Wyrmrider Vengeance: An Underwater Magic Urban Fantasy (The Fomorian Wyrmriders Book 2)

by Theophilus Monroe

  I nodded slowly. "I'm going to repeat my question one more time. Where is Marie Laveau?"

  Chad smiled. "Where isn't the best question to ask... when is Marie?"

  I rolled my eyes. "You're not a philosopher, dumb ass. Stop pretending to be."

  Chad smirked. "I have beads. You want beads?"

  "I'm not showing you my boobs, Chad," I said, diverting my eyes to a set of hookah pipes on a shelf behind the counter. I was afraid if my eyes met his, he might somehow be able to infect me with his idiocy. "And it isn't Mardi Gras anyway."

  "That's where you're wrong, babe!" Chad said. "It's always Mardi Gras in the French Quarter."

  I snorted. "Alright. Like it's always Christmas on the North Pole."

  "Exactly!" Chad said, chuckling to himself like Butthead from Beavis and Butthead.

  I scratched my head. "Still, not showing you my boobs."

  "Damn," Chad said. "It was worth a try."

  I rolled my eyes. "So can I head to the back room? She's in there, right?"

  Chad narrowed his eyes. "She is visiting a guest."

  I bit my lip. That was a strange way to put it. It would be one thing if he'd said she was entertaining a guest or if someone was visiting her. But to say he was visiting a guest, in her own place? This dude was ate up, so I mostly ignored the awkwardness of the statement.

  "Is this guest more important than the Fomorian Queen?" I asked.

  Chad raised his eyebrows. "Queen? Well, how in the world did you pull that off? I mean, I've always wondered what it would be like to be a queen. But I don't look good in fishnets."

  "I'm not that kind of queen, Chad," I said. "You know about Fomoria, right?"

  Chad looked at me intently. I could tell from my peripheral vision he wasn't blinking. He was staring me down as if he was trying to use his stoner powers to peer into my soul. "I know about Fomoria."

  "Then you know that I had to go to great lengths to come here," I said. "It's a matter of life or death."

  Chad bit the inside of his cheek. Then he turned and with one hand parted the beaded curtain that led to Marie's chambers. I supposed you'd call them chambers. I mean, she was the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans. Queens have chambers, not rooms, right? Even if her palace was... nontraditional.

  Chad looked back. "She's still not available."

  "Look," I said. "I'm not one to interfere with whatever she has going on in her personal life. But this can't wait. Mere minutes could mean the difference between life and death."

  "And barging in on her... and him... that could be a matter of life or death, too," Chad said.

  "I'd rather not do that," I said. "But there has to be some way to get her attention."

  Chad sighed. "She said only in case of emergency..."

  "Trust me," I said. "This qualifies."

  Chad snorted. "And you really won't show me your..."

  "No!" I said. "Not for beads, not for anything."

  "It's okay," Chad said. "You're barely covering them as it is. I can fill in the gaps with my imagination."

  "Keep dreaming," I said. "Now please, let her know I'm here. Whatever you have to do."

  Chad reached under the counter and retrieved what looked like a human skull.

  I winced. "Please tell me that isn't real."

  Chad cocked his head. "Do you want me to tell you the truth, or do you want me to tell you it isn't real? What is 'real' anyway? Can we be sure that anything..."

  "Stop," I said. "Just do what you have to do to get Marie."

  "You're sure about this?" Chad asked.

  "Yes," I said, nodding my head.

  "Don't say I didn't warn you, babe." Chad extended his index finger up into the air, then ceremoniously lowered it to the top of the skull. He started moving his hand, counter-clockwise, around the cranium.

  The second he hit it, Hanson's Mmmbop circa the late nineteen nineties started playing at ear-piercing volume. I instinctively raised my hands to my ears.

  Chad was laughing as he covered his, too.

  "What the hell, Chad?" I asked.

  "Sorry, not far enough..."

  I cocked my head. Chad put his finger back on the skull and moved it counter-clockwise again. This time, the music changed again. I couldn't tell where it was coming from, but for a split-second, I could swear it was Michael Jackson's Don't Stop Until You Get Enough. But I only heard a few words from the chorus before Chad circled his hand again. Briefly, as Chad stopped his finger, I heard the voice of Johnny Cash. Such an unmistakable voice. Chad continued moving his finger around the skull.

