“Yeah. If I dry that one out I can fertilize the entire Quarter,” Oscar muttered. “Just ... be careful, Fe. If you run into trouble, don’t be a hero. Come home. Don’t fight a battle you can’t win.”
Ofelia was agitated by the statement, but she held it together ... just barely. “Have I ever not come home?”
He rolled his eyes. “I remember a few late nights when you were a teenager.”
“Yes, but I always came home.”
“I’m not sure it counts if you come home at dawn.”
“Oh, it still counts.”
“If you say so.”
OFELIA ASSUMED SHE WAS GOING TO HAVE to scale the wall at St. Louis Cemetery No. 2. She was familiar with the property — as a teenager she went through a Gothic phase where she toured the cemetery at least once a week — and knew that they locked the door once darkness fell. That was by necessity. Unfortunately, not everyone had the proper respect for the dead. She didn’t begrudge the owners for wanting to protect their investment. Given what she and Sully had planned, though, it was a hindrance.
“What are you doing?” Sully asked as she walked close to the wall, looking for a foothold.
“We have to get over,” she said. “You can boost me, but I need a place where you can put as much of your weight on the wall as possible to pull you over. I don’t have your upper body strength.”
Amusement flitted across his handsome features, which were illuminated thanks to the gas streetlights, creating a haunting ambiance. “That’s kind of ... weird. Sweet, but weird. We don’t need to go over the wall, though.”
Instead of being grateful, Ofelia lodged her hands on her hips. “Um ... if we don’t go over the wall, how are we going to get in? I’m not going to tunnel, no matter how much you beg. I’m fond of you, I really am, but that’s beyond my limit.”
He snickered. “I don’t think tunneling is necessary either.”
She waited for him to expand. When he didn’t, her eyebrows migrated up her forehead. “Okay, well, how are we going to get in if we don’t go over or under?”
“I was thinking we would go through the front gate.” He dug in his pocket until he returned with a keyring. “I have a master.”
She was taken aback. “You just happen to have a master to this cemetery?”
“I have a master to all the cemeteries. You’d be surprised how many times I’ve had to let myself into one of these things after hours. They’re not given out to just anybody, but I happen to be one of the lucky ones.”
“Well, why didn’t you just say that from the beginning?” Now Ofelia felt like an idiot. “I wouldn’t have found it necessary to dress like a thief if I realized we could waltz through the front gate. Now I look like a moron.”
“I happen to think you look amazing.” His gaze appreciatively roamed her legs in the yoga pants. “Seriously. I think you should live in those things.”
“Don’t get any ideas,” she hissed, giving him a small shove toward the gate. “We’re on a case. You can’t have filthy thoughts when you’re on a case.”
“As I’ve told you before, I’m a competent multitasker.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“And, for the record, men can have filthy thoughts no matter what they’re doing. Watching games on television? Filthy thoughts about the cheerleaders. Patrolling Bourbon Street? Filthy thoughts about the drunk tourists. Church? Filthy thoughts about the girl sitting in front of you in the pew.”
“You’re gross.”
“I’m a dude. I can’t help myself.” He chuckled as she stomped toward the gate. “For the record, the filthy thoughts I’m having about you are especially nice.”
“Just keep them to yourself. We will not be entertaining those filthy thoughts tonight.”
“That’s a real shame.”
Sully turned to business once they were safely on the other side of the gate. He locked it — essentially closing them in — but he knew better than to leave the gate open. If drunk tourists (or rowdy locals for that matter) somehow managed to breach the property, no good would come of it. Still, he didn’t like cutting off their avenue of escape if something went wrong. He didn’t see where he had another option.
“Do you know where the family crypt is?” Ofelia asked on a whisper as they started down the pathway.
He nodded. “I do. It’s to the east.” He pointed. “I saw a photo online earlier. It’s garish.”
“They’re rich.”
“That doesn’t mean they need a garish crypt.”
“No, but people like that seem to believe that bigger is always better.”
“You don’t believe that?”
She picked up on the mischievous twinkle in his eye. “It depends on what exactly we’re talking about. When it comes to crypts, I’m going to say that bigger is probably just bigger.”
“This one is bejeweled, too.”
She frowned. “Bejeweled?”
“That’s the best way I can think to describe it. It’s not actually jewels — if there were rubies and diamonds embedded in a crypt wall there’s nothing that could keep people away — but it’s ornate. You’ll have to see it to understand.”
“Well, now you’ve built it up so much I can’t wait.”
They fell into silence after that, both watching the shadows as they passed. In theory, the cemetery should’ve been completely empty. When the paranormal world overlapped with the human, though, anything was possible.
“Holy ... .” Ofelia was the first to break the silence when the Windsor mausoleum came into view. She was absolutely flabbergasted by what she saw.
“That’s the one we’re heading toward,” Sully offered.
“Yeah. I kind of figured.” She shook her head. “Gargoyles, crosses, and angels, huh? That’s ... lovely.”
He snickered at her disdain. “I told you it was over-the-top.”
“No, St. Patrick’s Day on Bourbon Street is over-the-top. This is ... something else. It’s like a monument to wealth. I mean ... do these people honestly believe that they’ll rest easier because they spent more money on their mausoleum?”
