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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.
Copyright © 2019 by Bella Night / Christina Benjamin
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Crown Atlantic Publishing
Version 1.1 September 2019
CONTENTS
1. Greyson
2. Wes
3. Marc
4. Malcolm
5. Marc
6. Brooke
7. Cali
8. Cali
9. Deana
10. Wes
11. Malcolm
12. Etti
13. Greyson
14. Deana
15. Greyson
16. Greyson
17. Izzi
18. Etti
19. Etti
20. Etti
About the Author
GREYSON
The crescent moon had just risen over the compound when Grey walked into the courtyard to address the awaiting wolves and witches. He’d even managed to get a few representatives from the Malveaux vampire faction to attend—no easy feat considering Grey’s army had slaughtered a few hundred vampires only hours ago.
He’d nearly had to empty his entire savings to get the ancient vampires to attend. But the promise of money and vengeance appealed to the notorious undead family’s mob mentality. The Malveaux family was angry at Cora for allowing so many of the vampires to be slaughtered without retribution. She’d apparently told them she no longer had use for them now that she had what she wanted—Izzi.
Grey tried to push that disturbing thought from his mind as he took his wife’s hand. Etti was by his side, but he could feel the tension building between them. She wasn’t in agreement to his plan. She was still angry Wes had chosen to save her rather than stay with Izzi. And despite barely surviving the riverboat attack herself, all Etti wanted to do was charge straight into the bayou on a haphazard rescue mission that would most likely get her killed—muchlike Wes had.
That was another thing Grey couldn’t think about right now— Cali’s death and Wes’s subsequent suicide mission. The only thing
Grey could do was try his best to unite the feuding factions of witches, wolves and vampires. It was their only chance to get Izzi back. And if they failed . . . the supernatural world as they knew it would be over.
Grey gave Etti’s hand one last squeeze, willing her to stop shooting daggers at the vampires now gathered in their home. Then he stepped into the center of the crowded courtyard and cleared his throat.
“I want to thank you all for coming. I wish this gathering were under better circumstances. I know normally, getting these three factions in the same room together would be a recipe for bloodshed. Today’s battle’s a prime example. But I’m here to tell you that if we don’t find a way to get my daughter back from Cora Laveau, constant bloodshed will be our new reality. Today is a turning point. Yes, only hours ago we were fighting against each other in this city’s cemeteries and on its river, but the battle has taught us a valuable lesson. We share a common enemy and unless we work together to defeat Cora Laveau, this war will never end.”
One of the vampires made a rude sound. “We were promised vengeance and you speak of peace?”
“I’m not proposing peace,” Grey replied. “Only that we find a way to work together to get my daughter back.”
“And why should we care for one werewolf girl?” Another vampire asked.
Etti shoved her way in front of Grey. “Because if we don’t save my daughter, the things I want to do to you murderous bastards will be nothing compared to what Cora can do with Izzi’s power.”
Grey struggled to restrain his mate as he felt her wolf clamoring for any excuse to tear the vampires apart. “Etti,” he whispered. “We need their help.”
“That’s right,” the snide vampire replied. “And your anger is misdirected, shifter. We had nothing to do with your daughter’s kidnapping.”
“How stupid do you think we are?” Etti shot back. “We know you work for Cora. It was your vampires guarding the cemeteries for her.”
“Yes, and it was a job we eagerly took to block your coven from accessing the powerful ley lines after you accused us of leeching blood from your supplies.”
Grey pushed himself between his mate and the encroaching vampires. “That was a misunderstanding.”
The vampire laughed. “And how about the slaughtering of our vampires at the cemeteries today. Was that also a misunderstanding?”
Grey shook his head. “No, but you don’t understand our goal. We don’t want the ley lines for ourselves. We’re only trying to keep Cora from gaining access to them. Now that she has Izzi, it’s even more important that we keep her from tapping into the power source of the cemeteries.”
“Cora Laveau is cursed,” the vampire argued. “She can’t leave the bayou let alone access the magic buried in our cities of the dead.”
“But with Izzi she can,” Grey implored. “Our daughter is the FinMalédi.”
The vampires murmured at the mere mention of the legendary name. “The curse-breaker, yes, so we’ve heard,” one of them hissed. “But you have no proof to back such a claim. After all, a girl of such power should be able to save herself from the clutches of one old witch, should she not?”
“Izzi is just a child,” Grey answered, hotly. “And once Cora forces her to break the curse binding her to the bayou and keeping her from her ancestral magic, the supernatural world as we know it will be over.”
A low murmur rumbled through the courtyard as the vampires weighed Grey’s words. The wolves and witches had heard this speech before, it’s what convinced them to stand at Grey’s side. And though the truth of Izzi’s fate was only news to the Malveaux vampires, every face in the crowded courtyard was full of fear.
Grey didn’t like preying on fear, but if it would get him his daughter back, it’s exactly what he’d do.
He pressed on. “If Cora Laveau wins control of the French Quarter she’ll be unstoppable. The last time a Laveau witch controlled the ley lines in New Orleans her rein lasted centuries.
She’ll cut off witches from their ancestral magic, hunt vampires and shifters for sport, and basically annihilate any threat to her power. The only way to stop the extinction of all our races is to unite against her, now, before she’s given the chance to reduce us to nothing. And believe me, she will. She’s had years confined to the bayou to plot her revenge.”
Caleb, the Alpha of the Barataria bayou pack stepped forward. “Today I lost thirty good men and women from my pack. I sent them to protect Izzi and Etti and they were slaughtered under Cora’s orders with a wolf’s bane bomb. The mission’s failure and lives lost are my burdens to carry, but I know today was just a taste of what life under Cora’s rule will be like. And even though it was vampires who carried out the attack, I know Cora was behind it. I will not let my pack’s loss be in vain. For that reason, I’m willing to put our differences aside and forge an alliance against Cora for the greater good. The Barataria pack is with you, Grey.”
Zander Lupin stepped up. “Well said, Caleb. The Covington pack stands with you, as well, Grey.”
Many others followed suit, but the vampires still hesitated. “Do you have a plan to reclaim the curse-breaker?” one of them asked.
“We know Cora has our daughter, and she’s most likely in the bayou,” Grey explained. “Our plan is to hold the cemeteries while sending out search parties to the bayou to get Izzi back as soon as possible.”
“That’s it? You plan to just waltz into the bayou and take your daughter back?” the vampire mocked.
“Unless you know of a better way?” Grey challenged.
“I assume you’ve explored the possibility that this is all part of Cora’s plan? Luring us to the bayou where her spiders reside? It will make it easy to trap and defeat us,” the sarcastic vampire mocked.
“Like you do to innocent people every day?” Deana challenged, venom in her voice.
“Excuse me?” The beautiful female vampire stepped forward letting her hood fall back as she drew herself to her full height. There was an audible gasp in the crowd as everyone realized it was none other than Olivia Malveaux in their presence.
Apparently, Deana wasn’t intimidated by the legendary family’s matriarch though. She strode through the courtyard, shifters and witches parting to make her a path as she approached Olivia.
Grey could sense the change in the air as the electric tang of tension filled his lungs. He made a subtle move, ready to intercept Deana before she could do something stupid, but Etti’s steadying hand pulled him back.
Grey gave his mate a questioning glance.
“Wait,” Etti whispered, her eyes trained on Deana.
