Landon cleared his throat, grimacing at Gabney in a cursory look. Gabney studied the insides of her teacup.
Ms. Cammie peered at Trevor. “Who are you again, my dear? I don’t think I quite understand the connection.”
Angelica glared at Trevor. “He’s a college friend of mine visiting.”
Thirteen years ago, Ms. Cammie Dubois had spackled her face with the same make up with her hair combed back and hair sprayed in a curl. Being only a child back then, Angelica had grown into a different look today. She hoped it was enough not to be recognized.
Serena mumbled. “Questioning her loyalty, no doubt.”
“Because gossip is so reliable,” Angelica responded, for a moment forgetting Trevor’s existence. She glanced at him after and noticed how intently he listened. As a player in a con, he’d learned never to reveal his ignorance. A lesson she’d taught him herself.
Landon cleared his throat and tapped his cane on the wooden floor. “Enough. Ms. Cammie, I assume you’d like your old suite on the third floor.”
“Oh, of course, John.” Ms. Cammie studied them. Angelica could feel her doubt at the level of protection offered here. “I think everyone should stay here until the murders end.”
Angelica shuddered. Another woman had been murdered last night. Angelica had awoken in cold sweats as she’d watched the girl’s body break as she’d hung in the air. Again, she’d felt him coming from behind, but the woman had not. The sun had nearly broken the horizon this time, the cloaked individual becoming more brazen. She wondered if it were Kline, and again questioned herself if keeping the secret was the right choice.
“Is that why you’ve been here?” Trevor’s eyes widened with his familiar grin. “Shoot, girl, why don’t we stay here then? I’m not looking to be murdered in New Orleans.”
Landon smiled, but it never reached the coldness of his eyes. “Angelica is welcome to stay here, but our guests must be invited first.”
Angelica stood at the same instant Gabney stood. Gabney smiled, the laugh reaching her eyes. “I must excuse myself. I have a paper to prepare.”
Angelica smiled, avoiding Ms. Cammie’s eyes. “I’m going to walk Trevor out.”
Trevor stretched out his legs out. “I’m not ready to leave.”
“Now, Trevor.”
Trevor chuckled, but followed her to the door.
Angelica waited until out of earshot before she turned on him. “Are you crazy? What are you doing?”
“I want in on the action.” He grinned his huge goofy grin. “It’s not fair to leave me out.”
“Trevor.” Angelica gathered herself and attempted to push down her frustration. “I told you I’m not doing a job. This is not a scheme.”
“But look at this house.” Trevor looked around. “The guy must be loaded, and he looks like he could croak any minute.”
“Do you even hear yourself?” Angelica studied him in disbelief.
“You’re good.” Trevor laughed. “I almost believed you cared.”
“I could hit you right now.” Angelica strained against the intense anger shooting through her. She didn’t want to throw him into the air accidently. “My mother thought of him as a father. This is personal.”
“Oh.” His face crumpled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Hey, it’s not my fault. I come down here, and you’ve never spent any time with me, and you’ve been over here. I just figured I’d get in on it, and it’d be like old times.”
Angelica released a deep breath. “I don’t want it to be like old times. I don’t want to do the con anymore. I tried to tell you that, but you wouldn’t listen.”
“It’s who you are.”
“It’s who I was in the moment,” Angelica said. “How about we spend tomorrow afternoon together, and we can discuss it. I made plans to help Gabney out tonight.”
“Promise? You’re not going to leave me hanging?”
“I’ll be there. Just don’t show up uninvited anymore.”
“I don’t know about these people, Gel.” Trevor reached for the door. “Be careful. They seem weird in the horror movie way.”
Angelica smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Trevor.”
Angelica shut the door behind him and crossed toward the stairs.
In the sitting room, Ms. Cammie and Serena were discussing the birthday ritual.
Serena leaned in. “I think she’s hiding something. No one knows anything about her. Seems to me she could be a spy for the other side.”
