Sasha wasn’t sure she truly believed in clairvoyants. But, given the things she didn’t believe in when she was Alex that clearly were true, she didn’t completely discount them. In this case, she knew if the message was going to be real for Liz she would have to use Martine to convey it. Ai had heard the woman’s name clearly and Sasha was easily able to find her home. She was there when Vivienne and Liz arrived.
Martine was easily persuaded to do her bidding, easier than anyone else Sasha had encountered other than Ai. She fell into a trance immediately when Sasha looked at her—almost before she said a word. Sasha spoke to her softly and gently as she explained what she needed from Martine and also instructed her to forget that she was in her house. She was to say nothing to Vivienne and Liz about Sasha’s actual physical presence, but to carry on as normal throughout her consultation. Sasha sensed no resistance. She rationalized that the lack of resistance was why she felt no need to seal the deal with a blood promise; in reality she was so confused and astounded by Martine’s openness she was afraid to feed from her. She was so open that it seemed like she was an empty space.
The plan worked beautifully. She was able to speak through Martine as if the medium were her puppet. Sasha revealed to Liz that Olivia had turned her. She cried, apologizing for not protecting her then and being unable to fully protect her now.
In the weeks of training and consultations with Zofia and Lucy, Sasha had discussed simply revealing herself to Liz, but all three of them agreed it was too risky to do everything at one time. Better to help her understand who she was first, to learn about her new identity than to spring it on her that her former girlfriend was also a vampire. There was also Olivia to worry about; she was by far the most powerful vampire any of them knew—she was a direct descendent of Dracula and the only known vampire who was born, not made. Not even her father could make the claim that he was born vampire. Everyone—Zofia, Lucy, Steph, and Sasha—decided that it was not the time to reveal herself. The risk that Olivia would realize Sasha existed was too great. Not only did that put Sasha in potential danger, but it would reveal the alliance they were forming against her.
Through Martine, Sasha was at least able to give Liz enough information to realize she was turned and to understand the dangers Olivia posed to her—that was the only true protection Sasha could offer now. She hoped Vivienne could offer her help in fending off Olivia until the alliance had a clear plan.
After the session with Martine, Liz sought out Ai. Sasha wasn’t surprised at all when Ai’s phone rang and it was Liz asking her to come over. She knew it was time for both of them to realize their true natures, so she whispered in Ai’s ear to go to Liz. She watched through Ai’s sight as she went to Liz and told her what it meant to be “turned” and about donors. As Liz thought about what she assumed were merely erotic dreams of Olivia Holmwood coming to her, Ai noticed the paring knife on the table. She grabbed the knife and made a shallow cut on her inner arm. Liz was unable to stop herself, the attraction of a willing donor too much for her to resist. For the first time, she fed in a fully aware state, her tears of sorrow adding salt to the coppery taste of Ai’s blood in her mouth.
Chapter Thirty Six
After Liz and Vivienne met with Martine and heard Alex’s voice, she cut herself off from everyone, including Vivienne. She’d called Liz and gone by The Ruby multiple times over the days following the consultation, and she was frustrated and agitated by the lack of contact. Liz finally texted her a simple “I’ve finally returned to the world of the living. Meet me at The Ruby.”
Vivienne immediately went to The Ruby when she got the text. As she walked in the door, she could sense a difference in Liz. She was calmer somehow, and more self-assured. She smiled at Vivienne when she spotted her. Vivienne felt relief wash over her as she realized she hadn’t lost her.
“I’m so sorry I cut you off, but I had a lot of processing to do.” Liz poured Vivienne a drink and slid her sketchbook over to her.
Within the pages, Liz had drawn sketches and scenes that explained the months since Alex’s death, as well as sketches that included pictures of Olivia and of Christophe. Vivienne sat quietly as she carefully examined every image. Finally, she asked Liz what it all meant; the story Liz told her was one of reincarnation and vampires.
