Chapter Two
It was a strange and tumultuous scene at the airport that morning, as everyone trickled in to get into Seto's private jet.
"So do we really have to do this?" Joey gulped, his knees quaking.
"Of course we really have to do this," Téa scolded. "Shadi said we have to fight this great evil before it gets worse!"
Mai nodded. "So you'll just have to suck it up, Chicken Boy."
"I know, but does it really have to be a voodoo priest?" Joey wailed.
"It'll be fine, Joey," Serenity soothed. "After all, we've faced a lot of weird bad guys before."
"We'll probably all get sent voodoo dolls with pins in them and stuff," Joey exclaimed. "And I really don't like you being along, Sis. Who knows what'll go wrong!"
"I wasn't going to stay behind," Serenity replied. "Anyway, I'll have you and Duke and Tristan with me, not to mention everyone else. I feel completely safe."
"I wish I did," Joey muttered.
"Hey, maybe it'll be fun," Tristan said. "It's Mardi Gras time, after all. There'll be parades and costumes and . . ."
"Ghosts!" Joey trembled.
"Not real ones," Duke said with a roll of his eyes. "Just people dressed up."
"Isn't it bad enough we have to do this once a year for Halloween?" Joey shot back. "Why does there have to be creepy stuff at other times of the year too?!"
"Because the occult never sleeps," Yami Bakura intoned eerily from behind him.
Joey screamed, jumping a mile in the air.
"Yami!" Bakura scolded as he approached holding Oreo. But he had to admit he was more amused than reproachful.
Yami Bakura laughed. "You're going to have to get used to things that go bump in the night in New Orleans," he said to Joey, who clenched his teeth.
"You'd better watch it, or I'll make you go bump all over the floor!" he yelled indignantly.
That was the scene Seto discovered as he and Mokuba walked up to them. "He'd trounce you, Wheeler," Seto flatly remarked.
Joey fumed. "I know that, Rich Boy. But it felt good to say it, at least."
Mokuba looked to Bakura. "You're bringing your cat?"
"Well . . ." Bakura petted Oreo, who meowed in response. "Father isn't home, so we really couldn't leave her. I did consider asking the bikers if they would look after her, but I'm afraid I ended up deciding I would miss her too much. Anyway, she's a very good-natured and obedient cat."
"She'd better be," Seto grunted. "Especially on the plane."
"Murr," Oreo grunted right back.
"Doesn't she have a carrier?" Seto asked.
"She detests that sort of thing," Bakura said. "She'll behave much better if she can just sit on my or Yami's lap."
"Whatever." Seto looked to Atem. "Is this everyone you were bringing?"
"They're all here," Atem nodded. "Plus David. . . ."
David waved. "I decided to relinquish command of the Black Crown to our assistant manager so I could come along and keep Dukey-Boy out of trouble."
"Heh." Seto strolled past. "Then it's time to board."
Mokuba hurried over to Marik as they all walked outside to the plane. "Hi, Marik!" he greeted. "This is gonna be some trip, huh?"
"I just hope it will be a safe one," Marik said in concern. "Unfortunately, that's probably quite unlikely."
"We'll do the best we can," Yugi vowed.
"And that is all any of us can do," Ishizu agreed.
The flight was uneventful; most passengers decided to catch up on the sleep they had missed by being woke up and packing all night. Oreo stretched out on Yami Bakura and struck up a motorboat purr.
"Cat," Yami Bakura growled in his sleep.
"Hey, Tristan, cut the motorcycle engine," Joey mumbled. "I'm trying to sleep."
"That's not my motorcycle," Tristan grunted. "It must be Marik's."
"Then cut it out, Marik," Joey slurred.
"It's not mine either," Marik retorted.
Oreo just purred louder.
As it turned out, as their plane landed in New Orleans, so too did the flight the Big Five had taken. Everyone ended up running across each other in the airport.
"Mokuba?!" Lector stared as he saw the boy coming in with his luggage. "What on Earth are you doing here?"
