BD swore and reached for the necklace. “Blue Eyes, this is not good.”
“None of this is.” Bethany noted Gabriel’s half-naked body and sleep-tousled hair and sighed heavily. “I don’t mean to join the mad mob here, but I have to ask. Angelique is too important. Did you black out again?”
He felt the others staring in judgment. Angelique’s friends no doubt thought he was a drunk, or a lunatic. But he just avoided them and shook his head, his expression earnest. “No. I had total control of it this time. I swear to Christ, Bethany. I fell asleep with her in my arms. That’s the last thing I remember.”
The doubt coming at him from all sides was taking an almost physical form. More shadows. It ate at him, made him doubt himself. What if he had hurt her? How could he have taken that kind of chance, being with her after having taken in even the smallest amount of darkness?
Maybe he’d been too rough and she hadn’t said anything, leaving after he’d fallen asleep. Or maybe she hadn’t liked what he’d let Emmanuel do to her.
Or had his nightmare come true?
“Emmanuel. He was here for some of last night. He could tell you.” Gabriel looked around, expecting to see the guardian who’d shared in Angelique’s pleasure appear in the already crowded room.
Celestin sneered. “Blackouts? Has he been drinking again along with everything else, BD? And why the hell is he calling for Emmanuel? What—does he think he can see ghosts now?”
Gabriel refused to acknowledge Angelique’s brother. “Manny, you get your ass in this room right now.” His voice was hoarse with worry. “Don’t fuck around. This isn’t about you; it’s about her. Where is Angelique?”
He felt crazy. He was crazy. He’d pushed her away again and again. Wanting to save her from what he’d become, wanting to save himself from having to watch her crush turn to disgust when she saw him for what he really was.
Now all he wanted was her. He loved her. And she was the only damn person in Louisiana not in this hotel room. The only person who might believe him if he said those words. Who might say them back.
Bethany touched his arm lightly. “Emmanuel had me look into something he said she had. Something she shouldn’t have. That might explain this; I don’t know. I do know with all of us looking, we’ll find her.” Her blue eyes, so like her brother’s, shone with compassion. “I believe you, Gabriel.”
“Well, I don’t.” Celestin came after him again but Ben intercepted him, swearing as his cell phone started to ring in his pocket. Everyone froze.
He reached for it and swiftly put it to his ear. “Any news? Thank God.” He paused, his expression going from relief to concern as he studied the other people in the room. “I understand. I love you, too. Hang in there, Mimi.”
Everyone started talking at once, but Ben ignored them and pulled his fist back, sending a short but power-packed punch into Gabriel’s jaw.
“Fuck.” Was everyone going to punch him?
He landed hard on the floor, cupping his jaw, while Ben stood over him and Celestin just looked stunned. It hurt, but the pain was nothing compared to the fear that wound around his heart.
“Angelique is at Mambo Toussaint’s,” Ben announced in a clipped voice.
Bethany knelt down to help Gabriel up. “They found her? Then why did you hit him?”
Ben crossed his arms, his expression unapologetic. “It’s a family thing. Someone was going to do it. Better me than Rousseau.” He smirked. “He hits harder.”
“No rules saying I won’t still have my turn.” Celestin’s tone had lost some of its anger and his eyes reflected the same relief Gabriel felt.
In fact, Gabriel’s own knees were weak with the feeling. “Then she’s okay?”
“In a minute.” Ben turned to the two women who were clinging to each other, watching the exchange in silent fascination. He placed one hand on each of their shoulders. “Ive? Kelly? Angelique is fine. She will be fine. The best thing you can do for her right now is to go home. We have a family situation, but once that’s resolved, I’ll make sure she calls you. Understand?”
Ive looked into Ben’s eyes for a long moment, then nodded. “Come on, Kelly, get your things.”
Kelly resisted. “I don’t have the best feeling about this. Shouldn’t we—”
“No.”
