The Witch's Thirst
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Lucien dodged the fist and quickened his pace, his ear still tuned to the woman’s voice.
“Oh, yeah, baby. Give me more. I want more.”
By the sound of her voice, Lucien suspected she was already copulating, or was about to, with whatever man she’d picked up on the street. From where he stood, Lucien noticed the woman had her back to him in an alley that grew darker with every step he took.
Even in the darkness, however, Lucien noticed something white just over the woman’s left shoulder. No question, it was a Nosferatu in midtransformation.
“What the f-fuck?” the woman said.
There was no mistaking the balding white head, the large vein that bulged from its forehead. Quite noticeable even in the dark.
Despite her slurred speech, a testament to heavy alcohol consumption, the woman evidently didn’t care for what she witnessed, either. That white bald head, the cauliflower ears, the pointed fangs that should have been front teeth. Her screams, when they came, told Lucien she had suddenly turned stone-cold sober. But her cries for help were drowned out by revelers shouting, laughing, talking up in the Quarter, where the action was at an all-time high.
Lucien remembered what Evee said he should do if he spotted a Nosferatu. Yet he stood mesmerized, watching the Nosferatu’s clawlike hands wrap around the woman’s arm, holding tight. Its head tilted back, fangs showing, ready to strike.
Suddenly snapping out of his stupor, Lucien placed two fingers against his bottom lip and let out a loud, shrill whistle.
So far, the only thing his whistle did was create a diversion for the creature. It turned to Lucien, hissed, then sank its fangs into the woman’s throat. Its eyes rolled back in its head as it drank, sucked, consumed the meal before him. As much as he wanted to do something to save her, Lucien knew he was no match for a Nosferatu. He didn’t have the weapons or the magic to send it to its knees.
In what felt like the blink of an eye, he found Ronan at his side.
“Son of a bitch,” Ronan said, looking at the Nosferatu feasting on the woman.
“No shit,” Lucien said.
Evidently irritated by the sound of Lucien and Ronan’s voice, the Nosferatu abruptly threw the woman it had been feeding on to one side. And a second later, it stood right in front of the Benders, a hand on each of their throats.
“You stupid, little men. What were you whistling for? Your dinner or mine?” the creature said.
Its grip on Lucien’s neck felt like a band of steel. Its fangs were exposed, twisted and yellow, and dripping with blood.
In a flash, Lucien did the only thing he knew to do. He kneed the Nosferatu in the groin. He didn’t know if it would have the same effect as it would’ve had on a human, but he didn’t care. In that moment, he had to do something.
Fortunately, Lucien’s effort threw the creature off balance, which caused it to release Ronan and Lucien, giving them time to unsheathe their scabiors.
Although he had his weapon in hand, Lucien wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. There’d be no pushing the creature back into another dimension, because it belonged in this one.
When the Nosferatu regained its balance, it grabbed for Lucien again. Instinct kicked in, and Lucien used the bottom, steel part of the scabior and quickly skewered the Nosferatu’s right eye. Lightning fast, as if on the same brain frequency, Ronan jumped into the fray and jabbed the steel rod of his scabior into the creature’s left eye.
The figure wailed and screeched, clawing at its own face. Lucien knew the Nosferatu would heal itself soon enough, and its eyes would be as good as new or better than before they’d been destroyed.
Although pus ran from its eye sockets, Lucien and Ronan witnessed the regeneration process firsthand. The Nosferatu’s eyes grew larger. Empty sockets at first; then new orbs appeared, black pupils. As suspected, the creature was regaining its sight.
Not knowing what else to do, Lucien prepared to attack the eyes again, once it got a bead on him. He held his breath, waiting.
Suddenly, the Nosferatu jerked backward as if bashed with a two-by-four from behind. It fell on its side onto the ground, and Lucien saw a long, ornate silver dagger jammed into its back and extending out of its chest, right through the heart.
Shocked, Lucien looked about in the darkness and spotted Pierre, Evee’s head Nosferatu. He stood beside his felled creature, brushed his hands together and shook his head.
“Such a waste,” Pierre said. “He should have followed orders and stayed with the group in the catacombs.”
As Pierre spoke, Lucien heard the voices of people gathering at the intersection of Barracks and Bourbon. The sound of sirens wailed in the distance, and in a flash, Pierre disappeared into the night, leaving Lucien and Ronan to face the crowd, the dead woman, the dead Nosferatu who, in death, had reverted to human form, and the police, whose sirens Lucien heard in the distance.
