Witch's Wrath (Blood And Magick #3)(45)

Jared, unfazed by my display of power, approached with his hands stretched out toward me. “You aren’t a murderer,” he said, “And you’re cleverer than this. We need to go to that house, find out what she’s up to, and figure out a way to bring her to trial.”

“Trial? Are you crazy?”

“No, I’m just speaking on behalf of your rational side. I’m telling you what I know you would say if you could think straight. Be angry, but learn to use it as a tool—don’t let it use you.”

Nicole, who was standing behind him with a concerned look on her face, now appeared soft and gentle, and every bit her old, kind self.

“I never should have doubted you,” Nicole said. She had something in her hand, a rectangular, brown envelope with a black wax seal on it. Embedded into the wax was the likeness of a skull. “I was mad at the wrong person, and I’m going to spend years making it up to you.”

She stretched her hand out and gave me the envelope, which was addressed to me at Lumière’s address, but had hand-written instructions on the front to ‘deliver to the blue house across the street if no one’s home’. I recognized the handwriting immediately; it was Remy’s delicate, eloquent hand.

“What is this?” I asked, puzzled.

“It arrived yesterday,” she said, “I was going to tell you about it when you were here, but we were fighting… I thought me giving it to you now would help you calm down a little.”

I stared at her, then at the envelope, and then I noticed the broken wax seal. “You opened it?”

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I was mad at you, and confused, and I… I was a jerk.”

My heart started thumping, but instead of getting more worked up, I felt myself coming down from the anger and settling into something like gratitude. Gratitude that Jared had acted so quickly, that Nicole had been so clever, and that I had another chance to communicate with Remy, even if it was one-sided communication.

“We can sit down, and you can read it if you want,” Jared said.

“No,” I said, drawing the back of my hand across my cheeks to wipe the tears away. “If Tamara has called a meeting, we shouldn’t waste time in getting out there.”

“I still want to keep you hidden,” Nicole said, “If there’s even a chance Tamara doesn’t know you’re still alive, we need to use it.”

“Let’s get to the Hollow first, and then we can figure out a plan, okay?” Jared asked.

Nicole agreed, and we started heading out. I had woken up sore and exhausted, but adrenaline was coursing through my veins now, filling me with energy and purpose. And while I had to look upon Lumière’s blackened remains once more before we left the French Quarter, I didn’t feel sad; I felt righteous anger burning through me, as if the divine fire itself were burning in my heart.

Remy and Lumière weren’t to be mourned, they were to be avenged. I was going to do just that.





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO


A break at the Hollow was exactly what I needed. Sitting there for a while among the trees, the flowers and the grass, thinking about nothing and letting the sounds, the smells, and the magick infuse my being, left me feeling refreshed and magickally capable; more than I had felt in a long time, even before my attack last night.

I would have wanted some more time to relax, but we didn’t have time; we had to get to the Garden District house before Tamara could infect the gathered crowd with her subtle vitriol. She would talk about me, and about Remy, and would use our deaths to kickstart her crusade against the vampires living in New Orleans.

Starting with Jean Luc.

The Garden District itself was as quiet as ever when we arrived, serene and peaceful. But when Jared shut the bike off outside, a ruckus reached my ears. Looking around at the other quiet homes on the district, it was a wonder no one had called the police yet. Nicole’s car was nowhere to be seen, but that was because she had parked it in a public lot not far from the house. We had driven right to it. Even before getting off the bike, I had begun dulling my aura enough so the magick wards wouldn’t trip.

I had set them up, so I knew how to bypass them without bringing them down.

“Nicole’s already inside, then,” Jared said as he dismounted.

“Sounds like she’s stalling for us,” I said, “Can you hear what they’re saying?”

“No, but we should hurry.”

I walked briskly along the sidewalk, toward the front gate, and then up to the front door which Nicole had left ajar. Going through the garden would have drawn suspicion, but going in this way, I knew I wouldn’t be seen; everyone would be too busy staring eyes-front to see me hiding by the entrance to the ballroom. The closer I got, the louder the voices got. There were people here, alright, but the ruckus wasn’t being caused by many voices, only two: Nicole and Tamara.

It seemed I had walked into the tail end of a conversation between the two where they were discussing my ignorance, and how it had gotten me killed. Nicole, who was the only voice contesting the point, argued that it hadn’t been ignorance that had killed me, but a lack of support. What if I had changed my ways and decided to go hunting for vampires? And what if, being ostracized as I had been from the witches in the city, I had felt too alone to ask for help?