“Have you been to Café du Monde yet?”
“I can’t say that I have.”
She smiles and motions for me to walk with her. “Then you’re in for a treat. The fastest route is through Jackson Square, but I’d like to go another way if that’s okay.”
“Is it so you have more time with me? It’s all right, you can admit it.”
She laughs loudly. When I take her hand in mine, she doesn’t pull away. “I just have certain routes that I prefer to take through the city. It’s an OCD thing. A quirk, if you will.”
“I don’t mind quirks that keep me in your company.”
We’re quiet as she leads me down the dark streets full of loud people. Music pours from the doors of bars and restaurants. It’s a symphony of noise.
Even if I wanted to chat with her, it would be difficult. But I’m fine just walking together, holding her hand.
I can’t explain it. I barely know her, but I crave her company.
It was as if I recognized her the second I saw her.
With my background in psychology, I could probably tear into the whys and hows of that and make it incredibly not romantic.
Or, I could just enjoy it. Relax.
That’s what I’m supposed to be doing in New Orleans anyway.
“It’s just down here,” she says loudly, pointing to the end of the block. She leads me to the front of the line, and we’re offered a little, round table that has a napkin dispenser on it and nothing else. “The menu is here.”
She points to the side of the dispenser.
“But, if you trust me, I’ll order for us. Just tell me if you want hot or cold coffee.”
I cock a brow, watching as she tucks a dark strand of hair behind her ear. “Cold.”
She nods, and a woman approaches to take our order.
“We’ll have two frozen café au laits, and a family order of beignets,” Brielle says. I pay for the order, and the woman hurries off to fill it.
“So, tell me more about you,” I say.
“Actually,” Brielle says, crossing her legs and watching me closely, “why don’t you tell me about you? All I know is your name. Cash. Is that short for something?”
“It’s short for Cassien. What else would you like to know? You know I’m from Savannah.”
“What do you do for work?”
I fidget in my seat. “I work for the FBI.”
Her brows lift. “You’re an FBI agent?”
“I am.” I nod and lean back when two frozen drinks and a large plate of beignets are set before us. “I’ve been with them for about ten years.”
“What do you do for them?”
“I’m a profiler.”
“Wow, that’s fascinating,” she says and takes a bite of a donut. “Do you profile murderers? Like serial killers?”
“Sometimes.” I nod and watch as she licks some powdered sugar from her lower lip.
I want to lick that lip myself.
“Okay, that’s pretty cool, Cash. I can honestly say I’ve never met a profiler before.”
“That you know of.”
She nods. “True. Do you work out of Savannah?”
“I’m actually based in the Dallas field office, but I travel frequently, going wherever I’m needed.”
“And what are you doing in New Orleans?”
I sigh and suddenly wish the coffee were whiskey.
“I’m on mandatory leave.”
She tips her head to the side. “Did you kill someone in the line of duty?”
“No.” Not this time. “I just came off a pretty intense case. I haven’t taken a vacation in a long time, and my boss pretty much pushed me out the door. I’m not welcome back for a few weeks.”
“That’s quite a vacation.”
“Too long.” I sigh, still frustrated. “I’m not used to being idle. That’s how I found you. Andy and Felicia wanted to go out on a date the other night, and I didn’t want to sit at their place alone, so I went out and found your tour.”
“I’m glad you did,” she says quietly. “Is it weird that I feel like I’ve met you before? I barely know you. You’re a stranger. Yet, here I am, hanging out with you like we’re old friends.”
“It’s not weird, I was just thinking the same. Maybe we met in a former life or something.”
She doesn’t laugh at that. She just narrows her eyes and taps her lips, seeming to give it some thought.
“I was joking.”
“I know you were, but I suppose it’s possible.”
“Do you believe in past lives?”
Her eyes meet mine. “I believe in a lot of things, Cash. And I’m going to tell you, right here and now, even when I barely know you, that if you’d like for us to simply go our separate ways, I won’t hold it against you.”
I frown. “That feels a little dramatic.”
“It’s not.” She wipes her hands, finishing the last of her treat. “I told you the other night, I’m a complicated woman. I wasn’t kidding.”
“I suppose we’re all complicated, in our own ways. You haven’t scared me off.”
“Yet,” she whispers.
“Okay, tell me what you think would send me running?”
“I see dead people,” she says with a straight face. “It’s why I’m so good at my job. I don’t just know the lore because I studied it. Much of what I know has been told to me by the souls who experienced it themselves.”
I blink at her. I honestly don’t know what to say.
“See? Complicated.”
“How long has it been that way for you?”
“Since my earliest memories,” she says. “And, yes, it’s scary. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it entirely, but I’ve learned to live with it.”
“Being in the French Quarter must be unbearable for you.”
She tips her head to the side. “Huh. You haven’t run off yet.”
“I see no reason to go anywhere.”
“To answer your question, no, the Quarter isn’t super fun for someone like me. But I make my living here. And I take precautions.”
“What kind of precautions?”
“I think I’ve talked about myself long enough. Tell me more about you. Why the FBI?”
