"The souls of the dead reside in a portion of the underworld known as Guinee.

This is not a place of torture or punishment, but rather a murky plane,

which sprits must pass through before reaching the "deep waters"

where they will be reunited with their loved ones."

–A Brief History of New Orleans Voodoo, by Madame Bones

New Orleans, 2006

The smell of incense wafted out of Madame Bones' House of Voodoo. It engulfed Niya like a warm hug. Her moment of calm only lasted for a moment. A group of noisy tourists rushed out the door, almost knocking her over. Niya rolled her eyes and headed into the shop.

It was packed, as per usual. Tourists weaved in and out of the crowded rooms. Some looked awed and entranced while others cast skeptical glances at the altars. A thin older woman pulled her phone out in an attempt to take a sneaky photograph of Maman Brigitte's shrine. Niya was quick to swipe the phone out of her hand. "There is a no photography sign, literally right there." Niya handed the woman's phone back with a pointed look. The woman scowled but took her phone and headed for the exit.

Niya approached the shrine. She gingerly placed a fresh chili pepper from the farmers market in front of a tiny bottle of spiced rum. She winked, as if she and Maman Brigitte were in on a joke.

"Niya, is that you?" Talia Reynaud called from the back. "Come here, please!" Even with the crowds and the music, her mother's voice still managed to snake it's way to her. Niya headed toward the curtain, pushing it aside with one hand to reveal the hidden room.

The front of the shop was open to mundanes. They came in droves to buy trinkets and catch a glimpse of the mysterious Madame Bones. The gris-gris bags, prayer candles, and good luck charms were not some cheesy trick. They were real, but for the most part they were harmless. It was what lay behind the curtain that drew the shadow world of New Orleans inside.

The ifrit watching the door nodded at Niya as she passed. The gills on his cheeks ruffled with each breath. She smiled at him as she pushed back the curtain. The back room was busy today as well, though decidedly less chaotic than the room Niya had just left.

She waved at a familiar werewolf, and smiled at a vampire she'd hooked up with at a party a few weeks before. "There you are, Niya. Come here," Talia called again. One of her manicured nails taped the small TV screen behind the counter. "I saw you on the camera. I hope you brought some of those peppers for me as well. Auntie is making her famous jambalaya tonight."

"I did, mama," Niya said, hefting her shopping bag onto the counter. Her mother poked around in the bag for a moment. Satisfied with the haul, Talia waved her daughter away.

"Sit it on the table, I'll take it upstairs." Niya did as she was told, ducking behind a second set of curtains. These only hid the storage room and the stairs leading to the Reynaud's apartment. "While you're back there, can you grab the silver bullets?"

Talia's accent was a thick mix of different places. To Niya it had always seemed like a good gumbo. It was a heavy dose of Creole, smoothed out by a little English. Plus, a sprinkling of Spanish thanks to her grandfather's Cuban roots. Niya's own accent had mostly faded, even living in New Orleans with Talia and Auntie Bones. Sometimes she'd put on a thicker accent and imagine she'd grown up in the bayou like her mother and her mother's mother.

Niya located the jar, it was on a high shelf and she was forced to drag a chair over to climb up. The silver bullets clinked against the glass. Niya returned them to the other room, sliding them across the counter to her mother. Talia edged away with a sour look. The glass was thick enough to protect any werewolf against harm, but Talia still didn't like to handle them. "I'll take the groceries up to Auntie, could you finish up with these two?"

That was when Niya noticed the two customers at the counter. The corners of her mouth curled up like she had a bad taste in her mouth. It wasn't the silver bullets that had Talia darting out of the room so fast. It was the company. Niya sighed, "Shadowhunters."

The shorter of the two flashed a charming smile. He had the angelic look down pat, blonde curls, golden eyes, and a dazzling smile. Niya was disgusted. "How many bullets do you want?" She asked, avoiding looking either of the boys in the eyes.

"All of them," he told her. She eyed the jar, full to the brim with little silver cylinders.

Niya frowned. "Who do you plan on taking down with these?"

