Gathering Deep (17 page)

Eighteen

Odane's words had me so unsettled as I pulled into the traffic of Canal Street, I mis-shifted. The clutch ground out its displeasure, and angry with myself, at Mama Legba for not trusting me, and for my mother for being what she was, I slammed the car into a higher gear and shot off.

I knew Mama Legba had a point. We didn't know anything about these visions, and with the other things that had happened—the icy fingers trying to strangle me, the
way something had messed with Lucy when she tried to
dreamwalk at Mama Legba's, and the wind that had scattered the contents of Thisbe's box all over the floor—I knew there was a good chance that there was something more to what I was seeing. But we were running out of time.

“I need to look at the other things in that box,” I said, my voice tight with impatience.

“Good luck with that,” Lucy said. “Mama Legba isn't going to let you anywhere near that box again.” To my surprise, she sounded as frustrated about it as I felt.

“You don't sound like you agree with her,” I said carefully, glancing to see her reaction.

Lucy frowned. “It's not that I don't think she and Piers are right to be worried about Thisbe. I probably know better than anyone how dangerous she is. I mean, I have some very vivid memories of her killing Armantine to get what she wanted, and I don't doubt she'd do it again … ”

“But?” I asked, prodding her to go on when she stopped.

“But, I think you understand that, too,” she told me. “I think you've probably lost more than any of us, and you still have the most to lose in all of this.”

I knew just how much she'd lost, so I couldn't quite speak through my surprise at her statement.

“I lost Alex,” she continued, “and that about killed me, but I have to believe that I didn't lose him for good. I know that whatever happens in this life, he wants me to be happy and that eventually we'll meet again. But, Chloe, you didn't just lose your mom; you lost who you thought she was.”

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, but I couldn't speak through the tightness in my throat. Because Lucy had nailed it. She understood.

“I can't even begin to understand what you're going through, but I think that you wanting to stop Thisbe makes you stronger than any of us. Mama Legba and Piers are worried about you because they saw firsthand what Thisbe did to you. I saw it too, but I think something has happened to you since then. I watched them cut off your hair, and I don't think I could have been that brave or selfless. Not without a lot of convincing and maybe someone to hold me down.

“And I see the determination in your eyes when we talk about finding Thisbe and stopping her. You aren't the person you were before all this happened, and I'm willing to bet on you being the one that comes out on top.”

I let out a long, shaking breath. I'd been frustrated, sure enough, but I don't think I'd
really
realized what it meant to not have Piers believe in me until Lucy handed me her trust like a gift, whole and unsolicited.

“Thank you,” I whispered, because it was all I could say.

“Don't thank me,” Lucy told me. “Prove me right.”

There was a tone in her voice that had me glancing over at her. “What do you mean?”

“I'm saying that I can't have lost Alex for nothing. I need to see Thisbe stopped for his sake as much as my own.”

I waited, knowing there was more to what she was getting at, but Lucy seemed to be wrestling with something internally. Finally, she took a determined breath. “I think it's time you saw Thisbe's tomb.”

St. Louis Number Two has crypts that date back to the early 1800s. Like most cemeteries in New Orleans, it's usually filled with groups of tourists during the day, but it closes well before dark. After that, it's not really safe to go wandering around, because the dangers it's filled with have nothing to do with the dead.

Even during the day, the city's cemeteries are about my least favorite place to be. Once you get inside their heavy walls, the tombs rise up on all sides and it feels like they might topple over on you at any moment. The narrow pathways are often uneven, and there's usually a sort of hush that falls over the whole place, like everybody's afraid of waking whatever might sleep there.

Lucy had her arms wrapped around herself as she shuffled through the alleyways, trying to remember which route would lead us to the tomb where Thisbe had kept Alex. But as we rounded a corner, I knew which one it was before she even pointed it out. Where every other tomb in the cemetery was worn from the years of rain and wind and coated with a century's worth of dirt and grime, the tomb at the end of the last row we'd turned down was a brilliant white. It was covered in carved symbols that hadn't been touched by time, and it didn't even have the dark waterline that the others had to mark where Katrina had invaded.

“Is that it?” I said, knowing her answer even before she gave me a silent nod of her head.

The tomb wasn't any bigger than the monuments around it, but its thick columns made it seem fancier than the dull, aged marble of its neighbors. Rather than having the flat roofline of most crypts, this particular tomb was topped with an obelisk.

I took a step toward it, but Lucy made a sort of mewing sound that had me hesitating. “What? I thought you wanted me to do this.”

“I did … I mean, I
do.
We have to figure out what Thisbe's up to, but I saw what happened when you touched that news clipping. I'm just a little nervous about what might happen this time.”

“You want to go wait in the car?”

