Blood Haven: Chapter 5

Confluence

The French quarters, New Orleans. 1920

Darrin carefully walked down the stairs from the brothel, her hand keeping a firm grip on the revolver she pocketed in her coat. This was one of the most treacherous parts of the city and it always paid to look sharp when walking the streets. But the search for information that regularly brought her down to these parts made it all worth the risk. A reliable feeler was hard to find these days; her informant was one of the best, even though it always burned a hole in her pocket. 

Allana called it sticking her nose where it shouldn’t be, but Darrin preferred to see it as keeping an eye out for any new developments. Even though many of their past enemies had either been destroyed or parleyed with, one never know who was coming into town with a motive in mind.

Her snitch just informed her of a new arrival in the city, all the way from France. That was always something to be aware of; they hadn’t exactly left that country with cheers and procession. She was about turning into another street when the sound of gunfire and angry voices made her double into an alley. Gang fights were an everyday occurrence but instinct told her this was no ordinary battle for turf. A few moments later, the sound of running feet could be heard coming towards the alley in which she was waiting. Darrin swore softly and pulled out her revolver. This wasn’t on her agenda for the evening. Seconds later and the owners of the feet came into view. A man was running towards her, and in his tow was a little boy. He stopped short when he saw Darrin and made a low growl from the back of his throat. This was definitely a werewolf.

“Stand back, you traitor.”

Darrin stepped out of the shadows so he could see her, and see that she wasn’t hostile. “Look I don’t know what’s going on down there, but I’m not a part of it.”

He snarled threateningly, outstretched hands turning into claws. Her eyes flicked briefly to the child even as she raised her own weapon.

“I really don’t want to get in a fight, so I’d suggest you go on and I’ll go my way.”

He didn’t seem to be interested in whatever she had to say, and Darrin realized she would have to fight him after all. He lunged for her, forcing her to step back out of reach. The battle was brief but hard; he had already been injured from his previous fight and it seemed he didn’t care if he lived or died after this. Darrin saw an opening and pulled the trigger. There was no feeling of satisfaction as he went down, because this was one victory she’d rather have prevented. Her eyes sought out the little boy and she found him hiding behind a dumpster. She walked over and reached for him, hesitating when he flinched back into the wall.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” She murmured with a low voice, hoping to reassure him of his safety with her. Darrin tried again and this time there was no resistance, but there was no emotion from him either. He stared straight ahead, black eyes devoid of all expression, and the pallor of his face suggested he was in deep shock. 

“Come on, let’s get you somewhere nice and warm.”

Allana gave her managers one final instruction and declared the quarterly meeting closed. It was already late and most of them were showing signs of exhaustion from another hard day in the club. She made her way upstairs, thinking about Darrin and the chronic case of paranoia that drove her out to seek unknown enemies in the streets. A brief smile formed at the corner of her mouth at that as she opened the door to their suite. The instant Allana crossed the threshold, she knew someone was invading her space. Someone other than Darrin.

“I’ve got company,” Darrin called from the salon. She turned to the boy sitting on a couch front of her and smiled reassuringly.

“It’s okay, she’s just a little cranky.”

She wasn’t prepared for his reaction once Allana came into view. He hissed out loud and leapt from the couch, backing up into the wall. The latter growled softly and wrinkled her nose, but walked in all the same. Darrin looked from the boy to the vampire and raised an eyebrow. “You two know each other or something?”

Allana shrugged indifferently, relaxed now that she had identified and summed up the intruder as hardly a threat. “He’s only afraid because I can hurt him if I wanted.” She rolled her eyes at the blank look on the other woman's face. “I cannot see how you failed to notice notice that he’s blood bonded to a Werewolf.”

She reached over Darrin's shoulder for a wine glass, the latter wordlessly passed a bottle of Allana’s favorite wine to her. She opened and poured, settling beside the other woman. All three regarded each other with silence for several long moments and then the Vampire made an impatient sound. “Well, is there a story to go with him being here?”

Darrin turned toward the boy and then reached for the half full glass, oblivious of the look the other woman gave her. “I was coming home from the French quarters when I walked into a crossfire. He and another guy were running from the fight, I guess, when they ran into me. The man attacked me and I was forced to kill him.”

