Shadows of Bourbon Street

by Deanna Chase

  I filled her in on the details, leaving nothing out. Curiously, she chose the tidbit about Coven Pointe to focus on. “Bea is at war with another coven? That seems…unlikely.”

  “I don’t know, Mom. No one ever mentioned them. I thought I knew all the witches in town.”

  “Some wounds run deep.” Gwen sipped her coffee. “If the feud has been going on that long, it could involve anything.”

  “Very true.” Mom grabbed a diet soda from the fridge and headed toward the door. “I’m going to work on taking down the decorations so you don’t have to stare at everything for now. Let me know when you need me for anything.”

  The door swung closed behind her, then slammed open again as Shelia stormed into the kitchen. “What’s going on in here? I thought this was a party? Kane, get the crawfish boil going. Damn, I’m going to starve.” She bypassed the multiple trays and chafing dishes and yanked the refrigerator door open. An instant later she had the fixings for another hurricane all spread out on the counter.

  I slumped in my chair. I had to get out of there. She was too much.

  Kane strode over to her and pulled the rum from her hands. “Maybe you should pace yourself, Mother.”

  She froze and stared at him dumbfounded for a moment. Then she yanked the alcohol back in defiance. “How dare you embarrass me in front of your friends?” Her tone was a loud whisper we all could hear.

  “I think you’re doing just fine on your own. In any case, if you want to keep drinking, be my guest. Drink yourself into a stupor if you want to. I don’t give a shit. Just don’t vomit on our furniture.”

  My mouth fell open in shock. I knew their relationship was strained, but I hadn’t known about the hostility. Kane never talked about it. I could see why. I’d spent a significant amount of my life without my mother around, but it hadn’t been her choice. Kane’s mom had not only abandoned him but clearly had addiction issues. My heart swelled with admiration for the man he’d become despite his parents.

  “Kane?” I said.

  He tore his angry gaze from his drunk of a mother and looked at me. “Let’s go. We have work to do.”

  Chapter 5

  Filled with gratitude for all they were doing for us, we said a quick goodbye to our friends. On our way out, I gestured to Lailah to follow us outside. She was still talking with Bea and had been frantically taking notes on a napkin.

  At the car, she handed me her phone. “Bea wants to talk to you.”

  Hope pushed away some of my turmoil. My mentor never let me down. “Bea, thank the Goddess.”

  “Jade, dear, I’m so sorry about the wedding.”

  A stab of irritation pierced me in the gut. I appreciated the sentiment, I really did. But it was dammed hard not to wallow in pity when everyone wanted to mention it. “We’ll reschedule,” I said evenly. “Right now, Mati is more important. Please tell me you have something for me.”

  “Not a lot, I’m afraid. Lailah said she already advised you to find her soul guardian. I don’t know if that will help, but you can try.” She sighed into the phone. “The Coven Pointe witches use a different form of magic than we do. Their spells come from a different source, so figuring out what we can do to help Mati is going to prove difficult, if not downright impossible.”

  “What do you mean, different?”

  She hesitated.

  “Bea? Is all of this really about some dude?”

  “What?” There was genuine shock in her voice. “How did you get that idea?”

  “Mati said that’s why the two covens don’t mix. That this all started over some man.”

  She laughed, a high-pitched tinkling sound. “Now, that’s funny. If Dayla is spouting that story, then she’s truly deluded.”

  Dayla. Mati’s aunt and her coven leader. I was extremely curious about what had really gone down. But now wasn’t the time. “Do you have any information that might help? Or a place to start?”

  She hesitated. Then she took a deep breath. “I think you should go to Dayla in Coven Pointe. The best course of action is to restore Mati’s powers. But you can only get that from one of her ancestors. Or more likely a few of them. They should have some sort of spell for that. You’ll need to get them to trust you with their magic, though. And that will be the tough part. They aren’t going to like giving you any of their power.”

