"He's one of my best, trust me," Jagger said.
"A leprechaun?" she said again.
Just then there was a pounding on the door. He checked the peephole, then threw the door open and let Sean in.
Shauna stared at Sean O'Casey, then at Jagger.
"He's a leprechaun?" she demanded.
"It's the hormones in the milk," Sean said wearily.
"Shauna, I know who you are--I saw you at the assembly. Please, I know your capabilities, have some faith in mine."
She turned back to Jagger, shaking her head. "At least he's a very good-looking leprechaun."
"We're all good-looking. We just don't tend to be tall," Sean assured her.
They would be fine together, Jagger decided, as he paused in the doorway. "Hang onto your cell phones, and be ready to go wherever I send you whenever you get a call."
"Whatever you say, sir," Sean promised.
Shauna nodded, and Jagger was on his way.
The gates to the cemetery were still open.
Fiona walked in, aware of the chill tendrils of the growing breeze at her nape, aware of the shadows taking shapes between the monuments and mausoleums.
The family vault was toward the far end, where once things had been pristine and beautiful, but where time and the elements had led to corrosion and decay. She and her sisters kept up the MacDonald tomb, but many of the surrounding families were long gone, and the three of them couldn't maintain everything that should have been maintained.
She walked over weeds and stones, and wove through broken bits of funerary art, past a row of fine vaults and toward a towering angel.
Past the angel, she reached an expanse of grass that led toward the family tomb.
And someone was standing there, waiting.
David Du Lac.
Jagger headed straight to Underworld.
Valentina was at the hostess stand, but he didn't bother to stop and speak with her. He strode straight into the courtyard, looking around. When he didn't see David, he turned and headed for the main room, bursting through the double doors.
Valentina came running up behind him. "What are you doing, Jagger?"
"Where's Fiona?"
Valentina shook her head. "She was here around lunchtime, but she left hours ago."
"I want to see David. Or Mateas Grenard. Is either of them here?"
"Mateas Grenard is here right now," a voice boomed.
The man rose from a shadowed table against the wall and strode toward Jagger. "What is it? Why are you looking for me?"
Jagger drew a copy of the sketch artist's rendering from his pocket.
"You were seen leaving the cemetery immediately before the third murder was discovered. And now I can't find Fiona MacDonald--or her sister. So you will talk to me, and talk quickly, or--"
"I was never anywhere near that cemetery!" Grenard interrupted in protest.
"You also purchased a nightgown like the ones worn by the victims in all three murders," Jagger said. "I've never bought a nightgown," Mateas protested.
Jagger reached into the lining of his jacket for the stake he carried at all times.
"You've spoken against our ways," Jagger said softly.
"So what? I'm innocent!" Mateas cried. He started to bare his teeth, his fangs growing, saliva dripping from them. "Where is your law?" he asked. "I'm innocent."
Jagger felt his own fangs growing, felt the fury begin to ripple through him.
Fury born of fear. Fear for Fiona.
"Stop, please!" a voice interrupted.
It was Abigail. Or Anne, as she was now called. She rushed forward, holding Billy's hand and dragging him with her. "Please, stop!" she said. "I don't know what's been going on today, but Mateas has been here with us for hours. He's been teaching me all kinds of history, and how to behave and things I need to know."
"She's telling the truth," Billy said.
Jagger's phone rang. This time it was Tony Miro.
Apparently Tony had taken over the database search when Sean left to stay with Shauna.
"Hey, boss. I went further on that dead guy thing--you know, the murderer who died in the forties. He wasn't just hanged. Folks in the city were crazy. They dug him up right after he was buried and chopped him into pieces. He wasn't walking around this city in any way, shape or form--not unless he had a doppelganger of some kind. Sorry, boss, wish I could be more helpful. Says he died without children, so this has to be some kind of a fluke. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry, Tony. You might just have given me exactly what I need."
Jagger snapped the phone shut and headed straight to the hostess station. He didn't see Valentina, but he did see her friend Sue.
He walked up to Sue and took her by the arm. "That was you before, wasn't it?" he said.
She flushed. "So what? Valentina just wanted some time off, so she asked me to cover for her. But there's this really cute guy over there, so...I wanted to see if he would like me."
