Frenchman Street_A Novel of The Sentinels of New Orleans Page 12

  I reached over to Rene and stroked his cheek, speaking to him in my head as if he were Rand, except nicer. Rene, wake up. Can you hear me? You’re okay. It’s DJ. Talk to me. RENE!

  I held my breath. If I’d done anything to hurt him, I couldn’t live with it. Zrakovi could just kill me.

  After a couple of the longest seconds in history, he opened his eyes and struggled to focus. Finally, he saw me. I hear you, babe. What the hell happened?

  I don’t know.

  We both sat up, and I fought off a wave of queasiness. This felt more like last time. I reached out and scrubbed a hand through the chalk circle, which released the pressure of the containment and wiped out the spinning room and the urge to barf. There had been too much power contained in that one small space.

  “That’s better.” Rene climbed to his feet with Jean’s help. “I can’t believe I ate an apple and went through that shit for a know-it-all vampire I don’t even like.”

  “Monsieur Hoffman might prove useful, as he did in coming to our aid earlier,” Jean reminded him. “So we must aid in hastening his freedom now.”

  Jean could feign concern for Adrian all he wanted, but Rene and I knew the truth. He wanted revenge on the backstabbing Etienne Boulard.

  We considered waiting until daylight in the human world before transporting into Vampyre, but since it was always dark in much of the Beyond—Faerie and Elfheim being the two exceptions—none of us thought it would matter. Vampires didn’t need to sleep, so it wasn’t like we could pick a safe time.

  For the rest, we’d have to rely on our instincts, the charms and potions we could cram in our pockets, and what magic I could send to Rene through the staff. We would transport in and find the lake; Rene would shift into classic merman form and release Adrian and Terri while I stood guard; we would all transport out. Easy-peasy (said no sane wizard, ever).

  “I still don’t like it, DJ.” Rand resumed his nervous pacing. “You’re too big a target.”

  “I have her back,” Rene said.

  “Pourquoi?” Jean peered around Rene, sliding his gaze up and down the merman’s back, no doubt wondering how, exactly, he might also have mine.

  “Rand can explain later,” I assured him. We needed to get busy.

  Rand pulled out the dark marble bowl we’d first used to scry Adrian and poured a half-gallon of purified water into it. “Jean and I will watch from here, and I can let DJ know what we can see.” He’d established that he and Rene could not communicate mentally, which pleased them both.

  “Rand, don’t you have any holy water? That’s not going to work.” I’d tried scrying with other kinds of water before and nothing happened.

  He gave me a level look that told me, in clear terms, that the scrying needs of a mutt such as myself were not necessary for His Elfness.

  “Fine,” I said. “I’ll get some charms and potions while you get Pentewyn ready.”

  Rand had finally offered to send a dragon with us, which was pretty generous considering he didn’t want to be openly opposed to the vampires. If it came down to it, I’d claim to have stolen Pentewyn from Elfheim and keep Rand out of it.

  Pen, as I’d nicknamed him, was the dragon who’d done the flyovers of the fireworks earlier this evening in place of the still-traumatized Melanwahr. He’d told Rand four men with fang marks on their necks lay unconscious near the site. He also claimed to have pulled them out of harm’s way without being spotted.

  I’d found the story ludicrous—a rescue dragon being able to maneuver about unseen—until I saw Pen sitting in the middle of the former nursery next to a suspicious Sebastian, who sniffed at him like an interesting lizard, aka cat snack.

  Sebastian was almost twice the dragon’s size, my former cat having put on at least ten pounds since Rand took him in. Pentewyn—which meant firebrand—was the size of a crow, with startling sky-blue eyes and glossy black, navy, and charcoal-gray scales. When Rand had introduced me to him last night after telling me the story and I’d reached out to pet him, Pentewyn grew until he reached school-bus size, much like Melanwahr, and snorted steam in my direction.

  Suddenly, Sebastian saw his potential prey turn into an apex predator and ran into parts unknown.

  The world was such a freaky place. Which is why humans needed to continue in their innocence. I could barely handle it, and I was one of the freaks.

