14. Fourteen
FOURTEEN
It made sense. When I broke it down, the Axeman being a ghost and possessing people made more sense than one paranormal coming back to the city multiple times over the course of a century. The problem was, I didn’t know much about ghosts.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. I knew more than some random guy on the street, but ghosts weren’t my strong suit. Because I was half-vampire I didn’t fear them. They could not get inside my head and possess me. Or maybe I just hoped that.
My witch half was in more danger than my vampire half, but even that was an iffy proposition for a ghost. If you had a strong sense of self, you couldn’t be taken over. I was safe no matter what. Still, I had questions.
“Marie Laveau?” Lex guessed when we were back in his truck.
I nodded, then caught myself. “You don’t have to go. I know you don’t like ghosts.”
“I don’t,” he agreed, “but she’s not so bad. I thought she was a random woman buried at the cemetery for years before I realized what she was.”
“Why were you spending so much time in the cemetery?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I have family in St. Louis Cemetery No. 1. Not my grandparents. You’ve met them and know they’re still around.”
I scowled at the mention of Lex’s grandmother.
I’d met the one on his mother’s side, and she was a real piece of work.
She was racist, homophobic, and hated all vampires.
Come to think of it, she didn’t like witches either.
She really only liked gator shifters. She’d once called me …
let’s just say some not very nice names …
and had pitched an absolute fit when I’d threatened to bite her in return.
I hadn’t seen her since, and that had been years ago.
“Yes, I remember your grandmother,” I said darkly.
Lex snickered. “She still asks about you. I think she’s afraid I’m going to marry you or something.”
“Why would she care?” That was the part I couldn’t wrap my head around.
“You have a buttload of brothers to carry on the family name with little gators. Also, I have a question about that.” I turned to face him.
“I once heard your mother talk about you shedding your scales six weeks after you were born. Are gator shifters born with scales?”
It was something I didn’t want to picture yet couldn’t stop myself.
“Not usually,” he replied. “Some are.”
“Are they green?”
He smirked at my discomfort. I usually didn’t get worked up by these sorts of things. “They’re flesh-colored. They’re very faint.” He puffed himself out. “Those of us born with scales are destined to be stronger than the others in our congregation. It’s a sign of greatness.”
“Is that true, or did your mother just tell you that to make you feel better because everyone was making fun of you?”
He deflated a bit. “I’m going to the cemetery with you. I don’t care what fight you decide to pick.”
I wasn’t picking a fight. Well, mostly. I didn’t think he needed to come with me. “Marie isn’t a danger. She’s just … sad.”
“I think she’s living her best life. Er, her best death?” He cocked his head and considered it before straightening. “It doesn’t matter. She’s fine. She’s not what I’m worried about.”
“What are you worried about?”
“You know.”
“The Axeman isn’t going to attack me in the middle of the day in a cemetery.”
“You don’t know that.” He was matter-of-fact. “If this individual, possessed or not, deems you a threat, you could be a target no matter the time of day.”
“Why would I be considered a target?”
He made a face. “You know why.”
“I don’t actually.”
“You do.” He was firm. “You’re known for sticking your nose into people’s business.”
“I don’t like when you say that,” I complained.
He shrugged. “I call it like I see it. I’m going with you.”
Because my only choices involved a huge fight and running away from him like a scared kid, I sighed. “Fine. Don’t be weird with Marie. She doesn’t like when you flirt with her.”
“She loves it when I flirt with her.”
He might have been right about that. “Let’s just get it over with. She’s the most knowledgeable ghost I know, thanks to her background. She has a practical approach to most things.”
“She follows the tour guides around and corrects them when they get to her tomb. That doesn’t strike me as practical.”
I shrugged. “She wants to make sure the story is right.”
“Have you seen her since the whole Heloise thing went down?”
I shook my head. I’d wanted to visit her but hadn’t known what to say. Heloise had been her sister, but no one revered Heloise as they did Marie. It had created bitterness and cast Heloise over the edge of evil.
It was hard to imagine sisters taking such divergent paths.
If Holly hadn’t disappeared, who would she have grown into?
That question plagued me most. Would we have been as close as adults as I wanted us to be as kids?
As the youngest, I’d always been in awe of her.
Would that have changed once we were both adults?
Just thinking about it made me feel ill. “Let’s go,” I said. “I want to get this over with. If she can’t help, my next stop is going to be worse.”
