my uxorem. Diana said that she believed it would be for the best, and I find that I agree with her logic even if I don’t necessarily agree with the sentiment behind it. Still, it is logical to give you some measure of freedom and put our relationship to some semblance of rest and cooperation for once,” he said grudgingly.
Dorinda raised an eyebrow. “That was perhaps the least gracious offer that has ever been extended to another being… ever… but coming from you that means it is a genuine one and is borderline sweet.” She smirked and adjust her seat on her rock. “I am guessing that you are not here just because you miss me. You want to know about Cacus.”
“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” he muttered.
Diana slapped his hip with her tail and smiled kindly at the vegoia. “Yes, we need to know where to find him before he comes up again from beneath the ground. Your help will determine whether or not we succeed.”
“Not that you cared to oblige earlier,” he added, and scooted out of the way before his mate could lash him again.
“Stop that,” his uxorem hissed.
Dorinda snorted. “Pay him no mind. I don’t. And you, brother, had I given you the information you sought earlier without your queen tied heart and soul to you, you would have succumbed to Nocis and ultimately failed. I foresaw it and therefore refused your entreaties to spare you that fate. You’re welcome.”
“As you see, now I have my uxorem by my side… and my memories restored. Please,” he bit back the wince at having to politely ask for a favor from his sister, “instruct us in what you foresee. Where might we find him?”
The vegoia smiled and tipped her head back, tail slipping through the water as she inhaled. A mist rose up as the water around her rippled and foamed. A light tremor swept through her body and then she jerked, her back bowing as her mouth gaped open.
Selvans moved forward in concern, ready to pull her out of her trance, when she snapped her crimson eyes open, appearing almost to bleed from their shimmering glow. Her voice hissed, each word drawn out.
“Cacus sleeps in a city of flesh… where vampires have been whispered to haunt, and the dead sleep above ground. He sleeps in a stone building of the dead… where he rests after glutting himself on thousands of souls… The bones of the living decorate his bower. He sleeps deep, but not for long.”
Selvans frowned, frustrated with his lack of knowledge when it came to the human world. The place described sounded distinctive enough that he couldn’t imagine why humans would ever wish to have inhabited the location at all. And they called his kind and the places they lurked monstrous!
He glanced at Diana and found her to be grinning.
“I know that place,” she said with a laugh. “And my mother always said reading all the vampire filth as a kid was going to rot my brain, but thank you, Anne Rice! I even went on the vampire tour when I visited for Mardi Gras, the feast of the flesh, when I was twenty-one and legally able to drink. The story of Jacques St. Germain always fascinated me in particular. The place has some big-time vampire lore and above-ground cemeteries since the town is below sea level. He’s sleeping in a mausoleum from the sound of it.”
“We will need to find a portal to this New Orleans, then,” he said.
Diana rubbed her neck and gave him a hopeful look. “Do you have a map?”
Chapter 47
New Orleans had fallen, and nature was creeping in to reclaim it. That didn’t surprise Diana. After the ravaging, anyone who may have survived the madness from the wulkwos that had nested in the big cities had long since fled. There was no one to maintain the upkeep following the hurricane seasons. Shattered glass, colorful plastic, and broken boards littered the streets, scattered among other remnants of human life that had been abandoned. With the toe of her boot, she kicked away a tangled knot of plastic bead necklaces left by some tourist during the ravaging, no doubt. Plastic truly did last forever.
Ironically, while the modern houses were falling apart, the buildings of the Quarter that had stood for hundreds of years remained as gloomy gray sentinels. More than one building had tattered fabric clinging to the windows of what had been apartments and short-term rented rooms. It fluttered