Chapter 14
Hours passed as I lay in the darkness listening to Teeny breathe. Desperation had me by the throat, making it impossible to sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking of how we might escape until finally I gave up and slipped out of the bed.
I crept to the door, sliding the bolt and stepping out into the dark passage, and I made my way down the hall to Rosa’s room. Her light was still on, so I tapped lightly. She opened the door a crack and saw it was me, then she opened it wide enough to allow me to enter. I walked through the door, and she quickly shut it behind me, turning the lock.
“Why are you up?” she asked, going back to her chair.
Her room was much larger than ours, with a sitting area and a place in the back corner for a hot plate. She also had a large window with a box for plants. On her little table was a glass of green liquid. A silver spoon rested across the top holding a sugar cube, and I watched as she slowly poured water over it. I’d seen her do this before, but it still made me uneasy. I’d heard of people going crazy or dying from taking absinthe.
When the white square was gone, she placed the spoon beside a bowl of sugar cubes and took the milky liquid to her lips. She sipped and then leaned back, closing her eyes. After a few moments she murmured, “Tulips.”
“I need your help,” I said, still watching her.
She opened her eyes and looked at me. “Help?”
“I’ve got to leave, to get Teeny out of here, but I don’t know how… or where to go.”
She lifted the glass and took another sip. “Why?”
“The night of my birthday, when you had her here with you—”
“Did Beau come to you?” She smiled in a dreamy way.
“No. Gavin did.”
She jerked her head up, eyes open. “Gavin?”
“He came to tell me about Guy.”
“Oh.” Rosa relaxed, taking another sip of the cloudy, white drink. “Guy.” she repeated.
“He wants Teeny.”
She sniffed and shrugged. “Then he’ll have her.”
I jumped and quickly went around the small table to sit beside her, clutching her sleeve. “I won’t let that happen. I won’t let him hurt her.”
She patted my hand. “No one stops Guy.”
I stood and walked to the other side of her room. A collection of absinthe spoons rested on a shelf, and I carefully touched a pointed one that had cutouts in the design of flames all over it.
“It used to scare me when you did this.”
She chuckled. “You were easily frightened.”
“I’d lost everyone. I didn’t want to lose you, too.”
“Only the addicts die. The ones who crave the pure oil.”
“The pure oil’s poisonous?”
“Enough of it.” She lay back and closed her eyes again. I watched her for a few moments.
“I told Gavin I’d take her place.”
She glanced at me and then chuckled again, shaking her head. “He’ll never let that happen.”
“I won’t let anyone hurt her.”
She didn’t respond, and I watched her a few minutes, thinking about what she’d said. And then, as if a window had opened allowing a cool breeze to blow through, a solution passed over me. I knew what I had to do.
“He wanted you back then,” she mumbled, taking another sip. “Watched you when he thought no one was looking.”
Her mind was crossing over into the dream state of absinthe-takers, and I wasn’t sure how much of what she was saying now was true.
“Your mother stopped him, but she took a beating for it. That’s why he left.” Her speech was slowing. “Gavin wanted him dead for hurting her.”
“I’ve never head that story.”
“No one talks about it. Or about Guy.”
I could tell those were her last words for the night, and I stood and walked over to where she sat. “Thanks,” I said, kissing her cheek. “It’s going to be alright now. I know what to do.”
The fear had left me as I went to the door and opened it, going back down the passage to my room. Calm filled my mind. The calm of knowing exactly how I would handle this. My path was plain, and I knew I wouldn’t falter.
But first I had an errand to run.
* * *
Roland was amused when I asked him to take me to the cottage on St. Ann Street the next morning. I found him at the piano as always, a cigarette hanging from his lips.
“We don’t have time for field trips,” he said.
“Beau doesn’t believe in voodoo, and it’s his first Halloween in New Orleans. I want it to be memorable.” Even though I hadn’t spoken to Beau since that day in the wings, he seemed like the safest excuse, and Roland couldn’t resist a prank.