“So, you think you’re a vampire and that’s what Martine, I mean Alex, was referring to when she said you had been changed?” Vivienne was still looking at the pictures in the sketchbook, some of which appeared to be sketches of Wren feeding on Alex, as well as of Liz and Olivia locked in an embrace. She also spotted a picture of Christophe. “And my brother is part of this how?”
Liz put her hands on top of Vivienne’s. “He’s one reason I’m alive. He’s working for Olivia and he watches over me.”
Vivienne nodded. “Olivia is the reason he’s gained confidence. She allows him to be an active player in her scheme, not just a chauffeur.” Liz could see Vivienne was putting the narrative together. “That explains his sudden bitterness toward the women in the Garnier family. And, I was cheering him on because I thought he was now at least living his own life. Instead, he was just following Olivia’s orders.”
“When I made you leave my house after we met with Martine, I called Ai. I knew if anyone could help me figure out this whole vampire connection, it would be her.” She paused. She could sense a flare up of jealousy from Vivienne. “When she came to talk to me, something happened. I fed from her, Vivienne. I know this is not rational, but I am a vampire. I know that now. And, Olivia is the cause of all of this—everything that happened. She’s the cause.” She slid the sketchbook from Vivienne’s hands and turned to a sketch of two women in gowns that looked Victorian. Vivienne had seen it earlier but had skimmed past it quickly. Now she looked closer. While the two women had Olivia’s and Liz’s faces, Liz had written the name “Daniela” above the figure that looked like her.
“I’ve been here before. That’s what the dreams have been about, and why all of this happened. Olivia has come for me. I’m not sure how Alex and Wren figure in just yet, but I do know I have to take the upper hand in this situation with Olivia. Will you help me?”
Vivienne was too stunned to actually speak. She instead nodded and waited for Liz to reveal her plan. When she’d finished, Vivienne nodded and simply said, “It can’t hurt anything, I suppose. If you’re wrong, that is. If you’re right, at least we’ll be on our territory.”
Chapter Thirty Seven
Olivia was more radiant than Wren had ever seen her when she visited to tell her the ritual would take place in three days time. Wren was to abstain from feeding and to refuse all food trays, in part to help explain the disorientation that Tiffany would demonstrate after the transfer. Tiffany hadn’t been turned, and the guards would not respond to her in the same way they did Wren. As far as anyone among the prison staff would remember, Wren was always confused and disoriented. She was, after all, a crazed murderer.
Olivia was flush with excitement over having found the secret, and her excitement worked to Wren’s advantage. Even though Zofia’s lessons were effective, Wren worried Olivia would somehow discover the truth and know Wren was not just submitting to her desires. Olivia’s excitement and anticipation of the ritual and transfer were just distracting enough that Wren knew her thoughts and secrets were safe.
The three days were incredibly long for Wren. The time seemed to stretch. She was beginning to feel the edges of desperation on the evening of the third day. She needed to feed, but she resisted. She wondered about Tiffany; even though she suspected there wasn’t much in Tiffany’s life, she felt guilty about taking it from her. Wren pledged to come back to those feelings of guilt later; now she needed to concentrate. She cleared her mind best she could and waited.
The sensation started as a tingling, much like how a hand or foot feels when it’s fallen asleep and is just starting to revive. Wren slowed her breathing, forcing herself to not panic. She could hear what she thought at first was the so
und of her own heart beating loudly in her head, but as she slipped under, she realized the sound was that of drums. The temptation to hyperventilate was strong, but she worked through the panic and soon the tingling stopped and she felt a dropping sensation, as in a dream. The landing was abrupt and for a second she thought she had merely fallen asleep. The surface she was on, however, no longer had the slight give of her thin mattress. She put her hands on the floor beside her hips and sat up before opening her eyes.
The second her eyelids flew open, the drumming stopped, replaced by Olivia’s triumphant laughter. As Wren’s eyes adjusted to the light, she saw Christophe and another man with large drums nestled between their knees and she saw Olivia, who smiled at her and simply said, “Now to complete the ritual.”
