Under a Blood Moon Read online

  “Back home she was the local voodoo queen. She says she’s Marie Laveau’s inheritor and I believe it. She did things, little things, never outside of the law, but things that would turn your stomach. If you crossed her, you never knew if someone you loved would love you the next day. Babies died, businesses closed up, and houses flooded all on the day after Marie cursed you. It was hard living that way, always nervous. It’s why I was glad to come here, away from her and all the others like her.” His fingers twitched around his coffee cup. He looked nervous saying it, as if he expected her to jump out from behind the wall. If it was an act, it was a good one.

  “I don’t know much about voodoo,” I said. “Can you explain that word to me—inheritor?”

  “It’s sort of like being the reincarnation of someone, except you don’t get their personality or their memories, just their power, their essence. What Marie Laveau could do then, Madam Marie can do now, but she’s not the same person,” he answered. Behind him, I caught a glimpse of dark skin. It occurred to me that my phantom woman was back, but I pushed the thought out of my mind, trying to understand more.

  “That would make her incredibly powerful, wouldn’t it?”

  He nodded but I wanted more.

  “Wasn’t Marie Laveau the most powerful Voodoo queen in the history of New Orleans? If Madame Marie had that power, why would she be scared of some great wolf?”

  He started to laugh but caught himself. “Did she tell you tales of Rougarou? Let me guess, it’s coming for her because she did wrong, and it’ll kill her if she doesn’t make the proper sacrifices and prayers.” He gave a disdainful chuckle. “That woman is a thousand times scarier than any man with a wolf’s head I ever met in the swamps.”

  “So you think she’s making it up?” I asked.

  “Oh, yeah.” He looked around, then shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve done some bad things in my life, I’m not pure of heart, but Marie, that woman is scary. She’ll set a dead father against a living daughter for the right price. She’s cagey too, arrested dozens of times but never enough proof. Be careful when you’re around her. If she gets her tools, her powders and her altar, you won’t even know what happened.”

  Remi started to go on, but Danny interrupted him.

  “We’ll take that under advisement. Any chance you can identify these two werewolves?” Danny handed him a print out of Indigo’s security camera.

  “No. I’m sorry, they don’t work here.” He shook his head, but his eyes stayed on the image.

  Chapter Six

  Bad news waited for us at the station: Madame Marie had been released into the care of a mental health facility. Her lawyer was good enough that she got out without providing a coherent statement. Now she was going to be locked into a nice private padded cell at someplace called “Peaceful Rest” for three days. Whether we believed her madness was genuine didn’t make a difference to the state. I wondered how strong the locks were on the doors there.

  I made an attempt at paperwork but finally decided that I wasn’t in the mood. I glanced over at Danny’s desk and saw he was wool gathering too. I took it as invitation.

  “How long has the WPL been in town?” I asked.

  “Not long, about a month before you got here, so seven months maybe? Mr. Canidea actually came and talked to the lieutenant when they set up shop. He didn’t want any ‘misunderstandings’ about the gathering of a large group of werewolves in the city. I don’t think the lieutenant was too impressed,” he said.

  “What is it with this guy and his misunderstandings?” I rolled my eyes.

  “It makes sense to a certain extent. The last wolf pack in the nation was taken apart by the FBI maybe fifteen years ago. They were a biker gang, called themselves “The Pack.” They went from town to town, kidnapping people, making them wolves, selling dope, selling women. It was a real rotten scene. Since then any werewolves that are out there have been very careful not to use the word ‘pack’.”

  “One bad apple spoils the bunch, huh?”

  “Something like that. The WPL isn’t a biker gang, and they wanted to be sure we knew that. That’s why the two werewolves working with Marie doesn’t make any sense. With a powerful alpha male like Canidea around, I wouldn’t think any wolves would stray from the straight and narrow. It makes me wonder how much of Marie’s interview was a put on.”

