by HELEN HARDT
Do not give this to a human baby. Only a were or half-werewolf baby.
Love and Hugs,
Lucy
“Baby?”
I handed the note to Dante and then sank my head into my hands.
His hands were warm and soothing on my shoulders. “Has the child come back?”
I shook my head.
“I don’t know much about shifters, but maybe this will help the baby.”
I lifted my head up and met Dante’s dark gaze. “She was transferred to pediatrics. I assumed they were taking good care of her there. I haven’t heard otherwise.”
“All right.”
“Right now…what about Lucy? She’s been attacked by rogue vampires.”
“We don’t know that for sure.”
I said nothing. I knew.
I knew for sure.
“We can go talk to someone at a voodoo shop,” he said. “Find out what these herbs are for.”
“We already know what they’re for,” I said. “But there is someone I need to talk to. I need to go back to Claiborne Bridge.”
“No way,” Dante said, shaking his head vigorously. “You’re not safe there.”
“It’s broad daylight— Oh!”
Julian Gabriel appeared in my living room.
“Dad, you can’t just—”
“I’m sorry, Dante, but this is important. I suppose you’re wondering where I was last night, why I didn’t follow you when you took the girl to the hospital.”
“It had crossed my mind.”
“I found a way to waylay the vampires who were stalking you and River.”
“Ha!” I said. “I told you it was the vampires.”
“Yes. After they attacked the wolf—”
“Ha again!” I said.
“Then you know.”
“We—Erin—suspected,” Dante said.
“When the wolf went down, she shifted, but I was able to chase the vampires—”
“Vampires?” I nodded. “So there was definitely more than one.”
“Yeah.”
“That makes sense,” Dante said. “I can’t imagine a wolf would leave her flank exposed if she was fighting just one person.”
“She wouldn’t,” Julian continued. “She had a vampire flat on his back and was preparing to strike his neck, when another vampire appeared and stabbed her in the side. Anyway, I managed to chase the vampires away before they saw her shift.”
“How?” Dante asked.
“I have a few ghostly tricks up my sleeve. Remember, most vampires think ghosts don’t exist. I doubt they’ll fall for it again, though, so we’ll need to take special precautions next time.”
“Next time?” The words sounded like they’d come from someone other than me. This whole story had numbed me.
“Well, yeah, Erin,” Dante said. “We still have to find my dad’s body.”
“Your mother and the wolf found it for you,” Julian said. “It’s buried where the wolf was standing. Once I stood over the area, I knew.”
“I thought you had no connection to the physical body.” Dante scratched his forehead.
“I don’t. But I still have a connection to your mother’s energy, and I trust it. Her essence was strong over that area. And then the wolf—”
“Her name is Lucy,” I said.
“Yes. I’m sorry. She’s a friend of yours, Erin?”
“My best friend. Though I really don’t know her at all, apparently.”
“You do know her. Just as you know Dante. She was only keeping her true self from you because she had to.”
“How do you know that?”
“He’s right, baby. We have to hide in plain sight. It’s just our way. We don’t have a choice.”
“But she’s my—”
“She didn’t have a choice,” Dante said again in the commanding tone that made my knees weaken.
I sighed and nodded. “Still…”
“I know it hurts, baby. She didn’t do it to hurt you. Not anymore than I did.”
I nodded again. I did get it. Didn’t stop it from hurting, just as it did when I found out what Dante was.
“If you can learn to accept me, you can learn to accept her.”
Once more, I nodded. What else was there to do? “At least she’s going to be okay.”
“We’re all glad about that,” Julian said. “River seems to have quite strong feelings for her.”
“They only went on one date,” I said.
“Vampires tend to know quickly if a connection is there,” Julian said. “Right, Dante?”
“Not that I have a lot of experience, but I’d say yes.” Dante smiled.
“Can you call River?” I asked. “Get an update on Lucy?”
Dante nodded and pulled out his cell phone.
“And then we’re going to Claiborne Bridge.” I ran upstairs to change before he could argue.
Workout clothes and my best jogging shoes. If I had to run, I was going to be ready.
“Ah, Mr. Vampire, and I see you’ve brought a ghost with you.”
“I might have known,” Dante said.
“Of course. I see all. What brings you under the bridge today?”
I stepped forward. “It was my idea. What can you tell me about”—I pulled Lucy’s note out of my purse—“feverfew and borage leaves?”
“What can you give me in return?”
I rummaged in my purse while Dante rolled his eyes. I pulled out a twenty. “It’s yours after you tell me what you know.”
“Feverfew is a part of the daisy family. Its flowers resemble daisies.”
“I’m not looking to spruce up my garden, Bea,” I said. “I want to know how it’s used medicinally.”
“Mostly for headaches. Sometimes for digestive problems.”
“What about fever?”
“Oh? Well, yes. It’s a common holistic treatment for fever.” She laughed. “In dogs.”