"Oh, no one, hopefully." He looked up at his friend, a much taller boy with jet-black hair and bright blue eyes. Unlike the blonde, he looked very uncomfortable. "I guess we'll have to melt them down, we don't use guns."

She narrowed her eyes, looking between them. "Melt them down? If you're going to melt them down, why don't you just buy a silver tea pot?"

The blonde turned back to her. "Oh, that's a great idea. Do you have a silver teapot?"

"No, I do not have a silver teapot." Niya enunciated her words to mark her frustration. She glanced at the taller boy again; he had a bow slung over his back. Niya had never been one for weapons, but she was drawn toward it. She ducked behind the counter and returned with a box. "But I do have these." She flicked open the box to reveal a set of beautiful hand-carved arrows, each with a silver arrowhead.

The dark haired boy stepped forward to look them over. He ran his fingers up the silver spiral that covered them from end to end. "These are nice," he said, glancing over his shoulder at the blonde.

"Seven hundred," Niya told him.

"First rule of bartering, Alec, don't let them know you like the product," the blonde said. He made a tsking sound and Niya decided she wanted him out of her shop as quickly as possible.

"Just pay her and let's go," Alec said.

The blonde shook his head but put seven hundred on the counter, in cash. Then he leaned forward, peering over the counter. Niya stepped back, and he looked her up and down. She frowned, wondering if Shadowhunters had an x-ray vision rune she didn't know about. "So, where's your mark?"

Alec's eyes widened and he yanked the blonde backward. "Please, ignore Jace. He's an asshole."

"Yeah, I'd agree with you there." Niya glanced back at Jace. The boy smiled again. She had a feeling that he was very used to girls throwing themselves at his feet when he smiled at them like that. "Not that it's any of your business, but I don't have a mark. I'm not a warlock."

"Well, you aren't a werewolf either," he mused, more to himself that to her. He motioned toward the back room. "Not like that one."

"That one happens to be my mother."

Jace looked at Alec. "Doesn't she seem a little…" He wiggled his fingers toward her as if that was supposed to convey some actual meaning. Alec shot him a look.

"I'm not a downworlder," Niya snapped. She immediately regretted it. Several of the customers cast curious glances in her direction. Most people who shopped here knew who Niya was. She'd been working the back register since she could walk. Still, she hated marking herself as mundane, in front of them. "I just have the sight."

Quickly she gathered the cash and wrapped up the arrows in brown paper. "But my question is, why are two Shadowhunters buying weapons in a warlock's shop? Why aren't you at the Institute?"

"We're tracking a rogue werewolf from New York," Jace explained. "He killed three mundanes, but he fled before we could find him."

Niya shuttered, remembering the night she had found her mother bleeding in the streets of the French Quarter. Talia had been running a late night delivery to a vampire party in the Garden District. When she was walking back to the shop, she'd been attacked. To this day they still didn't know which werewolf had turned her.

"Have you asked the Pack to handle the situation?" Niya asked, raising an eyebrow. Auntie Bones had helped Talia through her first full moon. But after that she'd been accepted into the New Orleans Pack. Niya had been reluctant to trust them, but over the years they'd become a major part of her life. "Does the Institute even know you're here?"

"Depends on which Institute you're referring to," Alec muttered. Jace shot him a look.

"Oh for fucks sake. Don't you Nephilim have rules to follow?" Niya shook her head and turned for the landline. "You know what, I think I should call Mariah Rosewain and warn her a pair of rogue Shadowhunters are in her city."

Alec quickly leaned across the counter and grabbed her hand before she could put the phone up to her ear. "Hey, we have this under control. No need to get the Institute involved."

"This may come as a big shock, but I don't really trust you," Niya said, tugging the phone away. "This is my city."

Niya started to dial, but Jace darted around the counter. "What if you were to help us?"

"What makes you think I'm even vaguely interested in doing that?"

"You said it yourself, this is your city. There's a crazed werewolf on the loose. Help us stop him." He crossed his arms, looking smug as if he'd already won.

She rolled her eyes and pushed him out from around the counter. "Fine, I might know where we can look. There's a big party at Ciudad de los Muertos tonight. Everyone's going."

