The street ahead was flooded, so Dustin and Kelvin detoured. As they rounded the block, a stall selling hot coffee sat halfway down the street. Kelvin ordered two cups. He had a sip and never paid much attention to the slightly nutty flavor. They continued to stroll and saw the sign. They were only a couple of blocks away from the cemetery. The nutty flavor hung on Kelvin's tongue as he finished his cup and threw it into a trashcan.

“That tasted a little weird,” he said to Dustin as he tipped the cup and finished his.

“That’ll be the walnut favoring.”

“Walnuts!” Kelvin yelped. “Shiite! I’ve got a nut allergy.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah! It’s only the fact that I sometimes can’t turn to my wolf if I’ve had nuts.”

They continued to walk toward the cemetery in silence. Kelvin prayed —not because they were approaching a cemetery, but that he didn’t need to change to his wolf. He’d be pretty-much useless if he did need to. They reached the end of the sidewalk and stood to look across the street. The wrought iron gate was slightly ajar and the black iron arch spanned over the gateway. Lafayette Cemetery No 1 was embossed in silver letters against the black metal. They took a deep breath, looked at each other, and walked across toward the unexpected.

Kelvin yanked on the gate. It resisted as the rusted hinges ground against each other. The low drone of a creak escaped into the night silence. There was an atmosphere, not spooky (that was for kids and bedtime stories), but eerie. It wasn’t as if it was anywhere near the witching hour. It was still early, yet it felt weird, and it felt cold. Dustin squeezed himself through the gap in the gate. Kelvin followed.

“Where do we start?” Kelvin asked.

“Willy said to walk down the middle and we’d come to Marie Laveau's tourist tomb. And that we’d recognize it because it’s had trinkets and flowers left there,” he said. “Then we need to venture further through the tombs away from the path.”

They ambled down the sandy pathway. The faint hint of gravel crunched underneath their boots. Dustin peered to the left and Kelvin to the right. Faded names and dates of death adorned the gravestones that lined the path. The more they walked, the more glamorous the tombs and mausoleums that lay further ahead, became.

Kelvin looked forward. As with any good horror movie, there was a light that shone and illuminated the area. Mist rose from the damp ground as the warm air evaporated the moisture. Kelvin wondered where the light came from. It wasn’t from the moon. That was firmly tucked behind some dark clouds and hadn’t shown itself for a good fifteen minutes. Every now and again, a fleeting shadow dashed across the front of a tomb. Neither Kelvin nor Dustin noticed. They never even saw the eyes that watched their movements. They stood motionless as they looked at the first Marie Laveau tomb. Small bouquets had been laid across the top of the stone, and photos wrapped in cellophane and small notes were attached, asking for help.

“It looks trashy. If this was graffiti, there’d be an uproar.”

“What do you expect from tourists?” Dustin remarked.

Kelvin reached up and fingered the small doll that hung around his neck. They walked a few feet forward, and a narrow path led between the tombs. It wasn't sandy; it was white and really crunched as they stepped on it. The eerie light cast a white glow ahead. The surrounding area was blackened by a trick of the eye.

“What are we looking for now?” Kelvin asked as he followed Dustin closely.

His eyes began peering over his shoulders and back in the direction they had come. Kelvin still never noticed the eyes that watched. They moved in parallel, and as Kelvin looked in their direction, they froze and blended into the shadows. The eyes had done this, many times before, and they knew how to blend into their surroundings.

Dustin paused. He tilted his head back and sniffed. Kelvin cocked his ear and listened. He heard what he thought was the wind. If he’d listened harder, he might’ve heard names being chanted.

The tombs and mausoleums reached well over head height. Kelvin imagined someone running across the tops and leaping on the pathway and scaring the shit out of them. That’d be a little extreme and a little too unexpected, although, very possible and very likely.

Dustin paused again as he saw a small skull that sat on the front of the mausoleum. An orange glow danced inside from a candle that burned brightly. “I think we’ve found it,” he whispered.

They stood facing the mausoleum. It was big, as were all the others that surrounded them. It seemed they were in a tiny village and surrounded by houses made for dwarves. The eerie light Kelvin had seen had moved to way beyond the tombs, and headed across the cemetery. The candle was the only light that shone.

