by Donna Grant
“Among other things.” Christian took another drink of beer. “What was I right about?”
“Not being...encumbered,” Beau said and nodded his head to the table.
“Ah,” Christian said, his eyes growing big as realization set in. “Honestly, I was worried that you’d fall in with their thinking.”
Beau shook his head. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Is that so? If that’s your thinking, why are you so angry? Could it be that there is someone, but you just don’t want to give in because you’re afraid?”
Beau glared at Christian.
“You’re right to be afraid, little brother,” Christian said, all the teasing gone from his voice. “Death follows this family close. You bring a woman into the fold, you’re ushering her toward a grim reaper.”
CHAPTER THREE
Davena sighed in frustration and plopped her head back on the pillow twice, still unable to get comfortable. The rain had been steady for two straight days, putting everyone in an irritable mood. She gave up trying to sleep and opened her eyes. The porch light shining through the blinds only added to her annoyance. It didn’t help that it was her night on the couch while Delia got the bed.
Why she ever agreed to that deal, she’d never know? The furnished house had been all they could afford – all they could still afford. She had thought they’d share the bed, but Delia had refused, stating they needed their space.
Davena rolled her eyes as she remembered that conversation. It hadn’t been a pretty one. Davena had given in because it was the first time Delia had found a place herself. Usually, it was Davena searching for a decent – if not cheap – place for them.
Nothing had been easy since the night their mother was killed. They had left Algiers with barely thirty dollars in their pocket. It had been Delia’s money, which was somehow how she became the one responsible for their finances.
Davena had trusted her, because even though money had been tight, they had eaten and had a roof over their heads through the years. There may not have been nights out at the movies or even to a restaurant, but when fighting for your life, none of that seemed to matter.
She threw an arm over her head as she did a quick calculation of what the two of them had been bringing in together for the past few months from work, minus rent, groceries, and their few bills. That’s when she realized they should be sitting pretty well.
They were the best jobs they’d had in years. They were making more money now than they ever had, so why then did Delia tell her they had no money to rent a movie that night?
Davena threw off the blanket and sat up. It was true, Delia had been acting strange lately, but that had been the case ever since they came to the small town. Davena had chalked it up to them not moving on after a few months, but now that she looked back and pieced everything together, it was apparent Delia was up to something.
“Great. Just freaking great,” Davena said and ran her hands through her ruler straight hair.
She rose from the couch and padded across the wood floors, careful to walk around the creaky boards, to the closed door of the bedroom. There was no bright light showing through the bottom of the door, but neither was it as dark as it should be with the lights out.
Davena put her ear to the door and heard a faint mumbling. Without a doubt, she knew Delia had lit candles. Her heart rate accelerated as she realized her sister was chanting. And chanting meant magic.
A sound from the front of the house had her spinning around. Goosebumps rose along her arm as her heart pounded against her ribs. There was something outside.
She glanced over her shoulder at the door and briefly considered alerting Delia, until she gathered that it could be Delia summoning something.
“I’m going to stuff one of those candles up your ass, Delia,” she whispered to herself.
Davena retraced her steps until she stood before the wide window in the living room. She parted the blinds and saw nothing. A laugh erupted from her as she started to step back.
That’s when her gaze caught on a shape across the street dressed all in white.
Davena jerked back, tripping over the coffee table in her haste. A scream lodged in her throat as the world went black.
~ ~ ~
Beau came awake instantly, his body covered in sweat and smoke clogging his throat. He shoved aside the sheet and swung his legs over the side of the bed. For long moments, he sat in the quiet of his room trying to determine what caused him to wake so suddenly with an odd – and persistent – feeling of impending doom.
He ran his hands down his face and glanced at the clock. It wasn’t yet dawn. He managed to get only three hours of sleep. There would be no returning to dreamland for him. Whatever woke him, wanted him up for a reason. Beau never doubted the signs his body and mind gave him. They had saved his ass on numerous occasions.
Beau looked out his window to see another gray day ahead. The rain was still as steady as the day before. It had made hunting in the bayous the night before miserable. He rose and took a quick shower, not bothering to shave. He was dressed in jeans, pulling a tee over his head as he walked barefoot down the stairs to the kitchen.
The house was quiet as a tomb, but in a few hours it would be filled with laughter and conversation. It was the silent hours that Beau enjoyed the most. He was usually the first to wake, but the silence wasn’t what set him on edge. It was the gnawing, distressing feeling that grew by the minute.
He poured a glass of orange juice and walked to the back door. With a flick of his wrist, he unlocked the door and swung it open. He stood in the doorway, his hand on the jam as he looked out past the screened porch to the bayou beyond.
There was something out there. It was waiting, plotting. The question was, who was it after? The normal consensus would be any of the Chiassons, but this time, Beau thought it could be someone else.
The squeak of a rocker had his gaze jerking to the left to see Maria, her long silver hair pulled back in a bun, slowly rocking, her eyes on the bayou.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said. “It woke me.”
