“Do you think we’re getting closer to the end?” Charlie asked. They were sitting on the rooftop of Pat O’Brien’s, the famous bar, waiting for the next group of vampires to appear, since they had apparently declared the French Quarter their battleground. Their last fight had taken all of Kendal’s skill and Charlie’s help—the opponents were getting better.
“When we encounter the ones carrying the same weapons as ours, we’re getting closer to the head slimeball. All these others who think their kung fu moves will make a difference are just bait.” She peered down at the street and wondered if they could get away with what she had planned next. “Ready?” she asked, quickly descending the gutter pipe to the crowded street.
“Warrior, I am Troy,” said the man she’d spotted as he pulled his blade from the sheath strapped to his back. The five Troy had with him followed his lead, laughing when the crowd dispersed, but remained nearby.
“Please, call me Redemption,” she joked, twirling her sword slowly in one hand. In the other was a knife she had pulled from her boot.
“Why?” asked one of the fighters with Troy.
She moved forward a little, giving Charlie room to land to the applause of the crowd, which now thought it was a street performance. “What, Henri doesn’t give you time to watch television? I’d contact my union rep about that. You need to have time to watch televangelists between all the killing and mayhem. They’ll tell you to accept Jesus Christ because eternal life is only possible through redemption. That’s me, and I want your soul.”
“Kill her,” Troy screamed.
Three of his men rushed forward, and sparks flew from their weapons when they clashed with her. “Watch my back, Charlie. These creeps have been practicing.”
Everyone stared in awe as her katana met the other three swords stroke for stroke, driving them down one of the side streets. With one kick to the side of the shortest one’s head, she sent his blade clattering.
When most of the audience clapped, she smiled before running up the brick wall of a building close by and flipping over two of the vampires’ heads, landing in the middle of them. “Now you see them, and now you don’t.” The blade of the katana sliced through the one who was armed, and she threw the knife into the chest of the one who wasn’t. When the oblivious crowd started clapping again, she took a bow after they turned to dust.
It was approaching midnight when the other two moved forward, Troy hanging back to observe. She took a short axe off her belt and stood waiting as the taller one twirled his sword in precision moves, as if trying to impress her. With no theatrics, she threw her axe and his exercise ended, his weapon dropping to the street. “Good form, but fancy sword tricks won’t get it done, Troy,” she said, keeping an eye on the guy standing between her and Troy, holding his sword still with both hands.
He suddenly dropped it and starting running, only to meet the same fate at the end of the other axe when she threw it with deadly aim. Because of the crowd, she followed the weapon’s path to make sure it had hit its mark.
“Kendal, turn around,” Charlie yelled, but before she could, Troy’s sword sliced completely through her chest. The instant pain dropped her to her knees. His aim had punctured a lung and nicked her heart. She felt Troy yank a bit, like he was pulling it out to stab her again, when the crowd applauded again. The movement had stopped and she could still see the end sticking out of her chest, but she was getting weaker by the second. Had it not been for the elixir, her fight would’ve ended before the sword made it all the way through.
“I got him,” Charlie said, kneeling next to her.
“Could you do me a favor?”
“Move faster next time?”
“There’s that, yeah, but I was thinking more about you pulling this goddamn thing out of my chest so I can beat you with it.” She laughed up at his concerned face. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, this hurts like a bitch.”
A mounted policeman rode up and looked down at the bloodstain growing along her shirt. “Are you all right, lady?”
She stood on shaky legs and nodded, borrowing Piper’s expression, “Just peachy.” She sheathed the katana and accepted Charlie’s help to get to her feet. “How’d you like the show? We thought we’d try a dry run out here before moving into the theater down the street.”
“The disappearing acts could’ve been better, and the blood on your shirt is too dark looking to be real.”
“Well, it’s really old,” she said with a smile. She took the axes back from Charlie before accepting his help back to the car. “Everyone’s a critic, I swear.”
*
“You’re not still beating yourself up, are you, Charlie?” Kendal asked. She had been silent during the drive, reviewing that last fight. Something about the way some of the demons fought had nothing to do with Henri and his training. Their skill level was much more advanced, and the style wasn’t the straightforward technique the younger ones had displayed, simply trying to overpower their opponent. These guys showed more finesse, which spoke of experience with the blade.
Charlie had been driving the speed limit since she didn’t want to get pulled over and have to explain the bloody mess. She was in no danger of dying, but she wouldn’t fight again until the sun came up and brought back her full strength.
