“You sure you don’t want to tell her?” I asked. “Because she’s not going to appreciate updates from me, a junior librarian with bad news, when she’s in the middle of planning the ball.” Our annual ball, which would allow for a blessing for all those present, was tomorrow night.
“I hadn’t thought of that. Never mind, then. I’ll talk to her when I go over tonight. Let me know as soon as you talk with the Cormier girl. That’ll give me something to tell her.”
“I’m going to see her tomorrow morning before work. I’ll call you on my way in,” I promised. I’d taken my laptop home, going over the files once more so that I didn’t show up on Melasina Cormier’s doorstep without all the facts.
Which is why not only had I come here with questions about the grave disturbances, but a few more things. There had been a number of people adding to the file of Sariah Cormier, and not only was it interesting, but the information within was extremely contradictory. When I’d looked at the main investigator of the case, it was Talia Dumond, the former Head Librarian who had trained me. Talia had since retired, but she was second to none.
Or so I thought until I saw the handwritten notation on one of the last pieces of paper in the file. I had to read it again, and then I followed up with the online records—we still had too much paper, but it was hard to convince our older members that paper wasn’t the best thing.
This couldn’t be. I shook my head, and went to bed, the lines I’d read seared into my brain. I couldn’t shake them. When had I seen this file before? There was a hint of memory, but it was just out of reach.
And so, armed with all the questions that had come up for me, that was how I found myself sitting across from the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen. She was tall, but not as tall as my 6’2 frame. She had long hair that was dark as the moonlit sky and wavy, falling down around her face and shoulders. Her skin had a creamy cast, and she had light green eyes. It was a striking look with her hair, and I couldn’t look away. A surge of lust came over me. I wanted to run my hands through her hair, pull her to me, bend her head back, exposing that creamy neck and—
The neighbor she’d mentioned yelled from the backyard again.
“Your neighbor is up early,” I said, smiling, trying to regain my bearings and calm myself.
Melasina whipped her head around so quickly I wondered if she’d hurt herself.
“Yes, she’s a pain sometimes,” she said. Her voice was tight as she gave me a thin smile.
Something was off here.
“Well, let’s get to this, and I’ll get out of your hair,” I said. Pulling out my laptop, I opened it. I also pulled out the file, setting it on the small table in front of me.
“What is this about?” Melasina asked. She looked nervous.
“This is rather awkward, so I’m just going to put it out there. There’s been some activity in the graveyards around here.”
Her eyebrows went up, and the anxious expression disappeared as though it had never been there. “So you thought you’d come and visit the nearest member of the Cormier family?” Her voice was harder, and there was none of the nervousness I’d thought I’d heard only a moment before. “The only member left in New Orleans?” She asked, sarcasm dripping from her words.
“It’s just a matter of covering our bases,” I said.
Melasina leaned forward. She was angry. “My mother was one person. She wasn’t our entire family. And after you lot kicked her out, she died! So thanks for that! But regardless of what she did, that has nothing to do with me! I’ve been a model citizen!”
“Um, well, yes.” I’d expected some pushback, but this was over the top. “ So you have no idea about who might have disturbed any local graves?”
“None,” Melasina said.
“And a few questions about your mother. Did you attend her funeral?”
“What?” She was taken aback at my question.
“Did you attend her funeral?”
Melasina looked down. “No. My dad went, but he didn’t feel I needed to go. He took me to her grave about a year after that, but I wasn’t there for the service.”
I nodded, making a note in the open file. That made sense with what I’d found. The funeral had been small, hasty, and secretive.
“Why do you ask?” Melasina was looking at me intently.
“Oh, I was checking some of the things in my notes,” I said, not wanting to give any of my suspicions away.
“I’m sure you have extensive notes. Talia Dumond was very thorough in her prosecution of my mother,” her face twisted.
“Um, yes,” I said. Talia was my mentor, the one who brought me into the library, who showed me the way to work within our coven, the library, the rules, everything. She’d been the one who helped me make the transition to an active member in our coven. She was like a mother to me. Which made this all the more difficult.
“Was there anything else?” Melasina stood up.
I finished typing my notes, and then closed the laptop as I got up. “Do you have any idea if there was someone who worked with your mother before she left? Any ideas, any at all?”
Her face closed as her eyes narrowed, which gave me a pang. That made no sense—I’d just met her. Why did I care that she didn’t like me? “No, Jasper, I don’t. I don’t know why you’d think I would. Like I couldn’t learn from what happened to my mother? Like I’d risk my life?” She shook her head. “You people at the library are supposed to know history. Maybe learn some. I’m just a plain old witch, not a trained librarian, and even I know that necromancy isn’t the way to go.” Melasina stood and walked to the door and opened it.
I admired her long legs and graceful form. Lust nearly overtook me again.
But Melasina’s intention was clear. She was done with the discussion. Normally, I didn’t find myself at a loss for words, but right now, I didn’t know what to say. I had no more reason to hang around.
“Thank you for your time,” I said. I stood up. I had more that I wanted to say, that I wanted to talk about, but what was it? My head felt muddled, my thoughts scattered.
