Night of the Living Demon Slayer

by Angie Fox

  "I know the feeling," Dimitri mused.

  Feelings aside, we didn't have time to wait. "I don't know how much longer Carpenter has."

  She gave a tight nod. "Come," she said. "Let's at least get there before the witching hour." She headed for the door before she looked down at her state of undress and caught herself. "I'd better change first."

  "Maybe leave a message for your husband," Dimitri suggested.

  She opened the door into the main shop. "We have an apartment above the shop. Wait here." She started up set of stairs heading up to the living quarters.

  "He has every right to punch me in the face," Dimitri mused.

  "Let's hope we don't run into him then," I said. But seriously, I understood that these guys wanted to protect us. They also needed to know when to let go. Aimee was a big girl. She understood the risks. "I didn't even know she was married," I added. "Does your husband know voodoo?" I called after her. Maybe he could help.

  "He doesn't practice," she said, her voice trailing from the open apartment door upstairs. "But he has every reason to believe."

  She returned wearing a loose-fitting neon green skirt, a hot-pink stretchy top, and white tennis shoes. She'd tied her hair back into an orange striped bandana and held a flashlight. "All set."

  Dimitri frowned, as if he realized that protecting her would be a bigger job than he'd thought. I could understand his concern. If she were one of the biker witches, I would have told her to skip the flashlight. She'd glow in the dark all by herself. But I didn't say that because I was polite, and there was something I liked about the voodoo mambo.

  She was comfortable in her own skin. I admired her confidence.

  Or maybe it was simply that I needed her.

  "Let's bring this just in case," she said, plucking two stones, a candle, and a red cloth bundle from her altar.

  "Sounds great." I'd stick with my switch stars.

  We headed out the back, and Aimee locked her door. Dimitri's frown deepened as she motioned us into a dark corridor on the other side of the alley. I hadn't noticed it before.

  My husband drew me close. "Short cut?" he asked.

  "The best way," she said, moving first through the narrow space. We followed close behind.

  Laughter and conversation from the party crowd filtered from the surrounding streets, making the corridor feel even more secluded.

  Dimitri slipped his hand into mine. "You've done this before," he said to the voodoo mambo, as the path emptied into another alley.

  She tossed a glance over her shoulder. "It's a long story. You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

  We followed the back streets and alleys until we came to Basin Street.

  Sweat trickled down the back of my neck as the white stone walls of a graveyard rose up in front of us.

  St. Louis Cemetery Number One used to be located at the outskirts of the city, which now meant the edge of the French Quarter. The cemetery closed its gates at dusk, for safety's sake. Most people assumed that meant the prevention of criminal activity. But knowing what I did of the other side, I'd be willing to bet other things went down in the dark cemetery at night.

  "I hear it's a maze in there," I said quietly.

  "I know the way," she said, leading us past the front entrance. A simple wrought-iron cross topped the tall gate. I paused to look in on the above-ground tombs, pearly white in the light of the moon. "Stay close to me, no matter what you see in there. There are more than one hundred thousand departed souls resting inside those walls. Most are dead and gone. But there are some who practiced voodoo and their power calls to me. I'm never truly alone in there."

  "Great." Dimitri said, eyeing the wall.

  "This way," she said, hurrying to an area at the north edge where the streetlights were widely spaced and the side street deserted. Tall trees rose up on our side of the fence, their heavy canopies dripping over to the other side. She hitched a toe in the thick white stone wall like she'd done it dozens of time before.

  Oh, who was I kidding? She probably had.

  She found every nook and cranny until she crouched at the top of the wall. Then she paused, her features clouding with worry. "I didn't think of how you—"

  "No problem," I said, drawing on my power, willing it to lift me off the ground. There was something to be said for levitation, I decided, as I joined her on the top of the wall.

  We both crouched low. "Nice trick," she said, without a trace of irony.

  "Demon slayer," I said. No sense hiding it.

  Dimitri found hand and toe-holds I hadn't even noticed and soon joined us at the top. Together, we looked out over tangled rows upon rows of graves. No wonder they called it a city of the dead.