She frowned for a second, like she was considering it, but then she finally shook her head. “No. If you go all glassy-eyed and start calling up a hurricane, somebody's going to have to stop you.”

I couldn't stop the huff of laughter that escaped when I pictured skinny Lucy trying to hold back a hurricane. “Okay then,” I said, grateful that she was still willing to stand behind me.

Slowly, I approached the tomb with my hand stretched out in front of me. I hesitated only for a moment before pressing my palms to the marble. It was warm from the heat of the day, and the moment my skin brushed against it, the sun went dark.

My skirts brushed against my legs as I pushed the heavy stone from the door and stepped into the coolness of the tomb's interior. The beam from the flashlight in my hand swept across the surface of the walls, revealing the charms that I'd carved bit by bit over the years.

A lifetime before.

I let the flashlight glide over the walls and felt pride and satisfaction heat my blood. I'd built this monument years ago for Augustine, and since then, I'd inscribed it with every bit of magic I'd come across in my travels. Every charm I'd learned and every spell I'd ever collected to summon the one I loved and keep what belonged to me safe were on these walls. At some point, it stopped being just for him and became a testament to my own power, my own life.

I traced one of the markings on the wall near me, a symbol that I'd learned in some tropical jungle years ago meant to ward off energies that mean a body harm. Another right above my head was a rune for resurrection that a powerful sorcerer in Egypt had taught me. He'd spent a whole afternoon showing me the order I was supposed to trace those lines, because he thought it would get me into his bed. And because he didn't believe I could ever use the power.

Men always thought they had the power, but most were all the same. All it took was a slow, inviting smile and they were yours. I never did get into his bed, and he never got out of it—not once I was done with him.

But the rune hadn't been strong enough. Augustine never came.

Finally, I let the beam of the flashlight fall on an altar-like table against the far wall. After all these years, the French boy's body was still there, still barely breathing.

I approached him with a sort of reverence for the sacrifice the boy had made. Not that he had a choice. That girl—what had her name been?

It didn't matter. That girl had sealed this boy's fate the minute she'd walked through my door and handed him over all in the name of love.

Setting the flashlight on his chest, I aimed the beam of light so I could focus on what needed done. Then I took out my knife and unfastened the locket from around my neck. I let my mouth form the words I'd said so many times before as I sliced into the skin near his shoulder, watching the blood well.

The dark liquid seeping slowly from the wound was barely enough to coat the locket, and when I placed it around my neck, I could hardly feel the warmth of the power it contained.

Ignoring the shiver of worry that passed through me, I dipped two fingers into the blood pooling around the wound and called on the energy within it as I traced over the lines of my face. But the flash of heat I usually felt when the spirit responded was barely a kiss of warmth, and I knew that the connection the boy gave me to the source of all life and power wasn't working as it once had.

Even though I could feel the power in his blood transforming me, taking back the years that had gone by since last I'd visited him, I knew it wouldn't last for long. Not like it once had, when the energy I took from him could push back decades and hold off the years.

I should have seen this coming.

Panic raced through me, and I pressed my hands to the chest beneath the red string. Waiting for the slow rise and fall. Willing him to keep breathing still.

Until I could find another way.

I didn't know how much more time he had left to give me, and I didn't know how much longer I could wait in this skin.

Augustine hadn't come back yet, and I knew that he would have if he could have by now. Something was stopping him, or rather, someone.

Roman. I'd killed him three times already, and still he'd come back. That couldn't be a coincidence, and no single soul could have that much luck. There had to be a connection between him reappearing and Augustine's absence, but in all those lifetimes I still hadn't figured out what it was.

And now I was running out of time.

I'd figure it out, though. I would find a way to live a bit longer, to find Augustine. To make sure Roman was destroyed once and for all.

It was early afternoon by the time we got out of the cemetery and made our way back to Le Ciel. I gripped the steering wheel so Lucy wouldn't see how my hands were still trembling. I hadn't called up a hurricane or anything, but my muscles were achy and sore, like I'd just run for miles. Seeing Thisbe's life through her eyes was unsettling enough, but this time seeing her thoughts and feeling the desperation she felt to survive and the fury she felt when she thought of Roman had left me shaken and unstable. It reminded me too much of that part of myself that stretched and purred anytime I brushed against any sort of power.

“It was definitely more recent than the others—I was holding a flashlight—but I got the sense that what I was seeing still happened a while ago. She was starting to worry that the power she was taking from Alex was getting weaker, and she was scared. She knew she needed another plan, because she was convinced that Roman was connected to Augustine's disappearance somehow.”

“So it's not all about Augustine?”

I glanced over at her. “No, it's definitely about Augustine, but I think maybe there's more going on than we first thought.”

Lucy was silent for a long moment, like she was thinking things through. “Does that mean Roman could come back again?”