Kelvin knelt and read the inscription. All that was carved was Marie L, VQ and her date of birth, although there was no date of death.

“It seems they think she isn’t dead,” he said, craning his neck as he turned back to Dustin. Dustin was quite tall, and as Kelvin looked up to his face, he noticed the guy who was stood there, now peering over Dustin's shoulder. And he was a lot taller. Dustin never realized until Kelvin pointed and mouthed the words… Behind you.

Dustin turned slowly. His eyes were at the collarbone level of the tall silent guy who made no effort to speak. Dustin tilted his head until he met the whites of the eyes from the guardian.

“We’ve been sent,” Dustin said.

Kelvin stood and reached inside his shirt and pulled the doll from around his neck. He held it out for the guardian to see. The large round eyes squinted as they looked at the doll. The guardian snapped his fingers three times. Once to the right, once to the left, then once out in front.

Three other guys slithered silently from the shadows. “And what were you sent for?”

The guy's voice had bellowed, although it was still quiet and never spread much further than the circle of the tombs that surrounded them. It was more of a low drone and it reverberated through every fiber of Kelvin. It wasn’t often he was afraid of any foe, but this guy could seriously get under his skin.

“It’s rather a long story,” Dustin started to explain as the tall guy held up his hand to silence Dustin. Dustin stopped talking.

The tall guy took the doll from Kelvin's hand and stepped forward to the mausoleum. His large black hand was pushed flat against the stone, and the stone swung inward.

“You’d better follow me.”

He picked up the small skull and stepped inside. Kelvin noticed how tall the guy really was because he had to crouch, and neither Dustin nor he had needed to.

The tall guy rested the skull at the head of the tomb as the door closed behind them. He ushered Dustin and Kelvin to sit on the white stone plinth that ran the length of the one side where they had been led. He sat opposite and reached to the side of him and flicked a switch. Kelvin was surprised to see a small lightbulb flicker into life.

The tall guy chuckled a little. “You look surprised that we have electricity in here.”

“Well, you know, the whole skull and tomb thing.”

“I’d say it’s only for effect. But it’s not. The Voodoo Queen’s all around us,” the tall guy said in a monotone tone. “You’d better tell me the story from start to finish.”

Dustin turned slowly to Kelvin. “Go on, I’ll give you the pleasure.”

Kelvin rubbed his hands together as he watched the tall guy looking at the doll. Kelvin went to speak but was beaten to it.

“Where did you get this doll?”

“My aunt.”

“Ah! So Caron’s your aunt?”

“Yeah! You know her?”

“I remember everyone who visits the Voodoo Queen,” he replied. “Continue.”

Kelvin clasped his hands together and leaned forward. “It all started with a boy and a girl…”

Megan's fingers gripped the comb. It fitted her hand as if it was made for her. The light caught the metal teeth —it was good news for Megan, and bad news for Afro and Taped Ear as her arm pulled backward. With one swift movement, she called on her vlad, her teeth were ready and sank into Leroy’s spider web, tattooed neck. As she tasted his blood, her arm lunged forward. The steel teeth pierced Afro’s skin. He gurgled a while as Megan spun and sliced across Taped Ear’s throat before he had the chance to grab the gun (which he might have loaded). His hands flew to his neck and grasped. Just like Afro, he gurgled as Megan pulled her teeth from Leroy’s neck.

Who’s next?

Megan wasn’t sure which one was the most prominent threat. Maybe Taped Ear? She licked her lips and stepped over Leroy's body. He squirmed on the floor as his feet began kicking at month-old newspapers and empty “American Blonde” beer bottles that Megan thought was a little ironic. Leroy’s body accepted the change. Within thirty to forty minutes he’d be a full-on vlad and waiting for instructions. Afro still gurgled behind her. He wasn’t sure if he could run for help. He was more concerned with his inability to scream, the blood that was oozing through his fingers, and what state his hair was going to be in when all this was over. Taped Ear’s widened his eyes as Megan opened her mouth. He saw her long fangs fronting the rows of razor sharp teeth that backed them up. One hand fumbled under his shirt and stopped as Megan drove the afro comb into his forearm. If his voice box worked, he might’ve screamed. He responded with widened eyes and an expression of pain that he couldn’t express. Megan soon ended that as she grabbed his shoulder. She pulled him toward her and thrust herself deep into the tendons of his neck that stood up proudly from his taut skin. Megan drank as the life slipped away from him. His clambering hands wilted and dropped to his sides. Megan released the grip on his shoulder and cast him aside.

