by E G Bateman
She rolled her eyes, followed, and noted the flickering light from the many candles around the apartment. He’d already started the ritual.
Reverently, he placed the ring onto a bed of herbs and flowers in a wooden bowl and turned to her. His eyes flashed in the candlelight as he looked at her with hunger. It was almost her favorite part. This had all been totally worth it.
Jamal approached her with an intensity in his eyes that thrilled her. As he undressed her silently, her heart skipped a beat. He led her into a circle he’d marked out with chicken bones, picked up two cups, and passed one to her. She sniffed the contents. The drinks always smelled disgusting and they tasted worse, but they made her fly. She drank without hesitation.
He muttered words with a creole lilt to his voice that—being from Boston—he didn’t usually have.
While she admitted to being somewhat naive regarding Jamal, she was generally cynical by nature and suspected this was all bullshit. That said, the sex was great. They’d complete his little ritual and get down to it.
Entirely focused, he dipped his fingers into a dish of oil fragranced with herbs and trailed them over her body while he muttered words she didn’t understand.
Finally, he took the ring from the wooden bowl and indicated to her to kneel. Once he’d slid it on her finger, he cried, “I beg and implore to speak to the lady of New Orleans of old, the owner of this ring, and to see her made flesh again.”
I hope she won’t be disappointed to find herself in my skinny white body, Amy thought as she played along.
The drink began to take effect and she closed her eyes as she swished her long blonde hair around. She hoped they would get to the best part soon.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“You have to know where it is.” Scott hovered in Lexi’s peripheral vision, seated on his bed in their New Orleans hotel room.
Her eyes strained as she stared unblinkingly at a toothbrush, the subject of her latest lesson in magic. “I can see where it is. I’m looking directly at it.”
“Not only with your eyes.” His voice had taken on a Zen-like tone that made her want to smack him—or maybe worse.
“What else am I supposed to look with? My teeth?” She shifted her position on the end of her bed but kept her gaze on the toothbrush on the table.
“With every fiber of your being—you must know where the object is in the universe.”
“I know where in the universe it will be.” She pushed the words out and clamped her jaw again.
Scott cleared his throat. “Try not to have thoughts like that. If it ends up there, I will not be happy.”
Despite the cool, air-conditioned room, prickles of sweat broke out on her forehead and neck. Her hand was clasped over the unhealing scar on her arm, the reservoir of magic she borrowed from him.
“Now, think about where you want the object to appear. Without looking at its destination, command it to be there.”
Her gaze flicked involuntarily to the opposite side of the table, where the toothbrush was supposed to appear.
“Shit!” Lexi scowled as the magical connection was broken. The energy built up within the toothbrush careened it across the room and imbedded it in the wall. “There, I moved it.”
“Hang on. I’ll put it back and we can start again.” Her friend climbed off his bed. He had almost taken hold of the toothbrush when he jumped away in alarm as it was joined in the wall by a knife. He gaped at her.
“If you take that toothbrush out of the wall, you won’t wake up tomorrow morning.” She bounced the tip of another blade against her fingers, ready to throw.
“Fine, it’s your toothbrush.” He rolled his eyes and returned to his bed to sit cross-legged. “Look, you always complain that your legacy abilities aren’t as good as they should be. Building up your ability to use magic will help with that. If you’re not strong enough to lift a car, you can lift it with magic. Not fast enough to save a life? Save them with magic.”
She pulled her hair out of the ponytail and rubbed her scalp. “I don’t understand why this is so hard. The other things I’ve tried to do with magic work fine.”
“Some things are harder. Teleporting is hard but you’ll get it. And you need to break the bad habit of touching the scar when you draw magic.” He stretched his head to the side and cracked his neck.
Lexi looked at her unhealing scar. “I’m empty again. Why does it simply drain out of me like that? Even when I don’t use it?”
“I don’t know. But as long as we stick with each other, it’ll never be a problem.”
She leaned back on her bed. “Maybe you should spend time training. You don’t practice weapons training nearly enough, or hand-to-hand combat.”
“So, you can get me in a headlock and give me a wet-willy again? I don’t think so.” Scott poked his nose.
“Are you picking your nose?” She screwed her face up in distaste.
“I’m not picking it. Magic tickles the hairs in my nostrils. It’s so annoying.” He moved to sit in front of the mirror and held his hand out, and a little pair of scissors appeared. With his nose raised, he gazed up his nostrils and went to work.
“Gross!” She threw a cushion at him. “There's a mirror in the bathroom for that.”
A knock at the door drew their attention. He looked at Lexi, whose bed was closest to the door. She returned the look and didn’t move. Finally, he rolled his eyes dramatically, flicked his hand, and the door opened.
“Hello, boys and girls. How are you settling in?” Dick entered with Marcel in his arms and waved the puppy’s little paw at them. At the sight of the sorcerer in front of the mirror, he put the dog onto Lexi’s bed, walked over, and sat beside him. "What are you watching—anything good?"
“Nothing. I'm trimming my nose hair.” Scott waved the scissors.
“Scott!” Dick moved away from him. “Surely there's a mirror in the bathroom for that.”
“Fine!” The young man stood and retreated to the bathroom.
