Special thanks goes to Bucky for being a beta-reader for this part and helping me with Mardi Gras. Any mistakes made in representing the event are completely my fault. Anything I got right is because of her.
The Shadow Walker series, Separate Trails
By JF
Jackson
Prologue
And so it was that
later
As the miller told his tale
That her face at first just ghostly
Turned a whiter shade of pale.
Whiter Shade of Pale -- K. Ried/G Brooker
Time: Eight years
previous, Mardi Gras
Place: New Orleans
Although he had been born and raised here, there were times in Gabriel Knight's life when he thought there was no better place on earth to be than in New Orleans. Mardi Gras was one of them.
New Orleans was a party city anyway, but on Mardi Gras, it went from casual party mode and kicked into high gear. The city filled with tourists, everyone hell bent on one thing, having a good time. There was no better place to be, especially if you were a good-looking, twenty-seven year old man who wanted to have as much fun as you could. And fun, to Gabriel, usually meant being in the company of one or more beautiful women. Preferably, beautiful women who were not out to have a "relationship," but were more interested in just having a good time. Mardi Gras brought out these women in droves, and to Gabriel, it was a multi-day chance, once-a-year, to get a taste of heaven.
This year was to be no exception. He was still young enough to be able to make the most of his life, he lived on his own, he had a career as a writer, (okay, his two books were hardly best sellers, but it was something, damn it!) and he owned a business. Not a thriving business by any means, but it was something he loved (books) and it was his, lock, stock, and barrel. It was enough for him. The big time could come later, for now, it was enough to know he was some sort of success.
He made all the usual preparations for Mardi Gras, which involved two rituals. The first was to make sure the back room in his bookstore, where he also lived and slept, was not too messy, and the sheets were changed. The second was to go to confession. His Gran, a devout Catholic raised Gabriel in the family faith. When Gabriel had started growing up and taking a more active interest in Mardi Gras, Gran insisted he went to confession before the celebration began. Although she would not say it, Gabriel knew she was terrified that something would happen during Mardi Gras and he might be forced to meet his maker. She wanted to make sure his soul was absolved of as much guilt and sin as possible. She was not the only guardian concerned for her young charges soul. As a child and a teenager, it was not unusual for Gabriel to run into most of his friends and classmates at the church, "cleaning their slates" so they could go forth and sin anew. As an adult, Gabriel's faith now could be described as lax, but he continued to go to confession for Gran's sake. This year it was the only time he had gone. Although he tried to tell himself it was only to make Gran happy, truth be told, it had become part of the Mardi Gras ritual, as much as watching the parades, partying with total strangers, and drinking too much alcohol. He would have felt uncomfortable if he had not gone, confessed his sin, and said the proper prayers to absolve his soul.
It was Saturday, the official start of the four-day weekend, which would end on Mardi Gras day, or Fat Tuesday, promptly at the stroke of midnight, marking the day. Although the Mardi Gras celebration had been going on earlier, the weekend before was the time things really kicked up. People flocked into the city in droves all determined to have the best time they could in four days. Gabriel was standing among a throng of people, watching (or trying to watch) the Endymion parade. In his left hand was a giant Hurricane in a plastic "geaux" cup. His right arm alternated between lying at his side or resting on the shoulders of a woman he had met last night. The reason why he did not constantly keep his arm around her was because she was interested in collecting as much throws as possible from the parade.
Her name was Sherry ("Just like the wine!" she had explained in a high pitched giggle.) Sherry was an exquisitely beautiful creature with hair the color of caramel popcorn and skin so flawless she could have been a porcelain doll. Her body was absolute perfection and her wardrobe seemed designed to deliberately showed her fine female attributes to there fullest. She was wearing a skin-tight black skirt that left a good ten inches of exposed skin before her knees. Up top she wore a sleeveless blouse that ended just below her breasts, giving anyone who saw her a good view of her trim, flat stomach. Her breasts were a study in perfection themselves, large, firm, and sensitive as hell. (As Gabriel could testify from last night.) She was a wonderful woman to watch a hell of a lover, but lacking in conversational skills. At this point in his life, she was Gabriel's idea of the perfect woman in every way.
