Next, they walked around the lawns and then tried the docks. Reaper took off, howling with pleasure as he chased a few herons away and probably (thankfully) every snake. He watched as the big hound frolicked until they crossed onto the gravel driveway in front of the house.
That’s when Sondra, peddling a bike like ol’ Miss Gulch from The Wizard of Oz, nearly ran him over. Franklin stepped out from behind some bougainvillea bushes and barely escaped becoming road kill. He jumped out of the way, keeping a tight hold on his shotgun. Sondra skidded to a stop and nearly tossed herself over the handlebars.
“Mister Franklin! I’m so sorry!” she cried as she came off her bike and ran to him. “I almost didn’t see you. Did I hit you? Are you hurt?”
Franklin, whose lightning-quick reflexes saved him from injury, brushed the dust off his pants and shook his head.
“No harm, Miss Sondra. I am glad I ran into you.” Suddenly the impact of those words struck the both of them. Despite Franklin’s careful control, he grinned, and she giggled. “Seriously, miss, everyone is looking for you. Where have you been? Are you well?”
Reaper, who watched the commotion, wandered back but paused as he closed in on them. Sondra gathered her bike and nodded to Reaper who stared at her with an unnerving focus.
“I’m sorry I worried everyone. I’ve spent days looking for my bicycle. Sometime after I arrived, someone moved it. I thought the renovations crew moved it since I left it by the side of the house. Tonight I found it by the docks. I was peddling back when I saw you.”
“The docks, miss? Then we just missed one another. I came from there.” Franklin frowned at a rumbling sky. “We should hurry back and let everyone know you are well.” He motioned to Reaper who did not join them.
“I don’t think he likes me.” Sondra glanced at the hound.
“I do not know why he wouldn’t, miss.” He motioned to the hound. “Let’s go home, boy. Time for supper.”
For one more long moment, Reaper stared at Sondra, his red eyes narrowing as he studied her. Once Franklin called him, he turned and walked back with them, but he refused to walk beside her.
For a few minutes, neither spoke. They felt the bayou wrap around them, the heat and humidity like a heavy blanket. Sondra nervously cleared her throat.
“I almost forgot,” she said as they rounded toward the kitchen of the new house.
Reaper left them and found his place on the porch where he could observe and nap.
Sondra parked beside the steps and reached into the bike’s basket. “After I found my bike, I met up with the mailman. He didn’t know about the new house, and so I collected the mail from the last two days. He said to tell you he’ll take care of the change of address.” She thrust a few envelops forward.
Franklin received the bundle with a slight bow of his head. “Very kind of you, miss, thank you. An oversight with all the changes. We haven’t had an address change in too many years to remember.” He glanced at the top envelope and frowned, but before he could say anything further, Sondra’s stomach openly growled like a wildcat. She blushed and then dashed inside. He heard the other girls’ surprise. Immediately, they pummeled her with questions. But his focus was on the paper in his hands.
Another letter from France. His first inclination was to toss the envelope but duty and sense compelled him. He stepped onto the porch and paused. The bayou always whispered to him. The sun appeared to dip into the lake, creating golden prisms across the gray and azure sky. Clouds thickened and threatened. Thunder rumbled like Sondra’s stomach. The evening was too beautiful for unwelcome news yet it was coming anyway. The negative omens piled up, and it seemed the house was destined to fight from one worry after another. What they needed was a hopeful sign and, just like that, Destin delivered.
The moment the sun completely disappeared from view, leaving only shards of light behind the menacing clouds, the young vampire appeared in the kitchen. His dilated pupils and his pale cheeks revealed his hunger.
Cooke was unprepared for the esurient young man and the waiting brought out his fangs making him demanding and a bit frightening. Franklin walked in just in time.
“Master Destin, your father left something for you from last night. I will fix it.”
Destin nodded, thanked him and quickly drank up when his dinner came. Cooke pursed her lips and mouthed a thank you to her Scottish savior. Working with blood as food required more practice on her part.
“Franklin, when I got up I saw flickering lights across the way, by the water, and into the deep bayou. What are they?” he asked as he licked his lips.
