The Casquette Girls (55 page)

Before the sun rose, I raised my hand, and all nine thousand nails rose from the crate and went pounding into the shutters. Instead of
setting fire to the attic as we had originally planned before this tragic turn of events, we cast a sleeping spell, sending all of its inhabitants into a life-preserving coma and buying us time to figure out a way to get the girls out safely.

At least, that is what we told each other. But we all knew that the lives of Minette and Lisette Monvoisin had ended that night.

I quickly read my translation out loud to Désirée and Isaac. I didn’t intend to skip parts, but my eyes naturally flew past the words when I got to the parts about the Saint-Germain’s family affairs.
My family’s affairs.

“What was that chick’s name?” Désirée grabbed Adeline’s diary from me and began scouring the pages. I became nervous that she might notice the parts I had
left out. “There she is: Morning Star… the seventh coven member.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. The French words had kept our family secrets.

“How the
hell
are we supposed to find the descendant of someone named Morning Star?” she asked. “Why do I have a feeling she is not going to be in some kind of eighteenth-century phone book?”

“Probably because there were no eighteenth-century phone books,” Isaac said.

Desiree rolled her eyes. “You know what I meant.”

“Listen to this,” I said and began to translate the next two entries out loud.

(cont.)

The feeling is indescribable, Papa. The whole world feels like it is slightly off balance, like I have drunk too deep of the bubbly wine…

I did not think, nor did I hesitate, before I killed that woman, whom, before last night, I had never even laid eyes on, although… something tells me that she had laid eyes on me.

So, I now know the answer to the dilemma I posed to myself that night on the S.S. Gironde, when I first saw Gabriel Medici running across the masts to the crow’s nest. Was I capable of taking one life to save the lives of others?

I would kill one hundred more of them if it meant I could bring back Lisette and Minette Monvoisin. It should not have been those two who found eternal slumber.

After we cremated the corpse and disposed of the remains in the river, we sat at the water’s edge, watching the sunrise and basking in the glory of that big ball of fire. We mourned the lives of our fallen sisters, and brothers, and all of the others who had died by the fangs of the monsters.

You are the only one who will ever know, Papa, that as I sat there, holding Cosette and stoically staring at the rising sun,
that I was secretly glad we hadn’t torched the attic. That we hadn’t killed Gabriel.

28th Nov 1728

Months have gone by, the season has changed, and I am afraid this is the final chapter for our little circle of casquette girls. Morning Star is moving further out with her tribe, as the strife between the French and the Indians worsens. As a parting gift, she gave me a silver, eight-pointed charm and said that “as long as we live under the same blanket of stars, we will be sisters.”

Susannah received a marriage proposal from a merchant. I suspect they met prior to La Nouvelle-Orléans, for I have never seen two people so happy to have found each other. They plan to leave tomorrow for the port of New York. I wish for their happiness, but Susannah’s absence will make my heart heavy. I’ve learned so much from these two women in such a short period of time. I will carry their spirits with me every day, and I do hope we can all meet again in the future.

As for the rest of les filles aux cassettes, I turned lead into gold to replace their dowries. I know I am only supposed to do this under grave circumstances, Father, but this is the only chance these girls have to be married. If it wasn’t for me, the vampires wouldn’t have used their royally-bestowed cassettes as coffins to rest in. Everyone in the town knows of your wealth, so there was not one eyebrow raised when the gold was suddenly procured.

Martine’s affairs were all left in perfect order, which leads me to believe that she really did beg Gabriel to turn her into a vampire. She named me as her sole beneficiary and left the proper paperwork to declare Marassa a free woman.

Every day, Marassa and I stroll to the port to see if the arriving ships are carrying you or her brother. They never are.

But we worry most about Cosette. She hasn’t been the same since that night. She wanders the streets after dark, lamenting her sisters and blaming herself for their deaths. Every night she ends her wandering by seeking solace in the arms of another man.

She lures them in with her looks and her lullabies. It’s as if she is trying to use up all of her powers so she can forget who she is. Her behavior eventually got her banned from the convent, after which she refused to stay with me, so as not to tarnish my reputation. Marassa and I watch over her silently from afar. I tell myself she just needs time. I know she will end up on top; after all, she is the granddaughter of La Voisin Magnifique, one of the greatest, most scandalous sorceresses in the history of Paris.

* * *

I closed Adeline’s diary. “Hmm
… Cosette Monvoisin got banned from the convent for—”

“Stop thinking about the brothel, Adele. There’s nothing behind those doors other than antique perfume bottles, opium pipes, and STD-filled air—”

“Gross!” I said, but smiled.
Opiu
m
…
“Did you read how Martine was so messed up when she died, it made Gabriel loaded when he drank from her?”

Désirée looked up from her stirring her pot. “Unless you want to get loaded so we can use you as bait to weaken them, come and help me with this spell.”

“Hmm,” I murmured.

“Don’t even think about it,” Isaac
quickly said.

“Hmm.”

“Adele! There will be
no
martyrs tomorrow night.” He looked at each of us.

“You don’t have to tell me that,” said Désirée. “And, technically, you mean tonight. It’s past midnight.” Navy-blue smoke began to rise from her pot, swirling around in perfect loops as she moved her fingers.

“What is that?” I asked.

