by Bonnie Dee
“So, what do you think of Remy?”
Amy snapped at me for trying to arrange a set up with my cousin. We finished the dance in silence then I had no more excuse to hold onto her so I let her go.
One of my other male cousins claimed the next dance with Amy. Remy was right, there were never enough unattached women at family gatherings. I watched them dance for a few seconds then turned away.
My mother had arrived with her date. I went over to meet the guy and find out if she’d learned anything about the symbol on the dead girl. The fact that the same occult sign had been tattooed on the hand of the man Brian Addington met was odd and mysterious.
“Rick, chèr, I want you to meet Donald Major.” My mother’s smile was wide, but her eyes looked nervous.
The man appeared to be in his late fifties. He had thinning, gray-streaked brown hair and a pleasant, round face. He was completely average and would have been forgettable, except his bright, blue eyes were as mirthful as Santa Claus when he smiled. I saw Mamà’s reaction to that smile and knew she was hooked.
“Pleased to meet you.” I grasped his hand in a firm shake, letting none of my reservations show at this inexplicable, new relationship after all my mother’s years of solitude. “Ma’s told me so much about you,” I lied.
“And I feel as if I already know you,” Major replied. “Crime solving must be a very interesting line of work.”
“Well, I think my mom may have exaggerated what I do. It’s not that exciting but it pays the bills.” Sometimes.
I chatted with Mom’s new beau for about fifteen minutes, learned he was an accountant, an avid fisherman and loved old movies just like my mom. It was easy to see they were smitten with each other and I wondered shy she’d kept him a secret from me. At last Major tactfully left us alone while he went to get drinks.
“Wow, Ma. This was a surprise. When did it happen?”
“I know.” She clasped her hands together and looked at Don over by the beer keg. “I was going to say something yesterday and then ... I guess I chickened out.”
“Why? What’d you think I’d do, throw a fit? I’m happy for you.”
“Really?” She looked at me and I realized she’d been very anxious about this meeting.
“Really,” I said firmly, giving her a hug and kiss. “Seems like a nice guy.”
“He is.” Her smile bloomed bigger than ever. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel, after all these years of it being just you and me.”
“Twenty-eight here, not twelve.” I squeezed her again then let her go. “Sorry to change the subject, but I wondered what you found out about the symbol I showed you. It came up in another case I’m working on and I think the coincidence is strange.”
She shook her head, frowning. “It’s very bad stuff, a sign of complete evil. You don’t wanna know.”
“Actually I do. That’s why I’m asking.”
She pushed a hand through her short, curly hair and grimaced. “It’s the symbol of an ancient organization, a sort of secret club for otherworldly beings. Like the Masons only not so civic-minded. There isn’t an official name for this group, but they’ve been dubbed Invictus Malus, Unconquerable Evil.”
“What do they do exactly? What’s their agenda?”
“It’s all rumors and stories filtered through hundreds of years of history. I can’t tell you what’s fact or fiction, but human sacrifices may be part of it.”
I pictured the young woman in the woods and thought that was definitely a fact.
“Supposedly, they have large gatherings periodically. Conventions of sorts at which members meet to socialize and conduct business.” She shook her head. “People disappear. That’s all I know. When the Invictus Malus convenes some place, people go missing.”
“They’d need a place to meet,” I thought aloud. “Someplace big.” Like a warehouse. “How long does this ‘convention’ go on for?”
“Sorry I don’t know any more than what I’ve told you. I’ll see if I can find out anything else.”
“Thanks. That’d be great.” I gave her another hug. “And Mamá, I really am happy for you and your new boyfriend.”
She laughed. “Boyfriend. It sounds so young.”
“Which you are.”
She wrapped her arm around my waist and squeezed. “And what about you, garcon? I see you brought Amy, but she’s dancing with your cousin. Why you wanna let that girl get snatched out from under your nose?”
“Here we go again. Didn’t we just do this yesterday?”
“I didn’t get the response I wanted. Thought if I tried again...” She grinned.
