One Hundred Saints (6 page)

It took me almost two hours to completely take the muscles out and clean the bones, but when I was done I got up, humming Emmie’s song, and picked up the jars. I took them to one of the backrooms I hadn’t quite gotten around to rebuilding yet and placed them on a small bench. I’d get around to doing something with them eventually, but for now they were of no use to me.

I used the back of my arm to wipe the sweat off of my forehead as I went back to collect the pile of skin. I gathered it all up and went into the kitchen to find bags to toss it into, before heading outside to the small pyre I had set up. No one else lived in my neighborhood at the moment, so I didn’t care if anyone saw me with no clothes on.

I threw the bags onto the wooden blocks, doused it with gasoline, moved away a few feet before I lit a match, and tossed it onto it.

While that was burning, I could go inside and package the bones. I figured since I was heading into the French Quarter today, I could stop by usual buyers and see if anyone was interested. I hated going into the heart of the city, but that’s where they all mostly were.

I would have to find my favorite backpack to put them in. It was also the one that let my clients know that I was coming to sell and not buy.

I took a deep breath once everything was taken care of and went back to soak in the tub for a little bit. I wanted to get to Bourbon Street before noon came because then it would be pure hell for me to find my next saint.

If I leave in an hour, I should be okay.

I wasn’t sure what time it was because I didn’t have a working clock in my home; I used the sun to gauge the different times of day and I had become quite good at it.

I really didn’t want to leave until I had scrubbed everything off of my body, but it would take me a while to get there since I was going to walk for the most part, so I grabbed an old t-shirt from a small pile I kept near the tub and cleaned myself as best as I could.

Once I was done, I stepped out and walked into the small living room that doubled as my bedroom and proceeded to pull clothes out of the closet. A white button down shirt with half sleeves, a pair of black jeans, and black slip on shoes would have to be it for today. I wouldn’t button my shirt though, because it might prove to be hot on the walk and I didn’t want to arrive anywhere sweating.

When I was clothed, I reached around on the top of the small ledge in the closet, and found my comb. I cleared my throat as I walked back into the living room and stood in front of my partially cracked mirror. I moved around in front of it a little bit before I saw enough of myself, that I was able to comb it all back and make sure I looked neat. I glanced at my beard and sighed; I’d have to find someplace to get a trim since it was starting to look longer and wilder than I would have liked.

“It’s gonna take a lot more than a comb and a trim to make you look neat and decent,” I said to my reflection softly, with a chuckle.

I leaned down and hoisted my backpack over my left shoulder, before I walked out the front door. I never bothered to lock it; those few that lived in this area knew who I was and as such, were afraid to come near my home. I didn’t bother putting out the fire in the backyard either. If the house burned down it would be a vast improvement to what it was now, but I also knew that the spirits protected me so I wouldn’t have to worry about it.

With a deep sigh, I started the long trek to the French Quarter, hoping that I would make some good sales today.

I
t took less than the hour I had been hoping for by the time I got to Bourbon Street. The first place I was going to stop was Marie’s Cove of Voodoo, because not only did she have the most money of all my buyers, she was always looking to be supplied.

I walked past the La Rue Chateau hotel and rolled my eyes when I almost got run over by a small group of college aged girls that were laughing loudly and talking about how drunk they planned to get.

None of them would make good saints; they would be missed by someone and I didn’t like to use foolish people either. It tainted the magic.

I went down a few blocks then crossed the street, and as I pushed the door open, a small young woman walked out in a huff, flipping her dark hair over her shoulders.

“Ah! Grimm Valot!” Marie’s old, powerful voice rang out.

“Didn’t like what you told her?” I asked with a laugh, as I walked over and let her wrap her arms around me.

Priestess Marie was a small, stout woman that had immigrated from Barbados. She had white hair that she kept under a white wrap, and always wore a dress of some kind. Her face was lined with age and wisdom, but her narrow brown eyes were as young as the day was long.

