The Casquette Girls (48 page)

As far as our dark-natured friends, I know they are still here.

The streets have been paved with new stones, and the buildings are freshly painted, and yet sometimes when I am out walking, I can sense things far older hiding in the shadows. I pray that their plan is to move on to some land far away from this one. Although… I confess that sometimes when I am alone, late at night, I can’t help but wonder about Gabriel Medici, and why he was aboard that ship, and how he knew my name. On two separate occasions I have even risen in the middle of the night and hurriedly dressed with the intention of seeking him out. But do not be alarmed; both times I came to my senses before I opened the front door. My intuition always wins out over the often overwhelming curiosity I feel towards this man.

22
nd
June 1728

I thought our secret circle was complete when we discovered Marassa’s talents onboard the ship, but that all changed when I encountered Susannah Bowen at the convent. She was the maid who served tea while I was trying to persuade the Mother Superior to host a ball so that the orphans might have the chance to mingle with the town’s bachelors. I am desperate for the girls to be married off rather than be left cooped up together, unprotected, like animals waiting in the slaughterhouse. I have no idea how to rid the town of the monsters, but I’ve been doing everything in my power to try to protect the girls who had survived that journey from Paris. It has become my obsession.

Susannah’s bonnet was no match for her fiery red curls, which spilled out and hid her face, but even underneath her locks I could see those icy blue eyes noting my every move. I returned her gaze with equal suspicion as she poured my tea. I was surprised, however, when a jolt of energy swept through me so quickly that I couldn’t keep the silver spoon from stirring itself in the bergamot-flavored tea. I quickly placed my fingers on the utensil and finished mixing in the crème, while stifling my smile.

I tried my best to remain calm, but I became overwhelmed by the sudden surge of possibilities a sixth member would bring to our circle. When, during our talk, the Mother Superior paused at the window to contemplate my suggestion, I glanced at the wall sconce above the servant girl’s head, spun it out of the wall, and let it drop. In retrospect, my behavior was brash and risky, but, as I suspected, her natural reflex wasn’t to move out of the way as the sconce fell. Instead, she sent a burst of wind upwards, and the iron fixture bobbled in the air like a marionette. Her eyes darted to me, and a taut smile spread across her face as the sconce gently floated into her freckle-dusted hands. She quickly hid the piece of iron behind her back just as the Mother Superior turned to face us.

Mark my words – it will only be a matter of time before Susannah is folded into our group.

26
th
June 1728

On the last two Sundays after the Catholic service in the chapel, I have invited the girls back to the DuFrense home, where we sing around the piano, paint, or share French lessons with Marassa and the new girl, Susannah. I’ve yet to extract her entire story because her French is poor, as is my English, but I have gathered she is of English descent by way of the isle of Bermuda. Speaking a common language would make it so much easier to communicate, but I believe this barrier has brought us together in a strange, intimate way. In lieu of mindless gossip, we share our secrets by teaching each other things passed down by those before us: Susannah and Marassa spend hours exchanging notes and diagrams on the healing properties of herbs and flowers; Cosette teaches Lisette the ways to a person’s heart by showing her first how to speak to animals; and I have found an unsuspecting partner in Minette, who has quite an aptitude for the sciences. Her curiosity about the origins of material sometimes reminds me of you, Father.

It’s such a strange relationship, Papa, having grown up without siblings and with no close friends among France’s
crème de la crème
. I never learned to trust anyone until now. Other than you, I’d never met anyone like myself. You’ve always told me that people are brought together for a reason, and I keep that wisdom close to my heart.

4
th
July 1728

I worry more about Martine every day. At night, she can sleep only if Cosette slips an herb solution into her brandy, which she consumes as if she is looking for death, and death, I’m afraid, is far too easy to come across in this town. Conditions are poor for most people – the streets are filthy, and disease runs rampant. What people do not know of is the real epidemic that was unleashed when our ship docked in the
port de La Nouvelle-Orléans
– the true reason bodies are scattering across the city.

Each night more of the population disappears, but no alarm bells are rung when they go missing: a faceless prostitute, a nameless pirate deckhand, an orphan girl sent by the King.

But I notice, Papa. And I am overridden with guilt.

After so many months coexisting with these predators, developing this strange bond through the shadows, I have become complacent. I constantly have to remind myself that the relationship could turn lethal
if there is any disruption to the current arrangement – such as my exposing their bloody secrets.

5
th
July 1728

I am beginning to suspect that they want more from me than just silence, and yet my intuition tells me it’s not my blood they are after. At night, I can feel them following me. Watching, waiting for me to waver. What they expect from me I have no idea, but the simple fact that they have never tried to harm me leads me to believe that whatever they want is
very
important to them. There is something about the way they said my name—Jean-Antoine, just before his carriage took off, and Gabriel that night in the fields—that makes me wonder if it has something to do with you, Father. I lie in bed at night wondering what they are after. Unless it is simply you they want?

19
th
July 1728

I feel like I am going mad, Papa. Marassa made me a necklace she calls a
gris-gri
s
.
She fears I need protection, and says that this little satchel strung on a ribbon will help repel evil. The girls are all beginning to suspect that I need protection. I don’t know how to explain it, but I have this looming feeling that darker days are coming. Perhaps this is because Louis, the dog, has gone missing. I haven’t seen my furry companion in days, which saddens me. I always felt safer with him near – he seemed to have a sixth sense for knowing when danger was lurking.

