Page 95 of The Cruelest Undead

And I don’t need to share your head with Jesus. We’re at a stalemate.

Rinnon, we’re babysitting two soulless humans who could die again. My life is complicated and it’s getting worse. Can you not today?

Rinnon said nothing about complicated things.

Why?

Yeah, Flynn should tell him something he didn’t know. He was stuck on this ride too.

In a small vessel.

And who knew what was coming next?

Not him.

* * *T u e u rA n t i q u i t i e s* * *

Friday Morning

The Harcourte Society

New Orleans

It was a walk down memory lane, and most of the time that they had here, really had been pretty damn good. When they’d had to leave Philadelphia, and head to a safer place,New Orleanswelcomed them.

It had been a good home too.

There were days that they missed it, and truth be told, it had been a battle.

They’d fought for their place here.

They did battle against the Tueur, Death one-point-oh, and countless assholes who came for them, and each time, they’d come out on top.

Because they were survivors, and now, they reigned in this town. The societies spoke of them as legends, and it was well deserved.

They’d died a few times here too.

Still, leaving here had been difficult, and while they loved Paris, and that was Jolie and Jacques’s homeland,New Orleanscalled to them.

It was the people.

The atmosphere.

The dead.

As they popped into the front yard of the estate, it was as regal as it had been when they left there. From the grounds to the stately home tucked into the trees with the Spanish moss draped throughout their boughs…

It called to their souls.

And that was ironic since they had none.

The plantation style porch was inviting, and it brought back memories of kisses stolen, hands held, and the love they’d found in the middle of the storm.

And the calm.

There was calm here too. Those moments were cherished more than anything.

Yeah, it was good to be home.

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