Once she stepped out of the streetcar on Canal, she made her way to The Ruby. Liz was behind the bar and Vaughn was chatting with her, drinking a beer. As Wren entered, Liz went off to the other end of the bar, visiting with a Vietnamese girl. Wren sensed she was a donor. In the days since the transfer, Wren had sampled from Olivia’s in-house donors, and she was beginning to feel far more comfortable in her new skin.
As she watched Liz, she realized she was turned. This didn’t surprise her in the least; she knew Olivia would have wasted no time in turning her. She wondered when she’d done it. If Olivia had been up front with her, maybe she wouldn’t have turned Alex; or maybe she would have done so sooner and they all could have worked together against Olivia.
At least now she had another chance.
She sauntered up behind Vaughn, sliding her hands around his waist and breathing on the back of his neck. She knew she smelled of violets, and the scent of her perfumed breath mixed with the scent of Vaughn’s natural smell and the faint traces of aftershave that had lingered through the day. “So glad you could come out to see me, Mr. Morris.”
She felt the heat radiate from him as he spun around and blushed; he stared at her and she knew he could see she wasn’t the same girl he’d seen on the outside when he’d met her as Tiffany.
“Tiffany, you look so much like Wren that it is astounding.” She merely laughed at his suggestion.
“Please, these days I’m far more comfortable being called Morrigan.” Liz was distracted, tending to other customers. Morrigan put a twenty-dollar bill on the bar for her drink and Vaughn’s and grabbed his hand, leading him out into the street.
He didn’t resist; they walked hand in hand long enough to find another bar to duck into. She got him situated in a booth and went to grab more drinks. He was confused and dazed, which was her plan. She slid into the bench seat on the opposite side of the booth and simply said, “Let’s help each other. What I’m about to tell you will make your career, as long as you help me.”
Chapter Forty
Christophe was pleased; Olivia seemed to recognize he could truly be a help to her, and they consulted on the ritual to bring Wren back. He’d asked Olivia to walk him through the ritual steps, and he wrote down what she translated from memory, this time in English. He had his mother’s altar at his disposal and he gathered the candles and other ritual implements from there. Finally, he was harnessing the family powers and wisdom the women tried to keep for themselves. Now he would take it.
He’d never felt as powerful as he did on the night of the ritual. Both Tiffany and her boyfriend Tony were submissive and completely unable to resist the power he and Olivia had over them. They were as gentle and innocent as lambs to the slaughter. He’d always felt powerful when drumming, but during this ritual he was part of the power, not simply a supporting player. The entranced man’s hands perfectly mimicked Christophe’s as they danced over the skins of the drums.
When they fed from him at the end of the ritual, Wren at his neck and he and Olivia each feeding from one of his wrists, Christophe swore the beating of his heart matched the rhythms they’d played in reverse, starting with the frenzied tachycardic tempo and slowing first to a regular rhythm, then fading out and stopping altogether. He’d worried before the ritual that he’d be resentful about Wren’s return, but as the three of them celebrated over their sacrifice, he realized the three of them had a special strong bond. He’d helped her get her life back, and she was now indebted to him. As he saw it, so was Olivia.
He could get used to such power.
Epilogue: Mardi Gras Day, 2013
Sasha brought up the rear of the procession as it left the starting point on Montague Street in front of the small cottage Liz and Vivienne shared. She, Lucy, Steph, and Zofia had arrived early enough they were able to get a good spot to watch the front of the house, but late enough they could blend in with the others. Once the Storyville Stompers arrived, the door of the cottage opened up and out came Liz and Vivienne. Liz carried a decorated box in her hands. Sasha felt that same sense of uneasiness she had when she and Lucy zipped her replacement up into that body bag just a couple of months ago. She knew she wasn’t in the box, but she felt the same connection to those ashes, the same loss.
Behind Liz and Vivienne came Kirby and Mike and then Eliot Camp and Robert James. Everyone was masked, and Liz and Vivienne were dressed crisp white dresses and white masks. It was odd to see her father in Carnival gear, but she was glad he was here. She also noted Lila was nowhere to be found, which also made her happy. She let herself get caught up in the movement and the sounds of the brass band as they made their way to and through the Quarter, picking up the Rex parade at Canal and Royal before turning back and making their way across Decatur to the river. Here, the band switched to “A Closer Walk With Thee” and she watched as revelers came forward with small pouches of ashes mixed with glitter, releasing bits of their loved ones, casting them upon the water. Liz waited until the last of the revelers stepped forward and then she opened the box. The air stirred just as she lifted the lid, helping her disperse the ashes she thought were Alex’s into the air. Sasha felt herself sigh with relief as the ashes and glitter hovered above the water, glitter and sun dappled water mixing together. The sound of Vivienne’s conch cleared the air and the crowd began to scatter, people meandering in all different directions, returning to the day’s festivities before Ash Wednesday and the end of carnival.
As the crowd dispersed, Alex’s family of Liz, Mike, Kirby, Eliot, and Robert hugged each other and briefly talked, agreeing to meet up later for dinner. Vivienne stayed with Liz by the river as the four men wandered off together in search of a drink. Sasha and her new family also retreated. They made their way back toward the house she’d shared with Liz, now just Mike and Kirby’s house.