  I could see why. If someone I didn’t know asked me to give up some of my power, I’d be downright hostile about it. Who knew what they’d do with it? But I had to agree. If Mati could use her own power to cross back over, that would be best. “Am I going to be welcome there?” If our covens were in some crazy war—one no one even understood—what was I going to be walking into?

  “Probably not. Tell them Chessandra sent you.”

  It sounded pretty simple. Just go get her power, restore her magic, and have her blast herself out. Right. Nothing was that easy. Not ever. And likely whatever spell they gave me would have consequences. They always did. “All right. But if one of them turns me into an ashtray, I expect you to come for me.”

  “Ashtray?”

  “Yeah. An ashtray. Like those horrible metal ones kids make in school.”

  “Uh…all right, dear.” I could tell by her resistant tone she thought I’d lost my mind.

  I laughed, realizing she was probably right. “They are the ugliest things ever. I’m just saying I don’t want to live life as a tin box smelling like tar and ash. That’s all.”

  “I think you’re safe,” she said, chuckling. “But I promise I’ll save you from eternal ash. Call me after you speak to her. Lailah has the address and a few notes.”

  “Thanks.” After ending the call, I handed Lailah her phone and took the directions from her. “Kane and I are off to deal with the other witches. Why did no one tell me about them?”

  She shrugged. “They keep to themselves and so do we. It can sometimes be hard to coexist with another coven. Mostly it’s best to just ignore each other if each one doesn’t want to make waves.”

  I stared at her dubiously. “Seriously?”

  “Yes. I never mentioned them because I honestly don’t think about them much. Bea is one of my assignments, as are you. I’m worried about what you two are up to. Not the coven across the river. As long as they aren’t corrupting souls, I really don’t care what they do.”

  Well, as long as they weren’t corrupting souls. Alrighty then.

  Kane placed a hand on the small of my back and led me to the passenger side of his Lexus. “It doesn’t sound like I’m going to like this.”

  I turned into him, his fresh rain scent so familiar and comforting. “Do you ever?”

  Brushing his lips over my temple, he murmured, “I like you.”

  That made me smile. “Good thing, Mr. Rouquette.”

  He tilted his head and leaned in, catching my lower lip between his. My fingers curled in his shirt as I pulled him closer and kissed him. It was a bittersweet moment, the two of us standing in front of Summer House, in the place we should have been leaving to go on our honeymoon. We broke apart, staring at each other for a moment. Then Kane said, “Italy will still be there.”

  I chuckled humorlessly. “It’s lasted this long.”

  “There you go.” He brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen from my fancy updo. “Ready?”

  I shook my head no but walked to the car anyway. He followed and opened the door for me. I waved at Lailah, who had retreated to the front porch to give us privacy. “I’ll call you as soon as we know anything.”

  She nodded and disappeared back into the house.

  Kane joined me in the car and within minutes we were back on the highway headed to the Pointe.

  ***

  “Did we take a wrong turn?” I eyed the rough neighborhood, taking in the decaying homes. One was being overtaken by vegetation, vines invading it from all
sides. Rusted bars covered the windows and the porch sagged, appearing moments from collapsing. I would have thought it abandoned if it hadn’t been for the woman standing in the doorway side-eyeing us. She wore gold hot pants, a skin-tight black cami tank top, and black slippers.

  We came to a four-way stop behind a late-eighties souped-up Buick low-rider. Kane glanced at the GPS in the dash and shook his head. “No. This road leads us to the Pointe. But maybe we should’ve taken a different route.”

  I glanced back at the woman taking a long drag of a cigarette. She pulled a phone from her back pocket and hit a button.

  A moment later the front door to the house next to her swung open. A large Hispanic man stepped onto his own decaying porch, wearing jeans and a gun belt, complete with a sidearm. No shoes or shirt. Tattoos covered most of his upper body. Oh, crap. We needed to get the hell out of here. Obviously we’d accidentally wandered into gang territory.

  I lowered my gaze and took in the obvious luxury of the Lexus Kane drove. This was not good. Magic tingled in my chest and rushed to my fingertips just in case.

