Any characters you recognize are the property of Sherrilyn Kenyon. She retains all rights to the characters and does not authorize this work. This is solely for mine and hopefully my friends’ amusement. No money is being made off of this story. This is rated PG for now….that may change.
This was just a new idea I had cuz I needed something to occupy my mind. I hope you like it. This section is more of an introduction so hopefully it won’t bore you… oh and this hasn’t been beta’d so keep that in mind….
Hugs,
Maggie
Jennifer Elisabeth Hearson flicked her long golden hair back over her shoulder as she stood at the airport rental car check-in desk. All it had taken was the mention of her last name to get the man behind the counter jumping to get her car ready. The name was one that demanded respect. It was assumed she had the power and money to break anyone she wanted. Three generations of honest, generous, family loving, Hearsons had not been able to erase the fear one miserly old man had attached to surname. The fact that it was Jenny’s own great-great grandfather who had created this legacy only made her more determined to be as kind and considerate to others as possible. Perhaps, someday her family would create enough good repay those once hurt.
Smiling at the clerk as he came back to give her the paperwork along with her keys, the Dorian Squire bit her lip. She should wait for the people who were in line ahead of her to be helped, but her paperwork was done. Standing there wasn’t going to change that and would probably just make the clerk slower to help the others that were desperately trying to get his attention. Besides she was worried about her chat buddy Nick. Rumors were rife on the squire boards that something nasty had gone down and no one had heard from Nick since. She was anxious to see for herself if there were any clues to his disappearance.
Jenny grabbed the keys and stuffed the paperwork in her backpack. She grabbed her suitcase and duffel bag off the floor as she headed out the door to the parking lot. At least the clerk hadn’t tried to talk her into take a more upscale car this time. With the areas she wanted to scout out, flashy was definitely not the way to go. She stopped to look at her reflection in the glass door that just closed. Smiling at the royal blue tee shirt that said “Save A Horse, Ride a Cowgirl,” that just barely clung to her full figure and the faded denim jeans that hugged her rounded tush, she thought, ‘well not flashy but not without resources either.’
She threw everything except her backpack onto the floor of hatchback in the gray Toyota Matrix she had rented. Getting behind the wheel, she checked the map her boss had given her to the hotel she where she was booked. She was picking up a few items for the Denver Museum of Nature and Science while she was down here. Her crew had teased her about being demoted from a respected archaeologist to a glorified courier but that was okay. They didn’t need to know she had her own reasons for wanting to come. If retrieving some trinkets for Mike, the chief Museum Curator, helped her find out what happened to her friend, she would gladly endure the ribbing she was sure to get when she got home.
Driving down the old streets toward her hotel, Jenny had a difficult time keeping her eyes on the road. She had heard so much about this town from her friends. She had wanted to come see the area for some time. Unfortunately, Bourbon Street had never seemed like a good family vacation destination to her parents when she was younger. She hadn’t been able to find assignments here as an adult either.
There wasn’t much need for what some call professional grave robbers in a city built below sea level. There was a definite lack of graves due to the high water level. She would love to check out some of the above ground historic cemeteries if she got the chance before she left the city though. One of these days she would have to allow herself a bona fide long vacation rather than just glorified business trips or weekend get-aways. She just hated taking time away from her work.
Turning onto St Charles Avenue, Jenny pulled the Matrix to a stop in front of the impressive Pontchartrain Hotel. She certainly couldn’t fault Mike’s choice of accommodations. She had read about this historic Garden District hotel in all the tourist guides she had devoured on the plane ride here. No, she wasn’t here on vacation but knowing where the tourists congregated would be helpful. She didn’t expect to find information on Nick in any of the tourist spots, but she had to start somewhere. At the least, being a wandering tourist would be a good cover story.
She was drawn out of her musings by a tap on the driver’s side window. Turning her head, she was greeted by the smiling face of a valet. Smiling back, she grabbed her backpack, then opened the door and took a claim check from him. Walking around to the back of the car, a bellhop was already waiting for her. She popped open the hatchway and pointed at the duffle bag and suitcase. Over the past few years, she had learned to travel light. There weren’t many bellhops or concierges at the dig sites she usually frequented these days. So, she really didn’t need the young man’s help but it wouldn’t kill her. He no doubt had bills to pay too.
Walking inside she headed up to the reservation desk and gave her name to the head clerk. After checking his screen repeatedly, he apologized as he informed her that there was an administrative error and her room was not quite ready yet. Smiling, she thought it was karma coming around for her getting bumped to the front of the line at the car rental desk. She assured the apologetic clerk that the mix up was not a problem. She had wanted to stretch her legs from the long flight anyway.