He didn't reply. He was already halfway back to the church.
"Billy, you stay put with Abigail. Mateas, you come with me."
"Where are we going?"
"Where are the bodies found?" Jagger asked.
"In cemeteries," Mateas said. "But...which cemetery?"
"I think he's taken at least one MacDonald, so we're heading to the MacDonald vault."
"David," Fiona said. "It was you? I don't believe it."
"You don't believe what?" he asked. "That one of your precious vampires was a murderer? That you weren't in control? Well, believe it. Now it's up to you. Pick. I can kill you--or I can kill your sister."
"Or I can kill you," she said.
David shrugged. "Caitlin is not alone. She has supposedly been out all afternoon--with August Gaudin. But August is really in a meeting, and Caitlin--well, one bump on the head and...let's just say she's a bit tied up right now. So here, you see, is the problem. Either Caitlin goes free or you do. Either way, it's such a beautiful ending. Your precious sainted parents expended the last of their strength to stop the fighting. Now one of you will die on their tomb, and the races will go to war again over the evil of the vampires."
"Take me to Caitlin," Fiona said.
"Lift your arms," David said.
"I have no stakes on me," she said, lifting her arms as directed. She had to pray he wouldn't notice the little vials in her pocket.
"Jagger will be here to save me," she said.
David Du Lac laughed. "Jagger will be too busy chasing Mateas and hunting for someone he'll never find."
"What are you talking about?"
"A long dead serial killer," David said with pleasure.
"A will-o'-the-wisp he'll never find."
"Take me to my sister."
"Do you really think you can save your miserable lives?" David asked. "Of course."
He laughed. "Fine. Follow me."
He turned, knowing full well that she wouldn't do anything with Caitlin at risk. But as she followed him, a shadow suddenly loomed up before her. "Stop!"
The voice...
The shadow resolved itself into a man, stumbling as he tried to walk forward.
David Du Lac swore, striding toward him. "You're harder to kill than I thought."
"Wait!" Fiona cried out.
For a moment she felt a shiver of uncertainty wash over her, but then she knew.
David Du Lac was the man struggling to reach her. And David Du Lac was the one going over to finish off a murder. The murder of a man who had wanted peace, who had opened his heart and his club to all of them.
"You're not David," she said to her captor. "And if you kill the real David, I swear, you'll never get a chance to murder me or my sister. Touch him and you die."
"Fiona, watch out!" the real David Du Lac cried.
Too late. The blow caught her on the head. Her last thought was that she'd never even sensed the shapeshifter's accomplice coming up behind her.
And when she awoke, she was lying on her parents' sarcophagus, next to her unconscious sister.
"I don't understand," Mateas said.
"The killer wants a war. He wants all vampires destroyed. First he tried to turn us against each other, and then he wants to turn everyone else against us," Jagger explained. It was difficult to speak. They were traveling as night and shadow, flying through the tempest the breeze had become.
"So the serial killer from the past--how does he fit in?" Mateas said.
"When I learned he had been dismembered, I knew then. The killer's a shapeshifter. He allowed a witness to see him in the guise of a long dead killer just to confuse us, so if we ever identified the man in the sketch, we wouldn't know what to think. And he appeared outside the cemetery as you," Jagger explained. "Now he believes the deaths of the Keepers will give him the opportunity he wants to control the entire New Orleans underworld."
"God help us," Mateas said.
They had reached the cemetery. Jagger motioned to Mateas to stay dead quiet as they tried to see what was happening.
Silently they made their way to the MacDonald mausoleum.
It was large, adorned with cherubs and angels. It sat past a shrine to little children who had died of yellow fever, and a monument to fallen Confederate soldiers.
Jagger noted the stained-glass window in the back, which had been broken in a recent storm and not yet replaced.
He motioned to Mateas to follow him, then moved in that direction.
They must not have expected that she would regain consciousness so quickly, because she could hear her attackers whispering as they struggled to tie her ankles, making so many things clear. She looked at Caitlin, who still seemed to be unconscious. Then she saw Caitlin open one eye and mouthed two words.
"Holy water."
Caitlin tried to nod, but she was clearly very weak.
Fiona looked at her captors and wasn't surprised to see Valentina.
