Dominic “Pere Mal” Malveaux stood at The End of The World, the dramatic spot where the New Orleans shore line led straight outward before sloping down into the Mississippi River, turning over the events of the last few months. This particular spot was beloved by locals, a place to walk right out to the water. A good place to perhaps celebrate a holiday, or marvel at the beauty of the Louisiana coast.
Or think over one’s failures and accomplishments, as it were.
Pere Mal swept his hands down the front of his suit, ignoring the way the salty, humid breeze buffeted him. He sucked in a deep breath and watched a tug boat guiding a ship downriver. For a moment, he felt a strange lash of jealousy toward the ship. He wanted that kind of guidance, needed it. Over and over again he’d summoned the