  “I don’t think anyone’s giving us the whole picture. Marie says ‘werewolf’ and won’t talk about anything else. Meanwhile the werewolves say ‘voodoo’ and won’t talk about anything else. I think we’ll find the truth somewhere in the middle. I just hope there aren’t any more zombies involved.”

  “You and me both.” He looked up at the clock. “I’m going to get out of here early, maybe watch Emma at dance practice. Heck, I might take them all out for ice cream,” Danny smiled. “Sometimes I think it’s a shame you don’t have kids. They help you get your head straight after an ugly day.”

  “I’ll borrow your kids the next time I need a fix, thanks. Enjoy the ice cream.” I waved him out the door. With a sigh, I turned back to the reports. It was only 5 o’clock. There were still three hours of sunlight before I had anyone who could go eat ice cream with me.

  ****

  I decided to walk home from the station. Even after two hours of report writing, I still needed time to think about things. My fingers itched to call Phoebe, my best friend who happened to be both a spirit witch and a Pagan. I wanted to pump her for information about voodoo, to ask her all the things I couldn’t find in books. I’d been a member of the Supernatural Investigative Unit for half a year, but I felt totally lost on this case. Like I only had half of the information I needed to do my job. Gray thunderclouds rolled in matching my mood. I hoped it hadn’t spoiled Danny’s ice cream, but the cloud cover meant vampires were getting extra time outside.

  I took the elevator to my apartment wondering what the night would hold for me. My day at work had been frustrating and long, and I hoped my night would be better. I opened the door to my apartment to find Jakob standing inside waiting for me like an answer to my prayers. He wore dark blue jeans and an open white shirt. His chest was completely free of hair; his nipples so pale I could barely see them. He’d spent the day asleep in my bed and casually barefoot in my home, the thought made me smile. When he pulled me into a bear hug the top of my head fit neatly under his chin. I’d never been in a relationship like this; I really liked it.

  “Welcome home,” he whispered. He kissed me softly.

  I leaned into his caress. I could get used to this, coming home and having him waiting for me. I knew we wouldn’t always end up wrapped in each other’s arms, but it was still better than coming home to an empty apartment. There would be problems. I still hadn’t seen him eat, he had a home of his own, and on and on. When you balanced the good with the bad, what won out in the end?

  I realized his kisses had ended while I was cataloging the reasons why things might not work. He looked me deep in the eyes.

  “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s keeping my kisses from working.”

  “I’m sorry,” I blushed. “Your kisses are amazing but I haven’t had a chance to stop being a detective. I’m analyzing the facts of our relationship instead of enjoying it.”

  He laughed loudly. “Someday I’ll have to tell you about the agony of turning everything into a cost-benefit analysis.” He kissed me softly on the forehead and led me to the couch.

  “So what did you do today?” I asked.

  “I slept.”

  “Did you dream?” I searched my memory for a minute but realized I’d never heard Jakob talk about his dreams. “Do vampires dream?”

  “I do, but I didn’t today.” He stole a kiss. “What did you do?”

  “I got to interview the Bokor who brought up the zombies.” I frowned. “I think I’d have rather spent the day asleep with you though.”

  “It didn’t go well?” he prompted me.

  “By and large it was the worst interview of
my brief career as a detective. She’s either insane or damned good at faking it. We learned almost nothing. In the end, she was sent to a mental health facility. I keep thinking I missed something, some hidden important message.”

  “You’re not missing anything. She did unholy things. There are repercussions for that. Deal with dark magic long enough, and you lose your mind.”

  He sounded judgmental and harsh, but I knew he was right. Still, I hadn’t wanted the conversation to go this way. I tried to think of something light and funny.

  “Oh, and I met my first werewolf politician,” I said, cheerfully.

  “Werewolves?” he sounded less than happy. “I think I’d prefer it if you stuck with werejaguars.”

  “Really? Did you have some bad experience with the WPL?” I asked, curious.

  “No, they came to ask me asking for a grant. I don’t give grants, I invest in businesses. I told them to come back when they had a business plan, and we’d talk about it. They didn’t come back.” He shook his head. “I’m afraid my prejudice against werewolves is much older than that.”