“But can’t we just—”
Ive grabbed her friend’s hand. “No. She’s not dead, she’s not missing, and she’s with family. A magical, secretive family who doesn’t think we could help our best friend out of whatever it is that she’s involved in.” She looked at Kelly meaningfully. “The voodoo police have arrived.”
Kelly glared at Ben. “Well, I don’t like it.”
Ive gathered their scattered clothes and makeup bags from the bathroom. “I don’t, either, but now is not the time.”
Celestin smiled when the two women walked up to hug him each in turn. “Angelique is lucky to have friends like you.”
The echoed “We know” had Gabriel looking on in bemusement.
Ive hustled Kelly toward the door, looking over her shoulder at Gabriel. “Take care of our girl. And if you ever make her cry again, you and the most interesting parts of your anatomy will have to answer to me.”
The other men cringed beside him, but Gabriel nodded. “I won’t. I promise.” It was one he intended to keep. Or die trying.
When they left, everyone turned to Ben.
“What’s wrong?”
“Angelique is at Mambo Toussaint’s . . . and so are the others.”
BD tilted his head, on high alert. “Which others?”
“The Mambo, Allegra . . . my mother and my wife. And the way she told us to come over, BD. I don’t know. Something is very wrong.”
BD gripped the cross tighter in his hand. “Something is very wrong, Benjamin. Too many coincidences. All of them centered around Gabriel and Angelique.”
The tone of BD’s voice set Gabriel in motion. “You don’t believe in coincidence. And neither do I anymore. Let me grab my shirt and we’ll get—” He bent down to pick it up off the floor and stilled. “Out of here.”
The carpet beneath his bare feet had turned to cobblestone. The sound of a brass band nearby came to him on a sweet breeze, along with an aroma so mouthwatering that Gabriel’s stomach rumbled.
He looked up. Blinked. Looked again. He was alone on a side street in the French Quarter. No friends in sight. No hotel room.
He slipped his shirt on, not bothering with the buttons as he studied the buildings around him, trying to understand what he was seeing.
This was no blackout.
It was New Orleans. Only it wasn’t. The streets were too clean, the paint too fresh, the sky too blue. Hell, even the scavenging pigeons seemed to glow with a pure, unreal kind of light. This was a romanticized version of the Crescent City.
A dream?
“Emmanuel?” Gabriel turned slowly, looking for someone, anyone, who could explain this to him.
“Manny, if you’re messing with me—”
A little African American boy dressed in a short-panted suit that looked like something out of the nineteenth century was standing at the edge of the street. He was looking directly at Gabriel.
The noise of the trombones and trumpets grew as the band he’d been hearing began to march and dance in unison past the child. The whole scene was disturbingly surreal.
“Hello? Can you see me, kid? Do you know where I am? Do you know Emmanuel?”
The boy’s dark, soulful eyes continued staring. He didn’t move, didn’t react. Gabriel’s eyebrows lowered. Had he not heard him?
When the last of the small parade of players passed, the child smiled, pointing down the street in the direction they’d gone. And then he ran after them.
“Really?” He looked up and raised his voice. “Follow the band? That’s the only clue I get?”
His angry stride ate up the ground beneath him, heedless of the stones digging into his heels. “Son of a bitch. I don’t have t
ime for this. Not that I know what this is.” He shouted at the backs of the jazz band preceding him. “Do I need to sing it? Angelique may need me. I. Don’t. Have. Time for this.”
No one was listening. He kept walking, feeling like he was heading to his own funeral. Maybe he was dead. If so, they were marching him in the wrong direction. Uptown.
He thought about the last few weeks. How much had changed since he’d come home. Other than everybody and their older brothers punching him, it hadn’t been bad. Hell, it had been fucking fantastic. At least, whenever Angelique was around.
He could see a future now. Maybe he even wanted it. One where he had people in his life he could count on. Where he was somebody someone else could count on.
Angelique.
She was the piece holding all of that together. Without her, he knew, it wouldn’t work. God knew why she wanted him. What she’d seen when she looked at him that he couldn’t. He didn’t deserve her, but he was just bastard enough not to care.