  "What the heck are you doing, Chad?" I asked.

  "This is where it gets tricky," Chad said. "This place used to be a bar before Marie converted it into the shop. There was always music playing here in those days. But before that..."

  I scrunched my brow, confused. "What do you mean?"

  "Quiet," Chad said. "I have to focus."

  Chad kept moving his finger. Then he yanked his hand off of the skull. "Sorry, too far back. That was the fire... when the original French Quarter burned..."

  I looked around. Nothing around us had changed. But somehow, it seemed, he was connecting to different eras of the past. Had Marie went back in time, or something? Was he trying to call her back to the present?

  A smile spread across Chad's face. "Got it," he said.

  "Got what?" I asked.

  "Here, put your hand on top of mine," Chad said. "Just over the skull. Had to be careful not to go too far back to when this fellow was actually alive..."

  I scrunched my brow. "I don't understand..."

  "You want to see Marie, right?" Chad asked.

  I nodded. "Of course..."

  "Then this is the only way. At least for now. She's on vacation..."

  "Vacation?" I asked.

  "Most of us choose an exotic place to go to for vacation. Marie prefers to return to more exotic times... like I said, put your hand over mine."

  I snorted. "Alright."

  I put my hand on top of Chad's. Then, the whole room began to change. It was like a blur. The Hookah pipes were gone. A collection of bottles with words scribbled on their labels took their place.

  Then something like a blur blew through the beaded curtain. Not the same one that I'd seen, which was made of primarily plastic beads. This one was made of wooden beads, or perhaps they were made of bone, and the sound when whatever it was that exploded through them was distinctly different. Whatever it was, yanked the skull out from beneath our hands.

  Then the figure materialized.

  A young, tall Black man with only a brown-stained piece of cloth tied around his waist. His head was shaved. He was handsome. His skin was flawless. His shoulders were broad. And his abs... was that an eight-pack? I couldn't help but stare. I was so enthralled by his beauty that I almost missed the obvious... his eyes were red...

  He wasn't a zombie...

  But he was undead.

  "Mary Mother of Jesus!" I exclaimed. "You're a vampire!"

  The man flashed me his fangs as he slammed the button on the table and pushed Chad aside.

  "You interrupted us in the thralls of passion..."

  I noticed the beads on the curtain move again, and Marie Laveau passed through. "Oh, come off it, Niccolo. This is Joni. Or, perhaps, you'd know her better as La Sirene."

  The vampire narrowed his eyes and looked at me intently. "The Wyrmrider of legend?"

  I snorted. "Yeah, that's me. Technically, I only spent a short time in the ancient world. But we kicked some ass while we were there."

  "Why are you here?" Marie Laveau asked.

  "I'm uh... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt whatever you two were doing..."

  The vampire cocked his head. "You don't know what we were doing?"

  "I mean, I assumed. But now that I see you... I mean, you weren't feeding on her, were you?"

  The vampire shook his head. "Of course not."

  I nodded. Then looked back at Marie. "I'm sorry. I've ne
ver seen one before... a vampire, I mean."

  "Understandable," Marie said. "Whatever you have to tell me, you can say in front of Niccolo. He can be trusted."

  I scratched my head. For the first time, I actually turned my head and made eye contact with Chad. He definitely had a look on his face that screamed, "I told you so."

  "Or, perhaps you'd feel more comfortable speaking in the back?" Marie asked.

  I nodded. "Yeah..."

  It wasn't that I wasn't sure if it was okay to tell both Niccolo and Chad what was happening now. If I didn't find out how to stop it, they'd find out sooner or later. Chad would, anyway. And the vampire would too, I supposed if he lived long enough.

  But I also didn't want them to panic—Chad, especially. I figured the vampire wouldn't freak out too much. I mean, how scary can zombies be to vampires? They both share Baron Samedi's aspect, so much as I knew. But they were pretty different. Namely, a zombie had no will of its own. It was controlled by a bokor or, if not, it operated on a drive to consume brains and flesh.

