Chaos Karma: Hand of Fate - Book Three

by Sharon Joss

  I gave him a hard stare. “That’s four, Lou. Four members of the band are dead. We’ve got to find out who’s doing this and stop him.”

  CHAPTER 9

  I had no idea how to find out who had a reason to kill off Wiley Willy and the Rogues, but Lou was on it, and I trusted his instincts. Besides, between working two jobs and the upcoming Spirit Festival, I was so busy, I couldn’t do much anyway. On Thursday, I went into Les Belles Jolie to pick up my new uniform for work and had my first fitting for the gown I would be wearing to the Spirit Ball. Henri went with me, in part because I wanted his opinion on the dress, and in part because I wanted him as backup in case that Luçien Bold guy made a pass at me.

  Yeah, I knew it was silly to think he was really in my dreams, but those titillating dream trysts had rapidly evolved into thigh-clenching nightmares. I couldn’t resist him—not even a little, and every time I fell asleep, he was there—getting closer to rape each time. Not only that, but he seemed to be enjoying my panic. And besides, I still hadn’t figured out what Luçien Bold was, and I had a very bad feeling that if he actually raped me in my dream, that something very bad would happen.

  “Hello, dearie,” Felicity crushed Henri and me to her ample bazongas. She whisked a familiar-looking shred of black fabric pinned to a padded lavender hangar and laid it out on the glass countertop. “Your new uniform is all ready, just as promised.” I felt the blood drain from my face as she presented me with the bill. I handed over two weeks’ worth of tips without a word. “And I’ve thrown in three pair of my signature panties with my compliments. As I was taking your measurements last time, I couldn’t help but notice the, shall we say, pedestrian quality of your unmentionables? A pretty thing like you should be wearing something far more feminine next to your skin. I guarantee my silk lingerie will give you a whole new outlook.”

  She led us into the back of the store to her workroom, a surprisingly spacious room with a large antique pine worktable, a half-dozen dressmaker’s dummies, and hundreds of bolts of fabric stacked against the sandblasted brick walls. In the back corner, a circular iron stairway led upstairs, presumably to Felicity’s living quarters. Chrystal chandeliers illuminated the room with a warm glow, and softened the workman-like effect of the clutter of pins and scissors, and accouterments of her profession.

  There was no sign of Luçien, for which I was hugely relieved. Henri settled himself onto a pouf near the coffee maker, closed his eyes, and plugged in his ear buds. I could tell he was meditating—something I should have been practicing, but frankly, I didn’t want to risk falling asleep and meeting up with Luçien.

  Felicity pulled a curtain across the fitting area and had me strip to my undies and step up to a low platform for the fitting. The fabric was the same sort of filmy see-through stuff as my uniform, except this was an unflattering beige color. Ugh.

  “I was hoping for something with a little color,” I said with as much tact as I could muster.

  Felicity giggled through a mouthful of pins and quickly transferred them to a pincushion on her wrist. “No dear, this is the muslin pattern fabric.” She crossed the room and picked up a bolt of silvery turquoise-blue fabric, which rippled and flowed around her as she brought it over for me to inspect. “Theraphos silk—the finest and rarest silk in the world. It’s tougher and more resilient than regular silk, and completely waterproof. Lighter than down, stronger than steel. I’ve been saving it for something special, and here you are.”

  The fabric was incredibly lightweight, and felt comfortably warm against my skin. “It’s beautiful.” And it was.

  I must’ve been there for over an hour before she finished pinning and primping the fabric around me. I couldn’t really tell much, other than the neckline plunged far deeper than I was comfortable with, and the skirt volume was enormous. I could have used it for a parachute.

  “Oh don’t worry about that dearie. You’ve a lovely figure, and besides, we have to make room for all the ruffles—no no, don’t fret. I promise you’ll be stunned with the results.”

  Ruffles. It had to be ruffles. “You know, I’m not really a ruffles kind of girl--.”

  She gave me a hard look. “Now now. You must trust me. When you make your entrance at the Spirit Ball, all eyes will be on you. And isn’t that what we want? What you want? This is, after all, your coming out to the whole community, is it not? After the Spirit Ball, the whole world will know about Shore Haven’s new Hand of Fate. Believe me; the old Hand of Fate never looked this good.”