Beau frowned but remained silent. Maria wasn’t just Olivia’s grandmother, she had learned how to protect herself and her family by using spells and markings from other cultures. By dabbling into that world, Maria had learned...certain things. He didn’t speak as he waited for her to say more. She practiced Hoodoo, and that in itself made her a woman worth listening to.
“It’s out there, Beau. It’s coming for someone, but I don’t know who.” She swung her dark gaze to him. “Whatever it is, it’s going to touch this family.”
“They always do, Maria,” he said. “It happens when we hunt them.”
She was shaking her head before he finished. “No. It’s going to take a life. A Chiasson life unless it’s stopped.”
Beau glanced up, thinking of his brothers, Olivia, and Ava. Then there was Riley. She might not be in Louisiana, but she was still a Chiasson. “The threat is here only?”
“Yes.” Maria’s face was lined with worry. “Riley is safe. It’s everyone else I’m worried about. Especially my Olivia.”
“Vin won’t let anything happen to her.”
Maria smiled sadly. “He may not be able to stop this force. I don’t even know if I can. It’s...powerful.”
Beau licked his lips and stepped out onto the covered porch. The screen surrounding them kept them from being swarmed by mosquitos. “Is this the first time you’ve felt something like this?”
“Once before. It was here for a very brief time, and gone before I could try to discover what it was. Now, it appears it’s here to stay.”
“What kind of creature is it?”
She drew in a deep breath and looked back at the bayou. “There are many types of supernatural things out in the world, Beau Chiasson. Don’t narrow your thoughts to a creature.”
He finished his OJ and sat in the chair next to her. “What do you think it is?”
“I don’t have a
clue. Not yet, at least. I’ve been trying to determine what it is since I woke.”
“Olivia is going to have your hide when she discovers you got out in this weather.”
Maria laughed softly. “She’s the last of my family. She can get angry at me all she wants as long as she lives.”
Beau wondered how Vin and Linc were going to take the news. It made him infinitely glad he didn’t have a woman to worry about.
No sooner had that thought ran through his head than an image of Davena popped up. He swallowed and turned his head away from Maria. He wished he knew if Davena was safe. It wasn’t as if he could call her and check without completely freaking her out.
“I hear there is someone in town asking about you,” Maria said.
Beau shrugged. “People are always wanting to know stories about our family.”
“Do you have mud in your ears?” she asked testily.
Beau swung his head to her to find her steely gaze on him. He sat back, waiting for her to continue.
“I said you,” Maria said. “Who do you think would be asking about you?”
He knew. Davena. Beau didn’t so much as whisper her name, but Maria’s smile said she knew exactly who it was.
“She’s a pretty thing. So is her sister, but Davena is much friendlier than Delia. Grace saw Davena ask several people before she approached Grace.”
Beau didn’t bother to hide his grimace. Grace and Maria had been best friends since both were young girls. Just as Maria had looked after the Chiasson siblings after their parents’ deaths, Grace had done the same. Which meant there was no telling what Grace told Davena.
“Don’t worry,” Maria said. “Grace didn’t tell her much, other than you were single and could use a good woman.”
Beau dropped his head back and closed his eyes. Was this what it was like to have grandparents or eccentric aunts who liked to meddle?
Her cold fingers clamped around his wrist, turning his attention to her. Maria’s eyes were once more filled with distress. “We have to find out what’s here. I can’t lose Olivia.”
He could see her panic rising. She had tried to change the subject by talking about Davena, but whatever woke the both of them had a strong hold on her.
“You said it would touch this family,” Beau said slowly as he thought through all she’d said. “But it isn’t after us right now. I gather it will come for us when we try to stop it.”
Maria nodded, her eyes blinking quickly. “That’s my feelings on it. You’ve felt it too, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” he admitted with a slight nod. “It woke me.”
“What did you see? What did you feel?”
He briefly closed his eyes and thought back to when he first woke. “I didn’t see anything. It was just a feeling of trepidation. Like something ominous was coming. And smoke.”
“Smoke?” Maria repeated with a deep frown. “I wish we had time, but I think it’s already here.”
Beau covered Maria’s hand with his. “We’ll find it.”
“I don’t want to worry Olivia.”
“Vincent needs to know. So do Lincoln and Christian. I have to tell them so we can start looking for this thing.”
Maria released him, pulling her hand from his and sat back with a sigh. “Grace is at my house. My place is more protected than hers. She’ll remain with me until this thing is caught and ended.”
“You’re powerful in your own right, Maria. Don’t forget that.”
“I’m not forgetting it, but this is more powerful than me and Grace combined.”
The fact that Maria wasn’t just worried but frightened was telling. “What should I be looking for?”
“Death. And magic.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Davena woke on the couch. She blinked and stared at the small TV across from her. She stretched as she rolled onto her back and immediately winced. She stilled, recalling the previous night. Had it all been a dream? It had to be. Otherwise, how would she have gotten back onto the couch? And yet, her shoulder blade was sore.
