The Deer Woman

Chapter 1
Fur

"Extra! Extra! Read all about it!" the newsboy shouted out into the crowd. "New Orleans Silencer claims victim number nine on Bourbon Street. Read all about it!"

Two men, one auburn haired man with a deep brown hat covering his crown, and the other dark haired, more serious-looking in a beige coat, walked past the young boy pushing his giant stack of Muggle newspapers. As they walked past, the auburn-haired one, a man named Benjamin Leroq, tossed the boy a large, silver coin and then snatched the paper the boy had been waving around in his hand.

"Benjamin, that was a dollar!" his dark haired friend, Caddock Beckett, told him. "Two Sickles!"

Benjamin Leroq cringed when he heard the converted amount. But when he turned around, he saw the look of pure ecstasy on the newsboy's face and could hardly take it back from him now. "Buy your mother something nice," he shouted at the boy while still continuing on his way down the stone streets.

Caddock Beckett shook his head, but decided not to allow it to bother him. He and Benjamin only had two more days before they would have to report back to London, and he had no intention of wasting any of that time on petty arguments.

There was no shortage of foreigners in the southern American city, but Caddock and Benjamin were far from being just faces in the crowd. The two men were wizards, Aurors with the British Ministry of Magic. And their journey to the United States had hardly started out as one of pleasure. It could all be blamed on Pierre Rouge, a French wizard who had been residing in Britain for the past ten years.

A French wizard who also had a certain affinity for the Dark Art of mind control, his favored tool of puppet-mastery being young children. He would find a small child wandering the street, place them under the Imperius Curse, and then, in most cases just for fun, see how many Muggles he could make them kill in the course of one evening. The British Ministry almost had him, but at the last moment, he was able to evade capture by use of a Portkey which took him to New Orleans, where the heavy French population would hardly make him stand out.

Though he thought he could evade capture that easily, he was sorely mistaken. The Office of Aurors, having been working this case for far too long to just let him vanish into the wind, sent Aurors Benjamin Leroq and Caddock Beckett after him, following so closely that they were nearly treading on his heels.

But luckily for them, this particular Dark wizard had a very ingrained fear of law enforcement. So the moment he was caught, he made a full confession, and even put it in writing. As far as both the British and American Ministries were concerned, the case was closed. And as a so-called reward, the Office of Aurors allowed the two men to spend the rest of their arranged time in America on a sort of paid vacation. A vacation that, as far as Caddock Beckett was concerned, they could take or leave.

New Orleans was, if anything, loud, in color, sound, and people. Building fronts, as well as their signs, were painted disgustingly bright colors that one would normally only see on an unmixed painter's pallet, while the air was thick, dripping with the smells of street litter, Cajon seasonings, and the seaport surrounding the city.

And the city in general just seemed so much louder that anywhere else Caddock had been in his career. There were the ordinary sounds of slamming doors and windows, merchants in the market district; but then there were sounds entirely unique to New Orleans too. There would always be a trumpet player standing among the beggars, the blares of his instrument downing out the pleas for coins. And then there were the thousands of voices shouting over one another in English, French, Creole, and a dozen other languages that Caddock could not identify.

All this easily made the city overwhelming to all five human senses.

Eventually, Benjamin led the them to a café where the plaster storefront was painted a bluer shade of blue than Caddock had ever thought possible. Glancing down at his pocket watch, he noted with some surprise that it was already twelve thirty. His own stomach had even neglected to tell him how much of the of the day had passed.

The moment they sat down, a bouncing young girl skipped over to their table as though she had been waiting for them to arrive. Without asking them, she poured the men glasses of icy cold tea before rushing off again. Benjamin soon proved, however, that even if the girl had stayed, she wouldn't have understood Caddock, as Benjamin called out to the girl in French, presumably to order their lunch. The girl nodded curtly, as so many French do, and then disappeared indoors.

"You might be able to pick up a phrase or two if you actually spent some real time among the people," Benjamin told him, just as he had on many occasions. And Caddock was about to protest when his friend reclined back in the metal chair and unfolded the paper to read over the front-page story that had been plastered across every New Orleans paper for several weeks now. Blaring layouts spread over the newsprint with bold writing along with photographs of confused-looking investigators huddled together in a crowded alley.

"This whole story reeks of Ministry involvement," Benjamin remarked, flipping over to the second page of the newspaper to read the rest of the store. "They don't say how he was killed, they don't give the victims' names...Protecting the victim's privacy? Hmph!"

And with that, Benjamin shut the Muggle paper and pulled an edition of the Bell Chronicle, a southern American wizard paper. From what Caddock could tell, it had already been read and reread several times since it had been printed that morning.

