Zamani (9 page)

Zofia allowed her to feed
alone, helping her to understand when to stop to prevent harming Silas.
 
She was grateful for Zofia’s presence as
Silas’ submission to her was complete, and she could have easily gone too far,
draining him. She felt all of Silas’ self as she fed; she realized later that
donors were trained in much the same way that she had been trained to contain
their feelings and desires.
 
While
she’d felt the magnified raw lust and desire from Steph, she’d not seen her
life in pictures.
 
She realized in a
flash that while Steph’s feelings and desire were palpable to her it was only
that way because Steph had allowed her to feel it.

As she fed on Silas, she
realized that donors had to keep barriers up or they’d have no private identity
or life to themselves.
  
She
saw flashes of Silas’ life--both moments of bliss and moments of despair. And
she saw what had driven him to seek her and Zofia out.
 
He’d recently split from a lover who’d
cheated on him rather than having the decency to leave.
 
He’d found her in his bed with another
man.
 
Rather than cancel their plans
for a trip to New Orleans, he’d arrived alone and set out to forget her.

And he had chosen Sasha--he
wasn’t aware of it, but it was that reckless despair that had drawn her to
him.
 
She took comfort in the thought
that she was helping him move past the hurt and betrayal.
 

But she wouldn’t take him
past it all.
 
She could sense him
wanting her to end him, to just let him slip off into the ether, but she pulled
away, just as Zofia was about to stop her.
 
She pulled back from him and kissed him on the lips softly, leaving a
blush of his own blood on his lips.
 
“Sweet Silas, you’re better off without her.”
 

She and Zofia led him to the
bed and made him comfortable.
 
He
was sleeping peacefully as they slid out the door and back into the night.
 

Zofia still had to feed, and
she wanted Sasha to have time to reflect, as well. She knew that this was the
first time that Sasha had been in the outside world on her own since her
awakening, and now that she was well-fed she would not desperately seek out
prey.

“You did very well; you are
welcome to join me as I hunt so I may feed, or you are certainly welcome to
occupy yourself.”
 
She gave Sasha
one of the keys for their Suite at the Monteleone. “This is our home base, and
we can catch up once we’re done for the night.
 
I sense you are ready for a some time on
your own.”

Sasha nodded.
 
Zofia kissed her on the cheek,
surprising Sasha with her sudden warmth and affection.
 
“You should be fine since you’ve fed.
 
That doesn’t mean you can’t feed more or
occupy yourself however you please, but since your initial hunger has been
sated you should be able to roam freely.”
 

“I do feel more like myself
than I have since Lucy found me; I also understand now why it was so important
for me to feed so soon.
 
Thank you,
Zofia, for helping me.”

Zofia smiled and stepped
into the light pedestrian traffic on Conti and quickly disappeared, headed back
into the heart of the Quarter.
 

As she wandered in the same
direction that Zofia had gone, Sasha wondered again where Liz was and what she
was doing tonight.
 
She thought she
might go by The Ruby in case Liz was tending bar, but first she wanted to make
sure she wasn’t recognizable.
 
She
headed toward Canal in hopes of some of the souvenir shops being open and
selling masks.
 
She was in luck, as
several of the shops were still well-stocked with cheap masks and costume
accessories.
 
She picked the best
mask she could find, one with fine feathers and the least amount of sequins and
glitter.
 
It fit her well and
covered all but her mouth and chin.
 
She picked up a shiny, gaudy red lipstick as well, something she’d never
have worn as Alex.

She felt more comfortable
strolling through the Quarter with the mask on.
 
She’d dressed simply for the evening and
earlier had felt underdressed and exposed among the costumed revelers.
 
Now she felt as if she didn’t stand out
quite so much.
 
She decided to test
the waters by heading down to Oz where she used to tend bar before going to The
Ruby.
  
She knew the boys would
be too distracted by each other to pay mind to a woman alone, so she felt she
could fade into the background even if she saw some of the regulars in the bar
from when she worked there.