The petite witch was face-to-face with the ancient vampire now. Deana’s eyes flashed with hatred as she stood up to Olivia. “You are a coward,” Deana hissed. “You have no problem butchering innocent humans, but when push comes to shove you won’t even stand up to protect your so-called family.”
Olivia tilted her head in a feline-like manner. “I know you,” she purred.
“I should hope so after what your family took from me.”
Understanding washed Olivia’s pale complexion bone-white. “José Lefort,” she whispered. “You were his.”
The smallest tremor of shock widened Deana’s eyes before her rage took over. “That’s right! And your minions murdered him!” Deana raised her voice addressing the crowd. “The Malveaux’s murdered an innocent man. Is this really the kind of monsters we want to align with?”
Olivia’s hand shot out, clutching Deana’s arm. “It wasn’t one of my minions . . . I did the task myself.”
A revolting murmur tore through the courtyard at Olivia’s admission.
Deana’s voice was barely a whispered when she spoke. “What?”
“I swear I only wished to help him,” Olivia explained. “You see, he came to me seeking mercy. He told me the loss of his son was a burden he could no longer bear. He wanted the suffering to end.”
Olivia looked deeply saddened when she spoke again. “I recognized his pain, mon chéri. He told me he had no one . . . nothing left to live for. He never mentioned you, I swear it. I only wished to show him mercy.”
Deana stumbled back, her face ghostly pale. The courtyard was abruptly silent after Olivia’s confession and Grey could feel the ground he’d gained toward an alliance slipping. His heart hurt for Deana, but there would be time to comfort her later. Now, he had to be the Alpha, he had to focus on the things he could change, the people he could still save—Izzi.
Clearing his throat, Grey tried to get back on track. “There is much history here. I’m not suggesting we can sort out all the bad blood today, but the fact is if we sit here and do nothing, we’re admitting defeat and that’s something I cannot do.”
Olivia Malveaux spoke up. “I’m sorry, for your daughter’s burden, Mr. West, truly. But my family cannot take such risks based on the assumption that Cora Laveau will come after us.”
“It’s not an assumption,” Grey argued. “Cora seeks power. You have it and she’ll do anything to get it.”
Olivia shook her head. “We’ve been alive a very long time, Mr. West. We’ve learned to pick our battles and until this one is at our door I’m afraid we cannot get involved.” She turned to go, taking the other vampires with her.
The wolves and witches cleared a path for them, but Etti couldn’t let it go. “When Cora comes for you,” Etti shouted, “I hope you remember this moment and how your cowardice cost your people everything!”
Olivia paused, turning her sad, red eyes on them. “Some of us do not fear death, wolf.”
Etti
“WELL, THAT WENT WELL, ” Etti muttered. She was sitting on her kitchen table while Deana repaired a skin graft on her abdomen that had torn open during the meeting. It was Etti’s own fault. She’d let the vampires’ indifference get to her. Etti wanted nothing more than to rip into the merciless bastards as they
left the courtyard. Luckily, Grey had restrained her from shifting into her wolf and making matters worse.
Etti knew attacking the vampires wouldn’t help them get Izzi back, but it certainly would’ve helped her release some of her pentup frustration. She felt utterly helpless and her barely-healed injuries weren’t helping. At least she knew Deana understood. Etti couldn’t believe Olivia’s admission about José. Etti had only heard Deana speak of him briefly in the time they’d known each other, but it had been enough that Etti knew his death had left her with a deep scar upon her heart.
She studied her stoic friend as Deana continued to repatch her wounds. “Are you ever going to tell me about him?” Etti asked.
“About who?” Deana muttered.
Etti grabbed Deana’s healing hands. “José,” she said softly. Deana stiffened. “There’s nothing to say.”
“D, it’s me. You can talk to me. I’ll understand.” She met her friend’s gaze. “How come you never told me you lost a child?”
Deana pulled her hands from Etti’s and started working again. “One crisis at a time, Etti.”
“Deana . . .”
Deana swiftly stood, her eyes simmering with indignation. “I don’t want to talk about it, Etti. It’s in the past. Now please let me do my job.”
Etti nodded, letting Deana return to her ministrations. A few moments passed in a tense silence before Etti winced, hissing when Deana touched a tender spot.
“Stop moving,” Deana ordered as she wove her magic into Etti’s skin.
Grey looked on with worried eyes from his spot just outside the door. Deana had made him leave the room when she’d first started tending to Etti’s wounds, saying his worrying was distracting. It probably should’ve bothered Etti more—not having her mate by her side, but honestly it was a relief. She hated feeling this weak in front of Grey. It only proved his point—she needed to rest. But rest was the last thing Etti could manage, not when her daughter was being
held captive by the most vindictive witch in history. Or while Wes was missing.
Wes...Jesus...
Etti couldn’t imagine what he was going though. Her emotions were at war. She was still pissed at Wes for choosing to save her over Izzi, but Grey was right, the more time that passed the more she was starting to realize Wes might have made the right choice. Which only made her more upset. She’d been awful to him. The things she’d said . . . Then, to make matters worse, Wes had gotten a phone call about Cali.
Pain seared Etti’s chest just thinking about a world where Cali didn’t exist.
Etti still hadn’t really absorbed Cali’s death. And knowing that Wes was off somewhere alone trying to cope with the death of his mate was gutting Etti even worse than the wounds Deana was trying to heal.
Deana’s magic stretched and burned, making Etti grip the edge of the counter so hard it cracked. But slowly, her skin responded, fusing together in impossible ways.
Grey pushed off the doorframe to come to Etti’s aid, but she pulled away from his touch. She didn’t want to be coddled right now. The pain was the only thing keeping her mind from tumbling back down into the dark abyss that had almost claimed her life.
It was hard to believe it had only been hours since her brush with death in the mighty Mississippi. So much had changed. Izzi was missing. Cali was dead. Wes was broken. And she was . . . Etti didn’t know what she was. Alive didn’t seem to be accurate, though she knew she was. She sat living and breathing in her kitchen, yet there was a lingering darkness that she couldn’t seem to shake. She shivered at the sensation.
Sensing Etti’s need to be alone, Grey pulled back, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “You’re not the only one hurting, you know?”
“I know that,” she muttered. “But we need to do more. I can’t just sit here and do nothing while our daughter . . .” Etti trailed off as tears choked her words.
“Babe, I know. I’m doing everything I can. The meeting went as well as could be expected and—”
“Really? The vampires basically told us they could give a shit if our daughter dies and you think that went well?”
“That was our first attempt. I’ll keep working on them,” he replied. “We have time.”
“We don’t know that!” Etti shouted.
Deana stood up, sighing in exasperation. “Seriously? Do you not understand that I’m trying to keep your organs from spilling out of your stomach right now? Be still! And that includes your mouth, Etti!”
Etti glared at the bossy witch but kept her mouth shut.
Grey took the opportunity to get some uninterrupted words in. “Izzi still has time. She hasn’t come into her powers yet. Believe me, babe, I know this is hard. I want our daughter back as much as you do but you need to have a little faith. She’s a smart girl. She knows how to take care of herself. And right now we have the support of all the shifters and witches. Even if the vampires don’t come around, we can do this, with or without them. I just need you to believe in us, okay?”
Etti blinked away the tears and gave a feeble nod.
Grey squeezed Etti’s hand and kissed the back of it. “Now stay here while D patches you up.”
“Where are you going?”
“To find Wes.”