". . . Hi, Lector. Everyone's here," Mokuba said with a grand gesture.
Crump gawked as the large group came in after Mokuba. "Well, isn't that a coincidence."
"Or is it?" Gansley looked to Yugi. "Odd, isn't it, that right after you learn we're coming here, all of you come as well? If it was already planned, you likely would have mentioned it on the telephone last night."
"Um, well . . ." Yugi froze, caught.
"You did implore us to be careful," Lector said. "I thought it seemed a little strange at the time. Did you know more than you were saying?"
". . . I did," Yugi admitted at last. "But this probably isn't a good place to talk about it. . . ."
"Very well," Gansley said. "Then we'll go back to the hotel and discuss it there." He quirked an eyebrow. "Is it possible that we picked the same hotel?" He was only half-sarcastic.
"I booked us at the Tolliver Arms Hotel," Seto said.
Now Lector stared. "So did we. That wasn't a coincidence either, was it, Mr. Kaiba?"
Seto scowled. "Let's talk about it there."
xxxx
The Tolliver Arms was a large and fancy hotel in the heart of downtown New Orleans. Despite the early hour, the city already seemed to be in full swing. People were everywhere—walking to and from destinations, talking on the sidewalk, some playing their music or calmly sketching on street corners.
"Does anybody ever sleep around here?" Joey blinked.
"Probably not," Tristan said. "And especially not during Mardi Gras. There's parades at all hours of the day and night!"
"I hope we get to see one," Serenity said. She studied the hotel as they pulled into the parking lot. "That's kind of a strange coincidence too, isn't it, Duke?" she noted. "The name of the hotel, I mean."
"It's a pretty common name," Duke said, twirling a piece of hair around his finger. "But you're right, Serenity; it does make me think about Snakes. He did operate around here."
The Big Five were waiting in the lobby when they all entered.
"These are some fancy digs," Joey said in approval, studying the red carpets and elaborate chandeliers. "So why did you pick this place?"
"My father owns it," Lector said matter-of-factly.
"Good enough reason," Joey said. "So you get in free or something?"
"Or something," Lector said.
"If he owns it, why isn't it named for him?" Tristan wondered.
"Why don't you see to your reservations and we'll talk about that on our way up?" Gansley said.
Seto was already going to the main desk. All of the others fell into step behind him. The clerk was less than thrilled by the size of the group. "All of these people are with you, Mr. Kaiba?" he blinked.
"That's right," Seto grunted. "Is that a problem?"
"Well . . ." The clerk typed on his computer. "At Mardi Gras, you realize that it's very difficult to get rooms."
"We're early into the Carnival season," Seto replied. "I also realize that it's mainly the last couple of weeks of the season that are extremely busy." He leaned on the desk with one arm, his icy eyes daring the clerk to try to cheat him.
". . . Very true," the clerk finally relented. "Yes, it looks like we do still have rooms for everyone. . . ."
"Good." Seto straightened.
Soon everyone was properly registered with their keys and heading up in the elevator with the Big Five.
"Man, I really thought that stuffed shirt was going to try to back out on your reservations," Joey said to Seto.
"Even though KaibaCorp doesn't have a presence in New Orleans, it's common enough knowledge that I'm not someone to cross," Seto grunted. "I could have made a great deal of trouble for him had he attempted to claim there weren't available rooms after all."
"Why would he do that, anyway?" Téa frowned. "I mean, he'd lose business!"
"He'd do it if he thought he'd make more money by turning us away," Seto said. "He might have received a call for a reservation after I placed ours and felt the second person would pay more."
"That sleaze!" Joey scowled. He looked to Lector. "And your dad would have just let him get away with it?!"
"I don't know." Lector looked away, glowering at the wall. "The hotel is named the Tolliver Arms in honor of a man my great-great-grandfather worked with in New Orleans. After he was killed, my great-great-grandfather took over the business and turned it legitimate. My father was supposed to be keeping up the tradition. He disowned me because I wasn't behaving honestly, so I would assume he still upholds the family values."
