“Lock picker,” I murmured to myself. “Are they really asking to hire someone to break into places? Is there no law enforcement for the underworld?”
“Perhaps it doesn’t mean what you think,” Bill said.
I read further and found out he was right. Ilsa’s Charm Shop was looking for a lock picker, meaning she wanted someone to dispel traps. “Sounds dangerous. She means breaks magical spells, I bet. I can do that.”
Bill agreed. “If anyone can, it’s probably you.”
I beamed. “I’m going to call her.”
“Better yet, honey, come on down to the shop!”
I shouldn’t have been surprised that Ilsa’s face appeared on the screen and that she was listening in on my interest in the job. The last time I had found her ad on the underweb, she had appeared there, although being human she couldn’t actually enter the library.
Recalling on several occasions I had dispelled magic with just a touch or being in the vicinity, if Ilsa was willing to pay me for doing nothing and being myself, I was going to apply for the position. I left the library and headed over to the French Quarter to her voodoo shop. If one wasn’t looking for it, one would pass it by. I wondered if there was a spell that kept it that way but decided that couldn’t be the case. Otherwise, she wouldn’t get any clients.
I already knew the dark and spooky atmosphere of the shop crammed to the gills with items was just a front. Ilsa was the kind of witch that enjoyed dressing in bright colors and frilly costumes. Today, she had donned a stark black dress, and her frizzy hair had been scraped back into a staunch bun. The only spoiler to her getup was the paleness of her skin highlighted the freckles on her face. Cute, not scary.
“It’s good to see you again, honey,” Ilsa said. “How did the werewolf situation go? Oh, well since you’re not in the grave or have limbs missing, I assume okay.”
“Yes, thanks, Ilsa. It’s good to see you, too. It will be even better if you consider hiring me. I can dispel any magic, and I’m willing to negotiate on salary.”
She giggled. “Not any magic, but I think you’ll be useful. Once you get the hang of it, I bet you’ll do just fine.”
“So you’re willing to hire me?” I had come prepared to sell myself more than I had. The boasting about dispelling any magic was a huge stretch, but one had to say what one needed to get the job.
“Of course. You were already hired before you came, silly girl.” She shook her head as if I should understand and waggled a finger at me. “My charts are never wrong, and they told me who I should hire. When I did a little scrying this morning, I knew just the time to post my advertisement. Sometimes it’s scary how good I am.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. She was confident all right, and I liked it. “That’s great. So can we talk salary? Is it too soon to ask for an advance?”
“Much too soon,” she assured me, and I snapped my fingers. Hey, if I was destined to get the job, I figured it couldn’t hurt to ask. Not like I would get fired. Ilsa believed I was the one. She flashed me a happy grin and spun on her heel. “Now, come over here and fill out a little paperwork. Mind, don’t touch anything.”
I recalled she feared I would ruin the items she had cast spells on to sell in her shop, so I kept my arms inside the ride as I approached the counter. Ilsa waved a hand, and the assorted items cluttering the space before her disappeared. I was impressed and had a moment of regret, thinking why couldn’t I have come back as a witch. How cool would that be?
A wiggle of her fingers and twirl of her wrist, paired with a few muttered words, and Ilsa produced a single sheet of paper with writing on it. I peered at it in suspicion. The top read employment contract, and there was a spot at the bottom for a signature. Yet, if I wasn’t mistaken, subtle vibrations radiated from the sheet. I didn’t touch it.
“Is this a witch’s contract where if I sign, I’m giving away my freedom, Ilsa? Because you still haven’t said how much you’re paying me. Plus, I kind of like my freedom.”
“Of course not.” She laughed but touched the page, and it was gone again. Somehow I doubted her denial. “Let’s just have an at-will agreement, shall we? As long as you’re willing, you’ll work for me, and I can let you go at any time.”
“Sounds good so far.”
“The money is on a job by job basis and will depend on the power of the spell. You’ll receive an item, let’s say for example a music box, and according to how difficult I judge the spell is to break, I’ll pay you a certain sum.”
