Cash walks back into the room, his expression grim.
“What is it?” Brielle asks her husband.
“They found the second victim,” Cash says with a sigh and pulls his laptop out of his bag. “She was in Shreveport. A buddy of mine from that PD is sending me images from the scene.”
He punches some keys and then rubs his hand over his mouth as he examines the screen.
“I’m not showing this to you,” he says and closes the laptop.
“Did she electrocute herself like the first?” Millie asks.
“No.” He swears under his breath. “God, I feel sick.”
“Take a deep breath,” Miss Sophia suggests. “What did he do to her?”
Ruth offers Cash a glass of water. He takes it and drinks deeply. “He cut her up. Cut her up really bad.”
I scowl. “So he’s back to doing things himself then?”
“No,” Cash says, shaking his head. “There were no other prints, no signs of another person being there at all.”
“Maybe he cleaned up after himself,” I suggest, but Cash is already shaking his head.
“There was so much damn blood. There’s no way another person was in that room,” he says, his voice growing harder with anger. “She cut herself up.”
“This is insane,” I mutter and have to stand to pace the room. “How is he doing this? How can he make these people kill themselves?”
“Through mirrors?” Oliver asks, surprising us all because he’s usually content to listen and watch. “Could he manipulate them through mirrors? I want to say I’ve read something about that before.”
“He could be using them as a window or portal,” Miss Sophia says, speaking slowly as she thinks it over. “It could be how he’s traveling, as well. It’s so unusual. So odd. I’ll have to do some research.”
“Does anyone know if Horace was a scrying master?” Millie asks.
“Do you know?” Daphne asks her mother, whose eyes grow round with confusion.
“Me? I don’t even know the man.”
Daphne and her sisters scowl in confusion, but Miss Sophia shakes her head, signaling for them not to jump in with questions.
“Ruth, you remember Horace. He worked at your home when the girls were little. A handyman.”
“I know that he’s the man we’re working to defeat and that he’s trying to hurt my girls, but I don’t remember knowing him at all. If he worked at the house, I didn’t hire him.”
“You have no memory of him hanging around the house?” Brielle asks with a small frown.
“She was already being tormented by then,” Miss Sophia says with a sigh. “Oh, Ruth. I’m so sorry.”
“Well, whether I know him or not, we’re going to kick his sorry ass straight to hell, I’ll tell you that right now,” Ruth says, straightening her spine. “Because like Daphne, I’m sick of being afraid. And I’m done being used. This will end.”
“Attagirl,” Miss Annabelle says and pats Ruth’s hand. “You’re absolutely right. He’s had his fill of fun or whatever it is he’s doing. It’s time for this to end. For all your sakes.”
“How?” I wonder aloud. “How do we end it? That’s the one question I’ve been asking since I became involved. The one that no one will answer.”
“Wait.” Brielle holds up a hand. “The day we defeated him at his house, when we were able to save Mama, that was during a full moon. And then when we defeated him again in the field, it was the full hunter’s moon, on Halloween, when the veil was the thinnest.”
“Please don’t tell me we have to wait for Halloween again,” I say, shaking my head. “That’s too damn far away.”
“No, but there’s a lunar eclipse coming,” Millie says, standing with excitement. “And that’s only two weeks away. A full moon eclipse is very powerful and may be exactly the thing we need.”
“I love this idea,” Daphne says with a nod. “Miss Sophia?”
The older woman simply smiles. “I think that’s a good idea.”
Chapter Ten
“I certainly wanted for my mother a nice, quiet, easy death like everyone else wants.”
-Edmund Kemper, The Co-Ed Killer
Despite taking the energies from his toys, along with the perfect toy, he felt depleted after the six of them spent time together.
It brought him to his knees and made him small. It must be what’s making him hurt the way he does now.
It had been so much easier, so much better before when he was still alive and only dealing with the girls. The killing, the punishments, they made him so fucking happy. Energized him as nothing else could. And the preparation! He had a strong work ethic and spent so many years working for his girls to show them how much he loved them.
And now he’s condemned to…this. He thought he’d be even stronger as a spirit. That he’d have more control. The fact that so many things he never considered could impact his energy only makes him angrier.
He hates feeling small.
That just won’t do.
So, he decides to shift his focus.
He needs new toys.
He’s starting to feel stronger now. The pain that rattles through this soul ebbs, and he can move again. There are spells to help him overcome this. He remembers reading about it in his mother’s grimoire.
Of course, that’s long gone in the fire.
They burned his house down.
The thought still fills him with so much rage. So much pain.
How dare they?
That’s just one more thing he’ll have to punish them for. Make them pay for destroying the one thing he worked so hard to give them. He left it all to them, didn’t he? And they didn’t want it.
They destroyed it.
He makes his way behind a mirror, weak and exhausted, and waits. It’s a long wait this time, which only fuels his anger.
But when his new toy walks into the room—a bedroom this time—he fills with glee.
“Oh, look at you,” he breathes. “Look at how perfect you are. With that long, red hair. Too curly to be my Daphne, but I’ll forgive it. This time. Yes. Come this way. Come over here.”