"You want the real story," Benjamin explained, opening the paper to reveal the exact same story gracing the wizarding headlines, "you have to buy a paper that won't leave anything out."

The waitress soon arrived with a basket full of bread, smiling at the two men. Caddock nearly found himself lecturing his partner for his lack of discretion, but the waitress left soon enough, her relaxed attitude implying that she saw nothing. Caddock took one of the still warm buns, spreading it thickly with butter and set it down beside his partner. Benjamin, however, allowed his food to sit as his eyes scanned the newspaper and he summarized the details of the story aloud for his friend.

"Only two of the victims were actually Muggles," Benjamin informed his friends with the details he had already memorized from days of reading. "This New Orleans Silencer's victims, the ones that haven't been named, have been composed of three wizards, three vampires, and a werewolf, only half transformed. The Ministry would have had to make quick work of that! Except even this paper doesn't say how the killer does it. All findings inconclusive."

"Why do you obsess over this story?" Caddock asked, shaking his head as the waitress came towards their table, a heavy-looking platter balanced on her shoulder. "It's all so morbid!"

The young girl reached them soon enough and began loading their table down with plates of food, food that Caddock couldn't quite tell was typically eaten for breakfast or for lunch. Poking a piece of chicken with his fork as though it were some foreign objects, he watched in silent disgust as blood began to seep out onto the already red rice. The French, no matter where one found them, seemed to all share the distinct inability to cook their meat all the way through. Caddock pushed his plate away while Benjamin took a rather large bite of his food without even stopping to examine it. Then, with his mouth still full, he explained his reasoning to his partner.

"We have to be informed, Caddock," he said, red bits of rice flying out onto the tabletop. "This story has all the markings of being the work of Dark Magic: the lack of media details, the absence of names from victims and law enforcement, the fact remaining that--"

"Alright, Benjamin," Caddock stopped his partner before any more of his food could end up in his line of general vision. "I understand."

Benjamin swallowed and wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve, another habit of his that Caddock found disgusting about his partner, and yet found himself holding his tongue about.

"And if the American Ministry finds out there are already two highly qualified British Aurors in the city," Benjamin continued to reason, "they may call us in to consult."

Again Caddock shook his head, taking a sip of the cold tea. It was far too sweet, his teeth crunching on the un-dissolved sugar particles.

Even when the two men were working, Benjamin Leroq could never manage to maintain a serious demeanor, joking all through entire investigations up until it was time to finally encounter the suspect. Other Aurors in their office often made light of the belief that Benjamin Leroq would die young and more than likely with a grin frozen on his face. Caddock never joined in these banters, however, because he too believed this, more than anyone else.

"We still have a week left in this town. Maybe we should try to catch the killer," Benjamin joked in a jovial manner. "I'll wager there's a fair amount of gold attached to this bloke's head!"

Caddock only met his friend with a rather critical stare. Trading Galleons for the capture of wizarding criminals was an ancient and rather 'gun-ho' practice in Caddock's opinion, but if there was a place in the world that still carried on the tradition, it would be here in this city. And of course, Benjamin Leroq would be the one to encourage it by going after this criminal on the premise of a material reward.

"I'm going back to the inn," Caddock said, rising from his chair and not even meeting his friend with a backwards glance as he walked out of the courtyard café.

"So you don't mind if I eat you Cajun slop?" Benjamin shouted loudly enough that the kitchen staff would have surely heard him and would now be planning ways to hide broken glass in his dessert.

Caddock snorted, but still did not turn around. This had been the relationship the two men had shared, not just since coming to New Orleans, but since they had been assigned as partners in the Department of Aurors. Caddock was the one who would always place thought above all else he did in his job, meticulously planning every step of everything he ever did, some trait he had acquired during his years as a Ravenclaw. Benjamin, however, never missed an opportunity to let his inner Gryffindor show. He would always be the first one to rush into danger, wand at the ready, and look danger dead in the eye without ever showing a shred of fear.

Of, course, neither of the men had been killed yet, so something had to be working between the two of them.

Suddenly, a loud blast from one of the infamous trumpet players brought him out of his thoughts. Once his heart rate was back down to normal, he dropped one of his silver Muggle coins into the nearby instrument case while the hungry eyes of the beggars around him watched. Feeling a pang of guilt, he began dropping some of his smaller, coppery coins into every tattered hand held out to him as he passed down the street.

_____________________________

A loud brass band blasted annoying, buzzing music on a stage behind the bar. Locals had thrown their inhibitions to the wind and danced through the establishment like heathens to some mystic drumbeat. The atmosphere was purely electric, and Benjamin had every intention of enjoying all it had to offer.

