23. Twenty-Three
TWENTY-THREE
“They give me the creeps,” I complained once I was back in Knox’s truck.
“They’re not so bad.”
His response threw me, and I assumed he was joking. One look in his direction told me I was wrong. “Not so bad? They’re completely out of touch with reality.”
“They’ve been around a very long time,” he said. “The longer you live, the less humanity you have, right?”
“No.” What was he even saying?
“Think about it,” he insisted. “When you’re young, you’re earnest and believe the world is going to be a better place. You believe you can change the world, in fact. As you age, you get more jaded. It’s not a Star Trek world any longer, no matter how badly you want it to be that way.”
A Star Trek world? Was he speaking English? “What does Star Trek have to do with it?”
“In Star Trek, no one is obsessed with accumulating wealth. People work, but for the betterment of others. Society wants to make it better for everyone. You never see a homeless person in Star Trek, do you?”
I had to think about it. “I’m not a big Star Trek fan. I’ve seen some of the movies and the show with the bald captain who is also Professor Xavier.”
“Star Trek: The Next Generation. It’s the best Trek. Well, if you can get past that first season where they were still figuring things out.”
My eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Are you a Trekkie?”
It was impossible to miss the color that flushed his neck. “No.”
“Then why are you trying to get me to see life through a lens of ‘live long and prosper.’”
“Ha!” He jabbed a finger in my direction, acting as if he’d just won the lottery. “You do know Star Trek.”
“I do not.”
“You do so. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have said that.”
“That saying has made it into popular culture.” I would die on this hill. “I am not a Star Trek fan.”
His truck was running to keep us cool with the air conditioning, but he didn’t make a move to pull out. “Admit it.”
“No. Admit you’re a Trekkie.”
“I’m not a Trekkie.” His color was back. “Not even a little. It’s just … my dad loves Star Trek. He used to watch it with his dad, and he watched it with Dalton and me. I am familiar, but that does not make me a Trekkie.”
Lies. He was totally a Trekkie. “Do you walk around trying to give people the Vulcan neck pinch?”
“How do you know what that is if you’re not a Star Trek fan?” he fired back.
“I’ve watched The Big Bang Theory.”
“I don’t believe you.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m just saying that it’s harder to hold onto your humanity as you age. The loas have been around a very long time. They don’t get fussed over the little stuff.”
“This thing — whatever it is — has killed six people in three days. That’s not ‘little stuff’ no matter how you look at it.”
“For us, that’s true. For them … .” He raised his fingers on the steering wheel.
I stared at him.
He stared back.
“I guess I know what to get you for Christmas,” I said. “Are you a Kirk or Spock fan?”
“See, I can’t even take you seriously when you drop Star Trek knowledge and then deny knowing Star Trek.”
“Everyone knows Kirk and Spock!”
Stubbornly, he stared forward. Then, slowly, he dipped his gaze back to me. “Wait … why are you getting me a Christmas gift?”
Now I was one blushing furiously. “We need more information on that symbol, and there’s only one place I know to get it,” I said, desperate to change the topic.
“The statue,” Knox said, magnanimously letting it go.
Thank you, Goddess! I nodded. “It’s supposed to be in Archie Hayes’s private suite. His son claims he’s out of town.”
“So … you want to break in and look at the statue?”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” I couldn’t contain my sly smile. “It sounds fun.”
His expression was immovable, the wheels in his mind clearly spinning. “How will we get in?” he asked.
“We’ll have to play it by ear depending on what staff is on hand, but I don’t think it will be that hard. It’s a huge house, and we can scale the fence.”
“We can?”
I made a face. “Listen, I’m familiar with Lex’s abilities, and he’s a gator shifter. They’re not known for jumping. There’s no way you can’t jump that fence.”
“I’m not worried about my abilities, I’m worried about yours. I don’t know many witches who can jump sixteen-foot-tall fences.”
“It’s more like twelve feet, and I’m not just a witch.”
“At some point, I would like to have a real conversation with you about what you can and can’t do,” he said. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”
It felt as if there was more buried under that statement than just a curiosity about my genetics. “Sure.” I bobbed my head. “If you break into the Hayes house with me.”
His lips curved. “I don’t have anything else going on. Breaking and entering could be fun.”
Before I could respond, the rear doors of Knox’s truck opened on both sides, and Baron and Papa piled into the backseat.
“Sounds like a splendid outing,” Baron announced. “We’re in.”
I turned in my seat and gave him an incredulous look. “I thought you left.”