Duke, Serenity, and David exchanged a look. "So your honest great-great-grandfather named this place in honor of a man who was dishonest?" David said.
The elevator stopped on one of the higher floors and everyone got out.
"He was grateful," Lector said. "Without that man, my great-great-grandfather might not have had the opportunity to manage a high-ranking business. And it wasn't so cut-and-dry as the man being dishonest. He was engaged in criminal practices, it's true, but he also did a lot of good. He helped a lot of small towns prosper in the Old West. And he would hire anybody, regardless of gender or color, as long as they were willing to work hard. They could achieve high-ranking positions, just like anyone else; my great-great-grandfather was his business partner."
"That must have been pretty unusual back then," Mai remarked.
"It was," Lector nodded.
". . . So just what was this guy's first name?" Duke asked, although he was quite sure he already knew.
"Samuel," Lector said.
Serenity's eyes widened. "Snakes!" she whispered.
Overhearing, Lector raised an eyebrow. "He was called that," he said. "But how did you know?"
"Um . . ." Serenity flushed. "It's kind of a long story. . . ." Somehow it didn't seem the right time or place to inform Lector that his great-great-grandfather's business partner had been revived from the dead and ended up time-traveling to the present-day, where he was currently living in Los Angeles.
"Nevermind that now," Gansley grunted. "I think it's time we learned why all of you have really come here."
They reached the Big Five's Grand Suite and Lector unlocked the door, allowing everyone to troop into the living room. Then he pulled the door shut after them.
Atem came forward. "I should probably explain, since it was because of what I was told that all of this happened. I was visited by the guardian of the Infinity Items, who told me that all of you will be in grave danger here in New Orleans. He wanted you to be protected, and for all of us to band together in stopping a great evil that you will encounter here."
He received five blank stares.
"Say what again?" Crump said.
Lector folded his arms. "That's all well and good that there's such concern, but since we have no connection with the Infinity Items, why would the guardian care what happens to us?"
Atem sighed. "Your ancestors were magic users."
". . . I see," Gansley grunted. "But we are not our ancestors."
"We believe in science, not magic," Nesbitt agreed.
"I don't entirely understand myself what the concern is," Atem admitted, "but Shadi said that if this enemy were to learn about your ancestors, it could be very bad."
"Maybe he'd think that you guys would have the same abilities as your ancestors and he'd try to force it out," Tristan said.
"Or he might believe that you are reincarnations and not descendants and decide to attempt calling forth the souls of your 'past selves,'" Yami Bakura said.
"You keep saying 'he,'" Johnson noted. "Who is this great evil?"
"We're not sure," Atem said. "Apparently he's a corrupt vodun priest."
"So . . . dolls with pins and mojo bags?" Crump blinked.
"Probably," Téa said.
"Vodun is about a lot more than that," Lector said. "And the dolls aren't even supposed to be used to harm people; they're actually for good luck and blessings."
Joey stared. "Well, that's something Hollywood never told us."
"They wouldn't," Lector grunted. "That said, there are corrupt priests who turn everything on its head and do use vodun to hurt people. But what doesn't make sense is what a corrupt priest would have to do with my father. He doesn't believe in vodun."
"Good for him," Seto muttered.
"Well, we won't find that out until we go see him," Crump said. "So how about it?"
"Once I freshen up." Lector looked to Atem. "Are all of you planning to come along when we go?"
"I think it would be better if we didn't," Atem said. "I understand it's a delicate situation with your father. However, would you mind if some of us follow you there and wait outside?"
"You are welcome to do as you please," Lector said.
xxxx
The group eventually decided on the Bakuras, Yugi, and Atem following the Big Five to Lector's family's home. The others would spend time sightseeing or researching. Seto wanted to read more on Lector's family, while Mokuba wanted to go with the Ishtars to look around the city. Everyone went their separate ways while promising to stay in touch.