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t understand rich people,” she lamented as they closed in on the mausoleum. “I mean, I get wanting to have money. Being poor sucks. There are months where my returns aren’t as high as they could be and I always worry I’m not going to be able to make all my bills. There comes a point when people have too much money, though, and I think the Windsors have hit the line.”
“You don’t like rich people?”
“I don’t dislike them.”
“You sound like you dislike them.”
“It’s more that I can’t find common ground with them,” she clarified. “Technically, we were middle-class when I was growing up. I know there were times my father was terrified that we were going to lose the bar, although he did his best to cover that up.
“The other kids in the Quarter, the ones who had rich parents, used to make fun of Felix and me when we had to take our lunches to school,” she continued. “I guess I grew bitter about it. My mother insisted we go to the richest school in the district. That wasn’t always easy for us because that meant we were often the poorest students at the school ... even though we were far from poor by normal people’s standards.”
“That sucks. At least you got a good education, though.”
“I don’t know that I wouldn’t have gotten a good education from one of the other schools. All my friends were in those other schools. I felt ... isolated.”
“And this crypt reminds you of that isolation?”
She shrugged. “It’s just ... too much.”
“It is,” he agreed, moving closer to her, to the point where she gasped when she shifted and realized his body was practically on top of hers. “You’re perfect the way you are, though. If those other kids tried to make you feel less ... well, that’s on them. They have no idea what they were missing.”
Ofelia’s mouth ran
dry at his proximity. She could feel his breath on her face. There they were, about to break into the tomb of one of the richest families in the area, and all she could think was that she wanted to kiss him senseless. It was a ridiculous reaction, and yet her breath hitched in her chest all the same.
“Ofelia.” His voice was soft.
“Yeah?”
“You’re having filthy thoughts and we have a job to do,” he said, straightening.
She glared at his grin. “I’m not having filthy thoughts. You’re having filthy thoughts.”
“If that’s your story.” He was still chuckling as he approached the mausoleum. He knew she was behind him because he could hear her cursing under her breath. He took the opportunity to kneel in front of the door and use his phone as a flashlight. “This lock is relatively new. It’s going to take me a few minutes to get past it.” He dug in his pocket for his lock-picking set. “You might want to get comfortable.”
She rolled her eyes and used her hip to nudge him aside. “I don’t want to even know why you have that thing. You’re a cop and yet you have the tools of a criminal. What’s that about?”
“Sometimes they come in handy.”
“Yes, well, do you know what else comes in handy?” She lifted her hands, displaying ten glowing fingertips. “Sometimes magic really is the easiest way.”
Before he could say anything, she moved her left hand over the lock and muttered something he couldn’t quite make out under her breath. She tugged on the handle with her right hand and the door sprung open with little effort. “See.” She puffed out her chest. “Maybe you needed me after all.”
“Oh, I never doubted I needed you,” Sully said as he stood, his fingers itching to brush the lock of hair that had fallen over her forehead away. “If you weren’t here, it would make the filthy thoughts harder to conjure. You’re great for my multitasking practice.”
“Ugh. You are ... so full of yourself.”
“Yes, we make a great couple because we have that in common.”
“Just ... focus on the crypt.”
The fact that Ofelia was flustered settled Sully. Her presence made his skin hum, to the point where she essentially took over his brain. On one hand, he wasn’t sure that was a healthy reaction. On the other, she was so intoxicating she made him feel warm and giddy. He couldn’t explain his reaction to her. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to.
“Let’s see what we’ve got in here, huh?” He walked through the door first. He wasn’t expecting an attack. If it happened, though, he wanted to be the one who took the brunt of the blow. “Stick close.”
“It’s a mausoleum,” she pointed out reasonably. “It’s not as if I can wander too far away.”
Once inside, Sully engaged the lights. Because the Windsor family essentially had money to burn, they’d spared no expense. That included running electricity to the building.
“Oh, this is just ridiculous.” Ofelia rolled her eyes when she caught sight of the marble benches. “I mean ... who even sees them, let alone sits on them? What a waste.”
“They’re ostentatious. I think we’ve already agreed on that.” Sully narrowed his eyes as he started reading the plates on the walls. “Here we go. Robert Windsor.” He moved to the slot in question and ran his eyes over the vault. “This is sealed.”
She moved with him, frowning when she realized what they were dealing with. “I thought maybe he would be in a sarcophagus or something.”
“That’s what I was hoping for.”
“I guess we’re not that lucky.” She sucked in a breath. “I can open this with magic. I mean ... if you want me to do it, I’m capable.”
“Can you close it again?”
“Yes.”
“Will they be able to tell that we’ve been inside?”
“They shouldn’t be able to tell. I can’t a hundred percent guarantee that, though.”
Sully tilted his head to the side, considering. “Screw it. Let’s do it. If there’s fallout from it, I’ll take the blame.”
Ofelia wasn’t certain she was comfortable with that, but she nodded. “Okay.” She concentrated on the slot, her eyes momentarily glowing green and causing Sully to jolt. “Here we go.”