She walks to the dresser under the mirror, takes off her jewelry, and slips out of her shoes.
When she removes her sweater, he recoils in disgust when he sees the tattoos on her arms and back.
That won’t do.
“Why would you mark yourself up like that?” he asks and watches as the toy frowns and looks around.
“Is someone there?” she calls out and listens. He sees just a hint of fear in her green eyes, and that pleases him.
Yes, that pleases him very much.
As much as he wants to kill her right away, to watch her scream and cry and beg as he has the right to, he’s resigned himself to being patient with this one. He needs her energy. And he needs to teach them all a lesson.
“It’s just the two of us,” he says in a singsong voice. “I’m going to take very good care of you. Of course, before we’re done, you’ll have to lose those horrible tattoos. I don’t know what you were thinking. But we’ll fix it.”
He longs for his electric chair. For his bench. For his favorite knife.
And feels the anger surge in him once more, gaining in strength again as he pulls energy from this new toy.
“Now, let’s get started.”
Chapter Eleven
Daphne
“Let’s go check out where your new house will be,” I suggest to Mama when the meeting comes to an end. “Let’s talk about something fun for a bit.”
“Oh, I’d love that,” Mama says with a smile and then reaches out to take Miss Sophia’s hand. “Thank you again for this.”
“It’s absolutely my pleasure. Let’s go have a look, get the lay of the land, so to speak, and see what you think.”
The guys are all huddled over some books at Miss Sophia’s table, mumbling and talking. Lucien’s parents, Oliver, and Miss Annabelle have all left.
Now it’s time to take a breath and thin
k about something good. Something that doesn’t scare the hell out of me.
We set off down the little dirt road that winds away from Miss Sophia’s cabin, through a little meadow, and then Miss Sophia gestures to her left.
“I was thinking this spot would be perfect,” she says and takes Mama’s hand to lead her into the meadow. “There are trees tucked here on the side for some good shade, but you’ll also still have a view to my place. Our ritual field is even nearby.”
“Oh, it’s just lovely,” Mama says with a contented sigh. “So peaceful. Can you feel it, girls? Take a deep breath.”
We all breathe deeply, and I do feel it. The calm, the peace that rests here.
“I cleansed the area,” Miss Sophia says. “It’s a safe haven for you, Ruth.”
“I’m so grateful,” Mama says and swipes a tear off her cheek. “I don’t think I can ever repay you for this.”
“And there’s no need to,” Miss Sophia says simply. “Now, how do you want your place situated?”
“We were thinking two bedrooms,” Millie says, walking farther into the meadow. “With a nice big bathroom that has a soaking tub. And a good-sized kitchen since you’re a hedgewitch. You’ll need plenty of working space.”
“Oh, it’s fun to think about, isn’t it?” Mama says in delight. She’s like a kid on Christmas morning. “Well, I think it would be lovely if the house faced toward yours, Miss Sophia. That would give a nice view of the meadow here, and the trees will be to the back of the house for shade. I could plant a garden right over there.”
She walks and points, her eyes filled with excitement as she considers all the possibilities.
“I think that’s a great idea,” Brielle adds.
We spend a good half-hour making plans for Mama’s new home and brainstorming ideas. When we walk back to see how the boys are doing, Mama slips her hand into mine and kisses my cheek.
“I love you, daughter.”
I feel the tears and don’t bother trying to blink them away.
I’ve waited my whole life to have a moment like this with my mother.
I smile over at her and soak in the pure happiness I see in her eyes. “I love you, too, Mama.”
* * *
“Why are you here?” Millie asks in surprise when I approach her at her counter at Witches Brew. Esme, her trusted employee, just grins at me. “Not that I’m not happy to see you. I just don’t usually see you in the middle of a workday. Did you shut down the store?”
“Jack’s there,” I reply with a shrug. “I know I’ve been hesitant to bring on help in the past, but there’s something to be said for leaving it in someone else’s capable hands so I can go fetch a cup of coffee that I didn’t have to make for myself.”
Millie grins. “I love that he’s there with you. That he’s been staying with you.”
“He’s hot,” Esme declares with a dramatic sigh. “Too bad he doesn’t have a younger brother. I’m going to go straighten up the reading area.”
She waves and hurries off to the back of the café where Millie has a little area set up for reading, working, or just sitting quietly.
“Please, please don’t put any potions in my coffee,” I plead with my sister, who simply raises an eyebrow.
“Why?”
“Because I just want coffee.” I’m almost desperate when I reach over and cover her hand with mine. “No frills. No extras. Just coffee.”
“As soon as we’ve put all of this craziness to bed, you can have as much plain coffee as you want. But for now, you need the extra protection. So, as long as I’m the one making it, that’s how you’ll drink it.”
“You’re mean.”
I plop down onto a stool and sulk.
“No, I love you, and I’m looking out for you,” she says and works her magic on my brew. Literally. She even waves her hand over it, whispering something. A little puff of smoke rises from it.
“Did you just poison me?”
She laughs and secures the lid, then frowns. “These lids have been wonky lately. Be careful, okay?”