He stopped walking and stood in the middle of the emptying street. “I’m not playing this game. I need to get out of here, now.”
He grabbed a handful of rocks from the ground and turned to face the perfect, empty candy shop. Complete with large glass window. “Let me the fuck out or I will start messing up your pretty little world!”
An ethereal female voice stayed his hand. “No need, Gabriel. We have always liked your energy and enthusiasm, misguided though it may be, but we’d rather not have to clean up any more messes today.”
Gabriel turned, closing his fingers over the stones instead of dropping them. “Am I dead?”
It was a question he was suddenly taking more seriously. How else could he explain the threesome that had appeared before him?
Two women, both long-haired beauties with perfect bow mouths and skin that practically glowed in the sunlight. Identical in every way but the differing colors of their antebellum gowns and parasols. They stood on either side of an old black man with a white beard, a straw hat, and a walking stick. And they were all smiling at him.
Dead or dreaming. He wasn’t sure which.
The old man chuckled. “You’re not dead or dreaming, son. You’re a Toussaint.”
Gabriel was thoroughly confused. “Well, I’m kind of new at being one, though I’ll admit you do look familiar. Can you give me a break and let me in on the joke?”
“Of course I look familiar.” He tipped his hat jauntily on the side of his head. “You’ve seen me before . . . and you will again. More important, you’ve seen these lovely ladies. Unforgettable in every way.”
He stepped back and bowed as if to present the women at his side. They giggled.
“Flatterer.” The one in blue blushed.
“Rogue.” The one in green batted her thick eyelashes at the older man.
Gabriel’s mouth formed the words before he’d realized he was saying them. “The Marassa Twins?” That would make the old man . . . No. No, it couldn’t be. The keeper of the crossroads ? The being who had helped Ben find his sister in time to save her when the djab had possessed him?
“Got it in one.” Papa Legba smiled. “They told me you were clever. You just got yourself lost on the road, is all. To be fair, some of the losing wasn’t your fault. Luckily you’ve had some help to get you right again.”
Emmanuel? “You sent him to me.”
“Not me. I am not authorized to make those kinds of arrangements.” His expression was enigmatic. “Emmanuel and I are working toward the same end, though I didn’t send him. We both wanted you to find your way home for our own reasons.” He looked up as if talking to the sky. “Only Bondye, the good god, knows the reason why we couldn’t work together.”
Papa Legba huffed. “He’s a good boy, that Manuel, and I feel for him. I surely do . . . but he’s got a bit more time to find his way. And he has been helping—he’s helping now. But it’s you we’re here to talk about.”
The Loa. He was talking to the keeper of the crossroads and the Loa twins who’d had made his sister bon ange. “Why? I mean, why now?”
After all this time. After all he’d been through. Italy. Father Leon. The djab. Why were they talking to him now?
The old man’s smile carried a tinge of sadness. “Would you have listened, child? Would you have even heard us?” He shook his head as though he already knew the answer. “The bad is always easier to believe than the good. Because of that, it took something as dark as that djab, took what almost happened that day, to get past all the walls you built up around yourself. Around your gift.”
What was he saying? That he’d had it all along? Bullshit.
The woman in blue slid back her parasol and looked into his eyes. “A male Toussaint, rare indeed. A twin to a bon ange as well. He would need a powerful gift to protect the sister who sees, to protect the people he loves. A child wouldn’t be able to handle that kind of power. It would only come to him as he grew, strong and secure in the knowledge that there is light as well as dark. Love as well as hate. And how to use them both in balance.”
Her twin in green began to speak as soon as she was done. “That kind of power would have to be balanced carefully; its foundation is in love so it couldn’t be used to destroy and snuff out the light in the world. Used for war or vengeance. Or used against the user himself.”
Gabriel backed away, shaking his head. “It never came to me. I didn’t grow up knowing light and love. I grew up believing you were all just demonic illusions. That my sister was evil. I didn’t protect her; I almost—”
“We know, child. We know. But now so do you.” Papa Legba patted the women’s hands comfortingly and stepped away from them. He moved closer to Gabriel and lowered his voice. “Isn’t that what you were just thinking? That maybe you could get past your past? What is true for you is true for everyone walking your world; if you close yourself off to love out of fear or hurt or pride, you block everything that comes with it. The blessings of your family, your gifts, your strengths. The light.”