“Lights? I haven’t seen any lights.” Cooke glanced out back and gasped. Over at the dock and by the fountain were several tiny blue lights, indistinct and shimmering.
“Are those fireflies?” Destin wondered as he peered over Cooke’s shoulder. His color improved, his eyes returned to normal size and the desperation disappeared.
Franklin checked and smiled. At last something good.
“No, Master Destin, those are will 0’ the wisps. The scientists will tell you they are swamp gases. Others say the appearance is a sign from messengers, or omens, even warnings. When they appear over the bayou, they are watchers. Wisps have kept this house safe and show whenever they sensed our need. They are common in my country.”
“And in mine,” Cooke said. She passed by Destin and slid the roast into the oven.
“I remember. I read about the swamp gas. Fairy lights. Spirits.” Destin frowned. “Which is true?”
“If you believe in science then the gas explanation is correct. And if you believe in the theory of guiding spirits, then only those who experienced them can tell you what is true. I know these lights to be like pixies. They can be helpful or lead you astray, not in a deadly kind of way, though they can lead you into danger if you are not careful. When they have appeared before, it was always to bring news or hope. Sometimes to warn us. Long ago, the sir’s mother said the fairies sent her signs.”
“My grandmother saw them? So, fairies are real?” Destin stood up from the table. He was nearly as tall as Cooke and still growing.
“Indeed they are lad,” Cooke nodded.
“Your father knows – knew – several fae. You should ask him,” Franklin added, not wanting to remember.
“Huh, I’ll have to read about them,” Destin said before he hugged Cooke and walked back upstairs.
They heard his footsteps disappear into the library above.
Cooke washed the boy’s glass and continued chopping vegetables. “Is that all there is to it? I’m Irish you know. I think I know a will 0’ the troublemaker.”
Franklin barked a short laugh. “Woman, these could not have come at a better time. They promise aid if needed. Usually, they warn me of danger. I never question them. But if we manage to make them angry, then their nonfeasance becomes the beginning of our misery.”
Cooke nodded her understanding. “I will put out the pink sugar.”
Immediately after dinner, Franklin asked to speak to Amor-el who ushered them into the library for privacy. Franklin closed the door and handed over the envelope.
“Uncertain whether it came yesterday or today, sir. Sondra connected with the mailman and presented it to me.”
“Sondra again. She is always in the thick of it, isn’t she?” He studied the paper. “You didn’t open it,” Am said surprised.
“No sir, I believe this is of a personal nature, unlike the documents from the attorneys.”
“Yes, well, let’s end the suspense, shall we?” He popped the seal and pulled out a delicate letter. A spidery hand wrote with a fine nib fountain pen on heavyweight vellum. It was beautiful. There was no need to check the signature. His sire’s – his grandsire, actually – penmanship was unmistakable.
Am scowled as he read then thrust the letter back at Franklin. The edge in his voice was the only indication of his disgust.
“We are to be honored by His Grace. It says by mid-month. He wants to stay
in the old homestead. With us.” Suddenly Amor-el eyes danced with an idea. “We shouldn’t disappoint him, Franklin, should we? I left the old master suite’s bed and furnishings because Rhea wanted hers. The kitchen and dining rooms are the same since I ordered the new dining room table and chairs. The lights work. The fans. Everything is the same but for rugs and such.”
“But sir, what of the library?”
“Hm, that is a problem.” Am paced a few feet away before he turned and winked at Franklin. “Go see our man at the Estate Sales and Auctions. Pick up some interesting volumes and set them on the shelves. Add one of our old mantel clocks, as long as it isn’t one of my mother’s. Find him a few leather chairs. Preferably Victorian. I leave it all to you. Get whatever help you need. Rhea will probably want to check everything, which I will attempt to discourage. We don’t have much time. I suspect he is already on his way. And Franklin, you did empty the attic, yes? Rhea was counting on our foresight.”
“Indeed sir, I moved her things myself. Leave the rest of the arrangements to me. I remember what he likes.” Franklin returned the letter, wrote in his notepad, and left the master to his brooding.