“What about wolves?”
“Of course. Dogs and wolves come from the same lineage.”
I gulped. “And borage leaves?”
She cackled. “In humans or in wolves?”
I cleared my throat. “Wolves.”
“Borage will also calm fevers. And it’s used to help nursing mothers with their milk supply. Nursing bitches, that is.”
I’m a horny little bitch.
Oh, Lucy. All this time, had she been trying to tell me something?
I shook my head to clear it. “Are these herbs safe for babies?”
“Babies? Or pups?” She cackled again.
“Well…er…both.”
“Perfectly safe.”
“What’s the proper dosage?”
“I didn’t treat a lot of wolves in my practice,” she said. “But in humans, both are nontoxic in most dosages. Just don’t give the feverfew if the patient is allergic to any flowers in the daisy family.”
Did werewolves have allergies? Baby Bianca was half human, if her mother was to be believed. Lucy obviously believed her, or she wouldn’t have left me this werewolf remedy.
Bea held out her hand.
I pushed the twenty-dollar bill into it. “Where can I find these herbs?”
“Any magick shop in the Quarter should stock them. Why do you need them?”
“No reason.”
“Fine. Have it your way.” She turned to Dante. “You’ve been to a graveyard.”
“What business is that of yours?”
“The dark presence. I can feel it.”
“Right now?” he asked.
“No. But you encountered it recently. In a graveyard.”
Dante rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You do.”
“What can you tell us?” From Julian.
“What can you give me?”
“I’m a ghost. I don’t have anything.”
She nodded to Dante. “He does. So does she.”
“How about you tell us, a
nd I don’t have my nephew arrest you for loitering?”
Bea cackled, rolling her eyes. “You’re a funny ghost, eh? I’ll tell you what I know out of respect for your kind. It’s not a demon, as I already told these two. It’s something new.”
“Vampires?” I asked.
“No. Vampires are mortal creatures. This is an energy. A dark energy.”
“The ice pick in the back of my neck last night?” Dante said.
“That’s not the presence. That’s something warning you away.”
“Dad?”
“It wasn’t me. I was outside guarding.”
Dante rubbed his neck again. “Mom…”
“Possibly,” Julian said, “though I don’t understand how.”
“His mother has been gone how long?” Bea asked.
“Twenty-five years,” Julian said.
“Unlikely it was her,” Bea agreed.
“But I saw her!” Dante said.
Bea’s eyes widened. “You saw a twenty-five-year-old ghost?”
“In the cemetery. She guided me. She didn’t communicate, though, other than pointing.”
“Fascinating,” Bea said. “And you recognized her?”
“Yes. It was my mother.”
“This is worse than I feared,” Bea said.
“What do you mean?” My skin chilled.
“For a ghost who left her body twenty-five years ago to appear, the situation is dire indeed. Be careful, all three of you. All is not what it seems.”
“You’re speaking strangely again,” I said. “Like when you quoted Shakespeare the other day.”
“Me? Quote Shakespeare?” She laughed.
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah. You did.”
“So I did.” She held out her hand.
“We’re done here for now,” Julian said. “She’s no more help to us.”
Bea’s eyes took on an unnatural gaze, as if she were looking through us to something beyond. “‘There are things known, and there are things unknown, and in between are the doors of perception.’”
I looked to Dante, who shook his head.
“Aldous Huxley,” Julian said.
“Who?” Dante asked.
“He wrote A Brave New World, a dystopian novel. That’s his quote.”
“I read that in high school,” I said. “I don’t remember that line.”
“It’s not in that book. It’s from a lesser-known book called The Doors of Perception.”
“Very good,” Bea said. “A well-read vampire. Perhaps, then, you’ve read the most important work of all.”
Chapter Eight
Dante
The ice pricked my neck once again.
“Dante,” my father said, his voice low and urgent. “Take Erin and run!”
I didn’t stop to think. I grabbed Erin. “We need to go. Now.” I entwined my fingers through hers.
My heart thundered, and we ran toward the parking lot where her car was. She kept up well, even surging ahead of me a few times.
Once we were safe inside the car, she turned to me. “What was that about?”
“I’m not sure, but my father was serious. Start the car and get us out of here.”
She didn’t ask questions. She revved the engine, and soon we were on the road.
“Maybe the Claiborne vamps. Then again, he didn’t sense them last night, so it was most likely something else.” The dark presence. Just the thought of Bea’s words sent shivers through me. “The vamps don’t usually come out during the day, Riv says.”
When we got to Erin’s home, I ushered her out of the car and to the door as quickly as I could. When we were safe inside, I breathed a little easier.
“You need to sleep,” I said. “You have work tonight.”
“You were up all night too,” she said. “You need to sleep as well.”
She was right, but I wouldn’t sleep at all until I’d talked to my father. “Go ahead up. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Dante…”
“Please, baby. I need to speak to my dad and figure this out.”
