Night Fever (A Rue Darrow Novel Book 3) (12 page)

A smile broke out on her face, and she jumped up and down, clapping her hands. “Yay, let’s do it. The boss will beg us for the recipe, but we won’t tell him. Let him taste and weep.”

I snorted. “Sure, why not?”

While I made space on the cluttered counter and cleaned up most of the mess on the stove, I sent Georgia off to the lauder. I wasn’t sure if she was coherent enough to find what I needed, but she soon returned with the right item. We set to work. I pounded the steaks into about a quarter inch thickness, and Georgia measured two cups of flour in a shallow bowl. In the middle of my task, I paused to watch her. Her hands moved with precision despite illness. I supposed she had been doing at least this much for a very long time, given she was often responsible for making sauces.

We worked together for almost a half hour preparing the dish for the skillet. I explained what I was looking for as the steaks browned and the approximate time for each side. Georgia danced from one foot to the other. She hadn’t calmed down in the least, so I pulled another recipe from my mental storehouse of being Libby Grace. This was one was for pecan peach cobbler. Georgia began to shake too much to handle any of the prep, so I did it while she
oohed
and
aahed
.

Soon the scents of the food filled the air, and I lamented that I couldn’t eat any of it when it was done. While I prepared the complimentary dishes to the steak, Georgia sat down on a stool. She was getting worse. I sometimes had to hold her up until she regained some strength. Her eyelids grew heavy, and her hands hung at her sides. Yet, I saw the determination in her glittering gaze. She refused to pass until the meal and dessert were done.

At last, I pulled the cobbler from the oven and set it to cool. With Georgia lying across a line of chairs I had hauled into the kitchen, I selected a generous portion of the steak for her and placed it on a plate. Holding the fork before her lips, I wondered if she would be able to eat. She had shut her eyes and wasn’t moving, but the slow thud of her heart reached my ears.

“If you can’t taste it, Georgia, that’s okay.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and she stared blankly at me. “Don’t cry, Rue.”

I touched my cheek. My fingers came away red, and I scrubbed my face with my forearm. “Sorry about that. So gross.”

She managed to catch my arm when I began to move away. “Let me taste it.”

I aimed the bite of food at her mouth, and she took a good five minutes to open wide enough. Somehow we got it tucked in, and she chewed with the most amazing look of bliss on her face.

“It’s delicious, Rue. Just like I knew it would be. See? We’re sis…”

“Sisters,” I finished. “We do work well together, Georgia.”

She didn’t respond, and then her heart beat its last. All at once, I recalled what it was like to feel fully the way I did when I was human. The heartache increased tenfold, and I sat crouched on the floor, stroking her hair. At any moment, Georgia’s spirit would rise, and I would get to say my last good-byes before she headed to the other side.

Ten minutes passed and then twenty. I squinted at her. “Georgia?”

No movement. Had I missed it coming out? Maybe she was one of the rare ones whose spirit would rise later. I had seen it happen before, the spirit not make its appearance right away. Yet, I couldn’t accept that hers might be stuck. What if it was jammed into a dead and unmoving body for all eternity? I didn’t want to assume. Carl’s spirit had made its appearance before it was sucked back in. I thought I would have those precious moments and keep Georgia from rising.

Panic washed over me. I gathered her into my arms and rushed outside to the street with her. Swinging left and right, I considered what to do. Nothing occurred to me. I ran with her down several other blocks, imagining if it weren’t so late and with so few people on the street to witness, I might look like a maniac.

I couldn’t take Georgia to the hospital. There were no signs of life. They would whisk her straight to the morgue, and that wouldn’t resolve the problem. As a last resort, I cried out, “Francis!”

He appeared in an instant. Either he was nearby because he followed me around, or the vampire could teleport. I wasn’t in the mood to question him regarding it. His curious gaze moved from the prone Georgia to my face, and I knew he saw the stains from my crying earlier. Maybe I was still crying, my heart ached so much. I was no longer used to this level of pain, and I didn’t like it.

“I don’t know what to do. Her spirit hasn’t come out. Please, Francis. Tell me what to do to free her.”

“She doesn’t want to die.”

“She’s dead already,” I shouted at him. He didn’t react at all. “Her heart’s stopped beating, and she’s been like this at least half an hour. I’m begging you, Francis. Help us.”

He laid a hand on her chest and then retracted it quickly. “Her spirit is there. It doesn’t want to leave. She’s a ghoul, but she hasn’t awakened.”

“What does that mean?”

“Sometimes they are resigned to their fate, but they need help to rise.”

I thought about what he was saying. “If I make sure she can’t rise in this body, her spirit will be released?”

“No.”

I was afraid he was going to say that.

“As I said, she’s a full ghoul now but not risen. Her spirit can no longer separate from her body. It will be destroyed with the body.”

“Oh.”