“Well, I got my Ph.D. in psychology and then decided to go through the academy. I always knew I wanted to work for the FBI. Maybe I read too many thrillers when I was a kid. It was a lot of studying and training. As I mentioned, I’ve been an agent for about ten years, and a profiler for five, meaning post-training.”
“Good for you. Do you enjoy it?”
“Despite some of the things I’ve seen, you mean? Yes. Because, at the end of the day, we put monsters in cages.”
“I bet you’ve seen a lot of horrible stuff.”
More horrible than you can imagine.
“You said you’re originally from the area?” I ask, changing the subject. She smiles and stands, motioning for me to follow her.
“I’ll tell you about my sordid past while you walk me home.”
“Deal.”
“I grew up out in the bayou, about an hour from the city. I have two sisters, both younger. My parents were pathetic and horrible excuses for human beings.”
“That good, huh?”
“Abusive.” She shrugs one shoulder, and I feel immediate and intense anger. I want to hurt anyone who would dare abuse this woman. “Neglect. Not to mention, we lived in the most haunted house in Louisiana, and that’s saying a lot.”
“Wow.”
“Do you believe in ghosts, Cash?”
I frown, thinking it over. “I think I like a good story. But I don’t know if I believe, to be honest, because I’ve never experienced anything paranormal.”
“Never?”
“Not that I’m aware of. I know I’ve never seen a ghost.”
“Have you ever been somewhere and, suddenly, all of the hairs on your body stand on end, and you don’t know why?”
“Sure.”
�
�Or walked into a room that suddenly feels a lot colder than any other part of the house?”
“Everyone’s felt a chill.”
She smiles up at me. “You’ve experienced things, Cash. You just didn’t know that you were experiencing them.”
“Huh.”
“Or are you one of those people who thinks things like this don’t exist?”
“I’ve seen evil,” I reply honestly. “And I’m not so close-minded that I can say there’s not something out there that we can’t see. I can’t say I’m a believer, but I think you believe it, and sometimes, that’s all that matters.”
“That’s a good answer.”
“Do you live here in the Quarter?”
“Yes.” She nods and leads me around a corner. “I have an apartment just down the street here.”
“Is it haunted?”
“Everything’s haunted. But the spirits there are calm and don’t bother me much.”
I take her hand once more, and when her fingers clench hard on mine, I frown down at her.
She stops short, staring straight ahead.
It’s like watching her the other night all over again.
“Brielle? What’s wrong?”
“This has never happened before,” she whispers, and I can see she’s starting to shake.
“Hey. Hey.” I tip her face up to mine. “I’m right here, and I won’t let anything hurt you. But you have to tell me what’s happening.”
“We have to go inside,” she says. “Will you come with me?”
“Of course.”
She’s walking fast now, almost pulling me along the sidewalk. She turns to the side as if she’s slinking past something she doesn’t want to touch, then hurries up the stairs to her apartment.
She fumbles with the lock, so I take the key from her, unlock the door, and walk in with her. She immediately slams the door, leans against it, and looks up at me with round, glassy eyes.
“Now you’re scaring me,” I inform her.
“I need my sister,” she says, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “I’m going to call for her, and while she’s on her way, I’ll tell you everything.”
“Deal.”
Her eyes are on mine as she holds the phone to her ear. “It’s me. I need you right now. I’m at home. Okay, but Cash is here, and I haven’t told him yet. See you soon.”
She hangs up, but instead of talking, she just walks right into my arms and hugs me tightly as if she’s holding on for dear life.
As if she’s pulling strength from me.
“Brielle,” I whisper and kiss the top of her head. She smells like lavender. “Talk to me.”
She pulls back and paces to the window, staring down at the street. “She’s still there. Both of them are.”
“Who? I didn’t see anyone.”
“I can’t be sure who the first one is,” she says and turns to me. “But the other one? It’s Tammy. From my tour the other night.
“She’s dead.”
Chapter Four
Brielle
I can’t find my center.
Hell, I can barely breathe.
This hasn’t happened since I was a child.
“Talk to me, Brielle,” Cash says. His hands are strong on my shoulders, his green eyes concerned but not disgusted.
“Like I said earlier, if you want to go, I understand. Because it’s about to get weird, Cash. I wish I was like normal girls, but I’m not, and I’m telling you now, you should probably go.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
I swallow hard, fighting back tears of relief and joy. If one of my sisters told me that they already trusted their life with a man they only met days ago, I’d tell them they were nuts.
But here we are. I can’t explain why or even how, but I know him already. I can feel it down in my bones that I can trust him—with even my deepest secrets.
“I told you, I see dead people.”
“Let’s sit.”
“No, I’d prefer to stand. I need to pace a bit.” I walk away and look out the window again.
No shadows.
Apparitions.
“I always see shadows,” I continue. “I’ve never been able to make out the features of the spirits I see, though.”
“Until now?” He guesses correctly.
“Until now,” I confirm. “And let me just say, it’ll scare the hell out of a girl.”