After making sure that her bags would be stored and taken up to her room as soon as it was ready, she got some additional tourist information from the clerk and was pointed to a deserted area of the lobby where she could make a few phone calls undisturbed. Pulling out her cell phone, she called the museum first and left a message on Mike’s machine that she had arrived safely and what her room number was in case he needed to get a hold of her.
Checking her watch as she hung up, she noticed it was still lunchtime back in Denver. Now might be a good time to check in with her family. Even at thirty, they still worried about her. They gave her space but she always called to let someone know where she was when she went on a road trip. It was a deal she’d made with her dad after she inadvertently scared her family to death. She’d made a rare unplanned pleasure trip that happened to coincide with the September 11th Tragedy. She was nowhere near the destruction but she was also nowhere near a phone or television to even know it had happened for a few days. Her cell didn’t work well in the back woods where she liked to camp. Needless to say, her parents and four brothers were not amused.
Listening to the phone ring, she smiled as she recognized the voice that answered. “Hearson Enterprises, Executive Suite. How may I help you.”
“Hi Molly. It’s Jen. How are things going there?”
The voice on the end went from professional to
conspiratorial in a flash. “Hey Jenny. It’s crazy as always. Your dad and
Andrew are in meeting with some out of town muckety mucks that think they are
going to pull a fast one us. I’m just waiting for Andrew to start throwing
electronic devices around.”
The young woman couldn’t help laughing at the image of her eldest brother
throwing a PDA at a foreign executive. Though to be fair, it had been when he
first graduated college to start training as Dad’s eventual successor and it
had been a date book rather than a PDA. Still, Jonathan, two years Andy’s
junior who was doing a summer internship at the family firm back then had made
sure it was a tale never forgotten. Jennifer who was just about to enter her
senior year of high school at the time had relished bringing it up every time
Andrew got too bossy. Even her then 14 year old twin brothers, Richard and
Kenneth had made a game of ‘let’s get Andy to throw something’ that summer.
Shaking her head at the memories, she smiled as she told the woman on the line. “That’s okay. I was just calling to let everyone know I arrived safely. If you’ll give them the message when they take a coffee break I’ll let you go.”
“So you finally got to the Big Easy eh? I’m so jealous. Oh that reminds me. Jonathan said if you called, he wanted to talk to you. Looks like his line is free. I’ll patch you through before it gets jammed again.” With that, Molly transferred before she could say she didn’t have time.
Jennifer thought about hanging up and claiming the connection was lost but he would just call back. She adored John but she had a feeling she knew why he wanted to talk to her and she wasn’t going to like it.
His tenor voice rang clear as he greeted her. “Hey Jelly Bean. Was your flight okay? Any trouble with the car rental or the hotel?”
“Hi Johnny. Flight was fine; car is fine. I’m sure the hotel will be fine as soon as my room is ready. In the mean time I was just going to go exploring New Orleans and find a place to eat. I won’t keep you.”
“Ah, I always have time for my favorite little sister.” He
teased.
”I’m your only little sister Jonathan. Why do I feel like a big brother speak
is about to be foisted on me? And why don’t you go pick on the twins for a
while? They’re a good three years LITTLER than me.” The blonde sighed.
“Should I answer the questions in order? One, because you know me so well and two because even combined they can’t match the hornet nests our Jelly Bean is capable of stirring up.” He laughed.
She tried to pull together some anger for the argument to come but she couldn’t manage it. Even knowing he was using her childhood nickname to chip away at her defensives, it still worked. She smiled though he couldn’t see it. “Okay John. I’ll bite what hornet’s nest am I stirring up this time?”
“What are you are doing in New Orleans?” His voice sounded patient but the amusement was gone.
“I work for the museum in case you forgot. There are a few items that are going to be loaned from the museum down here to ours for a while. I came to get them. Any other questions?”
“Yeah, don’t you have couriers to do that sort of thing.”
Damn it. He had a point there. “Well these pieces are extra valuable. Also Mike
wanted them properly inventoried before the loan and a courier couldn’t really
do that.”
“And the fact that you have been harassing me for months to
find out from my contacts what happened to Nick Gautier after his mom’s death
down there has nothing to do with it? Don’t go sticking your nose in where it
doesn’t belong.”
”I never go where I’m not wanted or needed Johnny. You know that. I am here on
business and maybe to meet a few friends.
You know how long I’ve wanted to see New Orleans. No worries.”
