Page 43 of Mardi Gras Murders & Midnight Masquerades
"There is a way to disrupt his ritual network," Adèle added. "His shadow hounds mark the vulnerable points in his magical circuit."
"You must act quickly. The masquerade is days away," Eliara said. "Delacroix has had centuries to prepare."
Dre stepped forward resolutely. "We'll do what we always do—stop him, protect our city, and send him back to hell."
"You could help us," I pointed out.
"I've already helped more than I should have," Eliara replied as she faded into mist. "Remember. Delacroix doesn't fight alone. The Society may be his pawns, but they're loyal to him and have power."
Standing in his lair, we now had a name and better understanding of our enemy, but time was running out. "What's our next move?" Dre asked.
"You must identify the weak points and then construct counter-sigils for each shadow hound," Adèle projected. "Those locations are where you can infiltrate Delacroix's network. If we disrupt those junctions before the ritual?—"
"We could turn his power against him," Phi finished. She’d just arrived but was already taking notes.
"We need to learn everything we can from this place," I suggested, "then prepare our counter-attack. If Delacroix wants vessels, we'll make sure he gets more than he bargained for."
My sisters nodded determinedly. Adèle wound between our legs, her purr connecting us in shared purpose. The masquerade approached. Delacroix believed it would be his moment of triumph. We were determined that it would become his final failure. Time would tell who came out on top.
CHAPTER 13
Dahlia
We arrived back at the plantation in the late afternoon. Each of us carried fragments of ancient masks and books from Delacroix's workshop. Knowledge was our best weapon right now, and we needed every scrap we could get. I'd stuffed my backpack so full of journals that the strap had started to dig painfully into my shoulder. A little discomfort was nothing compared to what we were facing.
Lucas caught my eye across the library as we spread our findings across the massive oak table. His eyes held a mix of concern and determination that made my heart do that annoying little flutter thing. Even in crisis mode, my body apparently couldn't help reminding me how I felt about him. I never thought I was one of those women who mooned over their partners. Yet, here I was doing exactly that.
"You got a text," he said, nodding toward my phone which was buzzing across the table.
I picked it up, expecting Kota's update on the counter-sigils she and Phi were developing. Instead, I found a message from Detective Payne. "Found something inarchives. Cold cases spanning centuries. They don’t have the same MO but similar marks. Meet at station ASAP."
"Payne thinks he's found a connection between other historical murders and this situation," I told the others as I got to my feet. "I'm going to talk to him."
Dre looked up from the ancient tome she was examining. "Do you think it's connected to Delacroix?"
"I have no idea. He mentioned marks. And considering everything we've learned so far, I'd bet my last Monster Ultra there could be something there." I zipped up my jacket and turned to Lucas. "Coming with?"
He was already on his feet with his keys in hand. "Always."
"Keep working on the counter-attack," I instructed my sisters. "And you might want to check that mask. I think the wards are slipping again. We don’t want to fall prey to Delacroix."
Dani nodded, her eyes never leaving the ancient text she was translating. "We'll call if anything changes. Be careful."
"Aren't I always?" I flashed a grin that earned me five synchronized eye-rolls. Fair enough.
Twenty minutes later, Lucas pulled his truck into the NOPD parking lot. The station was relatively quiet. The receptionist was expecting us and showed us to the conference room where Detective Payne was waiting for us. He was surrounded by a tablet, stacks of file boxes, and accordion folders so old they were practically disintegrating. Dark circles under his eyes suggested he hadn't slept since we'd last seen him. No doubt, he'd been digging. He was like a dog with a bone.
"Thanks for coming," he said. He gestured to the wall behind him where he'd pinned photos, newspaper clippings, and handwritten notes. The timeline he’d created spanned the entire length of the room. "I've been pulling cold cases. I started looking for similar signature elements toour current murders. When I realized many were overlooked, I started looking through all of them."
"And?" I prompted, already scanning the timeline.
"And I found something disturbing." He handed me a stack of manila folders. "These are unsolved murders dating back to 1830. These occurred at other times of the year. Spring festivals, summer solstice, winter equinox. No one ever connected them because they seemed random."
I flipped through the folders. My stomach tightened with each gruesome photo and detailed report. "It wasn’t until I noticed a marking in a photo. It was similar to at least one found on the victims during carnival season. In these cases, there aren’t as many, and they're positioned differently on each victim. This asshole doesn’t always need all of the ones he uses every fifty years.
"No detective would have had reason to connect them," Payne continued. "This series in April 1873 was blamed on a cult called Les Disciples du Sang. A cluster in December 1912 was attributed to a group called The Midnight Order." He moved down the timeline. "A pair of murders during the summer solstice in 1973 were supposedly the work of a serial killer named Thomas Marlet, though he was never caught."
Lucas stepped closer to examine a particularly disturbing autopsy photo. "The sigils were hidden and didn’t seem like a prominent part of the death."