  “Do tell?” I looked into his eyes and was surprised to find them looking so serious.

  “I’d prefer not. Suffice to say they’re prone to violence for the sake of violence. In groups, they can be a terrible force of brutality.” His voice was sad, but he tried to save it with a smile and a quick kiss. I snuggled against his chest and wondered. Jakob had been brutal and violent himself on occasion. I hadn’t seen it, and I hadn’t asked the details but I knew enough to have respect for his capacity for violence. How bad did werewolves have to be to make him avoid them?

  I saw Jakob off to work like a good 1950s housewife, except that he left at eight o’clock at night, and I wasn’t about to spend the evening cleaning house. I flipped through some fashion magazines Anna had left, but they didn’t interest me. I called Phoebe but ended up leaving a message. Finally, I gave up and went to bed. Sometimes the best thing you can say about a day is that it’s over.

  Chapter Seven

  “Mallory, Mallory,” someone was calling, changing my dream from a golden meadow to a gray mist. The someone sounded like a woman with a thick Creole accent, changing my name from a word into a singsong tune. “Wake up and talk with me, Mallory.”

  I woke up, my heart racing in the bitter cold room. I sat upright in bed scanning the room. Jakob slept beside me, home from work, which meant it was morning. My eyes went from him to the other side of the room. My breath caught in my throat when I saw her. She sat on the lounge by the window, a tall aristocratic African woman. Her hair was up in a thick blue tignon, emphasizing the French bone structure in her face. I recognized her from the squad room. She was the woman who had stayed at the edge of my vision all day.

  I could feel the covers slip away from my body as Jakob sat up beside me. He hissed. It was a sound I’d never heard him make before. His eyes fixed on her.

  “You can see her?” I asked without turning my head.

  “Yes,” he said, tight lipped.

  “No one else has been able to see her all day, but you can see her?” I asked, dumbfounded. It made her laugh.

  “There are none so blind as those who will not see, ma chère. Come sit next me, we have much to discuss.” She patted beside her, but Jakob’s arm fell across my shoulders.

  “Non, Monsieur Vampire, I will not hurt your lover,” she said. “What could I do to her, a death witch?” She made a sweeping gesture with her arm, going through the back of the lounge and the curtain behind it.

  I shrugged and turned to Jakob. He nodded his head the tiniest fraction of an inch. His eyes were glowing bright red. I’d never seen that before either. We were going to have a lot to talk about when she left.

  I walked over to the lounge and chose a spot as far away from her as I could get. The room was unbearably cold next to her. I grabbed the throw blanket that felt like it had been dipped in ice. She smiled at me as I bundled up.

  “I am sorry for all this, chère, but it important that we speak. I am Marie Laveau.”

  “Right, of course, I spoke with you today.” I nodded dumbly, remembering the worst interview of my life.

  “No. That bitch, she is an impostor. This is why I came to all this,” she made another grand gesture, “trouble? She is not me, not my inheritor. Voodoo had nothing to do with this. “

  “And so you popped back from the dead to mention this? You’re not here to comment on advances in civil rights or something important?”

  “Civil rights? What does it matter if I can wear my hair down when half my men have been in jail? No, there have been no advances. We have gone backwards not forward. Children having bastard children, addictions.” She shook her head. “Why would I waste my time? My name, though, this is important. She is an impostor, and she must be stopped, you understand?”

  With her heavy accent it was all I could do to keep up with her rapid-fire questions and nod at the right times. Before I realized it was my turn to speak, she had started again.

  “I will come back to you, if you need me. Let’s say you burn a candle to me, no? Then I will come but for this, enough. She is not me. My religion is not the devil it is made out to be. It is not responsible for this madness. Now go back to your lover.” She made a shooing gesture with her hand, brushing me off.

  As I watched, the rest of her disappeared, until the only thing sitting next to me on the lounge was moonlight. The room warmed up, but I was still cold. When I looked at Jakob, he looked like he always had, blond and beautiful, the image of a normal guy. I decided to leave the questions for another night. Instead, I bolted into bed, content to let him hold me tightly until I slept again.