Etti nodded stiffly, grateful her mate knew her well enough to know her worry for Wes was weighing on her heart. She wouldn’t be right until she knew he was safe. Especially after the way she’d treated him.
Once Grey had left the room, Deana spoke. “He’s right, ya know?”
“About what?”
“That girl of yours is smart and strong. She’s got magic and wolf venom at her disposal so you gotta quit worrying. It’s not helping your health any. I didn’t put you back together so perfectly for
nothing. Magic can only heal you so far, you’re gonna have to do the rest.”
Etti pinned Deana with a glare. “About that, D. How is it you managed to put me together at all? Because I’m about ninety-nine percent certain that the all-consuming blackness you pulled me back from wasn’t meant to let go.”
Deana looked away. “I had a lot of help from the coven.”
“The coven?” Etti asked. “Or this?” She held her hand up to show off the silver ring still adorning her finger.
Deana feigned confusion. “What about it?”
“Cut the shit, D. You trained me far too well in witchcraft to pretend you don’t know this is a resurrection stone.”
“It’s just a ring,” Deana replied.
“No. It’s a moonstone ring.”
Deana said nothing.
“So,” Etti pushed, “are you gonna tell me how the hell you got it?”
“From a friend.”
Etti gave a low whistle. “Some friend. I know you’re aware how much these stones are worth.”
Deana gave a shrug.
“D,” Etti reached out for her friend’s hand. “Why’d you use this on me?”
Deana’s eyes flashed angrily as they met Etti’s. “Because you were dead, Etti! By the time Wes pulled you out of the river, you were already dead.”
Goose bumps raced down Etti’s limbs as that heavy darkness pressed in. Bone-deep fear gripped her again. So she wasn’t crazy. That blackness pulling her down had been more than the murky water of the Mississippi. It had been death. She shuddered as she remembered the endless expanse of blackness and how it had yawned beneath her, ready to swallow her whole, how she had floated through veils of other realms until there was nothing but darkness beckoning her. She should still be there now; in that black pit of death.
The warmth of Deana’s hand pulled Etti back.
“Promise me something,” Deana said fiercely. Etti met her friend’s dark eyes. “What?”
“The ring. Don’t ever take it off.”
Etti swallowed hard. “If I do, will I . . .”
“I don’t know,” Deana replied answering Etti’s unasked question. Etti timidly ran her finger over the smooth white stone of the ring. “How did you know it would work?”
“Because it worked once before.”
Etti’s eyebrows shot up. “On who?”
“The ring was Malcolm’s.”
Anger flashed through Etti like a heat wave. She wanted to tear the deceitful vampire’s ring from her finger, consequences be damned. It was his fault all of this was happening. If Malcolm hadn’t set Etti up, she wouldn’t have unknowingly broken her bargain with Cora. Then Izzi wouldn’t be missing, Wes wouldn’t be heartbroken, and Cali wouldn’t be dead.
“I know you’re pissed,” Deana said. “but I couldn’t let you die.”
“Maybe you should’ve.”
Deana grabbed Etti’s shoulders. “Will you stop being so selfish for one second? You have no idea what it was like when Wes fished you out of the water. He was broken, Etti. Fucking broken! And he’s just your friend. Imagine Grey. Imagine Izzi. Do you have any idea what losing you would’ve done to them? They need you, so that means you’re gonna have to keep that damn ring on until we know for sure that you won’t go right back to the place I ripped you from. Because you’re not dying on my watch, do you understand?”
Etti’s shoulders slumped. Deana was right. She was being selfish and she had no right to be. She knew exactly what it was like to hold her best friend’s lifeless body in her arms. She’d done it with Wes all those years ago when he tried to protect her from the hunt.
“I’m sorry,” Etti whispered. “I just don’t know what to do. Everything I say or do is wrong. I just want to crawl into Grey’s arms and cry, but how can I allow myself to feel comfort when Wes and Izzi are suffering?” Fat tears rolled down her cheeks and she gasped for breath. Now that the flood gates were open she couldn’t stop. “I know I need to be strong and have faith but I’m so terrified that I’ll
never see my daughter again. And Wes . . . there has to be a way we can get them back.”
Deana held Etti until her sobbing slowed. “There might be a way.”
Etti looked up. “What? How?”
She sighed. “Malcolm . . . I know how to get in touch with him.”
“You do?”
“He sent me the resurrection ring along with a note apologizing for using us. He also gave me a way to contact him if we needed his help.”
“When?”
“A while ago.”
Etti pulled away. “You’re still in touch with him?”
“God no! I hate him, but the fact remains that he might be able to help.”
“How?”
“Well, he’s the only one I know with the gift of premonitions and he owes us. It might be worth asking him to help us see if there’s a way to get Izzi and Wes back safely?”
Etti digested Deana’s words. “Do you trust him?”
“No. But we don’t have a lot of choices.”
Etti nodded. “You’re right. Contact him. I want to explore every possible option.”
Deana exhaled. “I will, but there’s something else I need to tell you first.”
“What is it?”
“It’s not going to be easy to hear, but I don’t want to lie to you, especially if Malcolm is coming back into our lives. God knows he’ll see it and find a way to make a mess of things.”
Etti took her friend’s hands. “D, just tell me.”
“When we were healing you, we found something.”
“What?”
Deana’s eyes bore into Etti’s, full of sadness. “You were pregnant. Not very far along. By the time we figured it out the baby was already gone. I’m so sorry, Etti. I know how hard you and Grey have been trying and I just . . . well, I thought you had the right to know.”
Shock seized Etti’s lungs. She struggled to remember how to do ordinary things. Breathing. Blinking. Speaking. It all seemed so trivial under the massive weight of her loss. Another child . . . Cora, had taken another child from Etti.
Etti’s rage coiled like steel around her bones, strengthening her. Her hatred for the cruel witch gave Etti something solid to hold onto. She let her wrath fuel her as she dried her eyes and sat up straighter. “Does Grey know?”
Deana shook her head.
“Good, let’s keep it that way.”
“Etti . . .”
“No!” Etti snapped. “Cora won’t take anything else from me, Deana. She’s taken one child. I will not give her a chance to take another. Telling Grey about this will only hurt him, and my family has been hurt enough. I need him strong so he can focus on getting Izzi back.”
Deana nodded. “I’ll talk to the other witches who helped me heal you, make sure they don’t say anything.”
“Make them swear,” Etti ordered. “I’ll tell Grey when the time is right. But for now I’m putting all my efforts into the saving the child I have left.”
Wes lumbered through the thick underbrush of the bayou. He’d left the marked trails of the Barataria Preserve far behind. Now he was plotting his own course through the swamp searching for any signs of Izzi and Cora. He’d already been to Cora’s creepy cottage. Deana had pointed it out to him on their last trip to the bayou. Of course it was abandoned now. That would’ve been too easy. And nothing in Wes’s life was easy—atleast notanymore.
He couldn’t help reflecting on the past as he charged through the swamp, blazing a path based solely on instinct. Wes wasn’t sure if he had any chance of ever finding Izzi, but if he died trying, that was at least something. Whatelsedidhehavetooffer?He had nothing left to live for. Not without Cali. She’d been the one good thing in his life. Andnowshewasgone.
That thought opened a hole so deep in Wes’s chest his steps faltered. He leaned up against a massive moss-draped cypress tree for support. But even the old tree looked weary gnarled and twisted,just like Wes’s heart. Suddenly, there weren’t enough trees in the world to hold Wes up. Not under the crushing weight of facing an existence without Cali.
