by G A Chase
Kendell tried to remember everything they’d accomplished. “It didn’t seem that long to us. I wonder how long Colin’s been here. Though I guess it doesn’t really matter.”
“Can I get you some food? You all must be starving.”
At the mention of something to eat, all four dogs sat at attention in front of the matronly figure and started wagging their tails with anticipation.
“I feel like I just ate, but something nutritious wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
Mary pulled off her apron. “Nutritious—listen to you. The food that I make is to revitalize the soul as well as the body.”
It didn’t take long to explain their plan over the gumbo and sweet tea. Mary listened with all the attention of someone being told how to disable a bomb. “And I would be his first stop?”
“Technically,” Myles said, “his first challenge would be crossing the bridge. That should work like a doorbell for your psyche. If he shows up here, you’ll have the option of either opening the door or staying in your realm and ignoring him as if he were some door-to-door salesman.”
Mary didn’t seem convinced. The look she shot Kendell reminded her of the way her mother used to give her the side-eye when she didn’t believe Kendell had done her homework. “This is your plan. You would want some say in what goes down, wouldn’t you?”
Kendell nudged Myles under the table. He had a much better grasp on how the gates of Guinee worked, and that was the blueprint for what they wanted to create.
He said, “As far as this gate is concerned, you would be the sole guardian. We’re not gods—not even loas of the dead. Neither Kendell nor I want to sit in primary judgment of a person’s soul.”
“So you’re breaking up the responsibility, like having multiple judges on a court?”
“Something like that,” Myles said. “But we’re not asking you to evaluate the man’s life, simply one small aspect of it. If you feel he’s learned something, you can pass him on. If not, turn him away.”
Kendell used the opportunity of Myles and Mary talking to enjoy the gumbo. It lacked some of the surprise the Mary in Kendell’s reality mixed into her broth, but then, being nearly homeless required more imagination. This gumbo was much more refined.
“And what should I do if he passes my test?” Mary asked.
Polly dropped her spoon in her empty bowl. “Give him some of this gumbo. This shit’s good.”
With Mary on board, Kendell headed back out to the bus with the others. Cheesecake and her pups marched along behind her as if they were part of the entourage. The puppies had a way of ramming into the back of Kendell’s feet each time she stopped.
“You guys stay here. You all did a wonderful job, but we’re not going to be in trouble this time. There’s no reason for you all to go demon-puppies on us again.”
But Cheesecake wasn’t having it. With all the human passengers except Kendell aboard the bus, she launched herself into the packed vehicle and climbed onto Myles’s lap. And where their mama went, the puppies followed.
Kendell took a stick from under the oak tree that shaded the house and traced her veve in the dirt. “Once we have all seven locations and guardians, there will be a ceremony. Leave this here until it’s over.”
Mary gave her another hug with all the warmth and affection of a grandmother. “Be safe. You’ll always have sanctuary on our side of the river.”
* * *
“Where to next?” Minerva yelled from the front seat of the VW. Even without other vehicles, the road noise made it hard to hear her at the back of the van.
Myles held Doughnut Hole tightly and rubbed his ears. He was going to need all the support he could get. “The Scratchy Dog.”
He lurched forward as the brakes screeched the van to a stop. “Why?” The question came from every member of the band, including Kendell.
“Isn’t it obvious? If Colin passes Mary’s test, that would prove that he’s embraced traditional New Orleans culture. His next stop would logically be the club. Live music is ingrained in this city. Who better to represent that than Polly Urethane and the Strippers?” The bus sat motionless on the side of the road.
“He has a point,” Sanguine said.
“Bullshit he does.” Not surprisingly, Polly was the first to register her objection. He wondered if she’d ever agree to one of his ideas.
“Think about it,” he said. “Colin is going to be crossing you women at some point. Making the band the guardians of the second gate means you don’t have to wait until the end and make the harder choice. If you accept him, there will be five more chances at rejections. Plus, there are five of you.”