Allana nodded distantly and then turned to the cowering boy. She reached across for him and, like with Darrin, he flinched. But that didn’t stop her from pulling him closer. There was a flash of gold around his neck and she withdrew the ornament, frowning at the symbol etched onto it. He shrank away the moment her grip on him slackened. She turned and snatched the glass right back from Darrin.

“He is blooded to Anton of the Clan Markov, and I could take a wild guess that the Werewolf intends to make him one sometime in the future.”

 Werewolves were born but their gestation periods were almost double that of ordinary humans, and the stillbirth rate among litters was high. There was an unspoken rivalry for dominance between the great clan houses and the vampires in the State and City, and it was a numbers game that the Vampires were winning. Werewolves could not mate with humans but the old Clans tried to increase their numbers by 'blooding' via a rudimentary practice of infection. The process was brutal, results were unreliable, and success was almost a rarity.

Allana took a long drink from the glass before looking up to her lover with narrowed eyes. “I don’t want to be involved with whatever is going on in that camp, and that goes for you too. Just get him out of here.”

Darrin shook her head in dissent, glancing quickly at the boy who was listening to them with rapt attention. “It’s late Allana, I can’t just throw him out at this time of the night. We'll keep him here until tomorrow and then figure out things out later.”

She got to her feet and called softly to the boy; he moved toward her, taking anxious glances at Allana as he walked past.

The Vampire gave them both a long look, and then got up and swept out of the suite.

It was much later when Darrin reemerged, presumably after settling her charge in one of their empty rooms. She’d also bathed and changed into an outfit more appropriate for the scene below, a form fitting tuxedo in deep claret. Her customary grin was in place; her eyes scanned through the crowd as she acknowledged patrons, old and new, with a wink here or a wave there. No doubt her partner was doing the same, and she looked around for the familiar flash of burgundy. Allana looked away from the gentleman she conversed with and their eyes met. The warm smile never slipped from her face, neither did it thaw the ice in her stare. Darrin felt her hackles rise; there was something about the way the other woman looked at her that made her want to growl in challenge, and it leaked into her stance. The tension between them hardened for a moment, but then Allana looked away, focusing her charm on the next patron.

Darrin took in a long breath, and slowly exhaled. They would talk about this, later. But for now, they had customers to cater to.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

She turned aside to the figure that had silently come abreast of her, and a smile tugged the corners of her mouth. “Eugenie, it has been a while.”

Madame Eugenie Trudeau was a regular patroness and client of the club. Her husband was a wealthy shipper and well connected to the political circles of the city. She was rumored to be the true owner of two of the largest brothels in town, amongst many other business ventures. She was also a junior Priestess, with reputed skills in fortune telling.

As usual, Mme Trudeau was dressed to the nines; her richly embroidered Qipao was the nearly the same shade as her light honey skin, as evidenced by her arms and the generous decolletage. Her warm brown hair was done in a simple braid past her shoulders, accentuating her slanted eyes and flawless makeup. Jade armlet and bracelet glimmered on her right, while the fingers of the left were adorned with different precious stones. A stunning amber amulet hung around her neck and rested against her stomach. It looked like yet another piece of jewelry but Darrin knew it was a symbol of her rank, as all Priestesses were required to wear. It was different from the emerald she once favored. Eugenie seemed to have moved on the ladder since they last saw, but whether it was up or down was a different matter. Hers was a very secretive cabal.

Darrin took in her resplendent display with an appreciative smile. “You are looking radiant, as always.”

Eugenie was a small woman and had to stand on the tips of her heeled toes to embrace and deliver her customary kiss to both cheeks. “Where have you been?”

Her hostess shrugged, a teasing smile forming on her face. “I was away on business. Why, did you miss me?”

Eugenie leaned closer. “If I said yes, would you believe me? Not that it really matters to you.”

Darrin chuckled lightly, reaching out to liberate two champagne flutes from a passing waiter. She handed one to the other woman and clinked their glasses. “I don’t know why you’d think that; you know I hang upon your every word.”

The priestess polished off her drink and shook her head. “So you say, Darrin, yet the band plays my favorite tune, and you haven’t even asked me to dance.”

“How remiss of me; well then, Mme, may I have this honor?”

Darrin winked and, with a guiding arm around her waist, led them to the dancefloor.

