Rusted Veins: A Sabina Kane Novella Read Online Free PDF

Brooks. He wants us to come meet him at Zen’s shop. He says he’s got something to show us.”
    I sighed. The last thing I wanted was to wade into the sea of humanity clogging Bourbon Street to get to Zen’s shop. With the Halloween crowds already taking over the city, the place was going to be a madhouse. “Can’t he just tell us what it is over the computer?”
    Giguhl shook his head. “Nope. The roommate found Candy’s diary. He thought it might help.”
    Before I could respond, Adam hung up the phone. “That was Rhea,” he said. “She’s been in touch with Cadence’s family, but none of them have heard from her since she left New York.” His shoulders dropped. Seeing the defeat in his expression made me feel like an ass. Here I was feeling selfish when he was the one grappling with guilt over leaving the girl. “Rhea did say the last time they knew of Cadence’s whereabouts she was in Los Angeles, so chances are good Brooks’s waitress really is her.”
    I went to him and put my arms around him and squeezed. “It’s not your fault.”
    He shrugged. “Yeah, it kind of is. We had problems long before I met you, but I could have broken it off better.”
    I sighed. “Well, you can apologize to her once we find her.”
    Both males paused. “Does that mean you’re in?” Giguhl asked.
    “I’m not totally heartless,” I said, filling my tone with plenty of martyrdom. “I’m capable of putting my personal discomfort aside to help Adam’s old…friend.”
    Adam shot me a smile that made me feel like I’d gotten a gold star at life. “Let’s head out, then.”
    *  *  *
    Madame Zenobia’s Voodoo Apothecary was housed in a two-story building in the middle of Bourbon Street. While many of the shops in that area were tourist holes, Zen’s place was an actual working voodoo emporium run by a bona fide voodoo priestess. Sure, the store got its share of foot traffic from the curious looking to buy a voodoo doll to take home as a souvenir, but the store was the real deal.
    Since Halloween was just a couple of nights away, the population of the French Quarter was higher than usual. Instead of flashing to the store and risk being seen materializing out of thin air, we drove. We had to park several blocks away and then walk through the Quarter, weaving our way through the sea of inebriated humanity. When I’d first come to New Orleans, this overwhelmingly vulnerable mass of humans was both a temptation and an annoyance. But now, being in the middle of all that energy put a little extra spring in my step. For a city so focused on the past and so intimate with death, New Orleans was very much alive.
    Giguhl, on the other hand, wasn’t so enchanted. “This sucks balls,” he groused from my arms.
    “Ixnay on the talking in publicay,” Adam said.
    The demon cat hissed in response. You’d figure he’d eventually get used to the fact that he simply couldn’t be seen in public in his seven-foot-tall, green-scaled demon form. “Just think of it this way,” I said, keeping my eyes forward, “if you couldn’t change into the cat body, you’d never be able to leave the house.”
    “Humph.” The pissy feline flexed his claws against the sensitive skin of my inner arm.
    “Ass cat.”
    “Trampire.”
    “All right, you two,” Adam sighed.
    I pressed my lips together and sidestepped a drunk coed puking in the gutter outside of Larry Flynt’s Hustler Club. I soldiered ahead, determined not to let the demon’s bad mood or the specks of puke on my boots ruin my mood. I’d been traveling so much on council business that having a few days to hang out with the old gang in my new hometown felt a little bit like a vacation. Maybe it’s twisted and selfish to look at hunting down a drug-addicted mage who may or may not be in major trouble as a lark, but whatever. I never promised to be selfless. I’d only promised to help.
    A few moments later, we arrived at Zen’s shop. The double doors out front were