Experiment In Terror - Come Alive Part 8

"Oh yeah, you like that don't you, baby," I said with a grin. I knew his Southern sensibilities were being tested; poor guy couldn't handle anything even remotely h.o.m.oerotic.

"Is there a problem here?" A flight attendant suddenly appeared. She could barely hide the disgust on her face; I'm not sure if it was because I was acting like a child or that we were getting loosey goosey. Either way, her bun was tied way too tight, pulling back every feature on her face.

"No, we're good," I said at the same time Maximus said, "Obviously there is a problem."

"Sir," she said, glaring at me. Boy, how the friendly skies had changed. "Can I see your ticket?"

I handed her my ticket, and she pursed her lips while reading it over. "Mr. Foray, your seat is the aisle seat not the middle. Now if you don't get off this man's lap, I'm going to have you removed from the plane."

"Dex, just sit in your seat," Perry said beside me. I glanced at her. She was pressed up against the window and looking at us with a mix of revulsion and embarra.s.sment.

"Fine," I said, and quickly climbed off of him, settling down in my seat and fastening the belt. "Just trying to take one for the team."

The stewardess watched me for a few beats, giving me one last evil eye, before she moved down the aisle.

"Dex, you are something else," Maximus said to me, looking a bit shaken. Perfect.

"Once you have a Dex in your lap, you can't go back," I said. I looked over at Perry. "Ain't that right, kiddo?"

"No comment," she said, and pulled out the in-flight magazine. Yup. Fun trip ahead of us.

After that risque start, the rest of the flight was fairly uneventful. I started calling Maximus "Vegetable Lasagna", a Seinfeld reference that was obviously over his head, and did my best to talk to Perry when I could. Too bad the oaf didn't leave his seat once, not even to go to the bathroom. The rest of the time I just sat back and listened to the new Slayer alb.u.m, feeling more connected to Perry by listening to her favorite music.

My luck changed once we switched planes in Houston. Maximus was sitting further up on that plane, while Perry and I got two seats together at the back. The flight was quick, too quick to convince Perry to join the mile-high club with me in the bathroom, but long enough to drink a few b.l.o.o.d.y Marys in preparation for the Big Easy. Again, I was getting a bit excited at the idea of going to New Orleans and started wishing that it was just Perry and I there, taking the sights in as tourists. Man, what I'd give to go on an actual vacation with the woman. No ghosts, no work-just us, booze, and s.e.x.

"How you doing?" I asked her as the plane began its descent. It was already dark outside, the city a mystery beneath us. I wasn't a nervous flier but I guess she was because she grabbed on to my hand and squeezed it hard. I squeezed it right back.

"I'm okay," she said. "Kind of excited."

"Me too."

"Nervous."

"Fear of flying?"

"Yeah, I mean I'm okay, it's just not my favorite thing in the world. But I'm also nervous about the next few days...or week...or however long we'll be here."

I peered at her closely. "Bad feeling?"

She managed a smile. "Well, I never have good feelings before we do a show. I don't know, I guess I just don't like how Maximus is involved. I don't trust him."

"That makes me ridiculously happy to hear you say that."

"You don't trust him either, I know that much."

I laughed dryly. "I've never trusted him. But I gotta tell ya, I was worried about you."

She gave me an odd look as the plane rumbled, landing gear coming down. "Worried how?"

I chewed on my lip, knowing I'd gone too far to hold anything back but the truth. I turned my attention to the runway lights outside the window.

"I know what's done is done but the fact that you and Maximus...that he..."

"You know I wasn't even myself when that happened."

Right. She'd said that several times, but that didn't stop it from hurting; it didn't erase that it happened.

"Anyway, I guess I worry that you might still have feelings for him." There. I said it.

She squeezed my hand again, and this time I couldn't tell if she was trying to a.s.sure me or herself as the plane made contact with the ground, bouncing us along before the brakes were applied with urgency.

"Dex, I don't have feelings for the man. Especially not after what he did to me. He turned on me when I needed him the most and I'm not going to forget that."

"He has his excuses though, about why he did what he did," I pointed out, playing devil's advocate for some reason.

"I still don't know what they are. He said he was trying to help me in the end, but he nearly got me carted off to the hospital. It was because of him that the whole mental thing started with my parents, that was what put the idea in their heads."

