“Saint-Germain.” Arachne clenched her jaw. “Not to interrupt, but we’re here for a reason.”
“Yes, yes!” Saint-Germain threw up his hands. “Of course, I know!”
“We’re looking for a solution to my . . . contract,” Arachne explained, giving Leo the side-eye. “Some of the vampires around town aren’t keeping the peace, and we wonder if there’s a way to govern them.”
“Delightful.” Saint-Germain clapped his hands together. “I know the type—hanging around the cities of death, stirring up trouble. I do recall a sort of ancient talisman which may assist you in this endeavor.”
Saint-Germain skimmed the dusty shelves until he found a black leather-bound book. He coaxed it from the shelf and gingerly laid it on the table. While flipping through the rough, yellowed pages, he muttered under his breath. Finally, he landed on a page with an intricate sketch.
“Ah, here we are.” He pointed a long finger to the image.
Arachne and Leo leaned over and gazed at the page. A stunning woman with dark hair and ornate robes wore a radiant crown atop her head. She wielded a sceptre adorned with a moon in one hand, and a sword with a sunstone on the pommel in the other.
“Lilith was the High Demoness, referred to as the Queen of Night, who ruled over all demons and underworldly creatures. Depicted here are her royal regalia—the crown, the sceptre, and the sword. The crown represents victory, honor, immortality, righteousness, and resurrection. The sceptre symbolizes her imperial authority and sovereignty. Finally, the Queen of Night does not have a globus cruciger like the royals of Earth, but instead has a sunstone orb embedded in a sword with the power to command hellfire.”
“Lilith is gone, along with everyone else.” Arachne frowned. “What’s your point?”
“Allegedly, her regalia is imbued with tremendous power to sway creatures of the night to her allegiance, to her will. And it is said these relics remain on Earth, waiting for another dark commander.”
“Wait.” Leo looked up from the page. “You intend to control the vampires?”
“That’s what you want, right?” Arachne shrugged.
“I said you should form a government, not just control everyone!”
“What’s the difference? You’ve got safe streets, and I’ve got my problem under control.”
“The problem is that vampires are people and have wants and feelings.”
“Murderous wants and feelings,” Arachne snapped. “Despite your optimism for them, more are like Nathan than not. I can’t do anything else about it. If you want a government, a crown seems like the right place to start.”
“Ooh, I do like the idea of a royal court.” Saint-Germain danced his fingers together.
“What about a democracy?” Leo prompted.
“However, a Senate of vampires also sounds rather compelling . . .” Saint-Germain nodded enthusiastically.
“Lilith didn’t have a dark democracy, she had a dark monarchy.” Arachne put her hands on her hips indignantly. “I don’t want to reinvent the wheel.”
“If I may interject . . .” Saint-Germain pointed to the book once more. “There are a few hitches.”
Arachne and Leo looked at the book again to see an ornate inscription written in an ancient language.
“First of all, to my understanding, these relics have long since been hidden away. We would need to locate all three. Second, as far as I can tell, there is some sort of incantation or prophecy written here.”
“There’s always a fucking prophecy,” Arachne said, rolling her eyes.
“I, unfortunately, cannot decipher it. Everything I know about this is passed down by rumor and what I can glean from these images.”
“Well . . .” Leo slapped his hand on the table smugly. “If we can’t find the relics and we don’t know the prophecy, there’s no use going down this road.”
“Leo,” Arachne pleaded. “We’re so close! I thought you wanted a solution. I thought you wanted justice.”
“Yes, I want a solution. A real solution.”
“I don’t want humans dying in the streets, either. Saint-Germain?” She turned back to him hopefully.
Saint-Germain put a thumb and finger under his chin, fixated on the ceiling, and nodded his head slowly.
“I see a compromise here,” he mused. “We seek the relics, and in the meantime, begin a process to develop our own government for the creatures of the night in New Orleans. It seems to me these powerful relics shouldn’t fall into the wrong hands anyway, or they could usurp your rule. However, we may never find them.”
Arachne smirked. “Fair enough.”