The coffee table. Her gaze went to the table to see nothing out of order. She remembered tripping over it, she remembered falling, and then...nothing.
Davena slowly sat up and looked around. A glance at the clock hanging on the wall above the TV said it was just after six. The sun couldn’t penetrate the thick rain clouds fully, only lightening the room enough for her to see without turning on a lamp.
She shoved her hair out of her face, and had to quickly bite back a yelp of pain. Davena fisted her hands and waited until the worst of it had passed. Then she rose and walked to the bathroom where she flipped on the light and tilted her head to the side as she carefully moved her hair.
The bump was barely visible on her temple, but the bruising was evident, as was the small cut. There was no blood, nor had she woken up on the floor as she should have.
“What the hell is going on?” she asked her reflection.
Davena braced her hands on the edge of the sink and swallowed past the sudden nausea that threatened, which had nothing to do with her injury. Only one other time had she felt such dread. Less than a week later her mother had been murdered.
She broke out into a cold sweat and began to shake. Gagging, she rushed to the toilet, tears falling as she tried not to be sick.
Their life had been good in Crowley. It was a small city surrounded by even smaller towns. She and Delia were making good money and had remained longer than their customary six months. Davena had thought they were through moving.
Her legs buckled, dropping her to her knees as she rested her cheek against the cool porcelain seat. She didn’t know how long she stayed that way before the tears finally dried up and the worst of the nausea passed.
Davena wiped her face and straightened. She was going to have to find some way to tell Delia it was time to get moving. They were only two hours from the Texas border. Perhaps it was time they left Louisiana again. They had spent time in Mississippi and Arkansas. It was always tough to convince Delia to leave Louisiana, but she would do it. Then make sure they never returned.
She climbed to her feet and walked back to the living room. Davena inspected the coffee table to see a chip on one edge. She touched it, and the entire table rocked.
Just as she had thought. She hadn’t just tripped, she had broken the thing. Someone had cleaned up the entire incident so she’d think she was losing her mind.
Davena’s head turned to the bedroom door. Delia was up to something, but Davena had a hard time believing her sister would allow her to believe she was going insane. Delia was many things, but not manipulative. At least she hadn’t been.
She then walked to the front door and checked the locks. All were in place. Same with the back door and all the windows Davena could get to. The bedroom door opened just as she finished checking the window over the kitchen sink. Davena whirled around, her head pounding at the quick action.
“Morning,” Delia said with a yawn. She shuffled into the kitchen in her bare feet and clicked on the coffee pot before making her way to the bathroom and turning on the water.
Davena pulled out a chair at the tiny kitchen table that only sat two and dropped her head into her hands. They had two hours before they had to be in to work. That was two hours she had to convince Delia to leave Louisiana.
The smell of the coffee brewing filled the small house. As soon as it finished, Davena poured herself a cup and contemplated what to do. One more day wouldn’t hurt them. They could turn in their notices at work and be gone by the next day.
By the time Delia walked out of the bathroom in her robe with a towel wrapped around her head, Davena had it all figured out.
“You’re going to be late,” Delia said as she poured her coffee with four heaping spoonfuls of sugar.
“Let’s leave.”
Delia threw her an exasperated look. “Very funny. I thought you were happy here.”
“I am. I was. I just think it’s time to move on. We’ve s
tayed longer than we’ve ever stayed before.”
Delia shrugged and faced her as she blew on her coffee. “It’s been six years, sis. Delphine didn’t come after us in all that time. She’s not going to come after us now because she thinks we’re dead.”
“Did you pick me up last night after I fell?”
“Pick you up?” Delia’s forehead furrowed. “What is going on with you? You fell? Are you all right?”
Davena waved away her words and rose to set her empty cup next to the sink. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just getting antsy to leave.”
“I’m not going.”
“What?” she asked, her head whipping around to her sister. “We’ve always stayed together.”
“It’s been six fucking years!”
“Don’t say that word. Mom hated it.”
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” Delia yelled. “Mom is dead, and I’m an adult. I can say whatever I want.”
Davena could only stare after Delia as she stormed away, the door slamming after her. They may not share a bed, but they shared a closet and clothes.
She stomped after her sister, throwing open the door and causing Delia to gasp as she turned from the closet, a shirt in hand. “Finished with your temper tantrum? You’d think you were the younger sister.”
“Puh-leeze,” Delia said with a roll of her eyes. “Ten months separate us. You think you’ve got it all under control, but the truth is, you’re always grasping at straws. There’s no control, Davena, but you’ve never realized that.”
Now she was more confused than ever. “Control? What the hell are you talking about?”
“You want to control every aspect of our lives from where we live to how long we stay somewhere.”
“Oh, no you don’t.” Davena began to shake she was so angry. “I distinctly remember leaving many places behind because you were ready before I was. How many decent places have we left? That one in Mississippi was a good place, and the job at the deli was really good.”