by G A Chase
Kendell presented the business card the Lieutenant had given her with the symbol on the back. “Joseph Cazenave sent us.”
The man nodded and pointed toward the row of elevators. “Take the middle one to the twenty-fourth floor. I’ll let them know you’re coming.”
The elevator wasn’t nearly as dirty or run-down as Myles had expected, though that did little to ease his apprehension of what they would encounter when the doors opened. The Lieutenant had been a reasonable man at the police station. Myles tried to envision the most likely scenario. Even if they were handing the pipe tool off to the wrong people, the meeting would be a short, polite exchange, and then they’d be ushered out of the building. The last thing the secretive agency would want would be for questions to arise about the missing couple. But using intellect to argue they would be safe did little to calm his beating heart. Once again, he was walking Kendell into a dangerous situation.
When the doors opened, he was surprised to see a receptionist sitting at the desk of a well-lit, nicely decorated office. “He’s expecting you. You can go on in.”
Unlike what Myles had seen of the rest of the building, the wood-paneled office lined with shelves filled with dusty books more aptly resembled his grandfather’s den than a modern business office. All the heavyset gentleman in the tweed jacket needed was a cigar to complete the image. “Joseph mentioned you might be stopping by. Please have a seat.”
Kendell ran her hand along the book spines as she read the titles. “What is this place?”
“A repository of the paranormal.”
Myles sat in the overstuffed leather chair. He wondered how much of the office was intentionally designed to put guests at ease. The feeling of being manipulated kept him on edge, but at least his initial fears of being threatened hadn’t materialized. “Lieutenant Cazenave said our pipe tool would be kept safe here. What are you willing to tell us about what you do?”
The man’s high-backed chair creaked as he leaned back. “You’re hesitant. I get that a lot. You’ve stumbled across the Malveaux curse, and unless I’m much mistaken—which doesn’t happen often—I’d say you were ready to be rid of that murderous knife. Let me start off by explaining where you are. Have you ever wondered why this building is so different from the rest of the structures around it?”
Modern architecture had never really interested Myles. “I guess a big X-shaped footprint is kind of odd.”
The man’s laugh, like the office, was pitched at just the right depth to put Myles at ease. “It’s not odd. From any reasonable assessment, it’s the most foolish design possible for surviving a hurricane. Instead of shedding the wind and rain like a triangle or circle, or even a well-positioned square, this thing catches any storm headed this way. Officially, it was built to house offices for international operations looking to do business in New Orleans.”
The history lesson was beginning to grow boring.
“Like most people, I assume I lost you at the word ‘international.’ That too was intentional. The real purpose is to house dangerous artifacts. Think of our possessions like nuclear waste. The only thing worse than having one barrel of the stuff is to have hundreds of barrels all stacked together. To keep the energy from building to unsafe levels, the stuff needs to be kept isolated. That’s where the design of this building comes into play. By having four wings on every floor, our objects can be kept secure from each other. The wind that whips down the inner angles of the structure further ensures such power doesn’t accumulate.”
Kendell turned from her inspection of the books. “So this was never an office building?”
“We did house offices for a time. Our occupants helped with the cover story. But once Hurricane Katrina hit, we were able to claim the building unsafe. Which it is, just not structurally. This place is built stronger than most bomb shelters.”
Myles didn’t see much reason to continue pussyfooting around his big question. “Who are you? Are you with the government?”
“My name is Luther Noire. Governments are too temporary. There’s a reason this is the World Trade Center. As a way of explaining this organization, I’d like you to imagine something. See yourself as an early caveman. You’re squatting over a boulder with a rock in your hand. By slamming the rock against a nut that’s on the boulder, you’re able to crack the shell and get at the meat. Now another caveman comes along, but instead of just having a rock, he’s tied his to the end of a stick. With the increased force, he’s able to smash the nut with far less effort. You might see such a person as having mystical skills and the hammer he’s formed as being supernatural, which from your experience it would be. Such a tool could be dangerous in the wrong hands.”
Kendell put her hand on Myles’s shoulder. “So your organization is international and pre-dates our modern understanding of governments. That could only mean the church.”
“A very good guess but not accurate. We’re more of an offshoot of many religions. The Catholics, for example, are happy to contain what they consider their holy relics. Their means of keeping such items safe is to instruct their congregations to worship the items. But not all objects can be traced to saints. That’s where we come in. We take the castoffs.”
Kendell pulled the pipe tool from her pocket and set it on the desk. “Like this?”
Instead of picking up the cylinder Mr. Noire opened a ledger that took up half of his desk. He pulled some spectacles out of the pocket of his jacket that looked as old as the pipe tool. The small lime-green lenses looked out of proportion on his large face. Myles realized he’d seen the color before in the glasses Lieutenant Cazenave had worn at the police station, but he’d discounted the eerie tint as being a reflection of the tile walls.