She’d guessed correctly that
the boy bars on the end of Bourbon would be full to capacity.
 
She did manage to squeeze her way up to
the bar and order a drink from the bartender.

It felt good to be in a
familiar setting and to feel completely free.
 
The loud thumping of the music and the
energy the patrons gave off were comforting and energizing at the same
time.
 
The bartender asked if she’d
like another, and she nodded.
 
That
was when she heard Kirby’s voice behind her.
 
She felt herself jump, at first worried
that he had recognized her, but then quickly realizing that he’d never know from
the back of her newly blonde head that it was her, especially since he thought
she was dead.
 
She relaxed and
looked over her shoulder.
 

She’d assumed that Kirby was
right behind her, his voice had been so clear.
 
Instead, he was several feet away, separated
from her by several bar patrons.
 
He
was talking to Mike, and it was clear from their body language that they were
still quite enamored of each other. She was glad for them both.
 
Mike had been so torn up over Tim’s
death, and the new relationship with Kirby was good for him.
 
And Kirby had never taken to someone the
way he had Mike.
 
She saw a similar
affinity between them to that she’d had with Liz in the early days of their
relationship.

She turned back to her
drink, not wanting to be obvious about staring at them.
 
She closed her eyes and concentrated on
listening, picking their voices out from the loud music and the hum of the
crowd.
 

“Everything just happened so
fast; I know that it’s best for her to get away for awhile, but it feels like I
lost both of them,” Kirby said.

Mike put his hand on Kirby’s
shoulder.
 
“It’s hard enough for us
to stay in the house, even though we had the room cleaned, and I know Wren is
not coming back for us.
 
I’m glad we
have my apartment as an escape.
 
And, while there was room for all of us in my apartment in the short
term, it’s better she’s with her dad.”
  
He paused and reassured Kirby that
Liz would return once she’d had some time.

Sasha finished her drink and
left cash on the bar to cover her tab and leave a nice tip.
 
She wanted to see Liz, but now she felt
a sense of relief that it wouldn’t be a case of running into her on the street.
They both needed time to process what had happened and to move forward.
 
She decided to steer clear of The
Ruby.
 
Instead she headed into the
Marigny and toward her old house.
 
Knowing that Kirby and Mike weren’t likely to disturb her and that Liz
was gone, she decided to take a look at the place where Wren ended life as Alex
knew it.
 

As she left the Quarter
behind and crossed Esplanade, she could hear some of the people inside their
apartments and houses winding down for the night, strains of music of all kinds
drifting on the night air.
 
The
house she’d shared with Liz, though, was silent and dark when she reached
it.
 
She wondered how long there had
been the bright yellow crime scene tape or if they’d even really bothered with
it.
  

She slid around to the back
of the house, which was a typical single-family shotgun style cottage.
 
Just as she hoped and expected, she
found the spare key in its old hiding spot, shoved in the dirt in the middle
hanging fern.
 
She slid the key in
the kitchen door lock and let herself in.
 
For a moment she stood still in the kitchen, listening to the
house.
 
She’d never really believed
in ghosts or residual energy, but now that she was one of the undead, she was
reconsidering.
 
The house felt
different than before, but she wasn’t sure if it was truly the house or if she
was so amped up that she was imagining the difference.

She moved through the house,
making her way from room to room; if it weren’t for the fact that she’d have to
explain herself, which likely would go over poorly and end in arrest and
possible commitment to the psychiatric ward, she could have just moved back in.
 
Nothing of hers had been disturbed, as
far as she could tell.
 
Her clothes
were still hanging in the closet, minus a couple of her favorite shirts. She
figured Liz packed them and took them with her.
 

The bed was made and she
could just make out the smell of Liz’s shampoo on the pillows.
 
She longed to slide between the sheets
and sleep until Liz came home to wake her up and laugh at her crazy dream that
she’d been made a vampire.

