All Acts Of Pleasure: A Rowan Gant Investigation (43 page)

He adopted a snide tone. “I dunno, are
you sure
you
wanna
know?”

“Hey, you called me.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“So?”

“So I got a piece’a news for ya’. Are ya’
sittin’ down?”

“Actually, yes.”

“Good, ‘cause guess what? We found your
goddamned sister-in…half sister-in…aww, hell,
whatever-the-fuck-she-is-in-law.”

I instantly sat up straighter in the chair.
“You found her? Where?”

“Well, not ‘zactly found. But, we know who
she is.”

“Who?”

“Her name’s Annalise Devereaux,” he replied.
“I’m lookin’ at ‘er driver’s license photo right this minute. And,
Row, you ain’t gonna believe this. She’s the fuckin’ spittin’ image
of Firehair.”

“Where is she, Ben?” I pressed.

“Right now, we don’t know, ‘cause of
Katrina.”

“What do you mean?”

“The address on ‘er license is in a section
of New Orleans that got totally flooded out, so there’s no way to
know where she is at the moment. But, obviously we know she
survived.”

I sat there staring into space for a moment,
feeling my headache creep up another notch.

“Row…” Ben’s voice flooded into my ear. “Hey,
Row, you still there?”

“Yeah,” I finally said. “So, Ben, you wanted
to know where I’m going?”

“Yeah, I do, but I seem ta’ recall you
decided ta’ be an asshole about tellin’ me when I asked.”

“Well, it’s my turn to tell you
something
you
won’t believe.
I’ll give you three guesses where I’m going, and the first two
don’t count.”

Friday, December 2

3:11 P.M.

St. Louis Cemetery #1

New Orleans, Louisiana

“Do you have any change with you?” the woman
asked.

The man dug in his pocket and extracted a
handful of coins, spread them out with his index finger, then
displayed his palm to her. “This enough?”

“It’s really not as much about the amount as
the effort and respect,” she replied, nodding toward the assortment
in his hand and then showing him the few she held in her own. “Just
let them know you have a gift for them and ask permission to
enter.”

The pair was standing on the sidewalk in
front of the cemetery gate. The walls surrounding the plots showed
their advanced age but were obviously maintained as best they could
be. The iron gates were propped open in an eerily inviting
manner.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever done this
before,” he replied.

“Have you gone into cemeteries before?” she
asked.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Then I suspect you’ve offended a few
ancestors.”

“Great.”

“Don’t worry about that now. You’ll all get
over it,” she told him with a quick shake of her head. “Just do it
right this time.”

“Anything special I’m supposed to say?”

“No, just speak from the heart. Tell them
you’re bringing a gift and ask permission. It’s not hard. It’s like
showing up at a dinner party with a bottle of wine and knocking on
the door.”

“And then I just walk in?”

“You’ll know what to do,” she said with a
slight smile. “Believe me, if they don’t want you to come in,
you’ll know it.”

“Okay,” he replied, an underscore of
apprehension in his voice.

He stood at the gates and gathered his
thoughts for a moment, then looking in through the opening at the
closely arranged rows of tombs, he began to speak.

“Greetings…” he started hesitantly.

He glanced over at the woman for reassurance
but saw that she had her eyes closed, and her lips were moving as
she silently greeted the spirits herself.

“Greetings,” he began again. He continued
speaking aloud though he wasn’t quite sure why. “My name is Rowan,
and I’ve come to visit you…for…well, for some very important
reasons. I’ve brought you this token…”

Not quite sure how to proceed, he held his
hand out, displaying the coins to the unseen spirits.

The day was pleasant with the temperature
resting in the upper fifties. The sun was shining, and there’d been
no reason for anything more than a light jacket. Even so, a slight
chill ran up his spine causing him to shiver. It lasted only a
moment then was immediately followed by soothing warmth that
enveloped his entire body. His earlier anxiety was instantly
replaced by comfort.

Just as Velvet had told him he would, he knew
he was welcome.

“Put the coins over here,” she said, placing
her own in a receptacle just past the gates.

