Royal Street

by Suzanne Johnson

  I looked at Gerry through a blur of tears. I’m not like you.

  He turned in my direction and his gaze shifted to me. I held my breath as he frowned, cocked his head, and watched me a moment before turning back to Marie.

  Either he hadn’t recognized me, or he was pretending. Either way, safe to breathe again.

  I walked around two women with their hands crossed over their chests, swaying to the drumbeats, and found a spot where I could get a better look at Jake but still stay toward the back of the onlookers. I swayed a little with the emotion of the people around me, trying to blend in. I reached down to touch the staff, but kept swaying. Just one of the faithful, waiting for something to happen.

  Jake was propped upright, mostly. Ropes bound his knees to the marble column and his hands had been secured behind it. His head slumped forward but he appeared to be supporting his own weight. I breathed a sigh of relief. He was alive. So far, so good.

  He shifted his head slightly to the right, watching something behind him. I squinted, and caught a quick view of gold fur. Gandalf was working the ropes with his teeth, trying to free Jake. So far, the wolves hadn’t spotted him. If they scented him, I hoped he’d smell like canine rather than human.

  A scream from the crowd riveted my attention back to Marie Laveau, who had fallen to the ground, stunned. The black mamba rose vertically as if standing on its tail, and the blasted thing had to be at least seven feet tall. The crowd backed away from the fire as the air around the snake shimmered and changed form. Their momentum carried me back with them.

  The Baron Samedi had arrived at his own party.

  Women shrieked; several fell to the ground. I wasn’t sure where the worshipping ended and the fainting began. As long as the people in front of me stayed put, I didn’t care.

  He was a sight to behold. Like his incarnation in the safety of my library, Samedi stood tall, wearing a top hat, bow tie, and tails, black pants and red cummerbund, but no shirt. The frog necklace had disappeared so the skeleton painted on his body gleamed white in the firelight against his dark skin.

  He reached down to a cage I hadn’t noticed earlier and pulled out a squawking rooster, hanging by its feet from his right hand. It struggled, all bristling feathers and snapping beak. He swung it over his head a few times, laughing in that melodic voice that had hypnotized me earlier, and slung it into the fire. The rooster screamed as it ran around the circle in flames, causing the spectators to retreat farther. The smell of singed feathers assaulted my nostrils and increased the nausea. Hand back on the staff.

  Several onlookers began running toward the cemetery gates, and before I realized it, the circle had thinned until there were only two rows of people between me and the main attraction. I pulled the hoodie as far as it would go over my face. It knocked out my peripheral vision so I couldn’t keep track of how Gandalf was progressing in his attempt to free Jake, but at least it provided me a little more cover.

  Unburdened of his rooster, the Baron straightened his bow tie and brushed off the cuffs of his tuxedo jacket. “Greetings, my followers, especially you, my dear Marie.” He turned to smile down at the voodoo priestess, who sat on the ground at his feet. The imperious demeanor she showed while dancing with the snake—and taunting me in my library—had been replaced by a look of rapture.

  Samedi’s voice, as when he’d talked to me, vibrated with the cadence of old New Orleans, soft and lilting, with French and Spanish influences. Sensual, but deadly.

  The people in front of me murmured and shifted restlessly. Several more slipped toward the exit, leaving a trail of fear that sent my hand reaching for the staff.

  I wanted nothing more than to run out of the cemetery with them, but that wasn’t an option. I was so not cut out to be a hero. A hero wouldn’t shake and feel like throwing up. A hero would whip out a staff or a gun and take charge of the situation. I picked the tallest guy still among the onlookers and wedged in behind him.

  Smiling as Samedi blathered on about how powerful he was becoming, Gerry looked relaxed and pleased with himself. I couldn’t reconcile the Gerry I loved with this man who could sit smiling while Jake suffered. As soon as Gandalf freed Jake, I would slip out the gates and then decide what to do about Gerry. Jake wasn’t here by choice. As much as it hurt, he had to be my priority.

  I shifted my gaze to check on Gandalf’s progress when I felt a hand on my back. A woman pushed me forward as she tried to get a better view. Muttering at the interruption, the tall man in front of me stepped aside, and I found myself in the front row. I had a clear view of Samedi.

