Jeaniene Frost - Up From the Grave

“The very same,” I said, weary all of a sudden.

Tyler clapped his hands with the pure joy of a child. “This is going to be so fun!”

Now suspicion replaced my weariness. “What is?”

He ignored me, scooping up Dexter and grunting at the dog’s weight. “Don’t worry, baby, Daddy’s not leaving you behind.”

“Neither one of you are going anywhere,” Bones said flatly.

Tyler looked at him as though he were the one who’d just lost his mind.

“Boyfriend, let me spell it out for you. You owe me huge, and I’m cashing in. You have any idea what a big deal Marie is in the medium world? It’s like finding out Santa Claus is real and getting a first-class ticket to his workshop!”

I tried logic even though I doubted it would work. “You don’t understand, Tyler. She’s dangerous.”

An eyeroll. “I didn’t expect her to have spent the past hundred years knitting.”

Actually, Marie did knit. She also could summon spectres called Remnants that cut through the living and undead with laughable ease, plus work enough black magic to blow up a city. And then there was her power over ghosts.

Yeah, Marie was scary, all right. If I hadn’t fought and bled beside Tate and the others for years, I would reconsider asking Marie for help. If she agreed, she wouldn’t want to be compensated by money. No, she’d want something far more valuable.

I met Bones’s gaze. The look in his dark brown eyes said he expected this to be every bit as dangerous as I did, yet there was no lessening of resolve on his lean, hard features.

“They’re my people, raised by my blood or sworn to it, and no Master leaves his people behind when there’s a chance to save them.”

I wasn’t Master of a line, but I agreed with every word. No real friend would leave their friends behind to die, either.

“Looks like we’re going to New Orleans,” I said softly.

Tyler let out an exasperated noise. “Can we quit talking about it and do it already?”

The lights of New Orleans glittered like crystals against the dark waters surrounding the long bridge that led us into the city. Finally, we were here. It had been almost a day drive considering that we had to swing by our Blue Ridge home to pick up my cat. We couldn’t fly into New Orleans because of the garlic-and-marijuana satchels we packed in case Marie sicced her spectral spies on us. As for renting an RV instead of taking our car, well, this wasn’t the first time I’d gone on a road trip with Dexter. The dog’s farts could be considered chemical warfare, and the extra space gave me somewhere to run.

We’d just turned into the French Quarter when Tyler let out a blissful sigh.

“There they are.”

I glanced out the window. Ghosts covered the French Quarter more plentifully than plastic beads during Mardi Gras. They floated through throngs of tourists, hung out on rooftops, in bars, and, of course, drifted through the city’s famous cemeteries. The most remarkable thing about them was how many were sentient. Most ghosts tended to be repeats of a moment in time, unable to think, just endlessly acting out the same incident. Not surprisingly, a lot of those incidents related to their deaths. Death was a momentous event for everyone.

But the ethereal residents of the Crescent City were different. Most of them were as lively as the people who were unaware of their presence. A few were pranksters. The young man who tripped and fell face-first into a pretty girl’s cleavage had no idea he’d been pushed by a ghost who chortled at the slap the chagrined boy received. Farther up the sidewalk, a pair of ghosts amused themselves by tipping revelers’ glasses upward so that expected sips turned into face-soaking splashes.

Tyler laughed when he saw that. “I hope I don’t come back after I die, but if I do, I’m moving here where the party never ends.”

Bones slanted a look at him before returning his attention to the narrow streets. “Wouldn’t recommend that, mate. New Orleans isn’t the most haunted city in the world by chance.”

Tyler shrugged. “So a lot of people get murdered here. I’d avoid the grumpy spooks.”

“That isn’t what he means.”

I whispered the words. We were now deep in Marie’s territory and the Queen of New Orleans had spies everywhere.

“Marie’s power draws ghosts to her, and once they’re caught in it, like insects in a web, most of them aren’t strong enough to leave.”

Instead of taking it as the warning it was intended, Tyler smiled.

“You have got to introduce me to her. It’ll make my life.”

Or your death, I thought cynically, but kept that to myself. Marie was selective over whom she granted an audience. She might not even agree to meet with me and Bones, so I doubted she’d squeeze time into her schedule to chat with an unknown fan.

“Bloody hell.”

The growled words snapped my attention away from Tyler. We were almost at Bones’s town house, yet he was staring down the street with a resigned expression on his face. Was he just now realizing the RV would never fit through the space that led to the parking garage?

Then I saw the tall, wide-framed African-American man standing in front of our town house, staring back at us as though he’d been waiting all night for our arrival.

“Shit,” I breathed.

Bones shot me a glance that said he was in complete agreement though he didn’t speak as he pulled up next to the man and rolled down the window.

“Jacques,” he greeted the large ghoul coolly.

“Bones. Reaper,” he replied, addressing me by my nickname. “You may leave your vehicle with me. Majestic is waiting for you.”

“Ooh, you have a doorman?” Tyler sounded impressed. “I don’t know why you live in that hillbilly hideaway instead of here.”

“He’s not a doorman,” I said, cursing to myself. “He’s Marie’s right-hand man.”

Tyler glanced at the ghoul with more interest. “Really? I thought you hadn’t called her to tell her you were coming?”

“You thought right,” Bones said, getting out of the car. Neither of us bothered to bring our weapons. They were all useless against Marie.

Tyler glanced at Jacques again before meeting my gaze. You’re fucked then, aren’t you? ran across his mind.

My smile was brittle. Marie always granted safe passage to and from a meeting, but once our audience with her was over, all bets were off.

“That remains to be seen.”

Bones handed the RV’s keys to Jacques before giving a different set to Tyler. “Go inside. We’ll be back later.”

If he had any doubts about what would happen after our meeting, they didn’t show in his tone. I squared my shoulders and adopted his confident attitude. So Marie’s spies had found out that we’d crossed into her city. On the bright side, now we wouldn’t have to wait to see if she’d agree to speak to us.

On the negative side, I doubted she’d sent someone to fetch us immediately because she’d missed us, but there was only one way to find out what she wanted. I forced an unconcerned tone as I turned to Tyler.

“Don’t have too much fun while we’re gone.”

He gave a pointed look at the massive ghoul before replying.

“I’ll save that for when you’re back.” Then to Jacques he said, “You’re not driving this thing anywhere until I get my dog and her cat.”

As a rule, cemeteries didn’t bother me. They were filled with dead people, and as I’d known since I started hunting vampires at sixteen, truly dead people couldn’t hurt you. It was the living and the undead you needed to worry about, so it wasn’t walking among the thousands of remains in Saint Louis Cemetery Number One that made a shiver creep up my spine. It was the knowledge of what lay beneath the crypt of the cemetery’s most famous resident.