses.”

  Evee couldn’t help grinning at Gilly’s short, but relatively accurate, description. She filled in the blanks for the Benders. “Trey’s kind of short and dumpy. Balding head, gray hair wrapped around the back of his head. He wears glasses that always sit near the tip of his nose. Always wears a suit. Except for wearing a suit and glasses, Shandor is Trey’s mirror opposite. Tall, lanky, thinning gray hair that he combs back, away from his forehead. And he has a thin face that holds a perpetual scowl. Both in their late sixties, early seventies. As for Gunner, he’s a white-haired gentleman, late sixties, I’d guess. Pretty average in appearance, except for his eyes. They’re bright blue. Average height and build. Nice face. Very different from Trey and Shandor.”

  “Different doesn’t always mean different in a good way,” Lucien said. “For all we know, this fellow, Gunner, because he’s so different from the other two, might be the one finding out information and spreading rumors. If he’s as different from the other two as you say, it would be easier for him to collect data. You know, nice guy, no one suspects a thing.”

  “Maybe we do have to look at what seems least obvious,” Evee said. “Honestly, though, right now we don’t have time to hammer through this. We’ve got a feeding to do. I just wanted to warn all of you. Give you a heads-up. It’s not like it’s not tough enough that some of our spells don’t work, but now we’ve got to watch out for spies.”

  “But your spell did work,” Lucien said. “Remember the illusion spell earlier?”

  “You did an illusion spell?” Gilly asked, gawking at Evee. “Wow, I haven’t seen you do one of those in years. How’d it go?”

  “She saved my life,” Lucien said with no hesitation. “We’d just come out of the catacombs when it seemed like the entire sky opened up with Cartesians. I tried to get Evee to go back into the catacombs, but, being who she is, she was determined to stay and help. That’s when she did the illusion spell. Confusing those Cartesians was brilliance in the making. They didn’t know where to aim. It gave us time to push all the ones who’d crawled through rifts back.”

  “You go, girl!” Gilly said, giving a little clap of congratulations.

  “Just something that had to be done,” Evee said. “I’m thankful it worked. Now let’s get ready for the feeding. I’m sure the dome’s done, since the ferry isn’t that big, and Viv’s probably getting the cattle ready.”

  Gavril put a hand on Gilly’s shoulder. “Guess we’d better get our lineup ready for the Chenilles.”

  She nodded.

  Lucien grabbed the doorknob to leave, then turned to Evee. “I know this sorcerer thing has everyone concerned. We just have to take this slow. I don’t mean in speed, but slow as in being mindful of every decision we make, so it’s the right one. And, of course, keep an eye peeled and look over our shoulders from time to time. Don’t worry. I’ve got your back, and I know Nikoli has Viv’s.”

  “And I’ve got Gilly’s,” Gavril said.

  “Glad we’re all up to speed,” Evee said. “Hopefully things will start heading in the right direction and quick.”

  With that, everyone left the office single file.

  Evee felt Lucien’s body close behind hers as they made it into the main room and squeezed through the crowd of people. A six-foot transvestite, wearing black fishnet stockings and a shorter than short red glitter dress with accompanying four-inch red glitter heels, and one of Gilly’s waitresses were walking at a furious pace. The waitress carried a tray filled with nachos smothered in cheese and jalapenos, three margaritas and two glasses of beer. Evee came to an abrupt halt to let her hurry by. Lucien pulled up short right behind her, and in that moment, a drunk sideswiped the waitress, and her tray flipped out of her hand, its contents landing all over Evee.

  With a gasp, Evee stood stock-still, feeling melted cheese slide from her hair down to her cheeks, the front of her clothes. She felt
like a garbage dump and smelled like a margarita gone bad.

  “Oh, God, I’m so sorry!” the waitress said. “Somebody bumped into me and...please let me help. Get something to clean you up.”

  “I’ve got it, Darnelle,” Gilly said, and turned to Evee.

  “Is it as bad as it feels?” Evee asked.