“I’m turning out to be more of an anchor to you than anything else. You should start going out alone and leave me behind,” Charlie said, finally breaking his silence.
“You took care of the big guy, or did the audience participate more than I realized?”
He put the vehicle in park and smiled at her. “No, that was me, and stop trying to make me feel better. I didn’t get to you before he stabbed you.”
“Time will make you better, but you’re with me because I want you here. Would you like to wait until I’m done? I don’t want to pressure you into something you’d rather not do.”
The night was starting to fade with the coming of dawn, and he looked out toward the east. “If you don’t mind, I want to be there for you, but mostly for Celia and my sons. They deserve for me to try to kill the bastard who did that to them. I’m sorry he’s your brother, but I want nothing more than to kill him.”
“I know how you feel. Have I ever told you who Henri or Abez’s first kill was all those years ago when he became what he is?”
“Trust me, I remember all our talks having to do with him. You never told me much more than what he is.”
She moved her hand from her chest and put it on his shoulder. “It was my father.”
“Did you share the same parents?” Charlie looked at the steering column in shock.
“Yes, but that didn’t stop him from killing the man who’d raised and taken care of him even as an adult when he came home drunk and broke, expecting to be bailed out again. I wasn’t there, but I can imagine the betrayal my father must have felt as Abez drained him. Like you, it’s what made me accept Morgaine’s offer of eternal life.”
He looked up at her in dismay. “You thought about not taking it?”
She studied her chest wound, which still bled freely. The blow would have killed her seconds after Troy inflicted it if she hadn’t accepted the elixir more than three thousand years ago. “I didn’t want to live forever. I wanted to serve my pharaoh, then find a woman to share my life with. Back then if you believed strongly enough, the gods would provide all that I could not, like children.”
“But to never worry about death…”
She laughed. “Is replaced by the worry of living forever. Your family was different, Lionel. You watched them die and you wanted revenge, so I gave you the means to see it through. No one was left when I returned from battle; Abez’s hunger and vengeance took them all. At first when I saw what he’d done, I wanted to join them in the valley of the dead, but instead I chose my honor and duty. My father would have expected me to destroy Henri and creatures like him, so I followed Morgaine into the desert willingly.”
“Let’s get you out of here to wait for the sunrise.”
Her hand left a smear of blood along the door when she leaned on it to climb out of the car. She barely had the strength to stay on her feet. The purple of the night sky was turning pink behind the house, and she started walking slowly to one of the lawn chairs to sit and wait. It wouldn’t take long for the healing to begin once the first rays of light appeared.
Behind them, an unexpected visitor announced herself by retching. When Kendal turned around, she sighed, watching Piper hold her stomach as if trying not to throw up again at the sight of all the blood she’d left in the car. She nodded when Charlie hiked his eyebrows in question.
“May I help you with something, Miss Marmande?” he asked while Kendal headed to the back of the house, leaving him to deal with Piper.
“I want to call an ambulance if you aren’t going to.”
“What do we need an ambulance for?”
“For the idiot bleeding profusely behind you,” Piper said, making Kendal laugh at the insult. “Who’s doing a good job of ignoring me, by the way.” Piper raised her voice so Kendal would be able to hear her, even though she’d almost reached the chair.
“It’s just a scratch, Miss Marmande, but I’m sure Kendal would feel better if you left her to rest and recover. I’ll be happy to walk you out to the gate so you won’t trip in the dark.”
“I’m not leaving until I talk to her.”
“Or I could carry you and deposit you on the road, your choice,” Charlie said, making Kendal stop to hear Piper’s answer. She turned around when she heard Piper scream, surprised she’d almost reached her before Charlie caught her. Piper continued yelling all the way to the entrance as Charlie carried her over his shoulder like one of the bales of cotton he’d lugged here long before. Every time she was able to land a fist on his back, she seemed to get angrier when he laughed. Even though the gate was some distance away, she heard the squeak when Charlie opened the small entryway.
“Have a good day, Miss Marmande,” Charlie said, and Kendal relaxed and closed her eyes now that the area grew peaceful again.
“You’ll be having a great day too when I come back with the police,” Piper screamed at him.
A few hours later Kendal didn’t get up when the sheriff’s deputy climbed out of his cruiser. He’d arrived unannounced since she’d made Charlie open the main gates to show they had nothing to hide.
“Good morning, ma’am. Sorry to bother you, but could I have a word?” the deputy asked. She was sitting at the table on the porch eating a huge stack of waffles with syrup. Next to the plate sat another one with eggs and a rare steak. Not that she needed the food to repair the wounds, but eating the large breakfast that had followed Lola’s old recipes made her feel better, and she gave in to the cook’s wishes to feed her.