  The steel in her voice shut down my protest. I hadn’t really thought about it like that. This dress was not about me or what I wanted. It was about the paranormal community in Shore Haven. Anyway, it was only for one night—just a few hours, tops. I did like the color and ruffles or no, it was too late to back out now. She’d probably had the ruffles in mind all along. Dang it, I hate it when I’m right.

  As it was, I was too tired to argue. I stumbled home in a fog, clutching my new uniform with a mixture of contempt and victory. I had three hours before my shift started, and nothing would stand between me and a nap.

  For once, Luçien didn’t show. But it seemed like I’d hardly closed my eyes at all before the sun went down and the Juno Rockover and the guys started practicing in the basement. I lay there with my eyes closed, the walls of my bedroom vibrating with the base beat, while Blix snuggled up against my neck. I didn’t sleep, but when got up to go to work, I felt better than I had in days. Maybe there was something to this mediation thing after all.

  * * *

  Thursday night and Friday passed in a blur. On Saturday I had to get up early for another fitting with Felicity. Henri had some time to kill before his session with Master Foo, so he came with me to Les Belles Jolie for my second fitting. Once again, there was no sign of Luçien.

  “What do you think?” I stepped out from behind the screen. Felicity fussed with the ruffled neckline while I tried to push up the bell-shaped long sleeves. Even with the plunging vee-neck and back. I was swimming in a sea of fabric.

  “Oh it’s just lovely, dear. The color brings out the ah, yellow of your eyes.

  Sheesh. I’d forgotten to put in my contacts. What’s more, I was so tired, I didn’t care. I faced the mirror. It was a struggle to keep my expression neutral. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t be caught dead in the thing. “What do you think, Henri? Come on, I want your opinion.”

  Henri barely glanced in my direction before looking away. His hands thrummed lightning-fast tattoo on this thighs. “Take off those ridiculous sleeves, rip out the ruffles and cut about four feet of fabric off the bottom. Throw in a pair of thigh-high strappy stilettos and we might be able to do something with it.” He closed his eyes, lost in the music which even plugged into his ears is loud enough to hear from across the dressing room.

  Felicity glared at Henri, her lips pursed in disapproval. “I hardly think--.”

  He was right. This thing looked more like a granny’s nightgown on me than a ball gown. I held up my hands in appeasement. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” I turned before the mirror, the light fabric swirled around me like a silver-blue mist. “I do like the color; maybe it would look better without the sleeves. I think it will be too hot--.”

  “Now, now, dearie, trust me. This dress is not supposed to look like something you wore to your prom.” She tugged on one of the sleeves, marking the hem at the end of my fingertips. “I’ve worked my fingers to the bone the last couple of months, creating the garments for most of Shore Haven’s spirit community, including the staff. I know what they’re wearing. This gown will outshine them all.”

  * * *

  It began as it always did, with me lying on my back and Luçien crawling up my body. This time, I was naked, except for the wispy lingerie Felicity Caprice had given me. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. Luçien’s lips on my bare skin had me responding to him, even though I didn’t want it. This was definitely creepy now. It didn’t matter how handsome he was, I did
n’t want him. I struggled to move, but that seemed to encourage him.

  Something really, really bad was going to happen. I had to wake up. But I couldn’t. I yelled at him to stop, but that just seemed to encourage him. He slipped his hand inside my panties.

  I tried to concentrate on something else; anything—just to get my mind off of what he was doing to me. I remembered Master Foo’s words about meditation. Meditation wasn’t sleep. It was breathing. Feel your breath. Fill your lungs to beyond their fullest, and then a teeny bit more. Then release the air from the top of the lungs to the bottom, and a beat beyond the point where there was no more air left.

  It was no use. ‘Stop it. I want you to stop what you’re doing right now,’ I said.

  He rubbed his thumb against me, and to my horror, by body responded. ‘It’s my nature,’ he told me, ‘I’m a dreamstrider. It’s what I do, from the day of my birth until the day I die. I know you want me.”

