Blood Red (3 page)

She looked up at the sky. Clouds still rode heavy over the moon, like a red curtain in the air.

She studied Susan. The woman was soft spoken. Elegant. Not at all what she had expected. Her pencil moved over the paper. She drew the lines first, then filled in the shades and shadows. Finally she added background, the greenery around the Square, the sidewalk, the tent, the statue of Andrew Jackson rising far behind Susan's back.

“Ugh! What does that mean?” Heidi asked, drawing Lauren's attention to the table, where Heidi had turned up a card with a skeleton.

“It's…death, isn't it?” Heidi asked.

Susan shook her head. “It often signifies change, an ending so that there can be a new beginning. You are about to end your single life. You will start into a new life.”

“Whew,” Heidi murmured. Though she spoke lightly, Lauren thought she was seriously relieved, and she felt a new wave of discomfort.

“What's that?” Deanna asked, pointing to another card.

“Love.” Susan looked at Heidi. “You can rest assured in this—your fiancé loves you very much. You are all he has ever wanted, all he could ever need in life.”

“Oh,” Heidi breathed happily. “Ditto.”

“Yes, I can see,” Susan murmured.

“Will the wedding go off without a hitch?” Heidi asked.

“No wedding goes off without a hitch,” Susan said dryly as she scooped up the cards, patting them back into a neat pile. “But you are deeply loved, and you love deeply in return.”

“Thank you.” Heidi rose and looked at Lauren with an expression on her face that plainly said,
See? Nothing to be afraid of.

Lauren smiled back weakly, wondering if Heidi had really been listening. Susan hadn't said anything specific about Heidi's wedding at all—she had just generalized about weddings. And she had said the skeleton card often indicated a change.

Then again, Lauren told herself, maybe
she
was the one hearing words that weren't being said.

“On to the palm,” Deanna said. She and Heidi changed seats. As Deanna started to sit down, she glanced at Lauren's drawing and frowned.

“What is it?” Lauren asked.

“Uh, nothing, I guess. It's a great drawing. It's just that…well, you made the skeleton card the focus of it.”

“I did not!” Lauren protested and looked down at the sketch. It was one of her best, she thought. She'd captured not just a two-dimensional image but given it great depth. She'd found the strange and arresting beauty that was Susan's. She'd caught the atmosphere of the Square. You could look at the drawing and almost hear music.

And yet…

Deanna was right. Somehow she had detailed the tarot card down to the finest line so that it unerringly drew the viewer's eye and became the focus of the picture.

“Don't draw me,” Deanna whispered to her.

“Okay,” Lauren assured her quietly in return.

Susan was watching them both. Deanna noticed and gave her a rueful smile. “Lauren was engaged once.”

“And her young man died,” Susan said.
Wow, damned good guess,

Lauren thought irritably. Though it was a fifty-fifty shot. Either they'd broken up or he had died. She knew that she was just one of many young women of her day. She'd fallen in love with a soldier. He'd gone to war. They'd emailed for six months, and then she'd stopped receiving replies.

Until the army lieutenant had come to her house.

She'd gone through it all. The devastation, the anger. And the healing. She didn't feel that she had any terrible psychological hang-ups. She just wasn't actively looking to find love again. But if the right person came along…

Would she be ready?

She really didn't know.

“I'm so sorry,” Susan said to Lauren gravely. She was clearly sincere, making Lauren feel vaguely guilty, though she wasn't quite sure why.

“Thank you,” she said, ignoring her uncomfortable feelings. “But, hey, that's the past, and we're looking to the future, right? What does Deanna's hand say to you, Susan?”

Susan studied Deanna's palm and looked up gravely.

“What?” Deanna asked impatiently.

“So far, it has told me that you do not like housework at all,” Susan said.

Even Deanna laughed. “Okay, I suck. Seriously, I'm really bad at it, so I gave it up.”

“Don't worry, she has a wonderful woman who comes in twice a week,” Heidi assured Susan.

Susan traced a finger down a line in Deanna's hand.

“The life line, right?” Heidi asked.

Susan shrugged.

“It doesn't look very long,” Deanna said worriedly.

Susan shook her head, looking at Deanna. “Often, things are what we make them. The line…it's like the card. It might not mean anything bad at all. It signifies change. A change in life. Heidi is getting married.”

“I'm not even dating steadily,” Deanna said.

“You're a beautiful woman,” Susan said, sidestepping.

“What else do you see?”

Susan pointed. “Here…artistic success. You are clever and determined.” Susan looked up and stared hard at Deanna. “When you set your mind to something, you can make it happen. When we fail, far too often, it is because we're afraid. Remember, you have the talent and the will. Don't be put off by circumstances that seem dire. You are very strong. And there will be changes.”

