Love and Blood (Evening Bower Book 2)

by Sherry Rentschler

  Rhea laughed and escorted Sondra back into the house. “Me? Oh, my dear, I am not the scary one.”

  “You know, this place is tough to find. My taxi driver didn’t do it well.”

  Rhea nodded agreement. “Yes, we like it that way. We are a bit eccentric and reclusive. I hope you will not find this troubling. We value our privacy.”

  “I understand. Especially if there are vampires around.” She winked at the joke and headed outside to retrieve her suitcases. Franklin met her and took her upstairs from the kitchen.

  “Well?” Cooke appeared by Rhea’s side.

  Rhea watched as the manservant and new nanny headed upstairs toward the grey rooms. Sondra merrily chatted away.

  “She will do but keep an eye out. There is more to that girl than we know.”

  Cooke patted Rhea’s arm and nodded. “I felt it too, lass. She wouldn’t fit in otherwise.”

  A tense silence fell between them, and Rhea slipped her hand into Cooke’s.

  “Cooke, the roses are wilting, did you notice?”

  Cooke nodded slowly and met her eyes. “I did. I was going to ask you about them later. Something is wrong with you. Come into the kitchen and sit by the stove. I’ll fix you a tincture. I think young Master Destin is draining you and you need a blood boost. The roses wilt because you are more pale and exhausted than I have ever seen. This abominable heat, I tell you.”

  “Do you have my trunk? My powder?”

  “Yes, M’lady. I removed it when Franklin put your trunk in your room.”

  Cooke stepped aside and waited for Rhea.

  Rhea’s relief presented in her shifting shoulders. How delightful to be together again. Maybe Cooke’s common sense would set the seer at ease and soothe the niggling worry that never abated.

  “All right, one cup. Just until Victoria returns. One of your peppermints would be wonderful.”

  If only peppermint could save the roses.

  VICTORIA RETURNED BY late afternoon after she waited on two funeral processions, an accident on the bridge, and departing construction crews. She barely parked before she practically flew out of the car and inside the house, whisper-yelling for Rhea.

  “Rhea. Rhea,” she said in her loudest, hoarsest whisper. “We have to do the wind chimes. Miss Rhea.”

  She discovered an empty library then headed up the stairs taking them two at a time. Head down, a sense of immediacy rocked her every movement as she turned on the landing and—

  “Oomph!”

  Two women collided and tumbled onto their butts. The collision jarred the floor with a small boom.

  “Oh goddess, I am sorry!” Victoria blurted as she sat up. “I should’ve been watching where wait. Who are you? What are you doing here?” Victoria’s senses flared. Instinctively she reached for her amulet before she jumped to her feet and put up her fists. “Does Rhea know you’re here?” Her voice rose several octaves.

  Cooke, Franklin, and Rhea arrived at the bottom of the stairs as the other young woman rose from the floor and put up her hands.

  “What is going on?” Rhea stared at the two women. “Victoria? I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “I just got back,” Victoria answered breathlessly, “and I found this stranger roaming around. What should I do with her?”

  Rhea couldn’t help herself, and she covered her mouth, hiding a laugh. The “stranger” offered a shy smile.

  “I’m Sondra. I’m the new nanny.” She put out a hand to shake.

  Victoria hesitated a moment as she swallowed away an uncomfortable feeling of wrongness. Naturally, she was still on high alert from the fire, but she shook hands quickly.

  “Sondra arrived only a couple hours ago, Victoria. Now, come downstairs, quietly if you please. No fighting.” Rhea continued to grin. Cooke and Franklin shook their heads.

  “Miss Rhea, your son will be waking,” Sondra offered.

  “I guess you are officially on duty. Would you change and dress him, then bring him down? We will wait in the kitchen.”

  A chagrined Victoria whispered another apology and escaped down the stairs.

  Calm restored, Rhea returned to the warmth and comfort of Cooke’s organized kitchen, her cup of tea, and the Irish shortbread. Franklin disappeared to check on the rooms emptied of construction workers. Victoria grabbed a kitchen stool at the butcher block and pressed her plan.