In more disturbing news, a boy from one of the local tribes – the only son of the chief – has gone missing. His family suspects foul play, and they are causing quite a stir here in town, trying to find the culprit. His sister, a stunning girl named Morning Star who attends the religious class on Sundays, has taken to questioning me on the street. I don’t know why she thinks I know something about her brother’s disappearance, but her interrogations bring me to tears. I can
only guess what, or rather who, has caused her brother’s sudden disappearance, and I can’t help but feel responsible. If it wasn’t for me, the monsters would be at the bottom of the ocean instead of terrorizing the population of
La Nouvelle-Orléan
s
.

I know something needs to be done, but I am not strong enough on my own, and I don’t know if I can jeopardize the lives of the five girls I hold so dear. I don’t know what to do, Papa.

Your silence is making me fear the worst. You should have arrived by now. I tell myself I should be used to your unpredictability… I never gave a second thought to your erratic behavior in Paris, but here, where everything is unknown to me, it’s unsettling.

I pray you are well. You always are.

1
st
August 1728

The day I feared would come has finally arrived. Lisette received a marriage proposal from one of the local townsmen. I wanted so much to share in her joy, but my heart ached, knowing the sparkle in her eyes would fade when she realized her dowry was missing.

Fearing for their lives, I followed the nuns to the attic to retrieve her
cassette
. With each step, I couldn’t help but remember walking up the stairs to the deck of the S.S
.
Girond
e
,
the first witness to the pirate massacre. My heart pounded like death knocking, and the temperature rose so high that by the time we got to the last room of the attic, I swear we had left the Earth and entered Hell. The Mother Superior opened Lisette’s chest from the King.

At once, all of the holy sisters gasped.

But nothing happened.

Nothing was awoken.

Nothing sprang forth.

They must have been out feeding. I breathed a sigh of relief. How horrible is that, Father? I was thankful they were out feeding on other humans! What kind of monster have I become?

The sisters scattered like a flock of geese, pecking at each box to examine the contents. “We’ve been robbed,” said one of the novices when all of the boxes produced only air.

The local nuns panicked, but the postulants who had traveled on the S.S
.
Gironde
did not. I watched misplaced guilt flush each of their cheeks. Though none of them dared say the words aloud, I could see suspicions in their eyes about why the boxes might be empty. No matter how strong their faith, they could not deny the supernatural events that had occurred on our voyage from Paris. Mother Superior said something in Latin and fell to her knees, with her hands clenched together, and the others quickly followed suit.

I fled to find Lisette.

7
th
August 1728

Today has been one of melancholy, Papa. I so wish you were here. When I got home tonight, I found the front door ajar and, while nothing inside seemed to be awry, there was a disturbance in the air. I wanted to yell for Martine, but the surge of energy tearing through my body and threatening to bolt from my fingers kept me silent. I dropped my bundle of flowers and ran through the silent house.

A strange sense of déjà vu dizzied me as I entered the parlor and found her. And
hi
m
.

The vampire Gabriel.

He was bent over Martine, who was splayed on the floor. Even my presence in the room did not distract him from his meal. I yelled repeatedly for him to stop, but he barely moved—his eyes shifted to look up at me, but his lips remained locked on her neck.

“Remove yourself!” I screamed, running to them. I grabbed his shoulder and attempted to pull him off, but my touch only scorched his clothing before his shove sent me sliding across the slick wooden floor. Keeping the flames from rising from my hands caused me great pain, but I couldn’t risk it. He was too close to her. Not to mention the possibility of setting fire to the entire town. For a moment, I just stood, terrified at the perverse sight.

He finally unlatched his teeth from her throat and then staggered as he tried to stand, nearly falling backwards. “
Madonna mi
a
,
how much does this woman drink?” he slurred. “Opium too. There are more toxins in her blood than in a Parisian sewer.”

“You monster!” I screamed, which didn’t seem to faze him in the slightest. My eyes welled as guilt clutched my throat – it was obvious that she was dead.

“Oh, my sweet, don’t be angry with me,” he said as if the offense he had committed had been eating the las
t
macaro
n
. “She begged me for it. You should thank me for putting her out of her misery.”

“You are the reason for her misery! You killed her husband!” I reminded him with fury.

“Well, that was actually my cousin Renzo, but I see your point.” He stumbled back to her body and bit his own wrist, just as he had with the island boy, and then he looked back to me and said in a very serious tone, “Adeline, you should leave now.”

I refused, telling him that I was a guest of this house and it was he who should leave. He paid no attention but simply focused ceremoniously on his task. Instead of allowing only a few drops to drip into her mouth, like he had for Makandal, he drizzled the blood until her tongue moved, lapping up the sticky red liquid.

“What are you doing?” I stuttered in disbelief.

Before he could reply, she screamed as if in great pain. Her torso thrust upward, and with an indescribable desperation, her jaw clamped around Gabriel’s wrist. Dumbfounded, I screamed her name, unable to turn away from the vulgar act. She sucked on his wrist faster, harder, with the glee of an infant attached to its mother’s teat. And then her eyes rolled back in her head, as if she were possessed.