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.