Chapter 4

The first thing I did was find a church.

Fear aside, there was no way I could live with myself if I didn't take the time to light a candle for my dearly missed friend, and speak his name.

Phoenix.

Despite being mortal, he was very attuned to the earth, and the spirit world. Enough that "vampires" and "lycans", all that… wouldn't have even raised his eyebrows. He would've just wanted the tea.

And this shit I was going through now?

Piping hot.

I wasn't sure about the lore on if a vampire could enter a church or not, so I was half worried about being interrupted the whole time I was there. Instead of sticking around to really talk to Phoenix, to bask in the energy of the building… I kept it short.

Lest Parris show up and fuck me on the altar or something.

That sacrilegious thought made me leave even faster to keep it pushing to my true destination. I didn't even bother with any kind of evasive maneuvers. By this point, I could safely assume Parris would find me wherever I went.

There wasn't much I could do about it.

Yet.

What I couldn't do in my own power was one thing, but damn near anything felt possible as soon as I stepped through the front door of Pierre's Fine Books and Apothecary. It was empty, not even the tourists were out at this late hour, so it was nothing for me to head straight to the front counter, navigating crowded shelves in the dim light.

"Anle?*," the woman at the counter muttered, without even looking up from whatever she was scribbling in a tattered notebook.

If I wasn't here for anything important, I'd fuck with her as payment for her rudeness. Clearly she was preoccupied and didn't want her focus broken, but damn.

I settled for a simple, "Thanks Roseline," not listening for or even expecting an answer as I kept walking to reach the stairs leading to the living quarters above the shop.

Where I'd grown up.

Though I hadn"t been away for too long, there was still a clear sense of anticipation and relief coursing through me as I unlocked the door.

I was home.

As soon as I rounded the corner from the foyer, I found my mother and one of my aunts seated in the living room, having tea.

"Li tounen,?*" my Aunt Clerie exclaimed, hopping straight up to help my mother. I frowned at that, but couldn't focus on it once she got to where I was to give me a hug, squeezing me so tightly it took my breath away. Clerie didn't even wait for her to be done; she just joined in, wrapping both of us in her arms for another layer of squeezing I had to wriggle my way out of.

"Bonswa?*," I greeted, laughing as they stepped back.

Both of their eyes narrowed at me, and then they looked at each other.

"Dorah, li paret diferan?*," Clerie said, motioning at me. "What do you think it is?"

"What's going on with you, child?" my mother questioned, clearly picking up on whatever Clerie had.

Which worried me.

Did I… shit.

Do I look well-fucked?

"Nothing," I denied, pulling my bag around from my shoulder to unzip it. I barely had it undone when both women gasped.

My first thought was that Parris had popped up. I whipped around, expecting to find him behind me. Instead, the foyer was empty and my mother was grabbing me by the arms.

"You're wearing your scapolite. What's wrong?! Tell me now!"

"Rilaks, monmon, souple?*," I insisted. "If you let me just explain, please?"

"Talk quickly, child!"

"I found one of the Pierre Grimoires," I huffed, reaching into my bag for it. For a brief flash, when my hand didn't immediately land on the leather pouch I'd wrapped it in for protection, I considered that I'd been robbed again, by a certain vampire.

Ugh.

How thirsty could I be, all my thoughts going back to him when he wasn't even in the room?

My fingertips landed on the textured fabric and I pulled it out, revealing the item to the two people who could appreciate it even more than I had.

Afterall, they were the keepers of this shop.

Until recently, they were a trio. My Aunt Este, Roseline's mother, had passed recently, due in no small part to the deterioration of our family's magical thread. She'd been ill as a child, but as long as anyone could remember, intricate spells and rune work, tattooed right on her skin, had kept her whole. Over the years, other things had been sacrificed to keep the flow of power going in her direction.

And then, one day, it wasn't enough.

Another reason I didn't act an ass with Roseline, who I used to be close with.

She missed her mother.

But so did Dorah and Clerie. The three of them had been avid readers, collectors, and apothecaries. Hence, the shop. The obscure, one-of-a-kind, and just plain fucking weird could be found here, in books, herbs, whatever.

Of their children, I was the one who picked up the knack for collecting, and many of my finds ended up here. The sisters didn't do much traveling anymore, but I found my way all over the place, meeting people and being nosy and earning favors.

Which was how the grimoire came into my possession.

"Did you have to wear the scapolite to open it? To read it?" Clerie asked, her voice and eyes full of awe as I pulled it from the pouch to place in my mother's hands.

"No," I answered. "I put on the scapolite because of what I read on the first pages. I felt I needed… reinforcement."

"Well good lord, what did you see?" Mama asked, carrying the grimoire to the kitchen table. Outwardly, the appearance suggested it was crumbling, and fragile, but the pages were imbued with magic. It would hold on for a long while. "I can feel the power in it," she said, running her fingers over the intricately embroidered cover.

We were flanking her now, and she looked between me and Clerie once more before she turned her attention back to the book, flipping it to that first page; as far as I'd gotten.