Alec raised an eyebrow. "You think a werewolf is going to show up at a vampire party?"

"This is New Orleans, the only time we don't blur the lines is when the Mardi Gras floats are being judged." Niya shrugged. "But Carmen Veracruz is not in the habit of inviting Shadowhunters to her parties. The only way you're getting in is with me on your arm."

Jace flashed his thousand-watt smile. "Sounds like a date."

"Sorry, pretty boy. There's a strict plus one policy, and I'm not taking you." They both turned to look at Alec who suddenly looked very pale. "Oh, and bow boy, you better dress up."

OoOoO

Niya met the Shadowhunters across the street from St. Louis Cemetery No. 3. To any mundane passerby it would seem as if the gates were locked and the cemetery was quiet. To anyone with the sight, the loud raucous sounds were unmistakably that of a downworld party.

"When you said city of the dead you really meant…" Alec trailed off, staring at the cemetery with a mixture of shock and curiosity on his face.

"Ciudad de los Muertos was Carmen's idea," Niya explained. "The cemetery was hit pretty hard during Katrina, and she wanted to find away to clean it up. The Clan owns most of the plots anyway. It's like a contest to see who can have the nicest tomb."

Jace shook his blonde hair out of his eyes. He cleaned up well, not that Niya would ever say that to his face. "Isn't this consecrated ground? How are there so many vampires here?"

"There's a rumor Madam Bones cursed all the priests back in the day. Eventually they gave up trying to consecrate the place. I don't know if it's true or not," Niya explained with a shrug. "But, Auntie says vampires are only affected if they believe. A lot of the vampires around here came from places were Christianity didn't exist yet. Some of them practiced voodoo. Carmen was Catholic, but she's also way old, she built up her tolerance over time."

Niya was fairly certain that Jace turned out about halfway through her explanation. She rolled her eyes. "Why are you even here? I told you I only get one guest."

"I am a very good party crasher," Jace said with a smirk. He waved them off. "Now you two lovebirds go ahead, don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

"Why do I get the feeling that the things he wouldn't do are the things that would keep us from getting killed?" Niya muttered. Alec smiled, like he wanted to laugh, but felt bad about it. "How do you put up with him?"

Alec shrugged. "Jace is my parabatai," he said, as if that explained everything. Maybe it did, Niya didn't really understand the parabatai bond. It wasn't like she had a lot of Shadowhunter friends she could ask. The New Orleans Downworld mixed and mingled. But, the Shadowhunters hardly left their Garden District fortress.

Niya linked her arm through Alec's as they made their way through the cemetery. The further back they got, the louder the music became. Eventually they made it to the edges of the party. The broad-shoulder vampire in the middle of the path shot Niya a smile. But it quickly evaporated when he took a second look at Alec. "Hey, Red," she called. "Have a nice night!" The vampire only mumbled a response.

Alec looked over his shoulder, and then back at Niya with a curious look. "Red's an ex. We're still friends." Niya cast a look back at him; the vampire was still watching her. "Well, we were before I showed up to a downworld party with a Nephilim as my date. I hope we find this werewolf, or my reputation in this city is trashed."

Further down the path, they ran into more downworlders. They weaved in and out of open crypts, holding drinks in every shade of color imaginable. Niya had long ago learned to pregame or pack her own flask when she was going out. The drinks in those glasses couldn't be trusted, for all she knew they might turn her into a rat.

"Niya!" A pretty girl with purple hair and red eyes stepped out of one of the tombs. Her outfit was as bright as her hair. "I didn't know you were coming."

"Love the new hair color, Lucent," Niya said, forcing a smile. The warlock had taken to coloring her hair unnatural shades so her bright red eyes seemed normal. "I didn't know I was coming either."

Lucent looked Alec over and then gave Niya a very un-subtle wink. "Is this your rebellious phase? We all go through one." Then Lucent surprised them all by pulling Niya away from Alec and kissing her. "When you get tired of dating Nephilim, you know how to find me."

