by G A Chase
Bart nodded as if the puzzle pieces fit together in a way Sere was missing. “And as for Jenna’s desires, we know she wants your body. Like Marjory, she would need the vault to complete the transfer. Assuming she does have it, the next step would be to drag you down to her dimension and stick you inside. So how does she plan on getting you to hell?”
Goose bumps erupted along Sere’s arms at the prospect of being dragged back under. “So long as Jennifer and I don’t meet in person, Jenna can’t physically pull me through the gate again. The Cormorant might think she’s hot shit in hell, but she has no power in life. If I don’t return to her dimension on my own, she has to rely on someone on this side to abduct me.”
“Marjory has the benefit of your father’s journals to create her devil but no vault in hell. Jenna has the vault, but no knowledge of how to make the physical transfer. And she needs your body. They’re definitely a match made in hell.” Bart stroked the stubble on his chin. “So once Marjory gets her demon army out of hell, they abduct you and haul you back to that dimension. As for the Cormorant, she relocates Sanguine out of her vault prison so Marjory can create her devil. Then her flock locks you and Jenna inside so birdwoman can get her body back and you become a ghost in hell. Sounds more like a list of problems than a plan. The party Doodlebug talked about must be so the two women can hammer out the details.”
Sere spread her arms and looked at her body like she’d never really inspected it before. “I don’t even know why that birdbrain would want this doppelgänger body back. As the Cormorant, she’s able to fly and command the birds and harvesters. Once she’s in a normal body, her claim to divinity kind of disappears. I’m only immortal because of my soul’s connection to the various dimensions and the professor’s stored data. It’s not like Jenna would have any superhero powers.”
Bart rested his elbows on his knees and swirled his drink. “I think you already hit on your answer: birdbrain. The woman doesn’t think like a human. Things look more logical from the perspective of the greedy and manipulative bank president. Once she has created her devil and has him and her demons on this side, she has no incentive to continue to help the Cormorant. Abducting you makes sense, as she’s still trying to figure out how to fine-tune her immortals and wants you to stop decapitating them. Sending her army back to hell with you in custody, however, just sounds like a foolish risk. Even for a birdbrain, the Cormorant must see that. She must have something else up her feathered sleeve.”
“I can’t imagine what it would be or how we’d figure it out.” Sere got off the brick-covered ground so she could pace as she thought. “The Cormorant may not think logically, but she does have Jennifer’s mental structure—even more than I do.”
Bart sipped his Jack Daniels and coke. “What are you thinking?”
“If I played out the scenario to Jennifer, maybe between the two of us, we could triangulate on what Jenna is thinking.”
His hard stare of disapproval was one she knew all too well. “Don’t go getting any foolish ideas. Your meeting with Jennifer didn’t go so well last time. The professor made it clear even talking to her again would be very dangerous. I think we might want to listen to his advice this time.”
Having met the woman and sharing a hellish adventure, they’d bonded even tighter than sisters. “I guess you’re right.” She resumed her pacing. “Any direct communication I have with her could too easily attract Jenna’s attention. And other than you, I wouldn’t trust using an intermediator. The big problem is that Jennifer is too sweet to keep the secret from those who care about her. It would be all too easy for Marjory to manipulate her son or husband into saying something they shouldn’t. If either she or the Cormorant turn their sights on Jennifer, I’ll have the devil’s own time of it trying to protect her.”
“What’s Doodlebug’s idea?”
Sere worked her thoughts back to the original line of conversation. “She wants Dooly to sneak into the party as part of the entertainment. That way, Doodlebug can go on autopilot to get a look at what’s going on from hell’s perspective.”
Bart got off the ground as if finally joining her in figuring out the plan ahead. “Would that work? I’ve never seen you mirror Jennifer’s actions.”
Sere clenched her fists at the thought. “And you never will. Occasionally, I get twinges of what Jennifer is up to, but having a soul of my own, the inclinations are more like flights of fancy than demands for action. As a true doppelgänger in spirit as well as body, Doodlebug might have an easier time mirroring Dooly’s actions, but if a fight were to break out, I doubt she’d be able to calmly watch from the sidelines. She’s been her own person for too long to play the connected shadow for any length of time.”
Bart watched her from against the wall. “Something tells me that’s not what worries you, though.”
Sere leaned back next to him and stared into her whiskey. “Right now that girl is my secret weapon. If she’s discovered, she knows more about me than I’d like. I need her, but I still don’t totally trust her. She did kill Joe, and that’s not something I can ever forgive—and Doodlebug knows it. Walking into a room filled with Marjory and Jenna’s spies sounds way too dangerous to do without some kind of fallback plan. She’s keeping something from me.”
“Do you have a choice other than letting the two versions of the gutter punk attend the party unchaperoned?”
There was only a thin layer of Jameson’s remaining to coat the bottom of her glass. “It wouldn’t take much to stop Dooly from going, but then we’d have to come up with some other way of finding out what happens at the party. We do know someone in life who will likely be attending, assuming we trust him.”
“Former chief of police Gerald Laroque? If Marjory’s intention is to kidnap you, contacting him could spring the trap. And even if he is on our side, do you really think he’s going to rat on his sister?”