  “Worse,” Gilly said. “You look like a walking disaster. I’ve got a clean pair of jeans and shirt in my office that I keep there for emergencies. You can use those. We wear the same size, so no problem there. No way you’re going to get all that goop out of your hair in the bathroom sink, though.”

  “You know the Monteleone’s just a block away,” Lucien said. “You’re welcome to shower in our room.”

  “Plan,” Gilly said. “I’ll go get the clothes. Then Gavril and me will head out to do our thing.” With that, Gilly hurried off to her office.

  Evee felt like an idiot, standing there with cheese and booze dripping all over her body. She refused to look at Lucien. Too many people were staring at her and laughing as it was.

  Within minutes, Gilly was back with jeans and a green-striped sweater. She handed them to Evee. “Here. Go, shower.”

  Thinking about taking a shower in Lucien’s hotel room gave Evee pause. But only for a moment as another glob of cheese dripped down from her hair and slid down the middle of her face.

  Holding the clean clothes at arm’s length, Evee gave Gilly a look, which she hoped her sister could read. You know this shower thing is sending me into dangerous territory, right?

  Gilly lifted an eyebrow, and the hint of a smile played around the corners of her mouth. “Shower, then off to the docks, right?”

  “Right.”

  “A little cheese and booze isn’t so bad, considering,” Gilly said. “What else could possibly go wrong between here and the hotel?”

  It wasn’t the distance between Snaps and the Monteleone that Evee worried about. It was the distance between her and Lucien in the hotel. She made a mental note to remind her bright-eyed sister to lose the words “What else could possibly go wrong?” from her vocabulary.

  Evee knew all too well that many things could go wrong...and probably would.

  Chapter 17

  Lucien led Evee down Bourbon Street, then Royal toward the hotel. Unfortunately, she’d suffered a few catcalls along the way. A drunken jerk yelled, “Hey, lady, watch out for the big-ass birds out here! Oops, too late. One already gotcha!”

  Lucien had to hold back his temper because he’d wanted so badly to punch the guy out. And anyone else who made a negative comment. He knew how embarrassed the remarks made Evee because she stayed close behind him, nearly pasted to his back, trying to stay out of sight as much as possible.

  When they finally reached the hotel, Lucien went straight to the bank of elevators, placing Evee in front of him so she was sandwiched between him and the elevator door. As they waited for the elevator to ding open, Evee wrung her hands every time someone walked in or out of the lobby.

  As hard as he tried to give Evee some sort of safe refuge, inevitably somebody would walk by, do a double take at her, then move on with a laugh. He couldn’t blame them for staring, really. She was quite the sight. Cheese covered most of her head, and her face was smeared with it despite the many napkins she’d used to try and clean her face. Her clothes were a lost cause. Her black pants and shirt had been doused with alcohol and dribbled cheese.

  Lucien kept his fingers crossed that there’d be no one else in the elevator when it opened.

  Two seconds later, he found that his luck held out. The doors whispered open with not a soul inside.

  He hustled Evee into the elevator, hit the button for the twelfth floor and jabbed the close button numerous times, wanting the doors to close before anyone else stepped inside.

  Lucien let out a sigh of relief as the doors closed, with him and Evee the only riders. Only then did Evee take a step away from him.

  “This has got to be one of the most humiliating things I’ve ever been through. I smell like a bar and garbage dump all mixed together,” she said, and for a moment, Lucien thought she’d start crying. Instead, she lifted her chin and stared at the floor numbers illuminated one by one over the elevator door.

  As the tiny cubicle began moving upward, Evee kept her eyes on the floor number lights.

  “It’s not so bad,” Lucien said, and swiped a string of nacho cheese off her left cheek, then licked the cheese from his finger. “Doesn’t taste bad, either.”

  Evee gave him a light punch in the arm, and the smallest of grins.

  He smiled softly, and held the clothes Gilly had given Evee to change into closer to his chest. The conversation about the sorcerers in Gilly’s office played over in his mind, but, for some reason, it didn’t concern him as much as it seemed to bother the Triad. Of course, he didn’t know the sorcerers as well as they did, so his radar on the matter could be way off. Right now his thoughts were on Evee. How close she was to him, no matter the cheese and booze. The thought of Ronan tumbled across his mind, causing Lucien to remember how enamored Ronan had been with her. It saddened him that Ronan would never experience the dinner date he’d made with Evee.

