Over her chanting, she heard it—light at first, then sinister—Olivia’s laughter. It was as if every corner were filled with it and as it reached a crescendo all of the candles save the white pillar were extinguished. Olivia stood in front of her, outside the circle.
“So, finally you summon me. I take it you’ve discovered your true nature.”
Liz stood, staying on her side of the circle. “I am not sure I’d call it true or natural, but, yes, I have discovered what you made me.”
Vivienne felt faint. She stayed put and concentrated on the white candle, quietly asking for Rosalie’s help.
“Oh, Daniela. You were so willing to become my blood sister then. So sweet, submissive, so innocent.”
Liz shook her head. “I thought I loved you, and perhaps then I did. But not this time. You were deceitful and cunning in turning me. I had no choice. But I do have a choice now that I know what you’ve made me.”
“Let’s stop this nonsense.”
“No. When Van Helsing killed me, I knew he’d help me again. I told him as much. If I can come back, who is to say he hasn’t? I could have stopped him, Olivia. I gladly helped him drive the stake through my heart out of guilt for what I’d done to Sasha. I’d gladly do it again for the guilt I feel over Alex, too. But that seems too easy. I would much rather help him end you.”
Olivia didn’t back down. “You’ll tire soon enough; you vowed we’d be together then. Doesn’t that vow mean anything to you?”
Liz shook her head. “Vows made out of desperation are not good for anything, Olivia. I made no such vow to you in this lifetime. Had I known what it meant when I took the vow before, I’d not have taken it.” She reached a hand down to Vivienne, who stood up next to her. “You’ve not only wronged me, but you’ve also taken the one family member Vivienne could trust from her and turned him into a miserable predator.”
Vivienne cried at the mention of Christophe and what he’d become. She turned to Liz and said, “I vow to help you in your fight against Olivia.” She clutched a bottle of holy water in her hand.
Liz turned to Olivia. “I have help this time. I am not being dropped on your doorstep so you can keep me like a plaything. And, I remember it all—everything you’ve done before and now. I’ve found a donor; I believe she used to be a friend of yours? Ai? She’s been helping me figure out how to play the hand you’ve dealt me. Don’t try to harm her; if you do, I’ll see to it that your beloved Christophe and Morrigan suffer. You might have stolen the ritual to get Wren free, but Christophe is no match for his sister’s knowledge and power.”
Olivia laughed. “If it’s a battle you want, that’s what you’ll get. I find it amusing that you think that you and your little Mambo friend are a match for me. I have all the time in the world to indulge you.”
“We’ll see. My quest is just starting. I suspect once I find Van Helsing and Sasha that the battle will be won. I have amends to make for not helping them when I had the chance. Had I helped Van Helsing end your life then, things would have been much different.”
“Perhaps, but then you would have lost your sweet Alex to Wren by default. Oh, I suppose that happened anyway.” She laughed again. “You’ve much to learn. Eventually you’ll see the folly of your ways, little one.”
Vivienne opened the vial of holy water, and as she threw it toward Olivia, Liz watched it and it was as if it were in slow motion. Silvery beads of water seemed to hang in the air, glinting in the light of the candle, and Olivia’s laughter faded as she seemed to shatter into bits of glitter that fell to the floor and disappeared.
Afterward: Mardi Gras Day, February 12, 2013
Liz was joined by Kirby, Mike, and Vivienne as she walked with the Societé de St. Anne to the Mississippi River. She and Vivienne were wearing all white and had white masks on, edged with fine glitter. She carried a parasol to shield her fair pale skin and coppery hair from the sun. Her lips were ruby red against her dazzling teeth when she smiled. Ai and Deanie were waiting for them at the bar.
As tradition dictated, the Krewe met at a house in the Bywater every Mardi Gras morning and made a procession to the river. Membership was determined by who showed up, and this year the Societé met at a small house on Montegut Street that Liz and Vivienne had just moved into together. Once the procession got underway, Liz and Vivienne led the pack of walkers through the streets. Liz held an ornate box under her arm that held Alex’s ashes.
The morning was clear, and as they approached the river, Liz felt lighter than she had in a long time. She recognized the spot as the one in her dream where Alex disappeared over the water, and she knew that she had chosen the right path. At the moment that she opened the box to release the ashes, a breeze picked them up and they swirled over the water briefly as Vivienne sounded the conch shell.
Acknowledgements & Thanks
My first thanks goes out to my Fearless Writing sisters. Having the opportunity in November of 2013 to spend a few days in Eureka Springs with my forever sister, Renee Rodgers, and to meet my new sisters in writing—including Mindy Phillips Lawrence and Tammy Johnson—made a huge difference in my writing and how I view my work and my approach to things. I hope that Crescent Dragonwagon continues to hold those workshops both in real life and virtually. She is an inspiration to us all.
Huge thanks also go out to my early readers—Stacy Fletcher, Victoria Barnes, Brian Englehardt, Deborah Rodgers, and Renee Rodgers. Victoria and Renee were instrumental in asking questions that kept things going. Liz and Vivienne owe you two a special debt.
There are some places here that are “real” spots, and I encourage folks to go spend some time and money in New Orleans. The city is changing and exciting things are afoot, but I promise you will fall in love if you meet her on her terms.
I hope that you enjoyed Brigitte’s Cross; I’d love to hear from folks through a review, or you can contact me through the site at http://oliviachronicles.com/
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