  He also had a clear view of me. I jerked my head downward, pulling my face as far into the hoodie as I could, but I felt the weight of his gaze. Imaginary ants crawled across my scalp, and a cold tingle marched up my spine, even with my hand on the staff.

  “Our guest of honor has arrived!” Samedi’s voice was a delighted singsong of rhythm. “Join us, won’t you, little wizard?” I backed up and turned to run—right into the arms of Jean Lafitte.

  Not again.

  “A pleasure to see you, Jolie.” Lafitte’s dark-blue eyes shone, and I got a close-up view of the full lips and scarred jawline before he spun me around and propelled me forward. Traitorous wretch.

  “Our deal’s off, turncoat.” I struggled as he forced me toward the center of the circle, in front of Samedi. I dug into his hands with my nails and wished he’d put a body part close enough for me to bite.

  “You said you’d stay out of this, you jerk.” What a fool. Trusting a pirate. And not just any pirate. Freakin’ Jean Lafitte.

  I finally pulled away from him, leaving him holding the oversize hoodie.

  “Caution, Jolie,” he whispered. “You are safer with me.”

  Yeah, like I’m trusting him again. I circled the fire, keeping the flames between me and Samedi. The old god’s smile was so broad it barely fit on his face.

  I pulled Alex’s gun and pointed it at Samedi in a two-handed stance that probably looked cool, but had a far more practical purpose—the pistol was so big I couldn’t hold it otherwise. I remembered to release the safety but didn’t know whether the gun was still loaded with regular ammo or whether it even would work on a voodoo god, assuming I could hit him. I heard the rustle of feet as the few remaining onlookers decided they had something better to do with their evening. Marie Laveau slipped into the shadows as well. I kept the gun trained on Samedi.

  “No need for violence, Drusilla, plus your little gun will not hurt me.” Samedi’s voice was a smooth-tasting poison—felt nice going down, then you were dead. “I have promised your old friend Monsieur Lafitte his own time with you before our business begins, is that not right, Jean?”

  Maybe discounting Jean had been a mistake. I glanced back to where I’d last seen him and flinched as an arm slid around me from behind. He jerked me against him, reaching around to pull Alex’s pistol from my grasp and toss it on the ground. Dominique You emerged from the shadows to retrieve it. The look he gave me wasn’t friendly. Great. At least one of Jean’s hench-pirates was present and feeling vengeful.

  “What happened to the bit where I was safer with you?” I elbowed Jean hard in the ribs, but all it got me was a hiss and the business end of a knife pressed below my ear.

  I hadn’t handled the staff in a while, and Jean’s emotions filtered through my defenses. Nerves and fear. Jean was afraid of Samedi, which I did not find reassuring.

  “Mais oui, Baron. I would have my time with her.” Jean’s breath was hot in my ear as he pressed the point of the knife into the side of my neck and flicked it. I felt a quick, sharp pain and a thin trickle slither toward my collarbone. I shuddered as his tongue licked the blood from my skin.

  He nibbled at my neck and whispered, “You shouldn’t have come, Jolie. I had to take your gun, but Samedi hasn’t seen the staff and I know what it can do. However, I hope your aim has improved.” He bit my ear hard enough to make me yelp.

  Samedi prowled the edge of the clearing,
watching us, eyes bright. Laughing and singing, enjoying his role as voyeur.

  This was a ridiculous three-ring circus, and it was time one of the onlookers got off his butt and helped.

  “Gerry!” I screamed at him, and he jerked his rapt gaze from Samedi to me. I’d never seen him look so vacant. He blinked twice and frowned, like he thought he’d seen me before somewhere but couldn’t quite remember who I was.

  Finally, insight hit me like a mallet. Gerry had been enthralled. No wonder he’d just smiled vaguely while everything went to hell around him. Samedi’s seductive voice had almost lured me into my own summoning circle. Gerry would have been even more vulnerable working with the Baron in the Beyond, away from his magic.

  How much of Gerry’s behavior had been done under Samedi’s influence? Had the old god kept him so zombied out he couldn’t think or act on his own? Or was I still trying to make excuses for him?

