The Devil's Daughter Complete Box Set, page 102
part #1 of The Devil's Daughter Series
“I figured as much.” Doodlebug wondered how the others had been so stupid as to not check the island, but then, they had been a little preoccupied at the time. “So you’ve just been squatting out in the swamp?”
Aloysius had a sulking shadow-hugging countenance that was more like a homeless person than a devil. “The best place to hide is somewhere that’s already been searched.”
“But why hide at all? You’re the devil.”
His sneer had all of the menace of a sick rabbit. “What does that even mean? If I get hurt, I can heal the wound. I can also manifest this body into any age I want, but those aren’t exactly superpowers.”
Doodlebug sat on the couch pressed at a precarious angle against the wall. “Doesn’t your great-aunt have big plans for you?”
“Why do you think I’m hiding? I’m a pawn pretending to be a king.” He leaned against the wall with his arms folded. “How much do you know about my family?”
“More than I’d like to,” Doodlebug said, hoping to cut that line of conversation short. She hadn’t enlisted the swamp assholes and spent the day on the water just to listen to a family history.
“Those people that surround Sere are real idiots. Have you noticed that?”
At least he hadn’t started off at some point in the distant past. “While I agree with you, why would you say that?”
“They gave my ancestor exactly what he wanted.”
Though any form of education that didn’t involve staying alive bored her, she couldn’t help wondering where he was going with his story. “I assume you mean Baron Malveaux. From what I’ve been told, they dragged his sorry ass to the deep waters.”
Aloysius scrunched up his face and shook his head “That was his own damn fault. After having gone through this transformation, I’ve had some time to consider my ancestor. He was the most powerful man in New Orleans—impressive but hardly a world leader. Then he stole a magic cane and took over Guinee. Again, that’s nothing to sneer at, but ruling purgatory doesn’t qualify as being a god, and gaining the position through theft doesn’t equal being qualified for handling the responsibilities. Even so, he was just a gatekeeper for the halfway house between the living and the dead.”
Doodlebug fell back against the cushions. “You’re starting to bore me.”
He either didn’t notice her irritation or didn’t care. “Those busybodies gave him what he wanted most. They built a whole damn dimension then dumped his soul into it. He didn’t work to become hell’s devil. The title practically fell in his lap.”
She hadn’t thought of it that way, but then, she’d never worried too much about what hell had been like before she manifested into it. “I still don’t see how that has anything to do with you hiding out in the swamp.”
“My great-aunt doesn’t want to just copy what our ancestor did—she wants to surpass him.”
“Boring.” Doodlebug drew out the vowels to express her annoyance.
“Baron Malveaux returned to life from hell with the expectation of ruling over it—achieving the ruling trifecta. To one-up him, Marjory wants to rule all three dimensions simultaneously.”
Though the story still didn’t explain anything, Doodlebug could see how the pieces fit together. “So that’s why she left her doppelgänger in hell?”
“Now we’re getting somewhere.” He uncrossed his arms and started waving his hands as he talked. “She can’t bond with her mirror and leave her in hell at the same time. And she can’t become an immortal in that body without her puppet.”
Doodlebug bit her lip while thinking, which was not an activity she enjoyed. “You think she wanted your body? That’s rich. She already stole Sere’s.”
“You think she wants to spend eternity in the form of that skinny, skanky slut? Our family has spent generations of breeding to achieve the perfect body.”
Puke, Doodlebug thought. “A little full of yourself, aren’t you?”
He pushed off from the wall and spread his arms as if displaying his magnificence. “Actually, no. I didn’t have anything to do with this body. That’s partially my point. I don’t matter. My soul-spirit-body combination is complete. When she’s ready, Marjory will inject her soul into me as a parasite intent on taking over my host body. I’m not delusional. She’s a far more powerful spirit than I am. I’ll end up spending eternity in some dark corner of this brain as nothing more than the mechanic holding things together. With her banking connections and no time restrictions, she’ll take over a lot more than just New Orleans.”