She moved to the nightstand
on Liz’s side of the bed.
 
She
opened the drawer and found what she was looking for--a pair of sapphire studs.
She’d given them to Liz for her birthday their first year together, and Liz
loved to wear them on date nights and special occasions.
 
She was surprised Liz hadn’t worn them
for the memorial service, but now she was glad that they were in the
drawer.
 
She pocketed one of them
and left the other behind.
 

She looked around, trying to
find paper to write a note. It was her only way to say goodbye. She couldn’t
leave it in an obvious place, but she wanted to be sure that Liz found it. She
finally decided to leave it under the remaining earring.
 
She kept it simple:

Liz, know that you are well loved.
 
Alex

She slipped the note in, and
she pushed the drawer not quite closed.
 

Then, she slipped through
the dark rooms and out the back door, returning the key to its ferny hiding
spot.
 
She took long strides to put
distance between herself and the house.
 
She walked with her hands in her pockets, her fingertips just brushing
the sapphire stud.

Electric Ladyland was open
still on Frenchmen Street.
 
She
wandered in and talked with the piercer on duty about an auricle piercing.
 
He wasn’t thrilled that she insisted on
the stud in her pocket rather than buying a piece of jewelry from the shop, and
he warned her that the post really should be bigger than the one on the earring
she brought in, but she persuaded him it would be fine.
 
She didn’t want him to sterilize it,
wishing to keep the contact with Liz’s DNA that was likely left on the post,
and he was easily persuaded once she exerted just the right amount of mental
control over him.
 
A single tear
rolled down her face as he slid the needle expertly through skin and cartilage
before placing the stud. It was a tear of sorrow, not of pain.

By the time she made her way
back to The Monteleone, her ear was healed. She had more drinks at the bar,
hoping to get drunk enough to pass out but only managing a really good buzz.
She decided that would have to be enough and went up the suite and slept.

Chapter
Thirteen

As with all holidays and
feast days, New Orleans takes the Day of the Dead and gives it extra
flair.
 
Among the various parades
and second lines that popped up in the city the Bywater hosed one complete with
a marching band and revelers with their faces painted skull white. Those
attracted many tourists and the uninitiated.
 
For Voodoo practitioners and adherents
there are also “Dumb Suppers” and Voodoo rituals to honor the dead.

Sasha woke up to Zofia
staring at her.
 
She wondered if the
other woman had said anything or touched her; she literally felt as if her
stare was palpable.
 
Neither woman
said anything as Sasha sat up in the hotel bed and rubbed her eyes.
 

Zofia finally broke the
silence. “Good morning, or I should say afternoon. I know you could have made
it home easily last night, but I wanted you to myself today; Lucy will get you
back soon enough.
 
Tonight, we will
honor the dead among people who don’t fear them.”
 
She stood and opened the closet door
where she had hung outfits for the two of them, ritual white with purple head
scarves.
 
“While I am not a
practitioner of Voodoo, I do appreciate the beauty of the religion, so we will
dress appropriately.”
 

They took a cab to get
closer to the ritual spot, which was in the Bywater, close to the Mississippi
River.
 
While this was a public
ritual, it was not a tourist spectacle.
 
The ceremony had been going on in the same spot for as long as anyone
could remember. Some claim the original Marie Laveau herself started the
tradition, and others argue it began even before her by her mentor and teacher
Maman Dede.
 
Zofia told the story to
Sasha in the back of the cab, the driver listening to her, too, both of them as
silent and attentive as children listening to a new bedtime story.
 
Sasha could sense the driver knew the
story, but he was happy to hear a new version.

He dropped them near the
ritual location at a storefront.
 
Zofia
led Sasha into the store where she bought packs of cigarettes, candy, flowers,
and a bottle of rum for the altar.
 
“Normally, I would have prepared well ahead of time, but this will
do.”
 