It was an easy thing to be lost in the blues, she mused, as Eugenie went boneless in her arms with a soft sigh; arms sliding up and around her neck.

“You have a way of blowing about like the wind, Darrin.”

She chuckled in response to that observation. “ Some things can’t be helped. It was pressing business; I’m sure Allana must have said something to that.”

“That was all she said,” Eugenie replied, with a twist to the lip. The unpleasant expression disappeared quick as it came, and she sighed dramatically. “Nevertheless, here you are.”

“Here I am, dancing with the incomparable Madame Trudeau.”

The priestess’s laugh rose in the air like tinkling bells. Across the room, Allana looked up to the sound and surveyed the dancing pair as they rounded another couple. Her eyes met with Darrin’s yet again and they measured gazes for a long moment; there was the slightest ring of challenge in the human’s as she swayed with Eugenie. Allana met this with steady ambivalence before flicking back to the patron of the moment with an attentive nod. The other woman watched as she moved from person to person, stopping here and there with a word or a smile, until the song played out and the dancers moved off the floor.

“I believe that is my cue,” Eugenie remarked and gestured toward the far end of the room, to a set of doors that led to a small parlour

Darrin smiled in understanding. “I imagine you have something in stock for us tonight.”

The priestess winked mischievously. “Oh just a little reading; I might let a few truths slip though.”

Every now and then, the club procured her more esoteric skills as a treat to their special patrons. A flair for the great beyond was the latest fad among the Bonton and their hosts saw no harm in pandering to the humans’ appetite for drama with the occasional ‘seance’ or fortune reading. It was just another method by which Bloodhaven retained it’s mystique, and thus its market value. It helped in turn to feed Eugenie’s notoriety and popularity.

The chosen few for the night were already being discreetly pulled away from the rest of the party, toward the little noticed room.

“Well then, allons’y.” Eugenie wrapped her free arm around Darrin’s waist and urged her forward.

They passed by Allana, who was leaning on the arm of the elderly Kimber, another old face in the establishment. His glamorie hid his Seelie nature from the unSighted in the club, and Darrin wondered for a moment if the Priestess could see through the illusion. No doubt, the old coot was just here for the giggles.

It was always a tricky thing; even practitioners like Eugenie were not always fully aware of the Supernatural.

They joined the other seven guests already seated around a round table, complete with a glowing crystal ball and deck. Eugenie assumed her dramatic persona and swept at the head of the table, pinning her victims with an imperious stare.

“Evening dear friends; I will deal your fortunes tonight. The hand may be true or false, but bewarned that once it is spoken, it becomes yours!” A faint shiver ran through the unwary at her warning, and she smiled widely. “Now, who dares to go first?”

Kimber nudged his hostess and whispered. “What say you, Mme Devereux?”

Allana shook her head. “There is no need for deal or dare -- I make my own fortune.”

This was truly her belief, and the conviction in her words carried across the gathering. The others looked from her to the priestess, who raised a slow eyebrow.

“How admirable of you, Allana, to be the master of your fate.”

“You make it sound so difficult to do,” she returned with a casual shrug. After a beat, Darrin cleared her throat.

“Well would anyone mind if I volunteer? There’s no harm in that, leastways.”

Eugenie inclined her head. “But of course, Darrin.” She extended the deck to her reach. “Just shuffle; no thoughts or worries in your head.” The other woman did as she was told, and then returned the deck.

The priestess smiled and began dealing the cards, one after the other. With the darkened ambiance and flickering lights on the table, only one who was paying very close attention would have caught the emotions that swiftly played on her face, the frozen instant in her eyes and the tiny gasp that escaped her lips as she surveyed the spread.

“Well? Should I go off to the horses,” Darrin began with a laugh and Allana tossed her head dismissively.

“I cannot see why, you don’t truly believe in these things anyway.”

Eugenie looked up amidst the other woman’s protests and gathered the cards back into the deck. “Well in that case, you are not a suitable candidate.” She pointed to someone else at the table, who started at being suddenly singled out. “The Spirits have chosen you instead.”