“I’ve got it,” I reply and take it from her. “It won’t be in there long enough to worry about it. I think I’ll stroll down to Mallory’s shop and look for a few things before I head back to my place.”
“That sounds fun.” Millie waves as a couple of people walk into her café. “Tell her I said hello.”
“Will do. Talk to you later.”
I step out into the French Quarter and turn to walk the couple of blocks to Bayou Botanicals, our friend Mallory Boudreaux’s business. She sells potions, crystals, oils, and all kinds of fun things. She’s a member of Miss Sophia’s coven and has been a good friend to us.
I push through her door and take a deep breath.
“It always smells so damn good in here.”
Mallory’s head turns at my voice, and she grins. “I have some new rosemary and lime soap. You should try it.”
“Hell, yes, I should. Put me down for a bar. I’d also like some new crystals for my shop.”
“Good idea.” We spend a good amount of time sniffing and playing with lotions and oils. When she rings me up, I’m several hundred dollars poorer.
“Wow, we shopped like it’s our job,” I say as I pass her my card.
“It is my job,” she says with a laugh.
“I guess it’s mine, too, now that I think about it.” I sign the slip and pass it back to her. “You have such awesome stuff in here, Mal.”
“Thanks, I try.”
“How’s the family?”
Her smile spreads wider. “Beau’s the best. He’s home with the babies today because the nanny called in sick. So, he’s working from home while they sleep.”
“A billionaire hanging out with babies.” I sigh and shake my head. “I think that might be the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I know, right?” She laughs and pushes her red hair over her shoulder. “I’m going to close early and go relieve him so he can get to the office. But everyone’s doing well, thanks for asking. Having babies and making boats. Spending time at Inn Boudreaux out in the bayou.”
“It’s such a lovely place,” I say, remembering the huge house the Boudreaux family converted into a bed and breakfast. “Gabby does a great job out there.”
“We’re having a little BBQ out there next week. There won’t be any guests, and the weather is supposed to be cool. We’d love to have you. All of you.”
“Oh. Well, thank you. That sounds like a lot of fun and something to distract us from… other things.”
“I think so, too. I’ll text you with the details.”
“Sounds great.” I take my bag of goodies and grin at the other woman. “I can’t wait.”
“I’ll see you soon, then.”
I wave and set off down the street, headed back to my car in front of Witches Brew. I love the French Quarter. It’s so full of color. Life. The history is limitless. I’ve learned to keep my shields in place because of that vast history, but still, I love it.
I’m grateful to be able to live and work here.
I sip my coffee and grin.
I don’t know what spell Millie casts on these so it stays warm until the last sip, but I love it.
I’m having a damn good day.
When I reach the car, I open the back door first to set my big bag in the back seat, and then I sit in the driver’s seat and fasten my belt.
Only to look up into an eyeless face.
I scream, my coffee falling and spilling all over the front of me. It takes me a full twenty seconds to realize that what I’m staring at is a photo.
A polaroid.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter and push my fingers into my eyes. “Scared the hell out of me.”
I don’t bother to take the photo out from beneath my windshield wiper. I don’t want to touch it. Instead, I fire up the engine and call Cash.
“Hey, Daph.”
“I’m staring at a photo of a woman with no eyes,” I say by way
of greeting. My heart still feels as if it’s pounding out of my chest. “And I’m driving to you.”
“Where are you?”
“Five minutes away. Meet me out front.”
I do my best to ignore the face and the fact that I’m now wearing my delicious coffee, and hurry through traffic to the police department.
When I pull up out front, Cash is waiting for me on the steps.
“Jesus, why didn’t you move it so you didn’t have to stare at it?”
I shake my head as I get out of the car. “Because I don’t want to touch it.”
“Wait, do you see things when you touch the photos?”
I stop, suddenly stunned. “Actually, no. I don’t see anything at all. I just feel the heartbeat. The warmth.”
“That’s creepy enough,” he says grimly. “You haven’t touched that at all?”
“Nope. It’s a virgin, just waiting for you.”
“Just like I like them—don’t tell your sister I said that.”
I grin and watch as he slips on gloves and gingerly takes the photo out from under the wiper blade.
He flips it over to look down at it.
“God, she’s young.”
“I noticed.” I lean to look over his shoulder. Naked shoulders and her head are all that show in the black and white photo. “The timestamp.”
“Tomorrow,” he says with a nod. “He hasn’t killed her yet.”
“I hate this so fucking much,” I growl. “I hate knowing that he has her, however that’s possible, and is doing horrible things to her. That he’s going to torture her and kill her. We don’t know who she is, or how to find her. I hate feeling so helpless.”
“I know,” Cash says. “Trust me, I know. I’ll run her. We might get lucky.”
“I love your optimism.”
“I’m going to do everything I can to find her before he kills her,” Cash promises and leans in to kiss my forehead. “Should we call the others?”
“No.”
I blow out a breath when he just raises his brows in surprise as if to say: You’ll be in trouble.
“Seriously, this is starting to happen so often that if we get together every time, we’ll always be together, and no one has time for that, Cash. I’m going back to work. I need to change these clothes and get on with my life.”
Serendipity: A Bayou Magic Novel Page 9