Page 39 of Mardi Gras Murders & Midnight Masquerades
I filed that away, neither accepting nor rejecting her information. We'd research it ourselves before trusting anything from Ms. I-Lost-The-Apocalypse-Pendant. I thanked her for the information. As we left the council chambers, the weight of what lay ahead pressed down on me like a cement truck. We needed more information.
The morning sun had fully risen as we stepped outside. It was bathing New Orleans in deceptively peaceful golden light. Somewhere in this city, an ancient mage wearing a stolen face was making his final preparations. And the clock was ticking down to Mardi Gras. The real planning would start when we were safely home, away from prying eyes and potential spies.
CHAPTER 12
Dakota
We left the council chambers with every supernatural faction in New Orleans watching our backs. I didn't know which bothered me more. The ones who thought we were walking into a suicide mission. Or the ones who would happily help us get there faster.
"That was productive," I muttered as we stepped onto the street. "Now we've got every supernatural in the city either wanting to 'help' us or waiting for us to fail spectacularly."
"At least Kaitlyn and Kaveh are genuinely on our side," Lia replied as she twined her fingers with Lucas’s.
Dre slowed her pace to match mine. "And Marie. Though I still don't fully trust her. This could all be a ploy to get us to lower our guard around her."
"Enemy of my enemy and all that jazz," I agreed. “Besides, we aren’t that stupid. We can accept her help while keeping our eyes fully open.”
"We need every ally we can get," Dani agreed.
A smile broke over my face when I saw my husbandapproaching us on the street. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”
He pulled me into his arms. "I want you guys to examine the Bacchus float. The krewe found 'strange markings' on several of them. I've also reached out to my contacts in the other krewes. If Bacchus has been compromised, the others probably have too. We can’t let them go out like that. Maybe you can change the markings so they don’t leave death and destruction in their wake."
"We are running out of time, but if we can cause this asshole problems, all the better. But we should split up," Dre decided. "Phi, Dea, and I will check the floats. Lia, Dani, and Kota, head back to the plantation. We need defenses against these sigils. And fast. Adèle is waiting to test the ideas she came up with when she spoke to her mom." Our feline familiar was a kitten, but had vast knowledge thanks to her bloodline. The unique situation required her to reach out to her mother who was the familiar to the Pleiades that was responsible for us becoming magical.
Separating was rarely a good idea, but the time constraints made it necessary. Part of me wanted to join Dre's team at the Bacchus den—to see those markings firsthand—but the dull ache in my body reminded me why I couldn't. The magical energy I'd expended manifesting that raft, had left me drained. Jeff and I would have been taken by those creepy minions if I hadn't managed to pull enough power together, but it had taken its toll.
Lia jingled her keys as we approached her SUV parked half a block from the council building. "Come on," she said before sliding into the driver's seat.
“I will meet you back at the plantation when I’m done with the others,” Jeff told me.
Nodding, I accepted his kiss and claimed shotgun. I watched through the window as Dre, Phi, and Dea went withJeff in the opposite direction. I hoped their purposeful strides only carried them toward the warehouse district where the Bacchus float waited and not danger. The SUV's engine roared to life, and Lia navigated through the narrow streets of the French Quarter before hitting the highway that would take us back to the plantation.
Two hours later, I was elbow-deep in ancient grimoires while Lia and Dani sketched the symbols we'd identified from the crime scenes onto blocks of wood. Adèle prowled around our workspace. Her sleek Siamese form darted between stacks of books and jumped onto the table to inspect our work with critical blue eyes.
"Your line work is sloppy," Adèle projected into our minds, tail swishing as she batted at Lia's pencil. "These must be precise to the micrometer, or they'll unravel under pressure when you use the counter-sigils."
"I'd like to see you try drawing perfect lines with paws," Lia muttered as she redrew the symbol.
"The counter-sigils need to mirror the Society's sigils without directly opposing them," Adèle continued. "Think of them as redirecting the energy rather than blocking it. If these aren’t precise then your attempt to subvert them will not work."
"Like a magical judo move?" Lia asked.
"Precisely," Adèle purred. "The mage's magic has too many components to block directly. But properly redirected, his own energy could become a weapon against him."
My phone buzzed with an incoming message from Jeff. My heart skipped when I saw the images he'd sent. "Holy shit," I breathed, turning the screen so my sisters could see. "Jeff found something at the Orpheus den."
The photos showed intricate sigils carved into the bases of three parade floats. They were nearly identical to the ones we'd seen in the tunnels beneath Jackson Square. “Those subtle variations from the markings belowground will make them even more efficient at channeling energy,” Adèle pointed out.
That was not surprising to hear. It seemed to be par for the course. "Jeff says they're on every float he's checked," I explained. "The krewe leaders think they're just decorative woodwork added by their craftsmen."
Adèle jumped onto my shoulder to peer at the screen. "We need to perfect the counter-sigils so we can have them turn these against the mage."
"Wait," Lia pointed to one particular image. "That sigil is different from the others. It doesn’t look like Society work."
I zoomed in and felt my blood turn to ice. The symbol had an additional set of lines that fundamentally changed its purpose. It wasn't designed to collect energy. It was designed to redirect it somewhere else.
"How can the Society think they're building these power collectors for their own ritual?" I blurted. "Someone has clearly altered the designs. The energy isn't going to the Society at all. I know that. How do they not?"