  “It’ll be fine,” Kane said. But from the corner of my eye I saw more men pile out of the house, most of them armed. One had some sort of glass pipe he was lighting up.

  “Uh, Kane.” My nerves made my voice shake slightly.

  “I see them.” He tightened his grip on the wheel and frowned at the Buick in front of us. The car just sat there, a faint trail of smoke streaming from its tailpipe. No other cars in sight.

  “They’re waiting to see what we’ll do,” I said.

  He took a look in the rearview mirror and swore when he saw a black SUV coming up behind him. “Time to go.” He swerved out from behind the Buick and peeled out.

  As we squealed by, the hooded driver raised what appeared to be a gun and aimed.

  I flattened my hand to the car window and shouted, “Tego Texi Tectum!”

  A round of gunfire sounded through the streets, and bullets rained over the car, bouncing off my protection spell. Holy cripes. That was ugly. And for no reason. We’d just been driving, albeit in a car worth three times more than my annual salary. That wasn’t saying much. I was a glass artist who also worked at a cafe.

  I started to tremble as Kane maneuvered the car through the uneven roads. Wrapping my arms around my torso, I did my best to get myself under control. It wasn’t as if I’d never been in a dangerous situation before, but those times had usually involved demons, ghosts, or evil magic. Since I was a newcomer to New Orleans, straight from the quiet state of Idaho, I’d never been threatened by a random stranger before, much less because I just happened to be driving down the wrong street.

  A few minutes later, we turned onto a gorgeous tree-lined street flanked by a sign that said, Welcome to Coven Pointe, Est. 1719. The blight and crime had disappeared, replaced by well-kept homes and gardens.

  “Whoa,” I said. “I’ve can’t believe we went from a war zone to this.”

  Kane nodded. “I haven’t been over here in a long time. Looks like the bad part of town has gotten worse.” His house was in the French Quarter. Just a short ferry ride away, but since he worked on the east bank, he wouldn’t have much reason to come over here. He glanced at me, worry in his deep brown eyes. “You okay?”

  “I will be.” I sucked in a breath and willed myself to calm down. “Dealing with evil spirits is one thing. But guns? Yeah, I don’t need that. Tell me there’s a safer way to get back.”

  “There has to be.” He placed a hand on my knee and, still staring straight ahead, said, “Thank God for you, Jade. That was an impressive bit of magic you used back there.”

  I covered his hand with mine. “Great driving, too.”

  His lips turned up into a ghost of a smile. “Thanks. But let’s not do that again.”

  “Deal.”

  A few blocks down we turned right onto Olivier. The closer we moved toward the river, the nicer the houses got. “Slow down,” I said. “I think it’s that one on the left.”

  Kane pulled over in front of a large Victorian home and killed the engine. We both peered across the street. The house was a double shotgun, not unlike Kane’s. But this one was set on a double lot and the yard was impeccably maintained. Perfectly trimmed ivy framed the steps leading up to the home, and violas and pansies in purple, yellow, and pink lined the sidewalk.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  “Sure.”

  Kane and I crossed the quiet street. The sun was out, and a couple passed us walking a golden retriever and a lab. They smiled and waved. My thoughts jumped to Duke, my ghost dog. I was going to have to find a way to move him to our place in the French Quarter. It would be nice to have a dog around. One who didn’t shed or make a mess.

  “This is a great neighborhood,” I said as Kane and I climbed the ivy-framed steps.

  “It’s nicer than I remember.” He pressed the doorbell.

  I glanced around at the neighboring houses. They were mostly shotgun doubles or camelbacks, but there were a few Victorians and Greek Revivals mixed in. “I like it here.”

  Kane slipped his arms around me, holding me from behind. I leaned into him and then stepped away. This was a business call, after all.

  The door swung open and an older woman—mid-sixties, maybe—dressed in beige linen pants and a royal blue silk blouse peered at us. “Can I—”

  A loud boom rumbled overhead and heavy storm clouds appeared out of nowhere.