She named an average amount, and I accepted it. We weren’t talking getting me into designer brands. Not that I had ever had interest in such things. In addition, the items needing my expertise might come semi-regularly or not at all for a couple weeks. I almost groaned in disappointment, but even a bit of money was better than none.
“Also, honey, you’ll work at home,” Ilsa told me. “I can’t risk you moving about the shop. I’ll send the packages by special courier.”
“Wow, I love that part most of all,” I declared. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Ilsa, and thank you for the opportunity.”
“The pleasure is all mine, honey. Now run along. Work to do.”
I left the shop looking forward to my new assignments, which would make life quite entertaining indeed.
Chapter Eight
I passed the threshold into death, or rather into a human hospital. The place seemed like the pathway to death, now more than ever. Although I didn’t see them, I sensed the dark beings arriving to take the souls of the dead or dying. I kept out of their way as I traversed the halls. Granted, they had nothing to do with vampires. However, you don’t tempt creatures like these—Bill withstanding, of course. I teased him whenever I got the chance.
Tonight, in the hospital, there were several cases of unexplained fever. When I heard the news, I recalled the woman at the hotel and her talk of odd fevers. In discussing the matter with Violet, or rather attempting to because she refused to answer my questions, I figured out that the situation was serious. I wanted to see a victim for myself because I had a suspicion that wouldn’t let me go until I confirmed it.
At the end of Violet’s and my call, Violet had ordered me to stay away from the hospital. I don’t know why, but her words sounded like “head directly there” to me. Go figure. When I arrived, I picked up her scent. I assumed she was investigating, and for now, I left her to it. Instead, I chose to seek out Carl, who by now must have been in the hospital a week.
Following Carl’s scent, which I recalled from working with him, I passed several ghosts. None of them clung to me asking questions like a certain someone I know. All the ghosts scattered upon sight. When one ignorant fellow lingered, another waved frantically at him to get his attention, and then the two of them disappeared. If it wasn’t so sad, it would be funny.
I paused in the doorway to Carl’s room. He lay on his bed moaning, his eyes wide and staring. A woman as thin as he was naturally lingered at his bedside. “I’m sorry, Carl. I didn’t come to see you that often. Just hang on. It’s not too late.”
I watched as his spirit rattled about his body. The wisp of energy seemed like it was losing its ability to hold on to Carl’s physical form. Rather than advise the woman it was indeed too late for Carl, I remained silent. I had intended to question him, but he was too far gone by the looks of it.
“Are you his sister?” I asked.
The woman started and looked up at me. Her red-rimmed eyes were filled with tears. “Yes, who are you?”
“A friend. What happened to him?”
“Don’t you watch the news?” she snapped. “Carl was attacked by one of those roving weirdoes, except he wasn’t in a public place like the others. Ever since then he’s been sick. He thought everything would be okay because it was just a small bite. That’s what he told me a few days ago when he could still talk. My stupid brother didn’t go to the doctor to get a shot. They probably have rabies or something.”
Rabies might be nice in comparison.
“Why doesn’t someone do something?” she railed, but it didn’t appear that she was looking for an answer. I guessed she had questioned the doctors nonstop since Carl arrived. Drifting closer, I wondered. Shouldn’t there be a quarantine set up? Maybe the doctors weren’t panicked yet. If my theory was right, they should be.
An alarm went off, and the sister and I both stared at the flat line. He was gone. Having the ability to see spirits, I had the advantage. I watched as Carl’s ghost drifted out of his body. His sister, blind to the fact, jumped to her feet, yelling and shaking her brother. Hospital staff rushed in, and I moved to a corner of the room, once again, practicing a cloak. No one paid me any attention, but I wasn’t sure if it was because of the emergency or because they couldn’t see me.
I waited for Death to arrive to take the soul to his reward. Nothing happened, no increasing darkness that made me want to be anywhere but there. Were they slack on their duties? Backlogged? Carl’s ghost spotted me, and unlike the others, he drifted in my direction. As he moved, he kept looking back at his sister. He seemed antsy, but I couldn’t put my finger on why.