"Oh my," Bakura said in fascination as they drove away from the downtown area and down a road filled with strong trees lining either side. They loomed overhead, the branches of the trees intertwining and creating a canopy bridge over the street.
Oreo meowed and reached out a paw to the closed window.
"No, we are not allowing you to get out and climb one of those trees," Yami Bakura growled. "You'd just get scared and stuck, and guess who would have to climb up after you?"
"Merow," Oreo scowled.
Bakura had to chuckle as he petted her.
"Wow, these homes are all so amazing," Yugi exclaimed, staring at the mansions behind iron gates. "I wonder how old they are."
"Joey would probably wonder if they're all haunted," Bakura said.
"A lot of them probably are," Yami Bakura shrugged.
The Big Five's car pulled up in front of one particular mansion, and after an apparent conversation over the intercom, was allowed through the gates. Yami Bakura pulled up slightly down the road.
"And now we wait," Atem said grimly.
"And hope the neighborhood watch doesn't kick us out," Yami Bakura muttered under his breath.
xxxx
Lector was tense as he led the others up the winding walkway to the porch. "My father doesn't know I'm bringing all of you," he said. "He might not like it."
"Would he be inhospitable?" Gansley asked.
"I suppose that depends on what he wants," Lector said. "I don't know whether he'd be inhospitable or not, but he is certainly capable of it." He rang the doorbell and stepped back.
In a moment a dour-faced butler opened the door. "Mr. Démas," he greeted Lector. "Your father will be so relieved that you've come." He stepped back, holding the door open wide. "Do come in."
"Thank you," Lector replied, and walked through the doorway. The others filed after him, to which the butler's expression did not change one bit.
Crump stared around in awe at the expensive paintings and vases. "This is really some pad," he said.
"It used to be home," Lector said guardedly. "Not much has changed since then. Everything that I recall as being here still is."
Johnson studied the living room as they walked by on their way to wherever the butler was taking them. Fleur de lis designs were on the edges of picture frames, as well as standing loose by themselves on the walls. Other cultural items were scattered on desks and tables, such as miniature French and German flags, and others Johnson didn't recognize.
"What is your heritage, Lector?" he asked, suddenly curious.
"Hey, yeah," Crump said. "I know you said once that you're mixed race Creole, but you didn't explain any more than that."
Lector didn't look surprised by the question. "The family name in its true spelling is German in origin," he said. "When my ancestors first came over from Europe, they were German and French. Somewhere down the line somebody married a Haitian, and I've heard tell that there may be some Native American blood as well."
"Wow. I guess if you guys ever had a family reunion, it'd be a big mish-mash of cultures," Crump said.
"Pretty much." Lector tensed as the butler stopped in front of two double doors and pushed them open. This was the moment of truth. He hadn't seen the man in years. He knew that his father had rejected him and he suspected that he had gotten the rest of the family to do likewise. He had refused to even talk to his son on the phone, preferring to hang up. And now suddenly he was wanted? Why?
As they entered the room, Gansley came up next to him, protectively. The others crowded close around him as well.
"Master Leichter," the butler intoned, "your son Démas." He didn't bother introducing anyone else.
"What are we, chopped liver?" Crump grunted.
The large leather chair at the desk swung around, and everyone but Lector was surprised. His father looked very much like an older version of him, with white hair and beard instead of brown. This man, however, had a stern expression that did not lighten and a monocle aesthetically placed over his left eye. As he stood, he ignored the group and spoke only to Lector.
"Son . . . I'm glad you made it here safely." His voice was similar as well, but deeper.
"Why?" Crump couldn't refrain from snapping back. "You didn't care before, even when he really was in danger of not making it back!"
Lector waved a silencing hand at him. Now wasn't the time. "What is it you want, Father?" he asked, speaking as coolly as his parent. He could tell from the man's face and tone that nothing had changed between them. This wasn't about reconciliation. And even though he had known that was likely, his heart still dropped with disappointment and sorrow.