She had no idea who the poor man was who was meant for their dinner, but she didn’t hesitate. The days of not feeding and the effort of the ritual and transfer made her desperate to feed. Olivia handed her the ritual knife, the handle cool against her palm, as Christophe took the drum from Tony. Tony stared blankly, his eyes glazed. He seemed to recognize the body in front of him, but Wren felt a shudder of confusion and maybe revulsion, too, as she kissed him on the mouth. It was as if he sensed the person inhabiting Tiffany’s body had changed. She slid behind him and pulled his head back. He offered no resistance as she quickly slid the knife along his neck and quickly placed her mouth over the wound. Olivia and Christophe joined her in the feeding, each latching onto a forearm, draining him completely.
Chapter Thirty Eight
Kirby and Mike were out of town, so Liz and Vivienne had the house to themselves. They cleared the living room of furniture and swept and vacuumed before drawing the circle that would hopefully protect them both. Vivienne had no real experience with establishing contact through telepathy, so she sought out Martine’s advice on channeling and on protective measures.
She set up candles in the four compass points, as well as a large white pillar candle that she’d carved protective symbols and Veve into inside the circle. When Liz was dressed appropriately in a white ritual gown that Vivienne had worn before, Vivienne motioned for her to move inside the area bordered by the candles. Before they sat on the cushions she’d placed on the floor, Vivienne drew a circle using holy water from St. Ann’s. She’d read that holy water was effective in holding back the undead. She kept the bottle in her hand in hopes that she wouldn’t have to use it again. She lit the candles and they sat.
Vivienne didn’t expect it to work. Or, more accurately, she hoped it wouldn’t work. She didn’t think Liz was crazy, but if it didn’t work, she could stay in denial about Christophe and what she suspected was going on with him.
Olivia’s laughter was the first sign that the summoning was successful. And Vivienne’s worse fears were confirmed as Olivia confirmed she’d robbed Vivienne of her brother. “He’s so precious, don’t you think? Your grandmother certainly did a wonderful job of grooming him to be subservient.”
Liz was the first to respond. “I will fight you, Olivia. I’m fully aware of who I am, and I am not subservient to you.”
Vivienne took Liz’s hand. “I vow to help you in your fight against Olivia.” She still held the bottle of holy water in her free hand, and she threw it at Olivia. The drops of water shimmered in the air as if in slow motion; Olivia’s form shattered into falling glitter, her laughter lingering after all other traces of her were gone.
She and Liz embraced in the circle, both of them crying silently. It wasn’t clear to either of them who initiated the kiss. They both were breathless by the time they pulled back. “Will you come home with me, Liz? I don’t want to leave you here, and I can’t stay.”
Liz grinned, suddenly a little bashful. “I don’t want to stay here tonight either. We can leave things as they are and come back in the morning. We’ve got plenty of time to clean up before the boys get back.”
Vivienne drove as quickly as she could without crashing and without getting pulled over for speeding. Once they were safely in her house, she turned to Liz and kissed her again. They were as breathless as before, even though the danger was gone. She led Liz to her bed.
Later, as they sipped wine under the covers, Vivienne said to Liz, “I hope that I didn’t rush things. Don’t think this was just a reaction to what happened, Liz. I want to see where this goes.”
Liz squeezed Vivienne’s hand. “I was just about to say something similar. I can’t guarantee I have all of my shit together, though. It doesn’t seem quite fair to pull you into this any more than you already are.” She paused and poured more wine for both of them.
“Christophe being under her control isn’t your fault. I would be fighting her even if she wasn’t after you.”
“There’s also the fact that I’m still pining after my dead girlfriend.” Liz stared at her glass. Vivienne put her hand under her chin and kissed her sweetly.
“There’s nothing wrong with that. I would worry if you weren’t still grieving.” They sat for a minute before she continued. “Besides, in African religion, death is viewed much differently. For you, and for everyone who knew her, Alex is Sasa. As long as you are here to remember her, she exists between the worlds of the living and the dead. She lives on in you, Kirby, and Mike. When all of you are gone, she will be Zamani; in that state, she is revered as a long ago ancestor and joins those from the past. I should expect that until you are gone that she will live within you. To wish anything else would be the height of selfishness.”