  While the guys clattered downstairs, I went in my bedroom, opened the closet door, and sat on the floor, sifting through the bottles and vials of potions and charms I had been making in my spare time. Wizards’ physical magic didn’t work in Vampyre; I’d tried before and failed. Ritual magic, however, would give us an advantage if we had to fight our way out. What condition Adrian and Terri were in was an X-factor.

  I picked out three small explosive charms that would work underwater if Rene needed them to get Adrian and Terri out of their cage. Otherwise, they could be used to blow up a few vampires. Freezing charms were always useful because they could be slung out of the vial.

  I considered one of my favorites, the confusion charm, but I wasn’t sure it would override a vampire’s instinct to bite. A vamp’s bite could be painful or orgasmic, depending on the whim of the vampire; an orgasmic bite would be more dangerous in a fight. I tucked the confusion charm back in its case for a future emergency.

  Finally, I found enough camouflage potions for all of us in case we needed to hide. Then I dug through Rand’s kitchen cabinet and came up with some lemongrass oil for us to spread on our exposed skin. Vampires despised the smell only half as badly as they hated the taste.

  Certain I’d done all I could, I went downstairs and had to listen to Rene grumble as I greased him down with lemongrass oil. Jean enjoyed spreading it on me until he tried tasting it.

  “Jolie, are you certain you are not attempting to poison me, who has been such a loyal friend to you?” he asked, his dark-blue eyes watering from the acrid taste of the oil.

  “I don’t do poison,” I said. “Well, not intentionally. As someone recently pointed out, I’m more of a blunt-force trauma kind of girl.”

  “Ah.”

  He had no idea what I meant, but I earned a snort of laughter from Rene. Rand could explain that to Jean, too. Otherwise, I had no idea what they’d talk about. I was their only common interest. Maybe they could sort through their individual delusions about me and our imaginary futures. That way, I wouldn’t have to listen to them.

  Rene and I sorted the potions and charms between us, working out our own systems to remember which vial or zippered plastic bag did what.

  Then we all looked at Pen, who’d been watching everything with interest and, to Rene’s dismay, had even unfurled a long, narrow, forked tongue to taste of the lemongrass oil on the merman’s neck. The dragon liked it, if purring meant anything.

  “Tell Pen he can’t do that in Vampyre,” I told Rand. “His purring sounds like an airplane engine. The vamps would all know we were there.”

  Rand patted the dragon on the neck, and they seemed to commune with each other a moment. I was glad I couldn’t hear that conversation.

  “I think you and Rene should transport in first and let me send Pentewyn alone a few moments later,” Rand said. “That way, you can clear the area and he won’t land on top of you if he feels the need to go in big.” Pen had shrunk back to crow-size, but if he sensed danger, he’d turn into a fire-belching Goodyear Blimp.

  I said a quick farewell to Jean and Rand, not wanting any emotional declarations or promises. Kneeling, I touched Charlie to the edge of the transport and said “Vampyre Arena.” Three or four seconds of feeling sucked through a vacuum cleaner hose, and we were there.

  A full moon shone over the ancestral home of the vampires, illuminating the uneven ground covered in scrubby vegetation.

  Behind us is a sheer dropoff we don’t want to see the bottom of, I told Rene. The cliff should be to our west and the arena east, so the lake would be to our left.

  We began a brisk walk towar
d the lake, moving from cover to cover behind the scrubby bushes, but froze at the sound of a roar coming from the arena. Behind us, a soft croak sounded as Pentewyn landed. I glanced back, alarmed, as Pen reacted to another roar from the stadium by growing beyond school bus to double-decker tourist bus.

  Rand! I shouted in my head. Can you hear me? What the hell is going on in that arena?

  I hear you. Let me change my angle. It looks like some kind of sporting event. Hang on.

  Vampires had football? I doubted it. Rene, go ahead and get Adrian and Terri. I think we’re gonna need to get out of here fast. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on the arena entrance.

  I took up residence behind a bush, watching the only arena entrance I could see. Pen shrunk again and waited next to me.

  I peered through the branches—without sunlight, leaves were a rare commodity in this realm. The arena, as when I’d seen it before, looked like a low-rent version of the Roman Colosseum, complete with crumbling white columns that glowed in the moonlight.