He gave me a curious look. “What’s your next stop?”
“Mom. And Dad. Mostly Mom for this one.”
Lex burst out laughing. “I hadn’t gotten that far. They would make good sources on possessing ghosts.”
“I haven’t talked to them much the past few weeks.”
“Don’t you think it’s time?”
“See, you think they’re fun and eccentric. You don’t have to deal with them on a regular basis.”
“They’re hilarious,” Lex argued. “They’re so over the top I wish they’d start participating in community theater.”
A shudder rolled through me. “Why did you have to put that idea in my head?”
He shrugged. “It sounds fun.”
YEARS AGO YOU COULD WANDER AROUND the cemeteries without supervision.
Thanks to jerks — both locals and tourists — painting graffiti on the tombs, that was no longer allowed.
Thankfully, I knew most of the tour guides.
They didn’t make me pay to go with them.
During the day, however, I did have to look as if I were part of one of the tour groups.
Lex and I laughed outside the gate, entertaining ourselves with stories of his grandmother being a racist turd. It wasn’t funny and yet we laughed all the same. Anyone listening would have thought we were loons.
Sherry Devlin was leading today’s tour. She was a transplant from the Northeast — Maine, I think she told me once — but she’d fallen in love with the city during a visit and had moved here seven years ago. She embraced all things New Orleans and got a thrill giving the cemetery tours.
It wasn’t a full-time job, of course. They weren’t paid enough.
She used it as supplementary income for when she wasn’t waiting tables at the Bombay Club.
She waved when she saw us and pretended to check our tickets.
She knew we would take off on our own the second we saw an opening.
She took the opportunity to flirt with Lex.
“I haven’t seen you around lately,” she said, looking him up and down. She’d seen him a hundred times and always liked what she saw. “We should hang out one night. Hit up one of the bars or something.”
Lex oozed charm. He was never caught off guard when it came to a proposition. “Absolutely.” He bobbed his head. “Freya and I are working on a case right now, but hopefully we’ll wrap it up in the next few days. I’ll be back at the regular haunts then.”
I cast him a sidelong look but didn’t ask the obvious question until we’d managed to make our escape from the tour group. “What are the regular haunts?”
“Hmm?” He dragged his eyes to me in lazy fashion. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”
“Don’t.” I poked my finger into his chest. We were almost to Marie’s tomb. I didn’t see her yet, but she invariably showed up on tour days, so I was hopeful. I had no idea where she went when she wasn’t haunting the cemetery. “Where are the regular haunts?”
Lex sighed. “Occasionally, I hit up a few of the more touristy bars. Sherry does, too.”
“Because you want to hit on tourists?”
He shrugged. “If I say yes, are you going to judge me?”
“Of course.”
“Then yes.” His grin was sly. “You know I get bored easily. Sometimes hooking up with a tourist is the easiest way to get things done. If I hit the Bourbon Street bars, I only need to walk a block or two to the hotels. Easy in and easy out.” He winked at me. “Pun intended.”
“You are gross,” I complained. “Why are you so gross?”
“Maybe you’re a prude. Have you ever considered that?”
“I am not a prude.”
“You kind of are.”
“Stop it.” I shoved him. “I’m the daughter of a mighty vampire and a powerful witch. I can’t be a prude for that reason alone.”
Lex snorted. “Your parents are kind of like Gomez and Morticia Addams. They go in for the heavy public petting and stuff.”
“That’s all for show,” I muttered.
“You can’t tell me they’re not getting it on constantly. They look at each other in a specific way.”
“And your parents don’t?” I challenged. “You have five brothers, all within eight years of one another. Your parents were mating like rabbits.”
“My parents aren’t as demonstrative with affection as your parents. They love each other and I would never say otherwise. Your parents aren’t afraid to mount each other in public, and that’s different.”
That created a hostile image in my head. “Stop.”
“I’m just saying, with your parents, you shouldn’t be such a prude.” He paused. “Maybe you’ll stop being such a prude when you and Cullen finally get it on.”
“Stop saying things like that,” I complained, giving him a shove. It just so happened that Marie had decided to make her presence known at that moment, and I shoved Lex through her.
Marie blinked in surprise, and Lex gurgled as he hit the ground behind her. His eyes threatened to roll back in his head before he caught himself.
“What the hell?” he bellowed.
Marie looked shaken. “Well, that was … I’m not even sure what to call it.”