“Will I ever get married?” Deanna asked.

Susan shrugged. “Your palm is not telling me. I can say that you are passionate and giving, and that you are quite capable of creating fire, passion—and love—around you.”

“I like that,” Deanna said.

Lauren looked at her, trying to avoid Susan's eyes.
Lots of people could have said that to you,
her stern gaze said.

“Your turn,” Deanna said.

“Ah, the crystal ball for our talented young artist,” Susan murmured. She didn't move, though, and her eyes were downcast.

“I think Susan is tired,” Lauren said.

“Oh no, you are
not
getting out of this!” Heidi insisted.

“May I see more fully?” Susan asked.

Lauren handed her the drawing she had done.

“You are very kind,” she murmured. “You have caught me on paper with great beauty.”

“I want to work more on it. I'll send you a copy when I'm done,” Lauren told her.

Susan nodded and handed back the drawing. Lauren flipped her sketchbook closed and returned it to her purse.

“It seems like you've had a busy night. You look tired. You really don't have to do another reading,” Lauren said.

“She's trying to get out of this,” Heidi explained.

Susan stood. She wasn't smiling. “I think that we must look into the crystal ball.”

Heidi and Deanna started to rise.

“There is only room in the tent for one—I'm sorry. The crystal ball is quite different from the palm and the cards.”

Susan waited gravely, and at last Lauren followed her into the tent, the sounds from the street and the night receding. As she sat in the chair opposite Susan, the world outside all but disappeared.

“Your fiancé, he was a soldier?” Susan asked, staring into the crystal ball.

Startled, Lauren looked at her. “Yes.”

“I'm very sorry, truly. But…there are those who believe there are certain fates we cannot avoid, and others who believe we have a hand in our own futures. Perhaps many people lived because your young man died,” she said softly.

“Thank you. I like to think that,” Lauren murmured.

“You don't date much.”

“I've dated.”

Susan smiled enigmatically.

“What?” Lauren asked.

“You don't date much because you feel that you meet nothing but dimwits and users since you lost your man.”

“It's hard to meet the right person.”

They had been chatting casually, almost as if they were engaged in a normal conversation at any one of the smaller cafes or bars in the city. But Lauren realized that something had been subtly changing since she had come into the little tent.

The crystal ball had begun to glow, to fill with a red mist.

She stared at it, unable to tear her eyes away. She only dimly noted Susan's face, registering as if from a great distance that the other woman looked tense, even distressed.

“You must leave here…you and your friends…must go.”

“Yes,” Lauren said.

But she couldn't move. It felt as if she were frozen where she sat, as if her very muscles were paralyzed.

There was something dark at the core of the crystal ball, dark and red, finding form as the milliseconds ticked by.

It was a bird. A winged thing.

Then it was not.

It took the shape of a man. Tall, the face dark, the figure imposing.

A sound seemed to rise in her ears, and she realized that it was laughter. Deep, rich, taunting-and cruel.

She heard words.

So soft at first that she couldn't understand what was being said. Then she knew.

“I'm coming for you. I'm coming to get you.”

“No,” Lauren murmured, struggling for sanity, for reality. Someone had heard them talking earlier. Someone had heard the words that Deanna had spoken teasingly.

“Lauren…” The dark figure called her by name. “I'm coming to get you, Lauren….”

“No!”

“I'm coming to get you, and you'll be mine in a world of blood and death and darkness.”

Susan suddenly jumped up, as if she, too, had suddenly broken of the invisible bonds holding her there.

She made a strange sound and her arm flew out.

The crystal ball flew off the table and shattered on the ground.

But even as it flew into a thousand pieces, it seemed to Lauren that she heard a husky whisper of evil laughter.

S
he wasn't sure how she'd gotten there, but Lauren found herself outside the tent. It seemed so normal now, nothing more than a little red canvas tent again.

She was back outside just as if they had finished their session completely normally,, as if she had casually strolled out after hearing some nice normal prediction for her future. She was back outside, in the midst of the neon light and movement of the night. The very
normal
night. She could hear footsteps and laughter, bits of conversation, the sound of mules' hooves as they clattered on the pavement, drawing carriages filled with tourists.

Both Heidi and Deanna were staring at her in surprise, and that wasn't normal at all.

Lauren turned to look back inside the tent. The images she had seen now seemed ridiculous, but the shattered crystal ball was there as proof that
something
out of the ordinary had happened.

“Lauren!” Heidi said, shocked. “Susan, we're so sorry. We'll pay for your crystal ball, of course. What on earth happened?” She stepped forward, slipping an arm through Lauren's, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I knew you weren't exactly into this, but did you have to break her crystal ball?”

“It was an accident!” Lauren protested.

