Witch's Fury, page 7
“It’s not that,” Gilly said, and then she quickly wiped away a tear that had slid down her cheek. “It’s when I said ‘carnage.’ I hope to all that’s in the universe that isn’t what we find when we locate Viv.”
Gavril didn’t comment. He knew that although Gilly could feel if her sister was alive or dead, he had to let her feel, period. He remembered all too well how it felt when they’d lost Ronan. Yes, there’d been a job to do in protecting the Originals and Triad from the Cartesians, but it was difficult to stay focused on a responsibility when your feelings were swamped with grief.
Traffic broke up about ten minutes later, and it took Gavril another fifteen to get to Chalmette. He drove through the center of town, looking for any sign of a carnival. All he saw, however, were people going about their daily jobs. No signs, no banners, no indication that a carnival had been or would be coming to town.
He saw a Denny’s up ahead and turned to Gilly. “Hungry?”
“Not really,” she said, still staring straight ahead.
Gavril knew she hadn’t eaten that day, since they’d been together for most of it. “Tell you what. I’ll go in and grab us a couple of burgers. We can eat them while we drive around town and check things out.”
Not looking at him, Gilly nodded, and Gavril had the feeling that he could have said anything and she would have nodded the same way.
Gavril went into the restaurant, intending to get more than a couple of burgers. If anyone knew about a carnival being in town, it would be a waitress. Carnivals meant hungry people, so it only made sense that the restaurant would fill up more than normal.
“How ya doin’, hon?” an elderly woman with short grey hair and a yellow uniform said when he walked inside. The name tag over her left breast pocket read Reba. “Place is pretty empty right now, so help yourself to whatever seat you’d like.”
“Thanks,” Gavril said, “but if you don’t mind, I’d like a couple of burgers and two Cokes to go.”
“No problem,” Reba said. She then wrote up his order and stuck it on a spinning rack for the short-order cook.
“Heard traffic was tied up real bad out there,” Reba said. “Construction or accident?”
“Accident, unfortunately.”
Reba tsked. “Everybody tryin’ to get somewhere too fast, that’s the problem. That and textin’ on those doggone phones instead of watchin’ the road.”
Gavril nodded in agreement, and then figured it was as good a time as any to hold Reba’s attention.
“I heard you guys had a carnival in town,” Gavril said. “Is it still up and running, or did they already break down and head out?”
Reba frowned. “Hon, I don’t know who told you about any carnival, but I ain’t seen one around this town for nearin’ ten years.”
“So no carnival or circuses, nothing like that, huh?”
She shook her head. “The only clowns we got around here are some of our regulars. Now I wouldn’t tell them that to their face, you hear what I’m sayin’?” She twirled a finger near her right temple, indicating someone with a screw loose in the head. “But it ain’t hard to tell they ain’t quite right. As for real clowns, like in a circus, no, hon. Same as with the carnivals. Ain’t seen one around in more years than I can count.”
“What about in a town near you, like Arabi, places like that?”
Reba raised one of her penciled-on eyebrows. “No. Not there either. You know, you’re mighty curious about carnivals, circuses and the like for a man your age. Wanna tell me what you’re really looking for?”
At about that time, a bell rang, and the cook behind the counter all but shouted, “Order up.”
“Aw, well, ain’t my business no how,” Reba said. “Your burgers are ready.” She grabbed the bag of burgers, brought it to Gavril, and then took two Coke cans out of a glass fridge and placed them in a plastic bag. “Here ya go, hon. That’ll be twelve ninety-five.”
Gavril grabbed his wallet out of his back pocket, pulled out a twenty and gave it to Reba. “Keep the change,” he said with a smile. Then with burgers and Cokes in hand, Gavril hurried out of the restaurant before Reba could ask any more questions.
When he reached the black Camaro Nikoli had chosen as their rental, he noticed the passenger door was open and no Gilly.
