One Blood

Chapter Six

“Forget those girls, Bill,” Randy said. “We’ve got other plans.”

“You serious?” Bill asked, following the blond and her buxom red-headed friend into a nondescript bar. The sign outside read: Jean Lafitte’s Old Absinthe House.

Lafitte, hmm. Maybe it’s a family-owned establishment.

“Come on, buddy, let’s get some beers,” Randy said, turning Bill away from the bar and pointing him in the opposite direction. Randy actually had no idea where he was going, but knew what he was looking for. He found it down a dark alleyway three blocks off Bourbon Street.

Explaining the essence of his plan to Bill, Randy got the response he anticipated.

“No way, Ran. I ain’t goin’ to no fortune teller.”

“Who said you were?” Randy pushed Bill out of the way. His eyes were drawn to the sign on the worn door before them.

GOOD FORTUNES, it promised.

Bill interrupted his reverie. “Somethin’ ain’t right about this place. Can we please go?”

 “Calm down, you big chicken,” Randy replied. “Drink your beer and wait for me.” Randy didn’t anticipate much help from a mere fortune teller, but hoped she could at least point him in the right direction. He was searching for a place where spells, curses, and secrets were traded. Where blood sacrifice was the only currency that mattered. And later at dinner, Bill would corroborate Randy’s story about how they’d spent their evening.

Randy winked at Bill and turned the knob.

“Now why you gotta go and do this, Ran. These places ain’t safe!”

“Only one way to find out,” Randy replied, pulling the door open. Lavender spice tickled his nostrils as he moved into the building. “See,” he said, “what’s so scary about this?”

Bill peered in briefly before Randy closed the door in his face.

Randy stared up a candle-lit stairway. “Hello! Anyone here?”

“Upstairs,” a girlish voice sang.

Well, here goes nothing.

Randy’s boldness was replaced with childlike fear and wonder. Swallowing his nerves, he slowly ascended the staircase, gazing cautiously at his surroundings. At the top, he was greeted by a golden light emanating from a room just off the landing. He looked around for the owner.

The space was empty, but for a myriad of plants and a small round table in the center of the room. Light radiated from a globe in the middle of the table. Randy sat in one of the two chairs and examined the sphere.

“You can touch it if you want,” a voice whispered, an inch from Randy’s right ear.