Bayou Moon - Andrews, Ilona [46]
He headed to a small door. William followed. They went into the back room and Zeke shut the door.
“I expected you yesterday,” he whispered.
“We ran into some sharks,” William said.
Zeke grimaced. “Figured it had to be something like that. That’s Cerise Mar out there. I about broke my head trying to think up a way to get you close to the Mars, and you walk into my store side by side with her like you’re bosom buddies.”
William sat on the edge of a table. “What’s the story with her family?”
“They’re swampers—native Edgers. A big family, very old, land rich, money poor. They’ve got themselves a family house out in the swamp. People call them Rats behind their back, because there’s so damn many of them and they’re poor and mean. The Mars aren’t afraid of blood or lock-up, and they hold a grudge like it was their family treasure.”
Zeke glanced at the main floor through a peephole in the door. “The Mars are feuding with their neighbors, the Sheeriles. The Sheerile family isn’t that big—mother and three sons, but they’ve got money and use a lot of hired muscle. The old woman runs the whole thing, jerks her sons around like puppets on a string. Rumor has it, Gustave Mar and his wife, Gen, disappeared a few days ago and the Sheeriles were involved. That’s a hard trick to pull off. Both the Mars and the Sheeriles are Legion families.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means they have old magic,” Zeke said. “The families take root from the ancient Legion marooned centuries ago in the swamps. The Sheeriles would’ve needed help to take Gustave alive. Lagar Sheerile is very good with his blade, but Gustave is one mean sonovabitch. His daughter is of the same stock—if you get in trouble with her, don’t count on any mercy. A guy on the Sheeriles’ payroll says the Hand was involved in the whole thing.” Zeke frowned. “She’s getting impatient.”
Things were clearer but not by much. “Anything else?”
“That’s all I’ve got. If I need to reach you, where will you be?”
“In her house.”
Zeke’s eyebrows crept up. “You got invited to the Rathole? You must be a miracle worker.”
William hid a smile. Sure, he was.
Zeke pulled the door open. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
“It’s all yours,” William growled.
Cerise looked up from the counter. “Are you done?”
“Yes.” William nodded.
“Zeke, can we use your back door?”
“Sure thing,” Zeke said.
A moment later they were outside, and William inhaled the scents of the swamp town swirling around him.
“Took you for everything you had?” Cerise’s eyes laughed at him.
“I held my own.”
“Sure you did.” The back of the shop faced the Mire, and Cerise headed straight for it. “Our ride is this way.”
“We have a ride?”
“My cousin,” she said. “Come on, Lord Bill. We’ve kept him waiting long enough already.”
“GENEVIEVE . . .”
The soft insistent voice reached through the fog clouding her mind and tugged on her, demanding attention.
“Genevieve ...”
Slowly Gen opened her eyes to the blurry world wrapped in a shroud of light too bright for her dilated pupils. The pain came slowly, from some dark well within her. It built on itself, growing dense and heavy. Hot claws ripped into her insides, and the world reeled and shuddered. A face blocked her view. It seemed ridiculously large, bigger than her, bigger than the room, darker than light.
“Can you hear me, Gen?”
“Yes,” she whispered through the tortured tempo of her breathing. She knew this voice. She knew it very well.
“Your daughter, Cerise, went to the Broken and came back. Why would she do that? Tell me.” A hand stroked her hair, and the voice came again, gentle, friendly, caring. “I know you’re tired. Tell me why Cerise went to the Broken, and I’ll let you rest. Come on, darling.”
Her dry cracked lips moved, shaping the words. “Go to hell, Spider.”
The pain swelled larger and suddenly burst like a fiery explosion. Her ears filled with the ringing of countless bells. The fire slid down into her