  ****

  When the alarm went off two hours later, I didn’t even attempt to get up. I ripped the cord from the wall and snuggled back into the blankets. I thought I heard Jakob laugh at my early morning angst, but I didn’t bother to investigate. The next time I woke up my head was pounding, and I wasn’t in any mood to go into work. My dreams had been fragmented insanity, with a gothic brick building and werewolves ripping people apart.

  I stumbled downstairs to the kitchen and chugged some sports drink I kept for emergencies. I hated the overly sweet artificial taste, but when magic had sucked the sugar from my veins, it was the perfect fix. I didn’t know if the ghost that had visited me the night before used my power to materialize, but my head sure felt like it. Of course, there wasn’t another death witch I could call for help, and they didn’t cover voodoo priestesses that return from the dead in the books I’d gotten from the SIU library.

  I sat on the cool tile floor hating the throbbing in my head when I realized there was someone I could call: Phoebe. If ghosts were the spirit someone left behind, there was a good chance she’d dealt with them.

  On my way to get the phone, the kitchen clock came clearly in focus. It was already 8:30. I was an hour late for work. With the shutters down, I hadn’t been able to tell. I cursed bitterly and dialed work instead. Danny picked up.

  “You won’t believe the night I had, trust me, it was all voodoo, ghosts, and weirdness,” I said.

  “I’ve told you before Mors, I do not want to know about your kinky sex life,” Danny joked.

  “Funny. I’m calling in sick. Tell the lieutenant I had a supernatural emergency or something.”

  “Sorry, can’t let you do that. You might be able to finagle the afternoon off, but as of this morning Madame Marie has gone missing. We need your expertise on a crime scene.”

  I tried to swallow, but my throat had gone dry. “What kind of a crime scene?”

  “A homicide.” All of the joking had gone out of Danny’s voice.

  I let loose a string of curses, Danny took it silently and then told me he’d be there to pick me up in half an hour. I didn’t thank him as I hung up the phone. I took a fast shower and dressed in my second monochromatic outfit of the week. Thank goodness it was Friday. If I didn’t get some new clothes soon people would be
gin to talk. I was almost giddy at the thought of having two days off. The happiness was enough to get me into the elevator.

  I had left a note for Jakob that said simply “thank you,” but I knew that didn’t cover it. How do you say thank you to someone for making you feel safe when your world has turned upside down? There’s no way to describe the feeling of strong arms holding you safe in the dark. I decided to leave the problem for another time and opened my cell phone to call Phoebe. I got her voice mail as Danny pulled up.

  “Phoebe, it’s me. I need to ask you about ghosts and voodoo, call me. Oh and where are you these days?” Danny only caught the last half of the message and gave me a look. I grunted ‘a friend’ and buckled my seatbelt.

  “Here.” Danny handed me a white bakery box. I opened the lid to find nine perfect donuts nestled together.

  “What did I do to deserve this?” I said, fishing out my favorite, a strawberry-filled donut.

  “Nothing yet, but if the reports are even close to correct you’ll need the calories.” He kept his eyes on the road and his voice grim.

  “Should I ask what happened to the other three?” I joked.

  “Should I ask what happened last night?” he replied.

  “I got a visit from the ghost of the real Marie Laveau. In short, the woman we have in custody is not her inheritor, and voodoo is not the root of our problem. After that I had terrible nightmares.”

  “I ate the other donuts,” he offered in the spirit of total honesty. “Do you think it was really a ghost?”

  “I’ve never seen one before, but yeah.”

  “How’d the stiff take it?” his voice was casual.

  “We didn’t stop to talk about it.” I thought for a minute about his question. Finally I gave up and asked. “Why do you ask?”

  “You’re still new to the life, but people have been known to leave cops when they bring their work home. It’s worse in the SIU than it is for normal cops. I know it’s not the same thing, but lots of guys wouldn’t stay around after something like that,” Danny said with grudging respect in his voice.