Mr. Noire’s eyes were enlarged to the size of the lenses. “I need you both to tell me your story. Start as far back as you can. Don’t try to make a long story short. I want it all. And rest assured that I can see the truth.”
What amazed Myles about the telling of their adventure was how smoothly he and Kendell handed off the narrative. Like a play where the dialogue had been well rehearsed, not once did they contradict each other. She even helped with his explanation of his psychometric abilities. He grasped her hand at her insight on their shared consciousness exploring the pipe tool’s original curse. She handled the experience of him as a small boy with great sensitivity, and she didn’t shy away from his connection to her as a young girl. Mr. Noire diligently recorded the pertinent information in his elegantly cursive handwriting.
Once Mr. Noire had the story fully recorded, he turned his attention to the pipe tool. “Such an ordinary little item.” He made a production of wrapping the tool in cellophane, then wrapping it again in velvet, and finally setting it in a rough-hewn wooden box lined with some kind of metal.
“What happens to the pipe tool now?” Kendell asked.
“With any luck, it and the events surrounding it will be forgotten. People have an amazing ability to ignore things they don’t understand. The church believes by putting their superstitions on display, that power will either be considered antiquated and foolish or revered and holy. But they have the luxury of focusing on their relics’ abilities to do good. Parishioners are told the object has more power than any individual should handle. Dealing with cursed items is more like keeping the cookie jar on the top shelf so children can’t get to it. The power to do evil is always more tempting than to do good.”
Myles considered Mr. Noire’s explanation naïve. “What about the Laroque family? They’re not likely to just forget about the curse.”
“The curse, no. But this pipe tool is already listed as missing from the police evidence room. I count my successes one item at a time.”
Myles still had more questions than answers. “You don’t worry about that putting Lieutenant Cazenave in danger of being discovered as your mole in the department?”
Mr. Noire removed his glasses and settled back in his chair. “Danger is all around us every day. By standing on the fr
ont line of good versus evil, we ensure the general public is free to carry on with their daily lives—just as you two should do.”
It wasn’t until Myles was back out on the street that Kendell articulated the thought that had been bugging him. “Do you think he meant we should get on with our lives like everyone else, or we’re supposed to be standing with him on the front line?”
“I think he intended it to be a question we had to ask ourselves. You do realize that pipe tool isn’t the only object under the Malveaux curse?”
The street was filled with children headed to the aquarium for a school outing. She took a seat on one of the metal benches and watched the procession. “You’re worried each of those items might find its way to me. I can’t run away. I know that was my mom’s decision, but it’s not mine. She couldn’t have known the current dangers. Even though the family stories would have sounded like just superstitious nonsense, in her heart she would have felt a need to leave. I think I understand her just a little bit better now.”
His heart leapt at the idea of her staying. Their connection had been forged by the combination of danger, mutual acceptance, and trust. “I want to make sure you know what you’re saying. We’ll be going up against one of the most powerful families in the country.”
She smiled at him for some time before answering. “Does that mean you’re staying too?”
She’d caught his unintended admission of emotion, but his feelings weren’t necessarily something he wanted to keep hidden. “We’re more than partners. If you’re staying, I’ll be right here beside you.”
* * *
After a week of being free of the cursed tool, Kendell began to feel like her old self. It wasn’t a feeling she liked. Even doubling up on her coffee intake had only made her nervous without providing the adrenaline rush she craved.
She sat at the outdoor café, fidgeting. She was intentionally early. The prospect of arriving to see Myles already seated with her mother had been avoided, but as a result, she had to sit and wait. At least she had Cheesecake to keep her company. “Why am I so nervous, girl? It’s not like I care what my mother thinks.”
Cheesecake looked up with her deep, soulful eyes as if to ask the question Kendell had felt growing in her heart since the night Myles had come to their rescue.
“It doesn’t matter what I say to you, does it? You see right through me.”
Cheesecake snuggled close to her leg and lifted her shaggy head to Kendell’s knee.
Kendell petted the floppy ears. “I know you’re always on my side.”
“What are you two up to?” They both smiled to see Myles arrive.
“Just waiting on you. I guess I was a little early. Cheesecake pulled me the whole way.”
He sat next to her with Cheesecake at their feet. “It’s just lunch. Some women do find me quite charming, you know. I’m sure I can carry on a conversation with your mother without unduly embarrassing you.”
Ever since their shared mental connection into the tool’s energy, he’d been able to read her a little too well for her comfort. Not that she couldn’t also tell what he was feeling. “Maybe it’s not her impression I’m worried about.”
“Since you know me better than to worry what I think, I’ll have to conclude you’re somehow worried about how Cheesecake will view our interaction.” He reached down and ran his fingernails along the dog’s spine, which caused her to arch her back with enjoyment.
“You’re even getting to know my dog too well.”
“Seriously, though, I know you followed me down this paranormal rabbit hole. If we hadn’t tried to figure out my abilities, we never would have bought that pipe tool in the first place. I put you both in danger. Your mother would have every right to think I was a bad influence on you.”