“It’s a Heightening Elixir, but it’s not going to be ready until tonight. I figured that since none of us can control their minds like Cosette Monvoisin could, we’re going to need all the strength we can get.”

“She controlled their hearts, not their minds,” I corrected.

“Okay, well, not
all
of
us
can control vampire hearts.” Désirée smirked, wagging her eyebrows.

I immediately blushed. “I can’t control—” I couldn’t even get the rest of the sentence out with the way Isaac was looking at me
– with that overwhelming disappointment he was so good at. I pretended to focus on Susannah’s sketchbook, which was open in his lap.

“Too bad we can’t dose them with some kind of reversal elixir,” he said. “Even out the playing field a little more.”

“That would require getting them to ingest something… just like you are going to have to do.”

As she went on about how she had created the elixir, I focused on the sketchpad. The two open pages were covered in drawings of three plants labeled
Green Anise, Sweet Fennel, and Artemisia Absinthiu
m
.
In the upper-right corner was a tunic-wearing goddess, under which was a banner that said, “
Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt
.”

“Ha
! This reminds me of my Halloween costume.”

“You’re dressing up as a Greek Goddess?” Isaac asked.

“No, not Artemis; the plant.”

“You’re dressing up as a flower?”

“Not exactly…” My voice trailed off as an idea danced into my head. “We can’t control their minds…” I looked up with excitement. “But what if they couldn’t control their minds either?”

“You’re doing that thing where you don’t make sense
.”

I point
ed to the page. “This isn’t just
any
recipe for absinthe. It’s instructions for how to enchant the herbs!”

“Let me see that,” said Désirée.

Isaac passed her the sketchbook. We both scurried behind and peered at the pages over her shoulder. “Fennel and anise we could get, maybe,” he said, “but where would we get
Artemisia absinthiu
m
,
whatever the hell that is?”

“Pfft,” Desiree said, and we both followed her out through the curtain. She walked straight to the wall of herbs and tossed a jar to Isaac. “Wormwood. As it’s known on the streets.”

“So,” I asked her, “can you do it?”

“I can brew it, but there’s still one problem. It’s still a Percolation Potion.”

“Meaning?”

“It still needs to be ingested—”

“Can you make it undetectable?”

“My gran could, easily… but me… on the first try? Probably not.”

“So we’d have to spike something they’d want to drink.”

“Something with a really strong flavor – taste and smell.”

“You make the potion and leave the rest to me—”

“Like hell—” Isaac interrupted.

“Isaac!” I yelled. “I’m not going to dose myself into human bait! Contrary to what you might think, I do
not
want to be eaten by a vampire.” I wasn’t sure whether my words were more for his sake or mine – Isaac and Désirée must have been wondering the same thing because they both stared at me in shock. “The moonshine,” I said in a quiet voice. “We’re going to lace the Hurricane Hootch.”

Désirée started laughing. “That’s kind of brilliant.”

“Then why are you laughing?” I asked.

“Because the only way we can guarantee that it will hit their lips is if we spike the entire batch.”

I started giggling too.

“I don’t get it,” Isaac said.

“All those curfew-breakers drinking at illegal little Le Chat Noir are going to be extra loaded tonight,” I answered.

“Ha. That’s sounds pretty par for the course, from what I hear.”

“Yeah,” said Désirée, pulling more jars from the shelves, “I don’t think the locals are going to mind one little bit.” She handed us each a jar of herbs and two large rocks. “Don’t stop grinding until you’re left with nothing but powder.”

A couple of hours later, I put the last stopper in the last little bottle and massaged my aching fingers. The bottles looked like little perfume samplers, but the clear contents were nothing so innocent. My nerves were starting to fry
.

* * *

A copy of
La Dolce Vit
a
was waiting on my doorstep when I arrived home at dawn with Isaac, who had insisted on walking me. Luckily, the alleged “cinematic masterpiece” meant nothing to him, so I was spared any further lectures on my choices in men.

He stood in front of my stoop with confidence, but his fingers were anxiously turning the little vial around and around in the front pocket of his jeans.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you to the bar?” I asked.

“No, it will appear too suspicious if someone sees you out this late. It’s too risky. I can just fly in and out.”

“
D’accor
d
.
But no perching tonight
,
oka
y?
Go straight home after, and get some sleep. We’ll need all our strength tomorrow.”

“All right,” he said, but didn’t move. “It’s so weird.”

“What?”

“That you know all of my secrets now.”

“I know. It’s weird that you know mine, too. But it’s kinda nice. I hate secrets.”

“Me too. I just wish I’d told you sooner.”

“You tried... but I wouldn’t listen.”

“Well, I don’t want you to listen to guys who break into your house and attack you… even if it
is
an accident,” he tried to joke. “I’m sorry for keeping things from you, Adele. I promise I won’t anymore.”

As my pulse picked up, I grasped the little plastic DVD box, quickly kissed him on the cheek and slipped inside.

My jacket hit the bedroom floor next to my unlaced boots; I didn’t even bother undressing before I flopped onto my bed and slipped under the covers. The film, still clutched in my right hand, taunted me. I contemplated watching it. Then I contemplated leaving to find Nicco so I could hand it back to him while saying something cutting about his family’s fascist behavior.

I shoved it under my pillow, unopened.

Do not think about him, Adel
e
.