  “I just came from my building. Well, my old building, I mean the fire, the old fire. I hurried back. Sorry about upstairs. Anyway, we have to get the wind chimes up right now, Miss Rhea. Right away. I saw that detective, and he said the fire was no accident.”

  “We saw the news report. I am very sorry. Franklin is prepared to dig the posts and mount the chimes as soon as Am relays the exact compass points. I told you how delighted I am with them. They will add something truly magical to the land and should prove invaluable.”

  “Rhea, I’m counting on their magic but don’t tell Dra I said that. Anyway, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. The detective I spoke to said someone marked the grounds around my building with mystical symbols or runes. I don’t specialize in runes. However, I recognized one of the markings on the fence as a binding for witches. I think the image meant to lock me in my building. Whoever wrote it failed, but someone died in the fire anyway.”

  Cooke’s head snapped around. “Excuse me, Miss, are you saying someone thought or thinks that you are a witch and meant to burn you alive?”

  Victoria paled and nodded. “Whoever did that will find out I’m here. I think someone who knows dark magic is behind it. We need to get those wind chimes up now because they will warn us if someone tries to enter the property, someone who isn’t living here.”

  Cooke wiped her hands and poured coffee for Victoria and herself, then added hot water to a packet of hand-tied herbs for Rhea.

  “Do you remember the markings, lass? I know runes. Perhaps I can make sense of them. If they targeted you, then we can counter them with more specific wards.”

  Victoria grabbed a sheet of butcher paper and sketched the one she could remember. She set the drawing aside for Cooke as Sondra entered the kitchen. A toddler stepped gingerly beside the nanny. Everyone stared.

  “By all the gods,” Rhea breathed and rushed over to the little boy, who stumbled into her arms. “Destin?”

  “I found him standing in the crib, just waiting there. He didn’t want me to pick him up at first. After he studied me, I guess he’s decided I’m okay. You said he was a baby, Miss Rhea, but he looks nearly two. I put him in the only shirt that fit.”

  “I did. Destin was a baby. I mean he is a baby. He is less than four months.”

  “Well, I never in all my years. Look at the boy’s eyes, lass. He is a phoenix too, isn’t he?”

  Rhea stared at Cooke, surprised her friend would spill her secret. Cooke suddenly covered her mouth and shrugged. Sondra turned to Destin with renewed interest and studied him. The boy grinned and pulled on Sondra’s hand.

  “Well, you weren’t kidding about the magic, were you?” Sondra said as she played with Destin’s fingers.

  There was no easy way to describe the shock that vibrated around the room. Rhea stared at her son, and he stared back. His eyes, blue as hers, filled with vibrant little fires and flickered with mysterious wisdom. For a moment, the two connected in flames and then Destin blinked and let go of Sondra’s hand. Excited to be on the ground he chortled and ran off, bare feet slapping the stone floor. His tiny fangs peeked behind his smile, and he laughed with a baby’s uninhibited giggle. Those little feet fled into the hallway, chased by Sondra and Rhea until Destin paused in front of a stunned Franklin.

  “Hold there, little one.” He picked up the boy and then gasped, “Young master Destin?”

  Destin responded with another belly laugh and a joyous hug for the bemused manservant.

  Rhea held her side as she tried to catch her breath and Sondra reached for the boy.

  “Yes, I believe that is my son. Though I
do not understand how he suddenly looks more like a two-year-old than a three-month-old.”

  “I will take him, Master Franklin.” Sondra reached out her arms.

  A bigger shock rocked the group.

  “Mamma!” Destin gurgled and pushed aside Sondra’s arms as he stretched out for Rhea.

  “Brigid’s breastbone,” whispered a slack-mouthed, wide-eyed Cooke.

  “He speaks?” Victoria blurted.

  “By all the gods. Yes, come to your Mamma, my clever darling.” Rhea cooed and gathered him up. Destin snuggled against her breast and pulled at her gown. “Well, your father and I wondered how you would grow. I see now you are a very special little boy.”

  “Peshil,” Destin agreed in a warm tenor voice. He clapped his hands.

  “Um, Miss Rhea? I think I’m confused,” Sondra said.

