Tales from NOLA

The night felt different as Eddie and I stepped out of Leander’s mansion and into the thick air of the Garden District. The humidity clung to my skin, but it wasn’t just the weather that weighed heavy on me. It had been a week since the Harold and Nancy affair, and while I’d managed to shove that mess into the back of my mind, it was still there, festering like an old wound that hadn’t quite healed. Now, with missing vampires in the mix, it felt like the city’s underbelly was about to split open again, and I wasn’t sure I liked what would come spilling out.

“We hitting the usual spots?” Eddie asked, pulling his collar up as we started walking down the cracked sidewalk.

“Yeah,” I muttered, lighting a cigarette. “If these vamps were taken—or worse—someone must’ve seen something.”

Eddie didn’t say anything for a while, just shoved his hands in his pockets and kept pace beside me. I knew what he was thinking: this was already a wild goose chase. Leander hadn’t given us much to go on, just a list of missing names and a few last-known locations. The vampires in question had been hanging out in all the usual places—bars, shady corners, the kind of spots that regular folks avoided after dark. It was going to be a long night.

- - - - -

Our first stop was a dive called Bleeders, a vampire-friendly joint just off Dauphine Street. The kind of place where the blood’s always fresh, the lights are always low, and the clientele doesn’t ask questions. The sign out front flickered in a dull red glow, casting eerie shadows across the cracked pavement. Inside, the smell of sweat, cheap booze, and something distinctly metallic hit me the second I stepped through the door. Vampires, as usual, were scattered about, their eyes glinting in the dim light as they hunched over drinks or lounged in shadowy corners.

“Look who it is,” came a familiar voice from behind the bar. Lila, the bartender, shot me a toothy grin. Her skin was pale, even for a vamp, and her long black hair fell in thick waves down her back. She had that casual beauty that most vampires pull off without even trying, but the glint in her eyes was sharp, dangerous. “Haven’t seen you in a minute, Broussard. What brings you back to the dark side?”

“Business, as usual,” I said, leaning on the bar. “I’m looking for a few people.”

“Aren’t we all?” She flashed a grin, sliding a drink toward me that I hadn’t asked for. “Who’s gone missing now?”

I pulled out the list Leander had given me and slid it across the bar. Lila scanned the names, her smile fading as she set the glass down. “These guys? Haven’t seen any of ‘em in days. And that’s not good news.”

“Tell me about it,” I muttered, taking a sip from the glass. Whiskey. Strong. “No one’s heard anything? No rumours, no whispers in the dark?”

She shook her head, her expression tightening. “Vamps don’t just go missing in this town without someone noticing. But there’s been nothing. Clean vanishes. That’s what’s making everyone nervous.”

Eddie chimed in, leaning against the bar next to me. “You think it’s someone cleaning house?”

Lila shrugged, her eyes scanning the room for eavesdroppers. “Could be. But it’s gotta be someone smart. These vamps... they weren’t just your run-of-the-mill bloodsuckers. Leander doesn’t keep idiots around.”

I slid the empty glass back to her. “If you hear anything, you’ll let me know, right?”

“Sure thing, darling,” she said, flashing that sharp smile again. “But I’d be careful if I were you. Whatever’s going on, it’s not gonna be pretty when it comes to light.”

I didn’t need her to tell me that. I already knew.

After Bleeders, we hit a few more spots. A seedy bar tucked behind an old pawn shop, a couple of alleyways where I knew vampires liked to feed on the down-and-outs. Every place we checked turned up the same story—nobody had seen the missing vamps in days. Clean vanishes, like Lila said. No witnesses, no bodies, nothing.

We were heading down Royal Street when Eddie finally broke the silence.

“This isn’t getting us anywhere, Jake. It’s like these vamps disappeared into thin air.”

“I know,” I muttered, grinding my cigarette into the pavement. “Which is exactly why we need to stop looking in the obvious places.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Yeah,” I said, turning on my heel. “Marie.”

- - - - -

Marie Laveau’s old shop was tucked away in the French Quarter, hidden behind a wrought-iron gate covered in ivy and half-buried in the shadows of an old oak tree. The shop itself was a relic, a place where tourists bought charms and candles and thought they were getting the real deal. But Marie? She was the real deal. Old as the city itself, or at least it felt that way, and sharp as a razor. If there was something moving in the supernatural underbelly of New Orleans, Marie would know.

The bell above the door jingled as we stepped inside, the smell of incense immediately filling my nose. The shelves were lined with jars of strange herbs, bundles of dried flowers, and dusty old books that probably hadn’t been opened in decades. And behind the counter, sitting in an old wooden rocking chair, was Marie.

“Well, well,” she said, her voice like silk dipped in whiskey. “If it isn’t my favourite troublemaker.”

“Good to see you too, Marie,” I said, tipping my hat. “We’re looking for some information.”

She chuckled, standing up slowly. Her hair was pulled back in a tight braid, and her eyes—sharp and knowing—seemed to see straight through me. “Aren’t you always, cher?”

Eddie gave her a wink. “Looking stunning as ever, Marie.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, elf,” she shot back with a smirk. “Now, what kind of trouble have you boys gotten yourselves into this time?”

“Missing vampires,” I said, cutting to the chase. “You heard anything?”

Marie’s smile faded as she moved around the counter. “Vampires go missing all the time. Why should I care?”

“Because these ones are different,” I said, leaning in slightly. “They’re part of Leander’s coven. And he’s worried. That makes me worried.”

Marie clicked her tongue, shaking her head. “Leander worried, huh? Now that’s something.”

I watched her, waiting for the moment. The pause. The flicker of recognition. She knew something—Marie always knew something. She moved to a shelf behind her, pulling down a dusty old book and flipping it open.

“You hear about the new guy in town?” she asked, casually, her fingers trailing over the yellowed pages.

“What new guy?”

Marie looked up, her eyes locking onto mine. “A Helsing.”

The word hung in the air like a curse. Eddie went still beside me.

“A Helsing?” I repeated, my voice low. “What’s a vampire eater doing in New Orleans?”

Marie closed the book with a snap and gave me a long look. “Brian Blanchard. He’s been hunting vampires up and down the East Coast for years. Nasty reputation. Word is, he’s in town, and he’s looking to have a few snacks.”

“Snacks,” I muttered. “As in, wipe out every vampire he can find.”

Marie nodded. “Exactly. And if a Helsing’s involved... well, those missing vamps of yours are probably ash.”

I felt a knot tightening in my chest. A Helsing in New Orleans was bad news. Real bad news. They didn’t care about alliances, covens, or politics. To them, a vampire was a vampire, and the only good vampire was one they’d consumed.

“Where can I find him?” I asked.

Marie shook her head. “That, cher, I don’t know. But if he’s here, he won’t be hiding for long. He’ll make his presence known. Helsings always do.”

I nodded, the weight of her words sinking in. This wasn’t just about missing vampires anymore. This was a hunt, and if we didn’t act fast, the whole city could become a battleground.

“Thanks, Marie,” I said, turning to leave.

“Be careful, Jake,” she called after me. “You’re dealing with something a lot more dangerous than a few bloodsuckers this time.”

Outside, the night felt thicker than before. Eddie looked over at me, his expression unusually serious.

“Well,” he said, “looks like we’ve got a Helsing to track down.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, lighting another cigarette. “And I have a feeling this is just the beginning.”