Teacher was happy. Novice could tell by the laughter he heard in his head every time he thought about the sacrifice behind him. He’d been anxious to hunt again after the park, but Teacher had talked him through what needed to be done to get ready.

  The red candle he’d brought had nothing to do with lighting, and as he struck the match, the smell of sulfur heightened his senses so much the voice warned him to calm down. This wasn’t the time to lose it after all he’d learned and planned in the time he’d taken between killings.

  He placed the candle right above the woman’s head, and the muscles in her neck stretched as she followed his movements with her eyes. Even in the low lighting he could see her pulse beating rapidly.

  “You don’t need to do this,” she said.

  He ignored her as he prepared the ritual he’d have to perform as many times as he was commanded until he was no longer the novice but the master. Once that happened, he’d regain the control he’d lost or, more accurately, the control that had been stolen from him.

  With the candle in place he took his knife from the bag that held his supplies, and that was when the woman started screaming.

  “You should feel blessed that you were chosen,” Novice said, his voice raspy from lack of use.

  “You aren’t going to get away with this,” she said. When Novice cut her left wrist, “Help” roared from her lips, but he tuned her out.

  To Novice it wasn’t blood spilling to the floor but the paint he needed to fill the empty canvas in the house he’d picked for his first offering to the gods. He put on the surgical gloves he’d purchased and dipped his fingers in the growing pool. On her forehead he drew the number three, and on the tops of her feet he painted a two and a one.

  None of the books he’d read told him the sequence of the rituals, but he had Teacher for that, and this was the way to open the path. As the woman cried, he went back to the bag again and took out the potato-sized rock he’d found by the railroad yard. One half was painted black and the other red, and he placed it between her legs.

  “Please, if you want you can touch me. Just don’t hurt me anymore,” she said. Her tears ran from her eyes into her hairline, and the steady stream smeared her makeup. “I can show you a good time.”

  “What you’ll show me is the way,” Novice said as he took up his knife. He cleared his mind of her cries for help and concentrated on what he wanted. The book he’d read was adamant about being specific. He moved his lips as he asked, but he kept the wish in his head, not wanting to share it with his sacrifice.

  When he was certain that he couldn’t be misunderstood, he stabbed her in the abdomen close to her left side. She screamed as her hands and feet rose as high as the bindings would allow, and her head shook as if trying to block out the pain.

  “God…please” were her last words as Novice moved the knife toward the right, effectively gutting her. He then cut from her neck to her groin so he could move the skin aside to reach his goal. Her body was still spasming as he reached into her chest and ripped out her heart.

  It was warm in his hand, and he closed his eyes from the horror of what he’d done. He opened his fingers to let it go and get away before he threw up, but when Teacher spoke soothingly to him, he squeezed the heart instead and felt the blood trickle down his arm.

  “If there was another way I’d tell you, but this is the only thing that will open the door. So take a deep breath and finish. It’s your job. If I could I’d do it for you, but it’s you who has to prove himself.”

  Novice did as commanded, but the deep breath filled his nose with the scent of blood, which made him more nauseous. He placed the heart by the burning candle so he could pour the small bottles of cheap rum and water he’d brought with him.

  That completed the ritual, and now he felt hopeful for what would come of it. He whistled as he cut the woman free and knocked out the nails he’d driven to tie the ropes to. He would have to make more sacrifices, and he’d need the supplies. But more importantly, he wanted to keep his freedom to finish his work. Teacher had said over and over not to leave anything behind.

  “You’ve earned your rest, Novice,” Teacher said.

  He was tired, but he was careful on the way home. A traffic stop now would require an explanation for all of the blood on his clothing. “Thank you,” he whispered in the car before he started the engine. “When do we make the next step?”

  “You have another week to prepare. Then we’ll call to the one who understands misery and suffering like no other. You have until Sunday a week from now to build another altar and find the next sacrifice.”

  Novice rubbed his thumb and index finger together and worked the now-sticky blood like a talisman. He’d sleep because Teacher wanted him to, but knowing when he’d be called on again filled him with the kind of energy that rivaled the anticipation of being with a lover. And that was exactly his goal.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “The units you sent out in Robin Burns’s neighborhood came back with nothing,” Royce said to Sept and Nathan. The station house was full of officers displaced by the storm, but Royce had given them one of the interrogation rooms to lay out what little information they had.

  Sept and Nathan had tacked up pictures from both the crime scenes on the walls, and every morning Sept would drink her coffee as she moved from one picture to the next. So far, she had more questions than the photos held answers.

  “Not one person who was home saw anything,” Royce went on. “What do you have planned next?” he asked Sept.

  “I’m considering school crossing guard,” Sept said, and winked at Nathan when Royce raised his middle finger in her direction. “What, you don’t think I’ll look good in the uniform?”

  “Stop fucking around and remember to stay away from the press.”

  “What are we going to do next?” Nathan asked when Royce left the room.

  “Since no one is coming forward, it’s time to ask these two some questions.” She tapped Robin’s and Donovan’s pictures. “We’ve got a second victim, and this is what makes it different.” She moved her finger to the lines drawn on Robin’s chest. “What are you trying to say?” she asked, more to herself. “Find a blowup of just this.”