  His fingers were relentless. To my horror, an irresistible tension build within me. ‘Stop that,’ I said, but my voice sounded weak. ‘Please,’ I gasped.

  He paused just short of the inevitable. ‘Why should I?’

  I blew the air from my lungs in a long steady exhale. ‘I don’t want you to.’

  He laughed. ‘They never do.’ He lowered his head to my stomach and began to nuzzle his way lower.

  With a sudden gasp, I was fully awake. I sat bolt upright on the bed, my pulse pounding.

  That was no dream.

  CHAPTER 10

  The rest of the weekend passed in a haze—I was terrified to fall asleep. Graveyard shift at Dave’s Killer Burgers on Saturday night was crazy—the place was packed with out-of-town visitors in for the festival; some human, some not even close. Juno Rockover and the band stopped by, and he brought a half-dozen other vampires with them. They didn’t come to eat—they wanted to see me feed the piranhas. I was so tired; I almost fell asleep with my head on the edge of the tank.

  Within hours of learning of Eddie’s death in the fire, Juno had hired a fourth vampire to join the band in the basement. Juno knew the new sax player from Buffalo, and the band was practicing pretty much from dusk to dawn. While I admired Juno’s commitment to fulfill Wiley Willie’s contract, I wondered how sincere he was, or if he had a motive to getting rid of Wiley Willy and the band. One gig didn’t seem a big enough motive to kill over, but maybe there was something in their childhood history—a grudge, maybe. Of course, with the band practicing all night, I was getting no real sleep at all—just a light doze. The only real benefit to that was that Luçien Bold stayed out of my dreams.

  For the umpteenth time, I wished Rhys hadn’t left. Not just because I missed him and thought that maybe Luçien wouldn’t be able to invade my dreams so easily, but for other reasons, too. Rhys was smart, and probably knew a lot more about local vampire history than I did. Besides, he owned Mystic Properties, and knew all the places in town that would rent to paranormals, including vampires. He’d be able to find the band a safe place where they could practice, I was certain. I felt like I was stumbling around in the dark here.

  After work on Monday, I drove out to Heavenly Shores Amusement Park for the ribbon-cutting ceremony, which marked the official opening of the week-long Spirit Festival. The park was already full of visitors, many of whom were in costumes, some even in native dress—everything from aliens to zombies. I wandered along the manicured paths I’d known so well from childhood, but had never visited during the festival. The place had been transformed.

  Any other weekend during the summer, the shrill screams of kids and adults echoed through the manicured gardens as visitors enjoyed the thrills of the wooden roller coaster, the parachute drop, and even the carousel. Twenty minutes before the ribbon-cutting ceremony, the rides were temporarily halted.

  I strolled through a tent village of colorful booths set along the wide path, of fortune-tellers, astrologers, weavers, artists, healers, chakra cleansers, oracles, reiki masters, numerologists, and cyberneticists, in an unending variety. Other areas were set aside as places for practitioner worship for both followers and the curious, as well as classes, music, and even an unnatural history museum housed in a big-top circus tent boasting a cryptid zoo.

  Even the food was different. Instead of the smells of barbeque and kettle corn, the vibrant scent of exotic spices and curries filled the air. I knew most of the food would probably be vegetarian, gluten-free, dairy-free, and probably taste-free too, but it sure smelled good. My stomach rumbled. I wanted to get something to eat, but everything for sale looked either sticky or gooey or drippy or all three.

  The Shore Haven Chamber of Commerce had made a request through the Mayor’s office for me to wear my work uniform for the ribbon ceremony, so as to lend a bit of credibility to the whole Hand of Fate image.

  Enzo told me that this was supposed to tie-in with the whole what-goes-around-comes-around theme of this year’s festival. I didn’t have the nerve to ask how a meter maid uniform improved the credibility of the spirit festival, but Enzo must’ve known what I was thinking.

  “Think of it this way, Mattie. For the last seventy-five years, Shore Haven’s paranormal community has been living in a shadow world—hiding in plain sight as it were. As much as Madame Coumlie was loved and respected by the people who knew her, she was minimized by her age and appearance by the prejudice of outsiders. Only her reputation as the Hand of Fate kept the underworld of Shore Haven safe from those who would seek to prey on them. And now here you come along, a marketer’s dream—young, athletic, attractive, and an officer of the law. What’s not to like?”