  "Follow me." Aimee scooted her legs over the wall and leapt to the ground.

  Dimitri motioned for me to go first, and so I did, although I couldn't resist slowing my descent just a bit as I neared the ground on the other side. In any case, jumping sometimes made my knees hurt.

  In one graceful leap, Dimitri was at my side. "You've gotten better at that."

  "You should have seen me stick that landing in the swamp." It had been pure magic, or at least as close as I could get to it.

  Aimee grinned. "I can see why Carpenter picked you two."

  I couldn't help but return her smile. "I don't think he had much of a choice." At least as far as I was concerned.

  "Come on," she said, getting her focus back. "Just because I've come here a lot doesn't mean it's safe to linger."

  We left the shadow of the trees and kept our lights off for the time being. There was enough of a moon tonight and we didn't want to draw attention. Aimee moved almost silently and so did Dimitri and I as we wound through the crumbling monuments to the dead.

  The place smelled like mold and concrete and the heat of the city. Wrought-iron gates with thick spikes hugged some of the white stone vaults, while others lay neglected, their plaster falling away to expose redbrick skeletons. Still others had sunk into the ground, their inscriptions worn and barely visible as earth swallowed them whole.

  Entire extended families shared mausoleums separated by narrow pathways.

  We passed a tomb coated in crumbling white marble, with a weeping angel over the doorway. It radiated power and darkness.

  Aimee touched my arm to keep me moving. "We don't notice a thing," she said, as if failing to acknowledge it could somehow diminish its power.

  That approach seemed to be working so far with the spirit in my head. I winced at myself for thinking of him and purposely cleared my thoughts.

  Dimitri strode next to me, shoulders drawn back, focused on every detail of the cemetery.

  "Lord, I missed you," I told him.

  A slight grin tickled his lips. "So you showed me earlier."

  "Up ahead," Aimee murmured over her shoulder. We took a hard left, and I knew immediately which grave was that of the Three Sisters. It stood at the end of a short, dead-end row. The tomb radiated malice and death, as if it could infect the living with merely a brush or a touch. Maybe it could.

  There was nothing remarkable about the stone itself – plain white, topped with a simple slanted roof. It was better kept than most of the others, with white paint and a well-maintained exterior. Vases set into the path on either side held fresh blood-red roses twined with strands of pearls and feathers. More flowers scattered the ground in front of the entrance, along with offerings of rum and cigarettes.

  The name on the etched gray stone read Pade.

  I gave an involuntary shudder.

  "Pade's mother was a powerful dark bokor," Aimee said quietly, as if her words themselves could summon her. "His grandmother and his great-grandmother held great influence as well, but none so much as Mamma Pade. There are five generations in that crypt."

  I glanced to Aimee, who stood with her arms over her chest, as if she couldn't get warm. "How many ancestors are we talking about in there?"

  "I don't know. Sometimes servants and followers are buried wi
th the family…if they've shown enough loyalty."

  Dimitri stiffened next to me. "I wonder what that entails."

  I'd seen it firsthand.

  "Every family member adds power." Aimee paused. "Feel that spiky energy coming off it?"

  I raised a hand over the stone. The jabbing power tore at my palm like a thousand tiny, piercing arrows.

  "It's probably cursed," she said, pragmatically. "And before you ask, I can't lift a generational curse in an evening."

  I hadn't asked. Damn. "Carpenter said this was important." It had better be. We could be sacrificing a lot.

  Aimee looked like she might cry. "He may get in over his head sometimes, but he knows how to get out."

  He was asking a heck of a lot in the process.

  "What exactly is there between you and Carpenter?" Dimitri asked. It was an uncomfortable question, and I prepared myself for an answer I didn't want to hear. Then again, we needed to know what skin she had in the game.

  If his question surprised her, she didn't show it. The voodoo mambo lifted her chin. "He's my half-brother."

  I sighed. "He hadn't told me."

  She looked grimmer than I'd ever seen her. "He's a very private person."

  That was an understatement.

