The Undead Uproar Page 22

  That was reassuring. Er, well, kind of. “Where are we going?”

  “Not far.” He blinked and the museum dissolved, Tam with it. We found ourselves in a fogbound cemetery. I recognized it as St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 because of Marie Laveau’s tomb.

  “I’ve been here,” I murmured.

  “You have,” he agreed. I noticed a cigar and bottle of rum had magically appeared in his hands. He happily puffed away as I looked around the dark tombs. “What do you know about brujas, Charlie?”

  I wasn’t expecting the question and yet I still had an answer ready. “They’re witches. Powerful witches at that.”

  “You’ve met witches before.”

  “The Winchesters,” I confirmed, thinking about the outrageous family of witches I’d met in Michigan months before. “The first job I went on when I joined the Legacy Foundation was in Hemlock Cove. They’re not evil.”

  Legba chuckled. “No. They’re not evil, although I’ve considered holding open a special spot for Tillie when her time comes. She’ll probably tell me to stuff it when I tell her what I have in mind for her. The asking will be entertaining regardless. That’s not important right now.

  “Brujas is the term used more often in the South, especially here,” he continued. “Witch is the more common term in the north. Essentially, they’re the same. Witches, much like people, are not one thing. They can be good or evil. They can be both … and at the same time. Just ask Tillie Winchester.”

  I smiled despite myself and then sobered. “So ... basically you’re saying that we’re dealing with an evil witch,” I mused.

  “That’s a bit simplistic, but essentially, yes. It’s unfortunate, but that’s where we’re at.”

  “Do you know who it is?”

  “No. This bruja has clouded itself. I don’t even know if it’s a man or woman.”

  “I thought most witches were female.”

  “They are, but men join the craft just as readily as women. Come with me again.” He grabbed my hand without waiting this time, and when we arrived at our next destination I realized we were back in my hotel room.

  Jack, his chest bare, slept soundly in the bed. I was next to him, our fingers joined. It felt weird to look at myself that way, yet I understood I was having an out-of-body experience rather than a dream. Somehow — it made no sense, but somehow — I was fine knowing that my consciousness was taking a trip while leaving my body behind.

  “He is of this world, both feet firmly planted,” Legba explained. “I thought he was a lost cause to bring to our side because he refuses to believe in the impossible. Then he met you. He thought it was impossible to have feelings even though they threatened to overwhelm him.”

  “He’s a good man.” I felt the urge to stand up for Jack even though it wasn’t necessary. “He always does what he believes is right. You can’t have his soul either.”

  “Ugh. You need to let go of the soul thing.” Legba made a face. “Soul deals are rare. We make them, it’s true, but we’re not interested in your soul. We’re not interested in Jack’s soul either. You two are far too intertwined now to be separated.”

  That was reassuring ... sort of. “Then why are you so interested in him?”

  “He’s an important example of people being willing to change even when you think their belief system is set in stone. Jack didn’t believe in anything but being a stand-up guy until you came along. Now he is more than he was. His adoration for you will make him stronger. Your feelings for him will make you a warrior.”

  I was back to being confused. “What does that have to do with the zombies?”

  “I cannot see the bruja,” Papa Legba explained. “Why do you think that is?”

  “Because ... because he or she doesn’t want you to see. They’re hiding.”

  “It takes powerful magic to hide from me. The Quarter is full of powerful magic. It was birthed on the sort of magic that sustains for generations. That magic will continue for a very long time. There are hundreds of people in the Quarter with a little magic, which makes for a powerful experience for those in the know. There are very few individuals with a lot of power, though.”

  Realization dawned. “That’s why you want me. You think I have a lot of power.”

  “I know you do,” he corrected. “You have more power than most of the pretenders to the throne. You have more power than those who really play the game for altruistic purposes. You are unique. The person we’re looking for is unique. You’re like different sides of the same coin.”