For someone who understood her so well, he could still revert to that stupid male mentality without much effort. “You know that’s not the way I see it. I talked you into every step of this journey.”
Before he could attempt another lame-ass response, she saw her mother approaching the table. Kendell barely got a hug in before her mother bent down to greet Cheesecake. “How’s the pretty girl? Who’s a good girl? Is it you?”
Cheesecake endured the childish actions of the older woman with the reserve she always showed to those of lesser dignity. Kendell, however, still found her mother’s antics when it came to dogs embarrassing. “Mom, I’d like you to meet Myles.”
She felt bad for him. Like Cheesecake, Myles attempted a classier approach than her mother. He held out his hand only to be embraced in a full-body bear hug. Kendell wouldn’t have felt as bad if her mother had at least worn a bra under the lightweight tie-dyed dress. “It’s so good to finally meet the man who entices my daughter out of her shell.”
For a moment, Kendell wondered if she could eat her lunch under the table with Cheesecake. Myles took her hand. “I suspect you underestimate her. I’ve never met a more confident woman.”
“We’re talking about my daughter? The one constantly hiding in the overcoat?”
Myles gave Kendell an appraising smile. “Just like a superhero. Only those that truly know her recognize the strength within.”
Kendell sat and listened to the two debate her character. Her mother’s representation was of a young girl hiding in her room playing her guitar and avoiding any form of social interaction. She recognized the loner in her mother’s narrative, but she’d outgrown that phase long ago. Myles, however, spoke of a woman who was fearless. In his eyes, she was a heroine devoted to protecting others and searching out the truth.
She suspected neither characterization was completely accurate. Vestiges of her mother’s description still crept up far too often. And though the events she’d shared with Myles had to be the basis for his assessment, that courageous woman he saw in her was still often a front for her insecurities. By the end of the meal, she realized her initial fear hadn’t been for her mother’s and Myles’s assessment of each other. It was for her personal impression.
Back out on the path that ran along the levee, he held her hand. “Do you want to talk about whatever it is that’s really bothering you? Because I don’t believe it has anything to do with me meeting your mother.”
She knew it was pointless to try and hide anything from him. “Ever since we turned the pipe tool over to Mr. Noire, I’ve had this emptiness inside. At first I thought it was a lack of purpose. I was playing an important role in keeping the Malveaux curse from doing harm. But as the days passed, I realized there was more to it. I’d grown addicted to that energy, dark as it was. It flowed through me like caffeine, heightening my senses and relentlessly driving me forward. Even that longing for power I could deal with, though. My biggest fear is that I’ve lost the self-confidence you told my mother about. What if what you know about me is really nothing more than some curse-induced bravado? What happens when you find out I’m not as strong as you think I am?”
He stopped walking and turned her to face him. “I knew you before we found the tool. I’ve walked beside you every step in this adventure. And I know you now. We all go through changes. I promise you. There’s nothing for you to worry about. You are an amazing person. We all find people, events, and even dogs that give us strength and make us who we want to be. At best, things only magnify what’s already there. Objects don’t change us.”
She felt the confidence building in her chest to conquer the hardest challenge of all. “I’ve trusted you with my life, with my dog—and if you’ll let me—with my heart.”
As he let go of her hands, she feared her strength would disappear into the rushing river. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her to his mouth for the kiss she had doubted would ever come. Her emotions melted into his as she pressed her body hard against him. Her arms were so tight around his neck she feared she’d strangle him.
Cheesecake jumped and barked with glee around them—wrapping them tightly together with her leash.
***
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You, Me, and the Voodoo Queen
You, Me, and the Voodoo Queen Blurb
Kendell Summer just can’t catch a break. All she wants is one good passionate kiss from her paranormal partner, Myles, but in the midst of their embrace, she hears a distress message coming from a passing paddle wheeler. Her band, Polly Urethane and the Strippers, is in trouble. Once again, she must drop everything and rush to the rescue while relying on Myles to have her back.
Unfortunately, the events that unfold while she’s saving her friends only plunge her deeper into the dreaded Malveaux curse and threaten Myles with a fate worse than death. Kendell will need everyone she trusts, including her loyal dog, Cheesecake, to help her save his soul.
***
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20
Myles only dimly noticed the light breeze off the Mississippi River and the joyous sounds of children headed to the Audubon Aquarium. Everything but Kendell faded to inconsequential background detail.
He held her tight in his arms. Her mouth tasted of the fresh strawberries and whipped cream they’d shared at the small outdoor café. Six months of dealing with the Malveaux curse, the fucking pipe tool, and the powerful Laroque family were finally in their past. They could love each other without reservation. She was his. Having confessed her love, she’d broken down the barrier they’d both maintained during their shared mission. Every part of her small, firm body pressed so hard against him he wondered how their clothing managed to separate them. Even her dog, Cheesecake, had them wrapped together in her leash. Life was good.