Now for dessert. Two down, one to go.

Afro stepped back as Megan peered at him through long strands of damp hair. He saw the golden hue of her eyes as she stepped over Leroy’s half-turned body. He held his hand in front of him as he clutched his neck with the other. Megan could make out the sounds as he attempted to scream.

“No! Please!” He sounded as if his head was under water. Blood bubbled from the row of holes in his neck where his jugular befell multiple piercings.

Now his fingers tightened against his throat. Megan brushed his other hand to the side. As he hit the wall, she plunged her head forward. Wisps of hair lashed his face as her head rocked from side to side. The holes in his neck were shredded by the row of teeth which lacerated his skin. He threw his hands back against the wall. His body squirmed as the blood was sucked from his beating heart. His fat fingers wrapped around the door handle as his other hand hit the picture that was hanging on the wall.

Megan savored each drop. Afro’s racing heart faltered as he accepted his fate. Megan stepped back. His feet moved across the ripped vinyl floor, his sneaker dug into a rip, and the dulled orange vinyl curled under his weight, it was as if he was peeling an orange. His back slithered down the wall, and he slumped to one side as his eyes rolled back. Megan watched as his eyelids flickered. His body accepted his transformation.

A veritable feast for one, and a good result for Sanders…

An old faded mirror hung on the far wall. Megan straightened her hair and zipped her jacket up. A small dot of blood sat at the crease of her mouth. With her pinky, she wiped it away.

The old door closed behind her as she stepped over the old carton that Leroy had earlier perched his ass upon when she’d approached the corner. She turned and walked back the way she came. By the time she reached the store, Gabriel should be finished, and then they could get back to the motel. Megan always had pent up energy after a feed, and she wanted to release it. As she reached the door, she saw the hand turn the sign from Closed to Open. She took hold of the handle, and then she twisted and opened the door.

The smell of lavender filled the air as she stepped inside. The old woman glared at Megan. She smiled.

Are you for real, and do you know who I am?

“How was your…” Megan did the quotation mark sign with her fingers “…reading?”

“Insightful, that’s all I can say.” Gabriel was tightlipped and smiled at Megan. “I’m not allowed to mention anything that was said, or it’ll all go wrong.”

“Understandable.”

“Where’ve you been, anyway?”

“I took a walk around and had a bite to eat,” Megan replied, wanting to exit the store as fast as possible. She wasn’t keen on how the old woman stared at her.

Gabriel pulled his phone from his pocket. He turned it back on and waited for the signal to kick in. He made a point of mentioning there was no signal. The old woman told him it was due to the bridge. Once they were at the top of the street, he’d be able to use his phone. Gabriel thanked the old woman and paid her. It wasn’t exactly crossing her palm with silver, although she accepted greenbacks as an alternative, and in the worst cases, she also accepted Visa.

The faint sound of the chime faded as they walked back up the street. It would be in about twenty paces time that they’d reach the corner where Leroy, Afro, and Taped Ear had met their maker. It wasn’t the maker anyone would expect. Megan was their maker, and she’d made them into something entirely different (and so much better). For their sakes, she hoped they realized they wouldn’t be able to deal in the day, or they’d all go up in a puff of smoke. A puff that was way larger than that which came from the end of a joint.

Gabriel walked on the right and was apprehensive in case they bravely decided to try and retake his watch or wallet. Albeit, this time it might be with a loaded gun. He was first to see around the corner, and the three guys were sat back on the steps chatting as if nothing had previously happened.

“Hey there!” Leroy called. “Pleasure meeting you.”

Gabriel felt stumped at the change in attitude. They’d gone from trying to stage a hold up to the types of guys who’d help a granny cross over the street without mugging her.

“Likewise.” He was dumbfounded. “I wonder what got into those guys to make them so polite, so quickly?”

Megan chortled.

Me.

“A cup made of bones, take another sip. All isn’t over, keep a stiff upper lip.”