Lucien felt like a mouse stuck in a trap. He heard chatter coming from the crowd, each telling a different story, yet carrying the same theme. Lucien and Ronan were going to be fingered as murderers.
How the hell was he supposed to explain this to the police? And where was Evee? She’d specifically said to whistle for her and she’d come. Pierre had shown up instead. And although Lucien was grateful that he’d arrived in time to save them from the Nosferatu, it infuriated him that they’d been left alone to face the consequences of something and the someones they’d been sent here to protect.
Chapter 5
After showering, Evee threw on a pair of jeans, a maroon scoop-neck sweater and work boots. The entire time she’d stood under the water, Lucien had been on her mind. Although she really didn’t want him to leave when he did, Lucien had been strong enough to stop things before they’d gotten out of hand. He would probably have blamed himself for taking advantage of her under duress—and he wouldn’t have been that far off the mark. She’d been so petrified, had felt so vulnerable that more than anything she’d needed to feel strength and a sense of someone being in control. Lucien provided both in spades.
Knowing that didn’t keep Evee’s body from shivering as she went to her closet for a light jacket. The cold didn’t cause her shivering. The need for Lucien did.
A short, loud screech had Evee spinning about on the balls of her feet and her heart racing up to her throat.
It was Hoot, her familiar, who stood perched at the foot of her bed frame.
Evee slapped a hand to her chest. “Don’t do that!” she said. “You scared the hell out of me.”
The horned owl’s large eyes blinked slowly. “Good,” he said.
Evee scowled at him. “What do you mean good?”
“At least I have your attention now.”
“What the hell is your problem?” Evee asked, slipping on her jacket.
“Problem? I’m not the one with the problem, Evette François. You are.” He blinked, turned his head around at a ninety-degree angle, then whipped it back in her direction.
“I’m fine,” Evee said. “So how about you mind your own business for once?”
“That’s not my job, and you know it.”
Evee sighed and glared at Hoot. “Then spit it out. I’ve got things to tend to.”
“Spit it out? Have you no brains left in your head?” Hoot asked. “You damn near get killed by one of those hideous monster things, jump into the river when you can’t swim for shit, then not only lead but encourage that Bender guy to put his hands on your privates.”
“I don’t need you riding my ass about any of it right now.” The last thing Evee wanted or needed was Hoot giving her some type of moral-code lesson when all she wanted to think about was Lucien. The musky, wet smell of him. How his hands had felt on her body. How even through her wet clothes she’d felt their heat burst into a furnace so hot it would have melted an eighteen-wheeler loaded with rebar.
“As your familiar, I’m allowed to ride whatever the hell I want to protect you,” Hoot declared. “You had no business being with him in that intimate way.”
“How do you know there was any intimate anything?” Evee asked. “You disappeared. If you were so against me being with him, why didn’t you do what you always do—stick your beak in where it doesn’t belong?”
The owl let out a short, angry screech. “Unlike you, I’ve been out searching for the Nosferatu.”
Evee put a hand on her hip. “And what do you think I’ve been doing? Playing solitaire all this time? I’ve been looking for them, too.”
“You weren’t while you were playing touchy, feely with that Bender.”
“How can you make that claim when you weren’t even here?” Evee asked.
“Oh, I was here,” Hoot said, whipping his head about as if checking for intruders behind him.
He turned back to her. “Here just in time to see the games you two were playing.”
“Oh, shut up,” Evee said. “Nothing happened.”
“From the groaning and moaning you were doing, that sure was some kind of nothing.” Hoot chirped.
“Enough,” Evee warned.
“What’re you going to do, tape my beak shut?” Hoot asked. “Look here, missy. You’ve got a lot on your plate right now. You may be paired with him, which is a ridiculous idea in my opinion, but that doesn’t give you the right to act like a harlot.”
“Stop,” Evee warned again. “Or I’ll not only tape your beak but clip your wings.”
Hoot squawked. “Liar, liar, pants on fire.”
“What good are you as a familiar if all you’re going to do is chew me out for every little thing I do?” Evee said.
“My job is to help you see straight in case you go crosswise, and you, Ms. François, have gone crosswise big time.”
“What part of ‘enough’ don’t you understand?” Evee said, heading for the foyer.
