Jeaniene Frost - Up From the Grave

If I had anything to say about it, Katie would never know that feeling. But first, I had to make sure no one killed her, either before or after I had a chance to officially meet her.

That was why Bones and I didn’t go to Detroit, despite my longing to rush straight there to find my child. Instead, after a few hours’ sleep so we’d be at our fighting best, we went south.

A tropical storm churned up the waters in Lake Pontchartrain, tossing around the boat we’d stolen as if it were a toy in a bathtub. That wasn’t what had my stomach clenching in nervousness, though. Compared to what I was about to do, having the boat capsize would be a fun.

In the distance, the coastline we aimed for wasn’t lit up as much as usual. The storm had knocked the power out in several places, but loss of electricity was never the biggest concern for New Orleans. It was the levees. The Crescent City was getting a direct hit, though luckily, with a tropical storm instead of a hurricane strong enough to breach the levees.

I didn’t know if the bad weather would help us or hurt my mission, but when Bones said, “Now, Kitten,” I jumped off the boat without hesitation. The weights I’d strapped on kept me well below the surface, yet as intended, they weren’t enough to send me to the bottom. The storm had made the water murky, though. Even with the mask keeping saltwater out of my eyes, my vision was limited to only a dozen feet in front of me, disorienting me.

I pressed a button on the specialized dive watch around my wrist. The green light it emitted matched the glow from my gaze as it showed a digital map. Then I gave a few experimental kicks with my new diving fins, pleased with how smoothly they propelled me through the water. I wanted all the help I could get to conserve my energy.

A few hours later, I crawled up the seawall that bordered the Mississippi River, stripping off my mask, full-body wet suit, and fins once I was back on land. Beneath that, I wore leggings and a long-sleeved top, both black like my dive shoes and dyed hair.

It might not be the ideal outfit for a steamy night in New Orleans, but my skin would announce me as a vampire to those who knew what to look for, and I didn’t want anyone to know I was paying a visit to the city’s most famous resident tonight. Marie had spies at every airport, train station, boat dock, and highway into New Orleans, but not even the voodoo and ghoul queen could have every square foot of the river watched, let alone the canals that led from Lake Pontchartrain to the mighty Mississippi. That’s why I’d swum beneath the concealment of the waves, and why I now walked with what felt like agonizing slowness across the highway and up Fourth Street, heading toward the Garden District.

I didn’t need the map on my watch anymore. I’d visited the Garden District on my first trip here years ago with Bones. Like many others, I’d marveled at the beautiful, stately houses, some built before the Civil War. Prytania Street had been one of my favorites, and the two-story beige-and-pink house bordered by a gate with honeysuckle blooms peeking through the iron bars was one I remembered well.

Don had remembered it, too. It only took one glance at the online photo collage for him to say “That one,” while pointing a transparent finger at the screen. He’d been drawn to Marie’s home when he was hopping ley lines looking for me back when I had her grave power. For that reason, most ghosts probably knew where Marie lived. Other vampires and ghouls did, too, but only someone with a death wish would drop by unannounced.

That’s why Marie didn’t have guards posted. Her house also happened to be one of the few in the city that didn’t have ghosts loitering around it. Don told me that it felt “shielded,” meaning Marie had it stocked with burning sage, weed, and garlic. Even the voodoo queen must want a break from the supernatural once in a while.

Tonight, she wasn’t getting it. I hopped over the gate surrounding her property and strode up to the front door. Instead of knocking, I leveled it with one kick. That should get her attention, but in the unlikely event that it didn’t . . .

“Marie,” I called out in a loud voice. “We need to talk.”

Of course, my dramatic entrance would be wasted if she wasn’t home.

“Is that you, Reaper?” a familiar voice drawled, dispelling that concern. “And if so, have you lost your mind?”

Marie appeared at the top of the staircase on the second floor, wearing a white silk robe over a long ecru nightgown of the same material. Either she was calling it an early night or she’d been entertaining in a personal way. I didn’t care which I’d interrupted.

“Never been thinking clearer,” I responded shortly, “and I’m sure you know why I’m here.”

Marie smiled in that gracious way Southern women had perfected, but I didn’t let her pleasant expression fool me. She wasn’t a steel magnolia. She was an attack tank covered by a veil of roses.

“If you leave now, Reaper, I’ll consider not killing you.”

Of course, she didn’t look the slightest bit afraid over my breaking into her home. I was alone and weaponless, as my form-fitting outfit revealed, and she could summon enough Remnants to reduce me to a carpet stain within minutes. Even if Bones had come with me, it might not balance the odds. He might have mastered his telekinesis enough to control humans and machines, but successfully using it against one of the most powerful ghouls in existence? Doubtful.

I could do even less with the telekinetic abilities I’d absorbed from him. My ability to briefly move small, inanimate objects was worthless against an opponent like Marie—unless her most deadly weapon hinged on something tiny.

I concentrated on her ring with the same fear-driven desperation that had led me to crash the ghoul queen’s house. It flew off her finger, banging down the stairs in its rapid path toward me.

Marie let out a gasp and chased it. I lunged, landing on her back before she got halfway down the staircase. Then I twisted until I wasn’t facing her feet any longer. That gave her the chance to land a backward punch that felt like it rattled my brains loose. Instead of defending myself against her next blow, I wrapped one arm around her neck and shoved the other into her open mouth.

She chomped down hard enough to crush bone, yet I kept it wedged between her teeth with grim determination. Better she bloody my flesh than hers. Then I whipped my head down and sank my fangs into her neck, sucking her blood for everything I was worth.

Marie began bucking as though she’d morphed into a prizewinning bronco. I held on, sealing my mouth over the punctures and swallowing her earthy-tasting blood as fast as I could. Her struggles became more frenzied, and instead of trying to throw me off, she smashed us into the wall. We went through, and while I succeeded in keeping my mouth clamped onto her neck, she raked her arm across the ragged side of an exposed beam before I could stop her.

The small cut it made was enough.

As soon as her blood was exposed, an ear-splitting howl sounded, originating from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Then pain crashed into me with agonizing waves. For a few moments, I couldn’t think past the anguish as dozens of Remnants tore into me with the ferocity of sharks during a feeding frenzy. Marie took advantage, shoving me back and dislodging my hold on her neck.

Then I remembered how to make it stop. Marie must’ve realized my intention. She grabbed me, trying to shove her hands into my mouth as I had done to her. My need to escape the pain made me stronger, though, and I wrenched my head away.

“Back off,” I rasped, ripping my fangs into my wrist.

Blood dripped in a scarlet trail down my arm, but the Remnants continued to tear into me. Marie seized her chance, wedging her arm between my teeth to keep me from drawing more blood. I tore at it with the same viciousness she’d shown me, but all she did was drag us out of the hole she’d made in the wall. Once back on the staircase, she shoved me onto the steps, leaping on my back to hold me there. With her strength and the Remnants’ assault, I couldn’t free myself.