Doodlebug could see where Aloysius was headed. “As an eighty-year-old woman, she’d never command the kind of political power she would as an attractive thirtysomething man.”
“So now you see the first two legs of her plan—control of hell and control of life.”
Of the three interconnected dimensions, the voodoo realm had never interested Doodlebug in the slightest. It wasn’t as if her spirit was ever going to be cast into the hands of the loas of the dead. “That leaves Guinee. I don’t see how she could expect to take on those loa holes.”
“That’s what you need to figure out. I can’t be expected to have all of the answers, but if she has taken over Sere’s body, that would be a powerful bargaining chip. At the very least, it should be enough to get Baron Samedi’s attention.”
Doodlebug looked around the dingy dwelling. “And what about you? You must want something, or you would never have agreed to becoming immortal.”
“That wasn’t my idea. I’m just trying to survive. I suppose I’ve got too much of my grandfather’s ethics in me, or maybe it was my connection to you. Either way, I’ve got no stomach for what Marjory has in mind. Immortality was like a carnival prize, or maybe I was the stuffed animal. I don’t even know anymore, but now that I have it, all I can see are the drawbacks. I don’t want to live forever.”
“So you’re saying you are not a devil?” Doodlebug’s views were becoming muddled. She’d believed in a clear delineation between a doppelgänger demon and a devil out to take over the world of the living. The former would have acquired self-will but succumbed to hell’s influence, and the latter would be determined to spend all eternity achieving dominance. But this conversation with Aloysius made the two categories swirl together in her mind.
He looked around the room. “Clearly, right now I’m not a threat to anyone. Given time—which I have an unlimited amount of—I could acquire the knowledge, money, and power to take control. The ambitious quickly discover that they have a very short lifetime relative to their desires. But let me ask you: what if someone wasn’t out to rule the living? Would you still consider that immortal a devil?”
“You’re referring to Sere?”
“Or me.”
As a doppelgänger, all she knew were the driving forces of surviving hell. “I don’t know if focusing on the good would be sustainable. I can only define a devil by his deeds. While you were burning my spirit in the fires of hell to achieve immortality, I considered you a devil. Now I’m not so sure.”
He lowered his head and nodded. “I’m sorry for what I put you through.”
Apologies weren’t something Doodlebug understood. They required empathy, and in hell, it was every doppelgänger for herself. She took hold of the tattered armrest of the couch and pulled her body off it. “You did what you thought you had to do to survive. I was there when Marjory cast your soul into hell. You might be an aggressive asswipe, but I’m not sure I’d have done anything differently. And since you’re not a threat, I need to move on to those who are.”
“I just want to go back to my life. Can you do that for me?”
Doodlebug had enough trouble guiding her own existence. “I’ll let Sere and the others know of your situation. That’s the best I can do for you. I’ll also keep your location a secret for as long as I can.”
He walked with her out to the porch. “I won’t ask what you’re going to do, but if you run across my grandfather, let him know I turned away from Marjory’s evil plan.”
“If our paths cross, I’ll let him know.” With Aloysius standing at the railing, Doodlebug scaled back down the tree to join up with Riley and Cody. “He’s promised to stay in the cabin.”
Cody turned his overweight body toward her. “And you believe him?”
“He’s hiding, not plotting. It would appear that Sere guessed wrong again. Just the same, if he shows up in town, you’d better let me know.”
Riley slung her rifle over her shoulder as they headed back to the boat. “What should we tell Sere or Bart?”
Unable to keep a secret, Doodlebug said, “At the moment, they’re too busy to worry about that immortal little pissant.”
Cody nearly toppled his johnboat getting into the back. His tonnage lifted the bow off the shore. “If you’re finished, I’d like to get back to work.”
She wondered if that involved gator hunting or drinking, but as he was the provider of her transportation, she didn’t want to offend him and end up swimming back to civilization. She followed Riley into the boat. “I appreciate your help.”
