Under the Blood Moon

by Tracie Provost

  Before I did that, however, there was a wound high on the boy’s thigh that needed to be tended. The blue material of his pants was difficult to cut through. This was the same type of material the youth in the crypt and the vampire Elder wore. A second set of hands appeared to help me. I looked up to see Josh’s green eyes regarding me intently.

  “Denim’s tough to cut, Ma’am. Thought you could use some help,” he answered my unasked question.

  “Merci,” I murmured and returned to my work. Between the two of us, we managed to expose the wound. Another bite. This one was unmistakable. I felt Josh stiffen beside me when he saw the perfect indention of the wolf’s teeth. He knew what it meant as well as I did.

  Sophie appeared with a basin of warm water and an array of towels, washcloths, and bandages. I quickly cleaned his visible wounds. Josh remained by my side, handing me items almost before I knew I needed them. “Can you help me roll him on his side, Monsieur? I need to check his back.”

  There were more claw marks here, but they were largely superficial. I quickly cleaned them while Josh held the boy steady and then gently rolled him onto his back again.

  In my current state, I was unsure how many of these wounds I would be able to heal magically. Placing one hand on the boy’s stomach and another on his sternum, I closed my eyes and began to call my power. It came from every cell in my body and gathered at my core. I dropped my shields and let the magic pour forth into the prone figure in front of me. I hummed with power, as did the boy. I let my head fall back as I pushed the last of the magic out of me and into the boy.

  I sat for a long moment with my eyes closed, trying to gather myself. I felt myself sway, and a hand reach over to steady me. I opened my eyes and the world gradually came back into focus. When I looked, it seemed that all but the wound on the boy’s side had closed. Even there, where there had been a gaping gash, only a small wound remained. I closed my eyes again and tried to call forth more magic. Only the faintest tingle came to my fingertips, and I knew that would not be enough. I was exhausted. Slowly and methodically, I bandaged the one remaining wound. By the time I had finished, I was swaying again.

  The man beside me lithely jumped to his feet and helped me stand. He led me to a nearby armchair and I nearly collapsed into it. “Thank you, Monsieur.”

  Sophie pressed a goblet of blood into my hand. I brought it to my lips and drained it. She quickly refilled it. I drank this offering slowly, and my limbs finally ceased trembling. I closed my eyes and let my head rest upon the back of the chair. I did not bother to reshield my power. Everyone here had felt it, so there was no point in hiding it. Also, I was too tired. It was then that I noticed the power level in the room had increased significantly. Part of that was my magic, but I realized that we had been joined in the room by two Elders. I knew without looking, one was Andre.

  When I opened my eyes, I saw both the Grandmaster and the newcomer regarding the figure on the sofa. The Elder was slightly taller than the Grandmaster, with the same dark hair and pale-blue eyes. The family resemblance was striking. They even had the same set to their shoulders. Finally the Grandmaster turned to me, a grim look on his face. “Madame, the wounds . . .” He trailed off, his question unasked.

  I knew what he needed to know. “The wounds were inflicted by a werewolf. He was bitten in two places.”

  The vampire Elder stated, “So he is infected.”

  I nodded sadly. “Oui. He will have his first change at the next full moon.”

  The Grandmaster looked stricken for a moment, and then his face became an inscrutable mask. The other man showed no emotion at all as he said, “Marc, I know Chris is our nephew, but speaking as your lieutenant, we cannot allow this transformation to take place. We have two options. Either he is embraced and made a vampire or killed.”

  “We would be condemning him to be perpetually sixteen if he were embraced, Gabe.”

  “Better sixteen than dead.”

  A voice by the door announced, “There is a third option.”

  All heads turned to Andre. “What do you mean ‘a third option’? I’ve never heard of anything, and I’ve been dealing with weres a long time.” The disdain for Andre and his ideas were clear in the lieutenant’s voice.