If not for the will 0’ the wisps, he would have worried.
He probably should have worried anyway.
THE RIDE TO the airport took a while, delayed with traffic. Destin stared out the window and said nothing.
Am’s thoughts troubled him. He didn’t remember being this much of a snot when he was a human teenage boy. He hoped he didn’t treat his mother so shamefully.
Am admitted how happier things would be when Rhea returned safe and sound. Destin did not reply. When they made the last turn into the airport, Destin finally faced his dad.
“I won’t see much of you anymore now that Mother is home. Will I need a new hunting partner?”
“No, Destin, I will go with you every night.”
“But you will be busy tending to Mamma. She can’t go with us, and she hates it when we go out.”
“Son, she understands more than you realize. My nights with you are important to me. What we share is unique to us.”
“You don’t think she’s jealous?”
“Again, where do you get these thoughts?”
“Because I see how she watches us when we leave.”
“I believe you misunderstand her. A part of her wishes she could join us.”
Destin considered that idea a moment and his face puckered in distaste.
“What about when the new baby comes? I suppose you will want to spend more time with it.” He flushed at the sharp look Am gave him. “I mean her.”
“I will want to spend time with the new baby, yes. Same as I did when you were born.”
“Mother will not have time for me anymore when the new baby comes.”
“Where did you get that idea?”
“I read how a baby takes up all of the mother’s time. And now that I don’t have many human qualities remaining, she won’t be able to spend time with me and must devote herself to the baby. I don’t mind. She will be weak and preoccupied.”
Am laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Your mother weak? My son, you don’t know your mother if you can say that. She’s fiery, decidedly dangerous when provoked, and the strongest of us all.”
Destin snorted. “That’s rich. She isn’t a vampire, Father. Besides, I have a fire, too.”
Amor-el frowned and considered a moment before he answered. None of this sounded like Destin, and he wondered what sparked this train of thought. Still debunking these thoughts was paramount.
“The moment anyone underestimated your mother was the moment of their undoing. Including the vampires. You should remember that.” No response. “Your mother adores you, son. You are the first-born, and you will always be her special love. As you are mine. Whether you are a human, vampire, or something else, she will always have time for you. Even with the new baby. Besides you were born out of love and fire, and are unique.”
“Yes, Father. If you say so. Prophecy and all that.” And just like that, the conversation ended. Destin’s sullen demeanor returned.
Am could feel his anger rising but what could he say? He couldn’t figure out where the ideas came from or who would put those notions into Destin’s head. Then he thought of Sondra, the nanny-turned-babysitter-turned-tutor, and wondered.
The two arrived at the airport a little after ten-thirty. Rhea’s plane was early, and she waited for them out front, baggage at her side. When she spotted them, she waved but continued her conversation with a young woman dressed in a multicolored turban and colorful skirt.
They pulled up to the curb and Destin barely waited for the car to stop. His lanky form emerged. He greeted his mother stiffly, but his eyes gave him away. He was happy to see her.
Rhea stared at him. Gone was the little boy who just a few weeks ago was a baby. Now he was taller than when she left by nearly six inches, and she estimated he topped five feet. This teenager was about to be a man and one who acted strangely guarded.
“Mother, I missed you,” he said when she hugged him.
“Destin, my little love. Only you are not so little anymore. Look how tall you are,” Rhea exclaimed and glanced at Am over the boy’s shoulder. “I missed both you and your father. It is wonderful to be home again.”
Amor-el joined them. He pulled his beloved to him, rewarded her with a smile to melt her fire and a kiss to ignite it again.
The woman standing to the side cleared her voice, subtly reminding them of her presence.
“Oh Cady, I am sorry. My manners. My dear, this is my beloved, Jean-Louis Riviere. You may call him Amor-el or Am. And this young man is our son, Destin,” Rhea beamed at her family as she presented them. Both men glanced at the new woman with polite curiosity. “And Am, Destin, this is Catarina Silva, an old friend from South America. A doctor and a certified midwife.”