Howhadthishappened?In one day, Wes had lost his mate and made a decision that cost him his best friend. It was too much. Everyone had a breaking point and this was his. It wasn’t that Wes
was weak, he’d couldn’t have survived his alcoholic mother and deadbeat father if that were the case. No, Wes was the opposite of weak. He’d emancipated himself at sixteen, gotten three jobs so he could afford his own place and took Etti in to protect her from her own terrible childhood. Wes was good at looking out for others. So good in fact that he almost missed it when someone finally came along to look out for him. Cali was that person.
From day one, Cali had been a source of joy in Wes’s life. At first she’d been a challenge because she’d wanted to be more than one of his typical one-night stands. She’d always wanted more from him. And when he finally gave in to her, it terrified him—for this very reason. Because Wes knew the moment he gave Cali his heart that he would never get it back. It was hers, forever. Buthowwas heto knowforeverwouldbesoshort?
Cali was gone and she’d taken his heart with her. Wes knew it was true the moment he’d heard Marc’s voice on the phone today. The sorrow in Marc’s voice sent Wes reaching for his mating bond, the one that connected him to Cali no matter where they were. But this time, Wes felt nothing on the other end, just an unrelenting silence.
What a cruel practice, to make one soul out of two. It was something the shifters never spoke of; how losing a mate would leave such devastation in its wake when one of them was gone. Now Wes understood why. The strange emptiness that met him in the moments after he realized his mate was dead had only continued to grow. It had started as a small tear, but now it felt like a gaping hole had opened in his chest—an unraveling of everything that made him who he was.
Wes pressed his hand to his heart just to make sure it was still beating. Sorrow met him with each frantic beat. Whyhadn’thebeen theone todie?It should be Cali’s heart beating right now. She was the better one. She was the one who cared for the children. The children!Jesus!Didtheyevenknowthey’dlosttheirmotheryet?
Shame squeezed Wes inside out. He’d failed his family. He’d left them to come here for Izzi. But he’d failed her too. He couldn’t face them. Any of them. His kids and even Izzi deserved better. Maybe
with him out of the way, things would get better. But first, he needed to make good on at least one promise. He needed to find Izzi.
Gathering his strength, Wes pushed on through the darkening swamp. He was so far into the thick of the bayou that even the last of the fading sunlight couldn’t penetrate that deep. As he battled through the resilient vegetation he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being herded in a certain direction by the giant spider webs he met at every turn. Normally, he would’ve gone around them, avoiding the hungry-looking black and yellow arachnids that watched his every move. But his self-preservation had died with Cali.
Wes snapped a branch from a fallen tree and slashed his way forward, straight through the spider webs. He had nothing to fear now. Even the threat of death couldn’t hold him back. A man with nothingtolosehasnothingtofear.
CALI
PAIN. Sounds. Glimpses. Touches. Ababycrying. Herbaby. Nothing.
The nothing stretched out for so long. Longer than any measurement of time. Then, a feeling, a shiver of something that didn’t belong burst through the nothingness. Her heart erupted with a longing overflowing with power, strength, hunger . . .
Cali felt the world tear apart then reform anew, the same, yet somehow different and still out of reach. Memories flickered back. A life before this—people waiting for her; children, friends, family, him . . . Wes. His pull was the strongest, a harpoon through her heart
refusing to let go. The shape of his love twisted around Cali’s soul demanding it return, forcing her heart to beat, pumping that intoxicating poison through her ravaged veins. Until all at once, her eyes snapped open, taking in a world she didn’t recognize. A world stained with blood.
When Cali opened her eyes she could hardly believe them. She lay on a cold, hard table surrounded by death. She was in a morgue! In one graceful movement she sat up, letting the white sheet that had been draped over her fall away. She was naked. Staring down at her flawless white skin, the flatness of her stomach caught her attention. Herbaby!
Without hesitation she swung off the table, nearly ripping the door off its hinges as she rushed from the morgue letting her keen sense of smell draw her toward the thing she desired most—her child.
She raced up two flights of stairs, bursting into the clinic’s softly lit lobby. When the receptionist saw her she dropped the phone. Cali realized the fact that she was naked probably shocked the woman, but she didn’t give a shit.
“My baby?” Cali growled.
But before the woman could reply a familiar face pushed through the double doors—Malcolm.
Hatred overpowered Cali’s every instinct and she flew at the traitorous vampire, slamming him straight through the wall. When she landed her teeth were already in his neck. But when she bit down, the putrid taste of rot made her recoil. She gagged on the black blood, unable to stop herself from vomiting.
Malcolm was back on his feet, holding his neck as he slowly moved toward her, his eyes wide. “I knew it,” he whispered. “I knew it would work!”
“What the fuck did you do to me?” Cali hissed. “And where’s my baby?”
Malcolm approached, hand outstretched. “Cali, let me explain.”
She slammed him back against the wall. “You have two seconds.”
“Yer baby is perfectly safe. She’s with Brooke and Marc,” Malcolm said softly. “And the reason ye just vomited is because vampires
can’t feed on their own kind.”
Cali stilled. “What?”
Malcolm lowered his head. “I’m sorry, lass. T’was the only way,” he said quietly.
“So, I’m . . . dead?”
“Technically, undead . . . but, um, yes. Ye were dying by the time I found ye. I delivered yer wee babe then fed ye my blood. In my vision it was enough to bring ye back, but something changed.”
“What changed?”
“I dunno. Perhaps I took too long, perhaps I was being tested . . . ”
“Malcolm, I don’t have time for your riddles. I need to know what the hell happened.”
“I brought ye back, Cali. Does the how really matter?”
“To me, it does.”
Malcolm exhaled unnecessarily. “I used a resurrection spell tied to my blood to bring you back. It was the spell I sold Etti out for. The one I was going to use on my fiancée.”
Cali blinked at him in disbelief. “Malcolm . . .”
“Don’t worry, I’d already decided against following through with my selfish wishes. Besides, it seemed more important to bring you back since it’s basically my fault the hunt found ye.”
Cali narrowed her eyes. “How’s that?”
“Look, the fact is Cora made me betray everyone who might possibly give a shite about me for a spell that would never give me what I truly wanted. I figure bringing ye back with it was the least I could do. I’m sorry it had to be like this. Ye certainly gave us a scare. Marc was . . . Oh, shite!”
“What?”
“Everyone still thinks yer dead, lass.”
Cali felt her temper spike. “Everyone?”
Malcolm grabbed her hand. “Come on, we need to find Marc before he calls yer brute of a husband.”
Cali followed the vampire from the exam room they’d trashed. They raced down the hall until Malcolm suddenly skidded to a stop. “Wait here.”
“Where are you going?”
“To get some blood bags.”
Cali’s hands were around his throat again. “My husband thinks I’m dead and you want to stop for a snack?”
“It’s not for me, Cali. Ye need to feed.”
“Later,” she hissed.
“No, now,” Malcolm snarled back. “Unless of course ye prefer to eat yer friends and infant daughter?”
Cali felt her undead heart flutter with life. “Daughter? It’s a girl.”
“Aye. Now stay here so I can get ye some blood and perhaps some clothes so ye don’t terrify Marc and Brooke when ye meet yer daughter. Then we can get this mess sorted.”