He was fascinated watching her work. She was powerful, and he was certain she could crush him if she turned her attention to that endeavor. That wasn’t her way, of course. She didn’t flaunt what she could do. Still, she was secure in who she was, which was incredibly appealing. At the same time, she couldn’t recognize the effect she had on people.
She was magnetic ... and magical ... and had no qualms about opening a crypt that might contain a decomposing body. Essentially, she was perfect.
“It’s open,” she announced, jolting him out of his reverie.
“Great.” Sully gripped the sliding tray that held the coffin and tugged. It moved easily but let off a terrific squeal. “Let’s hope nobody is outside and heard that,” he said ruefully.
Ofelia stood close as he pulled another key from his pocket. This one was shorter, squatter. “Is that a casket key?” she asked, surprised.
“It is.”
“Another master key?”
“Do you want an explanation or for me to open the casket?”
“There’s a question I never thought I would hear,” Ofelia mumbled, although she gestured toward the coffin. “Go nuts.”
Sully inserted the key and slid her a sidelong look. “You might want to stand back. If he’s in here, it’s not going to be pleasant.”
“I can handle it. I’m stronger than I look.”
“I have no doubt about that.” As a surprise to both of them, he leaned in and pressed a very soft kiss to her lips. It wasn’t exactly romantic, and yet it was desperately intimate all the same. “Here it comes.”
Her eyes went wide as he opened the casket, her heart hammering because he never moved his eyes from her face. The kiss wasn’t expected — they were about to look at a dead body, for crying out loud — and yet it had been somehow perfect. It wasn’t overbearing, full of tongues and neediness. That would come later. She had no doubt about that. This had simply been quiet, and somehow sweet. She couldn’t wrap her head around it.
“Well, crap,” Sully lamented, finally dragging his eyes to the casket. “I guess that answers that question.”
Ofelia followed his gaze, frowning. “It’s empty.”
“It is,” he agreed, moving his hand to the satiny cushion of the pillow. “I’m not an expert, but I’m pretty sure there’s never been a body in here.”
Ofelia nodded in agreement. “There’s no scent. If there was a body in proximity to this casket, we would still be able to pick up a scent. It’s distinctive.”
“Yeah.” Sully rolled his neck and closed the top, thoughtful. “So ... what does that mean? Is he the ghoul?”
“That would be my guess. Although ... .” She trailed off and focused on another vault. This one wasn’t sealed. On a whim, she strode to it and pulled it open. Inside was another sliding tray and coffin. She used her magic to pull it out. “Give me your key.”
Rather than allow her to open the casket on her own, he did it for her, ignoring the impatient look she shot him as he pushed open the top. It, too, was empty.
“Who is this supposed to be?” Sully asked as he shifted his eyes to the wall. There was no plaque. “I don’t get it.”
“I don’t either.” Ofelia popped her lips as she thought. “It makes no sense.”
“Could it just be an extra casket?”
“Maybe but ... .” She didn’t get a chance to finish, because at that exact moment the lights died and the room was plunged into darkness.
“What the ... ?” Sully swiveled quickly, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. He sensed another presence. This one was malevolent. “Ofelia, get behind me.”
She didn’t listen. She was too focused on the glowing yellow eyes standing in front of what she was certain was the only exit.
No, they def
initely weren’t alone ... and now they were in deep trouble of another variety.
Sixteen
Ofelia wasn’t a shrinking violet. She’d been in more fights than she could count, and she was prepared.
“Back up,” she ordered, her hands igniting red, flames licking her skin.
Sully wanted to ask if it hurt — it was fire, after all, it should be unbearable — but he was too busy preparing himself for battle, his fingers elongating into claws as he readied himself to shift.
The creature’s features were difficult to make out. The lack of light only allowed for Ofelia to detect the outline of a hulking frame. It was the eyes that told her where the creature was located. Everything else was up for interpretation.
“You don’t belong here,” the creature rasped, his voice rough and unnatural. “This is my domain.”
“The mausoleum?” Ofelia used her hip to push against Sully. “Get behind me.”
He was incredulous. “Um ... no. You get behind me.”
“I’m the one with magic hands,” she reminded him, waving them for emphasis.
“And I’m the cop. Besides, it’s not as if I’m helpless.” As if to prove it, his eyes glowed feline as his hands finished shifting. “I’ll protect you. Get behind me.”
“No way.” Ofelia was having none of that. “I can protect myself. You need to get behind me.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Oh, it’s going to happen.” On impulse, she pulsed the fire toward the creature. Unfortunately, she’d been so worried about what Sully was doing she hadn’t realized it had shifted toward the east. The magic only singed an arm, causing the monster to growl.
“Stop messing around with it,” Sully ordered, his impatience on full display. “If you’re going to do that, then you aim to kill. Don’t give it a chance to come after you. There’s nothing worse than a wounded animal.” As if to prove it, he lashed out with a claw and caught the approaching figure across the face, causing it to howl.
“Oh, how is that any better than what I did?” Ofelia complained, agitation practically rolling off her in waves. “That was hardly a death blow.”
Witch Confidential Page 15