  Didn’t matter. Right now, I had to reach him.

  “Gerry, keep your eyes on me and think,” I said, keeping my voice level. “Look at what’s happening here. More innocent people are going to be killed.”

  He shook his head, trying to shake the cobwebs loose. “DJ? I told you not to come here.” He looked back at Samedi, who caught his gaze and held it. Damn.

  Gerry smiled. “You can join us, daughter. You’ll make us stronger.”

  God, he was lost. Completely and utterly lost.

  I felt Jean at my back. “Focus, Drusilla,” he whispered. “You must focus on the Baron.”

  Samedi stepped between me and Gerry. “Your father is right. Will you be my partner now, or my sacrifice?”

  He raised his arms to the side and began a slow, sinuous dance, chanting in an unfamiliar language. Maybe the freak was singing to me, or trying to hypnotize me. Thank God I hadn’t had time to guzzle a translation potion.

  Avoiding Samedi’s eyes, I looked back at Gerry, who stood up and motioned for me to come to him. Jean held me firmly in place, but he needn’t have bothered. I felt safer with the pirate now, which was a sad, sorry state of affairs.

  And I’d owe the pirate one really fine house if we made it out of this.

  “You must decide what you want to do,” Jean whispered as he nibbled at my neck again.

  “Tsk, tsk, Jean.” Samedi chided the pirate with a grin that caused Jean to take a step backward, dragging me with him. Apparently, whispering wasn’t on the list of freedoms he’d been granted to enjoy at my expense.

  “Pardon, Baron.” Jean gave Samedi a big grin. “I was overcome with passion.”

  Oh brother. Still, I had to admire Jean’s cool. He might be afraid of Samedi, but wasn’t showing it. Of course, he’d had a few centuries to practice his technique.

  Samedi turned to Gerry, who was talking with a sense of urgency now, gesturing toward me.

  A spark of hope ignited. Maybe Gerry had snapped out of the enthrallment. Maybe he could still control Samedi and salvage this mess.

  “You dare threaten me, wizard?” Samedi laughed and signaled to one of the drummers, who set his instrument aside and pulled a knife from his belt. He didn’t speak, but the menace was clear.

  Gerry paled and slung an arm toward Samedi. I’d seen the move hundreds of time. He could fling enough physical magic to kill—at least injure—anything that got in his way.

  Except it didn’t work. Samedi stood still while the magic passed through his body and dissipated. His laughter echoed around the cemetery and raised goose bumps on my arms.

  Gerry backed up, his gaze darting from Samedi to me.

  “Bring her to me, Jean.” Samedi turned his back on Gerry, confident his magic was useless.

  Jean had lessened the pressure of the knife to my throat, but still held me firmly against him. I could feel his rage building. Anger with Samedi was fast outweighing his fear, and surges of it pulsed across my skin where he touched me.

  “You have seen both of our guests tonight, your father and your young man.” Samedi spoke to me but gestured toward Gerry and Jake like a game-show host displaying the grand prizes behind doors number one and two. Door number one, Jake, still hadn’t raised his head, and I’d lost sight of Gandalf. He was out there in the shadows, waiting for an opening. At least I hoped he was.

  Door number two, Gerry, stared at the ground. His shoulders rose and fell with the force of his breathing, and he lifted his gaze as if he could feel the weight of my eyes on him. I saw reason returning, thoughts starting to coalesce. And horror freezing his features. God help me, I’d almost rather he remain in his clueless state than see him paralyzed by guilt and fear, knowing his powerful magic—the thing that defined him—was useless.

  Maybe he could help, or maybe he’d lapse back into enthrallment. I couldn’t wait to find out. Jake couldn’t wait.

  “You don’t want them, Baron. Let them go, and I won’t fight you.” My voice sounded a lot braver than I felt, maybe because of my Jean Lafitte energy snack.

  I heard the pirate hiss behind me. He didn’t like my tactic. Neither did Gerry. He labored to his feet, weaving precariously.

  Samedi clicked his teeth in delight. “So you want to make a deal with me?” He put a finger to his mouth and rolled his eyes heavenward. “The problem is that I do not think one little elfling such as yourself is a fair exchange for both a wizard and a human.”

