26. Twenty-Six
TWENTY-SIX
Ididn’t want to wait for answers, but the loas were adamant.
On top of that, they insisted on meeting us at a restaurant because they had something to do first. They told me to plan for an extra four people at dinner.
I had to pick a restaurant on the spot so I went with Napoleon House because it was centrally located in the French Quarter and had an outdoor area we could take over if the conversation got too … twitchy.
Was that the right word? It felt like the right word.
As Knox navigated back to the French Quarter, I texted Lex and Charlie to tell them what was going on. We had an hour before dinner, so I wasn’t surprised when Knox suggested a walk in Jackson Square to clear our heads after we parked.
I fell into step with him for the walk, which was only a few blocks.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked after a few minutes. “You know, just to clear your head before … well, before this turns into whatever it’s going to turn into.”
“I’m not sure what there is to say,” I admitted.
“How about this?” He gave me a serious look. “I will get us some iced teas and we’ll sit in the shade.” He gestured toward a group of benches set away from most of the people. At this time of year, milling about in Jackson Square could be too much for the tourists because of the heat and humidity.
I nodded and tried to smile. “Sure.”
“You can tell me who Marinette is when I get back.”
Marinette. Right. “Okay.” Now I did manage a smile. “I can do that.”
“Awesome.” He shot me a thumbs-up, coming off just as awkward as I had hours before.
That made me laugh. “You’re kind of a goof.”
He shrugged. “So are you.”
I settled in the shade as he suggested. The heat didn’t get to me in the same way it would a tourist, but vampires don’t particularly like the heat.
My parents kept their house air-conditioning ridiculously low, to the point I sometimes shivered.
I didn’t have to do that. Thankfully it looked as if a storm was building, and that would cut down on the heat and humidity.
Storms in New Orleans were often fast and brutal, a quick deluge before rolling right back out.
We needed the relief today, even if it might infringe on our ability to take over the patio at Napoleon House.
Knox was back in five minutes with our iced teas. He sat on the same bench with me, careful not to make contact. I didn’t take it personally, even though I was curious if he wanted to touch me.
Damn those loas!
And Toni.
And Lex.
And Charlie and Jack.
And Miles.
It occurred to me that almost everyone in my life, at least those who made frequent visits of late, seemed to think there was something going on with Knox and me.
Why would they think that? There was absolutely nothing but respect for the jobs we had to do, but even I was starting to doubt my own inner arguments.
There was a spark between us. That didn’t mean it needed to ignite anything.
Again, against my bidding, my mind flew back to the images I’d seen of Knox and me.
It was rare that I received glimpses of the future.
They were part of my witchy half, but my mother hadn’t been particularly strong in that department before she was turned.
I should be even weaker, and yet I’d definitely seen the images.
Supposedly, it wasn’t a matter of if Knox and I would get together, but when.
I didn’t like the idea of my future already being set.
Knox cleared his throat, making me realize I’d been silent for far too long.
“So, Marinette,” I said, knowing what he was after. “She’s the loa of power and violence. Or she was the loa of power and violence. She’s dead.”
“Do you know anything about that?”
I lifted one shoulder as I sipped my iced tea. “Only what I’ve heard through the grapevine. Do you remember when the circus was here last? The paranormal circus that puts everyone on edge when they visit.”
“Mystic Caravan.” Knox nodded. “My mother says their fortune teller is the real deal. She goes for a reading whenever they come to town, which was news to me when she admitted it.”
“That fortune teller is supposedly the new breed of loa.” Most of this information I’d gotten second hand, and I’d been wrong on some points before being set straight recently.
Charlie was tight with the loas, as tight as someone outside their circle could be, and she’d corrected a few misconceptions. She knew more than she was telling.
“What does that mean?” Knox asked.
“It means that, supposedly, she’ll be the one to keep the loas important as the world keeps chugging on,” I replied. “She’s an actual descendant of Baron and Brigitte. Rumor is that they both keep popping in to train her as the circus travels west. I have no idea if that’s true.”
“Doesn’t Charlie know these people? I’ve heard more than one person say she does.”
“She knows a lot of people,” I confirmed. “I’ve been careful not to push her too hard on that. I don’t know her well, and she seems loyal to these people, so … .” I held out my hands.