He fired up the motor and backed it away from shore. “I just hope I’m not paying for that crawfish bounty for too much longer.”
Riley swatted him on his bare knee. “Just remember Sere’s warning. No hunting out here.”
“You don’t have to remind me.” He threw the throttle to the limit.
Doodlebug walked with Riley away from the dock while Cody secured his boat. “That takes care of my first chore.”
Riley grabbed the upper roll bar of her doorless Jeep and swung her butt onto the driver’s seat. “Is that your way of asking for my help?”
“Well, you swing that rifle around like a teenage boy playing with his cock. I’d hate to deprive you of the opportunity to discharge it.”
Riley pulled the weapon from around her shoulder and secured it in the rack mounted to the roll bar. “For a recent immigrant from hell, you understand me a lot better than Sere ever did. It’s been a decade since I wandered down to New Orleans, but I’ll take you down there if we’ll be doing some hunting.”
Doodlebug climbed into the passenger seat. “I don’t know what we’ll find, but Marjory has to be concerned that Aloysius didn’t show up with the others. She’ll either be anxious to create a new immortal for her experiments or desperate to find the one that got away.”
Riley pulled the seat belt between her breasts, making them stand out even more prominently. “From what I understand of Marjory Laroque, her bank must be the most secure building in New Orleans. What if she’s got all of her little playthings locked inside? There must be a more vulnerable spot to hit her.”
Doodlebug admired how fast Riley was able to cut to the heart of the problem. “You’re right. We’ll never be able to break into the institution. But she’d never put all of her rotten eggs in one basket. I’ve already been to the Laroque mansion once in hell. It’s more of an opulent showcase than a guarded fortress.”
Riley fired up the engine. “Two sexy country hicks might stand out in the Garden District, but I doubt they’ll consider us a threat. Think up a way in while I drive.”
96
Chapter 11
Sere glided on the hurricane winds that whipped up the river. She wasn’t crazy about leaving Bart to handle the incursion. Though he was clearly skilled in all manner of mercenary operations, hell played by its own rules—though even in human form, she wouldn’t have been any better equipped to sneak into the Laroque mansion. The truth was that flying, flaming, and fighting were much more her style. I’ll make for one hell of a distraction.
She swung her wings in a couple of firm flaps to get clear of the circling birds below her. If Sanguine could keep the Cormorant busy, at least one powerful force would be out of her scales. Though having the Cormorant harassing her could be useful in drawing Marjory out of her lair, Sere preferred not to deal with the two women intent on keeping her out of her body. Preventing them from joining forces could be a full-time job for someone with a lot less to lose.
She shook her head, letting the pounding wind howl in her ears. Worrying about how others were going to handle their ends of the operation only served to occupy brain power that was best used for figuring out her own part in the attack. She needed to get Madam Laroque as far from home as possible, bringing her personal guard force along for the ride.
First Sere needed to get the woman’s attention, and she knew exactly how to exploit her weak point. Being second best at creating dragons had to be pissing Madam Laroque off. Seeing a forty-foot dragon when all she’d managed to create were a couple dozen fire-breathing seagulls would mean she’d be anxious to learn the secret of how Smoke managed to be so impressive.
Sere had to find Madam Laroque’s scaly flock of miniature flameheads. She circled the cemetery, expecting to find the baby dragons playing among the tombs. All she saw was the carnage of goblins that Bart had left in his wake. She didn’t for a minute believe that the old bat would give up after having her latest patch of carrier pigeons singed. There must be another flock around here somewhere. I hope she hasn’t yet learned from her mistakes. I’m already in hell. I don’t need to walk into yet another of her traps.
With Bart getting ready to make a move on the mansion, she chose to avoid the most logical spot for Marjory’s horde to be taking flight lessons. “Here, little dragons,” she sang. “Come meet your demise.”