“Of course. I’m law and order all the way,” Melasina said sarcastically.
The door shut behind me with a click, and I found myself on her porch. Wishing that I was still inside. “What just happened?” I asked myself, turning around to see her front door. “I wasn’t done.” I looked at the closed door. “I wasn’t done.”
Despite my words, my feet moved down of the little porch, taking me toward my car.
Chapter Three
Melasina
I should be frightened. The coven leadership—well, let’s be honest. The coven law enforcement, which was what the librarians were—had already noticed the graves. And here I was with two bodies and a mouthy skull in my back shed.
Shit.
How had this happened? I waited to make sure that Jasper Thibodeaux—who, by the way, was the hottest guy I’d seen in ages, damn it—got into his car. He walked slowly, the effects of my spell, no doubt. As soon as he’d mentioned my mom, I told him what I knew, and cast a ‘get the hell out’ spell on him. It had all but moved him out the door. Finally, he started the car and drove away. Thank Goddess. Once I saw his car turn the corner, away from me, I sped back to the laundry shed.
“How did you get here?” I asked Zelda the skull.
“You brought me. How else would I get here?”
“Oh sweet Goddess. How did I manage that? You’re normally in the crypt at Magnolia House!” The thought scared the living daylights out of me. If anyone discovered this, I’d be out of New Orleans, and my coven, and the entire world of witches so fast I wouldn’t know what hit me. I’d never live freely again.
“You know, it would lovely if you’d fix me,” Zelda remarked.
“Fix you how?” I was struggling with the fact that I was chatting away with a box of bones.
“I’m tilted and it makes it hard to see what’s going on,” Zelda said. “Just reach in and set my head upright.�
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“You can see?”
“Well, not with my skull, no,” Zelda said as though I were a slow child. “But my spirit has been kept with my bones. So you may address my skull as though I were there before you.”
“I may address you? Well thank you,” I said, unable to hide the sarcasm in my voice.
“Don’t take a tone with me, young lady!” Zelda squawked. “Nice shellwork with that young man, by the by.”
“I’m not taking a tone, and thanks for the compliment,” I sighed, tired already. It wasn’t even nine in the morning, and I felt like I’d already run a marathon. “How in the hell am I going to get these bodies out of here?”
“Same way they came in.”
“I have no idea how they came in,” I snapped. “I don’t remember bringing you here, and I can’t imagine that you were quiet.”
Zelda didn’t respond immediately. Then the she said, “No, I was actually watching to see what was happening. I could tell you were not entirely yourself, and I couldn’t see that you meant me any harm, so I waited, and watched.”
“And what do you think now?” I asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
“I think you have a problem, chéri. You are not awake when you do these things.” There was a note of warning in Zelda’s voice.
“Yeah, this is what got my mom into trouble,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “I can’t put them back today.”
“No, that wouldn’t be prudent,” Zelda said. “But use magic to send them home.”
“I don’t know where I got them!” I threw up my hands in disgust. Jasper Hottie Thibodeaux hadn’t said which cemetery or cemeteries were disturbed.
“I can help you with that,” Zelda said.
“It all needs to wait,” I said. “I need to go shopping. I need a manicure,” I rubbed at my scratched hands. “I need to get to work.” I worked as a website designer, and while I worked at home, I had to meet deadlines and clients online throughout the day. At least I’d be able to be around and make sure no one discovered my crazy and completely illegal additions to the back shed. “How in the hell did this happen?” I muttered. I made to leave the shed. I needed to go to the grocery store, too, but it looked like food was down on the important list.
“You can’t just leave me here,” Zelda said.
“What am I supposed to do with you?”
“Bring me with you. I’ve been stuck in the crypt for years. I’d like some company.”
I stared at the box. This felt surreal, insane almost. After everything that happened with my mom, I didn’t step one toe outside the lines. No experimental magic, no creating spells. Nothing but standard, normal, acceptable spell craft.
And still, I ended up with a talking skull in my shed.
“Oh, all right. But if anyone knocks, I’m putting a drape over your box.”
Zelda didn’t reply immediately. Then she sighed—how did a spirit do that? “Very well. I accept your offer.”
“Well, I’m so glad,” I said.
Zelda apparently missed the sarcasm. “As am I. I know this was not your choice, chéri, but I am glad for the company. And it’s exciting to have a mystery to solve!”
“I don’t exactly think of my life as a mystery,” I said, carefully balancing the reliquary as I left the shed. I locked the door. I didn’t need anyone snooping around in there. Not until I could get my grisly visitors back where they belonged.
“But it is a mystery!” Zelda crowed. “Why are you moving when you are not awake? Have you always walked in your sleep?”
I shook my head as I sat the box carefully on the side table in my tiny office. “No, never. I’ve only been waking up with dirty hands for—” I stopped.
“Yes?” Zelda prompted.
“The last three weeks.”
“But you didn’t bring home any corpses before now?” The laughter had faded from her voice.
“I haven’t done laundry in four days and there were no bodies in there when I did my laundry,” I said, my own voice shaky. I sat down in my office chair, feeling a hundred years old and completely defeated. “I’m so screwed.”