The thought only flickered behind her tongue, but Serena’s chair tipped back, spilling her onto the floor. She attributed it to the stress, the recent anger, everything really. Her control had slipped for the moment. She hurried up the stairs before they could realize what she’d done.
She rapped briefly on Gabney’s door and then let herself in. The clatter downstairs followed her inside.
“What’s going on downstairs?”
Angelica bit her lip. “I flipped Serena out of her chair.”
Gabney burst into laughter, rolling forward on her bed. “You know, Ms. Cammie is like the Vindica godmother with money and connections. She’ll have told everyone by sunset.”
Angelica picked up Rosemary’s journal on Gabney’s desk and jumped onto the bed. “I’m sure there will be other stories during her stay.”
Gabney furrowed her brow and bit down on the corner of her lip. “Serena and Ms. Cammie are very close.”
Angelica shrugged. For the moment, Angelica needed to avoid Ms. Cammie until John could smooth things over with the Vindica. Ms. Cammie would be tomorrow’s concern. “So what are we doing tonight?”
Gabney crossed to her desk and pulled out a sapphire book from a drawer. “I want to try a protection spell for Uncle John tonight.”
Angelica could feel Gabney brace herself for objections. Angelica didn’t even have to open her senses to feel Gabney’s thoughts anymore. Gabney needed to work on closing herself off better. “Have you ever tried a spell before?”
Gabney’s fingers brushed the raised letters on the cover of the book. Embarrassment burned her cheeks. “No, but I just can’t help but feel that Uncle John is in danger.”
“I agree.”
Gabney’s head napped up. “Really?”
“I don’t know anything about rituals so I don’t think I’ll be much help, but it can’t hurt to try.”
Gabney held the book toward Angelica. White felt applique letters spelled Book of Enchantment across the front. “It belonged to my Aunt Beth. She gave it to me as a graduation present when my dad told her I was coming here.”
Angelica would love nothing more than to flip through its pages. Since Landon had mentioned magic and that other creatures existed, she’d wondered if other things were possible. Magic offered another possibility. “Is the spell in this book?”
“Aunt Beth wrote a spell to protect a loved one when she was a teenager. She’s really quite good at it.”
“You wouldn’t want to try one on yourself?”
“I’m not all that important.”
Gabney believed she wasn’t important, but Angelica didn’t doubt that she was in danger. Gabney was one of those twenty-one year old women in the window. It didn’t take much to figure out the target of the attacks. Beyond age, Angelica was uncertain of the criteria.
“You’re in on this big secret,” Angelica said. “Of course you’re important.”
Gabney opened the book where a dried flower was wedged between the pages. “I need to gather some things, but we’ll perform it tonight at midnight.”
The pressed flower teased at a distant memory. Long ago, Lily had held a book open to a dried lavender stem. Lily must have had a book like this, a book of spells, one to create the protection amulet she wore around her neck. What had happened to Lily’s personal effects was another one of those unanswered questions.
When she’d first arrived at Gram’s house, she’d clung to the fantasy that Lily would return for her. At seven, she’d been trained for so l
ong to share her senses with Lily that she’d tell people on the street to be careful at the red light or stay inside later in the day because a thunder storm was on the way. Grams would stick her chin out in the air and apply pressure to the back of Angelica’s neck with a stiff hand.
Before the first time Angelica attended Sunday tea, Grams warned her that the women were to see nothing peculiar or she would be on the first bus to an institution. Angelica managed to control herself the first six weeks. The women were really boring anyway. One’s son would make the school basketball team, and another would have a cold next Sunday. Nothing interesting.
Then Cammie Dubois came to visit Mrs. Joanne, Denise’s mother. Heather Jasper, the preacher’s daughter, declared Ms. Cammie spoke so slowly that Tubby McPhee would be cute before she finished a sentence. Tubby was the pimply faced, tuba playing son of Donna McPhee, a regular at afternoon tea. Mrs. Donna hadn’t laughed the loud hearty laugh Ms. Cammie burst with at the declaration.