“I am pleased to meet you,” the woman said with a slight accent. Her husky voice was rich like dark coffee. Under the fluorescent lights, her bright hazel eyes glittered with golden flecks. In New Orleans where comfort and color went hand in hand, she still stood out. Dressed in a white off the shoulder blouse with puffy sleeves, tucked into a multi-layer, multicolored, full-length skirt, the ensemble showed off her dark amber skin and highlighted a beautiful white smile. She accessorized with leather sandals with bindings that wrapped up her lower leg, a necklace of turquoise and bloodstone, and a different ring on every finger. On her head, a multicolored turban made from a large scarf completely covered her hair. Heads turned, and men did not hide their curiosity. Her beauty was earthy, stark, and arresting. Only a slight anomaly marred her looks, and that was a birthmark on the back of her neck leading to a puckering scar under her right ear. Otherwise, she was perfect.
Destin was dumbstruck. Amor-el covered his son’s lapse of manners with a handshake and a smile. “I am pleased to meet you, Miss Silva, and I take it you are with Rhea to see her through her pregnancy? Will you be staying with us?” He glanced from Catarina to his love.
Rhea blushed. “I hoped you would not mind.”
Destin finally smiled. “You smell delicious, Cady.”
Rhea shook her head. “Destin! Manners, please. That’s Miss Silva to you.”
Catarina grinned back. “That is very kind of you to say. Thank you. You are breathing the perfume of my home, papaya, mint, and pineapple. Though I am not a vegetarian, I eat some fruits to the extreme. My mother said one day I might turn into a pineapple.”
“I’m not vegetarian either, and I like pineapple,” Destin said with a slow grin that showed the tips of his fangs.
“Down tiger,” Am corrected with a reproving glance. “Shall we go? Is this all the luggage?” Am pushed Destin to help him load a trunk and the two carry-ons.
Rhea sat up front with Am and Destin happily sat in the back with Catarina.
“Am, on the way home, would you stop at Club Malachite? I saw Dra while I was in New York and I promised I would check
on the club and talk to her staff.”
“I wanted to go by there and ask if they heard about a new club,” Am nodded as they left the airport behind and headed for the city.
“That’s an interesting necklace,” Destin noted. “Is it from your country?”
Catarina fingered the stones and nodded. “I come from high in the mountains. You might say we lived in the clouds, above the trees. My people never had such ornaments of their own. We adopted them from the Mayans.”
“Catarina and I met eons ago when I was antique hunting at a coffee plantation outside of Bogota,” Rhea said. “Cooke introduced us.”
“Then you know?” Amor-el glanced into his rearview mirror at Catarina.
“Yes, I know the phoenix very well.”
Destin sighed. “Of course. Long live the phoenix.”
Rhea’s head snapped to the side, and she frowned at Amor-el who shook his head. Something of note for a later discussion.
Catarina studied the boy for a long time before turning to watch the passing vistas.
It was almost midnight by the time they found a place they could park and walk to the club. The rains came and went, but threatened a return. Crowds in front of the club didn’t seem to care, and the line wound down the street as usual. Rhea walked to the front of the line and Tye-dye, who worked the door, let the entire group inside. He did give an unusually warm smile to Catarina who smiled back, a moment that elicited a soft growl from Destin and a laugh from Am.
Inside it was SRO. The DJ had the partygoers jumping on the mobile floor. Steel served drinks up on the mezzanine and Seth worked the main bar. He was the first to see Rhea and waved.
“Hey, Miss Rhea,” Seth called out. “Can I get you something? Oh hi, Mister Riviere. Destin.” Seth smiled at Catarina. “Hi, I’m Seth, your pilot for the evening.”
Destin hissed.
“Hello Seth, I need to speak with whoever is running things. I’ve seen Drahomira, and I need to pass along some information,” Rhea said.
He nodded, happy to help, and punched a button on the cord attached to his earpiece. “Hey Steel, relieve Tye for a few. Miss Rhea is here. She needs to speak to him.”
Love and Blood (Evening Bower Book 2) Page 20