He watched as Sherry fought her way through the crowd, trying to get as close to the floats as possible. Hundreds of pretty plastic beads lay around her neck and Gabriel's pockets were stuffed with little tokens to the point where he thought they might burst. Still, Sherry was not satisfied. Gabriel realized it was not the having; it was the getting. The more throws she could entice the parade participants into tossing in her direction, the more beautiful and desirable she could consider herself. In Sherry's small world, looks were everything. Gabriel could understand she certainly did not have much of a brain to be proud of. She pushed right up to one of the metal barriers, among a group of people also determined to collect these Mardi Gras momentous, shouting with the rest of the crowd, "Throw me somethin' Mista!"
When the men on the float failed to see her among the rest of the crowd, a pretty pout settled across her beautiful lips. Still, she would not admit defeat. Boldly, she ripped open her blouse, scattering a couple buttons, exposing her beautiful breasts, saying nothing, but smiling invitingly.
Her efforts worked the men tossing the throws noticed her and began throwing things in her direction. Handfuls of pretty colored beads, small cups, Frisbees, foil wrapped moonpies, and even a few metal coins were showered in her general direction. The crowd around her fought madly for these mementos, Sherry joining right in.
Gabriel watched this little performance, a smile on his lips. Although he could barely see her, among the crowd of people, he knew what she had done. Sherry was not the first woman he had seen try this "different" method of attracting the attention of the parade people and he knew she would not be the last. It was Mardi Gras and almost anything was allowed. He was pleased to see though, that she got a large share of admiring glances when she pulled her stunt. She also got groped by a few men, but she did not seem to mind. Their relationship would not last past Mardi Gras, if it even lasted until tonight, but for now, she was with him. It was a reflection on himself as a person, that he could be in the company of such a beautiful woman, someone almost every man there would desire.
He watched as she wove her way back to the crowd, her hands full of new treasures. She made her way over to him, grinning happily. "Look what I got!" she exclaimed.
He smiled. "Good job."
"I wanna get more, but I have an idea." Her eyes were as bright as two sparklers.
"Oh? An' what's that?" he asked.
"I want you to take all of this," she explained, trying to shove handfuls of beads and other trinkets at him.
"Whoa!" He almost fell backwards, into other parade watchers as he backed away. "Be careful, Sher, I don' wanna' spill my drink."
"You've gotta take this!" Sherry exclaimed, pouting again. "My idea is if I look like I don't have any stuff yet, they might feel sorry for me, and give me more. Hurry, I've almost missed one float, I don't want to miss another!"
He started to protest, then shrugged. Why not indulge her? What harm would it do? "My pockets are pretty full," he reminded her.
"We'll find a way." She started draping her beads around his neck.
It took several minutes to transfer all her stuff into his possession, and when she was finished, he felt bloated with the stuff. The plastic beads may not have weighed much, but when you had a thousand or so strands around your neck, it added up. He wondered how she managed to move so freely with all of it.
The other trinkets were transferred into pockets. Although it was much too hot, technically to wear his trenchcoat, Gabriel was glad he did. It had several pockets inside and out. By the time Sherry was through "loading him up," he felt like some strange cross between a street person and a hawker of stolen jewelry. Part of him felt like looking at people and saying, "Psst, wanna buy some throw?" then opening his jacket to show them the bulging glitter. "Got some lovely cups here. Beads? Thousands of them. C'mon folks, don't be shy!"
"Cool, thanks!" Sherry said, when the deed was done. "I'm gonna go get more. I'll be back." To seal her promise, she kissed him on the lips. He returned the kiss and watched as she fought her way to the floats. It was a good Mardi Gras, maybe one of the best.
"Mista? Mista?"
He heard the voice, then felt the tugging on the edge of his coat. He looked down and to his left. Clutching the hem of his coat as if it were some sort of lifeline was a child, staring up at him.
The first thing he noticed about the child was her eyes. They were large and expressive, fringed in long, thick, reddish orange lashes. One eye was blue, the other green. They stared up at him with an expression of deep, sadness.