“Is there a problem?”
“Miss Marmande here—”
“If that’s your problem, I can’t help you. Annoyance isn’t illegal. It just makes her a pain in the ass,” Kendal said, pointing her fork at Piper, who stood with her fists on her hips after getting out of the passenger side.
He put his hand over his mouth to disguise his laugh. “I apologize for the bother, but Miss Marmande swears she was here this morning and you were knocking on death’s door from an injury to your chest. Seems you were bleeding pretty badly, so again, I’m sorry, but we have to follow up on her report.”
“I spilled a V8 in the car, but I can assure you I wasn’t bleeding.”
“V8, my ass,” Piper said in a frustrated voice, taking the steps two at a time, then stopping next to her. “Stand up right now.” Kendal’s chair legs scraped the wood floor when she pushed away from the table to do as Piper asked. “Now we’ll see who’s lying.”
Piper turned her around so as not to expose her to the deputy and opened her robe.
“If you wanted to come to my house and see me naked, you didn’t have to bring the police with you. Asking nicely would’ve done the trick.”
“Um, in your dreams. I was just worried about you, but you seem perfectly healthy.” Piper’s eyes never stopped slowly moving up and down her body.
“Miss Marmande, is everything in order?” the deputy asked, coming a little closer.
“Yes, I’m sorry. I must have misunderstood. She’s all right. Nothing out of place and no holes that shouldn’t be here.”
“Are you done?” Kendal asked, amused.
“Hmm?” Piper sounded distracted as she stared at her abdomen.
“The visual tour, are you done?”
“Of course,” Piper said, but her fingers still gripped the thick cotton of the robe.
“Of course,” Kendal repeated, closing the robe herself. She turned to the deputy still standing by the steps with his hand covering his mouth again and gave him a smile. “Would you care for some coffee, Officer?”
“No, ma’am, we won’t take up any more of your time. Miss Marmande, you ready to go?”
“You can go ahead. I’ll see that Miss Marmande gets home. After all, she hasn’t checked out the back for suspicious puncture marks,” she said, making Piper blush.
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll leave you to that.” The leather of his utility belt creaked as he got into the car, and as he closed the door he couldn’t hold back the laughter anymore, making Piper turn a darker shade of red.
“Thank you for not subjecting me to his company all the way back to the sheriff’s office, but you and I both know what I saw this morning. You were hurt, and that guy threw me out instead of letting me call for help.”
She pulled a chair out for Piper and put her hand on her shoulder to get her to sit in it. “I’m flattered that you were worried about me, but, as you saw, I’m fine. If I didn’t know better I’d say you were stalking me.”
“You must have gotten an A+ in your self-esteem class. Why in the world would I stalk you?” Piper watched as she poured her a cup of coffee and mixed it with the right amounts of sugar and cream. “I don’t even like you all that much, remember?”
“At the risk of my sanity, why were you here at the crack of dawn?” She motioned for the young man at the front door to bring out the plate he was holding. “I ask because, for someone who doesn’t like me all that much, you spend inordinate amounts of time trying to see me.”
“You interest me. Is that a crime?”
“Interest you how?”
The red streaks of a blush ran up Piper’s face again, and she tried to hide behind her coffee cup. “Not like that,” she whispered, apparently so the server wouldn’t overhear.
“Shall I call Charlie to carry her out again, sire?” the man said in Japanese.
“Let’s wait on that. If worse comes to worst I’ll carry her out myself.” Kendal acknowledged his bowed head, then pointed to Piper’s plate. “You should try them while they’re hot. They’re pecan hotcakes, an old family recipe.”
“Whose family?”
“The St. Louis family, I would imagine.” She buttered the stack and poured cane syrup over them so Piper would start eating. They weren’t quite as good as Lola’s, but the new chef had come close. “Shall I cut them up and feed them to you as well?”
“How are you related to the St. Louis family?” Piper asked, picking up her fork.
“I’m more like a family caretaker than a relative, and you haven’t answered my question as to why you were here this morning.”
“We’ll get to that, but can you tell me about Jacques St. Louis and the woman he was going to marry, Angelina?”
Kendal ran the final piece of hotcake around her own plate to pick up the last of the syrup she had poured over them and chewed slowly, trying to avoid this conversation with Piper without making her crazy by putting her off. “What makes you think I’d have any of that history in my head, Miss Marmande?”