“That girl doesn’t matter right now, but I want to talk to you about her,” she replied, her eyes filling with mystery.

I nodded and handed her my backpack. She waved at me to follow her into her back room where she would hold her ceremonies that were worth more money than any person could usually afford, but desperation ran rampant in the world and she would profit from it greatly.

I waited patiently, leaning against the wall inside the curtain, while she pulled out the young boy’s bones and the bowls of blood.

“How old was he?” she asked, examining the bowl.

“Couldn’t have been more than ten,” I replied thoughtfully.

“Oh, he’s a saint now!” she cackled. “I’ll take it all. Come back to the front, I got money for you there.”

She handed me my empty backpack as she went by me. I wasn’t sure how old she was but she moved faster than most people that I assumed were around her age. I went around the front counter and waited while she leaned down and pulled out two thick brown paper bags and handed them to me.

“Thank you,” I said, taking them from her. “Now, you said you wanted to talk to me about that girl?”

A slow smile spread across her face as she pulled herself up onto the white wooden stool that sat behind the counter. I used that time to put the paper bags into the backpack, before slinging it over my shoulder again.

“That girl was looking for you,” she hissed, throw her smile.

“For me?” I asked curiously.

“She said she was looking for Grimm; you’re the only Grimm I know.”

I turned around and walked to the front door and pulled it open, but she was nowhere to be found. Was this the same person that had sent the last saint to me?

“Did she say why?” I asked from the door.

“She did, but I want something from you before I tell you,” Marie said, her voice dropping to a low, powerful tone.

I let the door close and walked back to the counter, curious as to what else I could possibly give her.

“I want a promise,” she said, when I placed my hands on the counter.

“What kind of promise, Marie?” I prodded.

“I want you to promise me that when you and that girl find each other, you will bring me her blood. She’s a good girl, Grimm. I saw it when I read her cards. You
will
find each other again and that’s the price for the information I will give you.”

I let my head fall back and I let out a sigh. Obviously Marie had found another saint for me and even though I should have been grateful, I found myself feeling like I was being set up. She may have been good to me all these years, by purchasing my wares, but I knew that getting into business with her could lead to trouble. It didn’t matter though; four more saints and I would be untouchable.

“Alright,” I finally said, looking back down at her.

“You give me your hand first, Grimm Valot. I want to see if you’re lying to me,” she commanded sternly as she held her own hand out.

I shook my head and chuckled, but I dropped my hand, palm up, into hers and waited while she squinted and looked. Marie had tried this before; to read the lines on my hands and see if I was lying to her or not, and every time she had tried it, she was unsuccessful, so I wasn’t worried.

“Damn,” she finally said, letting my hand go and shaking her head. “I still can’t see nothing.”

“I gave you my word, Marie. Now give me the information you have,” I replied in an even tone.

“Her name is Emily Thibideaux. She’s staying just down the street at La Rue Chateau. I saw the card when she opened her wallet. But be careful Grimm; even the smallest creature can lead to the downfall of a powerful man like you,” she warned with a smirk on her face.

It
is
Emmie,
I thought in a stunned silence. I knew the look on my face gave way to the shock I was feeling because Marie slammed her fist on top of the counter angrily.

“You remember your promise to me, Grimm Valot, or
no
spirit will be able to keep you safe from me.”

“Yeah,” I replied, not really listening to her. “You have my word.”

I turned around and walked out of Marie’s Cove without a care in the world about her threat. She should’ve known better than to take the word of a killer to heart, but if I wanted to keep her as a buyer, I would have to bring Emily’s blood.

I’d have to find Emmie and I’d have to do it before Marie sent her dogs out to get the blood for her.

Fuck,
I thought irritably, as I started to make my way to La Rue Chateau. I only hoped that she would’ve went back to the hotel instead of out into the crowd. Her life was depending on it.