She led Sasha a few more
blocks until they reached the ritual space.
 
As they neared it, they could hear
voices and under the buzz, the sound of a lone drum, beating out an infectious,
hypnotic rhythm. Sasha felt herself speed up her steps as the drumming caught
her up.

The ritual space was an
alleyway.
  
Despite the
nearness of the Bywater to the Marigny, Sasha had no idea that this place
existed, but it obviously had for some time, as there were Veves painted on the
walls of the wide alley and many of them were quite old. They were pale and
ghostly compared to the others that were obviously fresh.
 
Past the Veves and paintings of skulls
and the distinctive figure of Papa Legba was an altar overflowing with
offerings.
 
Zofia and Sasha laid
their gifts among the others.
 

When Zofia offered Sasha the
outfit of white and showed her how to tie the headscarf, she’d felt strange,
but now she was glad for the anonymity and that she looked like the other
attendees.
 
She was intoxicated by
the energy in the space. For the first time since her awakening, she felt fully
connected to something, her feet firmly grounded. Up until she fed from Silas
the night before she’d been detached.
 
While her time with Steph was physically pleasing, she’d felt numb to
emotion.
 
She also realized why
Zofia had brought her here; the people were open like conduits.
 
Like her own mind had been when she
first awoke, all of the minds here were open, and all egos were set aside so
they could listen.
 
Something about
the energy and the rhythm created by the drums created a trancelike state--even
with the sounds, it was quiet in a way that Sasha had not experienced since she
awoke. And through those conduits, she could feel again.

The drumming stopped. Sasha
saw a beautiful woman in front of the altar that created the end boundary of
the alleyway.
 
She looked young to
Sasha, but she gave off the sense of having great power.
 
She was also dressed in white and
purple, but she seemed to truly belong in the skirt and head scarf.
 
For a moment, Sasha felt silly in her
outfit—like a kid playing dress up next to the regal woman at the altar--but
the feeling passed quickly as the woman began to speak.

“I want to thank all of you
for joining us for the Ceremony of the Ghede. I am Vivienne Garnier, and I will
be officiating the ceremony tonight.
 
Most of you know my grandmother, who will
be joining us tonight, Marie Garnier.
 
She welcomes you too but has asked that I speak to you tonight. My
brother, Christophe, will lead the drummers, and you’ve been called here by his
drum already.”
 
As she mentioned
Marie and Christophe, she motioned toward them.
 
Sasha saw the family resemblance immediately.
 
She also noticed that while Marie’s and
Vivienne’s minds were completely closed off to her, Christophe’s was chaotic
and disordered.
 
She felt as if he
was staring right at her, despite the people between them.

Vivienne continued to speak,
but Sasha only heard parts of what she said as she was focused on Christophe,
trying to figure out why he was so different from everyone else around her.
 
She felt Zofia grab her hand and squeeze
it and she came back to herself, pulling herself together.
 
She heard Zofia’s voice in her mind tell
her she felt it too:
there is another vampire
among them and he is obviously not well trained, as he has no clear
control.
 
That’s why his mind is so
disorganized.
 
Focus on Vivienne.

“Tonight we honor the dead
and ask them to dance with us.”
 
As Vivienne
said this, the drumming started again.
 
As Christophe led the drummers into the rhythm, Sasha noticed that his
mind cleared. She felt great relief, sliding back into the quiet that the music
created.
 
Those around her started
to dance, and she and Zofia slid even further to the edges of the crowd.
 
As she watched the dancers undulate and
spin, she felt pure joy for the first time since her awakening.

The dancers were also caught
up.
 
As the drumming increased,
someone started singing in Creole, and others picked up the song, their voices
rising in unison.
 
Sasha couldn’t
understand the words, but the song was beautiful. She felt a sensation of
slipping aside, letting her guard down again and opening up.
  
Zofia clasped her hand and pulled
her toward the street, away from the altar and back out into the night.