CALI GLANCED in the bathroom mirror to be sure she had no remaining blood on her face. She’d drained the three blood bags Malcolm had given her like she was a sorority girl on spring break. Thankfully, Malcolm didn’t seem to judge her. He simply handed her a towel and a hospital gown, then waited outside the bathroom door.
Now, with her face washed, fresh clothes and her shoulderlength blonde hair pulled back, Cali felt almost normal—minus the fact that she no longer had a heartbeat or a reason to breathe. But those weren’t the only differences. Cali studied her reflection. Her senses were more keen and her features seemed sharper, her skin more pale and flawless than before. But the biggest changes was her eyes. Once the color of glacier water, Cali’s ice-chip blue eyes now resembled glowing embers. Malcolm assured her feeding would dull the red hue, but so far, there hadn’t been a change to the demonic glow of her irises.
Cali blinked rapidly, wondering what her children would say when they saw her. Would they be frightened? Would Wes? For a split second she felt fear slither down her spine at the thought of not being able to be around her family. But just as quickly she squashed
the notion. She had come back from the dead. There was nothing she couldn’t conquer.
Squaring her shoulders, Cali let that idea fuel her confidence. It wastimetomeetherdaughterandgetherfamilyback.
“What are we going to do?” Brooke asked cradling the crying baby in her arms. They’d been trying to feed her a bottle for the past hour but she wasn’t having it.
“We’re going to keep trying,” Marc replied, calmly.
Shame over Cali’s death filled him like an overflowing well, but he refused to let it make him weak. Wes had asked Marc to take care of his family. He wouldn’t fail again; starting with this baby.
Marc carefully took the crying baby from Brooke’s arms and gently rocked her, trying to get her to settle. He made soft, reassuring sounds as he kissed her soft hair. “It’s gonna be okay, angel. It’s gonna be okay.”
He whispered the lie over and over, wondering if it was more for himself or the baby. Either way, it seemed she could detect the lie because her crying didn’t stop.
“It’s not right,” Brooke muttered, tears streamed down her face. “She didn’t even get to meet her mother. I mean she doesn’t even have a name.”
“Her name is Violet.”
Marc turned at the sound of the impossible voice. He knew it couldn’t be true, yet there she stood, dressed in a blue hospital gown with unnaturally red eyes—Cali.
Brooke moved defensively in front of Marc and the baby.
Marc glared at Malcolm as the vampire filed into the room behind Cali.
“What the hell have you done to her?” Marc muttered. Malcolm smiled. “Exactly what I predicted.”
“You said only one would live!” Brooke hissed.
“Aye, and I spoke the truth. Vampires aren’t technically living, now are they?”
Cali ignored Malcolm, her eyes focused on the infant in Marc’s arms. “I’d like to hold my daughter,” she said firmly.
Marc backed up a step. “Cali, do you really think that’s such a good idea given your condition?”
“She’s fed,” Malcolm interjected. “It should be safe.”
“Shouldbesafe?” Brooke challenged.
Malcolm shrugged. “Depends on her self-control, I s’ppose.”
“I’m fine,” Cali murmured, her voice like iron.
Marc backed further away from her, the infant wailing in his arms. “Cali, I promised Wes I would protect his family. I never thought it would be from you but . . .” He swallowed hard as Cali moved hungrily toward him. “Please don’t make me do anything I don’t want to, Cali.”
Cali’s features sharpened in a feral way. “Marc, give me my baby.” He shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. You’re a vampire now and she’s . . . she’s prey.”
Cali’s red eyes narrowed. “I would never hurt my own child. I may be a monster, but I’m a mother first.” And with that she lunged, snatching the baby from Marc’s arms.
CALI
THE MOMENT her daughter was in her arms, the baby stopped crying. Everyone in the room froze, watching them interact, but Cali barely noticed. She only had eyes for her beautiful baby girl. She looked
just like Wes. Dark hair and eyes, but with Cali’s pale skin. She was stunning.
Cali leaned in, breathing in her infant’s intoxicating scent. She felt something stir inside her as her emotions swelled—a faint flutter and tightening in her chest. Cali inhaled again, then again. Soon it became a natural rhythm. She sat down cradling Violet close and unsnapped the top of her gown, settling the baby at her breast.
Malcolm began to object but when Violet latched on and began to nurse, his mouth dropped open. “Are ye really doing that?”
“If it offends you, you can leave,” Cali snapped.
“No-no, it’s not that,” Malcolm stammered. “But vampires can’t feed their young. They can’t even have young.”
Brooke spoke up. “What Malcolm is trying to say is that you’re undead, Cali. It shouldn’t be possible for you to nurse a baby.”
Cali looked up, suddenly feeling the impact of their words. They were right. But so was the feeling coursing through her right now. She’d felt it before when nursing her other children. The pure blissful comfort of nature taking over to provide exactly what her baby needed.
Marc took a step closer, his eyes wide. He tilted an ear toward Cali. “I don’t understand. I can’t hear your heartbeat but I can scent your life force.”
Malcolm shook his head. “Not possible, mate. She’s a vampire. I saw her fangs with my own eyes when she tried to rip my throat out.”
Brooke sniffed the air and spoke up. “No, Marc’s right. Shifters have an acute sense of smell. We can scent death up to five miles away. Your stench was masking it, Malcolm, but now that Marc mentioned it, I can scent Cali too. Her wolf still lives.”
Cali blinked up at the room full of astonished faces. “Is that possible?”
“I’ve never heard of a wolf-vampire hybrid,” Brooke replied. “But surely it must be possible.”
“Stranger things have,” Malcolm replied. “I’ve retained some of my magic even though I’m now a vampire. Maybe Cali has retained some of her wolf.”
“Can you shift?” Marc asked.
“I don’t know. I guess I could try,” Cali replied, handing her satisfied daughter to Marc.
“Cali, you should let yourself rest,” Brooke warned.
“I’m dead, Brooke. I don’t need to rest. What I need is to get my family back.”
No one argued.
“Now back up and give me room,” Cali commanded.
Marc
MARC PASSED the baby to Brooke, putting himself between Cali and his mate. Malcolm flanked him. They all stood in silence as they watched Cali standing motionless in the opposite corner. A charged stillness stretched out between them as they waited. At first Marc feared he’d been wrong. He was so new to being a shifter; maybe his senses were off. But Brooke had scented Cali’s wolf too, although maybe it was just a lingering scent that would fade as her death settled.
Regret began to fill Marc as he worried he’d given Cali false hope. Then all at once, she shifted. The petite blonde woman he called his friend was instantly replaced by a wheat-blonde wolf with eyes as red as blood. The wolf flexed its claws and growled. Marc immediately felt Cali’s domineering resolve as he stared into her unnerving red eyes. Then, just like that, she was in her human form again. She stood up, tall and proud despite being naked.
Malcolm rushed forward with another hospital gown. “Feck me. Ye did it, lass. Yer a vampire-shifter.”
But Cali was barely listening. Her eyes were focused back on Violet. Brooke handed the baby over and Cali seemed to relax once her daughter was back in her arms.
“Now what?” Malcolm asked.
“You’re the one with the visions,” Marc snapped.
Cali glanced up. “Now one of you need to get my husband on the phone and tell him we’re coming to New Orleans to end this once and for all.”
Marc and Brooke exchanged looks before Marc spoke. “About Wes . . .”
Another random document with no related content on Scribd:
language most requisite to be known for every traveller in these extensive regions.