  DJ, it’s a tournament of some sort. There are at least a couple hundred vampires in the stands. Stay out of sight and let me try to zoom in closer. I pictured Rand there in his nice, safe kitchen with his bowl of water and wished I was there with him.

  Damn it. They’re dragging out a body without a head, and some giant beast with four tusks is charging around the arena floor. It’s like bullfighting on steroids, only with vampires.

  Holy crap. Well, I guess I knew what the vamps did for fun on a weeknight evening. Rene, get Adrian and get the hell back here asap. Stay out of view of the arena if you can. Rand, tell Pen to stay small.

  I seemed to have become the coordinator of the world’s freakiest rescue mission.

  Doesn’t Adrian’s girlfriend have bright red hair? Rand asked.

  Yes, why? A bitter dread filled me up like bile.

  I think she’s next on the mutant bull’s menu.

  Shit. Rene, you hearing me? I tried to talk fast.

  Yeah, but Adrian’s girlfriend ain’t down here, DJ. I got the cage open using the magic charm, and I’m pulling Adrian out.

  Okay, listen while you work. Get Adrian and transport back immediately. There are hundreds of vampires in that arena, and Terri isn’t going to live through it.

  I shifted gears without waiting for an answer. Rand, what’s going on?

  Terri’s been gutted by the giant bull; no way she’ll survive. I’m sending Pen up to circle the arena and keep them occupied. Get out of there now, Dru. Rene knows how to get back.

  If Rand thought I was running for my life and leaving Rene and Adrian behind, he was nutballs. Of all of us, I had the best chance of survival, except, maybe, for the dragon.

  Rene dragged a semi-conscious Adrian into the clearing while, behind him, Pen grew into a Boeing 737. With a flap of wings, he launched off the deadly cliff, then crossed overhead and began a circle above the arena. I could tell when he had been spotted by the spectators. The Realm of Vampyre grew deadly quiet except for the flapping of enormous wings and echoing bellows and snorts from the world’s biggest flying lizard.

  I joined Rene, and we rushed toward the transport, only to find Garrett Melnick materialize beside it, along with two vampires I’d never seen, one male and one female.

  What’s going on, Dru? Rand asked. Is that Melnick?

  Yes. We’re going to have to fight our way out. Can Pen keep the rest of the vamps tied up?

  Yes, he’s already toasted a dozen. They’re contained.

  I couldn’t chat with Rand and deal with this mess, so I cut him off. He and Pen could handle everything else. Rene and I had the biggest badass in Vampyre to deal with.

  Rene, let’s split up. Keep an eye on Adrian, though. Melnick can probably control him.

  How ironic if we came to rescue Adrian and he ended up killing us. Of course, the irony would be lost on us since we’d be dead.

  “Ms. Jaco. What a surprise to see you here.” Melnick might look like a reject from Mötley Crüe, but he had a soft, silky voice like a vampire, perfect for seduction. “I thought you were still hiding in the arms of your dead pirate.”

  Rene, I’ll keep him talking. Get Adrian in that transport and get the hell out of here. I’ll follow after you’re gone.

  I ain’t leav—

  Now! I screeched at him. Stab a vampire on your way out.

  I turned my attention back to Melnick. “You’re behind the times, Regent. Of course, you’d be more up to date if you hadn’t let a faery attend the Interspecies Council meeting in your place earlier tonight.” He registered no surprised. “A lot has happened in the last few days while your people were entertaining New Orleanians with those impressive fireworks shows and secretly backing Florian.”

  “Oh? And what might that….be?” Melnick didn’t deny the fireworks comment. He only paused and glanced to the side as Rene slipped up behind the male vamp and slit the guy’s throat, then shoved a knife in his back to puncture the heart. The woman vamp didn’t respond at all, and Melnick simply gave Rene a visual once-over as the dead vampire hit the ground. Guess flunkies were expendable for the Regent of Vampyre. One pair of fangs was the same as the next.

  “What is your friend?” Melnick asked in a casual tone, as if inquiring about a menu item. “Definitely not human.”

  I waited to answer until I saw Rene drag a groggy Adrian into the transport and disappear. He left me with the Rene version of an endearment: We’ll discuss this later, witch.

  “He’s a shifter,” I said.

