Chapter Twenty-Six

When I got off the plane at Louis Armstrong International Airport, my friend and fellow Jäger-Sucher Diana Malone Ruelle was waiting. Without so much as a howdy-do, she hustled me past customs. No one even glanced our way. Working for Edward was great.

“What did you find out?”

Diana had never been much for small talk, which was one of the things I’d liked about her from the day she’d stepped into my voodoo shop.

“Nice to see you, too,” I quipped as I followed her to her car.

“Sorry.” She put a hand on my arm and when I stopped, she hugged me. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks.”

I would have liked to say it was good to be back, but I wasn’t all that thrilled. I didn’t want to examine too closely why, but it had something to do with Murphy.

I guess after two weeks in his company I’d gotten used to having him around.

I’d just have to get un-used to it.

Diana straightened, a long trip since she was nearly six feet tall, even in low-heeled shoes. She had the lovely pale skin of a true redhead, and her curly hair tumbled past her shoulders, ending just above her waist. She was curvy, sexy, and just funny enough that I didn’t have to hate her. She was also the second-best friend I’d ever had.

“How’s Lazarus?” I asked.

Diana clicked her key chain and the locks on her SUV thunked open. “How would I know? It’s not as if I visited your python and took him for a slither.”

My lips twitched. Despite her being a cryptozoologist—with a degree in zoology—Diana did not care for snakes. She and Lazarus had never gotten on, hissing at each other whenever they were in the same room. Lazarus might have been j ealous. I’m not sure what Diana’s problem was, beyond her uncharacteristically girlie aversion to snakes.

“Adam and Luc?” I asked, referring to her new husband and his son, who was now hers.

“They’re both hunky-dory, Cassandra.” She started the car with an annoyed flick of her wrist. “Now spill the beans.”

I didn’t blame her for being impatient. The curse of the crescent moon would ruin Diana’s new life if I wasn’t able to stop it.

Her husband was one of a long line of cursed men, starting with his several-times-great-grandfather Henri. Not a demon yet, Adam would be eventually, as well as his adorable eight-year-old son, Luc. No one wanted to see him turn furry one night.

“Cassandra, please,” Diana murmured. “Do you know how to end the curse?”

“I know how to raise the voodoo queen,” I said. “Whether she can end the curse…” I spread my hands.

We just didn’t know.

Diana parked in front of my combination voodoo shop, living quarters, and voodoo temple on Royal Street. The late-afternoon sun blared hot, despite the calendar insisting we’d reached autumn. In New Orleans, autumn could still be scalding.

“Did you find out where the voodoo queen is buried?” I asked.

“That was fascinating.”

Although Edward had hired Adam to be a hunter—he’d been killing the things his grandp ère had made for years—Diana was a Jäger-Sucher more in the searching sense, like me.

“There’s a slave cemetery not far from the Ruelle Mansion,” she continued. “I found her there.”

“Couldn’t have been easy.”

Most slaves had been buried without benefit of a marker, or if there was one it had been made of wood, which didn’t last.

“Easier than a lot of other things lately. Have you ever homeschooled an eight-year-old?”

We were walking down the path that led away from Royal Street toward my shop, set back from all the others. My face turned away from her, thankfully she couldn’t see my expression. I hadn’t told Diana about Sarah. I hadn’t told anyone.

Except Murphy—and why was that?

“Can’t say as I have.” I set my backpack next to the door and dug out my key.

Sarah had just started first grade when she died, and she’d gone to private school. Homeschooling gave me the willies.

“The kid’s too bright for his own good,” Diana muttered.

“Aren’t they all?” I opened the door.

Cool air brushed my face. I’d hired a local to run the shop while I was away, as well as take care of

Lazarus. But it was past closing time, so Diana and I had the place to ourselves.

I led the way through the shop to the kitchen. Everything seemed in order. I’d check more thoroughly later.

“Can you pour us a drink?” I asked, not waiting for her answer as I went to greet Lazarus.

His head was up; he took one look at me and hissed.

“I was only gone a few weeks.”

“What’s the matter?” Diana stepped through the multicolored beads that hung from ceiling to floor in the doorway between the shop and my apartment. They clattered far too loudly in the silence that followed.

“He hissed at me.”

“Probably saw me and got confused.”

I cast her an exasperated glance. Diana and I were as unalike physically as two women could be.

Nevertheless, I switched on the light and moved closer to the cage.

Lazarus struck, smashing his head into the chicken wire. Shocked, I fell back. He continued to strike so violently I was afraid he’d injure himself.

“What’s wrong with him?” Diana asked.

“I don’t know.” I went to the phone and dialed the number of the kid I’d hired.

He answered on the second ring. “Yo.”

“Ben, it’s Cassandra.”

“You back? Excellent. I can party tonight, you don’t need me to open tomorrow.”

“No. Fine. Whatever. I was wondering about Lazarus.”

“He’s OK. For a snake.”

“Was he behaving strangely? Hissing, angry, striking at the cage?”

“My boy? Naw. He was excellent.”

“Thanks.” I hung up and dialed the first veterinarian in the phone book. Unfortunately, he wasn’t up on the latest snake psychosis and couldn’t help me.

“Your best bet would be to check with a zoologist who specializes in reptiles,” he advised.

My gaze met Diana’s. She tilted her head, frowning as I hung up. “What did he say?”

“That I should check with a zoologist.”

Her eyebrows shot up, and she stared at the cage. Lazarus had slithered into a box in the corner and was now hiding his head. Better than the aggressive behavior but still worrisome.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“You’re barking up the wrong zoologist.”