  But a vampire, like this Niccolo fellow, was intelligent. He could make decisions. Sure, I assumed he consumed human blood, but he was a calculated sort of monster. Still, since Marie seemed to trust him... in all the wrong ways... I figured he had some semblance of self-control.

  I was going solely on Marie's endorsement.

  "Niccolo," Marie said. "Give us a moment. We'll resume our... activities shortly."

  The vampire nodded, and I followed Marie through the beaded curtain into her chambers. The place smelled of frankincense. It was a more pleasing odor than what I expected, given what she and her vampire lover had been doing when I arrived.

  "So," I said. "I'll cut right to the chase."

  "Please do, child," Marie said.

  "We have a zombie shark infestation. One wyrm already dead on account of it."

  "Of course you do, child," Marie said as she walked around the room lighting candles.

  "Wait," I said. "You know about this already?"

  Marie nodded. "Agwe told me."

  "He was here?" I asked.

  Marie didn't respond right away. Instead, she picked up one candle then slowly carried it over to another one before lifting the unlit candle to the lit one and lighting its wick.

  "I am the Voodoo Queen," Marie said. "I have many aspects."

  "But Tahlia has Agwe's aspect, and she said she couldn't reach him," I said. "How did you?"

  Marie smiled kindly. "If you and Tahlia combined your abilities together, you could have found him."

  I raised my eyebrow. "My abilities. You mean, since I'm a siphon?"

  Marie shook her head. "No, child. The aspect of Legba."

  I sighed. "I've only managed to utilize Legba's aspect once. Since then, it's almost like it isn't there. I haven't heard so much as a peep from Legba, not to mention have I noticed any benefits."

  "But there is much potential to the aspect you possess, child. To be able to reach across the crossroads, to appeal to any of the Loa in Guinee."

  "Is there anything in my aspect that can help me stop these sharks?" I asked.

  Marie Laveau cleared her throat. "I have an idea that might help. Could you give me a moment?"

  I nodded. "Of course."

  Marie walked out of her chambers and, based on the sound of beads clicking together, made her way back into the shop. Or, what used to be a shop. I wasn't sure what it was now. I walked around her room. It was an intriguing place full of relics one might associate with Voodoo.

  She had a giant headdress, black feathers, something I presumed she must wear on occasion. For rituals, perhaps. There were several dolls fashioned after individuals I presumed she'd intended to bless by them.

  I mean, she wasn't a caplata. She was a good mambo which meant she wasn't using these dolls to torture whoever accorded with their likeness. Presumably, she was blessing these people. Her collection of oils, and candles, was quite extensive. And she had many altars, similar to the one she'd used to summon Papa Legba from the first time I'd visited her.

  It struck me how odd it was that most of the altars had bottles of rum, other alcoholic beverages, and cigars. The Loa, apparently, have a predilection for several things humans typically consider vices.

  It didn't take long—maybe three or four minutes.

  The sound of the beads in the curtain got my attention as Marie and Niccolo, the vampire, came back in.

  "I believe a formal introduction is appropriate," Marie said.

  "Some know me as Niccolo the Damned," the vampire said, extending his hand.

  I took it and shook his hand. His skin was soft but alarmingly cold. I almost yanked my hand back but forced myself to endure the awkward touch. I figured when you're being introduced to a vampire, maintaining decorum and politeness was probably advisable.

  "The Damned?" I asked. "Not a particularly flattering moniker."

  "You can just call me Nico," the vampire said. "As for 'the damned,' that wasn't a title I gave myself. It's something they started calling me in the middle ages."

  "The middle ages?" I raised my eyebrows. "How long ago were you born?"

  Nico smiled slyly. "I haven't been born yet."

  I cocked my head.

  "Child," Marie Laveau said. "This is the year of my death: 1881."

  I had ascertained we'd gone back in time, but I hadn't known we'd gone back so far. "And this place..."

  "One of the very first drug stores," Marie said. "Founded in the twenties. Still functioning at the time of my death. A place of healing."

  "And you died..."

  "Of natural causes, dear," Marie said. "But when I come to visit my lover, I must come to a time when I did not exist."

  "And this vampire was your lover?" I asked.