I wasn't too sure about that part. As much as I hated Maximus and loved to blame him for everything, I knew Perry's parents were against her from the moment I first met them. I didn't mean that they wished her harm, that they didn't love her. But they didn't understand her and they were afraid of her and that made them dangerous.

"So you think he's going to do something like that again? Because baby, you know I am not going to let a single thing happen to you. I'm going to be with you, be in you, as much as I can."

We deplaned fairly quickly and met Maximus out at the gate. I looked around the airport, a lot smaller than I thought it would be, with all of the stores closed. When we stepped outside to line up for a cab, I was met with the unmistakable smell of swamp-musty, damp, and earthy.

Maximus smiled to himself. "My Lord, is it good to be back home." He breathed in deeply and for a moment I was almost happy for him. Almost. I wasn't. It just reminded me again that we were on his home turf and he was the one calling the shots. But I refused to let his love for his state cloud my own opinion of it.

We got in the cab and had one h.e.l.l of a chatty driver who talked to Maximus like they were old buddies. The Senegalese cabbie moved to the city just after Katrina blew through, attracted by the cheap housing and the underdog spirit of the rebuilt city. Maximus hadn't been back in the city since right before Katrina hit. Apparently after we cut ties in college, he had come to NOLA and lived there for three years, just working at a bar. That's what he'd told the cabbie, anyway.

The cabbie dropped us off on a narrow, b.u.mpy street in the French Quarter, telling Maximus that some districts had gotten worse post-Katrina and warned us to stay out of them like our lives depended on it. He said he wouldn't even drive through certain areas, no matter how much the fare was.

We thanked him for his warning, pulled our bags out of the cab, and looked up at our accommodations. Perry and I had been flying blind so far but Maximus did alright in this department. We were staying in an old three-story house with a wide front porch, gas lamps and wrought iron balconies. It looked straight out of a plantation or perhaps just straight out of the French Quarter itself. That was the thing I'd instantly discovered about the city-it looked exactly as you'd imagined it. I looked behind me at the flickering lanterns that lined the street, the brightly painted houses beside quaint bars where I was immediately tempted to drink my face off, the hidden courtyards; it was like stepping into a movie.

"I feel like I'm in Disneyland," Perry said, looking up at the house with a big kid smile on her face.

"You, missy, have to stop being so d.a.m.n cute," I told her, bringing her to me and kissing her on the lips.

Maximus cleared his throat. "Glad you guys like it, it's a bed and breakfast with the tastiest beignets you'll find in the city. Well, aside from Cafe Du Monde, if it's still there."

I pulled away from Perry and eyed him. He didn't look too pleased at our PDA, and I was wondering when he'd start questioning what was happening in our relationship. Obviously he knew that we were together now, and judging from the beady look in his eyes, he obviously didn't like it. Tough t.i.ts, ginger.

The look got even worse when we went to check in and I told the pucker-faced, extremely spritely receptionist that we would only need two rooms, not three.

"I see," she said, studying Perry and I. "I wasn't aware that there was a couple staying here."

"Neither was I," Maximus said under his breath.

"Sorry," I told her, jerking my head in his direction, "this one here made the booking without consulting us first."

She adjusted her gla.s.ses. "Yes, well, since it was such a last minute reservation, I'll just cancel the room without penalty. Probably better that way anyway-it is the haunted room."

"Haunted room?" Perry spoke up, looking frazzled.

The woman smiled. "It's just George, the resident ghost. He's a friendly one, don't worry."

"Friendly, sure, I've heard that before," I said. She gave me an odd look and I didn't bother trying to explain myself. The day I met a friendly ghost was the day I came up with better a.n.a.logies.

Both of our rooms were on the third floor, overlooking the street, with a shared balcony connecting us through French doors.

Perry and I tossed our bags on the bed and surveyed the quaint room. It was a little too old lady-ish for my liking, like the receptionist decorated it, but Perry seemed absolutely enthralled. I guess there was a romantic, girly-girl somewhere beneath that Mastodon t-shirt.

"I guess the b.a.s.t.a.r.d wants to keep an eye on us," I told her.