“Can I ask you something?” Kendal nodded. “Why do you call me Miss Marmande but call Hill Ms. Hickman?”
“You don’t look like a Ms. to me, and it’s impolite, according to old Southern tradition, to address you that way.”
“Kendal, if I asked you to, would you call me Piper?” The question came out in a tired voice, and Piper’s shoulders almost slumped.
“I would be happy to.” Kendal pushed Piper’s plate closer, cut one small piece, and held it up to her mouth.
One taste encouraged Piper to finish the plate, so Kendal enjoyed the silence that surrounded them. The only breaks came when she addressed or answered questions from her staff in whatever language they felt comfortable speaking.
“Would you excuse me for a moment? I’ll run up and throw some clothes on and drive you home, if you like.”
“What would you be doing if I hadn’t barged in on you with a police escort? I could call someone to give me a ride if you had plans.”
“I was going for a ride, but I’m sure Ruda won’t mind waiting until this afternoon since I have all the time in the world.” She stood up and cinched the belt on her robe tighter. “You’re free to do whatever will make you more comfortable, like calling someone else to drive you, but I really don’t mind.” Piper nodded and smiled.
“All set?” she asked a few minutes later, now dressed.
“Will you take me riding?” Piper leaned forward in her chair in a way that made Kendal think she was ready to debate the issue until she gave in.
“You like to ride?”
“No, but I thought I could ride with you.”
“That would require you to get really close to me.”
“I want to get on a horse with you, Kendal, not do the nasty. Come on, I have a rare morning off since I thought I’d be driving you to the hospital, and you still haven’t answered all my questions.”
“I’d love to.”
They walked to the stables with Piper looking around like she was trying to commit the grounds to memory in case this was her only opportunity on this side of the fence. Inside above the wide doors of the barn hung the St. Louis family crest Kendal had had made of copper years before. Charlie had relocated there from the house. Fixing and rearranging things around the property had kept him sane, she guessed, and some of his improvements such as the tile floors in the barn showed his growing craftsmanship.
Ruda had been brushed and stood in place clicking his heels and bobbing his head when he saw her. The stallion was a big boy, and Piper looked at Kendal with fear when she offered her a hand up after mounting. To make Piper feel more secure, Kendal placed her in front of her so she could hang on to her.
The gate opened for them as she led Ruda to the road, and Piper was clutching her forearms so tight, Kendal decided she would subject her only to a slow ride on the levee. She moved her arm to Piper’s waist as the horse clopped up the incline.
“Do you have something against saddles?”
“This is better for the horse, less cumbersome. Just relax and go with him.”
“Will you tell me about this place?” Piper squeezed her arm. “You didn’t say you didn’t know.”
“Very perceptive of you, Piper. What do you want to hear?”
“How did Oakgrove come to be?”
New Orleans, Spring 1721
Jacques stepped off the boat and looked around the busy port. Most of the moored vessels flew French colors, a good number of Spanish, and a sprinkling of others. Here among the pirates and settlers would be a good place to hide for a while and forget her responsibilities. She also craved to work for something that wasn’t born out of the privilege she’d known in France. Once her cover was secure, she could start searching for Abez, or Henri, as he called himself now.
“Carry your bags, monsieur?” asked one of the small boys hanging around looking for spare change.
It was a short carriage ride to the hotel, and one gold piece later she was walking with her new friend toward the stables. “Don’t you want to sleep, monsieur? That was a long voyage you just finished.”
“Sleep is for those who have time for it.” She patted his head and sent him back to the docks with his earned loot, glad that her disguise fooled at least a boy.
After a quick negotiation Jacques St. Louis bought his first new horse and rode out of town. On the way she passed the main auction blocks, where most had lost their minds to greed and inhumanity. She would deal with that issue later, since she wasn’t interested in anything now but being alone with her thoughts. Places like Paris and New Orleans were filled with the types of people she wanted to escape, so the countryside bordering the river was ideal.
She rode at a good clip until the sun went down, stopping at a general store with a stable where she spent the night to give the horse a break. The next morning she came to a clearing where the sun made the leaves on the new oak trees glimmer like they were wet. Immediately, she envisioned building a house there and making it her home.
Two weeks later she owned all the land that stretched from a large bayou to the north all the way to the river, plus the large lake at its center. During that trip to New Orleans to negotiate the land purchase, she’d also come back with Lola, her son Joseph, and Lionel to start building. The main house took a year, since that was all they worked on, and with Lola’s help, she returned frequently with more haggard people from the auction block and any of their relatives being sold that day.
