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“You can. You will. Now go.” He shoved me forward.
“I can’t pay this back.”
“It’s not a loan. I don’t lend money. Because then I’d have to hurt people I like.”
Maybe the money would help. Maybe it would be enough. Or maybe I could find somewhere to turn it into more. Two hundred was a lot, but I wasn’t under the impression that it did anything more than put a small dent in my issues.
An old-timer walked up to me. “Dude,” he said. “You better listen to that guy.” He made a weird finger movement. “He’s one of dem. He’ll find you.”
“One of them?” Jude was already gone when I looked around.
“Yesh…” He smelled like alcohol. “He a bokor. Magic man.”
That could actually explain a few things. But not everything. I didn’t know if this old guy was telling the truth, making shit up, or having delusions. But I’d seen too much in the last couple of nights to not heed his warning. “Yes, sir. I’m listening to you, man.” I pointed at the old timer, tapped my chest with my fist full of cash, and then shoved it in my pocket and headed home.
My landlord, Mr. Walsh, counted out the money. His face turned red, and I thought he was going to explode. Then he sighed heavily. “This isn’t enough. Rent is more than two hundred bucks.”
“I know. But I’m having a hard time, and I’m trying. This is a start. I swear.”
“Start for what?” Walsh held up the money as if it didn’t make sense to him. Maybe it didn’t. It didn’t make much sense to me either.
“I’m trying to do better. To be better. I found someone and—”
“Ah…well. You found a man, huh? Love will make you do all kinds of things. The way I see it is either you’ll push through and become that better man, or it’ll break you. Sure hope you do the right thing, kid.”
“I’m trying. I’m gonna try.”
“Okay. For love. I’ll give you a chance. You have two more weeks. Now go.” He waved his hand at me as if brushing me off. I didn’t know what to think of that. First Jude, now Walsh. Both giving me a chance. A chance I never gave myself.
I went back to my place. Through the front door this time. It kind of felt nice. But I was at the end. Tired, hungry, sweaty. It was hot out, as usual. I took a shower and crashed, sleeping the rest of the day. I woke up before the sun went down, still exhausted and hungry, and I had no clue what else to do. The only thing I could. I got dressed and headed out into the city.
Realizing I was heading to the riverfront, I slowed down. It was half an hour later and the sun was trying to set as I stood on the stairs across Decatur Street from Jackson Square. A lineof mule-pulled carriages lined the way, their drivers hoping to score a fair. The cathedral loomed over everything. Café Du Mond was down the street, and a little beyond that was where I’d left Luc at the river, tucking the ring in my pocket. I missed the hell out of him, but I was afraid to put the ring back on. Afraid he’d be mad, but worse, that I had so completely let him down. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so hopeless in my life. Even when my mother died. She had been my tether to a normal world. She was kind. She helped people. But when she needed help, there was no one.
Then there I was. All alone, facing the world, but I’d already learned how to survive. And she was no longer around judging me and the stupid choices I made. I gambled away my life after that.
Until Luc.
Hotel Royal
I turned away from the riverfront. I didn’t want to think about Luc. I couldn’t. No matter what happened with him, I couldn’t go back to gambling. I needed to figure out what the hell I was going to do with my life before I could even think about helping him. If I got my shit together, maybe I could get that payment. Somehow. Though I was clueless at the moment.
Wandering around the French Quarter has often been inspirational in my life. So much was always going on. Tourists come here all year round. The partying never ended, but that wasn’t my scene. Artists plied their wares along the outskirts of Jackson Square, and I loved seeing their creativity. At this time of night, though, a lot of them were packing up to go home.
Without thinking about it much, I wandered around, finding myself near Lafitte’s Blacksmith shop. I’d avoided it earlier, not wanting Luc to deal with spirits that might have been there. He had mentioned talking with others, but I was selfish and wanted him all to myself. It was the oldest building in the Quarter, so I was sure if anywhere had other spirits, it would be that bar. Farther down the road, a tour group was listening to their guide talking about all the horrors of the city. Murder and mayhem on the menu. I chuckled. It was history. Our history. On sale for whoever was interested enough to buy into it.
The city grew darker, but it was never completely dark. The street lamps, either electric made to look like gas or the real deal, came on. I passed a three-story brick with fancy balconies decorated with Mardi Gras banners and ribbons. Another with massive ferns dripping over the railings and rainbow flags flying. I might have been walking the blocks in circles, but it didn’t matter. I loved this city. Loved living here. The flavor, the color, the history. But sometimes, it felt like it chewed me up and spit me back out.
What was I doing? I walked by CC’s Coffee House and stood at the corner, staring at the buildings across the way and their lovely architecture. I was pretty sure one was a hotel, though it had a fancy art gallery on the first floor. And my favorite vampire strolled right out of it. He saw me and crossed the street.
“You following me now?” he asked, but he held out his hand, so I shook it.
“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. But I’m not following you.”
“You know, they made that stupid TV show about us there.” He flicked his wrist back the way he’d come. “That’s the building they used for a lot of the scenes. One across town they used for the opening. It’s prettier. Odd I find you here.” He shrugged.
“Not so odd, maybe. This whole city is vampire crazy.”
“Indeed.” He looked at me, tilting his head. “How’s your spirit friend? Luc, I believe you said?”