I looked back at her, unsmiling. “Maybe I’d like that too--what you have with your new friend, but we both know its not gonna happen for me. Ever. You bringing up the subject of dating every time I see you makes me ... Well, it makes me not want to see you very often for one thing.”
She rested a hand on my chest and gave me her look, the one that said ‘pay attention or else.’ “All right, I’m only saying this one more time then I’m done. You can have a relationship if you find the right person, someone who can accept all of who you are. If she loves you and you love her, it won’t matter. But, chèr, you’ve got to take a chance and let someone in.”
I looked away from her to watch a group of kids playing freeze tag because I didn’t want to meet her eyes. “Even if that’s true. Even if I found a woman I …liked, there’s no way I’d subject her to this paranormal bullshit. It wouldn’t be fair to put that on her.”
“But it would be for her to decide whether she wanted to deal with it.” She sighed then made a motion of zipping her lips and throwing away the key. “All right. I’m finished. You won’t hear one more word about this pass my lips.”
I burst out laughing at the unlikelihood of that.
“I’m serious.”
“What’s up?” Don rejoined us, a cup of beer in each hand. He offered one to me and one to my mom.
“Nothing. Just harassing my boy about his love life.”
Don gave me a sympathetic look that made me like him a whole lot. “That’s what mothers do, and they never stop no matter how old you are.”
I laughed and bid them goodbye then went to find Amy. She was no longer dancing, but sat at a table with several of my aunts playing poker. Remy hovered near her chair, looking disgruntled at her lack of attention to him.
“How’s the game going?” I asked as I neared the table.
“Losing.” Amy looked up at me and rolled her eyes toward Remy. Her mouth was a grim line and I knew I was going to catch hell later for siccing him on her. She clearly wanted him gone which made me ridiculously happy.
“Hey, Remy, come on.” I beckoned him and nodded toward the shed, behind which I knew my uncles and cousins were gathered, passing around homemade hooch and maybe a joint or two. It was our own private Plazier boys club.
Remy surrendered the field to the card-playing aunts and followed me. “How come you never introduced me to this girl before? She’s a hottie, and I think she likes me.”
“Hard to tell with Amy.”
“Well, I think she does. I’m going to ask her out.”
I shrugged. “Give it a shot, but she’s not all that easy to get along with. She has a bad temper and she doesn’t think much of southern men. You’d be better off with some local girl. What happened to that beautician you were dating, Sandy something?” I couldn’t help trying to discourage Remy. All of a sudden I saw what a bad match the pair of them would be and wondered why I’d ever thought it was a good idea to introduce them.
We joined the guys behind the shed, passing around a couple of mason jars and shooting the shit about sports, women, jobs, women, politics and women. I entered the brotherhood of men and let the friendly banter and afterglow of the fiery home-brew envelope me. My cousin, Terry passed a joint and soon I quit worrying about both ancient evil cults and my pathetic love life.
It was uncomplicated and comfortable, standing, gazing at the
pulsing stars and gently waving branches of the trees. The music of crickets and frogs was as thick as the loamy-scented swamp air. Even though it wasn’t full, the moon overhead pulled at my blood and my baser aspect. Under the influence of alcohol and potent weed, I relaxed so much it would’ve been easy to surrender control and become the Other. A large part of me wanted to lope away across the countryside, wild and free.
Time passed, unmeasured and as fluid as water. I got completely wasted and sprawled on the grass on my back, staring up at the sky and singing along with the band. I vaguely remember Terry and Remy doing the same. We believed we were singing three-part harmony. Eventually, Louis hauled me up and with my arm around his shoulders, dragged me back to the party where Amy was waiting for her ride home.
“Oh, look at this.” Her arms were folded across her chest and her dark brows knitted in a frown. She looked so adorable I wanted to eat her up.
“Hi, Amy.” I lifted my hand in greeting. I was so piss-drunk I could barely stand straight. Amy and her doppelganger floated in front of my unfocused eyes. She looked exceptionally beautiful in her deep blue dress with her satiny black hair falling in curtains on either side of her face. I had to touch it. Had to. I reached out and stroked my hand down the silky length. She jerked her head to the side.