Gavril tossed the food and drinks into the car, fear causing his heart to pound against his ribs so hard it hurt.
“Gilly?” he called.
No answer.
Gavril all but raced around the gas pumps, hoping she was standing on the other side of one. Nobody around but an elderly bald man filling up a battered blue pickup.
“Gilly!” Gavril called louder, turning in circles, hoping to get sight of her.
“You looking for that pretty, black-haired woman who was in your car?” the elderly man asked.
Gavril sucked in a breath. “Yes. You’ve seen her?”
“Sure. Don’t see how you didn’t. She walked right into the restaurant not long after you did. Figured she was either going to pay for gas or had to go to the john.”
“Thank you,” Gavril said, and took off at a near run, back to the restaurant. Just as he opened the door, he almost collided with Gilly.
“Jesus!” Gavril said, feeling like he could breathe for the first time in minutes.
“What’s wrong?” Gilly asked. “Did you find out anything? Did you talk to anyone? Anybody that might have seen Viv?”
Gavril took Gilly by the shoulders, pulled her toward him until the doors to the restaurant closed behind them, and then pulled her close. “I couldn’t find you,” he said softly. “I thought I’d lost you.”
Gilly pulled away slightly so she could look him in the eyes. “A girl’s gotta pee sometime.”
Gavril shook his head and grinned with solid relief.
“Any word on a carnival?” Gilly asked. “I saw you talking to that waitress. I was hoping she might have known something.”
“Nothing,” Gavril said. He let go of Gilly’s shoulder, took her hand and led her to the car. “Burgers and Coke in the front seat.”
“Nothing as she didn’t see anyone who looked like Viv, or nothing on a carnival?”
“No carnival. In fact, the waitress claimed there hadn’t been a carnival or circus in this area or the surrounding towns in quite a number of years.”
Gilly grabbed the bags of food and slid into the passenger seat.
When Gavril settled into the driver’s seat, instead of turning the engine over, he simply sat and gazed out the window.
“What now?” Gilly asked. “What the hell do we do?”
Gavril didn’t look at her for a moment, thinking. Finally he glanced over at Gilly and said, “You know how you and your sisters have special sounds you make when it’s time to change Originals at feeding time? You know, take out the Nosferatu and bring in the Loup-Garous?”
“Yeah.”
“Have you tried calling Viv like that? You and Evee, I mean. Maybe if the two of you try, she might hear you, or more importantly, you might hear her.”
“It doesn’t work that way. What we do is not a mating or come-hither call,” Gilly explained. “It’s just an animal noise we copy to let the others know it’s their turn.”
Gavril chewed on his upper lip for a second, almost fearing the repercussion that might come with his next question. “Have you and Evee tried doing a come-hither spell? Do you even have one of those?”
Gilly frowned at him, anger flashing in her eyes. “Of course we do, but it’s for those we command or for something we need. It’s not used to call one another. It wouldn’t work.”
“Have you ever tried it before?”
Gilly narrowed her eyes, and then turned to look at the dashboard. “Actually...no.”
“Then how do you know it wouldn’t work?”
Taking a deep breath, Gilly sat back in her seat. “Fine, I’ll talk to Evee, see what she has to say about it.”
Gavril turned the engine over and headed out of the parking lot. “Don’t be angry with me,” he said. “I’m just trying to think of anything, everything possible we can do to try and find Viv. Even if it means using a spell that’s never been used for that purpose before.”
“Easy for you to say,” Gilly said. “You’re not a witch. Things can go wrong if you use spells that aren’t used for a specific purpose. Every spell has one. And every spell has a consequence tied to it.”
“So you think it might put Viv in even more danger since you’ve never done it before?”
“Hell, I don’t know,” Gilly said and slapped the dashboard. “Just get us back to New Orleans. I’ll talk to Evee. If it’s a go for her, I’m game. If she refuses, it’s a no go. We’ll have to try something else.”
“Like what?” Gavril asked.
“Praying.”