  He said it with pride, but I was hardly happy to hear it. “What am I supposed to do?” I felt helpless. “How am I supposed to fight evil when I’m hiding who I am? I can’t drag Jack to a magic fight, but there’s no way he’s going to sit back and let me go on my own.”

  “Jack has a few struggles ahead of him. They’re not nearly as bad as you think. He’ll be fine. You said it yourself. He’s a good man and that won’t change. I am not worried about Jack.”

  “What are you worried about?”

  “You’re a target, Charlie. Whoever is doing this knows you’re here. He or she recognizes you for what you are. You’re a threat to their ultimate plan and they want to take you out.”

  “But ... how could they know I’m here?”

  “Think about it.”

  “I ... .” It didn’t take long for things to slip into place. “I’ve met whoever it is, haven’t I?”

  “I don’t know about ‘met,’” he cautioned. “This individual has seen you, whether it be through your travels in the Quarter, your visits to various stores and restaurants, or even your presence in the cemeteries. You leave a ripple when you pass, Charlie. It’s a ripple not everyone can see.”

  “So ... what do I do?”

  “Keep your eyes open. Listen to your heart. There will come a time when you hear a warning. It will be little more than a whisper on the wind. Don’t ignore it. Not only does your life hang in the balance, but Jack’s as well.

  “He won’t leave you,” he continued. “You know that deep down. Your fear clouds your judgment, but he will not leave you no matter the circumstances. He’s already bonded himself to you even though he doesn’t realize it. He did it from the start.

  “He told himself that he wanted to protect you because you were young and he saw you as vulnerable,” he said. “That wasn’t the reason. He was drawn to you on a spiritual level. He continues to be drawn to you on that level. I don’t believe it’s something that will ever wane, but that’s still to play out.

  “Your enemy grows close, but I still can’t see through the mist.” He pointed toward the window, to the growing fog. “Whoever it is grows desperate. I don’t think you have much time. You need to be careful. Open your mind. Trust your senses.”

  “And then what?” I was rapidly getting fed up with this dream. “What happens when I find who it is? Will I have to kill him or her?”

  “Yes.”

  “But ... I don’t want to kill people.”

  “Because you have a pure heart.” His expression was almost piteous. “You can’t change who you are, Charlie. You can’t change what you are either. You’re a champion. Champions fight. You won’t have a say in the matter.”

  I watched the figures on the bed. The other me looked almost distressed in sleep. And, even though he was dead to the world, Jack sensed it. “Charlie,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around the other me. “It’s okay.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I don’t want to risk him. It’s not fair.”

  “Let him decide what’s fair,” Papa Legba instructed. “Don’t fight the battles that are unimportant. Focus on those that are necessary.”

  “How much time do I have?”

  “Not long. Be ready.”

  “Will you be there in the end?”

  “I am everywhere, Charlie. You need not worry. Much like Jack, I will never abandon you. It is written in the stars. Trust your heart. Trust me. Trust Jack. You cannot be led astray if y
ou do those things.”

  “And what about the other stuff? What about my parents?”

  “All in good time. Fight this battle first. We’ll tackle the war after that.”

  And just like that, he was gone and I was back in my body, Jack wrapped around me. I was warm and safe. But how long would that last?

  Twenty-Three

  I woke with Jack still wrapped around me. His breathing told me he was awake, so I rolled to face him. His smile was the first thing I saw and it eased some of the tension building inside of me.

  Did I dream everything last night? I didn’t think so.

  “Good morning,” he murmured, leaning forward to give me a kiss. “Are you okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Thibodeaux was a jerk last night.”

  “Oh, that.” I shook my head. “I’m okay. I don’t understand why he seems so fixated on me, but I’m okay.”

  “Yeah. You’re tough.” He kept his eyes on me. “You were restless for a bit last night, but you settled down. You said something weird.”

  “I said something?” I furrowed my brow as I tried to remember. “What did I say?”

  “You said you don’t want to kill people.”