The Mandinga is spoken from the banks of the Senegal, where that river takes a northerly course from the Jibel Kumera to the kingdom of Bambarra; the Wangareen tongue is a different one; and the Houssonians speak a language differing again from that.
Specimen of the difference between the Arabic and Mandinga language; the words of the latter extracted from the vocabularies of Seedi Mohammed ben Amer Soudani.
ENGLISH
MANDINGA ARABIC
One Kalen Wahud
Two Fula Thanine
Three Seba Thalata
Four Nani Arba
Five Lulu Kumsa
Six Uruh Setta
Seven Urn’klu Sebba
Eight Säae Timinia
Nine Kanuntée Taseud
Ten Dan Ashra
Eleven Dan kalen Ahud ash
Twelve Dan fula Atenashe
Thirteen Dan seba Teltashe
Nineteen Dan kanartée Tasatash
Twenty Mulu Ashreen
Thirty Mulu nintau Thalateen
Forty Mulu fula Arbä’in
Fifty Mulu fula neentan Kumseen
Sixty Mulu sebaa Setteen
Seventy Mulu sebaa nintan Sebä’in
Eighty Mulu nani T’ammana’een
Ninety Mulu nani neentaan Tasa’een
One hundred Kemi Mia
One thousand Uli Elf
ENGLISH MANDINGA ARABIC
This Neen Hadda
That Waleem Hadduk
Great Bawa Kabeer
Little Nadeen Sereer
Handsome Nimawa Zin
Ugly Nuta Uksheen (k guttural)
White Kie Bead
Black Feen Abeed, or khal
Red Williamma Hummer
How do you do?
Nimbana mountania Kif-enta
Well Kantée Ala khere
Not well Moon kanti Murrede
What do you want Ala feeta matume Ash-bright
Sit down Siduma Jils
Get up Ounilee Node
Sour Akkumula Hamd
Sweet Timiata Helluh
True Aituliala Hack
False Funiala Kadube
Good Abatee Miliah
Bad Minbatee Kubiah
A witch Bua Sahar
A lion Jatta Sebaâ
An elephant Samma El fele
A hyæna Salua Dubbah
A wild boar Siwa El kunjer
A water horse Mali Aoud d’Elma
A horse Suhuwa Aoud
A camel Kumaniun Jimmel
A dog Wallee Killeb
Hel el Killeb or the dogfaced race Hel Wallee
Hel El Killeb
A gazel Tankeen Gazel (g guttural)
ENGLISH MANDINGA ARABIC
A cat Niankune
El mish
A goat Baâ El mâize
A sheep Kurenale Kibsh
A bull Nisakia
Toôr
A serpent Saâ Hensh
A camelion Mineer Tatta
An ape Ku’nee Dzatute
A fowl or chicken Susee Djez
A duck Beruee El Weese
A fish Hihu El hout
Butter Tulu Zibda
Milk Nunn El hellib
Bread Mengu El khubs (k guttural)
Corn Nieu Zra
Wine Tangee Kummer (k guttural)
Honey Alee Asel
Sugar Tobabualee Sukar
Salt Kuee Mil’h
Ambergris Anber Anber
Brass Tass Tass
Silver Kudee Nukra
Gold-dust Teber Tiber
Pewter Tass ki Kusdeer
A bow Kula El kos
An arrow Binia Zerag
A knife Muru Jenui
A spoon Kulia Mogerfa
A bed El arun El ferrashe
A lamp
El kundeel
El kundeel
A house Su Ed dar
A room Bune El beet
A light-hole or window Jinnee Reehâha
A door Daa Beb
A town Kinda Midina
ENGLISH MANDINGA ARABIC
Smoke Sezee Tkan (k guttural)
Heat Kandia Skanna (k guttural)
Cold Nini Berd
Sea Bedu baba Bahar
River Bedu Wed
A rock Berri Jerf
Sand Kinnikanni Rummel
The earth Binku Dunia
Mountain Kuanku Jibbel
Island Juchüi Dzeera
Rain Sanjukalaeen Shta
God Allah Allah
Father Fa Ba
Mother Ba Ma
Hell Jahennum Jehennume
A man Kia Rajil
A woman Musa Murrah
A sister Bum musa Kat (k guttural)
A brother Bum kia
Ka
The devil Buhau Iblis
A white man Tebabu Rajil biad
A singer Jalikea Runai (r guttural)
A singing woman Jalimusa Runaiah (r guttural)
A slave June Abeed
A servant Bettela Mutalem
Having now given some account of the languages of Africa, we shall proceed to animadvert on the similitude of language and customs between the Shelluhs of Atlas and the original inhabitants of the Canary Islands. The words between inverted commas are quotations from Glasse’s History of the Discovery and Conquest of the Canary Islands.
“The inhabitants of Lancerotta and Fuertaventura are social and cheerful;” like the Shelluhs of Atlas; “they are fond of singing and dancing; their music is vocal, accompanied with a clapping of hands, and beating with their feet:” the Shelluhs resemble them in all these respects; “Their houses are built of stone,
without cement; the entrance is narrow, so that but one person can enter at a time.”
The houses of the Shelluhs are sometimes built without cement, but always with stone; the doors and entrances are low and small, so that one person only can enter.
“In their temples they offered to their God milk and butter.”
Among the Shelluhs milk and butter are given as presents to princes and great men: the milk being an emblem of good will and candour.
“When they were sick (which seldom happened) they cured themselves with the herbs which grew in the country; and when they had acute pains, they scarified the part affected with sharp stones, and burned it with fire, and then anointed it with goat’s butter. Earthen vessels of this goat’s butter were found interred in the ground, having been put there by the women who were the makers, and took that method of preparing it for medicine.”
The custom of the Shelluhs on similar occasions is exactly similar; the butter which they use is old, and is buried under ground many years in (bukul) earthen pots, and is called budra: it is a general medicine, and is said to possess a remarkably penetrating quality.
“They grind their barley in a hand-mill, made of two stones, being similar to those used in some remote parts of Europe.”
In Suse, among the Shelluhs, they grind their corn in the same way, and barley is the principle food.
“Their breeches are short, leaving the knees bare;” so are those worn by the Shelluhs.
“Their common food was barley meal roasted and mixed with goats milk and butter, and this dish they called Asamotan.”
This is the common food of the Shelluhs of Atlas, and they call it by a similar name, Azamitta.
The opinion of the author of the History and Conquest of the Canary Islands, is, that the inhabitants came originally from Mauritania, and this he founds on the resemblance of names of places in Africa and in the islands: for, says he, “Telde,[177] which is the name of the oldest habitation in Canaria, Orotaba, and Tegesta, are all names which we find given to places in Mauritania and in Mount Atlas. It is to be supposed that Canaria, Fuertaventura, and Lancerotta, were peopled by the Alarbes,[178] who are the nation most esteemed in Barbary; for the natives of those islands named milk
Aho, and barley Temecin, which are the names that are given to those things in the language of the Alarbes of Barbary.” He adds, that
“Among the books of a library that was in the cathedral of St. Anna in Canaria, there was found one so disfigured, that it wanted both the beginning and the end: it treated of the Romans, and gave an account, that when Africa was a Roman province, the natives of Mauritania rebelled and killed their presidents and governors, upon which the senate, resolving to punish and make a severe example of the rebels, sent a powerful army into Mauritania, which vanquished and reduced them again to obedience. Soon after the ringleaders of the rebellion were put to death, and the tongues of the common people, together with those of their wives and children, were cut out, and then they were all put aboard vessels with some grain and cattle, and transported to the Canary islands.”[179]
The following vocabulary will shew the similarity of language between the natives of Canaria and the Shelluhs (inhabitants of the Atlas mountains south of Marocco).