He nodded in understanding. “You’re just getting familiar with her quirks. I get it. The thing is, there’s no harm in asking. If she doesn’t want to answer, she’ll just say no.”
“That’s fair. Perhaps that will come up tonight.” I took another sip. “As for Marinette, there are a lot of stories about her. She’s often considered the most unstable loa.”
“After how we’ve spent our afternoon, and with who, that’s a frightening thought.” Knox made a face that had me grinning.
“Legends surrounding Marinette include her being the mambo who sacrificed the black pig at the start of the first Haitian Revolution,” I explained. “She’s feared and ridiculously violent. She also was heralded as a hero for delivering her people from bondage.”
“Interesting.” Knox leaned back. “We have a theme of strong women running through this case, between the paintings on the wall of the parlor and now Marinette. And you and Charlie.”
“I don’t always feel strong.”
“You should.” He was firm. “You don’t give yourself enough credit.” He was adamant enough that it bolstered me.
“Thank you.” There was nothing else to say, so I went back to the conversation we should have been focused on. “Marinette is often referred to as the protector of werewolves.” I gave him a once-over. “Which means she would protect you.”
“Werewolves aren’t a thing.”
“Don’t be pedantic.”
“Fine. Continue.”
“I’ve read up on all the loas,” I said. “I was always fascinated by them. When I was a kid, the rumors of the loas running around the city scared other people, but I was excited at the prospect. I went looking for them when I was 15. I just wanted to see one.”
“Did you?”
I smirked. “I found three. Papa, Baron, and Brigitte. They were arguing by Old Absinthe House. I knew them as the real deal and not cosplayers the second I saw them because I could feel the magic radiating off of them.”
“What were they arguing about?”
“They were angry about something Erzulie did. I didn’t know then — I thought they might be plotting against her — but now I know that Erzulie used so much magic that she put herself in a restorative sleep for two decades.”
“Why did she do that?” Knox looked only half interested. I was about to jolt him out of that.
“Because she needed a lot of magic to hide Charlie and keep her from Sybil until she was old enough to protect herself. And, well, save us all, I guess. That was part of the deal, too.”
Knox’s mouth fell open. “Get out!”
“It’s true. The loas intervened to protect Charlie.”
“I didn’t think that was their thing, especially if the person in question wasn’t one of their own.”
“Well, they did for Charlie.” I paused a moment before continuing.
“I think the loas have realized that they will be forgotten if they don’t reinforce the belief system that gave them power in the first place.
That’s why they’re constantly here, making their presence known.
It’s not that they don’t want people to forget, they want them to actively remember now. ”
Knox pursed his lips, considering, then nodded. “Okay. I guess that makes sense. How does this all fit together?”
“I’m not sure. When I was younger, I only saw the big three loas.
I have an idea that they were stronger because they were the most recognizable of their brethren.
Marinette wasn’t unknown, but she wasn’t one of the big dogs.
Maybe she went crazy over the years. In fact, that’s the rumor, that she was downright nutty toward the end, and the loas, who can’t kill one of their own, arranged for a fortune teller from the circus to kill Marinette and inherit her powers. ”
“Thus ensuring they would have a face to follow moving forward,” Knox mused. “It’s kind of diabolical when you think about it.”
“It was smart. If Marinette was capable of wreaking havoc and hurting a bunch of people, they took her out before she could.”
“Why the statue? What does it mean?”
Helplessness clawed through my throat. “I have no idea. That’s the part that’s bugging me.”
Rather than wallow, which I wanted to do, he refused to slump with me. “Tell me more about Marinette. Maybe there’s something in her history that will jog something in your head.”
“Why does it have to be jogged in my head?”
“Because you know more about this stuff, and you’re more powerful,” he replied. “Plus, you’re smarter.”
I was still internally sputtering over his words when he leaned in and added to it, absolutely flabbergasting me.
“You’re more than just a beautiful face,” he said in a husky voice.
I couldn’t breathe. Yes, I still had to breathe despite being part vampire. The oxygen simply refused to fill my lungs. I didn’t realize I was in danger of passing out until he flicked the end of my nose.
“It wasn’t meant to throw you,” he said, smiling. “It’s the truth.” With that, he leaned back, and I managed to suck in a breath.
Was the world conspiring to make me lose my mind?