  I vaguely remembered that from my conversation with Papa Legba. “I had a dream.” That was the truth. It was a dream. Sure, the odds of the conversation being real were high, but it was still a dream. “Do you know who Papa Legba is?”

  “Am I supposed to?”

  “He’s famous in hoodoo circles. He’s been referenced in all the books we’ve been reading.”

  “Now that you mention it, I do remember that name. Did you dream about him?”

  “Yeah. He said I was going to have to fight a bruja.”

  “What’s a bruja?”

  “An evil witch.”

  “Ah.” His lips curved. “Maybe he was talking about Laura.”

  “Wouldn’t you like that?” I snuggled closer, our shared body warmth rapidly diminishing. “I’m afraid that there’s a fight coming.”

  “You don’t have to fight. I’ll keep you safe.”

  “That’s a nice offer and I appreciate it. I’m all about feminist power, though. I’d like to be able to protect myself.”

  “Meaning?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe when we get back you can teach me some self-defense moves. You probably know a ton of them.”

  “I could do that.”

  “It will be another bonding exercise.”

  “Yes, a sweaty one at that.”

  I laughed when his lips moved to my neck. “I see you’re much more interested in the prospect now that you’ve worked out it’s going to be sweaty.”

  “I’m a guy. Sue me.”

  “What time is it?”

  “We have an hour until breakfast.”

  “I bet I know how you want to fill that hour.”

  “I bet you do.”

  WE MADE IT TO THE TABLE in the restaurant with two minutes to spare. Everyone was already seated and conversation was flowing. Only Laura looked annoyed at our appearance.

  “It’s nice to see you guys could tear yourselves away from each other,” she sneered.

  “Shut up, Laura.” Jack’s mood was markedly brighter than it had been the previous evening. That didn’t mean he was willing to put up with her crap. He grabbed two menus from the center of the table, handed me one, and then focused on Chris. “What’s the deal today?”

  “We have a plan,” Chris announced. “Hannah has managed to wrangle an invitation to the autopsy of Mr. Landry. I don’t want her there alone. In fact, I prefer no one is alone from here on out.”

  “Send Laura with her,” Jack suggested.

  “Ugh. Thank you for that.” Laura made a face. “I don’t want to see an autopsy. Besides, I’m going with you and Chris. You need my expertise.”

  She looked smug, which set my teeth on edge. “And where are you going?” I asked.

  “We’re doing a forensic survey of St. Louis Cemetery,” Chris replied. “We’ve already talked to your friend Leon, and he’s agreed to get us in. Only three of us can go, and we need Laura’s expertise on this particular subject. She’s the only one who has conducted multiple surveys of cemeteries.”

  Yup. Laura was definitely feeling full of herself. The way she puffed out her chest was a dead giveaway.

  “And where is Charlie going?” Jack demanded.

  “I thought she could go with Hannah to the medical examiner’s office. Nothing will happen there.”

  Jack didn’t look convinced that was true. “I don’t know.” His thoughts were right on the surface. He wanted to say “I want her with me,” but he knew better. That would constitute a security snafu. He was supposed to be present for surveys, something he’d mentioned not long after I joined the team, and Chris was technically the boss. “Maybe Charlie should stay here at the hotel,” he said after a beat. “Millie can go to the medical examiner’s office and Charlie can stay here with Bernard.”

  I hated that idea with a fiery passion. “No way.”

  He shot me a quelling look. “I’m just saying that if you stay here the odds of Thibodeaux being able to jump all over you are slim.”

  “I know you’re worried.” Chris adopted a pragmatic tone. “I’m worried, too. Nothing will stop Thibodeaux from taking her into custody if he gets a bug up his butt. Besides, yesterday’s attack happened on these grounds. It might be better for her to be away from the hotel. What are the odds an attack will happen at the medical examiner’s office?”

  That seemed a fair question. Jack still wasn’t happy.