“What are you doing?”
“N-nothing.”
“Quit pawing at me.”
“You’re so ... so beautiful. I wanted to know what your hair felt like.”
“It feels like hair,” she snapped.
“Do you always have to be like that? Didn’t your mother ever teach you to accept a compliment?”
“That wasn’t a compliment. It was a come on.”
“No,” I told her solemnly. “It was the truth.”
“Look, Rick, you’re drunk and horny. I’m tired and ready to go home. Let’s call it a night.” She turned to my uncle. “Louis, please put him in the back seat.”
Normally I would have backed down, but my inhibitions and libido were unleashed. I felt the primal stirring deep inside me ... well, not so deep--it was more or less percolating just under the surface, ready to grow claws and fangs at a moment’s notice. When Amy turned to walk away from me, I lurched away from Louis and body-blocked her, invading her personal space. “Don’t go.”
“Get out of my way.” Her eyes widened as she pushed on my chest, but I refused to budge. “I mean it, Rick. You’re going to be embarrassed about this in the morning.”
I wouldn’t force her, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to make it easy for her to blow me off like she always did. I stared down into her snapping black eyes and set jaw. Despite her petite build, Amy was one intimidating chick.
“I want you,” I insisted, working hard to keep the words from slurring. “And I think you want me too. Why shouldn’t we…? Why do we always make it so hard?”
Amy pushed against my chest, knocking me out of the way.
I tottered back on unsteady feet and Onc Louis caught me.
“Put him in the car, please,” she repeated. “I’ll drive him home.”
I remember being dumped into the back seat and feeling the steady rumble of the car on the road, then I lost track of some time. When I came to, Amy was shaking my shoulder, trying to rouse me. “Hey, get up. Come on, you lug. I can’t carry you inside.”
I squinted trying to get my bearings. My cheek was pressed into the seat cushion and the car spun around me. My stomach lurched. I groaned and carefully sat up, making an effort to collect myself and not look like a complete asshole in front of Amy. I crawled out of the car, braced a hand against the doorframe and stood up straight.
The gated courtyard of my apartment building was only a few yards away. I prayed I wouldn’t humiliate myself by falling down flat on my face crossing the short distance. I wished I’d gained an ability to hold my liquor along with the superior healing powers of a lycanthrope.
Suddenly Amy’s warm body was pressed against my side and her sturdy frame shored me up as I staggered to the left. With an arm around my waist, she supported me all the way through the gate and the courtyard to the door of my apartment then unlocked it and let us both in. I tripped over the doorstep, caught my balance and swayed on my feet in the foyer.
Amy braced both hands against my chest to keep me upright.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, wrapping my arms around her. She felt so warm and soft I embraced her tighter. She froze, her body stiff against me, her fingers clutching the front of my shirt.
“Sorry for everything.” I leaned down, my mouth hovering near the side of her cheek.
She looked up at me. I didn’t meet her eyes or I might have stopped. Instead, my gaze focused on her slightly parted lips and I leaned in to kiss them. I curved a hand around the nape of her neck and angled my face to kiss her more deeply. Amy neither encouraged me nor stepped away, but stood passively accepting the kiss.
A ravening need to possess swelled in me and suddenly it was as though a dam burst. I surged toward her, pressing the full length of my body against hers, my growing erection hard against her. I kissed her mouth, her jaw, her throat and the ridge of her shoulder. Her skin tasted delicious and I wanted to bite her tender flesh, to mark her as mine.
“Oh!” Amy let out a soft little cry as I kissed her neck and that needy, feminine sound was like a match to tinder. My consciousness flickered in and out, caught between id and ego. Fangs threatened to descend in my mouth and my hair rose on my scalp as I skirted the edge of turning wild. I no longer felt drunk but fully conscious and alert and oh so hungry. But it was not just Rick Plazier feeling those things. My other self, the one I fought so hard to keep hidden, wanted out of its human cage.