  Andre walked behind my chair and placed his hands on my shoulders. “It is voodoo. Juliette knows the ritual to counteract the transformation.” I was careful not to let my dismay show. I had been thinking about that very ritual and the viability of performing it, but I still resented Andre offering out my magic without consulting me. Especially if it was to be used on the Grandmaster and his lieutenant’s nephew. I did not want to contemplate the consequences if anything should go wrong. I might find myself staked again or worse. I did not know the men well, but one did not become Grandmaster of a city by kissing babies. You became Grandmaster by killing. A lot. Vampires took cities like medieval kings took countries, by conquest. And, if anything, a Grandmaster’s lieutenant was more deadly than the Grandmaster himself. Damn Andre for making me responsible for the boy’s life. I gave an involuntary shiver.

  “Is it permanent?” the Grandmaster wanted to know.

  I nodded. “During the initial ritual, a sigil is painted on the skin. That stops the first transformation. To have continued effect and protection, that symbol must be in constant contact with the person’s skin. It can be etched on an amulet, but if something happens to the amulet, the spell is broken and the transformation will occur on the next full moon. A better way is to tattoo the sigil somewhere on the body.”

  “Have you done this before?” asked the Grandmaster.

  “Once, out in the swamp.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Yes. It stopped the initial transformation, and he had not transformed by the time I was staked. That was several years after the initial ceremony. I do not know what happened after that, but I would assume it continued to be effective.”

  Gabe frowned slightly but said, “Well, even if it only worked for a couple of years, it would give him some time to grow up before being embraced.”

  Marc looked at me and asked, “When can you do the ritual?”

  “The ritual must take place on the first full moon after infection. There may be a problem, however.”

  “What?” Gabe asked.

  “It is a complicated spell and I do not know it by heart. I have only preformed it once. It is contained within one of my grimoires, but I do not know where they are.”

  “I have them at the house. They and the rest of your library are there. When we disappeared, Frederique made sure everything was kept safe,” Andre said.

  I nodded. “When is the next full moon?”

  Marc and Gabe shrugged. “In a couple of days, maybe a week,” Josh said.

  “No decisions need to be made tonight. Think about all of the options, talk it over, and if you have any questions, I am at your disposal to answer them. This is not a decision to be rushed.”

  Marc nodded gravely. “You are correct, Madame Grammont. Thank you very much for your assistance this evening.”

  I smiled. “I am glad that I could help. I will check in on him tomorrow evening, if that is permissible.”

  “Of course.”

  WE LEFT THE Gautier Mansion in silence. I waited for Andre’s rebuke, but it never came. Instead, he surprised me by praising my actions. “You have managed to gain Marc’s trust. This is something that no Aether, other than Frederique, has accomplished. I am not at all convinced that he really even trusts her.”

  “Why?” I asked, not at all sure I wanted to know the answer.

  “He mistrusts magic,” Andre answered.

  “But that is a Gnome coven trait. Even Claude was wary and he shared power with Frederique.”

  “Actually it is not the magic he mistrusts so much as those outside the Gautier family that pra
ctice occultism. The fact that Marc asked you to perform the werewolf ritual is nothing short of astounding. I am very proud of you.”

  “The Gautiers practice magic?” That was highly unusual. Those of the Gnome coven had a strong dislike of the art and almost never practiced it.

  “So it is rumored,” Andre said.

  “Rumors?” I was unable to keep the skepticism from my voice.

  “Normally I would not put much stock in such rumors, but several of our coven have seen things that make them suspicious.”

  “What sort of magic are the Gautiers supposedly practicing?”

  “Dark magic. Demon summoning.”

  “Only fools summon demons,” I said. “Why in the world would the Gautiers do that?”

  “Honore thinks it is how they stay in power.”

  “Honore thinks this,” I said dismissively. I despised Honore Rochan, and she returned the favor.

  We had been rivals almost from the moment I’d set foot in New Orleans. She’d never forgiven me for winning Andre’s love, and she hated that he’d sired me. It was just my luck that Hunters had not gotten her.

