She heard him grunt an answer as she pulled in front of the ER. The ER doors slid open. Raven’s gaze darted around the room, searching for someone familiar, but there was no one she recognized. She called out for immediate assistance. A young female resident dropped the chart she was working on, grabbed a wheelchair and followed her outside.
“Dr. Strigoi, what’s wrong?” The woman trailed behind Raven to the back passenger door.
“The patient’s name is Derrick. I don’t have a last name. Pulse is irregular, breathing shallow.” Raven opened the door to allow her access to Derrick.
But he was gone.
Again.
Chapter Four
Nightmares interrupted Raven’s sleep that night.
If at all possible, his face appeared whiter than the down feathers of a swan. He possessed all the grace of one, too. That’s where the similarities ended, though. Raven had never encountered such power, with a single exception.
Her father.
One would have to know her father to appreciate the significance of what she was thinking. To Raven and her mother, he’d been gentle and kind, but to others, he could be-and often was-ruthless. He was powerful and used to getting his own way, but he had an old world charm about him that enabled him to win many disputes easily. When Raven’s father wanted to, he could be the most charismatic man on earth.
Of course, he could kill his adversaries, but there was no sense of accomplishment then. He savored the hunt, as did all Lamai worth their salt. It was part of being born a Lamai, whether by choice or not. But time had worn away some of the rough edges of Raven’s sire’s personality.
The man in her dream, however, was not her father.
“Soon I will get you, ma beauté. I am close, very close. The time has come…”
Raven writhed in bed, moaning from the nightmares that had been beleaguering her all night.
“I have someone I wish for you to meet. You will be so surprised,” the monster in her dream continued in a singsong voice.
Then this foreign figure diminished and familiar ones immediately replaced him: her mother, Bo, her father, Frank and Solaris. All were telling her something, but the voices sounded like electronic voice phenomena or static on a television set. The images faded, and only the voices remained.
Before she knew it, she was squinting into the morning sun that blazed through her windows. She’d had her worst night’s rest in a while, and it promised to be a grueling day, beginning at the hospital and ending with a meeting at Town Hall.
After an exhausting day at the lab spent going over reams of paperwork, Raven arrived at Frank’s office. The sun settled where low clouds met the horizon. She walked straight in and began recounting the meeting with Julianna at The Bed and Brew.
“Frank, I met with Jules the other night and she advised me to speak with you. I need to know what’s going on.” This time, she took the cognac he offered and settled into the wingback chair opposite him.
He looked uncomfortable and resigned, though she couldn’t discern why.
“You know my threshold for weird is quite vast, but there are things happening that push the boundaries even for me. The man in my autopsy room, Derrick, showed up in my car. My car. And he was going through the transformation.” Raven took a deep breath, watching Frank’s reaction.
Frank emptied his glass, poured another drink for himself and sighed.
Raven continued, hoping to get Frank to open up. “The guy was freaked out and asking a lot of questions, said I’m in trouble. Warned me about some evil that’s around and mentioned a Courtier de Sang. He wanted to know about my father. If you know anything, Frank, you’ve got to fill me in. Why would he want to know about my father?”
Frank hitched a shoulder and rubbed a hand across his chin before he spoke. “Your mother loved you and Tobias with all her heart. You know that, don’t you?”
She nodded. “My father made sure I remembered my mother and how much she loved me. We celebrated her birthday, which I thought odd, but my father presumably had his reasons. And he still keeps her pictures in his wallet and all over his homes.”
Frank smirked. “Yes, all half-dozen of them-or is it seven homes now? Anyway, Tobias, although he’s a complete bastard now, was a different…being…when you were younger and your mother was still alive.”
Raven shivered at the thought of her mother dying so young. “I know her death…did something to him.” She pulled her legs up and tucked her skirt around them, then curled them underneath her.
Frank rocked his recliner back and forth, like the ticking of a clock. “I’ve known your parents for a long time. I grew up with your momma. We all lived in New Orleans at one point. She was a spitfire. I was quiet as a kid, but your mother spoke her mind, no matter what other people thought. The two of us were inseparable as kids, and even into our teenage years.” His face had started to glow with emotion, raw and intense, while he traveled back in time. “I sort of looked after her. Especially when she would talk about the neighbors’ dead relatives who came to her with messages for them. I got into many fights defending your mother’s…sanity.” He laughed to himself.
“You were born down there, in the Garden District. Ah-such a beautiful place to live. I’m thinking of moving back when my term as mayor comes to an end. Your father…” Frank shook his head. “Tobias is an enigma for sure. I’ve seen the maniacal side of him, and then there’s the giving side. Your mother gets most of the credit for that. Did you know how much he’s given to the people of New Orleans since Katrina? All in memory of your mother, and surreptitiously.” He appeared lost in the past. His eyes held a faraway gaze.
He rubbed his hand across his forehead. “Your mom-Nicolette-was gorgeous. A Creole beauty with eyes as green as emeralds, and long, curly hair. She had legs that seemed to go on forever. She could have been a model.”
Raven observed the musings of her friend and mentor carefully. “Sounds like you were in love with her, Frank.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Of course I was-since I was six years old, and she was toddling around with her mop of golden curls and enchanting smile,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Her momma, your grandma, was from Averton, in France -a beautiful blonde with the same eyes as your momma. And your grandfather,” Frank laughed and slapped his knee, “he was a force to be reckoned with in the Vodou community. In any community, really. Your grandma had him under control, though.”
He sighed. “Then when we got older, I went off to college. Tulane University. Your mother didn’t want to continue with school. She stayed home. I tell you, Raven, there weren’t too many men who met your mother and didn’t fall in love with her. I teased her and said it was magick, that she put a spell on all the men she met.” He became quiet, and his demeanor changed. The muscles in his face were drawn. His lips were set in a tight line.
“Nicki only had eyes for your father, though. She politely turned Southern men away…except there was that one man who unfortunately did not take no for an answer. Laroque. You were only about a year old at the time, maybe two. Your father was in and out of your lives a lot back then. He asked me to watch over you while he was gone, and since I went to school locally, I agreed. Your father wanted to take you both with him, but your mother was hell-bent on staying home to look after her aging parents. He went out to make his fortune-or at least to keep an eye on it, I suppose. I didn’t question your father. He trusted me, and I wouldn’t betray that trust, or Nicki’s.” He poured more cognac into his glass.
“After your grandparents passed, your father bought a shop in the French Quarter, and your mother ran it. They supplied the local Vodou community with herbs, oils and candles, and she gave readings. That’s where she met Philippe Laroque. He practiced Vodou and Santaria, and he was a powerful bokur.” He lowered his voice every time he said Laroque. Like a curse, it seemed that just speaking the name held a power all its own. Frank reclined in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment. “Is a powerful bokur. He’s a charming guy. Handsome, I suppose. He’s had many women, but the one he couldn’t have was the one he wanted most.”