Page 9

History. Tragedy. Hope.

Love. Sorrow. Hate.

Spirits walked these streets alongside the living. They laughed, sang, joked, made love, threw punches, the same as the rest of us, refusing to let a little thing like death slow down their good time. I admired that. I envied it too. Visiting New Orleans felt like coming home.

Almost.

Without Vi, her bright laugh and warm hugs, it just wasn’t the same.

“We’ll find answers for them.” Kierce brought my hand to his lips for a kiss. “I promise.”

“I’m glad you’re here with me.” I drew in a slow breath. “I’m not sure I could do it without you.”

“You have me, so you’d be fine.” Josie patted the top of my head. “But a death god sidekick is cool too.”

A soft laugh from Kierce huffed across my knuckles, reminding me I hadn’t asked her about Carter. “Does your roomie know you’re in NOLA?”

“I’m not her girlfriend.” She pushed out her bottom lip. “I don’t need her permission to live my life.”

Based on the cadence of that speech, I got the sense those were direct quotes from a conversation with Carter. Probably a recent one. Which explained the mocking tone.

“Ah.”

As much as it stung Josie’s pride, Carter had been upfront from the start about her stance on relationships. Josie was just too stubborn to believe she couldn’t sway her. Unable to help ease that self-inflicted wound, I turned tour guide for Pascal.

“The house has been in the Fontenot family for over a century.” I reclaimed my hand from Kierce to cut the wheel. “Wait until you see inside.”

Faux doorways and false windows lined the exterior at street level, blending in with the other residences in the area. But one set of double doors in particular always garnered dropped jaws anytime they swung open in front of passersby, and tonight was no different as I rolled the wagon over the sidewalk and drove into a massive space that was part garage and part crypt, part supply room and part chapel.

There were other areas, private areas, that only Fontenot family members were allowed to make use of. That included me, much to Rollo’s chagrin, but I was oath sworn to keep their secrets. They were as safe with me as mine were with them.

“Anyone got a napkin or a roll of paper towels?” Josie wrinkled her nose. “Pascal is drooling over Vi’s collection.”

Hearses. Each one more unique than the last. A few of them worth hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Most had been used for their intended purpose by the original Fontenots who settled New Orleans back in 1718. Given the myriad ways the land tried its best to kill off those attempting to tame it, they had the right idea in embracing death as the family business when it had been so much a part of daily life.

“I know I died, but is this heaven?” Pascal sat back and pressed his face to his window, his breath fogging the glass. “Hello, babies. Daddy’s home.”

“Eww.” Josie inched as far away from him as she could get. “You had to go and make it weird.”

Nostalgia swirled through me as I pulled into my usual parking space, and I wished I had come sooner.

No one should wait until catastrophe struck, until their life was upended, until it was just plain too late, to spend time with the ones they love. I had called, texted, video chatted—even astrally projected—with Vi. But it wasn’t the same as driving to her home, embracing her, and proving I cared enough to show up for her. I had failed her, and I wasn’t proud of it, but I would do better if…

No.

I wasn’t giving up on Matty or Vi. They would both be fine. I wouldn’t allow them any other choice.

“Will Rollo meet us here or upstairs?” Kierce examined the space through the windshield. “He knows we arrived, if he’s home. I felt us pass over the ward on the way in.”

“I’m not really a guest, more of a nuisance, in his mind anyway. He’ll expect me to let myself in.”

“I haven’t spent much time with him, but I don’t like Rollo much.”

“Trust me when I say that more time will only make you like him even less.”

His low chuckle gave me the push I needed to get out and face what lay ahead.