Read Online Destined for an Early Grave by Jeaniene Frost - Free Book Online Page A

those who could see them. The age-old prejudice between the undead and the spectral dead was working to our advantage, however. Bones wasn’t allowed to accompany me all the way to my appointment, but Fabian wasn’t bound by any such agreement. Liza had been stunned when we brought him home with us. It hadn’t occurred to her to befriend a ghost either.
    We stopped at the gates of Saint Louis Cemetery Number One. Bones let go of my hand. I gave a look inside the locked burial grounds, and my brow went up.
    “Here?”
    “It’s the entranceway to Marie’s chamber,” Bones replied, as if we were waiting at the front door of a house. “This is where I leave you, Kitten.”
    Great. At a graveyard. How reassuring. “So I’m meeting her inside the cemetery?”
    “Not exactly.” Bones had a tone that was both ironic and sympathetic. “Underneath it.”
    Jacques twisted a key in the gates’ lock and gestured at me. “This way, Reaper.”
    If Marie Laveau wanted to disquiet someone with her version of home-court advantage, stepping inside the cemetery led by a creepy ghoul while the gates locked behind me was definitely the way to do it.
    “Alrighty then. After you, Jacques.”
     
    Marie Laveau’s crypt was one of the larger ones in the cemetery. It was tall, probably six feet, wider at the base and narrower toward the top. There was voodoo graffiti written on the side of it in the form of black x’s. Dried and fresh flowers were laid at the front of the crypt, where a chipped inscription indicated the name of the legendary voodoo queen. All of these things I had a few seconds to notice before Jacques pointed to the dirt in front of the headstone and said something in Creole. Then the ground began to peel back.
    From the grating sound, something electronic controlled the movement. Inside the small fenced area around the headstone, a square hole appeared. There was a dripping noise within, which made me wonder how anything could be underground in New Orleans without being flooded. Jacques didn’t share my concern. He simply jumped into the black opening and repeated his earlier directive.
    “This way, Reaper.”
    I peered into the complete darkness of the pit to see the shine of his eyes looking up at me. He was about twenty feet down. With a mental shrug, I braced myself and followed, feeling a small splash as I landed.
    Jacques reached out to steady me, but I brushed him off. No need to play the helpless female. The opening above us began to close with that same low creaking sound at once, adding to the eeriness.
    Over an inch of water covered the floor of what appeared to be a tunnel. There were no lights, and nowhere to go but forward. As I sloshed through the passageway after Jacques in the near blackness, I realized why Bones had insisted on the boots. They kept out whatever unpleasant squishy things I stepped on as I kept pace. The air was moist and had a moldy smell to it. When I reached a hand out, the wall was also wet. Still, I kept going, grateful that my inhuman vision meant I wasn’t completely sightless in the darkness.
    “I thought you couldn’t build things underground in New Orleans,” I remarked. “Doesn’t this flood?”
    Jacques glanced back at me while still walking. “It’s always flooded. Unless you are invited underneath, the waters are released in the tunnel.”
    Well. Marie apparently used drowning as a deterrent. That was one way to control nosy tourists.
    “That would only work on people dependent on breathing. What about the rest of the population?”
    Jacques didn’t reply. His verbal quota had probably been exceeded. After about thirty yards, we came to a metal door. It opened on well-greased hinges to reveal a lighted landing behind it. Jacques moved to the side to let me pass, then touched my arm as I went by him.
    “Look.”
    There was a whoosh. Suddenly the tunnel we’d just walked through was engulfed in protruding blades. They came out of the walls from all sides, as