Leo faltered for a counterargument. This was not what he signed up for. And he wasn’t convinced Arachne wouldn’t find all the relics.
“In the meantime, I will continue to research the matter and attempt to decipher this text. It will most likely give us clues. I am fluent in many languages,” he boasted. “However, ancient Sumarian, or rather, proto-Sumarian, is not my forte.”
Arachne and Leo thanked Saint-Germain for the tea and headed toward the door. Saint-Germain gave one last bow and said, “It was an honor to meet you, Leo. And lovely as always, dearest Arachne.”
The entire way back to the apartment, Leo and Arachne bickered over whether or not to use the relics. They arrived at the courtyard and stalled near the front gate.
“You don’t understand just how many creatures of the night there are,” Arachne sighed. “It’s overwhelming. Using Lilith’s power would actually make it manageable.”
“I get it, but sometimes the right way to do things isn’t the easiest way.”
Arachne glanced over at her apartment and jumped a little.
“I have company,” she insisted. “We’ll finish this argument later.” And with that she sprinted off to her front door.
“Sure! Sounds nice!” Leo called out after her. “So looking forward to it.”
He noticed a bat hanging upside down from her balcony railing and recognized it as the same bat from his moving day. It crawled up to a hunched-over position and fluttered inside as Arachne opened the French doors from her upstairs bedroom.
Leo wondered why a bat got Arachne excited. He had entered a strange new world, where bats and ravens were houseguests and extravagantly dressed vampires researched ancient prophecies about tiaras which could control hordes of dark creatures.
Chapter 6
“I’m so sorry, Leo.” Monette gave him the longest hug he’d ever received and apologized for not swinging by sooner.
“Fuck those guys, anyway.” She pursed her lips. “They didn’t deserve you playing with them. And who does Nathan think he is, blacklisting you all over town? The next time I see him, he’s dead.”
“Please don’t confront him.”
“No promises.” Monette gestured a cut throat with her finger. Leo laughed nervously.
“Anyway, did you hear the news?”
“About . . . ?”
“The Ursuline Convent Museum.” Monette’s eyes widened. “Someone vandalized it last night! The stained-glass windows shattered and everything. It’s really awful.”
Leo shook his head.
“I have a lot of feelings about it.” Monette gave him a look.
“Yeah, but I have to go to work.” Leo gestured to the bar. “Maybe later.”
“Okay.” She flashed a smile. “I’ll leave you be. If you need to reach me, I’ll be studying late at the university library.”
“Have fun.”
Monette gave him a thumbs up as she walked away into the haze. As the evening approached, a fog was setting in. Leo turned and entered the Bootleg Bourbon. It was quiet—only a few patrons at the bar. His coworker, Olivier, waved cheerfully at him. Leo endured the constant pouring of drinks and closing up the bar on late nights, but Oli was the one perk.
“Who was that?” Oli asked.
“My sister.”
“Ah, I see.” He laughed. “I was thinking about trying to hook you up with one of m
y friends. But I recall you with that gorgeous blonde a few weeks back when I was working the door.” Oli swooned. “Of course you’re into the bad girls.”
Leo blushed and poured a beer for the man at the end of the bar, who had already drunk one too many lonely beers.
“I hit a chord.” He winked.
Leo shrugged innocently and threw a rag over his shoulder.
“Hey, looks dead in here,” Leo said. “Go ahead and cut out. I’m closing tonight anyway.”
“You’re just trying to get rid of me so I don’t bother you anymore.”
“Nailed it!” Leo grinned. “Now get out of here!”
“I know I’m just as loud and annoying as the instrument I play.”
“You play?” Leo quirked an eyebrow.
“The trumpet!” Oli exclaimed, and Leo laughed. Oli could be like a trumpet, blaring his opinion for all to hear.
“We’ll have to jam sometime,” Leo suggested.
Oli agreed. Then he cleaned up the last of the glasses behind the bar, wished Leo a good night, and clocked out. The rest of Leo’s evening was uneventful. After closing, he cleaned and locked up the bar as usual.