I shut my eyes and sank to the ground. Georgia was a ghoul, even though I hadn’t seen her open her eyes and talk to me again. She was like all the others that had risen and walked to eat humans. I had to kill her or she would remain suspended.

“She can rise.”

I looked up at him. “What?”

“She can rise if you put her in the ground.”

“New Orleans ground? You’re kidding. No one is put in the ground.”

“A ghoul can rise from the ground if they don’t rise right away after losing their human life. It must be ground, not a crypt.”

I muttered to myself that I should kill her here and now. I should get it over with, say good-bye, and tell her I love her. My hands refused to move to hurt her, even if she couldn’t feel it.

I sniffed. “How long, Francis?”

“Twenty-four hours at most.”

“Are you sure?”

“No.”

I rolled my eyes. “All right. Tell me what to do.”

Chapter Fifteen

We sought for a place to bury Georgia. Oddly enough the cities of the dead were not ideal. Remaining out of sight of anyone else was also a challenge. Sure, Francis could cloak himself, and he did. I can’t tell you how many of the creatures of the night we passed who gave me both curious and accusing looks. They completely missed the vampire leading the way!

As we moved, I wondered about how Francis knew all he had shared. Had Silvano told him what I needed to do and asked him to act as if the idea came from Francis? No, I knew Silvano well enough to know he wouldn’t want anyone taking credit for his ingenuity. Silvano had said no, and he meant it. The question became whether Francis would get into trouble for going against Silvano’s wishes. Perhaps the lead vampire already knew what we were up to, and it was just a matter of time before we were both called to the carpet. I wasn’t worried about my own welfare but for Francis’s. Still, I questioned his motives, if only to myself.

We sped past small green squares, spots where humans enjoyed the day on a bench while on lunch break. I experienced an instant of amusement thinking about burying Georgia in one of the mini-parks then thought better of it. I had no guarantee she would rise at night, and you can imagine the rest that would happen. No, the humans had to be protected.

Francis and I reached the ninth ward and slowed. There were some houses that were empty, but they had nearby neighbors. I peered up at the sky. We were running out of time. In an hour or so, both Francis and I would need to take our rest.

“This,” Francis said, stopping at one of the abandoned houses.

I looked over into the yard. We had moved up the back alley. The small area behind the house was scarcely longer than six feet, but at least it had plenty of dirt with a few patches of grass left. Make that weeds.

“She’ll rise?” I said again, needing to be reassured.

“I don’t know, Rue. She
can
rise. That doesn’t mean she will.”

“I guess we don’t have much of a choice.”

Francis and I worked fast. We found a length of plank leaning against the house and a shovel. Francis showed a good amount of chivalry by giving me the shovel and using the plank himself. At blurring speed we had a shallow grave dug, and I lowered Georgia into it. Everything seemed wrong—placing my friend in the ground, coaxing her mentally to wake as a ghoul, and not having a ceremony over her. I couldn’t do that in case you’re wondering.

When we were done, I straightened and stretched my arms above my head. The move was habit. My muscles didn’t ache. I met Francis’s solemn gaze. “Thank you so much for your help, Francis, and your advice. I know you can’t guarantee she’ll come through this, but just the effort…thanks.”

He might have nodded his head. I can’t be sure. My hair whipped across my face, and he was gone. I scanned the area around me and cocked my ears. Humans lived not far away, but none stirred at this hour. Stooped, I touched fingers to the dirt and whispered to my friend.

“Georgia, I’ll be back tomorrow night. Try your hardest to get up, okay? I promise. I
will
come.”

* * * *

When I woke the next night, I stopped long enough to feed. No more skipping meals for a while. Before I set on the road, I considered calling Violet but chickened out and decided to wait a couple more days to let her anger die down. If I had any luck—and Nathan liked to claim I had none—she wouldn’t have figured out that I almost killed her boyfriend. I decided not to bank on it though.

The plot where I left Georgia lay smooth as Francis and I had left it. That meant Georgia hadn’t risen yet. I bent down and listened hard, but there were no movements. Should I dig her out to see for myself or wait for her to break the surface on her own? Francis had said twenty-four hours, and I was early. Better to wait a little longer.

I paced the small plot of land, hands tucked behind my back. A dark window caught my eye, and that led me to taking in the entire house. In desperate need of repair, it nevertheless gave me a sense of nostalgia. I recalled the days when I had nothing more to worry about than if Jake wore clean underwear to school or if I had enough money in the bank to call a plumber for a leak. Oh wait, I still had money issues. Some things never change.

I longed for that old, simple life. Even thoughts of Sylvia Campbell trying to convince me that her pie was as good as my mama used to make wouldn’t be so bad right now.
Hah! As if.

Movement behind me dragged my thoughts from the past, and I turned slowly. I admit I was nervous about what I would find. Would Georgia be some crazed lunatic with nothing on her mind other than to eat humans? Once again my own selfishness came through clear to me, but it was too late to turn back.

“My hair,” Georgia screeched.