“Okay have a safe trip and check in once in a while…” He sighed before giving her once last thought, “ and Jelly Bean, if I find out you’re putting yourself in harm’s way, you’d better be praying that the daimons get to you before I do.”
“I love you too Jonathan.” She hung up the phone before he could say anything else and turned it off. Brothers could be a pain, especially when he was a Blood Rites Squire and thought he knew best.
Checking the street car schedules the clerk had given her, Jenny quickly discovered it would be much easier to hop on the St Charles Line out front rather than driving around a strange town. It would let her see more of the city as well. She headed outside and hopped the next one that came along heading toward downtown. At the end of the line she transferred briefly to the Canal Street line and soon found herself wandering the streets of the French Quarter. She hadn’t thought to grab a jacket from her bags before she left the hotel but it was a warm spring day and there was so much to see.
Jenny found her way to Café Du Monde for beignets and some very strong coffee. Nick was right; they were damned close to perfect. She sat at the café watching other tourists and shoppers go by for a while. Then she scooped up her backpack and continued her wanderings. Nick had mentioned a lot of these places to her in chat but seeing them was so much different. The architecture and historical feel of the place was incredible.
Her heart ached that he wasn’t there to show her the sites himself. It made her more determined than ever to find him, but where the heck was she supposed to start. This was a big area to cover, even if she just limited herself to the French Quarter. What was she supposed to do, go up to every stranger she saw and ask them if they knew Nick or could point her to any local Dark Hunters? That would earn her a visit in a nice padded cell somewhere eventually. She should have spent more time on the squire boards trying to find other area contacts, but after Nick disappeared, she hadn’t felt much like chatting online. It would have been so much easier if Jonathan had given her some contact names for her visit but he was too busy being overprotective as usual.
Well someone had to know something. She would just have to keep on searching until she stumbled upon the right someone to ask. Looking up, she found she had made her way to what the tourist guide said was Jackson Square. She could see a beautiful Cathedral in the distance. It must be a hot tourist spot with how many cameras she could see aimed even from this distance. She avoided it and wandered the edges of the square, window-shopping. She stumbled across what appeared to be a newer shop right on the Square. The handmade sign in the window said “Madame Selene’s Tarot Reading and Mystical Boutique.” It looked like it might be fun. She’d have to check it out on her way back. Jenny didn’t have much in the way of a sixth sense herself but she had seen enough in her travels not to doubt the unseen.
A few hours later she found herself wandering down Ursulines Avenue near dark. She knew she should head back to the hotel but decided to stop somewhere to eat first. Looking up, she realized she was outside what appeared to be a biker bar based on all the Harleys outside. She walked up the impressively ripped bouncer at the door who checked her ID then waved her inside telling her, “Welcome to Sanctuary.”
Okay that definitely rang a bell somewhere. Looking up at the Sanctuary marquee as she headed in, she read the disclaimer, “You Don’t Bite Me and I Won’t Bite You.” Grinning, she remembered where she had heard the name before. This was where Nick’s mom worked. It seemed her perseverance had paid off. If anyone would know what happened to Gautiers,’ surely these people would.
The music was a bit loud but not deafening when she walked in. The jukebox she eyed in the corner was playing Nickelback’s version of “Friday Nite’s Alright.” Walking up to the bar to sit, she noticed a few pairs of eyes watching her. Jenny wasn’t sure if it was her or the tee shirt she was wearing that was attracting more attention, but either way, hopefully it would net her an informant. She smiled at the bartender before ordering a coke as well as a plate of Red Beans and Rice from the kitchen. While she waited for her food, she looked turned in her seat to look around the bar. There was certainly no shortage of attractive males in the place. Nick hadn’t mentioned that fact to her or she might have found a way out of the museum archives to get down here sooner.
Jenny’s gaze caught movement at a table nearby and she turned to watch a young man clearing the plates. A small brown monkey of some kind ran up his arm to perch on his shoulder. The man appeared unperturbed by this behavior. In fact Jenny would have thought he didn’t know the monkey was there if he hadn’t stopped to give the little guy a carrot before continuing his work.
Her attention was drawn back to the jukebox when Nickelback was yanked mid song and Lynryd Skynryd could now be heard booming out of the speakers. Momentarily annoyed that they had skipped over a song she liked, she couldn’t deny that “Sweet Home Alabama” was the one Skynryd song she could never object to hearing. Jenny couldn’t help quietly singing along with the first chorus. She looked around the bar, wondering why the place was clearing out so fast. Were the Harleys out front about to turn into pumpkins or what? New Orleans was certainly turning out to be a strange place.