It
had
been an accident-and she hadn't even been the one to break it. But beyond that, she couldn't have seen what she thought she had. She had been tricked. It must have been some kind of a parlor trick, though that seemed impossible now, with all the light and noise around her.

Even now, the details of what she had seen, what she had heard, were slipping from her mind. She tried to hold on, but they were all escaping her. And she was beginning to feel like a fool.

Was she worse off-mentally or emotionally-than she had thought?

No!

Susan was still staring at her. And she didn't seem to be concerned about her crystal ball but about Lauren herself.

“Where are you girls staying?” Susan asked.

“The Old Cote,” Deanna said.

Susan frowned in puzzlement. “I don't know it.”

“It's a lovely place, made up of several cottages. It was kind of a family compound before the storm, but they've opened it up as an inn now as way to recoup some of their losses. The grandmother—the family matriarch, I guess—is enjoying it, so I guess the place will stay around for a while. I found it on line,” Deanna said, her enthusiasm for their little discovery evident.

“But where is it?” Susan asked.

Deanna seemed a little surprised by the fortune teller's persistent tone. “Off Conti and a good bit back from Bourbon, luckily. The noise is great when you're part of the party, but when you're trying to sleep, it can be a bit much.”

“You have to move. Move into the biggest, most crowded hotel, and room together, stay together, until you can get out of New Orleans,” Susan warned.

“But we're not leaving,” Heidi said. “Not for several days. This is my bachelorette party.”

Susan shook her head, a look of dismay on her face. She stared at Lauren, and Lauren knew that her own expression must have shown the woman that she was already feeling silly and skeptical, as if she had been the target of a trick—or a joke.

“You have to leave.”

“Oh, please,” Deanna said impatiently.

“I'll pay you for the damages,” Heidi said, starting to sound irritated.

“You came for readings. You've had them, and now you have to leave,” Susan said.

Heidi pulled out her wallet and tried to give Susan money, but the woman only backed away. Heidi set the money on the table, shaking her head. Then she linked arms with Lauren, pulling her away. “You do not get to pick the fortune-teller anymore,” she said, dragging her along.

As they put some distance between themselves and the Square, Deanna burst into laughter. “Didn't you feel as if we had just walked into an old horror flick?”

“I'm sure she was going to tell us to beware the bite of a werewolf any second,” Heidi agreed, and then she, too, burst into laughter.

“And you! You fell for all her tricks,” Heidi told Lauren.

“I did not,” Lauren protested, but silently she was thinking,
Yes, I did. It was creepy as hell in there.

She felt like an idiot now, though, as they passed Royal Street, nearly at Bourbon. Bands were playing loudly from several corners, the sound of jazz mixing with rock.

“We need a drink,” Heidi said. “Name your poison.”

“Meow,” Deanna said.

“What?”

“The Cat's Meow. Karaoke,” Deanna said.

“You must be joking. We suck,” Heidi said.

“And that's why we're perfect for karaoke,” Deanna said happily.

“I need a lot more to drink for this,” Lauren said. The two of them had her laughing, buit karaoke was no more her style than mystical readings. “Wait!” she said, stopping in her tracks and forcing the others to stop, too.

“What?” Deanna asked.

“I'm only Heidi's slave. Heidi, you don't really want to sing karaoke, do you?”

“You bet I do!” Heidi said.

Groaning, Lauren found herself dragged into the bar.

It wasn't that bad. The host was a handsome, well-built black man with an exceptional voice. His choice of music was great; the place was hopping. The entire room actually seemed to enjoy the rendition of “Summer Nights” that Heidi and Deanna laughed their way through.

But when the two of them left the stage, Lauren was glad to see that they were feeling the effects of the noise and the crush of humanity, and were ready to go before she had to make a fool of herself in public. They left the club and headed for a darker place with soft jazz that was just down the street.

“Order me another one of those fizzy things I was drinking,” Lauren said to Deanna when they had found a table. “I'm off to find the restroom.”

She left her friends and made her way through the tables. When she reached the hallway that led to the facilities, she was startled when she ran straight into a man. She hadn't even realized she'd been walking with her head down, deep in thought. Still, she wasn't sure where he'd come from as she plowed straight into him.

Apologizing, looking up at last, she backed away.

He was tall, two or three inches over six feet, and definitely well built—she had almost bounced off the muscles of his chest. His hair was dark, a moderate length, and even in the shadowy hallway, it was apparent that his eyes were a deep and striking blue. She thought he was somewhere around thirty, with ruggedly striking chiseled features: high cheekbones, a long, straight nose, determined jawline and a high forehead. His mouth was generous, the kind that could harden into a thin line or curve into a quick smile.

He wasn't model-pretty. He had the look of a man who lived, and lived by his own rules, heedless of others' opinions.

