Son of No One (2 page)

“Swear it.”

“And where are they investigating? The LaLaurie mansion?”

Selena shook her head. “Karma's house.”

It figured. In their long familial line of peculiar characters and those willing to believe in flying fairies, alien possessions, and Santa Claus, Karma Devereaux was Queen Lunatica … the woman had even nicknamed her own son E.T. and the kid's real name was Ian.

“Lainie, if I roll my eyes any farther back in my head, I'll probably swallow them.”

Selena reached over and playfully Gibbs-slapped her.

“Hey!”

“You needed it. Besides, that cynicism will serve us well. We need someone who doesn't spook onsite with the camera.”

“Yes, well, having survived many a sleepover and family reunion with you bunch of loons, I'm immune to
most
anything. Aunt Xilla not included.”

“Good. I'll call everyone and tell them to be at Karma's by eleven tomorrow. Will that work for you?”

“Maybe.” Jo narrowed her gaze on Selena as she pulled up to Baskin-Robbins. “You still haven't told me how much I'll make for this misbegotten journey to the Armpit of Hades, AKA Karma's.”

“Three hundred and fifty a day, plus meals.”

Jo gaped. “You're joshing me.”

“Nope. That's what we've had to go up to, to entice anyone to the job. But we have yet to pay anyone more than twenty bucks for their fifteen-minute appearance, and most have told us to keep our money because they're afraid it's cursed or haunted, too.”

Jo scoffed at the paranoia. “What a bunch of superstitious pansies.…” But that might be a good thing for her. “You think I can get four hundred a day?”

“At this point? Probably.” Selena reached for her phone. “I'll text Mama Lisa and find out.”

“All right. You get me that, and you have a fearless photographer, camerawoman, gofer, janitor … whatever.”

“Would you be willing to spend the night there, too?”

“No,” Jo said emphatically.

Selena looked up from the phone with an arched brow. “I thought you weren't afraid.”

“Not afraid of ghosts or demons. I'm terrified of Karma. No offense, your sister's crazy.”

“Yes, she is. Honestly, she scares me, too.” Selena's smile widened. “Mama Lisa agrees to your price. She said that if you'll actually make it through three days of filming, there's a thousand-dollar bonus for you.”

Jo was almost ecstatic. Until the reality fairy came and slapped her. Suddenly terrified, she started searching the sky above them.

“What's that look mean?” Selena asked as she, too, searched the heavens.

“Things are going too good.” She slid her gaze back to her cousin. “I'm waiting for lightning to strike me.”

“Don't be ridiculous. It's a perfectly sunny day.”

“Yeah, and hell's just a hot tub. I'm telling you, Lainie, something real bad's going to happen. I know it.”

'Cause from the moment of her first breath, she'd been cursed. And nothing
ever
worked out for her.

*   *   *

“Hey, Ma?”

Karma Devereaux sighed heavily as she heard her son's call from the hallway upstairs. She stepped out of her living room to look up at the landing. “I'm a little busy, Boo. What do you need?”

As her twelve-year-old leaned over the balustrade to look down at her, his dark curls were a mess around his head as if he'd been out in a wind. Something strange, since it'd been a warm day with little breeze. “You know this freaky-creepy weird vase up here that has that moon rune writing on it? The one you told me to never touch?”

The blood left her face. “You didn't touch it, did you?”

“Nope. But Rug made another break for freedom and when I cornered him in the room I'm not supposed to be in, I saw it on the floor, broken. And I swear to all that is holy, neither me nor the hamster did it. It looks like it's been done.”

Terrified for her son, Karma ran up the stairs as fast as she could. “Did you touch
any
thing?”

E.T. held up the hamster cuddled in his hands. “Just Rug.”

“Put him in his cage.” She waited for her son to leave before she entered the room cautiously. Dread consumed her, and as soon as she saw the broken vase, she knew why. That hadn't fallen on the floor and broken by accident.

Something had caused it to
shatter
.

And that explained why there'd been so much activity in her house lately. Why everyone new ran screaming for the door.