LANCEROTTA AND FUERTAVENTURA DIALECT.
Temasin
SHELLUH OR LYBIAN TONGUE
Tumzeen Barley
Tezzezes Tezezreat Sticks
Taginaste
ENGLISH
Taginast A palm-tree
Tahuyan Tahuyat
A blanket, covering or petticoat
Ahemon Amen Water
Faycag
Acoran
Almogaren
Tamoyanteen
Tawacen
Archormase
Azamotan
Tigot
Tigotan
Thener
Faquair Priest or lawyer
M’koorn God
Talmogaren Temples
Tigameen Houses
Tamouren Hogs
Akermuse Green figs
Azamittan Barley meal fried in oil
Tigot Heaven
Tigotan The Heavens
Athraar A mountain
Adeyhaman Douwaman A hollow valley
LANCEROTTA AND FUERTAVENTURA DIALECT.
SHELLUH OR LYBIAN TONGUE ENGLISH
Ahico Tahayk
Kabehiera Kabeera
A hayk or coarse garment
A head man or a powerful Ahoren Barley meal roasted
Ara A goat
Ana A sheep Tagarer — A place of justice
Benehoare, the name of the natives of Palma.
Beni Hoarie, a tribe of Arabs in Suse between Agadeer and Terodant.[180]
FOOTNOTES:
[167]This Kohtan is the Yoctan, son of Eber, brother to Phaleg, mentioned in Genesis Chapter 10, verse 25
[168]The African Jews find it very difficult in speaking, to distinguish between shim and sim, for they cannot pronounce the sh, (ش) but sound it like s (س); the very few who have studied the art of reading the language, have, however, conquered this difficulty.
[169]Mr Hugh Cahill
[170]When they write to any other but Mohammedans, they never salute them with the words “Peace be with thee,” but substitute “Peace be to those who follow the path of the true God,” Salem ala min itaba el Uda.
[171]“One of the objects I had in view in coming to Europe was to instruct young Englishmen in the Persian language. I however met with so little encouragement from persons in authority, that I entirely relinquished the plan I instructed however (as I could not refuse the recommendations that were brought to me) an amiable young man, Mr. S n, and thanks be to God, my efforts were crowned with success! and that he, having escaped the instructions of self-taught masters, has acquired such a knowledge of the principles of that language, and so correct an idea of its idiom and pronunciation, that I have no doubt after a few years residence in India he will attain to such a degree of excellence, as has not yet been acquired by any other Englishman ” Vide Travels of Mirza Abu Taleb Khan, vol. i. p. 200.
[172]Killem Abimalick signifies the Language of Abimalick
[173]In reading Mr. William Marsden’s observations on the language of Siwah, at the end of Horneman’s Journal, in page 190, I perceive that the
short vocabulary inserted corresponds with a vocabulary of the Shelluh language, which I presented to that gentleman some years past.
[174]Plural Iddrarn
[175]Or, Is derk ayeese?
[176]This is applied to bread when baked in a pan, or over the embers of charcoal, or other fire; but when baked in an oven it is called Agarom (g guttural )
[177]Telde or Tildie is a place in the Atlas mountains, three miles east of Agadeer; the castle is in ruins
[178]The Alarbes, this is the name that the inhabitants of Lower Suse and Sahara have, El Arab or Arabs
[179]One Thomas Nicols, who lived seven years in the Canary Islands, and wrote a history of them, says that the best account he could get of the origin of the natives, was that they were exiles from Africa, banished thence by the Romans, who cut out their tongues for blaspheming their gods
[180]For further particulars see Glasse’s History of the Canary Islands, 4to page 174
CHAPTER XI.
General Commerce of Marocco Annual Exports and Imports of the Port of Mogodor Importance and Advantages of a Trade with the Empire of Marocco Cause of its Decline. Present State of our Relations with the Barbary Powers.
T
city of Marocco, besides its trade with the various districts of the interior, receives the most considerable supplies of European merchandize from the port of Mogodor, which is distant from it four days journey, caravan travelling; [181] some of the more valuable articles, however, are transported from Fas to the Marocco market, such as muslins, cambricks, spices, teas, pearls, coral, &c. and the elegant Fas manufactures of silk and gold. There is a considerable market held at Marocco every Thursday, called by the Arabs Soke-el-kumise,[182] which all articles of foreign as well as home manufacture are bought and sold, also horses,[183] horned cattle, slaves, &c. Samples of all kinds of merchandize are carried up and down the market and streets of the city by the Delels, or itinerant auctioneers, who proclaim the price offered, and when no one offers more, the best bidder is apprised of his purchase, the money is paid, and the transaction terminated.
The shops of Marocco are filled with merchandize of various kinds, many of which are supplied by the merchants of Mogodor, who receive, in return for European goods, the various articles of the produce of Barbary for the European markets. The credit which was given by the principal commercial houses of Mogodor to the natives has of late considerably decreased owing to the change of system in the government; for, in the reign of the present Emperor’s father, the European merchants were much respected, and their books considered as correct, so that a book debt was seldom disputed, and every encouragement was given to commerce by that Emperor; but Muley Soliman’s political principles differ so widely from those of his father, that the most trifling transaction should now be confirmed by law, to enable the European to be on equal terms with the Moor, and to entitle him to recover any property, or credit given; these measures have thrown various impediments in the way of commerce, insomuch that credit is either almost annihilated, or transformed into barter, which has necessarily thrown the trade into fewer hands, and consequently curtailed it in a great degree. For the purpose of showing at once the traffic carried on in the port of Mogodor, I shall here give an accurate account of its exports and imports during the years 1804, 1805, and the first six months of 1806, which are carefully extracted from the imperial custom-house books.
IMPORTS INTO MOGODOR IN 1804.
From London, 661 pieces, of from 40 to 50 yards each piece.
210 pieces, scarlet or media grana, from 40 to 50 yards each piece.
150 pieces, plunkets, about 40 yards each piece.
Superfine Cloths. From London 50pieces.
Leghorn 12
Other parts — 62 pieces.
Long Ells. From London 640pieces, coloured.
30 scarlet 60 embossed.
Leghorn 300 coloured.
Druggets. From London 40pieces,
Red Cloth. From Amsterdam 17pieces.
LINENS
Creas. From London 902pieces.
Amsterdam 765
Leghorn 60 1115 pieces.
Plattilias. From London 1047pieces.
Amsterdam 4708
Leghorn 650 6405 pieces.
Brettagnias. From London 500pair.
Amsterdam 400 900 pair.
Cambricks. From London 20pair.
Muslins. From London 21
Amsterdam 20 41 pieces.
Indian Blue Linens. From London 749pieces.
Amsterdam 30 779 pieces.
Striped India Silk. From London 40pieces.
Silk Velvets. From London 131cubits.[184]
Leghorn 250 381 cubits.
Damask. — From Leghorn 456cubits.
Amsterdam 150 606 cubits.
Raw Silk. From London 1150lb.
Leghorn 1200
Lisbon 560 2910 lb.
Allum. From London 95524lb.
Copperas. — From London 91061lb.