“Meet me at the back entrance in half an hour,” he relented, stabbing out his cigarette. “I’ve got to be back by five.”
I was in my wrap and a hat I’d borrowed from the men’s wardrobe when he met me. It was brown tweed with a black band and a little feather on the side. He grinned when he saw it, and grabbing a dark gray overcoat, we set off down the narrow street toward the Quarter. I pulled my wrap tightly around my body to block the strong wind and clutched his arm. The sky was a hazy overcast like it might rain, but I was calm with the knowledge of my plan. I had money left over from buying Teeny’s shoes. I just hoped it would be enough to get what I needed and to ensure silence.
The voodoo house was dark when we arrived, but Roland dashed up the steps and pulled on the door. He removed his hat when we entered but kept his overcoat buttoned. It was as cold inside the narrow cottage as it was outside. The syrupy scent of pipe smoke mixed with spicy patchouli oil in the air as I walked past counters adorned with dolls and alligator claws, crude noise-makers, and other assorted gris-gris. I tried to think of a way to speak to the proprietor on my own, without my escort.
A Negro woman in a white turban passed through a beaded curtain that divided the front of the house from the back. She came to where we were standing and looked us up and down, frowning.
“Children,” she muttered in a thick Haitian accent, shaking her head. “What do you want?”
Roland pointed at me.
“I need something.” I hesitated, then I leaned toward her. “Pure wormwood oil.”
“You don’t come here for that,” she chided. “The apothecary has what you want.”
“But I need an ounce.”
The woman’s face didn’t react, but Roland caught my arm and turned me to look at him. His eyes narrowed, and he dragged me back to the entrance. I struggled against him, but he was stronger than me and had me outside in two steps. Then he fixed those black eyes on mine.
“What’s going on?” he demanded.
I glanced down and a huge gust of wind whipped my dark hair up and around my face. “I have to do this.”
“Do what?” His arms were crossed, and I simply looked at him until he lowered them again. “Who?”
“Guy.”
At that, he gripped my arm and pulled me back to the street, the way we came. I struggled to break free of his hold until he finally stopped walking and turned to look at me again.
“First, there’s no way you’d ever get it past him. And second, what makes you think you could hide something like this by yourself?”
“Absinthe. I’ll mix it with the absinthe, and no one will ever know.”
“He doesn’t take absinthe,” Roland snapped. “And… good god, Hale. You still haven’t told me what’s behind this.”
“He’s coming for Teeny.” My throat grew tight, and I couldn’t finish.
Roland spun on his heel and threw out his arms. “So let him have her!”
My hand clenched into a fist, and I hit him so fast, it surprised both of us. He stepped back, covering his mouth, and I rubbed my fingers. The pain brought tears to my eyes.
Then he grabbed my arm and jerked me to him with a force that made me cry out. “Don’t ever hit me again,” he said through clenched teeth.
“I�
��m sorry,” I said, looking down. Two tears fell onto my cheeks. He shoved me back, still holding his lip. A trickle of blood appeared, and I dug a handkerchief out of my pocket.
“I said I’d take her place,” I said, handing it to him.
Anger flashed across his face, and his teeth remained clenched. “Who did you tell that?”
“Gavin.”
He exploded a loud exhale. “He’ll never let that happen.”
“I won’t let him have her!” My voice was desperate and tears were blurring my vision. “This is the only way to stop him. For good.”
I started back for the cottage, but Roland caught my arm, gentler this time, and pulled me to him. “Calm down,” he said, stroking my hair. Then he wrapped his arms around me and pressed my head into his chest. I shivered as the tears fell.
“Why have you stopped caring about her?” I whispered through the thickness in my throat.
“I haven’t. It’s just… you have to learn when to fight, and when to let go. There are those you can save, and those you can’t.”
“And into which category do I fall?” I pushed back, anger rising in me again.