  “I know that you and Honore have had your differences in the past, but you must admit that she knows her craft,” Andre soothed.

  In that, my sire was correct. Honore certainly knew magic and was very good at it. “Yes,” I said grudgingly.

  “You know that Marc is not the only Grandmaster from the Gautier family.”

  I started to shake my head but then wondered where I had heard the Gautier name before. “Paris? I think I remember meeting a Lucien Gautier at Versailles when I was presented.”

  “Lucien is Marc’s father. He has been Grandmaster of Paris since the 13th century. Marc’s brother, Paul-David is Grandmaster of Montreal. There has been speculation for centuries about how they have managed to hold these cities for so long.”

  “So you think they are using Black Magic?” I asked.

  Andre shrugged. “I really don’t know. I’m an outsider. Gabe clearly does not like me. Marc and Sophie are polite to me, but we do not interact socially. I expect you might find yourself in a much better position to judge if they are practicing the Dark Arts.”

  “I am beginning to wish you had not told them about the voodoo ritual,” I said.

  “You will be fine. Besides, it is just a rumor,” Andre said, making light of what he had just told me.

  “Alright,” I said because I did not know how else to respond. I no longer seemed capable of gauging Andre’s moods or attitudes. He had always been a complicated man, but two hundred years apart had made things a good deal more confusing for me.

  He reached over and patted my hand. “Vampire politics has become an even more tangled web since you’ve been gone. I don’t want to overwhelm you with all of the details tonight. There will be plenty of time. I promise to begin explaining everything tomorrow.”

  We lapsed into silence again but thankfully the trip to Frederique’s was short, so the quiet did not become uncomfortable. Once again I required Andre’s assistance to unfasten the safety harness and exit the automobile. He led me up the familiar steps to Frederique’s front door. Before he could even knock, the Aether Mistress had thrown open the door. Pushing Andre aside, Frederique enveloped me in a hug. The tiny black woman smelled of jasmine and spice. “Juliette! This delights me!” She kissed me on both cheeks before sweeping me inside.

  Frederique peppered me with questions as she led me toward the parlor. The Aether Mistress was short of stature but more than made up for it in presence. Frederique was a force of nature, and I answered her the best I could. She seemed unconcerned that I did not have all of her answers and was genuinely happy to see me. I was delighted to see her and told her so. We had worked closely in the voodoo community for many years. There had, in fact, been much discussion as to whether Andre or Frederique would be my sire. As Andre had been my lover, and Frederique my close friend, it had mattered very little to me who finally embraced me. In the end, they decided that Frederique’s duties as Aether Mistress might not allow enough time to mentor me properly.

  We were stopped in the hallway by a tall, muscular black man. “Madame?” he inquired, his power pulsing with a tangy menace.

  “Oh, Alex, I’d like for you to meet Juliette de Grammont. Andre has finally found our missing coven member!”

  The fierce scowl dissipated and he gave me a graceful bow. “Enchanted, Madame Grammont. I have heard much about you.” Turning his attention to Frederique, he asked, “Does Madame require anything?”

  “There is a lovely ‘68 Rothchilde that I’ve been saving for a special occasion. I believe this is it. Bring that and three glasses,” Frederique answered.

  “Of course, Madame,” Alex said, bowing again and then hurrying off to do his mistress’s bidding.

  “I’m sorry about that, my dear. Alex is a bit overprotective,” Frederique told me. “He takes his position as my bodyguard very seriously.”

  “You need a bodyguard?” I had never heard of a coven leader hiring a nighttime guard. Even Grandmasters rarely employed them, fearing it made them look weak to other vampires. Human servants, who carried out business and guarded our sanctuaries during the day, were accepted and practically required, but never nighttime help.

  “All coven leaders have them now, as does the Grandmaster and his steward. Ever since Katrina. It is a very dangerous world we live in, but I do not wish to frighten you. Now that you are back, you will be well taken care of.”