“Ha-ha,” I said.

Diana’s specialty was wolves, which had come in handy recently.

“I don’t know anything about reptiles. Except that I don’t like them.”

” Shh,” I murmured.

Lazarus seemed to have a sixth sense for those who were afraid of snakes, and he took great pleasure in tormenting them. Which probably explained his animosity for Diana better than any j ealousy over my affections.

“He seems better now,” she said. “Maybe he was just expressing his displeasure at your leaving him behind.”

“Maybe,” I agreed, though I didn’t think so. I’d been around Lazarus enough to recognize hate when I saw it. The only thing he’d ever disliked more than Diana had been my neighbor’s cat.

“Let’s have that drink while you tell me all you know.” Diana preceded me to the kitchen table, where she poured us both a glass of thick, ruby red Cabernet.

I stared into the liquid and thought of the blood dripping from the bowl and into the ground, then the bodies shooting up out of the dirt, then—

Nothing.

Frowning, I took a sip. Diana took one, too, watching me over the rim of her glass. I must have looked pretty tired, probably because I was. Hoping to get this over with quickly, I launched into the tale of my trip to Haiti.

She didn’t so much as blink when I spoke of the waterfall, the zombies, Mezareau. She’d seen worse.

“The spell sounds too easy,” she murmured.

I’d thought the same thing, but what could I do? The spell was what it was.

“It isn’t easy if you don’t know what it is,” I pointed out. “You can’t just make this shit up.”

Diana leaned forward. “Can we try it tonight?”

I guess I hadn’t told her every detail. “Have to wait for the full moon.”

Her face fell. “You’d think in order to break the crescent moon curse, you’d need a crescent moon.”

Which wasn’t tonight, either, but why point that out?

“Full moons have great power. Every witch knows that.”

“I’m not a witch and neither are you.”

“Some would beg to differ on that.” Karl had called me far worse than a witch, but then the last time we’d met, I hadn’t been calling him darling, either.

Diana smiled as if I’d been kidding. “I guess we’ve waited this long, we can wait a while longer.”

I only hoped that when I raised the voodoo queen she’d be amenable to removing the curse, or at least telling me how. If not, I didn’t know what we would do.

I finished my wine in a single gulp. Diana’s was already gone.

“Another?” I asked.

“I’d better get back. The new babysitter is great, but I don’t want to push it.”

As the last sitter had wound up werewolf lunch, I completely understood her point.

At the door she paused. “Have you talked to Edward?”

“Not since I arrived in Haiti. Is he in New Orleans?”

“No. But you’d better get in touch before he shows up. You know how he hates to waste a trip. He’ll want to be here when you raise the dead, but not a minute before. Places to go, monsters to kill, you know.”

I knew.

“Make sure you tell him what happened to Mezareau. He might want to send someone to check on the zombies.”

“Except the village isn’t exactly easy to find.”

“With the sorcerer dead, it might be a lot easier.”

True. The waterfall was at least water and not a wall.

“You remember when we asked the moon goddess, Erzulie, for help, and you sent me to voodoo heaven?” Diana asked.

“Not you, just your mind.”

“Yet I brought back a very real piece of the goddess’s garden.”

That had been kind of hard to explain. It had been my finest hour in the realm of magic.

“You’ll be able to do this, too,” Diana said. “You’ll see.”

She was trying to pump me up, give me some confidence. It was working.

Diana continued to hover half in and half out of the shop. “There’s something different about you.”

Probably the sex. Another thing I hadn’t told her about, and I wasn’t sure why.

“Can’t put my finger on it,” she murmured, and left.

I closed and locked the door, then wandered through the shop, touching things as I went. This was the first place I’d ever had that was truly mine.

As I passed the chicken wire cage, Lazarus hissed again. In the sudden silence that had followed Diana’s departure, the sound was harsh, almost evil.

If he didn’t stop that, I was going to hunt down a vet who knew his snakes, even if I had to search the entire state of Louisiana, then take Lazarus in for a checkup.

I poured another glass of wine, grabbed my backpack, and carried both into the living area on the far side of the kitchen, where I had a bedroom, bath, and sitting room. The kitchen and the office next to it were common areas that separated where I lived from where I worked.

I hadn’t done much decorating, saving my time and money for the shop and the voodoo temple. I had a bed with a plain blue bedspread and white sheets, a couch, also blue, a chair in brown, and a TV, but no VCR or DVD player. I did not have the time or the inclination to rent movies.

Before I forgot, as if I could, I placed a call to Edward. His voice mail answered, so I left a message.

“I’m in New Orleans, sir. The bokor is dead, but I’m not sure about the zombies. Maybe someone could check and get back to me. I’ll be able to perform the raising ceremony on the night of the full moon.” I hesitated, then ended with a bright and cheery, “See you then!”

Edward would love that. Or maybe not. His funny bone wasn’t very well developed. Considering his life, that was understandable.

I planned to take a bath, sip my wine, go to bed. But before I did, I made the mistake of unpacking.

Crumpled, damp clothes. My knife. Empty plastic bags. Everything kind of smelled, and I decided to cut my losses and toss it all, except for the knife.

I reached into the bottom of the pack to make sure I wasn’t throwing out anything important, and my fingers brushed cool, slick stone.

I thought of my last sight of Murphy being dragged out of the airport—probably to be handcuffed, booked, and searched, everything on his person confiscated, while I was led directly to the plane and ferried out of the country.

You didn ’t think I ’d j ust let you walk out of  my lif e now, did you?

Of course not.

I picked up my glass and downed every last drop of bloodred wine.

I had his diamond.