  “Witch!” the woman cried as her pupils dilated until her irises disappeared. Her hand came up, magic sparking like a fireball.

  “Wait!” I tried to grasp the magic in my chest, but it was too late. A blast of magic shot from her outstretched hand, knocking Kane and me off the porch.

  “Ouch!” I cried as I landed on my side, holding my hands up ready to attack. But the door was shut and the witch had disappeared. “Shit. What was that for?”

  Kane scrambled to his feet and reached a hand down to help me up.

  “Are you okay?” I asked him.

  He nodded but kept his gaze straight ahead at the house in front of us that now had half a dozen ravens flying around it.

  Blood trickled down my arm. I scowled. It hurt. But worse than that, I couldn’t leave my blood lying around where another witch might be able to get it. I spun toward the car and then froze. “Uh, Kane?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Have you seen this?” Holding my injured arm to my body, I jerked my head toward his Lexus.

  He turned and swore. “Son of a bitch.” The entire car was glowing. We walked tentatively toward it and then around it.

  “Oh my God.” I clasped a hand over my mouth, my body turning cold as ice. On the passenger’s side there were five round spots that glowed brighter than the rest of the car. “That must be where the bullets hit.” One of them was right in the middle of the passenger window. If I hadn’t been fast enough with my protection spell, it would’ve likely hit me in the head.

  Kane grasped my wrist and jerked me to him, holding me tight against his chest. He was trembling.

  I wasn’t doing that great myself.

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” he whispered in my ear.

  I nodded against him, hating that we had the evidence of just how close we’d come to a true disaster.

  “You should leave,” a female voice said from behind us.

  Kane tightened his hold on me, but I pushed back gently and turned to find another woman standing with her arms crossed over her chest. I guessed she was in her mid-forties. She wore a long cotton skirt and a formfitting T-shirt. Very bohemian.

  “I don’t think you really want us to,” I said, trying to keep the defensiveness out of my tone. Regardless of being blasted off the porch, I needed to get these people to talk to me. “Chessandra sent me.”

  The woman’s eyes dilated just like the first
woman’s had. “Chessandra is not welcome here either.”

  Distrust rippled through the air, and I could sense the magic building in her.

  “Please,” I said, holding Kane behind me. His agitation bombarded me, causing my skin to prickle. One more magical outburst from these witches and he was going to lose his cool, if not physically then at least verbally. I needed him to dial it down a notch. If any of them were intuitives, they could read his defensive mood, and that wouldn’t help.

  I gathered a tiny bit of my own calm energy and pressed it into the palm of his hand. He stirred behind me and let out a tiny grunt of displeasure when he realized what I’d done. Still, his rigid body relaxed slightly, and I knew my magic had done what I’d needed it to do.

  “We need to talk to Dayla. It’s about Matisse,” I said to the witch.

  Her pupils constricted slightly and the brilliant blue of her irises glowed, similar to Kane’s car. Whoa. These witches did have some weird powers.

  “You know where Mati is?” There was hope shining through the skepticism swirling around her.

  “I spoke with her this afternoon.” I clutched my arm to my T-shirt, trying to stop my blood from dripping on the pavement.

  I was about to elaborate on where Mati was, but the witch asked, “Where?”

  “She’s in another dimension.”

  “Bring her to us immediately. Then we can talk.” She started to stride down the street toward the large Victorian house.

  “Wait!” I let go of Kane and ran to catch up with her, wincing at the pain shooting down my arm. “I’m here for information and to help if that’s at all possible.”

  She stilled and then turned slowly. Magic crackled around her. She pressed her hands together as if to keep her power contained.

  I stopped and held my hands up. “We mean no harm. Honestly.”

  She glanced at Kane’s car. “Your magic is strong.”

  Was that a question? I assumed it was. “Yes. I’m a white witch. That—” I gestured to the car “—is because we ran into some trouble on the way here. I was only trying to protect us.” I frowned. “I don’t know why it’s glowing all of a sudden. It didn’t happen until after we were tossed off the porch.”