The old man looked down at his open palm and made a fist. “Everyone around you has been telling you the same thing. Bitterness doesn’t make you strong. It shuts itself up tight in the dark, keeping you from seeing what you could be. What you should be.” He opened his fingers. “Love is your key. Love makes the light break through the darkness. She is your light, destined for you as surely as the sun is destined to rise.”
The kindness and understanding in the Loa’s bright eyes tightened Gabriel’s throat with emotion. Love was his key. He’d known it. Loving Angelique set him free.
“Angelique.” He gripped the old man’s shoulders and looked at the women behind him. “I need to get back. Do you know what’s happening? Where she is?”
The three laughed politely and Gabriel’s expression turned rueful. “Stupid question. I sincerely apologize. Can you tell me? Is Angelique in trouble?”
“Bethany knows.” The woman in green smiled. “Ask her about the locket.” Her expression sobered. “And yes. Your Angelique is in trouble. More than she should have been. The others have gotten desperate. No innocent was allowed to be brought in. We suspect foul play.”
“Foul play? The others?”
Gabriel watched Papa Legba catch her eye meaningfully and she sighed. “We did not offer this power lightly. Toussaints have always been loyal and powerful believers, worthy of our gifts. Your family is a force of healing and good in the world. You can be, too. But not all the Mysteries believed a mortal could handle such power. Deserved the power. Still others desired it to be used for a darker end, which is not what we intended at all.” She took a breath, obviously distraught at the idea. “Those others believe if Angelique’s influence is removed, you would never be able to control your gift. Never find balance. And they could use you for their own purposes. Or watch you destroy yourself.”
Papa Legba patted his shoulder consolingly. “They don’t know how strong Toussaints are.”
Gabriel stepped back abruptly. “No d
isrespect intended, but why do I suddenly feel like a piece on a fucking chessboard? Isn’t this my life? Don’t I get a say? And what does Angelique’s influence have to do with any of it?”
Papa Legba soothed the woman beside him, shaking his head at Gabriel. “Careful, boy. There are things in this world you don’t understand, nations and families of Loa who rarely see eye to eye, but you have one thing right. It is your choice. You’ve always had it. The Marassa offer you a gift, but whether you use it for good or evil is up to you. There will be choices down the road, important choices and powerful consequences. Consequences that affect everyone. Even here. But today’s, I think, is the most important choice for you. You love her.”
It wasn’t a question. “Yes, I do.”
The old man nodded. “If she were lost and made to suffer, you would seek revenge?”
“Yes.”
He sighed sadly. “Then they would win. They have been there all your life, boy. Poking holes in your heart and shaking your faith. The last thing they wanted was for you to come home, to find her. Find love. Those meddlers always lusted for battle and destruction, and that has its time and place, but they are wrong about you. You are no Dark Messenger. Not Gabriel Toussaint. I have faith in you. And I know you can save her.”
Save her from what? The locket? Angry Loa? He felt like falling to his knees in pain, ready to beg them. “Please, you have to send me back. I have to help her.”
Papa Legba backed away from him slowly. “Yes, you do. In fact, I’m afraid you’re the only one who can. They made sure of it. They don’t think you’re strong enough yet, and that is their mistake. They think they’ll win. It’s also why we made sure you came here first.”
What? If he had to sacrifice himself, he would. “Anything. Tell me what to do.”
The two women shared a look and then began to walk toward him simultaneously. He couldn’t move. His feet felt as though they were glued to the street. What were they doing to him?
He heard Papa Legba’s voice over the rushing sound in his ears. “They give you again what was yours from birth, Gabriel. Light and dark. Love and hate. You can see it all now. See it . . . and use it if there is a need. Use it to protect your family. For Angelique.”
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