The rest of the session went on without incident and the priestess eventually took her leave of the club. She spent a few hours of the early morning in each of her establishments, checking the books and discussing with her managers. They could tell that she was not her usual self; she was distracted, the numbers had to be detailed twice. It was almost dawn when she wearily returned home, greeting the butler with a stiff smile. All was quiet in the household, her twins were abed, but Monseiur was yet to turn in, he reported. She shrugged offhandedly and turned toward her study with instructions not to be disturbed.

It took her more than a heartbeat upon crossing the threshold, to realize that something was amiss. Her hand stilled over the amulet as instinct whispered that she was not alone.

“Hello Eugenie.”

The priestess recognized the voice, frowning into the darkness as her fingers found the light fixture. “Allana?”

The chandelier came to life to reveal her erstwhile hostess parked on her chaise lounge.

“What -- how did you get in here?”

Allana lifted an expansive shoulder. “I have my ways.”

The study, indeed the entire house, was fortified with all sorts of wards and charms against intrusion. She had no doubt that in any other circumstance, dreadful and likely painful retributions would have assailed her upon crossing the threshold. However, one fundamental flaw of nominal voodoo was that it had little effect on one who was already dead. Still, the Vampire was not one to leave anything to chance; Eugenie was not the only Priestess in the city after all.

She watched as the human’s initial alarm cooled off to calculation and resolve, and allowed herself to be impressed by her mettle. Eugenie nodded once and took a step closer.

“Well, since you have taken the trouble to stalk me in my own home, I imagine there is something to this visit.”

Allana made a sound of assent. “I reckon we have unfinished business.”

“Oh, in what way?” The priestess shrugged off her coat and fluffed her hair as she walked around to the head of her desk.

“The reading you have for Darrin, I want to know what you saw.”

Eugenie stiffened and frowned. “But I thought you don’t believe in such things. What was it you said? You make your own Fortune.”

Allana got to her feet; in the space of an instant, she closed the distance between them. She savored the other woman’s startled gasp, reaching out to cup her face in her cool hands. “I do, but you believe in what you do. Whatever you read in those cards frightened you greatly, and I want to know why.” She leaned closer until they were nose to nose, breaths almost mingling. “Let’s not play around the subject, we both have an interest in Darrin.”

Eugenie flinched and she smiled. “Oh I know, you’re in love with her. It is perfectly understandable; she is very attractive, and you are a beautiful woman … with a very permissive husband.”

From this close range, Allana could hear the quickened heart, pounding like a drum. She could feel the jolt of adrenaline that surged through her quarry, the tension that widened her eyes.

“I see how you look at her every time, how you make love to her with your eyes, peeling of her clothes layer by layer. I can tell how much you want her, your eyes linger too long over her lips, her breasts… what wouldn’t you give for just a taste? I wonder; do you pleasure yourself, thinking about her?”

Her smile turned mocking, her voice lowered to a husky timbre. “Alas, she is oblivious to your devotion. And you hate me for it. But it is quite all right, you have a right to your feelings. I’m sure you are not the first person, nor the only one for that matter; Darrin is like a hanging mirror which everyone must gaze at. In fact, I am very flattered that you feel so strongly about her.”

“Did you come here just to taunt me,” Eugenie whispered, face flushed with emotion. Allana chuckled and shook her head.

“I am above such pettiness, Madame Trudeau. Let me ask again, what about that spread had you so afraid?”

Still the Priestess hesitated and she paused consideringly. “You are unwilling to speak of it because that will surely give it life, make it immutable.” She released her hold and stepped back. “Well then, in that case, this has been a waste of both our times. I thought you had more faith in your skills but apparently Vodoun has no cure for cowardice. Good night, Eugenie, I hope you visit us again soon.”

“Darrin is going to die,” Eugine spat out and she paused at the door.

“She is going to be betrayed, and hunted, and she is going to die.”

Allana turned around to meet the other woman’s defiant gaze as she continued.

“And you, for all your ways and words and power, can do nothing to stop it.”

The vampire took in her accusation with a wry twist of the lip. ”If that is all, then let me tell you something. Darrin belongs to me, body and soul; that is why I feel nothing but pity for you and your desires. She is mine to do whatever I please, and I have set the world at her feet.” She snapped a finger, and every door in the house slammed open. Eugenie jumped and she chuckled. “Know this Eugenie: if Darrin’s life is ever taken, then it can be only by my own hands.”

With that, the Vampire bled out of the Priestess’s vision, out of her reality.