For a moment he simply looked at me. Then he stepped forward and caught my face. I was just about to speak when he bent down and kissed me, pushing my lips apart with his. I couldn’t breathe. My stomach clenched, and the metallic taste of his blood was in my mouth as I fumbled with the scratchy wool of his coat, trying to find my balance. He held our lips together a second longer before letting go and pulling back. Then he looked directly into my eyes.
“Which do you think?”
“I-I don’t understand. I thought you didn’t go with women.”
“I don’t,” he muttered, releasing me.
“But—”
“You’re a different matter. There’s a bond between us. You know that.”
I seized on that sentiment. “Because we grew up together. Because you looked out for me when we were kids. Don’t you see? That’s how it is with Teeny and me.”
“It’s not the same.”
“It is!” My throat was tight again.
“Teeny has none of the history we share. None of the debt I owe your mother.” His voice had softened at the words, at some memory I didn’t know. He stepped back to me, and smoothed the tear off my cheek with his thumb. “That I owe you.”
“You have no debt to me.”
But he smiled and waved a hand, and just like that I watched his own invisible curtain rise. “I’ll help you. But I won’t let you put yourself in danger.”
I was still trying to understand what had just happened, but his words gave me hope. “You’ll help me?”
“Of course. But not like this.” He motioned to the cottage. Then he crooked his arm and nodded in the direction of the theater. “Come on.”
With hesitation, I took his arm. I believed him, but still I tracked the street signs as we walked, making mental notes of our route. He didn’t have to know if I returned to the cottage, and there was only one way I knew to stop Guy permanently. I’d be back, if only for insurance.
* * *
That evening I had only one hour before the show started to secure what I needed. I left Teeny with Rosa and sneaked out the back way into the street for my last-chance dash. Guy would be waiting at the end of the show tonight, and there was no time to waste. The wind whipped my hair around my face, and I clutched my coat tighter as I raced down alley after alley toward the cottage. I didn’t notice the dark figure huddled against the wall until she stepped out to block me.
“Opal?” She hissed, and I squealed, jumping back. It was the same beggar who’d accosted me the night I was with Beau.
“Don’t you remember Molly?” she asked in a broken voice.
“No. I’m not Opal.” I didn’t have time to stop, but she was following me.
“Wait,” she called after me. “Opal… it’s me, Molly!”
I spun around and faced her. “What do you want?” I shouted.
“You’re not her,” she said, drawing close to my face. Her breath smelled like death, and when she spoke, I saw her spoiled teeth. “But you look the same.”
“Opal was my mother,” I said, calming my voice. A freakish beggar woman was the least of my concerns right now. “Molly? Please tell me what you want.”
The woman’s eyes went wide, and her voice hissed as she clutched my arm. “I want my baby!”
Now my heart was beating fast. “You’re crazy. I don’t know about a baby. Let me go.” I shook my arm, but she wouldn’t release me.
She drew close again, and I paused. Something was familiar in her blue eyes. “You’re going to the cottage on St. Ann’s. I’ve been following you.”
I jerked my arm and broke into a run. In two turns I’d lost her, but I’d also lost my way. Panting, I leaned against a damp brick wall and looked up. Night was closing in, and I was surrounded by tall buildings. I had to get my bearings before it was too late. I wandered from street to street looking up, but it was no good. I had no idea where I was, and it was getting darker by the second. I kept walking straight hoping I’d hit the river when I heard a voice.
“Hale?”
I almost cried out in relief as Beau jogged up to me. He stopped and took my hand, and his grip was so warm and familiar, I had to struggle not to rush into his arms and hide.
“I thought that was you. What are you doing out here?”
“I… I…” An excuse wasn’t coming. I looked away and realized he was still holding my hand. I pulled it back and tucked it under my arm. “I lost my way.”
“Well, lucky for you I had to stop by Philippe’s. I’ll take you back.”