  She watched me carefully. "You said you could stop Osse Pade."

  "I'm trying," I assured her. I reached out and forced myself to touch the front of the tomb. It was freezing cold, even on this sultry night. The energy cut at my hand. The surface felt as if it were pulsing.

  I ran my hands over the stone blocking the entrance, looking for a way inside.

  Dimitri took my hand and gently lifted away. "You're not going in. I am."

  I appreciated the sentiment, but in this case, he wasn't the right one for the job. "We don't know if you're equipped to deal with this kind of evil." His griffin power drew its strength from goodness and light. Osse Pade dealt in blood and death. "I've tasted Osse Pade's power before, in the swamp. I survived."

  His grip on my hand tightened. "Maybe you just got lucky."

  "Nobody's going in," Aimee said. "A curse like this can kill you. We can get what we need from here."

  "I hope you're right." Whatever it was inside the tomb called to me. It wanted me. I ran my hands over the stone once more. I felt the energy surge, the pull of power.

  A cloud moved over the moon and the cemetery plunged into even deeper darkness.

  I inspected edge of the entrance. Sweat tickled the base of my neck. I found a finger-hold near the top, and deeper inside, a lever.

  "Be careful," Aimee hissed.

  The time for that was long past.

  "Here." I handed Dimitri my Mag-Lite. I pressed the lever and braced myself as the stone fell away from the entrance to the tomb.

  Dimitri shone the light inside. The beam illuminated age-blackened walls. Cobwebs and unidentifiable filth clung to the corners and to the sloped ceiling. It smelled of dirt, rot, and death.

  He slanted the light toward the floor and I stiffened. "Look," I said, barely above a whisper.

  "Sweet Mother," Dimitri hissed.

  The tomb stood empty. The bones were gone.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Aimee edged in close to me, wide eyed. "What happened to the bones?"

  My blood ran icy cold. "Why would anyone take dead bodies?"

  Aimee stood stock-still. "Spells. Potions."

  Dimitri frowned. "Curses."

  I had a feeling it was more than that. The spirit in the house had teased me with it:

  All blood is not the same.

  All bones are not the same.

  I felt him stir in the back of my mind. No doubt he wanted me to return for the next piece of the puzzle. I didn't think that was such a hot idea.

  Aimee touched my cheek softly, turning my face towards hers. "What was that?"

  "I don't know what you mean," I said, pulling away from her touch.

  She wasn't swayed. "I think you do."

  "It's not important," I told her.

  Oh, Elizabeth. His voice sounded in my head. How deeply you wound me.

  "Let's talk on what's going on with these bones," I said. We couldn't do anything about the spirit right now. Carpenter was another matter. I forced myself to stay focused. "Osse Pade has a little trophy display back at the funeral parlor. Shelves full of bones, with pictures and mementos." It had been creepy enough as a voodoo display. "I didn't realize it was anyone he knew."

  "It might not be," Aimee said, her fingers twining around the gris-gris bag hanging from a cord around her neck.

  "She's right," Dimitri said. "You're jumping to conclusions. Let's think logically…"

  He hadn't seen the voodoo bokor like I had. "Osse Pade jumped off the logic train a long time ago." But I could see the point. At one time, I wanted everything to fit into neat little boxes. Now I knew you sometimes had to go on gut instinct, and right now, this was the only theory that made sense. "Osse Pade is all wrapped up in his ancestors."

  "That is part of voodoo," Aimee conceded. "Our loved ones are always with us on the spirit plane."

  "I get that, but this is different. He practically worships them." Then it hit me. "Carpenter suspected. That's why he had us come out here. The missing bones must have something to do with what they have planned for your brother." If so, there was only one way to protect him. "We need to get those bones." It would slow them down, at least for now.

  "Again," Dimitri said, with a quick glance to the empty grave.

  "Oh my goddess," Aimee whispered, her hands fluttering around her neck like birds. "What do you expect me to do? I can't break into a funeral parlor."

  I liked where she was going with that, but, "We won't do any breaking and entering," I assured her. Not with the congregation I saw there tonight. "We'll sneak in."