Chapter 7
Instead of following Highway 46 back to New Orleans, Gilly insisted that they head east, in order to check out the smaller towns near Chalmette. Since they were out this far, anyway, she didn’t want to miss the chance that some carnival had gone through a small town, even if only for a weekend.
Along the way, they made stops at cafés, dollar stores and gas stations. Sometimes, depending on the location, Gavril would get out and ask about carnivals in town. Other times, Gilly had been the one to leave Gavril in the car while she questioned clerks or waitresses. They drove from Chalmette to Meraux, and then to Poydras, where Gilly got out of the car and went into an old convenience store, its shelves nearly bare. She thought about grabbing a bag of chips for a snack, but then checked the expiration date. April of last year. Knowing she was being watched by the clerk behind the counter, she held back an “Ugh!” She then went over to the small man with dark skin and eyes. Not once did a smile light his face.
“Excuse me,” Gilly said, trying to act nonchalant. “We heard there was some kind of carnival or circus in this area. Have you heard of it? Do you know where it might be?”
“You buy something?” the clerk asked frowning.
Gilly grabbed a pack of Juicy Fruit gum near a display case by the register. “Just this,” she said.
“One dollar, forty-two cents,” the clerk said.
Gilly gave him a double take. “A dollar and forty-two cents for one pack of gum?”
He nodded. “You pay or put it back, please. I keep my store very clean, as you see. Everything must have its place.”
Infuriated by the price gouging, Gilly pulled two bucks out of her pocket and tossed it on the counter. She waited while he slowly counted out her change.
“So do you know of a carnival or circus around here?” Gilly said.
The clerk handed Gilly her change, made sure she’d only taken one pack of gum, and then shook his head. “No. We have no such thing here. You want party, you go to New Orleans. They always have party in that city. We have party only one time a year.”
Gilly’s ears perked up. “When?”
“What do they call Fat Tuesday here?”
“Mardi Gras?”
“Yes, that would be the party. It’s chaos, I tell you. People fill up all the towns near here. They steal from my store. I know this to be fact. Last year, I found boy with a beer can in his pants. He tried to leave the store, but I caught him. Caught him and called the police. He must go to jail, I tell the police. He must go to jail.”
Gilly’s expectation bubble deflated. Mardi Gras was still five months away. No carnival. No circus.
“Anything?” Gavril asked when Gilly returned to the car with the pack of gum, which she abruptly threw out the window. For all she knew, it might have had an expiration date of May 5, 1909.
“Nothing but some pain-in-the-butt guy. Wouldn’t even give me information until I bought something from his damn store.”
“You talking about the gum you just pitched out the window?”
“Yeah. Everything in that place was so old, the gum probably carried botulism.”
“So, I take it, gum or no gum, he doesn’t know of any carnivals or circuses.”
Gilly shook her head. “The guy said the only party they had in town was during Mardi Gras, and that’s five to six months away.”
Gavril laid a hand over the steering wheel and sighed. Gilly laid her head back on the seat, closed her eyes for a few seconds, and then she opened them and stared at nothing.
“I just can’t figure it,” Gavril said. “Why would Moose talk about things that sound like they’re from a carnival, yet we can’t find one that’s happened around here for months?”
“Hell if I know,” Gilly said, looking straight ahead.
“What now?” Gavril said as he shoved the gear into drive. “Hmm, other than rain.”
As if waking from a dream, Gilly looked over at him, and then followed his gaze to the windshield. Black thunderheads had rolled in, and beyond them lay a heavy sheet of gray. The wind had already started to pick up, threatening to rock the Camaro from one lane to another.
By the time they hit Meraux again, the windshield wipers were going at full speed, but were seemingly as useless as a rosary in a Baptist church. Gilly couldn’t see car lights in front of her.
“Can you see anything?” Gilly asked. “Car lights? Flashers?”