Dick sat before the mirror and ran a finger along his eyebrow. "Wait, can you wind this back before you go?"
Scott turned with a look of disgust. “No. I won’t invade someone's privacy for your entertainment."
“You did it before.” The vampire sulked. He shifted his gaze to Lexi in the mirror and raised an eyebrow at her. She shrugged.
The request made her think about the woman who had died in their Palm Springs motel room before they had arrived. Her friend had insisted on using magic to reverse what the mirror had captured to watch the woman’s tragic last minutes. She glanced at Scott. He didn’t meet her gaze, though. She knew that empathy and emotion played a big part in sorcery and made for a controlled, compassionate mage.
Without the empathy, he’d be a monster like Caleb was.
She still wondered if he was too tenderhearted for the job.
"That was different.” Scott turned away and managed two more steps.
Dick finally dragged himself away from his reflection. “How is it different?”
"It was my way of making her last moments... I don't know...not be alone." He shrugged, walked into the bathroom, and closed the door.
The vampire turned to her. “He’s annoying and adorable, all at once—” He stopped speaking when he saw her hold her sharp little knife by the tip of the blade and tap Marcel gently on the nose with the handle.
Lexi said, “Bop,” when she tapped the puppy’s nose, then moved the handle out of the way when he tried to bite it. “What can I say? He's a genius wrapped in a Care Bear inside a sulky teenager.”
“I heard that,” the sorcerer shouted through the bathroom door.
She looked up and noticed Dick staring at her hand with a frown. A little confused, she glanced at the blade in her hand. “Oh! right.” She pocketed the knife and stroked the dog’s head.
The vampire stood. “Well, before you slice and dice my little companion, I have to take him out for his evening constitutional. And I’ll visit some old friend
s—if I still have any here. This hotel simply won't do.”
At his dismissive tone, she glanced around the luxurious room and wondered what was wrong with it.
Scott stuck his head out of the bathroom. “Are you kidding? It’s better than what we usually get by a mile. You’ve seen what we usually get. There’s a gym downstairs and a pool on the roof. There are batteries in the TV remote, and it has air-con.”
Dick flicked his hand toward him. “Oh! it’ll do for you. I mean me—it won’t do for me.”
Lexi stopped rubbing Marcel’s belly. “What’s wrong with it—not enough designer furniture and half-naked young men, Meester Levine?”
He ignored her. “People in this town know me. I can’t be seen in a hotel room with floor to ceiling windows. Exactly like I can’t be seen drinking margaritas on Bourbon Street in the middle of the day.”
She handed Marcel to him. “You can’t spend all day hiding.”
“I’ll spend all day sleeping,” he explained.
Scott returned to the room, “But you don’t have to do that anymore.” He stared from Dick to Marcel with a grin.
The vampire passed the puppy to him. “Have you ever switched shifts? It’s like I’ve worked nights for over sixty years. It’ll probably take me another sixty to get used to being awake during the day.”
Lexi nodded. “The thought had never occurred to me. Although I’m surprised you don’t own a place here already.” She watched as he stepped to the mirror again.
He’s probably checking that his face is still perfect.
“I did once, but Katrina had other ideas. I donated the land to the victims of the hurricane.”
Scott put Marcel onto the floor and they watched as he padded to Dick, sat at his feet, and wagged his stumpy little tail from side to side.
He looked curiously at the vampire. “What will you do, then?”
“I have acquaintances who might be able to help. I think I’ll—” He stopped speaking when he noticed the toothbrush and knife protruding from the wall. “Do you know—never mind.” He shook his head. “I’ll go see them now. Would you mind looking after Betsy? Maybe you could take her for something to eat? She’s getting dressed.” He turned to Scott. “Apparently, she’s wearing a new dress. She’s quite excited about it so be a decent chap and tell her she looks nice or something.”
Dick opened the door and stepped into the hallway. He turned to them. “And please, make sure she doesn’t get into trouble while I’m gone.”
Lexi followed him to the door. “What trouble will a little old lady get into?” Dick was already heading down the hallway with Marcel doing tiny gallops next to him to keep up. She turned to Scott. “So basically, he’s gone for a night out with his pals and saddled us with his eighty-year-old friend to look after. Why bring her if he intended to simply dump her on us? Dick is such a dick.”
“I think it’s sweet how protective he is of her.” He checked the time. “It’s been a long day of traveling. It’s already ten pm and we don’t want to tire her out. Maybe we could take her to the hotel restaurant for a little supper before bed.” He retrieved his wallet from the dresser.
“Who’s ready to hit the Quarter?”
The two friends looked toward the still open door and Betsy, who obviously wore her enchanted necklace. She looked like an eighteen-year-old and her dress was so short and tight that Scott’s ears turned red. “You look nice,” he said in a strangled tone.
Oh, dear!
“We’re almost ready.” Lexi’s voice sounded a little strained, even to herself.
“Okay, I’ll get my purse.” Betsy beamed at them before she turned and headed to her room directly across the hall.
Lexi whirled to face her friend. “What have you done to her?”
“What? Why are you looking at me?” Scott shrugged as he put his wallet into his pocket.