Sere frowned at her glass, as much due to the lack of alcohol as her understanding of Gerald’s position. “Probably not, but if he’s also using his doppelgänger the way Marjory will be, he could help Doodlebug if things turn ugly.”
“So you’re going to let her attend the party?” Bart sounded like a father unsure of the wisdom of letting their daughter out past curfew.
“I did ask her to keep an eye on Marjory and the Cormorant. If the two are forming a pact, finding out about it would fulfill that end of her agreement as far as I’m concerned.”
Bart looked into Sere’s eyes. His penetrating stare made it impossible for her to turn away. “That would only leave her freeing Sanguine to complete the bargain. Once she does, will you really allow her to escape hell into life?”
Letting a fellow doppelgänger out of hell had always been a risky proposition, but at the time of the offer, Sere hadn’t had much to entice Doodlebug into returning as her spy. “Of course I’ll honor the agreement—when the time comes. I need Sanguine freed first, though. Without an ally in hell, there’s no way I’m letting Doodlebug off the hook. After all, the little doppelbitch did kill Joe.”
“You keep hanging on to that death like it’s somehow going to get easier the tighter you squeeze. I suspect once Doodlebug is on this side of the divide and the contract is completed, she might have to watch her ass.”
Sere didn’t like hypotheticals. “The agreement is she stays clear of Dooly Buell and out of New Orleans. There’s a big country out there for her to make a new life for herself. Without access to the professor’s saved bodily updates like I have, she won’t become immortal. She’ll be just another lost girl trying to find her way among the living. I’m okay with that. If she crosses me, however, that’s on her.”
He swirled the ice cubes in his empty glass. “Then we’re back to the big challenge of finding the vault, but I guess the best thing is to face one problem at a time. How do we get Dooly into the party so Doodlebug can see what happens?”
Sere worked better when she only had to deal with what was right in front of her. “The only way for Do
oly to be at the mansion is to be part of the night’s entertainment. Security will be tight at the event, and that means Gerald Laroque. Like it or not, sounds like my first stop will have to be to the former chief of police. I just have to figure out how to contact him without tipping off his sister.”
Bart nodded toward the loft above the club. “When you got sucked into hell after your last confrontation, he snuck me a burner phone for emergency use.”
In the loft above the Scratchy Dog, Sere changed into her leather riding pants and halter top as Bart concluded his call.
“He wants you to meet him alone, south of Delacroix. I’m not sure if that’s for his safety, a trap, or simply a desire to keep his special fishing hole a secret.” Bart finished his inspection and cleaning of her four-barreled shotgun. “I’d feel better going with you. There’s not a whole lot out there other than bugs and gators. It’d make a damn fine place to dispose of a body.”
She slipped on her gator-skin boots and checked that the army ranger knife sheathed inside was readily available. “He’s had plenty of opportunities to turn me over to his sister, or worse. At this point, I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.”
Bart handed the gun over butt first. “Just the same…”
Sere synched up the leather straps around her thigh before stashing the weapon next to her leg where it belonged. “I’ll be careful.” She grabbed the saddlebags with her two canebrake rattlesnakes inside before heading for the door. Goodbyes never made much sense. She would do what she had to and be back in Bart’s arms as quickly as possible. Drawing out the parting only made it harder for her to think once she was on the road. She headed out the door and closed it without looking back.
The snakes rattled their tails as she bounced down the stairs to the street. She still enjoyed making secretive exits when possible, but in broad daylight, Kendell and Myles would be comfortably back in their condo, resting up for the night ahead, not peeking out the window like overly protective parents. As for the real threats, now that Sere knew Marjory Laroque was behind the demons’ escapades, she was less paranoid about being spied on by every person she met.
Down on Frenchmen Street, she unlocked the side gate. Having the Triton motorcycle close made it more noticeable, but also much more available for quick escapes. I’m getting predictable and careless. But a full personal security analysis would have to wait. She secured the saddlebags and fired up the old engine.
Though she would have liked having Bart with her, being back on the road with only her snake companions gave her a sense of peace and purpose. She beelined it to the nearest freeway on-ramp and headed south toward the river-lined marshes of the Mississippi River’s alluvial plane.
Out in an open grassy field bisected by small streams, Sere sat cross-legged on a smooth boulder while Gerald cast his lure halfway across the river. The small hand-tied fly settled onto a riffle behind a rock and danced on the current. “What can I do for you?” The big man’s eyes never left the mote of hook and fluff.
She felt like a child watching her grandfather attempt to show her how to fish. “A girl named Dooly Buell is a violinist for a street band. They’ll be auditioning for your sister’s soiree. So long as the group is reasonably acceptable, I need you to make sure they land the gig.”
“My cop sense tells me you’re worried about the mirror party in hell.” He gave the line a flick before Sere noticed the miniature crest of water that ran counter to the current.
“How much do you know about the event?” Though the big man had been useful in updating Sere on his sister’s machinations in life, his acceptance of hell and the curses that went into it had always been in doubt.