  “Who is Katrina?” I asked, wondering if she was Marc’s consort or an unfortunate coven leader who had been attacked.

  “Not who but what. Katrina was a devastating hurricane that hit New Orleans several years ago. It destroyed the lower-lying parts of the city, killed thousands, and displaced many more. As the hurricane built itself in the Gulf, several enterprising vampires from Galveston and Corpus Christi came to New Orleans in the hopes of killing the Grandmaster and coven leaders in the chaos. Luckily, they did not succeed, but the Grand Council decided after the storm we all should have protection. It was a good thing we did, because there have been several coup attempts since. Other cities have been forced to take similar steps. The younger generation is hungry for power, and the older generation refuses to yield it to them.”

  “But that has always been the way,” I noted as we settled onto a comfortable beige sofa.

  “Yes and no. When we were young there was still much of the world left to be explored and settled. Young vampires hungry for power could always find a newly formed colony or fresh city. This is no longer the case.”

  I nodded my understanding. Successful coups in the Old World had been rare. They did happen, usually under the guise of human wars, and were always horribly bloody, but for the most part young, power hungry vampires moved into new territory and staked a claim. There were, of course, power struggles as several young vampires moved into the same area, but it usually ended in a power sharing agreement such as Claude and Frederique had enjoyed. I needed to ask how Marc had become sole Grandmaster, but it could wait.

  When Andre joined us a moment later, Frederique sent him to the kitchen, saying, “Juliette looks a bit pale. Do be a dear and get her a decanter of vitae.” After he had gone, Frederique said to me, “Marc called and said you’d probably be hungry. How fortunate you were there to heal his nephew. Marc thinks the world of the boy and now he thinks the world of you. He was effusive with his praise.”

  “I did not do that to gain favor. I healed the boy because it was the right thing to do and he would have died otherwise.”

  “Marc recognized that immediately. He mentioned that you did not even know that Chris was his nephew when you tended to him. Do you think you will be strong enough to perform the ritual?”

  “Yes. I have a few days. I will be fine.”

  �
�That is what I thought. I told Marc that the ritual itself was not a problem for you.”

  So that was the real reason for the call, to find out from my coven leader if I could really do what my sire claimed. I could not blame him. Andre would not be the first sire to overstate his childe’s abilities. “It should work for the boy. As you remember, it worked before, at least for a time.”

  “It worked for as long as the boy lived. I monitored his progress through the years to see if the lycanthropy ever surfaced. It did not. He died a natural death sometime in his sixties.”

  “That is good to know. I will miss the Sabbat to perform the ritual.”

  “What you do is more important than the meeting. I am sure you’d like to see everyone and meet the new coven members, but perhaps I can host a party later on,” Frederique said, soothing my worry and ending the discussion.

  Chapter 3

  WE DID NOT STAY much longer at Frederique’s. I drank the vitae that Andre had brought me, and then we toasted my return with the ‘68 Rothschild. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed a good wine. As much as I savored the taste, I did not protest when Andre suggested it was time to go home. I was tired. The irony of just having awoken from torpor and being exhausted was not lost on me. The simple fact was, I had done too much too soon. I had expended a tremendous amount of energy healing the Grandmaster’s nephew when I was not at my full power. I needed to rest and regain my strength.

  Once in the automobile, I asked Andre where home was now.

  “On Rue Burgundy, where it has always been,” Andre said, giving me a strange look.

  “So much as changed since 1797 that I was not certain my house still stood,” I answered defensively.

  “The house has mostly been spared. It sustained damage after a hurricane in 1915, so I had parts of it remodeled and upgraded. I hope you like the changes.” He reached over and patted my hand in a gesture of comfort.

  It took only a few minutes to arrive at my quaint Creole cottage. Andre pulled up in front of the house and parked at the curb. The exterior was now painted red, but I liked it better than the plain whitewash it had been. I was hopeful as Andre helped me out of the automobile and led me to the shuttered entrance.