“Then I’ll stay with you.” Her face split with a giant yawn.
“Go to bed, love. I’ll come get you if I find anything out.”
She finally relented and headed upstairs.
“Dad?” I said.
Nothing.
“Dad?”
Then he appeared.
“What was that about?”
“Honestly? I’m not sure. But I felt something, the same thing I felt that day in the restaurant when I warned you to leave.”
“Before I could see you?”
“Yes. Bea is right. There’s something dark that has attached itself to you. No. Attached isn’t the right word because it’s not always around. But I can certainly feel it when it’s here.”
“It’s gone now?”
“Yes.”
“Was it at the graveyard last night?”
“I don’t think so. Not that I could tell, anyway. I think Erin is right. It was the vampires last night. If it had been this dark thing, I would have known. I feel certain. And…”
“And what?”
“If your mother was truly there, she would have known too.”
“Bea said something big was happening if a twenty-five-year-old ghost had come out.”
“Yes, and though I’m not sure how much Bea truly knows, what she says seems to make a lot of sense.”
“She seems pretty nuts sometimes.”
“I’m wondering if she’s a medium.”
“Huh?”
“You and I both agree that she’s not the type to go around quoting Shakespeare or Aldous Huxley. I’m wondering if she’s channeling them in some way.”
I lifted my brow.
“I know it’s a lot to take, but she seems to be warning us of something. More important than finding out what this thing is that has targeted you, is finding out why.”
“Okay.”
“And to figure it out, Dante, we’re going to need to be straight with each other.”
“Meaning?” I didn’t like where this was going. At. All.
“You need to tell me what happened while you were in captivity. And I will do the same.”
I’d been electrocuted, clamped in unimaginable places, tortured with burning candles…
I lay limp, my wrists and ankles bound once more.
I’d kept my promise to myself. I hadn’t screamed. Hadn’t begged for mercy.
It had required the last of my strength.
My head had rolled to the side, saliva dripping from my lips.
If only death would come, free me from this madness, this pure hellacious existence.
But death never came.
I didn’t truly wish it, didn’t want my life to end, but sometimes, it seemed the only way.
The only way to conquer what had become of me.
A click of a key in the lock. A dreaded sound, but I was too weak, too used, to move. To even cringe.
Then she entered.
“Look at me, Dante.”
I couldn’t. Couldn’t move my head.
“Look at me, or I’ll bring them back.”
No. No more torture. In painful agony, I turned my head until I was looking up into her masked face. Her evil blue eyes.
The light flickered above me, and I squinted.
“I’m going to show you something, Dante.” She held up a large square block of wood painted red. “What color is this?”
I didn’t answer. We’d played a variation of this game before.
“Answer me. What color is this?”
“Orange,” I said, my voice hoarse.
She laughed like a maniac. “Don’t play games with me. Tell me the color.”
“Red,” I rasped.
“What if I tell you it’s blue?”
I said nothing, just attempted to swallow the dryness in my throat.
“Answer me, Dante. What if I tell you it’s blue?”
“It’s
red. You know it as well as I do.”
“No. I think it’s blue.”
I stayed silent. I knew what was coming, and though I wanted to mentally prepare myself, I was still recovering from the morning’s torture.
She moved backward and opened the door, allowing one of her goons to reenter. He was masked, as always. Too much of a coward to let me see his face. I tried not to inhale. The acrid scent of garbage was too much to take.
In his hand was the cattle prod. More electricity.
No.
Just no.
He fired it up, a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“Tell me, Dante, what color is this?” She held up the red block once more.
I didn’t answer.
“You will answer, or I’ll have him prod you.”
I drew in a breath.
Strength. Give me strength. I called on my father, my uncle, my grandfather, pleaded for their strength.
I said nothing.
The electricity surged through me, reducing every cell in my body to tiny careening pellets ricocheting off my organs.
But I’d promised myself.
Never would I cry out again.
Urine trickled from me onto the platform below. Humiliating, yes, but what could I do?
“Pissing yourself again?” The goon laughed. “All you need to do is tell her what color it is.”
“It’s fucking red,” I said through clenched teeth.
She shook her head slowly.
And again, my body seized as the current traveled through me.
“Again, what color, Dante?”
“Red,” I whispered, the word barely registering above the electric ringing in my ears.
Surge.
Surge.
Surge.
My eyes rolled upward, and saliva trickled from my lips once more. My body was burning, imploding upon itself in a molten mess.
Be strong. You’re a Gabriel vampire. Be fucking strong, Dante!
“What color, Dante?”
“Red.”
Surge.
“Red.”
Surge.
“Red.”
I lay listless, bound, hardly able to speak.
“What color, Dante?”
I opened my eyes, squinting.
The block was red.
No.
It had turned. It had metamorphosed.
Unreal. How had this happened?