  So no matter how good the food smelled, I had to be sure that whatever I got to eat, it wouldn’t make a mess on my white shirt.

  I settled on something called Devils & Angels. Bite-sized cubes of chocolate and angel-food cake, deep fried and dipped in a hard chocolate shell, served up with strawberry dipping sauce. They even gave me a plastic bib. After the first bite, I’m certain I experienced some sort of spiritual epiphany—I swore I would never eat cake again unless it was deep-fried and dipped in chocolate.

  Mayor Brunson found me as I finished the last delectable bite. “Hey Mattie, I need another favor.”

  I gave him my best smile. Like almost getting arrested for Wiley Willy’s murder wasn’t enough. “Of course.”

  “The joint viewing for William and Marjorie will be tomorrow night, and as per her wishes, Neldene is hosting it, so I won’t be going.”

  So I guess Brunson had heard of her after all. “Why not?”

  “Neldene is a vampire. She was Marjorie’s best friend. They’ll all be there. Enrique and his cronies just about cost me the election. I won’t jeopardize my position by attending a vampire function. I won’t give them the satisfaction. I would consider it a huge personal favor if you would go in my place. You’re about the only person who could go to the viewing in my stead without it being seen as an insult.”

  To be perfectly honest, the idea of spending and evening in a funeral parlor with a bunch of vampires had about as much appeal as a root canal, but since the alternative was going home to a houseful of vampires playing loud music all night, I figured the peace and quiet would do me good. “Yeah, sure. No problem.” Brunson promised to email me the specifics, as the ribbon-cutting ceremony was finished.

  The ceremony itself was short, if not sweet. Everyone was given a rainbow ribbon sash with their title emblazoned in silver glitter. Mine said simply, ‘Miss Fate’. Give me a break. Someone actually thought my first name was ‘Hand of’?

  I hated it.

  Miss Fate. Sounded like mis-fate. Like a bad omen. I wondered if Madame Coumlie had ever worn a ‘Miss Fate’ ribbon. I couldn’t imagine she would have. Not in a million years.

  Mayor Brunson and I shared the honors, and the rainbow-colored ribbon was cut on the second try, after which I was pretty much out of the picture. In addition to Mayor Brunson, and Enzo Obote, there were a couple dozen other dignitaries, an
d of course, the queen of silken flounces herself, Felicity Caprice, chairwoman of the Spirit Ball. I figured out pretty quick it was a photo-op for the local business owners and sponsors, and ditched my misfortunate sash in the nearest trashcan.

  Twenty minutes later, the photographers and news people left, and most of the other dignitaries began to drift off toward their air-conditioned vehicles. I saw Felicity make a bee-line for the park’s ballroom. Probably working on the decorations. Suddenly the answer to half my problems became clear. I caught up with Enzo Obote, the Spirit Festival Chairman just as he was heading out to the parking lot.

  “Hey Enzo, you got a minute?”

  He beamed when he saw me, then frowned as he checked his watch. “A quick one. What’s up?”

  “It’s about the band. With Willy gone, and the fire this week, the band has had to bring in some new members. They need a place to practice.” I pointed in the direction of the park’s Grand Ballroom, in the center of the park. “Is there any chance they could use the ballroom? Just until Saturday?”

  Enzo briefly considered it. “It would have to be after the park closes.”

  I didn’t know if Enzo knew that the band was all vamps, but it wasn’t my place to say. “That’s perfect for these guys.”

  “Fine. I’ll make the arrangements.” He was already pulling out his cell phone. “I’ll let Charlie Crimmer know. He can let them in and lock after them. Anything else?”

  Mattie Blackman for the score! I couldn’t believe my luck. “No, that’s great, thank you.” I grinned. I couldn’t wait to tell the Juno and the band. Everything was going to work out perfect.

  “You all set for the parade Wednesday?”

  “Yep. Can’t wait.” I showed him my parade wave. “See?”

  He laughed. “See you then.” And he was gone.

  Henri showed up just then, and we decided to check out the big tent with the unnatural history museum.