After Liz and Vivienne summoned Olivia and challenged her, they’d made the decision to move into the small cottage together. They were not far from Kirby and Mike, but the house with its memories of Alex and of what happened to her there were too heavy. Liz was also learning from Vivienne; Sasha could feel the bond between the two of them. They needed each other right now, and she knew they were good to each other.
She knew they also needed her, though, if they were going to be successful in fighting Olivia’s manipulation.
She entered the house and went to the room where Wren had killed Alex and created Sasha in one rash moment. All of the things that made the room hers and Liz’s were gone. Kirby and Mike redecorated by putting new linens on the bed, cleaning out the closet, replacing the lamps and bedside tables she and Liz had bought from thrift stores with some bland matching ones that were new. The room before had been crowded with memories—of her, Liz, of memories that the antique and used furniture they’d gathered held—before; now the only remnants was the ghostly invisible energy in the corner where she’d died. She stood in that corner, her back to the door. She sensed someone behind her and she turned. She was still wearing her mask, as was Liz, who stood in the doorway, breathless and quiet.
They stood that way for a few moments, neither of them daring to move or speak. Finally Liz moved toward Sasha and they stood nose to nose, Liz looking into her eyes, still saying nothing. Sasha heard the breath catch in Liz’s throat as she recognized something in Sasha’s eyes. Sasha smiled as Liz reached forward and slid her thumbs under the edge of Sasha’s mask, sliding it over her head and dropping it on the floor. Her hands were cool and dry on Sasha’s skin, as she cradled her face in her hands. Sasha reached over and removed Liz’s mask. As she did, tears slid down Liz’s cheeks. Silently, Liz pressed her lips to Sasha’s.
After a few seconds, Sasha wrapped her hands around Liz’s wrists and pulled free from the kiss. “I was hoping you’d come here.”
Liz nodded. “I can’t explain it, but I had to. I should be angry with you for not coming to me sooner. Alex, you’re also turned?”
“Yes. I’ve been watching you; the dreams and the session at Martin
e’s were attempts to reach out to you. I’m sorry I didn’t just reveal myself, but when I was awakened, you were gone to your dad’s. And I had to figure things out, just as you did.”
Liz was still looking at her, marveling in how different she looked. She’d looked so much like herself in the seconds after Liz removed her mask, but now she looked like a stranger. In a flash, she realized she’d seen this version of Alex at The Ruby—even at the memorial service before she’d retreated to Hattiesburg. She’d been with her the entire time. “How, Alex?” was all she managed to get out.
Alex shook her head. “I have a new name. Please call me Sasha. Come with me, please, and I can explain.”
Sasha picked up her mask from the floor where Liz dropped it. As she put her mask back on, Liz did the same. “Do you trust me, Liz?”
She nodded. They left the house, silently walking together back toward the river.
Sasha led Liz back through the crowds toward the ferry that would take them across the river where Lucy and the rest of their new family waited for them.
Notes & Acknowledgements
A huge thanks goes out to Luna Hacker (you can find her on Etsy) for the box and beautiful beaded Saint Brigid’s medal that I used on the cover. Coincidentally, she’s in New York, which I find fun given that Olivia spent time there before heading back to New Orleans. Luna’s work is beautiful and the box and beadwork have a permanent spot on my desk.
As always, I have some wonderful advance reader folks to thank, including my sisters Deborah Maldonado and Renee Rodgers, as well as my longtime friend and fellow writer Rebecca Taverner-Coleman. I also worked with Nicole Frail who provided some great guidance on the beta-draft. Please do check out her website if you’re interested in incredible rates for editing and manuscript reviews.
I realize that there are some inconsistencies with spelling in the two quotations at the start. Those inconsistencies are due to the different spellings of “sasa” and “sasha” in the original sources. Likewise, what beta readers saw as errors with the quotations from Dracula are as Van Helsing’s character wrote them.
The morgue is not placed in a specific location. In 2012, various temporary locations were being used for morgue services, as the location on Martin Luther King Boulevard suffered a fire in 2011. The period where Alex is found in the morgue falls between that fire and the beginning of construction on a new coroner’s complex in 2013. See this note from Construction Masters: “The Coroner’s Office & morgue were on the 1st & 2nd floors of the Orleans Parish Criminal District Courthouse and sustained extensive damage from flooding. The Coroner has operated out of numerous temporary locations ever since, including one on Martin Luther King Boulevard that was fire destroyed in 2011.”
The train route from New York to New Orleans that Olivia takes was Richmond & Danville’s “Piedmont Air Line”. You can read about it on page 117 of King’s Handbook of New York City: An Outline History and Description of the American Metropolis, by Moses King, first published in 1882, the year after Marie Laveau’s reported death.
Other rail lines did exist. The Pontchartrain Railroad, also known as The Smoky Mary, for instance, was the subject of a 2012 song by the same name by Harry Connick, Jr. (see the video here if you’re on a tablet or other enabled device). You can read more about the line here. The use of the rail line to attend Voodoo rituals is also mentioned in Martha Ward’s 2004 Voodoo Queen: The Spirited Lives of Marie Laveau (University of Mississippi Press).
Finally, my use of the spelling of “voodoo” in the book versus “Voudou” is to distinguish entertaining fiction from the religion.
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