don’t think magic will do you well. You seem to make enemies and those types of people are not the kind you want as enemies.”
“The occult? That has promise.” The cogs started moving of their own will in my head. My thoughts were not always positive. Shit, half the time they’re downright horrendous.
I let my mind spin out of control with thoughts of the occult as I followed Cyrus when he turned down the street and walked away. Eventually, Tatum and Malcolm made their way to lead the pack to our destination.
Walking arm and arm, Tatum and Malcolm were oblivious to the world around them. As was I, to a point. I had visions of sugarplums dancing in my head. Fiction books based on all things occult. So many aspects to cover. So many opportunities. So many terrible situations to get myself into along the way, all in the name of research.
Maybe I could write a memoir of my research. Who the hell would read a book series like that?
Chapter Six
A fifteen-minute-walk through the streets of New Orleans took us to our destination. A two story Victorian teahouse smack-dab in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the French Quarter. The sun had nearly set leaving the sky a gradient of blue that ranged from royal to nearly white nearest the setting sun behind the horizon. Night had come to New Orleans and we, the four of us, were just getting started.
“Hiding in plain sight are we?” I said with a snarky tone. I hadn’t even experienced anything yet and I already wanted to go home.
“I am allowing you to attend a very exclusive summit. You will meet those of my kind and you will behave appropriately.” Malcolm spoke to me as if I was so beneath him, he wouldn’t spit on me to save my life.
“Or what? You’ll give me a spanking?” I raised one defiant brow.
“I might,” Cyrus smiled widely and I blushed and moved on.
A set of small front steps led us to a covered patio lined with hanging strings of charms and pendants, each a different symbol. I tried to eye each of them . This was the type of minute detail I needed for a killer fiction novel. Who’d have guessed you’d find something like this in the backwoods streets of downtown New Orleans?
“Each House is represented,” Cyrus said from nowhere as if reading my mind. “This is Malcolm’s House, C ailleadh,” he pointed to a braided Celtic cross that held a green stone in the center. It was only one of well over a dozen hanging charms that were collected on the eaves of the porch. Others were shaped like Ankhs, or crosses, or stars. I wondered what the other Houses were called. “Each House has a Primus and each Primus has a Secondus. You’ll be meeting them all. Right about…now.”
The ornate door opened then. The streetlamp shone oddly across the face of our greeter. She was so tall she made Tatum look like…well…me. Her hair was pulled back tightly in a way that made all her features more prominent than was attractive. The light cast shadows across her face that caused it to look more monstrous than human. She wore a shiny black latex bodysuit complete with thigh-high stilettos. The woman looked as though she was getting ready to slip through a tight space more than ready for a party. But then again, I wasn’t not the expert in this category.
Malcolm stepped to the door and extended his hand to the woman towering over him. She said something I didn’t understand and leaned a great distance to kiss Malcolm across his knuckles. It struck me as odd that a woman would be kissing a man’s hand, but again, not the expert.
No more formalities followed with the oversized woman. Malcolm and Tatum walked in a strange fashion through the door. Cyrus extended his arm as escort and I reluctantly took it. The woman waited at the doorway with her eyes to the ground. I smiled in her direction, but she never acknowledged anyone but Malcolm.
The door closed behind us and the woman swiftly moved past us and pulled back a heavy
“The occult? That has promise.” The cogs started moving of their own will in my head. My thoughts were not always positive. Shit, half the time they’re downright horrendous.
I let my mind spin out of control with thoughts of the occult as I followed Cyrus when he turned down the street and walked away. Eventually, Tatum and Malcolm made their way to lead the pack to our destination.
Walking arm and arm, Tatum and Malcolm were oblivious to the world around them. As was I, to a point. I had visions of sugarplums dancing in my head. Fiction books based on all things occult. So many aspects to cover. So many opportunities. So many terrible situations to get myself into along the way, all in the name of research.
Maybe I could write a memoir of my research. Who the hell would read a book series like that?
Chapter Six
A fifteen-minute-walk through the streets of New Orleans took us to our destination. A two story Victorian teahouse smack-dab in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the French Quarter. The sun had nearly set leaving the sky a gradient of blue that ranged from royal to nearly white nearest the setting sun behind the horizon. Night had come to New Orleans and we, the four of us, were just getting started.
“Hiding in plain sight are we?” I said with a snarky tone. I hadn’t even experienced anything yet and I already wanted to go home.
“I am allowing you to attend a very exclusive summit. You will meet those of my kind and you will behave appropriately.” Malcolm spoke to me as if I was so beneath him, he wouldn’t spit on me to save my life.
“Or what? You’ll give me a spanking?” I raised one defiant brow.
“I might,” Cyrus smiled widely and I blushed and moved on.
A set of small front steps led us to a covered patio lined with hanging strings of charms and pendants, each a different symbol. I tried to eye each of them . This was the type of minute detail I needed for a killer fiction novel. Who’d have guessed you’d find something like this in the backwoods streets of downtown New Orleans?
“Each House is represented,” Cyrus said from nowhere as if reading my mind. “This is Malcolm’s House, C ailleadh,” he pointed to a braided Celtic cross that held a green stone in the center. It was only one of well over a dozen hanging charms that were collected on the eaves of the porch. Others were shaped like Ankhs, or crosses, or stars. I wondered what the other Houses were called. “Each House has a Primus and each Primus has a Secondus. You’ll be meeting them all. Right about…now.”
The ornate door opened then. The streetlamp shone oddly across the face of our greeter. She was so tall she made Tatum look like…well…me. Her hair was pulled back tightly in a way that made all her features more prominent than was attractive. The light cast shadows across her face that caused it to look more monstrous than human. She wore a shiny black latex bodysuit complete with thigh-high stilettos. The woman looked as though she was getting ready to slip through a tight space more than ready for a party. But then again, I wasn’t not the expert in this category.
Malcolm stepped to the door and extended his hand to the woman towering over him. She said something I didn’t understand and leaned a great distance to kiss Malcolm across his knuckles. It struck me as odd that a woman would be kissing a man’s hand, but again, not the expert.
No more formalities followed with the oversized woman. Malcolm and Tatum walked in a strange fashion through the door. Cyrus extended his arm as escort and I reluctantly took it. The woman waited at the doorway with her eyes to the ground. I smiled in her direction, but she never acknowledged anyone but Malcolm.
The door closed behind us and the woman swiftly moved past us and pulled back a heavy
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