Niya watched the purple-haired warlock saunter off into another tomb. When Lucent was gone, she turned back to Alec. "Another ex," Niya explained. Alec stared at her for a moment. She raised an eyebrow. "What? Not everyone is as painfully heterosexual as Jace." He stared for another half-second before shaking himself out of it.

She tugged on Alec's arm, pulling him deeper into the cemetery. "The werewolves tend to congregate back here." They glanced around, hoping someone would stick out. "If we can't find him here, there's a chance he went to Lafitte's." At Alec's questioning look, she added, "Werewolf bar. But he'd only go there first if he wasn't familiar with the city."

"Maybe he isn't," Alec suggested. "He was in New York for a while."

"Sure, but the New Orleans Downworld is tightknit. If he's here, it's probably because he knows someone in the city," she explained. "Oh, there's Michelle and Nate, let me go talk to them. If someone new is in town, they'll know." Niya started forward and then hesitated. "It's probably best if I don't bring you."

"I'll be fine over here," he assured here. Niya deposited Alec in a quiet corner, and headed toward the pack leader and her mate.

Michelle was tall with dark blonde ringlets that fell to her waist. She was younger than Talia but not by much, and they'd been close friends even before Talia was turned. Niya waved, catching her attention, and Michelle smiled.

Nate, a tall dark-haired man, scooped Niya up easily and spun her around. "How's my favorite voodoo princess?" He teased. Niya rolled her eyes, but laughed when he put her down. "Where's your mom?"

"At home eating jambalaya with Auntie," she said with a shrug.

Nate feigned shock. "You mean you skipped out on Auntie's famous jambalaya? That Shadowhunter must be something special." Niya froze like a deer in the headlights.

"Don't look so shocked," Michelle said. A tiny crease between her eyebrows was the only sign she wasn't perfectly calm. "Red made sure the word got around."

Niya groaned. "Of course he did."

"Does Talia know you're on a date with a Nephilim?" Michelle asked. "I know your mother let's you get away with a lot, but I don't think she'd approve of this."

Yes, Talia Reynaud couldn't care less if her daughter was running around with half the Downworld. To do any less would be more than a little hypocritical. Talia had been wild in her day too, and if she knew which downworlder had been Niya's father, she'd never told.

"We aren't on a date," Niya corrected. "We're actually looking for a werewolf. That's why I came to you."

Nate's easy-going demeanor shifted. His shoulders tensed and he glanced around as if doing a head count of his pack. Michelle eyed Niya suspiciously. "So you're helping Shadowhunters now?"

Niya stared at them, a little shocked that they'd gotten defensive so quickly. "Come on, you know me better than that. I'm watching out for you guys. Apparently a werewolf up in New York attacked a few mundanes. They're dead. Alec says they tracked the guy here."

Michelle and Nate exchanged a look. When Michelle turned her gaze back on Niya, her eyes had softened. "Do you remember when your mother was turned?"

Niya frowned. Of course she remembered that. She'd only been eight at the time, but it was burned into her memory forever. Niya nodded.

"She wasn't the only one attacked that year," Michelle continued. "Four mundanes died. The Rosewains tried to track down the werewolf responsible, but they never found him. We sent out as many people as we could, I guess we stopped him because the killings stopped. But we never caught him either, never even figured out who he was."

"Hold up, are you saying the guy who attacked my mom is the same guy who killed three people in New York?" Niya asked, holding up a hand. "How is that even possible?"

"Niya!" It was Alec. She didn't think, just sprinted toward the sound of his voice. Michelle and Nate were on her heels. Niya went up and over one of the smaller tombs and landed in a crouch on the other side.

Just in front of her was a body, a mundane body. Niya edged closer, though Michelle's hands on her shoulder attempted to pull her back. The woman had been scratched, deeply. She was lying in a pool of her own blood. Niya remembered how much blood Talia had lost. If it hadn't been for Auntie Bones, she wouldn't have survived long enough to make the change.

"She's gone," Michelle murmured, pulling Niya to her feet. She stumbled back, bumping into Alec who put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. That was when she noticed the tomb. There was a large 7 painted on the entrance, a thick drop made it's way down to the ground. Under the new moon, it looked black, but Niya knew with a bone-chilling certainty that it wasn't.