  She went a little pale at the suggestion. "We?"

  "Me and Dimitri," I corrected. We'd rocked her world enough for one night. And we might need her later. "Plus, I have only one extra sneak spell."

  She groaned at that, but she didn't argue.

  Dimitri's gaze heated. "Glad we tested out the sneak spell earlier."

  I nudged him. "That's one of the things I love about you. You're very thorough."

  He grinned and planted a kiss on my forehead. "Let's finish up here."

  "I'll do it," I said, moving past him. I closed the tomb with a grunt while Aimee stared at me.

  "You're serious about this," she said.

  "As a heart attack." I wiped my hands on my pants, trying to ignore the way they tingled. And trying to forget the way that one sneak spell hadn't exactly worked out for me. We'd have to keep it close and hope for the best.

  She looked a little shaky. "I can't believe I'm doing this." I didn't know if she meant the tomb breaking and entering or the funeral parlor trip we were about to take.

  Either way, "I feel we're getting a lot done tonight," I told her.

  She stared at me as if I'd just asked her on a satanic picnic. "My brother is still in a hexed circle; Osse Pade's ancestors are missing; you made me peek into the cursed tomb of a voodoo queen" her voice kept going up and up, "I'm hoping to heaven my husband didn't come home yet, while you two are about to break into a voodoo funeral parlor."

  "Like I said. Productive night."

  Dimitri gave me a kiss on the forehead and we set out, ignoring the way Aimee got a little huffy on the way out of the cemetery. She may not be used to the way we operated, but I knew she was in it for the long run. That was good, because I had a feeling we'd need her.

  ***

  We didn't speak again until we were over the cemetery wall, and deep into the back alleys leading to Royal Street. Crowds of revelers shouted in the distance and jazz filtered from the clubs.

  Aimee led the way, darting around parked motorcycles and trashcans, easing us from one back way to the next.

  I tried to keep my mind off the spirit. It only served to draw him.

  When you're
not thinking of me, you're thinking of me.

  Damn it.

  Don't worry. I like it.

  "Lizzie?" Dimitri wrapped an arm around me. "Tell me what's going on."

  "It's talking to me again," I said. "The spirit from the house. As soon as my mind even goes there...."

  "Then don't," he said quickly. I could tell it scared the heck out of him. "Think of something else."

  Easier said than done.

  The voodoo mambo glanced over her shoulder at me and made a sign of the cross.

  "Don't you start, too," I warned. "You two aren't doing anything to take my mind off this." In fact, at this rate they were going to turn me into a magical hypochondriac.

  She sighed and reached into her pocket, drawing out the tied red bundle she'd taken from her altar. "I'd gathered this for my anti-shoplifting spell, but let's use it now. It will give you strength." She folded open the cloth to reveal what appeared to be coffee grounds. "Bend over," she said, reaching up to sprinkle it over my head.

  The spirit chuckled as she began to dust the dark grounds over me. But as she emptied her bundle, I could hear his voice fade.

  "What is it?" Dimitri asked.

  "Grave dirt," she said, tucking the red cloth back into her pocket. "From consecrated ground, not the place we just visited," she said, as if there was a difference.

  Who was I kidding? I'd bet there was.

  "It drives away bad or simply mischievous spirits," she said softly. Then to both of us, she added, "I saw a lot of activity down the street earlier tonight. Lots of people going in and out of that funeral parlor."

  "Same when we stopped by your place." I had a feeling my hunch was right.

  Dimitri took my hand as we traveled two more streets, then paused at the edge of an alleyway. I'd lost my bearings for a moment, which was unlike me.

  We were farther down than I thought, past Aimee's voodoo shop and right across the street from Osse Pade's funeral parlor.

  The sign out front remained dark, but lights blazed from the windows. We watched a guard open the door for a pair of church members, a man and a woman, dressed in white. The security leader had ditched the purple face paint, and he wore a simple white shirt, but I recognized the man who had tried to grab me outside Carpenter's hut.