  He paused again in a pantomime of indecision. “I think an equal exchange is fairer. You choose which one shall have his freedom—your father or your young man—and which one will die. Deciding who lives and dies is usually my task, but I will share that power with you tonight. You will find it intoxicating. It is my gift to you for agreeing to be my partner.”

  Talk about a warped worldview. I looked at Jake’s slack form, blood in his hair, and then at Gerry, who weaved on his feet and watched me in dismay. I was paralyzed. How could I possibly make that choice and live with the consequences?

  With a hand signal from Samedi, one of the red wolves crept closer to Gerry, while the other, the bigger one, approached Jake from the side and nipped his arm.

  Jake’s head snapped up, and Gandalf sprang from the shadows behind him, teeth bared. He’d been hanging back, waiting to see where he’d be needed, and I felt a surge of love and fear that left me breathless.

  Wolf and shifter tangled in a snarling ball of fur and fangs before breaking apart and racing into the darkness. A high-pitched yelp followed by a howl raised my own hackles, and then the wolf came trotting back to sit by Jake, blood dripping from its muzzle.

  I choked on a scream. It didn’t mean Alex was dead, I reminded myself. He was tough, and he was smart.

  Jean squeezed my arm so hard the pain revived my focus. “Breathe deeply, Jolie,” he whispered. “You will have to fight.”

  Jake raised his head and stared at me from a bruised, bloody face.

  I closed my eyes and looked at the ground. Alex. What had I done?

  I had done nothing. That was the problem.

  CHAPTER 41

  Jean eased the staff from its makeshift holster and settled it into my right hand, wrapping my fingers around it.

  “It is time, Drusilla,” he whispered.

  Warmth from the staff radiated through me and cleared my head. My heart pounded, and my blood raced hot and wild. I could feel every sensation on the surface of my skin.

  I stepped away from Jean.

  Gerry made a hesitant move toward me. “DJ, get out of here,” he said, his voice strained but sounding more like the Gerry I knew. “Run to the Presbytere—there’s a transport there. Go home. Tell the Elders.”

  Samedi stood in place, looking amused as his eyes traveled between Gerry and me. “Wizards are fascinating creatures, struggling with their power and their feelings. You”—he looked at Gerry—“will not be saved by the Elders you have betrayed, while you”—eyes back to me—“will help me defeat them, either willingly or not.”

  “That would be not,” I said, the staff vibrating in my hand. I dare
d a look into Samedi’s eyes, and nothing happened. The staff seemed to be protecting me from his glamour, which meant its magic might work on him as well. I pointed it at him.

  He laughed again. “Your magic does not work very well in the Beyond, wizard. Did you not see your father’s pathetic demonstration? And you have not learned to use your old magic. Such a waste.”

  I felt a moment of doubt, but the staff sent electric pulses through my arm. It had plenty of power. I willed it to strike, and red ropes of flame flew from its end, so bright I had to squint against the light. The ropes shot past Samedi and wrapped themselves around the top of a tombstone three feet to his left. The marble exploded in a shower of flying rocks and dust—not exactly what I was going for, yet again. I really needed to work on my aim.

  Samedi’s eyes widened briefly when the rope trick started. By the time the tombstone exploded, he had disappeared.

  I lowered the staff, irritated, and looked around. Samedi’s helpers were gone now except for the two wolves that guarded Gerry and Jake. Still no sign of Alex.

  I shifted the staff to my left hand, pulled one of the four small vials out of my right pocket, then popped off the top. Another Russian roulette of nonlethal charms that I prayed would work. For once, I was glad my magic was ritual rather than physical.

  I had almost forgotten Jean behind me until he shouted. I spun in time to see the black mamba rising toward me, mouth open, fangs extended. I tossed the contents of the first vial as it struck, then rolled out of the way. A dark, poisonous mist hit the snake square in the fangs. It made a hissing sound, then vanished. I ground my teeth. The mist potion was gone now. Fighting Samedi was like trying to lasso smoke.

  I crept from behind a tombstone and walked around the circle where the crowd had been, looking at shadows. I had another vial open in my right hand. How many forms did Samedi have? Snake, human. I knew there were more.