She considered the possibilities as she made a pass over the bank. A doppelgänger freed from the life of its real usually gravitated back to where the shadow was originally cast. A goblin with far less mental capacity would likely be even more drawn to the siren’s call. Sere couldn’t imagine that Marjory would hold the new drug addicts in the same basement as her latest batch. That confirms that I can avoid the mansion. Where else would she hide kidnap victims? With Marjory wielding all of the money and power of the Laroque dynasty, the options seemed limitless.
As Sere glided along the river, Sanguine’s white wings caught her attention. When she focused in on the scene, she realized it wasn’t the purity of their color that called out to her. Flames were scorching the tips of her feathers.
The sight of her angel in danger turned everything around Sere into the true flames of hell. She dove so fast toward the battle that the billowing fire from her nostrils covered her head. At the river’s wave crests, she pulled out of the dive and shot straight at the battle between the Cormorant’s birds and Marjory’s dragons. Like the idealistic fool she’d always been, Sanguine flapped her wings between the two forces, trying to mediate the conflict.
Get out of my fucking way! I’ll burn the lot of them to ashes with one breath. Though she was successfully able to control her verbal outrage, her nose and mouth formed a flamethrower that she was powerless to direct.
Like a meteor, she shot above the aerial combat. Stretching out with her talons, she plucked the first two creatures she could reach and tossed them to the ground. When the birds screeched their protest, she realized she’d failed to snatch a dragon. She beat her wings to get back into the heat of the battle. Though the handful of dragons had fire on their side, the birds outnumbered them five to one. If Sere was going to side against Madam Laroque’s force, she was going to have to be more careful in what she grabbed.
“They’re coming in from the convention center.” With sword drawn, Sanguine dove between Sere and a flock of black birds. “You need to stop them at the source. I can deal with these baby flamers.”
Sere would have been just as happy to destroy both Marjory and the Cormorant’s forces, but then, diplomacy had never been her burden. “Watch your wings.”
Sanguine spread them to the driving rain. “For once, the hurricane is working in my favor.”
Sere headbutted a small dragon so hard it crashed through a brick wall on her way out of the melee. She made a quick scan for the Cormorant, but like Marjory, the head of the military-like force had chosen not to participate in the battle.
She shot down incoming dragons like she was playing hell’s video game as she flew toward the long buildings that nestled under the dreaded World Trade Center. Though they tried shooting fire at her, not one of them had a third of her flame-throwing ability. Madam Laroque must have Mickeyed a whole aviation convention, she thought as the dragons kept on coming. When they started showing up already on fire, Sere knew the woman had taken her regenerations too far. The professor’s equipment needed time to reset after a doppelgänger’s demise. To force them back too soon risked also calling forth whatever had originally destroyed them.
Sere settled on Convention Boulevard and walked along the long glassed-wall building. As she blasted the area, glass burst into molten shards that set the nylon carpet on fire, creating a malodorous smoke that billowed out both sides of the building and hid the roof.
“You’ve made your point,” a voice said.
Sere extinguished her latest burst then turned toward a black limousine with an irate old woman standing at its grill. Sere rose to her full forty feet. “Your attempts at copying me are just pathetic. I expected better.”
Madam Laroque leaned on her cane. “You’re not fooling me, Sere Mal-Laurette. I know your soul is inside that animated toy.”
Though Sere hadn’t made any attempt at hiding, she did wonder how the woman had figured out her true identity so fast. “What gave me away?”
“I’m the queen of double meanings. Your comment about being copied could either be about that dragon form or your immortality. Plus, a true dragon lost to its demon urges wouldn’t have stopped blowing flames. Now that you have my attention, what do you want? Obviously, I’m interested in learning the secret to creating full-sized dragons.” The woman sure knew how to cut through the bullshit.
“You and your real need to stop trying to make immortals.” Sere didn’t see any point in drawing out what were sure to be failed negotiations. Just start lying so we can argue our positions long enough for Bart to grab the totems.
