Voodoo Queens of New Orleans - Vol. I | ✓

Chapter 56: Curiosity Kills Eventually...

**

Abraham's hand was cold and lifeless, like the gradual shift of the air in the room. My hand looked small in his—puny. His fingers completely enveloped mine.

The music, which was still playing, was a slow and almost melancholy piano number, however, Abraham wanted to dance to it, so we did. My left hand rested on his shoulder (which wasn't an easy feat; I had to stretch a bit) and his right hand rested directly underneath my arm. We started off slow; I followed his lead.

My body was stiff out of extreme nervousness. I couldn't look at him; I looked at his bowtie, which was nearly eyelevel. He knew that I was overtaken with nerves; he could sense it. Smell it. We moved slowly in our little space, the entire world, it seemed, watching.

"You ain't never done a dance like this, have you?" he asked me. His voice vibrated through my veins, making me shudder.

"No," I said to him. "It doesn't seem like a requirement to learn in my time."

He laughed shortly, almost like a growl radiating deep in his chest. "Very true."

I didn't know where this conversation was going. It couldn't go the route I wanted to, because there were too many people around who could easily eavesdrop. And Abraham wasn't an idiot—he knew that we couldn't speak now. But we would eventually; he waited for it like I did. His clan, who stood behind him, watched the Coterie, and vice versa. They were both ready for attack, should something go wrong. All of these elements made it impossible to find a time to speak.

"You real brave, going off to look for me," he said down at me. "What were you hoping to find?"

"I was hoping to find you—"

"No, no, no. What were you really hoping to find?"

I didn't understand his question, yet part of me felt like I knew what he was trying to say. Was he speaking vaguely so everyone else wouldn't be able to understand?

The music was coming to an end, meaning so was my time with Abraham. I hated it—this man I shared blood with was a monster who had caused so much suffering and planned to cause even more, yet I couldn't help but feel like I needed more time to speak with him.

Suddenly, as our dance ended, Abraham leaned down discretely and said:

"The southwest balcony. After The Meeting."

And then everything stopped. Abraham parted from me and took a bow, in which I curtseyed. A clap came from the head of the room—Russell Van Doren. He clapped slowly, followed by the rest of the Council applauding that eventually led to the entire room applauding. It felt out of place, but it filled that void in the air that was present after Abraham and I finished dancing. Abraham walked back to his clan with a small smirk on his face; Abraham was a vampire that mastered the art of stealth, both in the physical and metaphorical sense; he knew something was coming. He knew something monumental was about to happen; a major shift in the wind, if you will. He had to entertain these white men and women that he hated so deeply, but he did it with charm and deceit. He smiled and bowed and shook their hands and made promises of compromise, but really, he was out for blood.

But Russell Van Doren also knew this; he also had the same smile on his face that Abraham did.

**

The Meeting was going to be comprised of the faction heads—the Council, Abraham and his Elders, The Coterie, and other leaders of both voodoo houses and other influential vampire clans. It would take place in Russell's study, and they would all sit down and talk about the recent tensions that have been plaguing the parish, and try to figure out how to bring unity and peace to New Orleans once again.