He followed suit, mimicking her overt motion
that made them clatter noisily. He looked to her with a raised
eyebrow, and she easily read the unspoken question in his face.

“You want them to hear it,” she explained.
“They need to know you are actually leaving the gift you
promised.”

He nodded but remained silent.

“Rowan,” she said with a slight smile. “You
can talk here. It’s okay. Just keep your voice low.”

“Okay,” he replied. “I just wasn’t sure.”

“Well, you can. Oh, and in case I forget,
don’t just walk out the gates. When we leave, we’ll say goodbye,
thank them, and then back out.”

“Back out? Like walk backwards?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. You’re the expert.”

The woman looked up and to the right,
pointing as she mumbled something to herself. A second later she
took his arm and pulled gently.

“The tomb should be this way, near the
back.”

They had only been walking for a minute or
two, carefully making their way along the narrow paths, when the
pain started to intensify. The man stumbled and caught himself as
the hard stab drove deep into the base of his skull.

“Are you all right?” the woman asked.

“Something’s wrong,” he replied, reaching up
to rub the back of his throbbing head.

“We’re almost there,” she told him. “Are you
going to be able to handle this?”

He gave her a slight nod. “I have to.”

They started forward again, rounding the
corner of a large, family tomb, the woman in the lead.

“Someone’s here,” she whispered.

The man looked up and saw a petite woman with
fiery red hair cascading down to the middle of her back. She was
standing with her forehead pressed against the stone of a tomb some
thirty-odd yards away.

They stopped dead in their tracks and simply
stared.

As if she could sense that she was being
watched, the red haired woman pushed back from the tomb and slowly
turned to face them.

There was the distance to consider.

And, there were even the oblique shadows from
the closely spaced stone mausoleums.

But still, the resemblance was beyond
uncanny.

At that moment, if Rowan Gant didn’t know for
a fact that his wife was almost seven hundred miles away in Saint
Louis, he would have sworn she was standing there, staring directly
at him, with a look of abject fear distorting her face.

A legacy of darkened desires and
well-intentioned magick gone awry…

If Felicity is to heal, a forgotten spell
must first be broken.

Only then will she be able to meet the
darkness on her own terms…

Whether Rowan wants her to or not.

The Miranda Trilogy Continues

THE END OF DESIRE

A Rowan Gant Investigation

Novel number eight

In the best selling

RGI Series

An active member of the HWA (Horror Writers
Association), M. R. Sellars is a relatively unassuming homebody who
considers himself just a “guy with a lot of nightmares and a word
processing program.” His first full-length novel, Harm None, hit
bookstore shelves in 2000 and he hasn’t stopped writing since. He
says that the biggest adjustment he has had to make with his
writing career is coping with the time spent away from his family
while traveling on promotional tours. Still, he approaches it with
the same humorously deadpan and occasionally acerbic wit that he
applies to life in general.

All of the current novels in Sellars’
continuing Rowan Gant Investigations saga have spent several
consecutive weeks on numerous bookstore bestseller lists as well as
a consistent showing on the Amazon.com Horror/Occult top 100.

Sellars currently resides in the Midwest with
his wife, daughter, and a host of what he describes as “rescued,
geriatric, special-needs felines.” At home, when not writing or
taking care of the household, he indulges his passions for cooking
and hanging out with friends.

M. R. Sellars can be found on the web at:

www.mrsellars.com

Brainpan Leakage the M. R. Sellars Satire Blog

www.brainpanleakage.com

OTHER BOOKS BY M. R. SELLARS

The Rowan Gant Investigations

HARM NONE

NEVER BURN A WITCH

PERFECT TRUST

THE LAW OF THREE

CRONE’S MOON

LOVE IS THE BOND

ALL ACTS OF PLEASURE

THE END OF DESIRE

BLOOD MOON

MIRANDA

(Available in both print and e-book editions)

Other

YOU’RE GONNA THINK I’M NUTS…

(Novelette included in Courting Morpheus Horror
Anthology)

MERRIE AXEMAS: A KILLER HOLIDAY TALE

(Novella)