"Seven nights, seven moons, seven gates, seven tombs," she whispered.

Nate looked to Michelle, both of their faces set in grim lines. "He's picking up where he left off."

"Picking up what?" Alec asked.

Niya glanced up at him, realizing for the first time that she was shivering. "He's trying to open the Gates of Guinee."

A quiet thump behind Alec made them all jump. They turned to see Jace striding forward from the shadows. "I tracked him," he said. Only his hair, which was wind swept and messy, gave any indication that he'd been gone. "He headed toward the lake, but I lost him in the crowd."

"Crowd?" Niya repeated. They were all quiet for a moment, and then Niya snapped her fingers. "Shit! St. John's Eve is day after tomorrow. We've had mundanes in and out of the shop all week buying supplies. Most of them are camping around the bridge."

"This was number five," Nate said quietly.

"He only needs two more, he could open the gate in two days," Niya murmered. "Auntie always said the veil was thinnest on St. John's Eve."

Michelle had knelt down next to the body. She pulled a box of unopened cigars from one pocket, and an apple from the other. "He's customizing his offerings."

Niya remembered when they pulled Talia inside. The thick smell of cigar smoke had stuck to her clothing even in the rain. "My mom was supposed to be number five."

"Who's left?" Nate asked Michelle. "Which loa?"

"Baron Kriminel and–"

"Baron Samedi," Niya finished. "God, I hope all those chili peppers got through to Maman Brigitte."

OoOoO

It rained the next morning, making the rest of the day unbearably humid. Even inside, Niya was sweating. She'd long given up on convincing her curls to stay out of her face. She shoveled another spoonful of jambalaya into her mouth, straight from the fridge. She couldn't bear to turn on the microwave in this heat.

Talia had gone out with Michelle, Nate, and a few other werewolves from the Pack. Jace had disappeared some time after stealing half a leftover po-boy from the fridge. Carmen was gathering her Clan and preparing to join the hunt as soon as the sun went down.

Auntie Bones was downstairs in the shop. She was working the back counter and acting as a go-between for all the downworlders running in and out. Niya threw another book at the wall, barely missing Alec's head. "Whoa, that looks really old."

Her eyes widened and she ran over to grab it and smooth out the pages. "It is," Niya murmured. She ran her fingers over the Chthonic script, the black ink had faded to gray over the centuries. "There's nothing in any of these books. Nothing."

"Jace is out there with half the downworlders in the city," Alec reminded her. "Maybe they'll find this guy before tonight."

Niya made a face. "Baron Kriminel was the first murderer. People burn chickens alive to appease him. If he has any say in it, he'll get his sacrifice tonight. The only way to stop him is to ask for a favor, and he always comes back at Fete Ghede to collect. I won't let anyone I know be in debt to him. So that leaves Maman Brigitte, she's the only thing that can stop Baron Samedi from opening the last gate."

"Loa, aren't they just demons?" Alec asked. Niya shot him a scalding look. "I mean, can't we summon that lady and ask her to help."

"You don't summon a loa," Niya reprimanded. "They're not just demons, actually no one's sure what they are. Some think they're greater demons from a realm we haven't discovered yet, others think they're angels. The local faeries like to claim they're part of the courts, which actually isn't as batshit as it sounds."

"Which do you think they are?"

"Not angels, for sure," Niya said. "Angels are too pretentious. They never help people. Loa are much more hands-on. Could be demons, but not like any I've ever heard of. They're probably fey, but definitely not gentry, at least not part of the courts we know of. But loa love making deals, and they love to bite you in the ass if you don't read the fine print."

"Sounds like a faerie to me," Alec said with a nod. "But how do we find them?"

Niya bit her lip. "I don't know. They certainly don't mix with the locals." She tapped her fingers on the Chthonic book for a moment. "Maybe Auntie has some ideas. I'll go convince her to help."

"I'll go with you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Okay, but just know that you're going to make this a hell of a lot more difficult."