At one of their teas, Ms. Cammie was in the middle of one of her stories when Angelica flashed to Ms. Cammie being robbed of the rings twinkling on her fingers. Angelica squirmed in her seat, then put her hands under her bottom, all in attempts to keep this piece of information from bursting from her lips. Grams had glared down on her after she’d bounced up and down. Somehow Grams always knew.
When it was time to fetch the coats, Angelica rushed into the coatroom scooping up Ms. Cammie’s coat. When Ms. Cammie leaned forward to thank her for retrieving her coat, Angelica whispered, “Don’t turn down Peach Tree tonight on your walk, a bad man wants your rings.”
Grams, who’d stepped over at that moment, stiffened with a frown twitching at the corner of her lips.
Ms. Cammie had laughed, patting Gram’s arm. “Children have wonderful imaginations.”
Grams had eased some, but Ms. Cammie had winked at Angelica.
It was so brief, Angelica thought she’d imagined it, but Ms. Cammie hadn’t gone down Peach Tree that night. Some other woman on a job had been robbed of her engagement ring. The article had appeared in the newspaper, and Grams had left it open on the table near her breakfast.
Angelica had been eight by then. Thirteen years must have disguised her by now. Angelica had never been allowed to another tea party when Ms. Cammie was a guest, so one incident should not allow Ms. Cammie to remember that long ago child. But Angelica couldn’t deny that her past and her present spent much time crossing these days.
Angelica busied herself reading Rosemary’s journal for the rest of the evening. She read and reread passages attempting to understand who this woman was. The journal appeared to be a message, the last words from a woman who knew death approached. The writing was cryptic at best, but Angelica could distinguish hints of regrets.
She couldn’t focus on the words as they blurred before her several times as her thoughts drifted to everything going on here. She’d hoped to see Lysander here today, but he hadn’t dropped in. She didn’t want anything to be weird between them as she figured she’d be sticking around awhile. Kline always circled in her thoughts as well. Her curiosity over him threatened like a fever, and she wondered about their next encounter.
Finally, midnight arrived. Gabney and Angelica lay outside on a quilt spread near the stone altar on the patio. Angelica’s nose tingled at the smell of the mothballs and coconut. Was this the same night sky she’d lain under at her grandmother’s wishing on a star, hoping it would be heard this time?
“This is all I brought with me from Gram’s house.”
Gabney was perfectly still. “Were the two of you close?”
Angelica studied the white fog encasing the stars. “Not particularly, but she was the only family I had.”
Gabney propped herself up with her arm. “The worst memory I have is discovering the Vindica on my seventeenth birthday. I’d already committed to college here, and I was completely intimidated after learning what I was coming into at Uncle John’s.”
“How is John your uncle?”
Gabney laughed. “When I was really young, my dad told me he’d lived with Uncle John while he attended medical school. My mom was an only child, and my dad’s sister, Beth is eccentric. She flies into town every now and then with some new fascination. Being lonely, I wanted family so I began calling him Uncle John.”
“I guess we all want what we can’t have.”
Angelica could feel Gabney’s concern eating at the stillness in her head. “Did Lily ever tell you why she was leaving you at your Gram’s house instead of somewhere else?”
Images, memories clouded her head. Each new town sitting across from her in a booth and a new lesson over a chocolate covered doughnut and a small glass of milk. What is your name and how old are you? I’m Daisy and I’m four. I’m Holly, I just turned six. I’m Angel and I’m seven. If they ask you about your past, what do you say? My mom died in a car accident. My mom and dad are missing.
Angelica shook her head and knocked the haze away. The memories had become clearer the more she embraced the idea of having Custos blood. She didn’t want them yet though. They stole her breath. “Isn’t it magic time?”
Gabney glanced at her watch, which Angelica knew read three minutes before midnight. Gabney knelt down on her side of the altar stone, and Angelica settled opposite her. Angelica took the matches they’d placed earlier on the altar and lit the white altar candles.
