Crescent Moon - By Lori Handeland Page 0,45

arm.

"No." Her mouth thinned into a stubborn line.

"Why are you so obsessed with this?"

Her face took on a faraway expression, and for an instant I thought she might confide in me; then the stubbornness returned. "I have my reasons. You still have your powder?"

"Yes. But I'd feel better if I had a gun."

I thought about the one Adam had given me, which was still locked in the trunk of my car, where it was going to be of so much use to us.

Without commenting, Cassandra reached into her bag and withdrew a very long knife. I gaped. Who was this woman?

"Uh, it probably isn't a good idea to walk around with that."

She lifted a brow. "Believe me, in this neighborhood, it is."

"There's no one here but us."

"You're wrong. They're all over the place." She headed for the cemetery.

The back of my neck tingled. Who were "they"?

Not wanting to be left alone, I scurried to catch up just as Cassandra reached the front of St. Louis Cemetery Number One. Barbed wire lined the top of the stone fence. The front gate was iron and sported a big lock.

I breathed a sigh of relief until Cassandra reached out and gave it a shove. The gate slid open.

"Damn it," I muttered.

She cast me an amused glance. "How do you think Charlie got in?"

"He couldn't just slide through the walls?"

"He's a zombie, not a ghost."

"You're sure about that?"

Cassandra lifted a palm filled with powder. "Let's find out"

Without wailing for me to agree or disagree, she slipped through the gate. I glanced longingly at the street, which was lit up like the Superdome on Super Sunday. There were lots of cars and even a few non-zombie people; I wanted to stay.

"Diana!" Cassandra snapped.

I couldn't let her go alone, so I followed her inside.

The half-moon only shone enough light into St Louis Cemetery Number One to make the shadows dance and the white stone gleam. Other than that, darkness reigned.

"Watch your step," Cassandra murmured. "A lot of the old markers are crumbling. Easy to trip."

"Where are we going?"

"Best place to look for a zombie would be Marie Laveau's tomb."

"If you say so."

The crypt of the New Orleans voodoo queen wasn't very far from the front gate. Tall but otherwise unimpressive, it was tucked among many others. I wouldn't have taken the white boxy monument for anything special if not for the flowers in front of the door and the Xs drawn on the walls.

"What are those?" I whispered.

"People believe if they mark three Xs on Marie's tomb, scratch the ground three times with their feet, or rap three times on the grave, their wish will be granted."

I started to hum "Knock Three Times."

Cassandra snorted, then moved closer to the tomb and rapped on the door. Once. Twice. Three times.

I froze as the sound echoed in the stillness of the night. As I half-expected someone to answer, my head snapped around when a bell began to ring somewhere in the cemetery.

"Dead ringer," Cassandra murmured, and started in the direction of the sound. Since I had no desire to stay behind and see if her rapping had woken the voodoo queen, I followed.

"What the hell is a dead ringer?"

"You never heard the expression?"

"Sure. But it means someone who resembles someone else. What does that have to do with a bell in the cemetery?" I rubbed my arms against a sudden chill. "In the dark, in the night"

"This place was opened in 1789, back when they didn't know yellow fever was spread by mosquitoes. People thought it could be passed from person to person, be they living or dead."

"Understandable."

"So they placed the cemetery outside the city limits in an attempt to keep the fever away. But so many died, and so many panicked, sometimes people got buried before they were dead."

"Bummer."

She turned and lifted a brow in my direction. "Times ten. Because of the unique burial practices here, the tombs are opened to inter new bodies. When they started to find fingernail furrows in the doors, they came up with a brilliant idea."

The bell suddenly stopped ringing, and the ensuing silence was so loud, I could hear both of us breathing.

Cassandra pointed to a crypt. "They installed a bell on top, with a string leading inside. People were told if they suddenly awoke in a dark, enclosed space all they had to do was find the string and ring the bell. The cemetery attendant would come and let them out."

"Pretty smart."

"Not bad," she agreed. "Except when people began to