“Four,” Kendell said. “If I accept Baron Samedi’s proposal to be the final gate, I’ll have to recuse myself from this judgment.”
From the passenger seat, Scraper turned to Myles. “With your girlfriend abstaining, we’ve got an opening. With four votes, we’re likely to be deadlocked—so to speak.”
“I’d be honored, but my expertise doesn’t extend to music. I’d be useless in knowing whether he was truly appreciating your performance. Anyway, the vote will have to be unanimous for him to move on.”
Polly looked at each woman and received nods, though not all were enthusiastic. “We’re all in unison, so let’s get to the gig.”
As the bus crossed the bridge, the adorable two-pound puppy that snuggled against Myles’s chest for kisses grew into a fifty-pound monster with short wiry hair. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to that. You don’t think he’ll do that when we get back to our reality, do you?”
The dog in Kendell’s lap had become a she-wolf three times as big as Doughnut Hole. “I’ve been a little worried about that. Cheesecake only changes when we’re in some other dimension, but these puppies come from hell. Will we even be able to take them home with us?”
He hadn’t considered the idea that the pups would somehow be left behind. “Even though Mary offered to take them, you’re not going to separate Cheesecake from her little ones. That’s just not going to happen. So I guess we’ll find out.”
Minerva pulled the bus up to what had become their usual parking space right in front of the club.
Lynn did her best to keep Muffin Top the hell beast from slobbering all over her arm. “If we all agree to be gate guardians, what are we doing here?”
Myles found it hard to carry on a conversation with a hellhound on his lap. “It’s your home turf. We need to figure out what you’ll be dealing with should he arrive.”
Kendell handed Cheesecake to Scraper, who was helping clear the beasts from everyone’s laps. “Plus, I need to mark the room with the veve so Baron Samedi knows this is the second gate.”
Lynn nodded as she got out. “And nothing ever goes exactly according to plan. Got it.”
Myles walked into the club that had been the site of so many paranormal events and jumped up onstage. Kendell had the smirk she reserved for moments when she thought he was being stupid. “One little offer of collaboration, and he thinks he’s part of the band.”
Doughnut Hole jumped up with him and lay at his feet as if to say, I’ve got you.
“I was just trying to envision how he’d approach the band, thank you very much,” Myles said. “Mary will get plenty of notice as he crosses the bridge into her dimension, but I suspect he will show up here during a gig—not exactly the ideal situation for being confronted by a devil looking to be freed from hell.”
Kendell quickly stopped ribbing him and sat on the edge of the stage, petting Doughnut Hole’s head. “You’ve got a valid point. Is there any way you will be able to detect his presence?”
Myles shared a special connection to Baron Malveaux, who made up a lot of Colin Malveaux’s soul, but it wasn’t a relationship he wished to remember. “Ever since my possession, I get this feeling across my skin when he’s around. It’s not goose bumps but more like blind fucking hatred from every cell of my body.”
“That should work.” She picked up a piece
of chalk from the Drink Specials board and started drawing the veve.
He stared at it for a moment. “That’s not Baron Samedi’s veve.”
“I’m basing it on Baron Samedi’s symbol, but as the gates are going to be in different places, the map will be different.”
He’d thought the drawing was just a means to call the baron forth as they performed the final ceremony. “You’re leaving Colin a map? Do you want him to escape?”
“I want him to continue following the breadcrumbs. Plus, if I drew Baron Samedi’s veve, our voodoo loa wouldn’t know where we’ve set the gates. It has to be this way to work.”
He wasn’t so sure. He also had the prickly feeling along his forehead that she wasn’t being completely honest. “You’re setting a trap.”
“I’m covering our bases.” She turned to the band. “Though I’ll be playing whatever number you decide is appropriate, I’m not part of this gate. It’s up to you to decide what you want him to prove.”