“You don’t have to be,” Zelda remarked.
“Shouldn’t you be turning me in to the coven police?”
Zelda made a noise. “Perhaps. But I do not sense harm from you. There is an air of danger about you, although I don’t sense it coming from you personally. It’s more all around you, chéri.”
“That makes me feel so much better.”
“It should. Now enough sulking. We have work to do.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. How was it I was being bossed around by a skull in a box?
“We need to discover what it is that has set you off. Why are you heading out into the night now? What are you seeking? Is this your will, or another’s?”
Her words sent a chill through me. “That’s all well and good, but I need to go out. Then I need to work.”
“Well, go if you must. But you and I must work today. Otherwise, who knows what happens tonight?”
“You really don’t understand the idea of softening the blow, do you?” I asked.
Zelda laughed. “Of course I do, but where is the sense in that? You have a problem, and I am a fresh set of eyes for your problem.”
“You’re not a fresh set of anything,” I muttered.
“I heard that, and while technically that is true, what is also true is that I have been part of assisting the coven leadership for many years.”
“Even now?” I asked. Sweet Goddess, if they talked to her regularly, they would know she was missing, and then getting her back to the crypt would be nearly impossible.
There was a moment’s silence, and then Zelda spoke, sounding stiff. “No, as of late, the coven leadership has needed less of my time.”
Oh. I knew hurt pride when I heard it. But for me, that was great. “That means it will be easier to get you back where you belong,” I said.
“How do you plan to do that?” Zelda asked.
“I have no idea. I don’t even know how to get the bodies back to their graves,” I said.
“I can help you,” she said eagerly. “There are spells that will return them.”
“Are you sure? You’ve been gone a long time,” I said.
“Are you questioning my ability?” Zelda asked. “The founder of your coven?”
“No, I’m not. I’m nervous,” I said.
“Understandable,” Zelda replied. Her voice had changed to that of a teacher.
I wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. “Listen, I need to get things done today, somehow get those bodies back, and get myself together for the coven ball tonight.”
“You can’t miss that,” Zelda agreed.
“Not when there is some question about me,” I said. “I swear, I’m never going to get past that.”
“Well, let’s get started. What are you wearing tonight?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“That’s your first task then,” Zelda said.
I spent the rest of the day dealing with work tasks. I left the grocery shopping. I’d have to deal with it tomorrow. I kept a hunk of cheese in the back of the fridge. After lunch of cheese and some slightly old cucumbers, I went and got a manicure, asking the tech to please pamper my hands. I needed to look innocent as hell tonight.
Just after dark, I stood in front of the mirror in my room, turning from side to side. Zelda sat on the dresser on my left.
“You look wonderful, although you’re showing an awful lot of skin,” she said.
“Maybe to you,” I said. “I’m pretty modest.” My long dress was fitted, with a mermaid flair at the bottom. It was midnight blue, and the fabric sparkled as I turned from side to side.
“There’s no room for me,” Zelda said.
“What?” I spun around to look at her.
“Well, you need to take me with you. What if you’re bespelled by someone? You won’t be able to see that. I will.”
“You have got to be kidding,” I said.
Zelda didn’t reply.
“No,” I said.
She didn’t say anything. The silence said it all.
“I don’t have a bag big enough for that,” I said. “And what if I’m caught with you?”
“You won’t be. We can set a concealment spell over me,” she said.
“How convenient,” I muttered.
“Yes, it is,” Zelda said cheerfully. “That’s the beauty of having an elder on your side.”
“That’s what we’re calling it? Having an elder on my side?” I asked.
“If you’re wise,” her tone held a warning.
I stifled a laugh. After I finished my makeup, and looked my hair over once more, I went to my closet to see what bag to carry. I’d planned on a small evening bag, but that wasn’t going to work with a skull that needed to fit in there. I found a black bag and made sure Zelda fit.
“This is quite cramped,” her voice came from my bag.
“Listen, you need to deal,” I said. “And you can’t just shout at me from my bag. It’ll look really weird.”
“What’s the point of me going then?” Zelda was exasperated.
“You can stay home,” I suggested.
“No, missy, I cannot. Very well. I shall be quiet. But I’m watching.”
I laughed then, not bothering to hide it. “I’ll remember that. There’s not going to be much to see.”
“We’ll see about that,” Zelda snapped.
Together with Zelda, I cast a concealment spell. No one could see her in my bag, even if the bag fell and she rolled out. The thought of being caught with her made me sweat just thinking about it.
“Let’s go,” I said. I’d called for a Lyft, because parking around Magnolia House was shit. The driver was a tall woman who thankfully wasn’t very talkative. I didn’t have the energy for anything extra.
Walking in, I could see how the coven had gone all out for this. They usually did, but I hadn’t been to the annual ball the last couple of years. I just didn’t see the point, and I was tired of always being the object of whispered conversations. I doubted it would be any different tonight, but with the librarian guy—who was still super hot, and whom I found myself thinking about more than once today—showing up at my house, I didn’t have a choice.
Wicked Love Page 2