“Thisbe thought it was possible.”

“Could he
already
have come back?” Lucy asked nervously.

“I don't know. It might be why my momma got the job at Le Ciel, though. Maybe she was waiting for him to turn up again?”

I took the off-ramp that led away from the highway and out toward the plantation. Lucy was quiet on the other side of the car.

After a few minutes, Lucy turned to me. “But if Thisbe's trying to get back at Roman, and Roman keeps coming back somehow, why would she need this Baron Samedi guy?”

I frowned, trying to think it through. “Maybe she wants something else from him?'”

“Like what?” Lucy said, letting out an overwhelmed-sounding sigh.

“Maybe she wants him to take Roman and keep him on the other side of the divide for good. Maybe she just wants Samedi to help her get Augustine. It's hard to know why anyone would want to summon him. But we have a lead, right? We can start with this Augustine. If we can find out exactly what happened to him, maybe we'll understand more.”

“Right. I guess we can start by looking at those plantation registers.”

“Byron is going to hate that,” I said, thinking of how pissy he'd been when we talked to him the day before.

Lucy shrugged. “I'll bring him some coffee. He'll get over it.”

Nineteen

We were almost back to Le Ciel when I finally gathered enough courage to say what I'd been thinking about ever since I walked out of Mama Legba's shop. “I don't think I should stay with your folks anymore.”

“What?” Lucy asked, turning to me in surprise. “Why not?”

“I'm not stupid enough to ignore what Mama Legba said. There's a good chance that Thisbe has more of a link to me than we thought. I could still be dangerous, Lucy.” And there was one other thing I couldn't quite make myself say out loud—if Thisbe had worried about her old skin not being enough, maybe she would be looking for a new skin. She'd already tried mine on for size once, and I wasn't sure anything would stop her from doing it again.

I could feel Lucy staring at me, but I wasn't brave enough to take my eyes off the road and see what she was thinking.

After a long minute, she reached out and touched my shoulder. Her voice was steady and full of conviction when she finally spoke. “I don't believe that, Chloe. I think if Thisbe wanted to use you to get to me or my family, she would have by now.”

“Lucy, you saw what happened in Mama Legba's shop. That's not the first time I've felt like I rustled up some sort of power, and I didn't have any control over whatever was happening. And what about what happened the other day to you, when you tried to dreamwalk?” I pressed. “You're saying that wasn't something to worry about?”

“I don't know,” Lucy admitted weakly, and I knew she could see my point. “Where would you even go?”

“I could move back into Piers's place,” I told her, shrugging off the unease I felt when I thought about letting myself into his apartment after the way he'd sounded on the phone. I wasn't sure how he'd react to coming home and finding me there.

“You can't stay there alone!” Lucy huffed. “What if that's what Thisbe wants? Maybe these visions are her way of pushing you away from the people who want to protect you and help you?”

“He'll be back in a couple of days,” I said.

“No way,” Lucy told me, crossing her arms. “If you want to move into his place once he's back, fine, but until then you're staying with someone. If you don't want to stay with me, move in with Mama Legba.”

But that was the last thing I wanted to do.

When we finally began to approach the heavy gates that welcomed visitors to Le Ciel, I realized something was wrong. The road, usually empty except for an occasional tour bus or car, was littered with vehicles—police cars with their lights flashing and news vans with their doors open. People buzzed around like carrion birds looking for dinner.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as I pulled up slowly to the place where an unmarked car blocked the drive. Like a good responsible driver, I stopped to wait for clearance to pass.

“What do you think's going on?” Lucy asked as she leaned forward, as though getting closer to the windshield would help her see.

“I don't know,” I said.

The thickset deputy who was blocking the main gate motioned for me to pull over. Leading with his stomach and taking his good old time about it, the deputy swaggered over to my car. Mirrored lenses covered his eyes when he leaned down and rested his elbow on my open window. My stomach went tight, but I made sure to keep my hands on the steering wheel—right where he could see them.

“Sorry, folks. Grounds are closed today. You're going to have to turn around and head home.”

“I live here,” Lucy said, leaning over to speak across me.

His caterpillar eyebrows raised above the mirrored lenses. “That so?” He turned to me. “What about you?”

“She's staying with us right now,” Lucy said, before I could even answer.

With those mirrored glasses, I couldn't tell what he was looking at—me, the interior of the car, or something else. He didn't seem to be in any hurry to talk. “I'm going to need to you to step out of the car.”

“What?” Lucy asked, clearly confused.

“Out of the car, please. Both of you.” He stepped back to let me out. “Turn it off, first, and put the keys on the hood.”