“That he’s not a scumbag.” Scraper had a way of cutting to the heart of the matter.
“Fair enough, but what, specifically, does that mean to us?” Minerva asked.
Polly crossed her arms over her stomach. It was a stance that said, You’re not going to like what I have to say. “He used us. Don’t get me wrong—I loved playing Jazz Fest. But his offer was bullshit. He was just trying to outmaneuver us. And he would have, too, if we hadn’t been careful.”
Kendell hated admitting when others were right. “So he shows up to the gig but doesn’t offer us anything? That seems awfully simple.”
“No.” Myles paced along the edge of the stage. “He needs to show he’s fully enjoying the performance with no ulterior motive—pure admiration for someone else’s endeavor with no jealousy or greed.”
Polly loosened her stance. “Is that something you can detect?”
“Can’t you? I’ve seen you up onstage. You know when someone’s into it, even if they’re just sitting in a booth and not out dancing.”
“Sometimes that means they’re more into it,” Polly said. “Someone out on the floor, shaking what they’ve got, is just crying for attention.”
Lynn leaned against the back wall and looked out at the room as though imagining the gig from the audience’s perspective. “Assuming he passes our test, which I think highly unlikely, what would we give him as a token of his passing the second gate?”
Everyone stared around the room in silence. Kendell pulled a generic plastic pick from her case. “Though I’m not involved with the judging, do you think it would be okay if I offered the tribute?”
Everyone in the room nodded in approval.
* * *
Asking people to watch over Colin was a bit like serving jury notices, only instead of looking for people who would be impartial, they were seeking out those most concerned about the verdict.
“I want to head back to Minerva’s garage,” Kendell said. “I’ve got an idea.”
The steamer trunks had been pushed back against the wall but didn’t need to be uncovered. Kendell dug down through the gowns for the artist’s portfolio filled with pastel drawings of the Malveaux children.
“I don’t get it,” Scraper said. “If you’re going to ask Serephine or Antoine to stand watch, shouldn’t we be headed for the Laurette mansion?”
Kendell thumbed through the drawings. She needed one that didn’t focus exclusively on just one child. “Miss Fleur was the baron’s wife while he was defeating his adversaries and putting their women to work in his brothels. She had to witness her husband’s depravity. If Colin accepts New Orleans culture, past and present, then his next stop should be his immediate family.”
“But we rescued her when we saved the women Baron Malveaux had imprisoned in Guinee,” Polly said. “We saw her cross over to the deep waters. How are you going to contact her?”
Kendell pulled out a drawing of a gangly preteen boy and his infant sister. “It’s like Baron Samedi said: time doesn’t have the same meanings here that we’re used to. I’m betting we can contact Miss Fleur while she was in exile in Our Lady of Mercy Convent. Colin will have to face her directly—not as a reincarnation or spectral ghost but as his wife, who’d cloistered herself from everyone she knew.”
She held the pastel drawing up to Myles for his impression. “That should work as her tribute, but our next portal will need to be guarded by both brother and sister.”
“I suspect they won’t mind sharing the duty.”
Myles dropped the lid of the trunk. “Since we can’t reach her over my psychometric network, we’ll need to haul this thing back to the convent and hope she’ll come to us. Kendell can use the drawing as our calling card, but this trunk will act as the gate itself. At least we’ve got Minerva’s bus this time.”
* * *
Kendell struggled out of the tight space of the bus’s back seat. “We also need to move the trunk in our reality when we get home. We’re not dealing with a different dimension this time, but a connection across time, so what exists at home has to match what’s going on here.”
Myles was slower at getting out of the bus. “It’s not going to be that easy. The nuns were happy to be rid of Miss Fleur’s possessions, and I’ve yet to enter their convent.”
The nuns had only been slightly more accepting of Kendell. “If they don’t agree to see us, we’ll find a way in. We have broken into more secure establishments—in both life and hell.”