Gavril, who was white-knuckling the steering wheel, shook his head. They were barely managing a five-mile-per-hour crawl. “We’re going to have to pull off somewhere until this calms down,” he said. “The last thing we need is to rear-end somebody or have someone rear-end us. The eighteen wheelers aren’t helping either. They’re producing so much spray that, even with mud flaps, it’s like driving through twice the amount of rain.”
Gilly agreed, putting a hand on the dashboard when a set of break lights suddenly appeared in front of them, less than a foot away. She resisted an instinct to put a protective hand out toward Gavril, like a loving mother would a child. He was definitely not a child, and she was no one’s mother. But loving was what made her hand want to shoot out to protect him. That she felt to her core.
Gavril inched the Camaro along until they came up to a gravel road about two-hundred feet ahead. Lightning sizzled through the sky, and thunder boomed seemingly from every direction.
“What is that?” Gilly asked, pointing to a large, dull red building nearly five-hundred feet or so off the main road. It had no front door, just an open space in front of the building, wide enough to drive a tractor—or a car—through.
“Looks like a barn. See any houses near it?”
“Hell, I can barely see it,” Gilly said. She scooted up to the edge of her seat to get a better look through the windshield and pressed her face against the passenger side window. “Don’t see anything but the barn. No houses. No cars or trucks. Just that old building.”
“Good,” Gavril said, and before Gilly knew it, he squeezed the Camaro through the front opening of the building and drove until they reached a solid-wall cattle gate.
Rain pinged off the tin roof, but it was nothing compared to the sound of driving through gushing water.
Gilly got out of the car, closed the passenger door and stretched her arms and legs. “Man, oh, man, I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen a gully washer like this one.”
Gavril followed her out of the car. He did a quick survey of the place. Stables, but no horses or cows. Above them was a semi-circle second floor with bales of hay piled on top of one another.
“You were right about the hay,” Gilly said, motioning overhead. “I wonder why there’re no cattle here.”
“Farmer might be grazing them in another pasture. Hopefully he’s taken the hay he’s needed for the day.”
“But wouldn’t he bring the animals in because of the rain?” Gilly asked.
“Cows and horses, unless you’re talking high-bred stock, are used to the weather. It can be raining buckets, and they’ll either be lying under a tree or still grazing grass. Wet doesn’t seem to bother them much.”
Gilly walked toward the open end of the barn, wanting to get closer to see if the rain appeared to be slacking. A bolt of lightning struck just outside, and thunder made the ground rumble beneath her feet. The rain had not only slacked, it had intensified, blowing sheets of rain drops the size of raisins.
She crossed her arms over her chest, lowered her head, and walked to the back wall of the building, thinking...thinking. Only there wasn’t a damn thing to think about. She’d always known Moose to be a little slow in the brain department, but at least he had brains. She wasn’t able to look past what Moose saw to get a handle on the location of these intense colors. The only thing that made sense was a carnival or circus, only she hadn’t been able to see that to make it a fact.
Aside from attempting a come-hither call as she’d promised Gavril that she’d try with Evee, the only other option that came to mind was trying to contact Moose again to find out if one of the other dead Loups was with him—one that might be able to give them clearer directions.
Suddenly, Gilly sneezed. She was surprised to find herself shivering. It was too early in the fall for it to be cold, but the rain, together with the wind, made it feel like she’d been dunked in thirty-degree water.
Evidently, seeing her react to the cold, Gavril took off his shirt and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“But you’ll freeze,” Gilly protested. “You need to put it back on, or you’ll wind up with a cold or pneumonia.” Gilly felt slightly embarrassed because the entire time she addressed him, she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off his chest, his ripped abs and his huge biceps.
Gilly took off his shirt and handed it back to him. “Please, for me. I’ll be worried sick that you’ll catch your death, and then what will we do without you?”
Gavril gave her a slow shake of his head and put his shirt back on. “I’ll wear it,” he said, “but we need to find a warmer place before I wind up having to take care of you in a hospital.”