  Victoria burst into a belly laugh, “Oh goddess, that’s an understatement.”

  Over the next several hours, the women feted and admired Destin. Gawked at mostly. Rhea couldn’t fathom the advancement and impatiently waited for Amor-el to join her. Victoria shook hands with Destin a dozen times (that seemed to be his new favorite pastime) and wished that Mister Riviere would hurry up. Cooke was nonplussed. Sondra appeared utterly unperturbed.

  Franklin appeared the least shocked. He had seen many odd and magical things in his rather long life, though admittedly, this was a topper. Several times, he looked askance at the boy. Overall, he was stoic about the young master and proud.

  Victoria noticed Sondra’s nonchalance and remembered her warning feelings. They continued though she couldn’t explain them. Still, the woman seemed very fond of the little boy. Perhaps it was best to keep silent. Reflexively she fingered the knot under her shirt, the amulet.

  When Cooke demanded that everyone depart the kitchen or there would be no supper, Victoria nearly climbed out of her skin and paced the library where the women waited.

  “Rhea, I almost forgot. I saved my grandmother’s tarot cards from the fire because I brought them with me yesterday, thinking I would need them for your reading. Since we have to wait for your, um, Mister Riviere, we could do your reading now?”

  “Rhea hugged Destin who decided he had enough fun walking and crawled into her lap, cranky for his dinner.

  “I am sorry Victoria. I must tend to Destin first. But I promise we will do the reading soon. Am should be with us shortly, Dra too. We should put up your chimes first in case you are correct about the markings. Plenty of time for the other.” Rhea lifted Destin and grunted with the increased size. “You are getting big, my little one,” Rhea said softly.

  “Shall I carry him for you, ma’am?” Sondra offered.

  “I have him, my dear. He needs only me right now.” Destin cried. “Stay here and get acquainted with everyone. I will put him down for a nap. Victoria, make your preparations. Twilight is almost here.” Rhea soothed her son and went upstairs.

  Victoria frowned, worry and impatience adding an edge to her words and manner. “Time stands still until it doesn’t,” she muttered.

  The chiming doorbell broke a potentially awkward silence.

  Victoria jerked and froze. “That might be the detective, right?”

  “Are you in trouble?” Sondra whispered.

  Voices filtered down the hall. Sondra slipped away from the door and into the shadows. Franklin entered with a gentleman. Mace Bayone wore navy blue trousers and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up in defiance of the heat. Going bald, he always wore a fedora to protect himself against the sun. Today he chose a navy hat to match his pants. His detective’s badge he clipped to his belt along with his gun holster.

  “You may wait here, sir. I will advise Madam of your arrival.”

  “Thank you. Though I would like to speak to Mister Riviere, too.”

  “I will tell him the moment he returns. May I bring you a refreshment?”

  The man declined, and Franklin disappeared.

  “Detective Bayone? Is there news?” Victoria rushed him.

  Her approach caught him by surprise. Mace shook his head. “Miss Robards. Nice to see you. I’m sorry I don’t have anything new to report. I was hoping to speak to the building’s owner as we discussed.” He spread his arm in an arc around the room. “Nice place.”

  The room suddenly darkened. A tall man dressed in a cream-colored linen shirt and tan dress pants appeared in the library doorway and immediately commanded the room.

  “Thank you. I am quite happy with the renovations,” responded a smooth, cultured voice.

  Mace worked hard to keep his face devoid of any expression despite being surprised. He stepped forward.

  “Mister Riviere, I’m guessing? I’m Detective Mace Bayone. I need to ask you some questions about your building. Is there somewhere we might talk in private?”

  “Certainly, Detective. If you will step into—”

  “If you will excuse me, I need to go upstairs.” Sondra came forward, nodded to the detective and received a questioning frown from Amor-el as she left.

  Victoria also excused herself. “I’m helping Cooke in the kitchen. If you need me, I mean.”

  Amor-el chuckled lightly, “Well that was easy. Won’t you sit down?”