One of the oldest, deadliest beings in the universe had been set loose.

Sick to her stomach, she pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed the number of last resort.

Zeke answered on the first ring. “Pest Control by Zeke Jacobson. What's eating your soul today?”

“You're really not funny.”

He ignored her droll tone. “Karma? That you?”

“Yeah. We got a problem, buddy, and I need the cavalry.”

“What'd you do now?”

“I swear I didn't do this. I'm really not sure how this happened, but … Valac escaped.”

“Please tell me that when you say that, you mean he's slamming at your doors and wants out to play. Not that he's out, out, as in out.”

“He gone. High-tailed. Skedaddled. I didn't even know he'd broken loose. No idea when he took off.”

“Was he summoned?”

She toed at the vase. “Yeah,” she breathed. “But how did they get to him past my protection?”

“No idea. But they had to be strong and fierce in their own right. Given that, I've got to call out the heavy artillery.”

“You
are
the heavy artillery, Zeke. Isn't that the whole point of a Necrodemian? You kill the big evil.”

“Yes and no. There are roughly one hundred known demons who are beyond our abilities to battle and kill. Those who have origins so powerful and old that they have been sealed away and are supposed to stay there. For this level of demon, we need nuclear-devastation capabilities. Only one of his ilk can battle him and put him back in his bottle without dying in the process.”

“Wait. You're not proposing we summon a stronger, more
evil
demon to capture him?”

Zeke was about to draw Thorn into a horrific mess. More than anyone, Karma knew what a bad idea that was. The last thing Thorn needed was temptation. Everyday, he was slipping toward the realm of his father, she could feel it every time they talked. But Zeke was right. What choice did they have?

“Yeah, we don't call the Hellchasers out often. They're like rabid dogs, and we're usually fighting them as well as the gruesomes. However, it's the only option in this case. Unless you want Valac free to roam, and I don't think that's a good idea, especially with Halloween coming. Just hang tight, and I'll be there as soon as I can.”

Karma hung up the phone as she scanned the room where she warehoused and cleansed some of the scariest relics and items in the paranormal realm. She'd never wanted to keep Valac, but when her sister Tiyana had died, she'd inherited his guardianship. Tiyana had made her promise that should anything happen to her, Karma wouldn't entrust his container to anyone else. Not for any reason.

Now …

Please don't let this be the worst mistake of my life.

 

2

Jo had just finished packing her gear into her rusted-out 1964 Ford Falcon that used to be red, but now was more primer gray than anything else, when her cell phone began ringing. Answering it, she went to the driver's side and tossed her purse in.

“Hey, coz. Quick change of plans. We're not meeting at Karma's. Rather, we got an emergency call in for the Gardette-LePretre Mansion on Dauphine.”

“You've got to be kidding me. That weird old place where the sultan and his harem were slaughtered?”

“That's the one. See you there … oh, and the man's paying us through the nose. Your bonus just had a baby! Mazel tov!”

Hoping this wasn't an additional sign of a pending Apocalypse, Jo hung up and got into the car. Well, she'd always had a morbid fascination about the place that was only a couple of blocks from her family's Voodoo store, Erzulie's. When they'd been kids, their aunt Kalila had regaled them with scary stories about that old mansion and the horrors that had taken place there almost two hundred years ago.

Yeah.

But she couldn't quite suppress the sadness at the thought of driving past the store where her cousin Tiyana had died. Since that horrible night, she'd done her best to avoid the entire street. She could only imagine how much worse it had to be for Selena and her sisters, especially Tabitha, who now owned it.

Out of all the mixed nuts in the Devereaux bowl, Tiyana had been one of Jo's favorites. Though she'd never believed in any of what her father called their otherworldly crap, Jo used to stop by and nab the special oils and soaps that T and their aunt Ana made for Erzulie's.

Don't think about it.

It was hard not to. The one lesson Jo had learned was just how fast life changed. One minute you were walking along in a little cocoon of copasetic numbness. And the next … bam! Your world went skidding off the rails, leaving your heart in little bloody chunks on the sidewalk, that made you wonder how you'd ever be able to put it back together again.