OoOoO

Madame Bones sat the counter, reading a book that looked older than anything Niya had ever seen. It certainly looked older than Auntie, but Niya knew Auntie's appearance couldn't be taken at face value.

Tourists hoping to catch a glimpse of the Madame Bones often overlooked the small woman. They were expecting the living incarnation of Mama Odie from The Princess and the Frog. Though to be honest, they weren't far off in looks or personality. Only Auntie looked about three decades younger than her fictional counterpart.

"Hey, Auntie, any news?" Niya asked, hopping up on the empty chair behind the counter.

Auntie Bones shook her head, rubbing Niya's back reassuringly. "We'll find him, baby girl, you just be patient."

"Actually I had an idea about that," Niya said. She glanced over her shoulder at Alec. "Well, we both did." Auntie followed Niya's gaze to the Shadowhunter, and scowled.

"It's bad enough I have to let them into my home, but now you want me to believe one of them actually had a half-decent idea?" Auntie asked, skeptically. "Shadowhunters ain't never done a thing for New Orleans, and I don't expect them to start helping now. We take care of ourselves."

Niya gave Alec a look, she'd told him this wasn't going to work. "Auntie, I know the Rosewains-"

"Don't you ever mention their names in this shop," Auntie snapped. "The current puppets in the Institute are not the first, and they will not be the last. Shadowhunters come and go. The Downworld was thriving long before they bullied their way in. We will continue to thrive long after they're gone too."

Niya took a long deep breath. "Okay, forget the Shadowhunters. This is about me. I have to do something, that werewolf almost killed my mother. I am not letting him get away again. I'm not letting anyone else die."

"Baby girl, I know you think you're a part of this world, but–"

"I want to summon Maman Brigitte," Niya informed her. She was quick to cut her off before she could drudge up the same argument they'd been having since Niya was thirteen.

Madame Bones mumbled a quiet prayer to herself, before fixing her gaze on Niya once again. "Now why on Earth would you want to try something as stupid as that?"

"You know as well as I do, Maman Brigitte is the real power behind the Ghede. She can put a stop to this before those gates open and who knows what comes out."

"Making a deal with a loa is a very dangerous thing. They know you, parts of you that you don't even know yourself, and they will use that knowledge against you."

"If she knows me, then she will know I'm doing this to save my city. I'm doing this to protect everyone who will be affected if that final gate is opened. That gate cannot open, Maman Bridgette will see that. She has to."

Auntie Bones looked at her for a moment. "Alright, I can see that you will try this with our without my help, so I best make sure you do it right."

"You know how to do it?" Niya asked, surprised. "You know how to summon a loa?"

"Honey, you don't really think you're the only human fool enough to summon a loa, do you?" She shook her head with a sigh. "My sister tried once, many years ago. Let's hope this time goes better than that one did."

OoOoO

It was twenty minutes till midnight when they reached the middle of Magnolia Bridge. It was packed with tourists and voodoo practitioners alike, all waiting for midnight. The events of St. John's Eve would carry for 24 hours, until midnight the next day.

"Still no word from Jace or any of the others," Alec said. With much protest, Auntie had agreed to let him come along, in case they needed protection. "The werewolf is still out there."

"At least they haven't found a sixth body yet."

"He still has twenty minutes," he reminded her.

Niya made a face. "With any luck, this won't take that long, and Maman Brigitte will stop him."

"And if she doesn't?"

"Then I have all day to convince her to stop Baron Samedi from opening the seventh gate." Niya squared her shoulders and approached Auntie Bones.

Auntie offered her a box of salt, and Niya slowly got to work, creating Maman Brigitte's veve on the ground. Behind her Madam Bones worked the crowd, with a little bit of magic. Soon they were chanting along with her, united in a common purpose that they didn't quite understand.

They lit the candles and laid out the offerings of chili peppers and rum. Auntie Bones grabbed Niya's shoulder, looking at her with dark eyes. "Last chance to turn back."

Niya shook her head. "I have to do this."

Auntie nodded once. "I know."