“I'm sorry,” she said, realizing that she was staring at him.

But then again, he was also staring at her.

“Kate,” he murmured.

“Pardon?”

He took a step back, deep eyes almost burning into her. “No, I'm sorry,” he said. “You reminded me of someone. My mistake. Sorry,” he said again. But he didn't move, and he was still staring at her.

As if he really did know her.

But he couldn't possibly. She would have remembered if she had ever crossed paths with him before.

“I…uh, need to get by,” she said softly.

“Of course,” he said.

But he was still staring, and she felt a blush rising to her cheeks.

She didn't know him, she was certain.

But she would like to.

She could introduce herself, of course. They were in a bar. People did things like that in bars. Some of them even went to bars specifically for the purpose of meeting people.

Some people did things like that, but she didn't. She hadn't dated in…well, only once since Ken had died. She hadn't been able to work up any interest in the print shop owner Deanna had decided she had to meet. She just hadn't been attracted to him. Maybe her feelings had still been too raw, the sense of loss too new. She had been completely in love with her finance. He had made her smile, made her laugh. And she had been attracted to him from the start. There had been nothing wrong with the print shop owner. He just hadn't been Ken. She just hadn't been attracted to him.

But this stranger staring at her, this man she didn't know from Adam?. She
was attracted to him
.

She flushed at her own thoughts. Some people picked up strangers in bars.
She
didn't, not at this stage of her life. She was here for Heidi.

She smiled. “Honestly, I didn't mean to ram you. And I do need to get by.”

“Right. Sorry” He stepped aside.

She walked past him, heading for the door marked “Madames.” She couldn't help but turn back.

He was still watching her.

Great. She was heading into a ladies room in a dimly lit corridor and a good looking but possibly very weird guy was watching her.

She entered, closed the door and leaned against it. There was no lock on the door, only on the three individual stalls.

I should go back, make Heidi or Deanna come with me,
she thought.
I'm going to be attacked in a restroom on Bourbon Street.

She was being ridiculous, she told herself. It was just the uneasiness left over from her experience in the fortune teller's tent. The woman was probably still laughing at the three of them. She probably ought to report Susan to the tourist board. Imagine! Trying to scare them, telling them to leave town. That was hardly good for business.

She opened the door a crack and peered out.

The man was gone. She was relieved.

And also disappointed.

She let out a sigh, irritated with herself for still feeling nervous.

She was so nervous, in fact, that she took her time, unwilling to go back out into the club right away. She splashed her face with water after she washed her hands, reminding herself that she was being ridiculous. When she finally left the restroom behind, there was no one in the hallway.

The bar had grown more crowded while she was gone. As she wended her way through the crowd, she could see that Heidi was alone at their table. Frowning, she noticed Deanna was at the bar, chatting with a tall dark man. For a moment her heart thudded. Was it the same man?

No, not unless he had changed his shirt. The man she had met had been wearing a tailored shirt; this man was dressed more casually.

She started toward the bar and her friend. Deanna had definitely imbibed more than she had Tonight, and she wasn't sure she wanted to let her friend get too close to a stranger in that condition.

On the other hand, Deanna wasn't the one getting married. She was free to flirt if she chose.

Apparently she was simply worried in general tonight, Lauren thought. She headed for the bar, but as she did, the man turned and headed out to the street.

“Hey There,” Deanna said as Lauren reached her. “Her majesty wanted more cherries for her drink,” she said with a grin.

Lauren forced a smile in return. Deanna didn't seem all that drunk, she thought. In fact, she seemed more pleasantly tipsy than anything else. “Cool,” Lauren responded, then asked, “Who was that?”

“Who?” Deanna frowned and flipped back a length of her long dark hair.

“The guy who was just there.”

“Oh. Just a guy.”

“Cute?”

“Yeah, kind of.”

“And?”

“I told him I was with friends tonight,” Deanna said. And she laughed. “I'm a big girl, so don't worry about me.”

“I wasn't worried,” Lauren lied.

“Yes, you were. And you still are. You're still tense.” Deanna looked at her and sighed. “We shouldn't have made you go to that fortune teller.”

“Don't be silly.”

“She was weird.”

“She was striking, don't you think?” Lauren said.

“A great face to sketch, yes, but weird. Come on. Let's get back to the table. Heidi is going to want her fruit.”

The band was playing exceptional jazz; it sounded as if they had been together forever. As she sat, Lauren let the music engulf her, and she smiled. She came from this state, after all. She'd been in New Orleans hundreds of times. She knew the city well. Why she was letting the antics of a Jackson Square fortune teller disturb her, she didn't know.

“So are you ever going to tell us where the honeymoon is going to be?” Deanna asked Heidi.