“I can only imagine.”
There’s a knock on the door, startling us both.
“It’s me!” Millie yells through the door, and I rush over to open it. “What’s wrong? Wait. Hi, I’m Millie.”
She holds out her hand for Cash to shake, which he does immediately.
“Cash.”
“I know.” Her eyes narrow as she examines him, and I know she’s sweeping his thoughts. It’s intrusive as all get out, but she’s my sister, and that makes her protective. “I like you.”
“I feel like I was just given a test that I didn’t prepare for.”
“You were,” Millie confirms. “You passed. Now,”—she turns to me again—“talk to me.”
“So, I saw that new shadow the other night.”
Millie nods.
“Well, just before I called you, I saw something else that’s new. Not just a new shadow. An apparition.”
She blinks rapidly. “As in, you saw their features?”
“Yes.” I nod and then start pacing the living area again. “For both of them. The first one, the one I saw the other night, isn’t a shadow anymore. Now, there are two. Girls. And one is from my tour the night I met Cash.”
Millie slowly lowers herself to the couch, perching on the edge of it, watching me with wide, brown eyes. “They must be trying to communicate with you.”
“Their mouths were moving.” It comes out as a whisper, and a shiver slithers down my spine. “But I couldn’t hear what they were saying.”
“Wait.” Millie holds up her hand, her eyes wider than before. “This means they’re following you, Bri.”
“Yeah.” I sigh and rub my fingertips over my forehead. “Yeah, that started the other night.”
“You didn’t say anything,” Millie says.
“To either of us,” Cash adds, his hands balling into fists at his sides.
“Well, to be fair, this is our first date,” I remind him, but he doesn’t laugh. He just narrows his eyes at me.
“It’s a hell of a first date,” Millie mumbles. “I mean, most people just get naked and have sex and then regret their life choices in the morning. This is on a whole different level.”
I smirk and then shrug. “The night’s not over yet.”
“This isn’t funny,” Cash says, slowly shaking his head. “You’re being terrorized by the dead, Brielle.”
“Sometimes it’s either laugh or cry, and I don’t want to cry,” I admit. “Trust me, I’ve cried over crap like this all my life.”
“There has to be a way to shut it off,” he mutters as if he’s thinking aloud. “Hypnosis? It’s not my area of expertise, but I have friends—”
“I’m thirty.” I prop my hands on my hips. “Trust me, we’ve tried everything to at least tone it down. It just is what it is, and I’ve learned to deal with it. That’s why I have certain routes I take through the Quarter. No surprises. I chose this apartment because the spirits here are quiet. I don’t travel much. I have a routine, Cash, and it’s worked well for me.”
“Until today,” Millie says softly. “We need to find out what these girls want and send them on their way so you can get back to a somewhat normal life again. You know what happened the last time.”
“Wait, this has happened before?” Cash demands. My eyes are pinned on my sister’s.
“Not the apparitions. This is brand new,” I reply. “But the following has happened before. I’ll tell you about it later.” I turn back to my sister. “I need for them to go away,” I agree. “Because I’m afraid I can’t give them what they want. Whatever it is th
ey need.”
“We don’t know if we don’t know,” Millie says. “I can open myself up and feel them for you if you want, since you can’t hear them.”
“No,” I say immediately, rushing to her and taking her shoulders in my hands. “Do not do that, Millicent. I’m not giving you permission to do that.”
“Okay, I won’t.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
“I’m missing something.”
We both turn to Cash, who watches us intently.
“If she opens herself up and crawls into the mind of a spirit, there’s a good chance she won’t walk back out again,” I inform him. “Millie is a powerful psychic.”
“I’m a witch, too,” she says proudly.
“Does everyone in the family have these,”—he waves his hand in the air—“gifts?”
“Just the sisters,” I reply. “Daphne is the youngest, and she’s psychometric. She touches objects and sees the past through them.”
“Fascinating,” he says.
“Honestly, I’m shocked he hasn’t run away screaming yet,” Millie says to me. “Or called the cops.”
“He is the cops,” I say with a shrug. “FBI profiler.”
“A profiler?” She stands and walks to him. “So, you’re a psychiatrist?
“I am,” he confirms.
“May I?”
“Sure.”
She takes his hand, looks deeply into his eyes, and after about fifteen seconds, leans in to give him a gentle hug.
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He hugs her in return and smiles when she pulls away. “I’m not running, Millie. I’m confused, intrigued, and completely entranced by your sister. I’m worried, as well. And, frankly, I want to hurt anyone that would even dare to try and hurt her.”
“Really like him,” Millie says to me with a grin. “If you don’t scoop him up, I will.”
“He’s not meant for you.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “No, he’s not.”
“So, what now?” Cash asks. “What do we do now?”
“There’s nothing to do yet,” I reply. “I freaked out a bit because this is all new, but we don’t have anything to act on.”
“Two women are dead,” he reminds us. “We have to call the authorities and get an investigation underway. I have contacts here, I can call—”
Shadows: A Bayou Magic Novel Page 3