Sugar in loaves. From London 36966
Amsterdam 9653
Lisbon 9600 56219 lb.
Raw Sugar. From London 7100
Lisbon 2100 9200 lb.
Iron. From London 8871bars.
Amsterdam 1415
Leghorn 375 10661 bars, 522700 lb.
Gum Benzoin. From London 14239lb.
Gum Lac. 51800lb.
Hardware. From London 19cases.
Amsterdam 4barrels
Gum Tragacant. — From London 1058
Amsterdam 370 1428 lb.
Pepper. From London 9231lb.
Cloves. — From London 6444
Amsterdam 1056 7504 lb.
Nutmegs. From London 712lb.
Rhubarb. From London 246lb.
Green Tea. — From London 1310
Amsterdam 200 1510 lb.
Wrought Pewter. From London 5
Amsterdam 7 12 casks
Tin Plates. From London 60 cases, 13875 pieces.
White Lead. From London 2530lb.
Copper in sheets. From Amsterdam 1035lb.
Thread. — From Leghorn 800
Amsterdam 200 1000 lb.
Mirrors, called in Holland Velt Spiegels. From Amsterdam 7250dozen. Leghorn 350
Mirrors of various sizes. From Amsterdam 1750pieces.
Earthen Ware. From Amsterdam 70cases. London 16crates.
Wool Cards. From Amsterdam 210dozen.
Dutch Knives. From Amsterdam 13738dozen.
Brass Pans. From Amsterdam 550lb.
Osnaburg Linen. Amsterdam 180pieces.
From
Irish Linen. From London 170pieces. Leghorn 150 320 pieces.
Lanthorns. — From London 100dozen.
Glass. From London 5cases.
Red Lead. From London 1853lb.
Calamine. From London 2100lb.
Argol. From London 3cases.
Paper — From Leghorn 27bales.
Cotton. From Leghorn 2400lb.
Tin in bars. From London 6000lb.
Espique Romano. From Leghorn 3850
Amsterdam 3000 6850 lb.
Coral Beads. From Leghorn 50lb.
Amber Beads. From Leghorn 150
Amsterdam 100 250 lb.
Sal Ammoniac. From London 1200lb.
Chaplets. Leghorn 7barrels.
From
Gold Lace. From Amsterdam 10lb.
Looking Glasses, called bulls’ eyes. From Leghorn 4barrels.
Silk Handkerchiefs. From London 100
Amsterdam 10 Leghorn 100 210 dozen.
Glasses. From Amsterdam 20 Leghorn 1 21 cases.
Corrosive Sublimate. From Amsterdam 50
Leghorn 50 100 lb.
Venetian Steel. — From Leghorn 2500lb.
Hebrew Books. Leghorn 10cases.
Romals. From London 286pieces. Baftas. From London 821pieces. Lisbon 350 Rouans. From Amsterdam 505pieces.
China. From London 330dozen cups and saucers.
Amsterdam 30dozen ditto.
Cochineal. From London 375
Cadiz 700
Lisbon 230 1305 lb.
Wire. From Amsterdam 5000mass.
Copper Tea Kettles. — From Amsterdam 119
Brazil Wood. From Lisbon 600lb.
Iron Nails. From London 11573
Amsterdam 1000
Leghorn 1000 13573 lb.
Deals. From Amsterdam 1886pieces.
Empty Cases. From Amsterdam 900cases.
Sealing Wax. From Amsterdam 20lb.
Coffee Mills. — From Amsterdam 20
Buenos Ayres Hides. From London 350
Cadiz 300 650 hides.
Mexico Dollars. From London 18000
Cadiz 47000
Lisbon 16000
Teneriffe 10000
Amsterdam 8000 99000
Total value of Imports in 1804, £151450.
EXPORTS FROM MOGODOR IN 1804.
Sweet Almonds. — To London 6853
Amsterdam 231638
Leghorn 4505
Lisbon 15524
Cadiz 61041
Teneriffe 2356 321917 lb.
Bitter Almonds. — To London 233019lb.
Amsterdam 126607
Leghorn 2980 362606 lb.
Gum Barbary — To London 99417
Amsterdam 213540
Leghorn 10254
Lisbon 2583
Marseilles 9642 335436 lb.
Gum Soudan or Senegal, from Timbuctoo, by the caravans. ToLondon 36416lb.
Amsterdam 59021lb.
Marseilles 519 95956 lb
Gum Sandrac. — To London 16995
Amsterdam 9056
Leghorn 3314
Lisbon 2869 32234 lb.
Bees Wax. — To London 1957
Leghorn 52616
Lisbon 11595
Marseilles 30022
Cadiz 93791
Teneriffe 4878
194859 lb.
Goat Skins. — To London 12726dozen.
Oil of Olives. — To London 5850lb.
Amsterdam 30757
Lisbon 14729
Teneriffe 5900
57236 lb.
Cow and Calf Skins. — To London 64376
Leghorn 41611
Marseilles 14496 120483 lb.
Sheeps Wool. — To Amsterdam 62972
Marseilles 29624
Teneriffe 5300
97896 lb.
Ostrich Feathers. — To London 555lb.
Elephants Teeth. — To Amsterdam 800lb.
Pomegranate Peels. — To London 2184
Amsterdam 44097 46281 lb.
Dates, of the quality called Adamoh, from Tafilelt. ToLondon 1129
Lisbon 1305
243 lb.
Raisins. — To London 200lb.
Worm Seed. — To London 465 Lisbon 2468 2933 lb.
Rose leaves. — To Amsterdam 138lb.
Wild Thyme (Zater). — To Amsterdam 2860 Lisbon 1714 4574 lb.
Glue. — To Amsterdam 84lb.
Anice-seeds. — To London 200 Amsterdam 4650 Lisbon 829 5679 lb.
Fennel. — To Amsterdam 856lb.
Gingelin Seed. — To London 460 Amsterdam 2044 2504 lb.
Walnuts. — To Lisbon 240lb.
Straw. — To Lisbon 24bales.
Tallow — To Teneriffe 1465lb.
Tallow Candles. — To Teneriffe 350lb.
String. — To Teneriffe 2852lb.
Total value of Exports from Mogodor in 1804, in Europe, after paying freight, European duties, &c. £127679. sterling.
IMPORTS INTO MOGODOR IN 1805.
WOOLLEN CLOTHS
Yorkshire Cloths.
From London, Scarlet 300 demi-pieces from 20 to 25 yards each. Alto of various colours 970 demi-pieces from ditto to
ditto.
Tier blue, or plunkets 80ditto. Superfine cloths 62ditto. Long Ells 900ditto. Embossed Purpetts 85ditto.
German Cloths. — From Leghorn and Amsterdam 22 pieces.
Nankeens. — From Lisbon 1000pieces.
LINENS
Plattilias. — From London 1300 Amsterdam 6050 Leghorn 1395 8745 pieces.
Creas. — From London 600 Amsterdam 788 Leghorn 550 1938 pieces.
Rouans. — From Amsterdam 618
Brettagnias. — From London 625 Amsterdam 1000 1625 pieces.
Baftas. — From London 1600pieces.
Romals. — From London 1010 Leghorn 300 1310 pieces.
Muslins. — From London 70pieces.
Blue Linens. — From Amsterdam 117pieces.
Gum Benjamin or Benzoin. — From London 19237lb.
Stick-lack. — From London 18546 Amsterdam 7959