He had long since given up on trying to convince Caddock to come into these places with him. New Orleans was by far the best party town Benjamin Leroq had ever been to, but so far, he had been the only one of them who had experienced any of it. Though he could normally drag Caddock out onto the streets during the daylight hours, as soon as the real city life would begin, his partner would lock himself in the room of their inn, like a refugee of some unknown war, and stay in hiding there until the sun rose once again.

Every night, before Benjamin would leave him, Caddock would warn him that New Orleans, especially at night, was little short of a deathtrap waiting to happen; even more so than other cities. Not only did it have one of the highest populations of citizens infected with vampireism in the Americas, but the wizarding government in the United States was young and inexperienced in general. All these conditions made for a perfect breeding ground for Dark Magic, Caddock would say, and jumping into all that mess in the dead of night, when misdeeds could be shrouded by a cover of darkness and a lackluster government which did not threaten prosecution, was to severely temp fate.

It was a weak excuse in Benjamin's opinion. They were Aurors, for Merlins sake! They already made their living by facing that sort of thing everyday. And when it came to job experience, the two of them were hardly green. Sighing into his drink and stirring the melting ice, he resigned himself to the fact that his partner was an old man at the age of twenty-two.

"Barkeep," he shouted suddenly, pulling himself out of his thoughts, "another gin and tonic. And tell the band that unless someone has died to pick up the pace of that music!"

And he also, more willingly, resigned himself to enjoying the nightlife enough for the both of them.

While the bartender poured several bottles of liquor together into nearly a dozen different glasses, Benjamin turned his attention to the dancers swinging and throwing each other across the floor. The bar he had chosen for tonight could hardly have been classified as a 'high-society establishment', but that was probably the main reason he had decided to come here. One would never find a place like this back in England, and yet he was the only British man in here. He never did understand why people would travel halfway around the world just so that could dine, converse, and sleep in places they could have just as easily found a few miles from their homes.

The bartender then passed an amber drink to Benjamin with a quick nod of his head. The young Auror took the drink in his hand and raised a silent toast to the barkeep and then to the entire establishment before taking a quick gulp. If one truly wanted to consider themselves a world traveler, they had to delve into places where the common man feared to tread. Benjamin's own standard was anywhere that Caddock refused to follow him.

A sudden rush of air, however, distracted him from the party. At first, Benjamin worried that some woman had been thrown into the bar by her overzealous dance partner, but the lack of a crash or the sound of anything breaking quickly put that fear to rest.

Taking up the seat right next to him was quite possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Thick, shiny black hair cascaded down her back, her copper-toned skin soft and flawless. Turquoise jewelry accented her delicate features, dancing with even the slightest movement she made. Her deerskin clothing was beautifully embroidered with a beaded design. The city of New Orleans had many beautiful women, and Benjamin had had the pleasure of enjoying many of their company, but something about this young woman that was different.

Very different indeed, in a way he could not quite put his finger on.

"Well," Benjamin spoke, the alcohol in his bloodstream compensating for the queasy feeling the woman's beauty brought to his stomach. "Hello, love. Are you here all by yourself?"

The woman nodded softly, a gentle smile appearing over her expression. Maybe Benjamin had already had far too much to drink tonight, but he was certain that the young woman was as elated to see him as he was to be in her company right now.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked the woman carefully, becoming more confident still after she nodded. "An ale?"

The lovely young woman smiled brightly and accepted enthusiastically. For a woman to drink in public would have been unacceptable in most societies, but a glance around the dimly-lit club could have shown one many other things society would not approve of.

Benjamin silently blessed his own good luck as he signaled the bartender once again. Through even the most mundane movements, the young woman kept her eyes on him. She seemed thoroughly fascinated with Benjamin, everything he said and everything he did. Benjamin, feeling light-headed from the liquor and the strange power this girl seemed to have over him, was not all together sure what he was saying himself. In the back of his mind, he continued to worry that eventually his tongue would slip before his brain could catch it and the young woman would stomp back out onto the dancer looking for some other man who pleased her even more. But her attention remained on Benjamin, even when the bartender brought her her drink, clearly caught up in her charms as well, speaking to her in a velvet, flirting tone as he slid her glass over the counter to her.

The young woman, however, only acknowledged him with a slight tip of her head, not even breaking her eyes away from Benjamin long enough to meet his. She took only a few pretend sips from her glass before setting it down and pushing it off to the side, not to reach for it again. If Benjamin had been in the presence of a more intimidating figure (and sober), this behavior might have worried him. He was truly captured, like a mayfly drawn to a burning candle. He would more than likely end up burned by this infatuation, his years of Auror training told him, but he could not bring any other part of him to care.