"I heard that," came his m.u.f.fled voice through the wall. Oh great, and the walls were paper-thin too. Though that made me extremely glad that I'd remembered to pack something.

"What's so funny?" Perry asked.

I wiped the smile off my face. "Nothing, just trying to look on the bright side. Shall we unpack?"

"No time," Maximus said from the doorway. s.h.i.t, he was just everywhere, wasn't he?

"Can't you just give us a few minutes alone?" I asked.

"Sorry I'm such a c.o.c.kblocker-"

"At least you're apologizing this time."

"-but there's someone I want you to meet and I'm not sure if we'll miss her or not."

I raised my brow. "A...a her? You've had contact with the female species? I don't believe it."

He pointed at Perry. "I've had intimate contact with this one."

"You son of a b.i.t.c.h," I snarled, ready to jump him.

"Guys!" Perry yelled, putting her arm out in front of me. "Dex, calm down. You, ginger b.a.l.l.s, you shut the f.u.c.k up."

I laughed. "Ginger b.a.l.l.s, that's my girl!"

He smiled venomously at her. "The very b.a.l.l.s you-"

Before I had a chance to knock his face in, Perry was there first, kicking him right in the shin with her Doc Martens. Her violence surprised even me, and I stood there, shocked and impressed. And maybe a bit scared.

Maximus was shocked too, groaning and rubbing his leg. "Have you gone f.u.c.king crazy, Perry?"

She put her hands on her hips. "Maybe I have. If you say another f.u.c.king thing about what happened between me and you, I'm going to show you what else I can do to your b.a.l.l.s, you hear me?"

"Jesus," he swore, straightening up, "all right, all right. You're not much of a little lady after all, are you?"

"I never was. Now tell us where the h.e.l.l you want us to go and who the h.e.l.l you want us to meet and why."

Maximus looked at me and I shrugged. I was going to let Perry do her thing. This inner b.i.t.c.h of hers was giving me a hard-on.

"All right," he said, wincing a bit as he shook out his leg. "There's a girl I used to know, our contact. I want to see if she still works at the bar, the one I used to work at. It's just here in the Quarter on Royal Street."

"So let me get this straight," she said slowly, "this girl is our contact and you don't even know if she still works at the same place. Haven't you been in contact with her?"

"Not since I left."

I frowned at him. "Maximus, you do know what the term 'contact' means, don't you? It generally means you've been in contact with the person."

"Yeah, well I reckoned there wasn't time. Besides, we don't need her, we can investigate the haunted house on our own. I just thought we should get her involved."

"Why?" Perry asked, leaning back on one leg, full of att.i.tude.

He slowly tilted his head back and forth, considering the question. Finally he said, "Because she's a lot like you guys."

"What do you mean like us?" I asked warily.

"She sees ghosts, too. She's...pretty special."

"And what's her name?" Perry asked. "This special ghost girl?"

"Rose," he said, almost sadly. "Her name is Rose."

And with that, he turned and left the room, heading down the staircase. I had a feeling that Rose was more than just a contact to him. How much more, well I guess that was something we were about to find out.

I nodded at Perry. "Grab your purse. At least we're going to a bar."

I think we were all going to need a drink at this point.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

We got to the bar by walking down Bourbon Street for a bit, just to get a feel for the place. Perry and I stopped at one of the bars that were open to the street and ordered two sickly sweet Hand Grenades to go, sucking back on that antifreeze while we navigated the early crowds and puking frat boys who'd probably been drunk all day. And how could you not be? I mean booze to-go? Public drinking was encouraged? Suddenly every bad vice I had was begging to come back.

Rose's bar on Royal Street was further away from the touristy crowds, a large place filled with live jazz, crazy cheap drink specials, and locals having a good time. I was in heaven, especially with the hot woman at my side.

"Do you see her?" I asked Maximus as we stood in the doorway, surveying the room. Most people were sitting near the jazz band, though a few of them were playing pool, and a handful were sitting at one of the two bars.

He shook his head.

"What's the name of this place?" Perry asked.

"It's nameless," he said absently, walking toward the jazz set-up, searching the seats in front of it. A lanky woman with giant b.r.e.a.s.t.s and an afro to match was singing sweet sadness, while two old hep cats played easy drums and mellow ba.s.s.