New Orleans was a welcome sight, mostly for the promise of anonymity it held. Marcus had talked about coming here after Katrina though whether that was because he had a connection to the City or just smelled a power vacuum he could fill without much of a fight was hard to say. If he had connections here it stood to reason Martha might, too. Luna had no idea whether Emma and Martha were here, but at least it was some place to start. And that ranch hand gave the impression that while he didn’t really expect to see them it wasn’t entirely out of the question either.
If they were here, they hadn’t come directly from Bon Temps, that was certain. She’d made the trip herself on four feet and none of the lone Weres or shifters she’d encountered recalled seeing the pair. Of course, they could have been traveling in a larger group but no one reported any groups coming through either.
She found a small apartment above a trinket store on Bourbon Street. Though she wouldn’t be getting much sleep, at least, not at night, Luna had chosen the location more for the view than anything else. It would be easy to people watch and even eavesdrop on some conversations from here without actually having to go down and mingle with the masses. She didn’t expect Martha to frequent bars. Someone who knew Martha and Emma might, and if they did they would be more likely to let information slip with some alcohol in them than not. Even if those who knew Martha were keeping a tight lid on things, it was tough to go anywhere in the Quarter without crossing Bourbon at some point. She hoped that being closer to Esplanade than Canal made it slightly more likely that a woman with a child would cross nearby but wasn’t going to count on it.
She had to find a reliable source of information and soon. Though she was not committed to the Oklahoma tribe, she was indebted to them. They could come looking for her at any time. Someone from Bon Temps, like Sam or Alcide, could track here as well, if they had any inkling she was still alive. She hoped she had covered her tracks well enough to prevent that but she wasn’t counting her chickens just yet. Even if she had managed to keep her true identity secret, a stranger asking about Martha and Emma could be worrisome enough that someone might come after her. She hoped not.
As the sun began to slide down the western sky, Luna made a quick run to Matassa’s Market over on Dauphine to pick up some essentials and dinner. She could venture out of the Quarter in a couple of days to really stock her apartment. For tonight Matassa’s would suffice and let her keep her distance from the drunks and two-natured bouncers and bartenders who made their living on Bourbon.