Niya turned back to the veve. Alec stood close by, bow in hand, prepared to shoot at any moment. "Try not to kill any good guys, alright? I know it's hard for you Shadowhunters to tell the difference."

He shook his head. "Try not to get yourself killed."

She shrugged. "No promises."

Niya sat down, and grabbed the bottle of spiced rum. She took a swig straight out of the bottle. "Alright, Maman Brigitte, come and get me."

OoOoO

When Niya opened her eyes, the bridge was empty, save for the veve on the ground. It shimmered in the light. She ran her fingers over the markings; the white salt had been replaced with black charcoal.

Across the bridge a woman stood, her dress whipped around her as if she was caught in the middle of a hurricane. She was too dark skinned to be Maman Brigitte. "Hello?" Niya called out to her, but the woman didn't move. Niya approached the woman. She was holding an old, broken, baby doll.

"Oh, my sweet, sweet, Ama," the woman murmured. She kissed the doll's forehead. "I did this to you. I made you like this." The doll's arms moved, and Niya jumped. She took a few steps closer and sucked in a deep breath. It wasn't a doll; it was a child. A child with a crack across its forehead that seeped black-blood.

"Ciba told me this was wrong, she told me not to play with death," the woman murmured. "But I couldn't let you go."

"Mama?" A small voice called from one end of the bridge. Niya and the woman looked toward her. The girl couldn't have been older than ten. She stood hand in hand with Auntie Bones, who looked exactly like she always had.

"You have to go, Affa," the woman called. "I love you so much. Remember that." Auntie Bones didn't say anything, she only looked disappointed. "I have to do this, Ciba. I have to return what I stole. I'll make it right for Affa, I promise."

The woman climbed up onto the rail of the bridge, and then she jumped. "No!" Niya screamed, she ran to the railing, but it was too late. It wasn't a long fall, but the woman had sunk into the bayou like she'd had rocks tied around her ankles.

"And so you see, the seventh tomb is one of my own making." Niya turned toward the voice, a haunting woman with a head of golden-red hair and emerald green eyes. She was the most beautiful person Niya had ever seen. "I should never have granted that poor woman's wish, but I did, and I regret it every day."

Niya looked toward the end of the bridge, Auntie Bones and Affa had disappeared. "Was that…"

"Your ancestor? Yes, Affa grew up in Ciba's care, but she never spoke to me or any other loa as long as she lived. It was several generations before your family found their way back into my arms."

They were quiet for a few moments. "What is it you came for, my child?"

"Auntie Bones said you would know," Niya said quietly.

Brigitte smiled softly. "And she is correct, but I would like to hear it from your own lips. Tell me why you wish for the seventh gate to remain closed. Do you know what's on the other side?"

Niya hesitated. "Well, no, of course not. Does anyone? But if that werewolf is murdering people to get to it, he can't have good intentions for whatever's on the other side."

The loa nodded. "You are not wrong, but I cannot interfere in the world of the living without good cause. There is a natural order to things, and one day the gates will open. They were always meant to."

"New Orleans is a safe haven for Downworlders. This is the one city where they can be free to be themselves. The Shadowhunters don't bother them, because they don't do any harm." Niya paused. "Well, at least not too much harm. But if the forces of the dead are unleashed on this city, it mean the end of that safety. The Shadowhunters will come and wipe away everything the Downworld has built here."

"But you believe yourself to be a mundane, isn't that correct?" Brigitte asked. Niya frowned, confused by the wording. "Why should a mundane care about what happens to the Downworld?"

"I may be a mundane, but Downworlders raised me. Warlocks and werewolves and vampires and faeries, they've all been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. If there's even a chance I can save them, I have to try."

Brigitte approached her, and ran her fingers through Niya's hair. "Your blood speaks true, and your heart is in the right place, even if your mind does not grasp why."

She looked out over Bayou St. John for a moment and then nodded. "These waters have seen enough bloodshed for one lifetime. This will not be the seventh tomb, at least not today. I will tell Samedi to lock the gate."

Niya let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Brigitte. Thank you so much."