We walked beside each other in silence for a while. The strong gusts stole my breath, and I imagined tucking inside his coat and clutching close to him. I glanced sideways and caught him looking at me.
“How are you?” He asked.
I shook my head. “The same.”
“Something’s changed. Freddie’s gone.”
“Just for a month.”
He caught my arm and turned me to face him. “It gives us more time. There’s still a chance for us.”
I thought about my plan, and I thought about the question of Beau leaving New Orleans, his job and his dreams, for me. And Teeny. I couldn’t involve him in a murder plot. I wouldn’t ruin his life that way, but perhaps if my dark plan succeeded, everything might change. I shook my head. There was no way to predict what would happen, and there wasn’t time to discuss it now.
I clutched his coat and stepped forward, pulling myself up to kiss his cheek. “I would give anything for that to be true.”
Before he could react, I turned and walked away too fast for him to catch me. I recognized the streets now, and I quickened my pace to a light jog, keeping ahead of him, out of his reach. I burst through the back door and ran to my dressing room.
Chapter 15
My moment with Beau before the finale was brief, but he grasped my hand and promised to meet me after the show as I was swept away. I descended to the floor to perform, and following the rush of musty velvet curtains, I raced back to my room.
Teeny had to be hidden with Evie quickly, and perhaps I could hide as well. I didn’t care what was happening in the smaller chamber adjacent to her bedroom, we would stay there until I had what I needed.
But it was too late. Guy was already at my dressing room when I got there, holding the door open against my little charge.
“Hale will be here any moment,” Teeny said as she struggled to push the door closed. “There’s no time—”
“There’s plenty of time,” his nasty voice replied.
“What’s going on?” I tried to be casual, but my whole body was tense.
“Christina will be my escort tonight.” He didn’t make eye contact, and I noticed perspiration on his top lip.
“It’s too late for her to go out,” I said, fear tightening my throat. “But I’m available.”
I stepped in
front of Teeny, and her little nails bit into my arm as she gripped me. Guy paused, leering too long at my plunging neckline, and then placed his hot palm on my shoulder ready to shove me aside. I braced myself to hold firm.
“Since when have you been available?”
A bustling in the passage caused all three of us to look up. Roland was leading Gavin toward us with Mastiff close behind, and none of them were smiling.
“What’s going on?” Gavin said as his brother stepped back to the opposite wall.
“Hale just offered to be my escort for the night.”
Gavin’s eyes narrowed at me. “I told you that wouldn’t be necessary.”
“He came for Teeny, and I told you—”
“No, she’s right. Hale will do just fine,” Guy stepped forward to take my arm. The knot of panic twisted tighter in my throat. I had to get my weapon.
“Just let me slip into something more comfortable,” I said, trying to smile, to act calm.
“We aren’t leaving the building,” he said. “And what you’re wearing pleases me.”
My heart was pounding. I had to change clothes if only to try and make it to Rosa’s room and back. Something told me she might have what I’d sought earlier. “I’ll be better if I’m more comfortable.”
Gavin frowned at me before turning back to his brother. “Tomorrow,” he said, patting Guy’s arm as if to calm an attack dog. “Let’s us men do something tonight, and we can trouble the girls tomorrow.”
“I’ve waited long enough.” Guy flung his brother’s arm away, and I stared at the two of them. They were like two extreme halves of one person.
Another bustling in the hall caused us to look up. It was Beau, and he was also frowning as he strode toward us.
“Hale? What’s going on?” he said, but Roland stepped out and blocked his path.
“Best head on home now,” Roland said. “Hale will see you tomorrow.”
Beau tried to push past him, but the two struggled until Mastiff stepped up and took Beau’s arm. “Come on, son,” he said, smiling apologetically.
“I’m not leaving.” Beau shoved his arm back. He pushed forward again, but Roland held him. “What’s going on?” He demanded.
Rouge (#1 in the Cheveux Roux series) Page 15