Liz felt tears falling as Vivienne talked. “Will you teach me? I want to know what you know, to become a Voodooienne.”
Vivienne nodded. “I will teach you, but I also want something from you—I want to be a vampire.”
Liz shook her head. “I can’t.”
Vivienne replied, “You have to. Let me explain.”
The two stayed up most of the night, opening another bottle of wine. Vivienne explained how her grandmother had plans to take over her body and leave her in the shell of an old woman. Liz knew she had no choice. If she didn’t turn her, she would lose her.
Chapter Thirty Nine
Christophe had grown in confidence while Wren was away. She was relieved to be free, and the distraction of their celebratory threesome after the ritual was an added bonus. Her lessons with Zofia had been useful as she was able to read Christophe and his thoughts; she could also tell Olivia could, too, and that his presence was a good distraction. Wren hoped Olivia was unaware she was blocking efforts by Olivia to read her mind.
They cleaned up Tony’s apartment. Christophe took care of the remains. Wren didn’t ask how; she figured the less she meddled, the better. After things were tidied and the apartment showed no traces of the ritual and the celebration that followed, they left for Olivia’s house on the edge of the Garden District. Wren was quiet in the car as Christophe drove, he and Olivia in the front seat and Wren in the back. She could sense he was anxious about leaving them alone, but he was also distracted about betraying his grandmother and his sister.
Once the celebration ended, Olivia showed Wren to her new room in the house on Thalia. Olivia had readied it for her, making sure she had all of the clothes and personal effects she might need.
“You are free to come and go as you please, Wren. Part of this arrangement is that in return for saving you, I expect your loyalty and your help whenever I ask it.” Olivia held Wren’s face in her hands and softly kissed her on the lips. Wren surrendered to the kiss and concentrated on nothing other than the sensation of Olivia’s lips on her own. Zofia had trained her to focus on events and sensations as a meditative practice to keep her mind clear. It seemed to work; it was a compartmentalization Wren was familiar with from years of dancing on Bourbon Street. Girls she’d known who hadn’t had that ability were either lousy at earning or they were suicide victims fairly quickly after starting to dance.
Wren showered and dressed. She marveled in the mirror over how well the body had been prepped for her. She didn’t mind
one bit that Tiffany had been younger. Her skin was taut, and her body looked sleek and fresh. The tattoos were identical to the ones that marked her old body, and while the face was not the same, it was close enough. If she wanted someone to see her as Wren, they would.
She waited until Olivia was out before she ventured outside the house alone a couple of days later. She made use of the downtime to rest and also as a way of convincing Olivia and Christophe she was happy there. And, in reality, she was so relieved to be free that it wasn’t an act. She also began interacting with the house staff and donors. She knew she needed to build trust quickly.
True to her word, Olivia had not charmed the house as she had when Wren had been here before—she was able to leave. She wondered how Olivia had controlled that before—whether it was something with the house or some sort of mind control over the people she wanted to stay put. She guessed the latter, as she realized she’d never wanted to leave. She had simply come and gone as instructed by Olivia.
Tiffany’s phone was plugged in on Wren’s nightstand, and she grabbed it and slipped it into her pocket before leaving the house. Once she was at the streetcar stop on St. Charles, she dialed the number for Vaughn Morris, asking him to meet her at The Ruby.
She’d always loved the St. Charles streetcar. She loved it for the noises it made and the banter of the drivers, as well as the sheer fun of watching the mix of people. Locals on their way to the Quarter to wash dishes and work the line in restaurants sat next to tourists they’d likely be working to feed and clean up after.
She smiled as the car stopped down by the Delphine Hotel, the old rectangular building that had been her home for so long before all of this started. The Delphine saw more strippers and hookers than tourists, as they rented rooms by the week and month. Artists and junkies of all kinds waited eagerly for the rooms there. She wondered who was living in her old studio apartment. The bar downstairs had the doors open, and she could see the empty dance floor as the streetcar lurched by.
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