  Nathan flipped through the file and handed her what she wanted. “You figured it out?”

  “Not yet, but like I keep telling you, I’m an eternal optimist.”

  “That doesn’t jump out about you,” Nathan said, then ducked.

  “When you start acting like a sarcastic asshole, you show potential, so come on, Wonder Boy. Let’s go find some answers.”

  The weather had warmed enough that two weeks before Christmas they saw people in the Quarter in shorts. When Mother Nature was this schizophrenic, the natives got restless—like when the moon was full—and the police had to deal with more problems, but that was part of New Orleans’s uniqueness.

  Sept headed back uptown, and as she turned onto St. Charles Avenue, Keegan hijacked her thoughts. She missed her. Their Sunday together had been the best time Sept had spent in forever, and on the way home she had realized that she hadn’t mourned Noel and Sophie all day. That alone made her sorry that she hadn’t called Keegan yesterday, but trying to find something to move them ahead on this case was taking all her time.

  As Sept headed toward the river, joggers crowded the grassy center of the avenue. During the storm, falling tree limbs had shredded the wiring that powered the city’s famous streetcars, so runners had a clear path. The oaks that had shaded this street for over a hundred and fifty years hadn’t fared well in the hurricane-force winds. Residents also had to wait for the streetcars to be rebuilt.

  In the uptown section, Tulane and Loyola University’s fall semesters had been interrupted. Most of the schools in the city were damaged and flooded, and the students were in limbo in whatever makeshift classrooms educators could put together. Tulane had been hard at work from the day after the storm, so the repairs would be complete when they reopened in January.

  Sept had called before they left the precinct and found the professor she needed to talk to in his office. The lines the killer had drawn had to mean something—or at least she hoped so, because they might open a new area to investigate. The fact that the perp had taken the chance to make them in such an open area made Sept think they held some significance.

  “What’s this guy do again?” Nathan asked.

  “Dr. Munez teaches a sociology class that centers around religious studies.”

  The horseshoe-shaped parking lot in front of the main building was partially blocked off as a yard crew cut dead branches from the oaks that lined the front of the school. Sept entered from the other side and showed her badge to the overzealous security guard who ran over.

  “You want to pray with him or something?” Nathan asked.

  “One more question like that and I’ll take back my ‘potential’ comment.”

  The old stone building had an unused, musty smell as they climbed the stairs to the second floor, but Sept knew it had to do with age instead of Katrina this time. Her full scholarship here had helped her learn as much about the campus as it had the criminal-justice system.

  “Detective Savoie?” Dr. Julio Munez waited near the door wearing jeans and a T-shirt showing the school’s mascot. The green wave with a snarly face was carrying a football. As a student Sept had never understood how anyone could fear a wave, but August’s storm surge had changed her mind.

  “Dr. Munez, thanks for seeing us so quickly.”

  “I have more than enough time on my hands lately, so no need to thank me.” He led them to his office a few doors down and cleared another chair for Nathan. “What can I do for you?”

  The space was large, since Munez had lucked out and scored an office in one of the oldest buildings on campus, but it appeared cramped because of the numerous idols and other religious artifacts on the walls. Sept recognized some, but others looked more like they belonged in a sex shop than alongside the crucifixes and stars of David.

  “Does this mean anything to you?” She handed Munez the photo and started studying the decorations again.

  Like Sept had done countless times, Munez studied the photo from every angle. “Is this someone’s chest?” he finally asked.

  “The designs were found on a murder victim’s chest, yes.”

  “They were drawn in her blood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Munez handed the picture back and tilted back in his chair. “Right off, nothing comes to mind. But if you want, I could copy it and research it for you.”

  “You can’t think of anything?” Sept asked.

  “Over the centuries, different tribes have used body paint for a multitude of reasons, but that will take time to decipher. Whoever did this might’ve seen it in a National Geographic magazine, or could’ve simply wanted to see how the blood looked on skin.” He shrugged, and his chair creaked. “The lines are so simplistic it could be nothing or part of a ritual I’m not familiar with. I really want to help but I don’t know.”

  Sept gave him the picture again and nodded. “Keep this one, but please don’t share it with anyone. If you find anything give me a call.” She handed him her card as well.

  Once they were outside again, Nathan asked, “Did you see the size of that statue’s penis?”

  “I think it’s the Inca god of fertility, or a little guy with an overinflated opinion of himself. You weren’t envious, were you?”

  “Yeah, right.”

  Sept laughed at his blush. “I’m fairly sure knocking a fertility god brings about instant impotence, so tread lightly.”

  “You’re full of shit.”

  Sept laughed harder at the insult as her phone started to ring. “Savoie,” she answered.

  “Are you playing hard to get, or are you a jerk?”

  “I thought I should wait the requisite two days that it takes to make me not appear to be desperate or a stalker of any kind,” Sept said to Keegan.

  “You don’t strike me as someone who’s conventional any time.”

  “I thought you got to talk to my mother this weekend?” Sept drove back to the precinct in record time. “Hold on,” she told Keegan. “Why don’t you grab lunch, Nathan, and we’ll get back to it this afternoon?”