Alone she couldn’t do away with the trade, but with Lola there talking to the ones who understood her as they came off the boats, they at least had the comfort of keeping together the family who’d survived the trip. Some, like Lionel, were highly suspicious of her at first, but after a few trips to town and seeing the whip scars across some of the men’s backs, he grew to trust her and gladly helped her and Lola add to their numbers.
By the time she and Lionel had come back from France and she met Angelina, Oakgrove was one of the largest and most profitable plantations in the South. And it was the only one in Louisiana where the farm’s cook, Lola, used the bedroom reserved for the lady of the house, with Jacques’s blessing.
New Orleans, present day
Kendal stopped Ruda and looked back in the direction of the house. The trees had grown, but the levee made it possible to still see the roofline. It looked so different than the first morning she’d stopped here, but she still felt the same. Oakgrove had been the first house she’d built from nothing. All the other estates had been someone else’s dream first, but not Oakgrove.
“The family history says that Jacques St. Louis stopped here one morning, seeing the potential others didn’t. Back then, the trees were smaller and there was no levee or road.”
Piper completely relaxed against her as she spoke. “It sounds like he was a man driven by what he wanted,” Piper said, moving slightly so she could turn around and look at her. “It seems to still be a dominant trait in his gene pool.”
Kendal smiled at Piper’s compliment and pointed to the house. “It took him only two weeks to purchase, rather cheaply, I understand, all the land now surrounded by the fences erected much later.”
“Was it all farmland?” Piper asked, turning around again so she could recline against her.
“Most of it, but some was left untouched for hunting.” Kendal pointed out the area with the largest trees and densest vegetation. “From the stories I’ve read, he purchased close to a thousand slaves, who helped him farm the land and erect the buildings you see.”
“What happened to them? I’ve read everything I could about this place, but because an extremely private family still owns it, no one knows for sure.”
“Are you asking because you plan to write your own book?” she asked, teasing.
“No. I can keep a secret.” Piper slapped her arm.
Kendal turned Ruda around so they could look out over the Mississippi. “After a tragic loss, the land and the house lost their appeal, so Jacques left for Europe but couldn’t stand parting with a place he’d come to love.”
“Do you mean after Angelina du’Pon died?” Piper asked, surprising her that she would’ve known the name.
“Yes, after Angelina and her uncle Tomas were killed, the dream of this place seemed to die with them.”
“What about the slaves he owned? The official record states the sheriff found no one when he arrived with his men a short time after Angelina died.”
“You really have read everything there is about the place,” Kendal said and laughed. “Jacques bought them off the auction blocks, but once they came to live here, the shackles were taken off and melted for farming tools. In his mind they were forever free and a part of his family. When he left, he let them all choose where to go.”
“How’d he move that many people that fast?”
“Jacques St. Louis was a resourceful man with plenty of friends who made their living at sea flying the Jolly Roger. With their help, he had boats brought here that sailed out in the afternoon, so they passed through New Orleans in the dead of night headed for Cuba, where his friends awaited his arrival.”
Kendal stared at the water, remembering arriving in Cuba and offering to take them home, if that was what they desired, so they could reunite with the families the slavers had stolen them from. After a night to think about it, the entire small fleet she’d hired in Cuba followed her to England, where they adapted well to country life, learning to farm and herd in a vastly different climate. Their disappearance, accomplished so quickly, helped keep the plantation intact when the stories of evil deeds and curses spread like wildfire. Only Lionel stayed behind to maintain the land and buildings, having free run of everything. The cabin he’d shared with his family had been his home ever since.
“What an honorable man.”
“He was someone who tried to do the right thing in evil times.”
“True, and he would be proud to see that too still runs in his bloodline.”
“I’m a thief, Miss Marmande, you said so yourself on more than one occasion. There’s nothing honorable about that.”
“There’s another old Southern tradition you forget,” Piper said, smiling. “A woman has the right to change her mind if she wants to.”
“I must be losing my touch if you’re starting to like me.”
“Oh, the shame of it all,” Piper said in her best Southern-belle accent and laughed.
It felt like sunshine to Kendal. Her laugh sounded so much like Angelina’s, but in reality, when Piper relaxed and let down her defenses, she was much more beautiful than Angelina on her best day. Because of that, Kendal felt the need to raise her own walls to protect her heart. She couldn’t bear to lose herself again; her vulnerability had come close to ruining her the last time. Piper wasn’t Angelina, but Kendal could easily fall for those green eyes if she allowed herself.