Initially, it was a historical accounting of our family saga—Hispaniola, West Africa, Saint Domingue, the revolution, and of course, Louisiana. I'd eaten those parts up, quizzing myself on the information me and my cousins had been sprinkled with over the years.

It was cool.

And then it got into the betrayal, one of our own, distantly. Driven mad by power, she sought more and more, sought control and reverence, at the cost of… anything.

She didn't care.

It was history that actually overlapped with the Eonians. History I'd have to talk to Brosia about, and introduce her to others in Blackwood as well.

Many had suffered because of one overzealous witch with unchecked power.

Power we always thought we'd never get back.

Until this grimoire.

"Oh there's your name, Larivye!" Aunt Clerie exclaimed, looking up at me with a smile as my mother sucked her teeth.

"Yes, her real name, not River."

I sucked my teeth too. "It means the same thing, old woman," I teased. "And besides, River matches the job of collecting weird stuff. People expect a quirky name."

"Mmmhmmm," she hummed. "Hush up, I'm trying to read. This says…"

Clerie sucked in a breath.

Obviously she'd been reading ahead.

"A vampire?!" Mama exclaimed, pressing a hand to her chest. "Is that what that says? Mwen li sa a dwat??*!"

"Not just any vampire, First descendants!" Clerie yelped. "Senyè ede nou?*!"

"Do you see what is here? Bonding?! Is that… What does that mean? Will you have to become one of them? Would you even be yourself anymore?" Mama asked, her voice getting weaker with every word.

"Mama?" I said, dropping to a squat beside her. From this close, and really looking at her, I was picking up on things I hadn't before. How much deeper her wrinkles seemed, how pale and fragile-looking her skin was, how much smaller she seemed.

My head whipped up, finding Clerie's gaze.

Her eyes were wet.

"The same as Este?" I asked, grabbing onto the table to steady myself when she nodded.

"It's going to be just fine," Mama said, covering my hand with hers. "I've lived a good life?—"

"And you're going to live even more, like our elders did," I said, pointing at the book. "If you do the math, you'll see. When the leech queen died a few years ago, some type of depression happened. Maybe her last desperate attempt, I don't know. But that's when Aunt Este got so sick, so fast, and remember, we felt the power siphon away."

Clerie nodded. "I do remember. But what…?"

"I won't let Mama be next," I declared. "You saw what it said. That when I bind with the descendant of Firsts… we'll be restored. I have to do this."

"You will not put yourself in danger for me," Mama denied. "You've heard the same stories we have about First Vampires, their power."

"I'm not afraid."

"You should be," Clerie countered. "And besides… there may not be time."

My eyes went wide. "May not be… it's that bad?! And you weren't going to tell me?!"

"We were going to tell you!" Mama assured me. "In another week or so. When it was closer, so you wouldn't be hanging around here watching me suffer."

"Well good thing that won't happen."

Mama sucked her teeth. "Tenacious child. We are talking about such a short time… I know you think every idea in your head is possible, but?—

"Hey!" Roseline's voice pulled our attention to the kitchen doorway.

"What is it, dear?" Clerie asked.

"Uh… there's a sexy ass vampire downstairs."

Of course there is.

All eyes came to me and I shrugged. "What do you want me to say?"

"Literally anything," Roseline quipped. "I was being nosy. How did he know to find you here?"

"He followed me," I answered, heading for the front door. "From Blackwood."

"From Blackwood?!" Mama exclaimed. "So you've met him already?"

A brief flash of being bent over the airplane sink with his thumb in my ass played in my head. "Uh… yeah, we're familiar."

"Which is why you think you can save your mother?" Clerie asked. "How will you convince him to?—"

"I won't have to convince him of anything," I interrupted. "Again, he followed me. He's already aware of our supposed… fate. I think his brothers probably had to bind their mates first, and that's done, so… now it's his turn."

"So you get to be eternal bedmates with a vampire who'll look like that forever, and you get to save your mother?" Roseline said, pulling my attention to her. She didn't sound bitter, just… sad.

"I'm sorry, Roseline," I told her. "If I'd known sooner, if I could've done anything, I?—"

"You did enough," she cut in, shaking her head. "I know how hard you searched for… anything, everything that could help. I'm just… I just wish it was different."

I nodded. "Me too. If it helps… the vampire is an asshole."

"Please don't rub it in," Roseline replied, grinning at me. "You know you like that."

"You… might have a point. But only because the dic—" I started, then remembered the older women still in the room with us.

Looking quite scandalized.

"Larivye!" my mother scolded. "I don't want to hear you speaking this way, and neither would your future mate. What would he think of you?"

I scoffed. "He's already heard much worse, and is still stalking me, so…"

"You must act ladylike, present yourself with poise, and modesty," Clerie advised and I laughed.

"Parris Black wants nothing to do with a modest lady," I said, pulling the door open to head downstairs. "Trust me. With what's at stake… I'm going to give him exactly what he's looking for."

* ?Upstairs - Haitian Creole

* ?She's back - Haitian Creole

* ?Good Evening - Haitian Creole

* ?She seems different - Haitian Creole

* ?Relax, mama, please - Haitian Creole

* ?Did I read this right? - Haitian Creole

* ?Lord help us - Haitian Creole