“We decided to come back,” Baron replied. He had the energy of someone who was perpetually stoned. All he was missing was a bong and patchouli body spray to cover up the stank.
“It occurred to us, when we were heading out, that we didn’t know where to look for information because we haven’t been paying close enough attention to recent events,” Papa volunteered. “We don’t know where to look.”
“So you’re just tagging along with us?” I challenged.
“You appear to know where to look.” Papa held out his hands as if to say, “What are you going to do?” and smiled in a way that showed off his jarringly white teeth.
“We did very much appreciate your conversation on Star Trek,” Baron added. “I prefer the original series — William Shatner is a thespian of the highest order — but it was an interesting take.”
I lifted my chin to ascertain how Knox felt about this situation. He looked as baffled as I did.
“I guess it can’t hurt,” he said after several seconds of silence. “They can probably get us in easily enough.”
“That’s true,” Papa said. “Just point the way, and we will handle the rest.”
I was leery — how could I not be? — but slumped in my seat, resigned.
We were stuck with the loas and we needed information.
Apparently, we were all going to get it together.
“Let’s go.” I punched in the address to the house in Knox’s GPS.
“Don’t park in front of the house. Park down the street. We’ll go from there.”
WHEN WE GOT TO THE HAYES HOUSE I assumed that we would climb the fence. When I explained my plan to the loas, they laughed as if I was a small child who needed to be placated — the only thing missing was the “You’re adorable” head pat — and then opened a magical door through the fence.
We were in the side yard with two steps, and when I looked over my shoulder to see where we’d entered from the fence was back in place. “What did you do?” I asked.
“Basically, I opened a plane door and skipped past the fence,” Baron replied. “It was much more difficult than that — I am a wonder, after all — but that’s about it.”
When I’d set out this morning, going on an adventure to break into a millionaire’s home — two loas and a shifter in tow — was not on my radar. How had I even come to this place?
“Well, that’s great.” I flashed a flat smile. “Let’s find a door.”
“There are several people on the main floor,” Papa replied. His gaze was on the house. “There’s a maid and two gardeners. They all appear to be on the patio.”
“Doing what?” I asked.
Papa shrugged. “Smoking pot, I believe. I’m not an expert.”
Baron snorted. “If you’re not an expert, who is?”
“I’m just saying I wouldn’t put it on my business cards,” Baron said.
I shook my head. It was like babysitting. “We’ll go in through the front door,” I said. “If they’re on the patio, they won’t see us.”
“There’s a clear shot from the patio to the foyer,” Baron replied. “I think up is best.”
“Up?” I was still wrapping my head around that when he grabbed me by the waist and threw — yes, threw! — me at the second-floor balcony.
If I had been a regular human I wouldn’t have been able to land without breaking a leg. It wasn’t that I was athletic, at least not in the sense that Knox and Lex were, but my vampire reflexes made me look graceful when I landed.
I was about to voice my opinion of what Baron had done when Knox landed on the balcony next to me. Then, as if snapping their fingers like twin genies, Baron and Papa appeared out of thin air next to us. I didn’t even have time to complain to Knox about what they’d done.
“This is fun,” Baron enthused. “I can’t remember the last time I broke into a Garden District mansion.”
“Seven years ago,” Papa replied. “You were convinced Wilhelmina Widmore stole your necklace at that Prohibition party a century before and decided to look for it in her old house.”
“Ah, right.” Baron took on a sentimental look. “Wilhelmina. She was such a harlot.”
“I think they say slut now,” Papa offered helpfully.
“Or you could not be misogynistic,” I countered, glaring between them. “Just because a woman happens to like the company of men doesn’t make her less than anyone else.”
Baron sent me a pitying look. “How would you know? When was the last time you were with someone, man or woman?” His eyes flicked to Knox. “Of course, floods might be coming to eradicate your dry spell sooner than you think.”
I refused to think about that, no matter how crass, for a single second. “Can we find the statue?”
“Of course,” Baron replied in perfunctory fashion. “It’s just … have you considered that it’s your prickly demeanor that’s keeping men away? It’s certainly not your looks.”
“Definitely not,” Papa agreed, looking me up and down. “Your looks are fine.”
“Hey!” Knox gave Papa a shove, jolting me out of a daydream that involved throwing both loas off the balcony and watching them bounce. “Stop sexually harassing her.”
Papa didn’t look offended at Knox’s insinuation. “I definitely think there’s a flood coming,” he told Baron.
Baron nodded knowingly. “It will be interesting.”