Crescent City Shadows

Chapter 1: Bellatrix Stellaris

The first thing Bellatrix noticed was the music. It was wrong. Not disastrously wrong. No shrieking violins. No drunken pianist mangling a sonata. Nothing that would send patrons fleeing into the humid New Orleans night with their hands clapped over their ears.

It was merely too loud.

Bellatrix paused halfway down the sweeping staircase and listened with the solemn concentration of a queen hearing troubling news from the border.

A heavy pulse rolled through the empty nightclub, rattling the crystal glasses lined behind the bar. Blue and violet light spilled across black and marble floors, catching on silver fixtures and the polished edges of private booths. The song was modern, repetitive, and possessed an alarming quantity of bass.

She disliked it immediately.

"Jules."

The young vampire behind the sound both jolted so sharply that one of his headphones slipped off his ear. He looked down at her.

Bellatrix stood on the staircase in a gown of black velvet and lace, one gloved hand resting against the banister. Her skirt pooled around her feet like a shadow with excellent posture. She had dressed for the evening several hours before the staff arrived, though she understood that most modern business owners did not require embroidered sleeves, a fitted corset, or a skirt wide enough to sweep small objects from nearby tables.

Modern business owners lacked standards.

"Yes, ma'am?" Jules called.

Bellatrix lifted one eyebrow.

He winced, lowered the volume, and descended from the booth. By the time reached the bottom of the stairs, he had already begun apologizing.

"I was just testing the speakers. We had that buzzing problem in the east corner last night, and Nico said it might be the connection, but I thought maybe if I pushed the volume–"

"The building is more than two centuries old," Bellatrix said. "If you push the volume any further, the connection will no longer be our chief concern. The ceiling will collapse."

Jules glanced upward.

Bellatrix followed his gaze.

A chandelier hung above them, its black crystal drops trembling faintly from the lingering vibration.

"Perhaps not tonight," she allowed. "But eventually."

"Right. Sorry."

"You needn't apologize for correcting a problem." Her gaze returned to him. "Only for creating a new one in the process."

A small smile tugged at his mouth. He had worked for her for nearly six months and was finally learning that her sharpest statements were not always punishments.

"Keep the music at a level that encourages dancing," she said, continuing down the steps. "Not structural damage."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And remove that song from tonight's list."

His expression fell. "Really?"

"It sounds as though someone trapped a swarm of hornets inside a metal cabinet."

"It's number three on the charts."

Bellatrix stopped.

Jules seemed to realize his mistake.

"I'm sure the other two are lovely," she said.

She left him to mourn the song in private. The club would open in forty-seven minutes. Bellatrix knew this because the clock displayed upon her office wall had been adjusted to the correct time that morning by one of her employees. Her mobile telephone had also attempted to tell her the hour, but she had accidentally opened a weather application instead and spent several minutes wondering why the date was accompanied by a cartoon sun.