The fog had progressively thickened since midday to the point where Leo couldn’t see but a few feet in front of him. He knew the way home by heart, and watched his feet as he set off. As he walked, an ominous feeling surrounded him, and he felt a chill creep in.
Then, a hand grabbed his shoulder.
“Leo, we have a problem.”
“Jesus fucking Christ!”
Leo held his hand to his heart as it pounded in his chest. Arachne quickly retracted her hand from his shoulder and took a step back. “Sorry. I forgot you can’t sense me.”
“Yeah,” Leo gasped. “You came out of nowhere! I thought you were Nathan, back to finish me off.”
“Don’t be so dramatic.” Arachne rolled her eyes. “This situation is far worse than that.”
Leo’s shoulders slumped. “Of course.”
“We’re being followed,” she whispered, briskly taking his hand and leading him down the street. His heart fluttered as he thought about her small hand in his.
“Who’s following us?”
“You mean what is following us. In fact, surrounding us,” she muttered. “They’re known as soul-stealers or night walkers. They hide in the mist and do just that—steal people’s souls in the night. The thing is, there are a lot of them out tonight. They’re attracted to bloodshed, like war zones.”
“Why are they here, then?” Leo’s long gait was struggling to keep up with Arachne’s short yet supernaturally fast pace. Her high-heeled boots clacked on the sidewalk like staccato notes.
“They must anticipate bloodshed tonight.” She bit her lip. “I don’t know why, but—” They halted in the courtyard. She turned and looked up at him urgently, resolute. “I’m going to stop whatever is happening and protect the city.”
Leo gaped at her for a few seconds, then smiled warmly. “I’m proud of you.”
She briefly flashed a smile back, then sharply said, “And you are staying here.”
“But—”
“Leo,” she snapped. “This is my business, and mine alone. Stay here and stay safe. Do not go outside alone. Don’t answer the door until the second set of knocks. And for hell’s sake, don’t invite any vampires in.”
Arachne pointed to her apartment and then took a step away. Suddenly, a wispy creature materialized out of the fog in front of them, its clawed hand curling toward Leo’s chest.
“Get back!” Arachne commanded. “Don’t let it get ahold of you!”
Leo tripped backward and fell to the ground. The creature loomed over him with a ghoulish face, translucent, with dark sockets for eyes. Its breath was cold and smelled of rotting flesh. Leo’s heart raced as he tried to scoot further away. He had no weapons, nowhere to escape. The creature crouched down, white wisps floating from its scrawny figure as it reached clawed hands toward Leo’s face.
Arachne leaped forward and punched her fist through the creature’s chest. It dissipated back into the fog with a shriek.
“You all right?” She grabbed his arm and hoisted him up.
“Yeah,” he gasped. “That was a . . .”
“Vrykolakas. A soul-stealer.”
“You killed it!” Leo gritted his teeth.
“Oh, Leo. Don’t worry about the hell creatures! They don’t die anyway.” Arachne frowned. “They reformulate elsewhere after they recover.”
“They respawn, like in a video game?”
“Sure.” She shrugged, then she pointed back to her apartment. “Get inside. Now.”
He nodded, his heart still racing. She spun on her heel and marched away.
Leo paused, staring at the apartment for only a moment before he remembered.
Shit, Monette! She was studying late at the university library. He pulled out his phone and texted her several messages. He waited a minute. No response. Desperately, he called her, his stomach flipped and knotted. The call went straight to voicemail.
Cursing, Leo felt for his keys in his jeans and ran to the street side parking. If there was any chance she was still at the library, she was in danger. And the university was all the way on the north end of town. He leaped into his emerald green ‘99 Honda Civic and turned the key. Its old engine roared to life. He grabbed the clutch and stepped on the gas. On highway 10 he shifted into fifth gear, speeding 112 miles per hour until he turned off onto Elysian Fields Avenue, downshifting to fourth gear. He nervously scanned his rear-view mirror for cops, but after not seeing a single car or person on the streets for several miles, he sped through stoplights without thinking. Only a thick, eerie fog permeated the streets.