  Mace and Amor-el settled in by the fire. Mace refused a small libation while Am indulged in a brandy. The detective discussed the explosion, suggested it was arson, and asked about the building. He was disappointed when he discovered Amor-el remembered little about the purchase.

  “I wish I could be more help, but I do recall signing for several parcels on that end of town though I do not recall which ones. I do know that if I hadn’t made those purchases, those old structures might be a parking lot or a strip mall. I think we’ve had enough of those and I’m trying to preserve some of the original buildings in our city.” Amor-el leaned back in his chair, swirling his brandy snifter.

  “I respect that Mister Riviere. I grew up here and hate seeing the modernized houses, all chrome and glass. Wood is eternal, would you not agree? What I’m curious about is the purchase of a large insurance policy. It seems you only paid for it two days ago.”

  Amor-el frowned. “I cannot comment on that.”

  “You mean you won’t.”

  “No, I cannot. I am not aware of that purchase. My lawyers handle most of the nuances related to the acquisitions. I gave them the power to manage those for me. My work demands I travel with some regularity and the transfer keeps things running smoothly if the solicitors handle the minutia.”

  The detective looked around the room and smiled. “My great grandmother told me about this old house when I was a kid. I’ve seen pictures. You’ve managed to restore it so that it looks like the original. These renovations must be costing you a pretty penny.”

  Amor-el frowned and set his brandy aside. His voice and stare were cold. “If you are suggesting that I burned that building for money, I am offended, and this interview is over.” He stood.

  Mace rose and put his notebook away. “I wasn’t suggesting anything. Or insinuating. I apologize. Though you know, it came up in the investigation. I must ask because you will gain from the fire unless we prove you caused it.”

  “Detective, I will indulge you this once. The young woman who lived and worked there is now living here because she has nowhere else to go. I feel obliged to provide for her because she is close to Rhea, despite the fact I barely know her. My family fortune does not depend on anything here in New Orleans, and it never did. My company operates out of Suffolk, Virginia. Any other wild assumptions and wild speculations will not alter the fact that I preserve and do not destroy. Now, if that is all?”

  Mace couldn’t help notice the disturbing light in the man’s eyes and nodded. “Thank you for your time, sir. Please tell Miss Robards that I will be in touch when there is news.” He shook hands and left.

  Amor-el stood in the empty room for several minutes after the detective’s departure. Am felt he knew who bought the building and the insuran
ce. He didn’t know who burned it down, but he knew who paid the bills. There was an unwelcome newcomer in town, after all. What he didn’t know was why or how Victoria was connected.

  Suddenly, he remembered the card in his wallet, the red one with the black bar. Perhaps Dra could fill in the gaps when she located Tobias. Time to tell Rhea.

  “Is he gone already?” Victoria rushed back and scanned the room.

  “Yes, the detective said to tell you he would contact you when he knew more.”

  “Shoot. I mean good. I mean I’m glad you’re here. We need to get those wind chimes up. Rhea agreed and said you were ready. We have to move fast. Someone tried to use dark magic. They might try again.”

  Victoria repeated the story of the markings around the building and what she could decipher from them. “Cooke is trying to figure out one of the runes. And if I’m right then everyone here might be in trouble because of me, I guess. The good news is the chimes will warn us if anyone gets close enough to try a surprise.” She winked.

  Am considered only a moment. “I have the plans in the carriage house. Ask Franklin to meet me outside. First I need to speak to Rhea.”

  Victoria handed him a notecard. “Here are the coordinates for the four corners. I went ahead and looked them up. I’ve blessed them. When you are ready, I will activate them. Then anyone who lives here can come and go without setting off the wards. I can exclude you and Dra with a blood sample and some dirt. Remember the tubes are silver.”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll be safe with us, and we’ll be safer because of you.” Am winked and climbed the stairs.

  DESTIN BIT RHEA in the breast and sucked hard. Her thick, hot blood made Destin’s face ruddy and immediately warmed him. Dizziness pummeled her senses. Even as she wondered at her son’s rapid growth, he aged right before her eyes. If only there were a reference, something to guide her through this transition. No one would believe Destin was normal if anyone else saw what had happened downstairs. Now, how to explain it to Amor-el?