"Listen," he told the young woman, "I hope I'm not being too direct, but if you wouldn't mind, I would love it if I'd be able to see you again. Maybe tomorrow? I know we have only just met, and the night is still young..."

Benjamin's voice trailed off when he noticed the young woman push herself up off her seat and begin walking away. As she moved, Benjamin noticed several men at the bar turn their heads to follow her. In his tipsy state, the young Auror found himself remembering that this was much the same type of reaction one would see whenever a veela would sweep through a room. But this girl is so clearly not a veela, his Auror sense told him, finally falling victim to the girl's charms as well. They're solitary forest creatures...in Bulgaria! There is absolutely no possibility that they would ever venture into a place as crowded and noisy as this

Further and further away she led him from the counter, the dancing, and eventually all people altogether. The light and energy of the club drifted away until the solitude show the true building atmosphere for what really was: dim, humid, and reeking of sweat and stale smoke.

Eventually, she brought him to a cobweb-covered, somewhat creaking staircase. The young woman took the first step up, casting back a coy, flirting look that told him to follow her further, but Benjamin hesitated. He was far from naïve. He had listened to the people of this city talk, about the upstairs rooms that existed in nearly every entertainment establishment in New Orleans and just what they existed for. The young Auror loved the attentions of this young lady and the charms she cast over him, but now he couldn't help but wonder what her true intentions had been when she sat down beside him, a well-dressed, handsome young man who appeared to be of desirable means.

At the first sign of his faltering, the young woman rewarded his previous bravery but pushing herself up against him, her arms hugging tightly around his shoulders, and with a loving kiss on his lips. The look in her large, soft brown eyes was a pleading one, begging him not to leave her here all alone. That if he left now, after spending all this time with her, her heart would simply shatter.

"Friendly little thing, aren't you?" he remarked, shedding all doubts the girl might have had that he would not follow her to the ends of the earth.

The lovely woman giggled and continued to lead Benjamin up the stairs, him following behind her almost like an over-eager puppy. Once she reached the top level, she disappeared behind the wall, her elegant fingers trailing, the last thing Benjamin saw before she completely vanished from sight.

Before he could find the girl himself, she shoved him, somewhat violently, up against the wall and began kissing his neck. Benjamin soon found himself unable to speak. How exactly would someone respond in a situation such as this? On some level too, he was worried that if he did say anything, the young woman, who still had yet to speak a word and offer him a clue as to her language, would take it as a request to stop. It didn't take very long, though, for Benjamin not to have that sort of thing to worry about anyway. The girl moved her lips from his neck to his mouth, nearly crushing his lips in a bruising lock.

She was now taking every opportunity to prove she was not the shy, coy little thing that had first led him out of the bar; not that Benjamin minded this change in the least. Without waiting for an invitation, she began pulling his jacket off from his shoulders, unbuttoning all of the clasps around his shirt collar, and working her way further and further down.

Oh, yes! He liked New Orleans very much.

At first Benjamin was nervous about being in such a public place, but the blaring music downstairs and occupied bodies swaying to the beat more than ensured they would not be interrupted. And since she had no room waiting for them behind the closed doors, he banished all thoughts as to any other motives this girl may have had.

Finally, he began contributing some movements of his own. Every time, the young girl discouraged it, pushing his hands back with a teasing, disapproving look, as though she wanted to be the one to do all the work herself, but Benjamin could not help it. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Her hair was shiny, almost slippery, refusing to stay trapped in his fingers for more than a few moments. He ran his hands across her bare shoulders and under her blouse, down her back, inciting a few airy gasps and more earthy moans, the most beautiful sound he was convinced that he had ever heard or ever would hear. Further and further down he reached, shifting his hands forward so they could grace over her thighs.

Then, suddenly he stopped. His fingers brushed across something soft; a great deal of something soft. On a startled reflex, he pulled up at her skirts. Nothing about this night had been anything expected, but what Benjamin saw beneath the young woman's clothes was enough to mortify him, even with all his years of experience in the realm of fighting the Dark Arts.

"What...the bloody HELL--"

The young woman smiled at Benjamin's discovery, but it was not the flirting smile she had been flashing as she sat beside him at the bar. There was something more sinister about this new look, something predatory, malicious, something near-evil.

Benjamin was so focused on the woman's face that the sharp blow to his guts took him all-the-more by surprise. She watched him as he sunk to the floor, her ever-growing stature making her appear all the more domineering and predatory in the scenario that was beginning to play out.

The last, and only, words Benjamin was vaguely aware of her saying seemed to echo as the world swirled around him.

"Die, white man..."

These same words had been spoken to eight other men on eight separate occasions in this city. And this time when these words were spoken, it was Benjamin Leroq who knew no more.