Lincoln Shaddock removed an envelope from his pocket and extended it. Cia accepted it. The twins gathered up their belongings and raced to their car to find Evelyn asleep in the backseat. They were halfway down the mountain before they caught their breath. “That was wicked weird,” Cia said.
“Yeah. Let’s get Evelyn back to Layla and start studying up on how to get purified before the blood magics sink too deep.”
“Yeah. Good plan.” Cia tore open Lincoln Shaddock’s envelope and drew in a slow breath.
“How much?”
“A hundred thousand dollars. Combined with Evie’s estate, I think we just made enough money to put a huge down payment on a house, sister mine.” They started to giggle. Neither of them said anything about the hysterical edge to their laughter, or what it hid. Not yet.
? ? ?
When the twins left the elegant house in the Montford Historic District, Layla—sans makeup and wearing old jeans—was crying and hugging her mother, having wrapped her in a blanket in the middle of her bed. She was force-feeding her water and Gatorade and cucumber sandwiches.
“Like, who keeps cucumber sandwiches on hand?” Cia said as they walked out of the house.
“People who don’t know the value of leftover homemade soup and yeast bread from Seven Sassy Sisters’.”
Cia said, “Oh yeah. We eat, and then we figure out how to get the blood magics off us.”
“Done.” Liz took a slow breath. Her lungs and ribs didn’t hurt, not at all. She didn’t want to say the words, but couldn’t keep them in. “Jane Yellowrock might have saved our lives. If Romona had gotten free and drawn on the blood magic of the mountain . . .”
“Yeah.” Cia’s tone was grudging. “We’d have been her dinner.”
The silence after her words stretched as the sisters got in the car and drove away. Cia finally said, “When you had the rock on you, the rock Evangelina threw at you when she was trying to kill us all? I tried to push it off. I couldn’t. It was too heavy. You weren’t breathing. Like, at all. Jane—in her cat form—pushed it off. She saved you. I think she saved Carmen that day too. And she did what we couldn’t when she . . .” Cia heaved a breath that seemed to hurt. “When she took care of Evie too.”
Liz knew that took care of meant killed.
“Not because we didn’t have the power or the skills to handle Evangelina, but because Jane thinks, instead of being frozen by fear.”
Liz blinked away tears and said, “Why didn’t you tell me? Now we have to forgive her for killing Evangelina.”
“Which is why I didn’t tell you. I’m not . . . I wasn’t ready to forgive.” Cia turned away, looking out into the night. “Maybe I’m ready now.”
“Yeah. Well.” Liz took a deeper breath than any she had been able to manage in months. “The blood magic? I think it healed me.” She took another breath. “No pain.”
“Crap. We used blood magic, just like Evie did.” Cia’s mouth pulled down. “And it felt good.”
“Addictive good,” Liz whispered. “I can feel the pull of the mountain even now. We are in so much trouble.”
“Yeah. But there is a silver lining. The totally cool Christian Louboutins Layla gave me—once I get the blood off them.”
Liz erupted with laughter, which was what her twin intended. “Us. She gave them to us.”
“Fine,” Cia said. “And the cash. Share and share alike.”
“Yeah. Like always. Even a blood curse we don’t know how to get rid of.”
“We’ll figure it out. We always do.”
Beneath a Bloody Moon
Author’s note: This novella takes place (in the Jane Yellowrock timeline) after Blood Trade, after the short “The Devil’s Left Boot,” and before Black Arts. It takes place over two days in February, before Mardi Gras.
“Jane.”
I turned to the side and pulled the cell closer to my ear so my partners couldn’t see the stupid smile on my face. Deep inside, my Beast rolled to her paws, gathered them tight beneath her, and started to purr. I could hear her response in the tone of my voice when I drawled, “Ricky Bo LaFleur, as I live and breathe.”
He chuckled. “You’ve been in New Orleans too long if you’re picking up the lingo and the accent.”
Too long without you. But I didn’t say it. I was getting smarter. Finally. Our jobs and his little problem meant stealing moments when we could, and none of them were particularly satisfying. Rick is a special agent with PsyLED, the Psychometery Law Enforcement Division of Homeland Security, and so some things he can’t share. His job takes him all over the Southeast. My job means traveling too, hunting and killing rogue vampires or keeping the secrets of the sane ones, so ditto on the not sharing. It puts a barrier between us.