  Fate had taken Ronan out of Evee’s life. And although guilt over Ronan pressed against his heart, he had a choice to make. Either mourn what might have or could have been between Ronan and Evee or wait for fate to deal a double hand. His last choice was to make certain this woman would always be by his side, safe, protected...loved. A word that felt strange to Lucien even when he thought about it. He’d never uttered the L word to any woman before, and although he’d yet to say it to Evee, there was no denying that somehow, in the midst of all they’d gone and were still going through, he’d managed to fall in love with her.

  As the elevator took its time making its way to the twelfth floor, he noticed that Evee had her fingers of both hands crossed at her sides. He guessed that she was hoping that the elevator wouldn’t stop on another floor before it made it to the twelfth.

  To break the silence, Lucien asked, “You really think those sorcerers are a threat to us?”

  “I do. Just don’t know how big. I don’t know what their agenda is, but I know that two of them for sure are trouble.”

  “The Trey and Shandor duo?”

  “Yeah.”

  The elevator finally bounced to a stop, and the doors swished open. Lucien stuck his head out to check for people and gave Evee a thumbs-up, indicating the coast was clear.

  Evee grabbed on to the back of Lucien’s shirt and clung tight as they left the elevator, hung a right in the hallway, then all but ran fifty feet before Lucien came to a stop. He dug into his back pants pocket, pulled out a key card, then stuck it into the appropriate door slot and pushed the door open. He hoped the maids had already taken care of business for the day. Not that he and his cousins were slobs, but Gavril had been the last to use the shower, which usually meant towels strewn all over the floor and toothpaste spit in the sink.

  Lucien breathed a sigh of relief when he walked in and saw the beds neatly made, and everything smelled lemony fresh and dust-free.

  He pointed to a room on the left. “Bathroom’s right in there. Help yourself.”

  “Thanks,” Evee said, then grabbed the clothes out of his hands and hurried off to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

  Half expecting it, Lucien thought it a bit odd when he didn’t hear the lock click on the bathroom door.

  Not knowing what else to do with himself, he walked over to one of the beds and sat on the edge of it. He ran his fingers through his hair, hearing the sound of water now coming from the bathroom. The sound made him fidget. He wasn’t sure what all the sorcerer information really meant, but if Evee considered them worrisome, then he’d trust her judgment. Enough to see them as another part of an equa
tion, which only meant more trouble. The last thing they needed.

  Growing more restless by the second, Lucien got off the bed and went into the sitting area of the suite. He picked up a magazine that highlighted the have-to-see locations in New Orleans, then sat on the couch and flipped through the magazine, not paying attention to any of the pictures or articles. He couldn’t stop thinking about Evee in the next room.

  He imagined her in the shower, wanted more than anything to be in there with her. Touch her, hold her, reassure her. he just needed to be near her; cheese or no cheese, booze or no booze, it made no difference to him. Beneath it all was the essence of Evee, and that always filled him with need and desire. It made his heart grow so huge it felt like it wanted to burst from his chest.

  Lucien continued to flip through the magazine. First forward, then backward, still not seeing a damn thing on its pages.

  Suddenly, unexpectedly, Lucien heard Evee call out to him.

  “Lucien, do you have any shampoo? I don’t see any in here.”

  He jumped to his feet, went to his travel bag and grabbed the shampoo he normally carried with him when traveling. Hotels rarely handed out enough shampoo and cream rinse to handle four grown men sharing a suite.

  Lucien stepped up to the bathroom door and said loudly, “I have some here. Do you want me to leave it outside the bathroom door?”

  A moment of silence followed before Evee said. “The bathroom’s pretty big and cold. Is there a way you could, like, bring it in here?”

  Surprised with her answer and confused by the hesitation in her voice, he asked, “Do you have the shower curtain closed?”

  “Of course I do,” she said.