“The part where I tell you humans are dying,” Hoot said, and blinked twice. “And one of your Nosferatu.”
Evee froze in place, and her body temperature suddenly felt like it had dropped twenty degrees. She turned slowly to face Hoot, who was now roosting on the stairs’ newel post.
“What humans? Where? Which Nosferatu?” Evee asked, her questions coming out rapid-fire.
Hoot fluttered his wings as if ready to take flight, then settled back into place. “Two humans in Chalmette. One in the Quarter.”
Evee felt her mouth drop open. She snapped it shut and swiped a hand over her face. “Chalmette? You mean the Nosferatu have gone beyond the city proper?” She leaned against the front door for support.
The bird gave her an affirmative squawk. “Not only that, it seems like some of the missing Loups, Nosferatu and Chenilles are attempting to form their own feeding pattern.”
Evee held her breath as he continued.
“Some of the Nosferatu, in human form, of course, lured a couple out to one of the abandoned areas in the ninth ward. Sucked them dry, then left. The Loup must have been hiding in wait. As soon as the Nosferatu left, two Loups ran in and devoured the corpses, leaving nothing but bone, which, of course, the Chenille finished off. Every drop of marrow.”
“You’re sure about this?” Evee asked.
Hoot blinked twice. “Witnessed it myself.”
“Any other witnesses?”
“For the woman in the Quarter, yes. Chalmette, no. Sooner or later somebody is going to find those bodies back there, though. Police are going to get involved. There won’t be much of the bodies left to identify, but still...”
Evee felt tears suddenly burn against her eyelids. The Triad’s problems had just multiplied a hundredfold. If the Originals had trekked all the way to Chalmette, they could, for all intents and purposes, travel into another state. That wasn’t something she and her sisters had considered. The Originals had been cared for and fed for years in the same way, the same place. Dealing with that, the Triad used logic and assumed they’d remain close.
So much for logic.
“What about the Nosferatu?” Evee asked.
“Which one?”
Evee let out an exasperated sigh. “The one you said was dead, damn it.”
“Don’t be snapping at me,” Hoot warned. “I’m just the messenger. The Nosferatu was Chank. You know, the redhead when he’s in human form. He lured a drunk woman into an alley in the Quarter. Two of those Benders and Pierre stopped it, but not before the kill. The drunk woman didn’t stand a chance. And if those Benders keep sticking their noses where they don’t belong, they’ll wind up sucked dry and chewed through to their fingernails. Lucky for them, Pierre came around and rescued them. Had to run a silver dagger through Chank. From the looks of things, no other way to stop him.”
“Which Benders were involved?” Evee asked, worry suddenly flooding over her. She thought of Lucien.
“What does it matter which? They’re all nosy busybodies who have no business here.”
“Which ones?” She all but yelled the question this time.
Hoot screeched loudly. “How the hell do I know? The one with the short black hair. The quiet one. And the one you were playing house with earlier.”
Ronan, Lucien, Evee thought, grateful they were safe, but still feeling like she needed to throw up.
She felt her brow knit and glared at her familiar. “If you knew...saw all this going on, why didn’t you summon me?”
Hoot screeched loudly. “Summon you? I tried when I saw what was happening in Chalmette! But you were obviously too busy playing hussy with one of the Benders to hear me. That’s why I had to come back here, hoping to find you!”
Evee rubbed her forehead, left the foyer and went into the kitchen. Feeling lost, she shrugged off her jacket and tossed it over a kitchen chair. She grabbed the kettle from the stove and without thinking brought it over to the sink and filled it with water. She placed the kettle on the counter, not bothering to bring it back to the stove for heating. Instead, she sat at the kitchen table and placed her hands over her face. Shook her head. Her world had become an impossible place in which to function, to live, to think.
“Evette, you have to listen to me,” Hoot said.
Evee lowered her hands and looked up. Saw her familiar perched on top of the kitchen chair opposite her.
“I think I’ve heard enough from you for one day,” Evee said, forcing back tears, fury and uncertainty.
“Too bad,” Hoot said. “You’re going to listen.”
“I don’t have to listen to shit. You’re not my boss or my father.” Evee scowled.