She pointed across the hall. “She didn’t look like that in Cabo.”
“She wore that frumpy waitress dress in Cabo.” He shrugged again. “This must be what she looked like when she was young.”
“No one has ever looked like that. You have to fix it or we’ll have to spend the whole night peeling douchey guys off her.” She stormed past him and began to pick up various pointy objects and secrete them in the lining of her pants and vest.
The sorcerer shook his head vehemently. “I don’t think she’ll like that very much.”
Lexi spun and punctuated her words with prods on his chest. “I don’t think Mayor Todd will like that you made his mother look like a hooker.”
“Come on. To be fair, that’s the dress, not the necklace.”
Betsy walked out of her room and across the hall into theirs. She sighed. “I think we might have a problem.”
“Ya think? Sorry, I mean…what problem?” Lexi walked to the doorway and leaned against the open door.
“My ID says I’m eighty. Scott dear, could you rustle me up a new one?” She waved her fingers in pseudo magical waves in the air.
Scott looked at his partner.
She shook her head. “Sorry, Betsy, most of the bars in the French Quarter are run by supernaturals. A fake ID won’t work on them.” It wasn’t true but the woman wouldn’t know that. “How about Scott puts you safely into your fifties and you won’t be asked?”
Betsy took a step back and covered the necklace with her hand. Her gaze slid to the side and Lexi was convinced she was about to bolt down the hallway in her five-inch heels.
Finally, the woman sighed. “Thirties. Not a day over thirty-two.”
She nodded at Scott as Betsy headed into her room.
He muttered his incantation.
“Oh my!” Betsy said from across the hall a moment before she returned. Her body had lost its girlish frame and become curvier in very noticeable places. “Now you’re talking. This dress will never do. I need to change.”
Noticeably excited, she hurried to her room and closed the door.
The two friends stood side-by-side in the doorway of their room, their mouths in a perfect O.
Lexi recovered and punched Scott’s arm before she scowled at the closed door. “You made it worse.” When she received no answer, she glared at him. He blushed to the roots of his hair and she punched his arm again. “Try to remember she’s old enough to be your grandma.” She sighed. “This is all Dick’s fault. I liked him more when I thought he was dead.”
Chapter Thirty
Dick sauntered through the Quarter with Marcel. They’d walked several blocks and the streets had quieted around them.
He stopped and took in the sight of the shadow of Jesus projected from the statue on to the back of St. Louis Cathedral. When he looked down, the puppy was doing his business.
“Marcel, really. In front of Jesus—have you no respect?” He pulled a little bag out of his pocket and cleaned it up.
“Good boy.” He patted him on the head, tied the bag, and dropped it into a trash can.
That done, he turned his focus to a presence he’d been aware of for a few minutes. “You can come out, you know. I don’t bite. Well, only recreationally.”
A figure stepped from the shadows into the streetlight. “Hello, Mr. Levine. It’s been a long time,” said a deep creole voice.
The vampire studied the elderly African American man with grey dreadlocks who wore a monk-like cowl. He carried a staff with markings engraved on it and it was apparent that he leaned more heavily on it than he had in the past. “Hello, Joseph. It has. How are you?”
Joseph stopped at what was regarded in polite supernatural circles as a sensible distance away. “Happy and healthy and hoping to remain so.”
Dick raised an eyebrow. “Then is it wise to wander alone at night?”
“I’m never alone. The spirits are always with me.” The man spread his arms and a breeze swept through the street.
He sighed at the sudden cool breeze. “I don’t imagine your spirits would consider following me around while I’m here?”
“Faction? You’re kidding me—that’s still going on?” He shook his head, saddened by the revelation.
“Hostilities between the clans have simmered for years but it’s blown up in the last few days. Things are changing in the shifter community too, although that’s more civil. Everyone is restless. And here you are, coincidentally.” He drew the last word out as though looking for the lie in it.
Dick tilted his head as he considered what he’d heard. “What do your spirits tell you?”
Joseph smiled. “They tell me you need another bag.”
He looked down. “Marcel!” He slid his hand into his pocket again, thankful that he’d come prepared.
When he had tied the bag, the other man seemed to have made his mind up. “How about we get your dog a drink of water? He’s safer off the street. We have rats bigger than him.”
The vampire dropped the bag in the trash and lifted the puppy from the ground. “Don’t you listen to him, Marcel. You are ferocious. I’ll have you know Marcel recently saved me from a demented shifter.” He stroked the animal’s belly.
“Ah! A traitor to his kind.” Joseph laughed.
They entered a tiny bar. From the outside, it looked like a house, but Dick had known of it for many years. He observed that it was full of humans. They stopped speaking and looked up when he entered.
“Let’s go to the back.” The other man led him through the building.
They entered a courtyard with greenery and flowers climbing the walls to the surrounding balconies and a trickling water-feature on the rear wall.
“This is charming.” Dick took a seat in the little courtyard and sniffed the air. “Night-scented jasmine.”
A woman came out and placed two whiskey glasses on the table and a water-filled bowl on the ground, which Marcel all but leapt into.
He scratched the puppy’s head, then straightened to face his companion. “Kouman timoun yo ye?”