  Marie smiled and nodded. "Yes, child."

  I scratched my head and looked back at Nico. "But you said you weren't born yet. I mean, that's what you said, right? I'm so confused!"

  "I was born in 2004," Nico said.

  I cocked my head. "So you're younger than me..."

  "As a human, living in your time, I am indeed. But as a vampire, I've now lived for centuries... before the colonizers arrived in this country."

  "So you're an ancient vampire, from both the future and the past?"

  Nico flashed what I was sure he intended to be a kind smile. The display of his fangs, however, sort of spoiled his intentions. "There was an accident... one that sent me back into time."

  "And you became a vampire as a result of this accident as well?" I asked.

  Nico nodded. "Because I exist as a human during your time... presuming you've come from the same year as my Marie."

  Marie nodded. "She has."

  "The only way we could be together was for Marie to visit me here, now. During the brief time after she died but before she rose again from her grave."

  I sighed. "Holy crap. Marie, are you a vampire, too?"

  Marie laughed out loud. "It is not Baron Samedi's aspect that vivifies me, child. It is Legba's."

  I looked back at Nico. "But you do possess the Baron's aspect. That's what makes you a vampire, right?"

  "Indeed," Nico said, nodding.

  "But if you died, Marie, why do you get to be a vampire while others become zombies?" I asked.

  "There are others still," Marie expanded on the thought, "who simply have his aspect, mostly mambos and hougans. They remain human. The difference between these three branches of Samedi's aspect is defined by the manner of one's death. The living remain human, only in communion with the dead. Powerful mambos and hougans. But those who acquire the Baron's aspect and die, they may be vivified as zombies, enslaved by a bokor."

  "But those of us who are bitten by another vampire, and our bodies are drained of blood..."

  "You become vampires?" I asked.

  "Provided we survive," Nico said. "Otherwise, the bodies of the bitten are usually put to rest in the grave. Unless, of course, they are animated again. As zombies."


  I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, this is all a bit much."

  "Take your time," Marie said. "We have... some of the answers you seek."

  "So how does anyone survive being drained of blood?" I asked.

  "Healing magic, typically," Nico said. "A talented mambo, like Marie, might accomplish it. You could, as well, if what the legends say about you is true."

  "What do the legends say?" I asked.

  "That you can wield any magic—provided you come into contact with it," Nico said. "I've lived long enough to generally recognize what of most legends accords with reality and what comes from the embellishment of storytellers."

  I nodded. "Then the legends are true. I am what some of the Druids refer to as a siphon."

  "I suspected as much," Nico said. "You might, as could many varieties of witches, help ensure the transition of a new vampire if you were so inclined."

  "And can you help me?" I asked.

  "To stop these zombie sharks?" Nico asked before answering his own question. "Possibly. But I cannot help you by traveling to your time."

  "Right," I said. "Since you already exist in my time."

  "Our best chance will be to infiltrate the bokors," Marie said. "The ones responsible for your zombie sharks, I believe, have their roots with the bokors and caplatas active today."

  I bit my lip. "Julie Brown. The ghost you had me visit before in the Manchac Swamp. Didn't you say she was a Caplata?"

  "She is," Marie said. "But it is not she at this time who might help you the most. It is the one who taught her..."

  "Where does this Caplata live?" I asked.

  Marie turned around and sighed. "She lives not."

  I snorted. "Another ghost?"

  Marie sighed. "She's animated by a power similar to mine. She appears in the form of a screech owl... and I suspect you've encountered her, at least in a form, already."

  I cocked my head. "Not to my knowledge..."

  "She's known by the name Marinette Bras Cheche," Marie said, locking her eyes into mine.

  I took a deep breath. I did know the name. "Marinette... the Loa who possessed the merking."

  "Before she became a Loa she was... something of in-between. In her human life, she was known for inaugurating the Haitian revolution. She sacrificed a pig to harness to power of Erzulie Dantor. And in exchange for her aid in securing Haitian independence, she committed herself to serve the Loa. But Erzulie, as a Loa more frequently concerned with matters of romance, was quickly distracted, and Marinette was left to wield whatever power she'd acquired alone."