  Melnick nodded. “The Delachaise boy, then. Toussaint’s youngest. I’d heard he was keeping company with those of you hiding out in the pirate’s den. Frankly, I’m surprised you’d waste time coming for Adrian Hoffman. He’s a total waste of fangs.”

  I didn’t like Melnick knowing so much about Rene, and the fact that he did made me suspect the waste of fangs had been running his mouth.

  The female vampire stalked to my left, but I was ready. I shifted my left hand into the pocket of my jeans and flipped the vial off a freezing charm. As soon as the vamp got within grabbing distance, I flung the contents in her face.

  She fell like a dead oak and should stay that way for at least an hour.

  Again, Melnick watched but didn’t move. Maybe he was gathering intelligence, or maybe he didn’t care.

  “So, what else have I missed out on, Ms. Jaco…or are you Mrs. Randolph?”

  He could call me whatever he wanted if he’d stop blocking my way to the transport.

  “Whichever you prefer,” I said, adding through teeth only slightly gritted, “since I am the bondmate of the Lord of Elfheim.”

  Damn it. Why did I keep forgetting to play the elf card? My position with Rand gave me more power than a dragon and a black spell. As long as the vampires weren’t sure which team the elves were playing for, they wouldn’t risk killing me. It’s why Melnick wasn’t calling for backup.

  “Yes, you certainly are Mr. Randolph’s bondmate. I take it this means you’re allowed back into New Orleans now, to resume your status among the wizards?”

  I pondered whether it would help or hurt for him to know my status, then decided the more elven I was, the better. “I’m living with my bondmate and am under the full protection of Elfheim,” I said. “And it’s come to our attention that you seem to be throwing the fate of Vampyre behind Prince Florian, even to the point of letting him or one of his minions imitate you among the Interspecies Council earlier tonight. That hasn’t gone over well with the elves. We assume you’ve officially chosen sides?”

  That got him. Melnick’s only reaction was a slight widening of his eyes, but it was a clear tell. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Vampyre has sided with no one.”

  Right, and I had some swampland in Faerie for sale. “It would have been a brilliant plan, having Florian go to the meeting glamoured to look like you and wearing peridot to disguise his identity.” I heaved a great, put-upon sigh. “But what you haven’t learned
yet is that Prince Florian can’t hold his temper. What a tantrum he had. Lightning. Thunder loud enough to wake the undead. Hailstones big enough to dent the most expensive of cars. He blew his own cover—and yours.”

  I wasn’t sure how vampires managed to grind their teeth without their fangs getting in the way, but Melnick seemed to manage. While I talked, I had been slowly maneuvering so that the transport was no longer directly behind him. The sickening smell of charred flesh made the air smell like the world’s biggest barbecue as Pen continued to circle and snort.

  I didn’t need a dragon to set fire to Melnick; I had Charlie.

  Ducking as I pulled out the staff, I released a rope of fire, but Melnick was too quick. He disappeared, then reappeared a few feet away. Which is why he was standing inside the transport when Rene reappeared.

  Damn it, I’d told him not to come back for me. Melnick wouldn’t kill me, but he would kill Toussaint Delachaise’s baby boy.

  The vampire spun so fast I couldn’t track his movement, but when he stopped, he had fangs sunk into the side of Rene’s neck, perilously close to the carotid artery. He looked up at me and we both knew he could kill with one small movement. If the lemongrass oil bothered him, he gave no sign of it. It had probably washed off in the lake.

  Damn it, I would not lose Rene, but if I shot Melnick with the staff, he’d rip out Rene’s throat on his way down.

  While Melnick drank, I caught mental flashes of Rene’s and my friendship—we’d crammed a lifetime into what was only five months. I closed my eyes and saw our first meeting outside the Blue Velvet oyster bar in Plaquemines Parish, when Rene told me how much he hated wizards. He’d plucked me out of the river and done CPR to save me, not knowing his twin brother lay dying nearby. We’d run from serial killers together, gotten drunk together, eaten andouille in bathrobes in Jean Lafitte’s hotel suite, and had gotten Alex to implicate himself in the theft of a cherry-red Corvette convertible. We’d thought about what it would be like for Alex to be out of the way so we could be together…