While Gabriel never considered himself someone who was good with children, he never minded them too much either. He smiled. "Somethin' wrong, little one?"
She nodded, staring up at him. "Ah lost 'em," she informed him.
He could hardly hear her tiny voice in the drone of the crowd. Transferring the Hurricane to his right hand, he carefully, he crouched down to bring his ear closer to her mouth. "Lost who?" he asked.
"Them," she answered. "Sarah and John. Ah have't find em'." Although she carried a southern accent in her small voice, he knew she was not from Louisiana.
His brow furrowed, wondering who Sarah and John were. "What 'bout your Mommy and Daddy?"
She shook her head. "Don' have any. Ah have't find Sarah an' John, they're prob'ly lookin' fer me."
"Are they your parents?" he asked.
She nodded. "Fostah parents!" Looking at him, she shut her right eye, the green one, staring at him with just the blue one. "Please help me find 'em, Ah lost 'em."
He had no experience helping little ones find lost guardians, but Gabriel would not turn her away. Maybe he felt some sympathy for her, being an orphan himself, or perhaps it was just that the girl was incredibly cute with her long orange-red hair, unusual eyes, and the smattering of freckles across her tiny button nose. It did not matter. New Orleans, during Mardi Gras was a human zoo; he was not going to leave this tiny child to the tender mercy of the crowd. They would swallow her up. "What's your name, little one?"
"Kierra," she told him.
"Well, Kierra, I'm Gabriel." He put the almost empty "go" cup on the ground and offered her his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
She took his hand and shook it, her tiny fingers curling around only two of his. "Nice t'meet you too, Gabriel. Now could you please help me find Sarah and John?"
"Well, I'll do my best," he said, trying to set her young mind at ease. "Where did you last see them?"
"Thataway," she pointed through a tangle of legs, that indicated down the street in the direction of the parade.
Hmm, this isn't going to be easy, he thought. "Do you remember what they looked like, or what they were wearing?"
She thought hard, her brow furrowing. "They were both wearin' shirts," she finally informed him. "Pants too. Like mine." She pointed to her jeans. "Ah think John's shirt is blue an' Sarah's is... pink. Yeah, that's it, pink." She nodded, pleased that she was able to remember that much.
While Kierra was please, Gabriel was disappointed. Two people in jeans, one with a pink shirt the other with a blue shirt was not a very accurate description. This is gonna be like finding a very small needle in a very large haystack. "Well, tell ya what, Kierra. Why don't I lift you so you're on my shoulders, then maybe you can look around an' spot them. How does that sound?"
She thought for a moment, then nodded. Carefully, he lifted her up, putting her on his shoulders. She was about four years old and weighed hardly anything. He helped her so she was literally standing on his shoulders, his hands holding her legs just above her knees, his lower arms resting along the back of her legs to steady her. "Wow, Ah'm taller than everyone!" the child exclaimed.
"Yup. Gives you a good chance t'see everyone," Gabriel commented.
It was at this moment that Sherry returned, laden down with an enormous collection of glitter. "Hi!" she began. Then she saw the child on his shoulders and her bright smile changed into a frown. "Who's this?"
"Sherry, this is Kierra. She seems to have lost her foster parents," Gabriel said.
"Oh." Sherry did not look at all sympathetic for Kierra's plot. Instead she looked annoyed. "Well, find a policeman to help her," she suggested.
"We might do that," Gabriel admitted. The thought had crossed his mind that he might have to get professional help to locate Kierra's guardians, but he was not quite ready to give up so easily. The chances were that John and Sarah were looking for her as hard if not harder than Kierra was looking for them. "But we thought we'd try this, first."
Sherry did not look happy with this idea. "But I wanna watch the parade!" she whined.
All the admiration, all the desire Gabriel had for Sherry disappeared as she finished her sentence. He suddenly saw past her beauty, to the person inside. Her stupidity was obvious and did not bother him in the least, but now he was seeing something else within her, a self-centeredness that suddenly made her look less beautiful. His eyes narrowed as his mind flashed to a vision of her thirty years from now, in her fifties, her looks gone, her personality hard and bitter as she realized that she no longer had the power to manipulate people to do her bidding for the promise of pleasure. As far as Sherry was concerned, she was the center of the universe and anything that did not agree with this was welcome to go straight to hell. "No one is sayin' you can't watch it," Gabriel said slowly. "But me an' Kierra are gonna try t'find her family."