  “Hot date you need to run off to?” he asked.

  “You’re supposedly a detective, figure it out.” Sept pulled away before Nathan closed the door. “Where are you?” she asked Keegan.

  “What, now you’re in a rush to see me? Is your life usually that blessed?”

  “Not always, but I can hope, can’t I?” Sept headed back uptown at a slower pace. “How would you like to have lunch with me?”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Explain that question about talking to your mother, and I might tell you where I am.”

  “You mentioned that I’m unconventional, but after you met my mother you should realize she encouraged that in us, so I hope it isn’t a problem.”

  “You ate with my family and you’re asking me that?”

  “I have to admit that your family probably rates higher than mine on the unconventional scale. So how about lunch?”

  Keegan laughed. “You do realize I cook for a living?”

  “I’m offering you a rest.” Sept parked in front of Keegan’s house. “Or do you break out in hives if the food isn’t prepared in a Blanchard kitchen?”

  “Funny, Detective…it’s your turn to hold on. Someone’s at the door.”

  “Take your time.” As Sept waited for Keegan to reach the front of the house, she rested her phone against her chin and regretted not calling sooner.

  “You guessed right,” Keegan said.

  “I’m a trained detective, guessing had nothing to do with it,” Sept shot back. Keegan was in her black-and-white checkered pants, but they were topped with a white T-shirt instead of the thick linen shirt she’d seen her in. “Though I thought you’d be whipping up soufflés by now.” Sept tapped the glass of her watch.

  “I’ve got a rare morning off since I trust the staff to get things started. All that free time made me realize I hadn’t heard from you.” Keegan rested her head on the side of the door and tried to sound annoyed. “Is this something I should expect from you?”

  “That depends.”

  “On how much I bitch? Is that the answer you’re looking for?” Keegan laughed and stepped back to let Sept in, then started walking.

  “More like what job I’m applying for here,” Sept said seriously.

  Keegan was leading her to the kitchen at the back of the house and stopped so abruptly at Sept’s answer that Sept slammed into her back. Sept’s hands around her hips kept her from losing her balance and falling. She turned slowly so Sept would hopefully keep her hands where they were.

  “Aren’t you a little old to play coy? If you’re just clueless, let me explain. A girl doesn’t introduce you to her family if she’s not interested.”

  “If that was our first date, I’ve never experienced anything like it.” Sept didn’t move, seemingly content to have Keegan pressed against her. “Is that your idea of a vetting system?”

  “I’ve tried the usual dating game, with mixed results, so I thought I’d make radical changes this time around.”

  “What changes are you looking to make?”

  “Come with me.” Keegan moved to Sept’s side and put her arm around her waist and kept it there until they were in the kitchen. Then she put Sept on one of the stools that surrounded the cooking area. Off her feet they were closer to the same height. “I’ve decided not to take any more shit, which means if you’re planning to blow me off at every opportunity for something you think is more important,” Keegan made air quotes on that comment, “hit on my sister, or cheat on me—you’re free to leave.”

  “You put up with all that stuff before?” Sept asked in a way that sounded like she didn’t believe it.

  “Not all at the same time. I’m not a complete moron.”

  Sept brought Keegan’s ponytail forward and pulled on it gently. “Anything else?”

  “I’ll let you know as we go on, but right now I want to take you up on your lunch offer.”

  “Where do you want to go?”

  When Sept moved to stand up, Keegan held her in place. “We’re here, and it’s not because I’ll break out in a rash if we go somewhere without a relative in the kitchen. I took the morning off so I could make you lunch. Aren’t you glad you didn’t blow me off and break the rules right away?”

  “Are you interested in what I might want?” Sept asked.

  “I’m sorry. My little tirade did come off as bossy.”

  “I knew that about you from the day we met, but I won’t hold it against you.” Sept laughed when Keegan narrowed her eyes. “I want one thing, and it’s been on my mind since Sunday.”

  Keegan opened her mouth to ask what, but turned all her attention to Sept’s lips when they covered hers. Their first brief kiss at the back door had left her wanting more, and now she knew she’d been right about what Sept could wake in her. Sept was vastly different than what she was used to, but in a way they came from the same foundation. Their families were important, and perhaps Sept had been searching, like she had, for the kind of relationship they had grown up witnessing.

  “I’m good to go,” Sept said when she ended the kiss. “If you’ve got any other rules, make sure you deliver on one of those before you tell me.”

  When Keegan heard Sept’s voice, she opened her eyes and didn’t remember closing them or putting her fingers in Sept’s hair. “You’ve been thinking about kissing me?”

  “I’d tell you everything else you made me think about, but you haven’t started lunch yet. Since I’m hungry, I don’t want to chance that you’ll toss me out for, as my mother says, being fresh.”

  Keegan gave her a brief kiss and pulled her hair just hard enough to get Sept’s attention. “I might not be ready for you,” she said, teasing before she started lunch.

  They talked as Keegan took out the ingredients for a veggie pizza. Unexpectedly, she didn’t experience the usual awkward first moves of getting to know someone. Sept sat and joked with her and asked the kinds of questions that put her at ease.