Amy’s pulse beat against my mouth, her flesh warm and her breathing heavy with arousal. She gave a small moan and I took it as an invitation. My mouth closed over the junction of her neck and shoulder, sucking hard then biting with still blunt, human teeth.
“Oh!” This time her cry was a protest. She jerked away from my mouth and pushed against my chest, hard.
I stumbled back against the doorframe, struggling to clamp down on my wild side. Amy covered the bite on her shoulder with one hand and stared at me with shocked eyes.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Jesus!” I was horrified. I’d made love to numerous women since I’d been turned and had never lost control no matter how great my lust. I could blame it on the moonshine, but deep inside I knew better. It was Amy. It was the way I felt about her that made me want to mark her as mine.
“It’s okay,” she whispered.
“No. No, it isn’t. I’m so sorry.”
She looked back at me with inscrutable dark eyes, her hand still cupping her wounded shoulder. I was completely sober as if someone had thrown ice water over me.
“Please, don’t quit.”
“I’m not quitting.” Her familiar annoyed tone set me at ease. “Don’t beat yourself up about it, Rick. Pass out. Get some sleep.”
She pushed past me, walking out the door. She hurried across the flagstone courtyard and the gate creaked open then closed behind her.
I slumped in my doorway and slid down to the ground. My worst fear had come true. I had hurt someone I cared about, behaved like the wild beast I was. Amy might say she forgave me, but I knew she’d never forget what I was capable of.
* * * *
When I woke the next morning, I was sleeping on my living room floor. My head felt like a Mardi Gras parade was marching through it. The sun shone through the wide-open front door stabbed my eyes like shards of glass. For one blissful moment I couldn’t remember anything about the previous evening, but then memories came crashing down on me.
I closed my eyes and groaned. Facing Amy at the office today was going to be painful.
I sat up and clutched my throbbing head. Perhaps I could put off going to the office for a while. I should see Angela Addington and tell her she or her husband might be in danger. I’d have to invent an edited story about
Invictus Malus, one that didn’t include the paranormal element. As it was, telling her about a secret sect would make me sound like a conspiracy theory nut case.
Dragging myself up on wobbly legs, I stumbled to the shower. An hour, a couple of strong cups of coffee and a phone call later, I was on my way to meet Angela at a bistro on Rawlins Street. I didn’t call the office to tell Amy I’d be late, couldn’t face talking to her yet.
When I arrived at the Corner Café, Angela was sitting at an outdoor table under an umbrella, sipping coffee or tea. I slid into the seat across from her with a third cup of black coffee and a croissant.
The woman was as beautiful as I’d remembered. I’d begun to think maybe I’d imagined her almost ethereal loveliness. She leaned toward me, sky-blue eyes wide and worried. “What did you find out?”
“Your husband appeared to be doing exactly what he said he was, showing property, a warehouse near the wharf, to a potential customer.”
“Really?” She sat back in her chair and a smile illuminated her face. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.”
I pulled out the photos I’d printed out and fanned them on the table in front of her. “This is the man Brian met. Do you recognize him?”
She studied one picture after another with a frown of concentration. “No. He isn’t familiar, but then I know very few of my husband’s clients. Don’t you think it’s strange he met this man so late at night? Do you think Brian might be dealing with the mob?”
“See this?” I indicated the tat on the man’s hand, blown up to show the symbol better. “This marking is connected to a sort of cult. The same image was branded on a local girl’s dead body which was found recently in the woods. I’m concerned that Brian or you—or maybe both of you—could be in worse danger than from some local criminal organization.”
There was a long silence as Angela stared at the picture. “C-cult? You mean like Satanists or something to do with voodoo?”
“A little like that. I haven’t shown the photos to the police yet.” I struggled to think of a reason to give her. The New Orleans cops weren’t equipped to handle a host of supernaturally powerful beings. Setting them up to investigate the Invictus Malus would be like asking kindergartners to fight professional assassins, but I could hardly tell Angela that. “I wanted to talk to you first and find out everything I could about the cult before I talked to the police. They might have a hard time believing me.”