Sherry's face clouded over as she realized the full implication of his words. This good looking man who up until now had been doing all the right things, which was everything Sherry wanted, suddenly decided this slip of a child was more important than her. Her eyes narrowed into steely slits. "Fine, have fun." She turned her back to him, forgetting about all the throw she had been so carefully collecting and having him store for her.
Gabriel shrugged. He started to ask her if she wanted any of the items in his pocket, but he saw she already put her arm around a man in the crowd. The man looked at her, with an expression of disbelief, then put his arm around her. Sherry was obviously all set.
"Sorry."
He looked up. Kierra was looking down at him. "It's okay, Kierra," he assured her. "Let's try to find Sarah and John."
He roamed down the parade route as best he could, letting Kierra be the lookout. Occasionally he had to remind her of their mission, which was to find Sarah and John, not to look at the parade. Most of the time though, she kept a sharp eye out.
With the amount of people crowding the streets, it was slow going to cover any ground. Gabriel wondered if his mission was one doomed to failure, when suddenly Kierra started shrieking. "There they are! Sarah, John!"
Gabriel looked up to see where she was pointing and started heading in that direction. "Sarah, John!" he called out, trying to add to Kierra's shout and attract their attention, even though he could not see them himself.
Finally though, he saw two people stop and turn in their direction. A couple in their mid to late thirties, wearing expressions of sheer panic. Then, when they looked up and saw Kierra, riding on Gabriel's shoulders, their expressions changed to ones of relief. The woman's face crumpled into tears of relief as she rushed forward. "Kierra!"
"Sarah, Ah losted you!" Kierra exclaimed, trying to scramble down from Gabriel's shoulders into her waiting arms.
"Whoa, hold on a moment, little one," Gabriel advised, holding firm to her legs. "You almost pitched head forward it' the crowd. Lemme help you." Gently he lifted her off his shoulders, letting the woman take her.
"Here ya go, Ma'am. Safe an' sound."
"Oh thank God!" The woman enveloped Kierra in a bear hug, which the child returned eagerly. "I should tan your bottom for running off like that, but I'm just too happy to see you!"
"Don't you ever do that again, Kierra!" The man scolded, catching up with them and joining in with the hug. "Sarah and I were worried sick about you!"
"Why?" Kierra asked, when she was finally freed of the group hug. "Ah wasn't losted. Ah was with Gabriel. You were the losted ones!"
For a moment it looked as if Sarah and John were going to get upset at Kierra's fresh remark, but then they both laughed, obviously too relieved at seeing her again to scold her. "Thank you," John said, shaking Gabriel's hand. "Thank you for finding her, Mr.?"
"Knight, Gabriel Knight," Gabriel said, shaking his hand. "An' I didn't find her, she found me. I couldn't just let her wander around alone."
"Kierra, why didn't you find a policeman?" Sarah asked the girl.
"Because Gabriel is a blue eye," the child said.
"Now, Ki, hush up that talk," Sarah said.
"Why? It's true," Kierra said.
Gabriel had no idea what she was talking about. Part of him wanted to ask, but the expressions on Sarah and John's faces told him that might not be a good idea. Perhaps there was more to the child's eyes than just happening to be of two different colors; maybe she was a mutant. While Gabriel had nothing against mutants himself, he knew there were plenty around who did. But he did wonder what she meant by him being a "blue eye." Did her eyes see things others did not? Did they somehow tell her that he was someone she could trust?
"Well, I'm just glad we found you, both." he finally said, deciding to end the awkward moment. "I was startin' t'worry we'd have to go to the police. And they're overworked enough."
John nodded. "I guess this is one of those situations where all's well that ends well, huh?"