It took the band handling the trunk while Sanguine pushed from inside to slide it out the back of the van. “This thing weighs a ton. Are you sure she doesn’t have some gold bullion hidden in a false bottom?”
Kendell did her best not to lose her hold on the bottom. “You should have seen me and Myles hauling it over to my apartment.”
“I’ll stop whining, then. Do you suppose there are any evil nuns guarding the convent in hell?” They dropped the heavy trunk at the front gate.
Myles leaned against thick brick and plaster wall. “That’s a really good question. According to Baron Samedi, the convent would be like another embassy in hell. I guess we’ll have to knock instead of barging right in.”
With no one in sight other than the gang, Kendell felt a little foolish knocking on the old wooden door of the convent. “Funny how fast I get used to a situation. How long do you think we should wait before we try opening the door?”
“I’d give it about a year.” The nuns had been much less accepting of Myles.
Kendell giggled at his attempt at humor. “You’ll go up against a devil in his own domain, but a couple of sweet little old nuns frighten you?”
The door opened a sliver, just as it had in life. The familiar hard brown eyes looked at her from below the black habit. “You’re not welcome here.”
“I’m Kendell Summer. This is my boyfriend, Myles. We visited you a few months ago about Miss Fleur.”
“I remember you. What do you want?”
Kendell stood back from the opening to show the old woman the trunk. “We need to return this.”
“This convent isn’t a lending library. You took possession of Miss Fleur’s things. That absolves us of any responsibility to her.” The door began to close.
“Tell her we’re here about her husband, the baron. We’ve found a way to keep him in hell.”
The Reverend Mother’s look changed from defiance to curiosity. “Why do you think I can talk to the dead?”
Kendell could tell the woman wasn’t from a different dimension. Everything about her looked and felt as real as every member of the group. “Because you’re here now. How is that possible?”
The flicker of a smile crossed the woman’s face. “How do you think we know when our pupils are misbehaving? We all have our little secrets.”
“So you’ll help us?”
The old nun looked around at the gang. “It’s not our way to join forces with swamp witches and voodoo priestesses, but over the years, Miss Fleur’s benefactors have been very gene
rous to our mission. It’s just the one trunk?”
With time being such an iffy proposition, Kendell wondered how much of that donated money had been at the bequest of the loas of the dead specifically for this moment. “Yes, sister. And I’ll need to talk to her.”
The stern woman didn’t look happy about the situation. “Very well. Leave the trunk inside the gate and come with me, but only you. Men aren’t welcome here.”
While they had the trunk off the ground, Kendell discreetly drew the veve on the bottom, where the nuns wouldn’t see it. She whispered to Myles, who stood at the side of the gate, “I don’t want to push our luck.”
Kendell intercepted the band as they left the convent. “You girls should head back to the bank. We need to find out how Baron Samedi is coming along with his end of the ceremony. If I’m doing these veves wrong, I need to know now. Once I’m done with my meeting with Miss Fleur, Myles and I will go to the Laurette mansion to contact Serephine and Antoine. To get there before Colin, though, we’re going to need to borrow the bus.”
Minerva gave her van a worried look. “Are you sure? We can all stop by the bank together on our way to the Garden District.”
Kendell looked adoringly at her demonic dogs, who stood watch outside the van. “We’re trying to win over a teenaged boy and his young sister. I don’t want to scare the crap out of them. It’ll take all of you guys to persuade the pups not to follow the bus.”
Minerva nodded slowly and pulled out her keys. “For your own protection, don’t take her above thirty-five, and you might want to limit your stops and starts.”
13
Colin turned away from his office windows and his search for the VW. Losing sight of the van wasn’t what irritated him. “Samedi must have use of that fucking cane. That’s got to be it.” His sense of what was going on in his city was obscured.
The question was whether to go after Baron Samedi, or try to anticipate the meddlesome kids’ next move. He could feel his powers being walled off like a game of Tron, and he was playing catch-up.