I spun around to take in the sight and stood at a loss for words.

“It all fell out,” she whined, holding the evidence in clumps in her hands. Georgia was right. Every strand had fallen out, and the poor thing had a misshapen skull that wasn’t quite round.

“So soon?” I whispered, not knowing what else to say. Then I shook myself. Georgia looked up at me pouting but in her right mind. I rushed to her and helped her to her feet. Brushing dirt from her clothing and skin, I examined her and sniffed. She did smell a bit like the earth, but she’d been napping in it for a day. A good shower would fix things and a change of clothing. My spirits rose. “You’re okay, honey? Nothing hurts?”

I touched her forehead. No fever but not warm. She wasn’t as cold as a vampire before he or she fed but not even close to ninety-eight point six degrees. Ah well. One couldn’t have everything.

Georgia seemed to take inventory of herself and the ground at her feet. I waited for her to ask what in the world she was doing there, but she scratched her arm and gazed up and down the alley. “Something smells really good, Rue.”

“Um, we cooked those yummy dishes just before you passed. There’s bound to be a residue scent clinging to you.”

While I gave this explanation, I didn’t believe it. Mind you, I wanted to believe the reason I gave was a valid one, but when Georgia totted over to the fence and leaned against it as if she strained toward the scent she picked up, I knew it wasn’t true.

“I’m hungry,” she announced.

“Okay, dear, come back over here a moment. Let’s—”

Humans. Of all times, two seemed to have arrived home late. Their movements enticed Georgia, and she was over the fence and running along the alley before I processed the fact that ghouls were born with certain abilities from hour one.

I caught her just feet from the spot where the two humans were hanging out on the porch. Georgia squealed in protest, and one of the men turned. I got her hidden in the shadows on the opposite side of the alley. All the way, she fought me, and it took my considerable strength to keep her silent.

“Hold on just a minute, Georgia,” I whispered in her ear. “I’ll help you to feel better. I have something for you.”

She stilled. The men disappeared into the house, and I released Georgia. She started for the back door, but I darted forward to put a barrier between her and the house. The cup I took from my pocket was small, but I hoped it would be enough. I made short work of syphoning off some of my blood and put as much as I dared into the cup. All New Orleans needed was a starving vampire and ghoul going on a binge at the same time. Someone had to maintain control, and it needed to be me.

“See, Georgia, a drink. You must be thirsty.”

I knew no one but a vampire would find the drink appealing, but I hoped she would just assume it was wine and down it before she knew the truth. No such luck. Georgia knocked my hand away with such force, the cup went flying, and I spun around. Before you assume this ghoul was stronger than me, I must inform you the dirt was loose, and I couldn’t get good footing.

Nevertheless, she made me feel silly out there, and I admit I grew angry. I leaped onto her, but Georgia was no pushover. We tumbled back and forth over the ground. She yelped so loud, just as Georgia would. The entire neighborhood must be awakening. I had no choice but to wrap my arms and legs around her middle from behind and jam my hand over her mouth to quiet her down. Georgia, determined to get free, chomped down. This time I had to clench my teeth to keep from crying out.

The pain was unbelievable, just like the time the ghoul in the theatre bit me. Ghoul infection in my system was some of the worst pain. I struggled for my voice and lost all strength. “G-Georgia, l-let go.”

I had hardly spoken the words before her teeth unlocked from my hand, and she lay as if she were dead on top of me. What just happened? Then I realized. Georgia must have swallowed a few drops of my blood. Drops, not a full glass. My ignorance appalled me.

I managed to get out from under her and knelt at her side. “Georgia?”

She blinked at me and smiled. “I’m hungry.”

This time I was ready when she came at me. A hand splayed in the middle of her chest, I dug my feet into the soil. All the same, my muscles strained. I had a flashback to my time as a schoolteacher, shaping young minds. Often little ones screamed and cried for what they wanted. So many days, I spoke calmly in response—don’t you know I wanted to cry, too, on many occasions. I recalled with some amusement what I never failed to say. “Use your words.”

So, Rue, use your words.

“Georgia, from now on you must never eat living humans.” I gagged. “Dead ones only, and you must not let the living ones know or see you. Do you understand?”

I waited, hoping against hope Francis was right. My arms ached, so I amended my order.

“Also, quit pushing. It’s rude, and it hurts.”

She stopped cold, and I thudded nose first against her. This was not my most graceful night. I stood straight and watched her with caution. She still looked agitated, and I realized it was because she couldn’t think clearly. Starvation will do that to a person. How long would my drops of blood last? Eternity? A month? A day? I needed to ask Francis more about it. First things first though.

“Georgia, do you understand?”

“Yes, Rue. You’re so picky.”

I squinted at her. Did she lose her conscience, or was it confusion? I supposed we would learn as we went along. After brushing dirt from my hands and clothes, I turned toward the alley. “Okay, sweetheart. First, we get you something to eat. Then we go get you some hair.”