As Gabney placed vervain, argue root, and yarrow in the metal bowl on the altar, Angelica removed Landon’s hair from the plastic bag. Angelica then poured the brewed rosemary over the contents. Gabney completed the concoction by placing lavender stems across the top of the bowl. Angelica and Gabney’s fingertips touched as they reached upward.
Their voices rose in unison with their heartbeat.
By the light of the full moon
In the doorway of night
We call on the presence
That protects the innocence of light
We ask protection form wrong
For one of your own
Watch over the innocent
And protect him from harm
Gabney lit a match and tossed it into the bowl. White fragrant wisps floated toward the veil of fog above. Angelica watched, feeling peaceful.
“It was as though someone was carrying it away.”
Gabney hugged her aunt’s book to her chest. “Vindica ritual believes the spirits of the original five guide the magic. It’s believed that when it works, it’s because they watched and intervened.”
“Does everyone in the Vindica do this kind of magic?”
“Unfortunately, it’s died out.” Gabney frowned as she held her face up to the moon. “Most don’t believe in the spiritual aspect anymore.”
“Do you think they’d be stronger with the magic?”
Gabney blew the white candles out. “I’m not an expert, but I do know that the five books are filled with rituals and spells.”
Everyone spoke about these books, but no one knew what the books contained. It could all be gibberish, but according to legend, the books equaled power. Angelica didn’t recall anyone mentioning reading them or studying them. Rosemary’s journal said the books held all truth if you held all five. What did that mean? How could books over four hundred years old know the truth about what had not existed? Some answers were definitely missing, and no one seemed to be asking the questions. But they were certain enough to kill for it.
“And the Book of Shadow Souls holds evil?”
Gabney’s eyelids were heavy and her expression dreamy. “The books aren’t good or evil. They hold potential and the interests of the original five.”
Gabney dwelled on the Book of Heart with its power to cure. She’d mentioned it a few times off-handedly in conversation. With an ability to cure disease and heal people, Angelica wondered why no one searched for this book. Again, she wondered what Rex knew about the Book of Shadow Souls that the Vindica did not.
Maybe what she needed was a vision of the futur
e, and that would take opening her mind up again to all that pain. Angelica wasn’t seeing any other possibilities at the moment though as she felt the chilly cement through the old tattered quilt.
Forty
With his arms behind his back, Rex rocked back on his heels as he watched Angelica round the corner. Even though she wasn’t alone, she didn’t become absorbed in her company. She scanned her surroundings, and her forehead crinkled when she glanced in his direction. Interesting. The girl could sense the presence of a Custos. Even he only sensed them vaguely as a smell, and it had taken training himself in the presence of others.
Lily’s child could not possess an ability she herself didn’t possess, and Rex hadn’t possessed the ability but merely honed it by other means, which begged the question where did the young woman acquire the skill. Perhaps this meant that Rex’s bloodline grew stronger. It was a thought.
Doubts about being the girl’s father had always circled in his mind, but he’d questioned and tortured many of his men after learning about the girl. None could have withstood his methods and withheld the truth. Lily hadn’t had an affair; therefore, Rex must be the father.
Lucilius stepped up behind him. Rex sidestepped to avoid being seen as Angelica glanced in their direction.
Rex stepped back into the alley and waited.
“That one, who is she?” Lucilius growled.
Rex studied his reaction. No need to show his hand before it was time. “A long, lost daughter.”
“Humph,” Lucilius said. His shoulders appeared wider in the gray suit he sported, and he towered massively over Rex. “Then her mother must be a Custos.”
“I assure you, her mother was human with a drop of Custos blood like the rest of us.”
Lucilius glared down at him, his eyes revealing his disbelief. “I will have to report her.”
Rex’s spine straightened. Report her to whom? This would confirm his suspicion that more Custos existed. “Why?”
“We keep an eye on such matters to make sure our people stay pure. We will require an assessment of her blood.”
“She is the key to obtaining the book.”
He stepped forward. “Then I will take her.”
Valor: The Custos Saga Page 17