“No, but I am your familiar. Same thing. And you’re going to listen.” Not waiting for Evee to respond, Hoot hurried through his words. “You’re heading off a cliff with that Bender. And it has little to do with sex and you know it. What you have to guard is your heart. You have Nosferatu missing, others killed, and the rest locked in the catacombs. You keep hunting for your missing Nosferatu, just like your sisters are looking for their Originals, and none of you are being successful at it. I don’t know why you can’t hone in on your brood like you usually do.”
Evee swiped a strand of hair out of her eyes. “You think I don’t know that? I feel like I’ve been running in circles and don’t know how to straighten any of this out. And for your information, you horny-eared copperhead, don’t you think if I could hone in on my brood I’d have done it days ago?”
“Okay, given, but you have to admit, this has gotten way out of hand. Much bigger than anyone suspected.” The bird blinked and bobbed his head. “You’re going to have to devise some other system to feed your brood.”
“Another system?” Evee looked at her familiar with incredulity. “It took years to set up the one we have now.”
“Maybe so, but how are you going to get the Nosferatu out of the catacombs and safely to the North Compound with so much going awry? They’ll be out in the open. Have you forgotten about the Cartesians? And now humans are being killed. Police are going to get involved soon. You and your sisters could be found out.”
“No shit.”
“Just saying.”
“So what’s the answer?” Evee asked, feeling her cheeks heat with anger. “You’re sitting on top of that chair spouting all that verbiage like you’re high and mighty. Do you have an answer for these problems?”
Hoot turned his head until he nearly faced backward, then turned back to Evee and blinked without saying a word.
“I didn’t think so.” Evee scowled. “Don’t you think that if I knew how to stop all this crap, how to get my Nosferatu back and turn things back to normal, I wouldn’t have done it by now? And as far as the Benders are concerned, forget it. We’ve got to worry about humans now. Dead humans.”
“Have you considered that what you’re doing with that Bender might have something to do with what’s happening?” Hoot asked.
“I didn’t do anything with the Bender,” Evee said, knowing she was bordering on a technicality. “Look, give me time to think, will you? Go. Leave me.”
Hoot squawked, and without another word, left his perch on the kitchen chair and flew out of the room.
Evee dropped her head back into her hands. She felt guilty about having been here, in this house with Lucien, experiencing his touch, her explosive orgasm. All the while humans died by the Originals, and one of her Nosferatu had to be taken down.
Wearily, she got out of her chair and was about to head to the bathroom to wash her face when the back kitchen door opened with a bang.
Elvis, Gilly’s ferret familiar, scurried into the house followed by Socrates, Viv’s Bombay cat and familiar. Both ran around the kitchen table, claws clicking on the wooden floor. As they skittered to a stop near Evee, Hoot evidently decided to join the party because he swooped into the kitchen from wherever he’d been roosting moments earlier. He settled onto the kitchen counter and eyed the other two familiars. Within seconds, Hoot started shrieking and squawking at the top of his lungs. Elvis responded with loud chitters and chirps, and Socrates began to caterwaul so loudly it hurt Evee’s ears.
No sooner had Evee put her hands over her ears than Gilly and Viv hurried into the house behind their familiars. Viv closed the door behind them, and both turned to Evee wide-eyed.
Evee felt her heart skip a beat, fearing by the look on her sisters’ faces that something more had come to torture them.
Dropping her hands from her ears, Evee yelled over the brash symphony of animals, “What’s wrong?”
“What?” Gilly shouted, obviously having a difficult time hearing over the noise.
“What’s wrong?” Evee asked again over the cacophony of animal noises.
Gilly looked over at Viv questioningly.
Frustrated, Evee held both hands out, glared at the familiars and shouted, “Y’all shut the hell up now!”
Elvis gave one last titter, Hoot a short squawk, and Socrates let out one innocent meow.
When all was quiet, Evee asked once more, “What’s wrong?” She swiped a strand of wet hair out of her face. She hadn’t had time to dry it after her shower.
“You haven’t heard?” Viv asked.
Evee frowned.
“About the humans,” Gilly said, then stomped a foot. “The dead ones, Evee.”
“Yeah,” Evee said, looking away. “Hoot filled me in a few minutes ago. He saw the whole thing.”
Viv did a double take. “What? He saw it? What about Pierre and Chank?”
Evee nodded. “That, too.”
“You mean your familiar saw all this going on and didn’t summon you?” Gilly asked, putting a hand on her hip.
“He claims he tried, but I didn’t hear him, didn’t feel him,” Evee said. “I didn’t know about the humans or Chank until Hoot came here to tell me.”