"I want your help," Mr. Leichter replied. "I got into a little trouble with one of my clients and now they won't leave me alone. I know you've had a great deal of experience with trouble in the business world. I thought you might be able to handle it better than me."
"Seriously? That's bogus!" Crump spat.
Lector didn't wave him off this time. "That is ludicrous, Father. You've been a businessman all your life. I've watched you handle plenty of trouble with your clients."
"Yes, but not like this." Mr. Leichter leaned forward, his eyes filled with desperation. "They're not sane, Son. They're threatening to use their magic to trap us in a life-size video game. They've got your mama and your younger sisters scared to death!"
Gansley narrowed his eyes. "But you don't believe in voodoo."
"Our family does," Mr. Leichter shot back. "And I thought maybe my client had some technology that could really do it. Apparently such things do exist." He gave Lector a cold look.
Lector's heart twisted. "Yes, they do," he said, his voice just as cold.
"So I thought if you talked to this person, maybe you could reason with him," Mr. Leichter said. "And if not, maybe you could prepare us so we'd know how to fight back."
"Every game is different. I wouldn't know how to prepare you without knowing which game they'd chosen." Lector stepped back.
"So you'll just turn your back on your mother, after she gave birth to you? And me, after I raised you to be better than that?"
Gansley's eyes flamed. He had plenty he wanted to say, and he could tell the others felt likewise. But Lector suddenly lost his temper before any of them could speak
"Don't you dare preach to me about turning your back on people!" Lector boomed. "You turned your back on me when I was in a coma, and you got the rest of the family to follow your lead! None of them ever tried to find out about me; I checked. You wouldn't even talk to me when I called you after waking up at last. Most parents would just be overjoyed that their child was awake. You didn't care!" He turned away, clenching a fist. "Part of me would like to walk out this door right now and forget this meeting ever happened."
"Good. Then let's do it," Crump encouraged.
"I can't," Lector said through clenched teeth. "I can't because I am better than that. I don't want my family hurt." He turned back to his father. "So you give me more details and I'll see what I can do."
Mr. Leichter relaxed. "Thank you, Son. I'll tell you everything."
Gansley exchanged a concerned look with the others. Mr. Leichter was clearly manipulating his son's emotions and sense of morality. And Lector, fueled by his own guilt and his longing to be accepted and loved again, was letting it happen.
Nesbitt looked back, his eyes burning. He already hated this man; he felt about him as Lector did about Yami Marik. He was more than ready to punch the guy out right now.
The story behind the trouble sounded bizarre. In addition to the hotel, Mr. Leichter was a supplier to local merchants. Several orders had mysteriously disappeared over the last weeks, and unfortunately, more than one was for a Dr. Raven, a man who ran a voodoo knick-knack shop. He had finally threatened Mr. Leichter with magical recompense, apparently believing his supplier was stealing his own cargo.
"So the problem is two-fold," Mr. Leichter said. "I have to find whoever actually is stealing the shipments, and I have to pacify this madman before he really tries something against us. I'm working round the clock to locate the thief, but I thought you would be a great one to talk to Dr. Raven . . . or to help prepare us for the calamity, whichever the case may be."
Lector looked to the others. This could very well be the corrupt priest they had been warned about, but he didn't know how he could say No and walk out. He couldn't feel right about that. But he also didn't feel right about asking the others to go along with him on this.
Johnson gave him a quiet nod. It's alright, Lector. Do what you feel you have to and we'll back you up all the way.
Gansley, Nesbitt, and Crump showed similar support. They had known coming in here that this might be dangerous. It didn't deter them.
"Alright," Lector said. "I'll go talk to him now."
Relief filled Mr. Leichter's eyes. "Good." He handed Lector a business card. "Here's his address."
Lector felt a dark chill go into him as he touched the paper. This wasn't going to be good.