The library was near the center of the university. He stranded his car on the side of the street and ran toward the library. Low golden lights illuminated the windows. Leo pushed open the front doors. A student worker was dozing at the front desk with headphones on. He ran past and searched for Monette’s favorite study spot—a wide window facing out onto campus and the London Avenue canal beyond.
She was there, her head rested on her books, drooling.
“Monette!” Leo exclaimed. He felt like he was soaring. “You’re okay!”
“Wha . . . ?” she mumbled. Her eyes blinked blurry sleep away. “Leo?”
“Let’s get you home.” Leo wrapped his hands on her shoulders and helped her stand.
“What’s going on?” She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.
Leo bit his tongue while he grabbed her books and shoved them in her bag.
“Leo?”
“Remember the vandalism?” Leo’s mind reeled for an excuse. “Well, the police said the vandals are armed and dangerous. I realized you might still be here. I just want to make sure you get home safe.”
Monette’s eyes widened. She readjusted her glasses and nodded. They scrambled down the main stairway to the lobby, but halted. Two women stood and one knelt in the middle of the lobby. The one on the left had wispy blonde hair and baby-blue eyes, the one on the right auburn hair and hazel eyes. They wore elaborate dresses with lace and feathered hats. The woman kneeling had brunette hair with frosty eyes, and held the student worker in her arms, her fangs in his neck. Blood dripped down onto his shirt.
Monette screamed. The women’s eyes narrowed and turned blazing red. The brunette glared up at Leo and Monette from her victim.
“Run!” Leo shouted. He shoved Monette toward the emergency door on the left. She stumbled for a step and then sprinted toward the door.
“Where do you think you’re going, pet?” the one with auburn hair said, grinning maliciously.
Leo took a step forward, holding his arms out to block her path. He had to buy Monette time to escape. The side door closed behind Monette and Leo held his breath.
“This must be the boy we’re looking for.” The brunette cocked her head to the side, blood dripping down her chin. “Leonidas Gaumond.” She dropped the student to
the floor and stood, straightening her bonnet. “We followed you from the Quarter. You were not easy to chase. Your carriage travels tremendously fast. But now you are slow . . . vulnerable.”
Leo’s heart raced and his stomach felt like it was melting in his abdomen. He cleared his throat.
“You know who I am.” He forced a smile. “May I have the pleasure of knowing your names?”
The blond giggled. “How polite!”
“What a gentleman,” the auburn agreed.
“I suppose it would only be courteous if we introduced ourselves before your gruesome demise,” the brunette said with a smirk.
“I am Odette.” The blonde beamed.
“Magdaleine.” The auburn curtsied.
“And I am Josephine.” The brunette took a step forward. “It was ever so lovely to meet you, Leonidas. Now die.”
Leo bolted toward the emergency door. It was no use. Their hands grabbed him and yanked him back, restraining him with marble arms. He struggled, but their grasp was ironclad.
“What a treat!” Odette licked his face.
Magdaleine sank her teeth into his wrist, pinpricks of pain. He winced, a gasp escaping his lips. Odette did the same on his other wrist.
“Now, now, pet,” Josephine cupped his face in her petite hands. “We would just kill you and give you a swift, merciless death, but candidly, we’re parched. We wouldn’t want to spoil a fresh meal, now would we?”
At least Monette is safe. Leo closed his eyes. Josephine sank her teeth into his neck, and he yelled in agony. This is it, Leo reflected. He was going to die as a blood bag. At first he thought for Nathan, but now instead for these women.
“For fuck’s sake!”
The women spun around, dropping Leo to the floor. He landed on his hands and knees. Sweat dripped down his face, and his own blood splattered on the floor around him. He tentatively sat back and held his hand firmly to his neck to try and stymie the bleeding. He winced, his throat throbbing desperately under his hand.
“My friend is not a snack,” Arachne sneered. In a heartbeat, she was standing over Magdaleine with her high-heeled boot to the vampire’s neck.
“Stop!” Josephine roared. “I’ll do anything. Just don’t hurt my sister.”
Blood Moon (A Louisiana Demontale): Book 1 of the Crescent Crown Saga Page 5