“I know there’s an element of danger to the meeting. Marjory has asked that I attend, in both dimensions. This will be my first mental venture into hell. This Dooly girl isn’t going to be a problem, is she? I can’t have her casting any spell with her music that might trap me in the foreign dimension.”
Sere had heard stories about how Kendell—as part of Polly Urethane and the Strippers—had enchanted the devil with her guitar playing, so she figured the old man’s comment wasn’t completely in gest. “Everything in this dimension should be completely normal. What happens with Dooly’s doppelgänger in hell, however, worries me. We know your sister is meeting with the Cormorant. If either of those women realize there’s a spy in their midst, things could turn ugly.”
The old man jerked the pole, but the slack line and fish’s tail splash indicted that Gerald’s prey had out witted him. “I’ve told you before, I won’t outwardly betray Marjory.”
She toyed with the knife handle in her boot. With one good toss, she could impale the fish without going through all of the hunt and parry that seemed to frustrate the old man. “I’m not asking you to. I just want Doodlebug in the room for firsthand information regarding what transpires.”
He turned toward her as he reeled in the line. The grooves from his droopy eyelids continued across the sides of his face. “And if something does go wrong?”
Of Sere’s two spies, Gerald was the closest to Marjory, making him the more valuable. “Doodlebug can take care of herself. I wouldn’t ask you to betray your cover to protect her. If she gets into a fight, that’s on her, but anything you can do to maintain her cover without exposing yours would be appreciated.”
He cast the line out again up river of where he’d lost the last round. “What can I expect as a living puppet in hell?”
She’d never experienced the dimension as anything other than a thinking, feeling, fighting self-aware being. “It depends on how much control your sister has over her marionettes. My guess is quite a lot—in which case, what you do in life will be mirrored by your double in hell. Since not everyone in that version of the party will have their original in the room, the whole evening will probably be pretty disorienting. It’s going to feel like a bad acid trip where you’re not sure what’s real and what isn’t.”
He drew the line slowly toward the spot of his last defeat. “Been there, done that. I guess that explains why the guest list is limited to family. The rumor is she’s got a new heir on the line for her next experiment.”
She stretched her legs out on the rock. After spending twenty years in hell’s hurricane, she doubted she would ever get enough sun on her body. “I’ve heard that too, though I doubt that’s why she’s called for the meeting. If she could raise a devil on her own, she wouldn’t need the Cormorant’s help.”
He turned the reel so slowly the sprocket could barely be heard above the rippling of the water. “Tell me about this Cormorant. If things turn ugly, it would be nice to know something of my adversary.”
She stared at the water, seeking out whatever indication Gerald had noticed that his prey was within striking distance. Other than the movement of the mote of feather and hook, however, she couldn’t make out anything other than the river’s natural current. “I’m not sure you’d believe me. I’ve only run across her once, and the encounter wasn’t the type of thing most sane people could accept.”
He flicked the fly so artfully that only the wings appeared to have moved. “Joe conditioned me to keep an open mind. Try me.”
She wanted to stand up for a better look at the river, but she feared her movement might spook the fish. “She’s seven feet tall, more bird than human, with feathers covering most of her body. Only her arms, legs, neck, and parts of her face look human.”
“Don’t tell me she can fly.”
Sere finally noticed the series of ripples that moved counter to the river’s flow and in line with Gerald’s lure. “Of course she can. She is mostly a bird with human attachments, but that’s only her physical being. She considers herself ruler of hell—to the point where others worship her as a goddess. That’s what makes her dangerous.”
Gerald stood stone still as the fly drifted over a ripple of water. When the wings submerged, he yanked hard at the pole and started turning the handle of the reel like he was trying to
start a fire inside the mechanism. The rod bent so far over the water that Sere thought the tip was going to be pulled under. For a man in his eighties, Gerald showed remarkable tenacity in drawing the fish downriver toward him. As it passed him and dove into the calm pond below Sere’s rock, the big man splashed wader-deep into the stream to keep the line aimed straight toward the creature. He pulled the net from his belt as deftly as Sere would draw the shotgun from her thigh holster. With a swift swish through the water, he snagged the redfish, which filled the net from rim to rim. He shook the net to get the fish firmly inside. “That would explain why my sister is seeking the alliance. She never did care for dealing with anyone but the person at the top of the pyramid.”
“Nice catch.” Sere stood up on the rock. Her muscles ached from keeping still for so long. “The Cormorant has it in for me, but she can’t get to me here among the living. There’s no love lost between me and your sister. If they join forces, I need to understand what they’re up to. Doodlebug is my only spy in hell. If either of those women learn of her presence and capture her, I’ll be in a worse situation than I am already. I won’t ask you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, but if those two women have their way, hell will be coming to the living. Right now I may be the only one able to stop it.”
He removed the hook from the fish, measured it, and let it go back into the river. “I’ll do what I can, but as I’ve said before, I need to stay in the shadows to be the most effective. It would be best if you didn’t tell your spy about me.”
She was surprised he went to such trouble only to let his catch escape, but then human activities seldom made much sense to her. “No worries there. I’m not even sure how far I trust her. Have you developed any additional insights into what your sister is up to?” Though Gerald might’ve been hesitant to engage Marjory in battle, he’d never held back what he knew.