By now, my hands were shaking, but I did what he asked and got out, slowly and carefully. Lucy met my eyes over the roof of the car, and I could tell she was just as uneasy as I was. Maybe more so. She'd probably never been through a traffic stop like this.

“Stand over there,” he drawled without so much as a “please.”

Lucy looked like she wanted to argue, but I snagged her arm and pulled her over to the spot where he'd pointed. The last thing I needed was her getting us arrested. We watched in silence as the officer went around the car, opening the doors and using my keys to open the trunk. After tossing my purse out onto the road, he bent down to look under the seats and then wedged himself into the car to examine the cluttered glove compartment. Finally, apparently satisfied that I wasn't hiding anything—or maybe not satisfied at all—he grabbed a clipboard from his car and came over to where I was standing. He didn't give me back my keys.

He looked at me. “Name?”

“Chloe Sabourin.”

“Address?”

I gave him the number to my own house and said a silent prayer to any well-meaning spirits who might have been listening that he didn't go check it out. Somehow I didn't think the dead rooster and piles of beetles would go over well.

“
Your name?” he asked Lucy, and she gave it to him. “You got some ID on you?” he asked us.

“In my bag,” I said while Lucy fished hers out of her pocket.

He sauntered back over, grabbed my bag from where he'd tossed it, and pawed through it with his sausage-like fingers. When a tampon fell out, he didn't bother to pick it up. Finally, he located my ID and came back over to me.

“You say she's staying here?” he asked Lucy. Again with the brows and the scowling.

“Yeah. She's staying with my family while her mom is out of town,” Lucy told him, peering over his shoulder like she was trying to see something, anything, in the distance. But the house was still a ways off, and trees blocked our view. “Can you tell me what's going on? My family should be back there.”

The officer looked up from what he was writing, and this time he slid his glasses down his nose a bit so I could see his eyes. Ice blue and without a hint of warmth. But he never answered her question.

After a few minutes of writing down my information and calling it in to the station, he handed me back my ID.

“So can we go?” Lucy glanced past him again, to the house.

“I'll get you an escort to your house,” the officer said.

Relief washed over her features

“But your friend here's going to have to wait until the unit's done with the scene.”

“The scene?” My knees went weak as overcooked noodles.

“What scene?” Lucy asked.

“Not at liberty to say,” he told us, motioning for another deputy to come over. “Take this young lady home.” Then to me, “You'll need to be behind the yellow line with the rest of them until everything's sorted out.”

“Miss? If you're ready?” the second deputy said.

“But—” Lucy started, but when the deputy's brows went up again, it was enough of a warning for me to speak up.

“It's okay, Luce. I'll wait here.” She still looked like she wanted to argue, but I shook my head. “Go find out what's happening. I'll be fine,” I said, trying not to let her see how upset I was.

“You're going to need to move that,” the officer grunted, gesturing toward my Nova. “Can't have you blocking the road.”

As Lucy walked up the long drive, looking back like she wasn't sure she should leave me, I did what he asked and moved the car out of the drive and off to the side of the road with the news vans. The second I parked and cut the engine again, one of the plastic-haired reporters came over and leaned down into the window. He was young—not all that much older than me—and he was basically vibrating with eagerness.

“Could I ask you a few questions?”

I looked up at him. I'd never seen anybody with teeth that straight and white in real life. “I don't know any answers,” I said, resting my forehead on the steering wheel and trying to remember how to breathe.

Apparently, my abruptness didn't dissuade him. “Did the police give any details about the victim?”

“Victim?” I lifted my head, my heart in my throat. I'd been trying to hope that the scene had something to do with vandalism, maybe.

The news guy looked disappointed. “Did the police mention anything at all?”

“Who's the victim?” I said, ignoring his question.

He frowned. “Maybe he mentioned where the body was found?”

“What body?” I was getting angry now. Or rather, terrified, but it came out like angry.

“The rumor is that a body was found in the mansion. Can you confirm that?”

“I can't even get back there. How could I confirm anything?”

The fake smile fell from the guy's face. “Well, if you hear anything … ” He handed me a card that I tossed on the floor of the car the second he walked away.

Another body. Another murder. I had to let Mama Legba know. I reached for my bag and dug around for my phone, but … nothing. I swore I'd grabbed it on the way out the door that morning, but after digging for a few minutes, I came up empty.

I could always drive back to the city to tell her, but it was a good twenty minutes each way. If I left, I might miss my chance to make sure that Lucy and her family were safe.

Pounding my fists against the worn steering wheel, I let out a string of curses. Usually that would've been enough to make me feel better, but this time it didn't. Not when I was stuck on the outside of everything, again. Not when I didn't know if my friend's family was hurt, or worse. Not when the thing blocking my path was a fat-ass policeman who looked at me like I wasn't worth his time.

I was stuck, alone. And all I could do was wait.