“Rue,” he whispered for no reason. Who could hear him? “You’re a vampire. That’s why you wouldn’t work during the day. Cool.”
I frowned at him. Here again was a ghost who seemed to know things he shouldn’t just because he was out of his physical body. When I first met Lily, I had been impressed with her knowledge. Later, of course, I learned she wasn’t all-knowing, thank goodness.
Carl confirmed he wasn’t either when he said. “I think you’re dangerous to me now, but I don’t know why.”
“Dangerous?” I said. “You mean I can banish you.”
His eyes widened. I expected fear, but what I got was eagerness. “Yes! Rue, banish me. Send me away, please.”
“Why?”
“My sister. I don’t want to hurt her.” He moved to his sister, who now stood near the door, hands clutched together in front of her, tears streaming down her face. Doctors worked to revive Carl, but I knew already it was hopeless.
“Carl, you’re a spirit. You can’t hurt your sister, and I’m sure you don’t want to. It’s a choice.”
He shook his head and inched forward, heading in the direction of the bed. The way he leaned away from it, one would almost think he was being pulled and resisted. “I can,” he sobbed. “I will. Please, banish me, Rue, before it’s too late.”
I figured it out. No member of the Death squad would arrive to pick up Carl’s spirit because Carl’s soul wasn’t abandoning his body. I gaped as he fought tooth and nail as if an invisible chain around his neck dragged him back to his body. Whatever held the other end took up the slack until he attempted to hold himself back with a foot to the side of the bed. That didn’t work because he had no physical form.
Moments later, Carl opened his eyes inside his body and glanced around at the hospital staff. “I don’t understand,” one of the doctors murmured. “Check that machine.”
The nurse he spoke to nodded and fiddled with the monitor. I ignored them and moved around the staff to get a better look at Carl. His sister elbowed her way between them to grab for her brother’s hand. “You’re okay!”
He said nothing, but his gaze continued to search the room. Spotting me, he stared. “You didn’t do it.”
I had uncloaked myself. No one moved. No one spoke. I knew in an instant the person speaking to me had left his humanity behind in the moments between his last heartbeat and when he opened his eyes. The staff was befuddled because they couldn’t believe the equipment wasn’t working. Yet, they had the evidence right in front of them, Carl speaking and trying to rise.
“You must rest,” the nurse said as she tried to convince him to lie down. “You’ve been through a lot, and we need to run a few tests.”
The doctor commanded other equipment to be brought in. He had somehow mislaid his stethoscope, so he couldn’t manually check for a heartbeat. Several people flew from the room to take care of the orders given to them. I remained as well as a nurse and Carl’s sister. The grunts started up, and I recognized them right away.
“Carl,” his sister said. “Why are you making that noise? Does it hurt? Why aren’t you looking at me? Carl!”
“Take her out,” he gritted between clenched teeth.
I was fascinated that he could speak and think. So this was a new ghoul. Would he become more mindless the greater his hunger grew? I had the feeling he would. Well, time to put an end to it.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry, but your brother didn’t survive,” I said as I approached the bed.
Confusion settled on her face, and the nurse looked at me as if she was two seconds to tossing me out. She and the others must have assumed I was a friend who came with the sister.
“What are you talking about? Look at him. He’s fine.” She pointed at her brother, and he snapped at her finger. I pulled her hand back in time. She gaped at him. “Carl, what’s wrong with you? Stop messing around.”
He launched himself at her faster than I expected. Maybe it was the scent of her finger coming so close. Still, I caught him around the neck and slammed him on the mattress. The silly sister and the nurse both came after me, screaming.
“Stop, stop! You’re hurting him!”
“He will eat you and everybody else if don’t kill him.” I shook them off with a shrug of my shoulders, but they kept leaping at me. Fists, which I scarcely felt beat at my back, and fingers tugged my hair. The absurdity of this situation occurred to me, and I realized I could have handled everything better.
