Callie

That night, Callie returned to the cemetery where she’d lost the loup-garou, armed with a sack of Voudon accoutrements and her sword. She chose the closest intersection of avenues between the rows of tombs, because a smear of dried blood she’d missed the previous night decorated one of the brick houses covered in plaster. The iron cross atop the tomb would provide added protection.

  The proprietor of the Bourbon Street shop ostensibly catering to tourists but with a backroom dedicated to the more discerning client had been a wealth of resources. As soon as Callie had told the woman that Mama Matie had sent her, Mrs. Molineaux had spat on the floor, called Mama Matie “that damned cook”, and pulled Callie grudgingly behind the black curtain put there, she said, to assure the tourists of her bona fides.

  “Crossroads in New Orleans don’t belong to Mestopheles,” she told Callie, searching her shelves. “They belong to Papa Legba, and only Papa Legba say who or what come through.”

  “Then how did the loup-garou get through?” Callie asked.

  An indifferent shrug. “Only Legba knows. Perhaps one of the other Loa annoyed him in some way, or perhaps he was just bored. Perhaps his followers haven’t been paying him the proper respect.”

  “So how do I kill it?” This, as Mrs. Molineaux began lining up candles and items on the counter where she mixed her herbs.

  “You don’t.” The hoodoo raked Callie up and down with a critical look. “You’re too young, too new. It’s better if you banish it.”

  “It would help if I could actually see the damned thing first,” Callie replied.

  “No better way to do that than fire.” She began pulling herbs from various jars and bins. “And silver will weaken it. Once it’s trapped, you can open the Crossroads and ask Papa Legba to return it to the Underworld.”

  “Mama Matie mentioned something about protection?”

  “I’ll make you a powerful gris-gris. Make you difficult to scent out, to target. It will confuse the beast to give you the opening you need. Mama Brigitte will see to it.” She grinned widely. “Not even the Baron himself tangles with her.”

  First, the grave dust mixed with silver, poured in a careful circle around the intersection, so that it crossed all four corners. At each of the corners she lit black and purple candles. She wore two skeleton keys around her neck, one for Papa Legba to open the Crossroads, and one for Ogun, to help her see, and to protect her in the coming fight. She drew the key for Legba from around her neck, and laid it in the center of the circle, key facing south.

  Next, she had to draw out the beast. To do this she pricked open the inside of her left arm and began leaving smudges of blood on tombs as she stalked between them, whistling nervously. “Come on, you great, slobbery, son of a bitch. Smell the nice blood.”

  She paused along one avenue, the small blur of her candlelit trap to the left, emptiness to the right. This was not the normal silence of night. This was the silence of a predator in the immediate area.

  Something knocked her to one side, and she and her attacker both went rolling down another grassy street until they butted up against the iron gate of a tomb, rattling its gate.

  A fierce face glared down at her, surrounded by blond hair and accompanied by sparking blue eyes. “Who the hell are you?” the other woman demanded. “And what are you doing in my city?”

  “Your city?” Callie sputtered, kicking the other woman away. “You are interrupting my hunt.”

  “I’m Eva.” She got to her feet, took in Callie’s sword and the charms hanging around her neck. “And you’re new at this, but at least you’re bright enough to find the right people to help you. You’re here for the beast?”

  “That, I think, is evident.” Callie pushed herself up.

  “Funny thing about it,” Eva said, “is that it’s after you.”

  “How can you possibly know that?”

  “It should have torn you to pieces in that alley way last night—instead, it led you here.”

  “You’re following me?”

  “Seemed like the smart money.” Eva poked her head around the row. “That is, until you opened a door for it right in the middle of a damned cemetery. Forgot to call upon Legba, did we?”

  “I’m not trying to kill it, I’m trying to draw it in, so I can banish it.” Callie paused. “Can you kill it?”

  “On my own? No.” Eva gave her an assessing look. “But with your help…can you pass through between yet?”

  Callie blinked, realization dawning. “You’re a Keeper of the Flame.”

  “Well spotted. Well? Can you?”

  “Technically, yes. I’m not sure I can do it here, though. The Flame feels…different.”

  “That’s because you’re not in Brighid’s realm here. This is Loa territory. Luckily, everything is connected, and you’ve got a skeleton key all ready to go.” Eva grinned. “Ready to see how it’s done, kid?”

  Callie hesitated only a moment before nodding agreement. “Let’s do it.”

  And that’s how she ended up playing a game of high speed hide-and-seek through one of New Orleans’ famed Cities of the Dead, pelting through the miniature necropolis with a centuries-old Hell Hound at her heels. Eva took to the rooftops, jumping from tomb to tomb, shouting directions and encouragement. She swore, and grabbed onto the second skeleton key dangling around her neck, along with Mrs. Molineaux’s gris-gris.

  She careened into another aisle, the beast behind her turning the corner of a tomb to rubble as it skittered to follow her. Ahead, in the distance, lay her Crossroads trap. As she neared, Eva cut ahead to get there before her. Callie wove and ducked through the dead alley ways, playing for time. By the time she burst back into the main row she was on the verge of losing steam, and she was drenched in sweat.

  The circle ignited. Well, here went nothing.

  Or, in Callie’s case, everything.

  She gritted her teeth and sprinted for the circle. “Papa Legba!” she panted. “I beseech you to open your Crossroads to me! Now would be nice! Thank you!”

  She dove head first into the fire. As her feet left the ground, she tapped in to the light within her, the internal fire that connected to a certain eternal one in the heart of Ireland, and pulled herself into the black, endless void of between. The hollow between space and time swallowed her, and as her trajectory slowed she was already reaching for the other side, pulling herself through.

  She hurtled through back into New Orleans, sound and light exploding as she hit the ground rolling on the opposite side of the trap. As the massive beast circled and growled, trapped, Eva jumped down and took its head with her sword.

  Breathing hard, Callie watched the beast fall, dissipating into rolling lines of fire. Then, with a sigh of relief, she wilted against the cool grass. “Nice try, Johnny. But no cigar.”

  SEVEN