  “I just don’t like it.” Jack growled and shifted his eyes to me. “What do you think?”

  I wasn’t expecting the question. I thought he would dictate terms. Instead, he was asking my opinion. “I don’t want to stay here,” I answered truthfully. “I’m not all that keen on the medical examiner’s office, but I don’t want to be cut out of the loop.”

  He turned his eyes to Millie. “What are you doing today?”

  “Myron knows a hoodoo historian at Loyola University,” she replied. “Bernard and I are heading over there. I thought Charlie might be good on that assignment, but we’ll be out in the open and if someone really is zeroing in on her ... .” She left the statement hanging.

  “Then she would be easier to access at the university,” Jack finished. “I get it. I just don’t like this. I cannot for the life of me fathom why someone has decided to make Charlie a target.”

  “I can think of a few reasons,” Laura muttered.

  “Shut up, Laura,” Chris snapped. He rarely lost his cool, but he was obviously on edge today. “I’m with Jack. The focus on Charlie is troubling. All I can figure is that she makes an appealing target to someone who has been watching us. They know we’ll be crippled if something happens to her.”

  “Which is why I don’t want to be separated from her,” Jack admitted.

  “I understand, but we need three bodies for the survey.” Chris didn’t back down. “I think the safest place for her is the medical examiner’s office. There will be police officers and authorized personnel there. She’s less likely to be attacked in that location. Plus, if she’s at the medical examiner’s office, they have cameras. She can’t be accused of anything if she’s on camera.”

  “I get what you’re saying.” Jack was resigned as he glanced at me. “Try to be good when you’re out and about, huh? No wandering away.”

  “I don’t wander,” I said primly as I looked at the menu. “I’ll be fine. You worry about doing your job and I’ll worry about doing mine.”

  “Your safety falls under my purview,” Jack reminded me.

  “Don’t worry,” Laura offered. “I’m sure I’ll be able to distract you from worry over your pet bunny.”

  “Shut up, Laura,” Hannah growled. It was rare for her to lose her temper, but she was testy. “If you weren’t such a pain we could work as a seamless unit. I don’t un
derstand why you always have to be the difficult one.”

  “I guess I was just born that way,” Laura drawled.

  “Well, maybe it’s time for some behavior modification,” Hannah suggested. “I hear they’ve made great strides with electroshock therapy. Perhaps you should look into that.”

  I had no idea if Hannah was joking, but I couldn’t stop from laughing. Within seconds, everyone at the table — other than Laura, of course — had joined in. It served to ease the tension.

  “It’s going to be fine,” I promised Jack, squeezing his knee under the table. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll be perfectly fine.”

  “That would be a nice change of pace.”

  THE NEW ORLEANS CORONER’S Office was located outside the French Quarter, near the Mercedes-Benz Superdome. I wasn’t someone who cared about sports teams all that much, but the building was impressive.

  “That’s neat, huh?”

  Hannah barely spared a glance. “It’s fine. If you like that sort of thing, I mean.”

  Hannah wasn’t always talkative, but she seemed even more distracted than usual this morning. Our driver dropped us in front of the office with instructions to text when we were ready to leave. Hannah was engrossed in a report she was reading on her phone.

  “What is that?”

  “The preliminary report on Mr. Landry,” Hannah replied, glancing around to make sure nobody was eavesdropping before we entered the building. “There’s no scientific explanation that can explain how he was on his feet. None.”

  “So ... you’re basically saying he was really a zombie.”

  “Scientifically, zombies are nonsense,” she countered. “The elements would kill them in both humidity and cold climates. When part of the human body goes awry, we don’t move. We become inert. The human central nervous system controls movement and that goes out the window when you’re dead.

  “White blood cells would attack any zombie virus to the point we’d be overloaded,” she continued, deadly serious. “We eat food to convert to energy, but there’s no such thing as a metabolism if you’re dead. Animals would attack the dead before we were even aware of them.