I
stopped a few doors down from La Rue Chateau and thought my options over. If I was going to make Emmie a saint, surely I would give her the privilege of being the last one. But if I was going to do my best to get her the hell out of New Orleans, would it be worth living the rest of the time looking over my shoulder before I had a chance to complete my work?

And who exactly would I be saving, anyway? I wasn’t sure if she was still
my
Emmie or if she was someone completely different now. The only way that I would be able to find out for sure, was to walk into the hotel and ask for her.

I ran a hand back through my hair to make sure it was still presentable as I made my way to La Rue Chateau. When I pulled the doors open and walked in, I saw someone quite familiar. The girl behind the counter had come so close to being a saint once, but when I realized that she wanted my body instead of being a part of a greater plan, I let her go before my intentions became clear.

I had to keep my body and soul pure, to be able to complete my plan, because becoming tainted would corrupt it all.

I smiled as I approached the counter, hoping that she would remember me enough to know not to lie to me, but
not
remember enough to assume I wasn’t still a threat. Even if I couldn’t martyr her, I could still sell her bones for a handsome fee, if she tried to cause trouble for me.

She looked up from her papers with a smile at first, but when our eyes met, the blood left her face. The only other time I had ever seen that was when I was the permanent cause of it, and I couldn’t help but be fascinated in this moment.

“I .. Um ... Welcome to ...” her voice faltered off and I had to bite back my laughter. It appeared that she had remembered me after all.

“I’m not here for you,” I said, putting my backpack on the floor. “I’m here for someone else.”

“Okay,” she replied uneasily.

“Emily Thibideaux is staying here, yes?” I asked, leaning an arm on top of the counter.

She nodded but didn’t say much else. She didn’t move to get me any information either, which is what I had been expecting; a name in exchange for the information.

“Did she come back? Is she in the hotel right now?” I asked irritably.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t give out any information on our guests,” she replied softly.

I stared at her for a moment, trying to decide how to proceed. Did I take her, destroy the tapes, and drain her of blood, or did I try to smile and start all over again?

The boy
did
say Emmie was looking for me.

“She’s expecting me,” I said.

“Your name?” she asked, picking up the multi-line phone in on the desk behind the counter.

“Just tell her I’m an old friend,”I replied evenly.

The girl with the beautiful, long brown hair nodded, and turned her back to me as she punched the room number into the phone and waited.

“Miss Emily?” she finally said softly. “You have a visitor. He said to tell you he’s an old friend.”

I waited patiently while she listened for a moment, before she slowly nodded her head, and hung up the phone.

“She’ll be down shortly. You can wait over there,” she said nodding at a square formation of leather chairs in the lobby.

I let out a small sigh as I leaned down to pick up my backpack and headed to the chairs. I decided to sit at that one that would give me the full view of the lobby. This way I could see Emmie when she appeared and decide what I wanted to do with her. Even though I didn’t fear Marie, I also didn’t want to lose the business.

I crossed a leg over the other and waited patiently when I heard the distant ding of the elevator. For some reason, I felt myself becoming nervous and I cleared my throat quietly, as I trained my eyes on the hallway that led straight to the front desk.

It felt like a life time before I saw the small, woman that had almost knocked me over leaving Marie’s shop walk up to the counter and talk to the girl that could have been one of my saints. After a few moments of conversation, the would-be saint nodded in my direction and Emmie spun around.

I smiled and stood up. The look on her face went from curiosity to understanding in a matter of moments as she practically ran over to where I was sitting.

“Grimm?” she asked excitedly as she neared me.

“Emily Thibideaux,” I replied, the smile still on my face.

“Oh my God! Grimm!” she shrieked, reaching up to wrap her arms around my neck.

I would be lying if I didn’t say that it made me feel uncomfortable, but I let her have her moment of joy without putting up a fight. Instead, I put my arms briefly around her waist, then gently pulled her back and looked into her pretty brown eyes.

“It’s been a long time,” I said softly.