The next time someone threatened to snatch out clumps of my hair while I fought with Carl, I yelled, “Enough! Move over there.”
I felt the power leave me. When the two women looked at me, they were compelled to obey. The nurse unfurled her fists, and the sister’s fingers untangled from my hair. The two marched like soldiers to the side of the room, but I saw their misery. Inside, they both wanted to stop me but didn’t understand why they couldn’t.
Running a hand over my face, I gave the situation more thought. Carl, beneath the other hand, snapped at my flesh, but he kept missing. I focused on the ladies. “You will forget this happened and that I was here. All you know is that his heart stopped, and he passed away quietly. Do you understand?”
Both nodded.
“Okay, good. Now, both of you go into the hall for now.”
They trudged out, and I handled Carl as I had handled the previous ghouls. He being new was much easier, and it worked as last time. However, having seen him transform, I began to wonder if the way I killed him trapped his soul inside his body. Perhaps it left later, when no one was looking. I wasn’t a cruel vampire, and I wanted to believe my methods weren’t such. I couldn’t sense life of any type from Carl.
After I finished with him, I left his room at a speed that meant the two women wouldn’t see me. I heard them speaking and soon after Carl’s sister crying over him again. With any luck, no one would examine him closer and determine he had a few extra injuries. I now knew the truth of what we were dealing with.
I went to locate Violet and found her in one of the patient rooms. Rather than investigating as I had assumed she was doing, she sat at her partner’s bedside. This was the woman Violet had said was ill. Upon entering the room, I knew the real story about her sickness. Here was another victim.
Violet’s shoulders stiffened when I approached the bed, but her back was turned to me. The woman must not have heard me enter, or she was too sick to focus. She kept speaking. “You know what’s going to happen to me, Violet. We figured, what two weeks? I’m going to lose it and start trying to eat people.”
“A week,” I corrected, but this was based on one experience. She didn’t know she would die and walk again. Being human, the thought never occurred to her. “There’s only one solution for you.”
Violet jerked around and glared at me. “You don’t know that, Rue, and I told you not to come here.”
I me
t her gaze calmly. “There was someone I know with the fever. I had to…help him.”
Violet stared, and fear colored her expression. She knew as well as I did where her friend would end up. I relented.
“I suppose it’s possible there’s a cure, but I don’t know anything about—” I left off the name of the dead creature. Some nonhuman expert might have more information, but I suspected the phenomenon was much like vampirism. One didn’t cure a vampire. We are not human. We are something else entirely. Period.
Violet focused on her friend. She squeezed her hand and bowed her head as if she were deep in thought. Her friend seemed more ready to face reality. She hugged Violet, and leaned back against her pillows. I studied her face. Her pallor said she was feverish, and the monitors said her heartbeat was too slow. I imagined the liquid in the IV was meant to speed it up, but it wasn’t responding.
“We know the truth,” she said again. “Violet, we have to protect the people. Even if we say nothing, the hospital staff will determine a connection between these cases, but it might be too late for some.”
Violet said nothing. I dropped a hand on her shoulder, and felt the bunching of her muscles. “Violet, I need to talk to you for a minute in the hall.”
She stiffened and then wiggled her shoulders so my hand would drop off. I didn’t attempt to touch her again, not wanting to push it. After a few moments she relented, and we left the room.
As soon as the door shut, Violet whirled to face me, a snarl transforming her pretty face. “Don’t say it!”
Her anger didn’t rile me. “It has to be done. She will need to die before she turns.”
“Before?” Violet croaked. “Before, she’ll still be alive.”
I shrugged. “Then after. You know she’ll hurt others if you don’t kill her.” I sounded like a recording stuck on replay, but what I said was true. Violet’s anger came in her not wanting to face what I was saying, and maybe a little bit in response to the unemotional tone to my voice. I tried to add more concern because it was the right thing to do. “Sweetheart, if you want, I can do it for you. I already helped my friend, and I can do the same for your partner.”
Night Fever (A Rue Darrow Novel Book 3) Page 6