"I will leave you with a warning, the gates will open. Sooner than you may think, and the boy who will wield their power will be much worse than the foe you face today. When that happens, I expect you to answer the call. You say you want to save the Downworld? Then do so. That is my payment for granting you this wish."

Niya nodded, though she wasn't exactly sure what she was agreeing to. Brigitte leaned down and pressed a kiss to Niya's forehead. "Now go, my child, and discover who you truly are."

OoOoO

Niya opened her eyes to the dark, humid, New Orleans night. She was sticky with sweat and her hair was plastered to her face. Alec dropped to his knees in front of her. "By the angel, I thought you were dead."

She smirked. "Sorry to disappoint." Niya glanced around. The bridge was half empty, and of those that remained, mundanes were in the minority. "What happened? Did he get his sixth body? I couldn't have been gone that long, and Brigitte said she would close the gate."

Alec glanced behind him, sharing a look with Auntie Bones. "Niya, you've been sitting there for almost twenty four hours."

Carmen Veracruz took a step forward, flicking her hair out of her face with a glossy manicured nail. "The clan tracked the werewolf, but it was too late. He got his sixth victim."

"But you caught him, right?" Niya asked, looking between Carmen and the others. The vampire nodded once. "Then he can't hurt anyone else." No one else said anything. Niya frowned. "Why are you all staring at me like that?"

Alec cleared his throat. "Because you were supposed to be victim number seven." He nodded toward her arm. Niya looked down. It wasn't humidity and sweat that had her feeling all sticky. It was blood. Lots of it.

Niya grabbed her arm, looking for the scratches. But there was nothing. "How?"

"We don't know," Talia said. "It was chaotic, everyone was fighting, and then you were scratched. But, when I got to you, the scratches were healed."

Niya frowned, looking up at the sky. The moon was hardly visible; it wouldn't be full for weeks. "It wasn't the turn that healed me."

Auntie Bones shook her head. "It was Maman Brigitte."

OoOoO

After a long sleep, and a big breakfast, Alec and Jace were finally leaving. Auntie Bones couldn't be more eager to shoo them out of her apartment. Niya walked them downstairs; glad they decided to close the store today. She wasn't in the mood for any snide comments from the Downworlder clientele.

"I never thought I'd live to see the day I actually wanted to thank a Shadowhunter for their help." Niya shook her head, with a small smile.

Jace stared at her for a moment. "Well, where's the thank you?"

"I said I wanted to, not that I was going to."

"She's even more stubborn than you," Alec teased.

"Well, if the full moon comes, and you don't turn. Give me a call," Jace winked before heading toward the door.

"You still aren't my type!" Niya yelled after him.

He laughed. "I'm everyone's type."

Niya rolled her eyes and turned back to Alec. "I still don't know how you put up with him. I want to smack that smug smile off his face."

"To be fair, sometimes he deserves it." He looked toward the door. "I guess I should go."

"You don't seem too excited. I would've thought you'd be running back to New York after all this."

Alec ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know, I guess I kind of like it here. It's different. People are different. It's nice."

"People aren't different," Niya said, shaking her head. "They're just Downworlders. If you branch out from your Shadowhunter bubble, I'm sure you'll find a whole bunch of people just like us."

They looked at each other for a long time. Alec looked like he had something he wanted to say, but instead he just looked away. "You know, um," He looked down at the ground, focusing very intently on a broken tile. "I'm not…"

"Not interested?" Niya supplied. He looked up and nodded. "Yeah, I figured. Don't worry; I'm not interested in you either. I don't date Shadowhunters." Alec gave her a small smile, his shoulders relaxed like there was a weight off them. Niya glanced toward the front door, where Jace was trying, unsuccessfully, to pretend he wasn't watching. "But, if you ever need to get Jace off your back, or I don't know, your parents. I'm very good at parties, and I'm only a portal away."

Alec smiled and started to turn away. But Niya grabbed his arm. "When I was with Maman Brigitte, she told me to find out who I truly was. I intend to do that. Maybe you should too." Niya stretched up to plant a kiss on his cheek, for the sake of Jace who was not so subtly peeking through the window. "See you soon."