Gilly eyed her. “How can you not pick up an emergency summons from your familiar? What were you doing while all that was going on? And why is your hair wet?”
“Shower,” Evee said, feeling her cheeks flush. “Didn’t have time to dry it.” Before her sisters pummeled her with more questions, she shot out her own. “Why are the two of you here?” Aren’t you supposed to be looking for Chenilles and Loup Garous?”
“We were,” Gilly snapped. “Found out about the humans and Chank and have been racing around like fools trying to find you. Wanted to make sure that you knew and that you were okay. Is that a crime?”
“I didn’t say it was,” Evee said. “Why are you being so bitchy?”
Gilly held her arms out. “This isn’t bitchy. It’s pissed. We’ve been out there busting our humps and you’ve been here taking a shower.”
Evee turned away from her sisters and went to the counter, picked up the kettle she’d filled with water earlier and headed for the stove. She didn’t want to explain to them that she’d needed a shower after the whole Cartesian and river ordeal. She feared if she did, she’d spill the beans about Lucien, as well. As upset as they appeared now, even dropping a hint about her sexual encounter with Lucien, albeit one-sided, would have thrown both of her sisters into cardiac arrest.
“Well?” Viv said. “Explanation please.” She pursed her lips.
Ignoring her, Evee put the kettle on the stove and turned on the burner. She really didn’t want tea, but at least this gave her something to do.
“Evee, you know the death of the humans and the witnessing of the Nosferatu takes our situation to a whole new level,” Viv said. “The police will get involved, which is going to make this catastrophic. This situation is bigger than I think even the Benders realize. We need to figure out some kind of workable game plan. All we’ve been doing is chasing our tails, looking for Nosferatu, Chenilles and Loups.”
Gilly nodded. “Agreed. Dead humans. We’re way over our heads...wait a sec. What’s up with that?” Gilly walked over to Evee and touched her right shoulder, just near the edge of her scoop-necked sweater, and tugged it down an inch.
“What?” Evee asked. She felt Gilly pull the back of her shirt lower.
“What the hell?” Viv said, and hurried over to Gilly’s side.
Evee tried looking over her right shoulder to see what her sisters were gawking at. She couldn’t see anything. “What? What, damn it?”
“Your absolutus infinitus,” Viv said quietly.
All Triads since the 1500s were born with a black absolutus infinitus birthmark on a certain part of their body. Evee’s was on her right shoulder, Gilly’s on her right ankle, and Viv’s on her right hip. The mark was part of the curse carried by all Triads.
“What about it?” Evee asked, still trying to look over her shoulder.
“It...it’s gray,” Gilly said, her voice soft with astonishment.
“Get the hell out,” Evee said, and took off to look in the foyer mirror.
When she reached the mirror, she turned sideways, reached back and tugged on her shirt. Her sisters stood beside her, silent. Frustrated, Evee yanked her sweater up and over her head, not caring that she stood only in her bra and jeans. She turned sideways again, and felt her mouth drop open. She saw it, plain as the nose on her face. Her once charcoal-black absolutus infinitus had faded to an ashen gray.
“What happened to it?” Viv asked.
“I don’t know,” Evee said, still staring at her shoulder in the mirror. “I never felt anything, never noticed any change to it until you mentioned a minute ago.” She turned to Gilly. “What does it mean? The color change?”
Gilly glanced over at Viv and they both shrugged.
“It’s gray, like the mirrors in our Grimoires,” Gilly said. “Maybe they’re tied together somehow.”
The Grimoires were books of spells that had been handed down from one Triad generation to another. As part of their punishment, the first set of Triad had been forced to write every spell known to the Circle of Sisters and the Triad, along with the purpose of each spell, and the consequence of each spell once cast. The spells had been written on parchment paper and bound in elderwood. Inside the front cover of each Grimoire, a notch had been cut out of the elderwood, just big enough to hold a fist-size mirror. The mirror had been purposely set into each Grimoire so that whenever a Triad opened her book, the first thing she saw was the reflection of an apocalyptic destruction of the world. A reminder of what would happen should a Triad shirk her responsibilities and duties of the Originals assigned to her. It showed blood and gore, and the world as a wasteland. Viv, Gilly and Evee read their Grimoires daily, right before a feeding, noting new spells that might be needed should something go awry with their Originals.