Page 20 of Up in Smoke

Sandro chuckled and claimed the chair to my right. “I told you I would take good care of my vixen.”

“I’m allowed to fret all I want. How do you feel, Jade?”

“Hungry.” I pointed at Sandro. “Why are suits designed to make men overly attractive?”

“They need all the help they can get, ma chéri. He does better than most in a suit. Lean and handsome for your enjoyment.”

I bobbed my head. “If I took his collar off, someone might think he’s available, then I’d have to start cutting hands off with Peace.”

Ryleigh raised a brow. “I see you have been reduced to a questionable state due to your hunger.” Reaching across the table, she picked up a small silver bell and gave it a ring. “As you were an active participant in Sandro’s performance of the symphony, I took the liberty of preparing a feast for your enjoyment. My sister queens have divined the location of a choir here in New Orleans. They will not bother anyone again. Would you like their heads?”

“Ew. No. Feed them to a gator or something.” I shuddered at the reminder the Voodoo queens made use of their victims’ body parts if the spirits of New Orleans offered their blessing or otherwise encouraged it. If the city herself stirred, the body part was a head, and it became a fetish, shrunk with magic to serve the vanquishing queen for the rest of her life. “Did any of your sister queens claim any heads?”

“The leader of the choir, their twisted composer, will serve New Orleans well for many a year.”

Sandro shuddered. “Now I’m glad I obeyed all the rules, if part of the punishment involves becoming a fetish for a queen.”

“You’d make an admirable fetish, for your power is most potent. Alas for us, your vixen is worth more to us than your head,” Ryleigh teased. “Alive, Jade, so relax those ears of yours.”

I patted the top of my head, realizing I’d flattened my ears, probably at the thought of joining a collection of shrunken heads. “What started the whole shrunken head thing anyway? That’s not practiced as part of Voodoo, Vodun, or any of the similar cultures. Why is it done here?”

“Tsantsas was originally practiced by the indigenous people of Peru and Ecuador. It came here and was adopted by some practitioners of Peruvian descent, children of one of the practicing tribes. New Orleans is many things, but it is a melding of many cultures. Tsantsas now only happens at the will of the city herself or the spirits defending her, and they spoke strongly of this conductor, this leader of that dark song we silenced. It was as you described on the phone, ma chéri, and they will find no forgiveness here for their sins. We have taken all of their tokens and use them even now to hunt down the rest, but we can tell you one thing. The heart of the darkness inflicting Tulsa is to be found in Tulsa.”

“Mansfield,” I grumbled. My fox wished to chitter her agitation, but I kept her quiet. “He got the dumb idea to try to put all the hybrid foxes up on auction, too.”

“Hybrids are proving to be quite potent in terms of magic and potential, and their children are just starting to come into their prime. Mansfield likely saw an opportunity, and it would let him acquire a strong population of foxes in his Asylum.” Ryleigh huffed and lifted her nose. “For breeding purposes. How uncouth.”

Sandro chuckled. “Yet you were okay with her being sold to my family.”

The Voodoo queen sniffed. “Your family is well known for its courtesan practices. She was sold to be adopted into your family, to help you run it when your parents retire, and you must win her much like your mother had to win your father. It seems she likes you well enough. Your mother would beat you if you mistreated her, so I am confident she will be given many opportunities to be happy.”

I laughed, as I could easily see Stephani Moretti taking a belt to Sandro’s ass if he even thought about abusing any woman. “He likes to wander, Ryleigh.”

“Yes, I have had to restrain you by your collar many a time so you wouldn’t go out on the street and scavenge rather than eat properly prepared food here, because you had convinced yourself you hadn’t earned it. Do try to contain those unhealthy habits, Sandro.”

“I have standards, and they will be met. I will tolerate eating food from a can only during certain camping trips, otherwise she must tolerate properly prepared food.”

“He makes salsa, Ryleigh,” I breathed, staring at the Voodoo queen with wide eyes.

“I see he has already cast some charms upon you. Do try to provide him with a little challenge, ma chéri.”

“I did!” I allowed myself a smug smile, eyeing the hot ass bounty hunter. “You chased my beautiful tail for how long before finally beholding me in all my sopping glory?”

Sandro laughed. “Years. I started on your bounty fairly early, and no matter how hard I tried, you kept a step ahead of me. Worse, you did it without knowing you evaded me. You just made certain nobody could get their hands on you. Absolutely infuriating, really. But you were rather wet when I did catch up to you. I had regrets about my status as a gentleman. Between your soaked ears and tail, I had an unreasonable urge to take you home, pamper you, and keep you.”

Well, that was direct, even for him. “I bet I could ask Ryleigh for a bucket of water.”

“I am sure he is striking in a wet shirt,” the Voodoo queen said, and she cleared her throat, probably so she wouldn’t laugh at us. “Eventful first meetings are always a delight. I would divine your future, except I wish to be as surprised as you when fate catches you both. There is something to be said about the allure of a good mystery. That, plus I’d rather save my power for your problems in Tulsa. Those are far more important.”

They were. “It seems fairly obvious Mansfield is either behind it, or he’s an accomplice of some sort. But if his goal is to take over the Alley, he’s not the only person participating.” I clacked my teeth together so I wouldn’t chitter my agitation over the man out to destroy the home I’d picked for myself. “I just don’t understand why he’d kill so many people.”

“I doubt we will ever understand the madness born of insatiable greed,” Ryleigh replied, and she reached over and patted my hand. “But we will do our best to save your home as you have done your best to save mine. And even if six months of your aid is insufficient to do what New Orleans needs, I know you will do your best. The city whispers her contentment over your promise, and the spirits rest easy now that you and your songbird have bought us time. I will pray that our work will be enough for your suffering Tulsa.”

When I made it back to the Alley, I’d even apologize to Mother Nature for blaming her for the sins of another—and scold her for being manipulated by a bunch of assholes.

In the meantime, I would do what I could to save the dying city I loved.