Gabriel nodded. He spent a few more minutes with them, allowing them to thank him and saying good bye. Before he left, Kierra threw her arms around him and gave him a big hug thanking him for helping her find her lost foster parents. Sarah and John offered to take him to dinner to thank him for his help, but he declined politely. He had lost Sherry's company, but that did not mean he could not meet someone else to spend the rest of Mardi Gras with. When he left the three of them, he was whistling.
Time: The Present
Place: Bourbon St. St. George's bookstore
Yawning, Gabriel stumbled through the curtain that separated his back room/sleeping quarters from the rest of the shop. Grace, his assistant did not even blink as he made his way to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup.
Grace waited until Gabriel had taken a long swallow of coffee before speaking. "Good morning," she said her voice gratingly cheerful. "I've got messages."
"Uh-huh," Gabriel mumbled, looking into his coffee cup. He wondered if it was big enough to crawl inside of it.
"Gee, you look more washed out than usual," Grace commented. "Did the Ragin' Cajun keep you out late last night?"
Gabriel looked over at her, one brow raised. "Jealous? D'ya wish we'd invited you along, sweetheart?"
"Pu-lease," Grace dismissed that notion with a wave of her hand. "The last thing I need in my life is to party with the likes of you and Remy LeBeau. I swear, Gabriel, there is something about that man that spells trouble."
Gabriel resisted a chuckle, leaning against the table that held the coffee maker and the daily paper. He knew exactly why Remy made Grace nervous. It was not the fact that Remy was young, good-looking, and knew it, qualities that were an instant turn-off to Grace, nor was it the fact that Remy was a mutant. Grace was not the type to hold something extra in a person's genetic makeup against them. She was the type to judge by personality alone. What bothered Grace was that she sensed something weird about Remy. She could not place her finger on it, but Gabriel knew what it was. She could sense that Remy was a half vampire. She could not pinpoint it, but she knew something about him was not quite right. Gabriel was not about to tell her what it was about Remy that set her teeth on edge either. He did not know what Grace would do if he told her Remy LeBeau, a man who had somehow managed to become his friend, was a half vampire, but he did not care to find out either. "Aw, Remy's okay," he said, slowly. "A little bit conceited, but other than that-"
"Talk about the pot calling the kettle black," Grace said with a snort. She made a flicking notion with her hands, dismissing Remy as too trivial to bother with. "Let me know when you want your messages."
Although this was usually the time for Gabriel to retrieve his messages, this morning he did not take the hint. Instead he stared into his coffee cup, thinking.
"I-is something wrong?" Grace asked, looking at him.
He looked up at her. "No, nothin' really. I just had a strange dream last night."
"Really?" Her brows knitted in a worried expression.
"It's all right, it wasn't that sort-of dream," he assured her quickly. Grace knew that sometimes his dreams were not just dreams. Sometimes they were warnings.
"Oh?" The look on her face said she was not ready to believe it until she knew more. "What was it about?"
"Somethin' that happened years ago, durin' Mardi Gras." Gabriel took another sip of coffee. "It was no big deal. Jus' happened t'meet up with this little girl who'd lost her folks. I helped her find them."
"Was that the dream or what really happened?" Grace asked.
"Both," Gabriel said, setting down his now empty cup. "I dreamed about what had happened. Kinda strange cause it was 'bout eight years ago, an' I thought I'd completely forgotten about her. I mean, it wasn't a big deal or nothin'. We found her foster parents, they were real glad t'see her, and we parted ways. By the time Mardi Gras was over, I'd forgotten about it completely. Until last night."
He rubbed his head and got himself another cup of coffee. "I guess it's just one of those things."
"Maybe, maybe not," Grace said.
He looked at her, frowning. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Maybe the dream is telling you something. Maybe you're going to see this girl again soon." Grace suggested.
He rolled his eyes. "She wasn't from the area, Grace. I don't think she was even from Louisiana. She'd be... oh, eleven or twelve now. Why would I run into her again?"
"Who knows?" Grace said. "But lots of people come to New Orleans. Maybe you forgot about her, but she never forgot about you."
Gabriel shook his head. "Grace, anyone ever tell you that you think too much?"
"Yeah, most of them had the IQ of lint."
To Be Continued...