It really ought to be illegal for life to do that without
any
warning.

Disgusted, she turned the ignition key. Her car sputtered to life with a death rattle and a great belch of black smoke that fanned out for a full block. Yeah, it was embarrassing, but she had to give the old Falcon credit. At age fifty, it had more life in it than she did at present.

Pushing everything out of her mind except the Prince song on the radio, she headed over to Dauphine, where Selena and Karma were already waiting, along with four women she'd never met before.

Jo pulled up behind Selena's Jeep and parked on the street. After an extremely long and humiliating round of yeah-I-turned-my-car-off-and-it's-still-running,–don't-know-if-it'll-ever-stop-so-bite-my-heinie-and-be-glad-it's-not-you, she got out and gathered her bags. As she neared the others, she couldn't help noticing the expressions on everyone's face that said they had a bet going to see how long she'd last.

Sidling up to Selena, she grinned. “Put me down for eight.”

“Eight what?”

“How long I'll last before I run screaming for home.”

Karma laughed.

The rest looked confused.

With a dismissive snort, Selena gestured toward the petite blonde on her right. “Jo, meet our fearless leader and primary exorcist, Mama Lisa. She's the one who does the
Voices Carry
Internet radio show on Wednesday nights.”

Jo knew the show well. It was the only one Karma listened to that she could stand.

Holding her hand out, Jo inclined her head to the woman with friendly eyes and a beautiful smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.”

Next, Selena indicated the two brown-haired women who looked enough alike to be related. “Sister Jordan and her real sister, Sarah.”

They exchanged pleasantries.

“And last, but never least, Mistress Mercy.”

Plump and adorable, she flashed a set of deep dimples. “Hi, Jo. Hope you don't scare easily. We've got a doozy today.”

Jo winked at her. “Looking forward to it.”

“You're not scared?” Lisa asked doubtfully.

“You've met Karma, right? Imagine sharing summer bathrooms and beds with her. She's a pig. Nothing scares me more than her midnight bathtub rituals.”

They all laughed. Even Karma.

“All right, Ms. Unflappable.” Karma grabbed the bag from Jo's shoulder. “Get ready for scary!” She made a fake bwa-ha-ha laugh as she left.

Jo passed a less-than-impressed stare at Selena. “I feel like I'm stuck at the lake house with her again … help me.”

Shaking her head, Selena grabbed the tripod and carried it in. Jo followed them, but hesitated in the foyer. Not because she was scared, but because it was absolutely lovely. While the outside of the house was classical Greek Revival, complete with ornate wrought-iron balcony—the whole nine yards—the inside was completely modern and contemporary.

Polished woods. Ceiling fans. Beautiful coffered ceilings. Exquisite.

Jo tried not to gape in awe. “I thought this was apartments.”

Selena set the tripod down. “It was. A year ago August, it was bought and converted to a single home. Nine bedrooms, ten baths. Over seven thousand square feet of utter evil.”

“Doesn't look evil. Looks really nice.”

“Thank you.”

Jo turned at the sound of the man's deep voice. Dressed in a green golf shirt, he was middle-aged and held the air of a man in charge.

“Cal,” Lisa said in greeting. “Thanks for letting us do this.”

“No, thank
you
for coming. After last week, my wife has refused to return. She's already calling to have the place relisted. Wish she'd done that before the last remodeling bill. But what can you do? Cheaper than divorce lawyers, I guess.”

Selena pulled out a spiral-bound vinyl notebook that had cute little monsters on the cover, and a feathered flamingo pen. So much for looking professional. “What exactly's been going on?”

“Honestly, nothing at first. We were here for almost a year with no occurrences whatsoever. Like everyone else, we thought the stories about the place being haunted were bogus. And then…”

Selena looked up. “What?”

“We came in one night from dinner out and there was a strange odor. I can't even describe how foul it was. We thought maybe a sewer line had backed up or something.”

Lisa paused next to the hall console table. “Something was out of place right here.” She waved her hand over the bowl of marble balls.