Demons of Bourbon Street

Home > Other > Demons of Bourbon Street > Page 11
Demons of Bourbon Street Page 11

by Deanna Chase


  I tightened my grip, holding on as her fear flooded my awareness. “What is it? What are you so afraid of?”

  “Not now!” she cried and tore away from my grasp. “I’m going after Philip. You can do whatever you want.” She ran, weaving in and out of the swelling crowd.

  “Shit,” I mumbled and followed. Why in the world hadn’t I worn more sensible shoes? The uneven bricked sidewalk threatened to turn my ankles with each step.

  Don’t think about it. Eyes trained on Lailah, I kept her blond head in my sights and tried my best to not barrel anyone down. I followed her across Decatur, and I’d just passed into the gates of Jackson Square Park when someone grabbed my shoulder.

  “Where’s the fire?” the man slurred.

  His stale beer breath made my stomach turn. I stepped back. “Excuse me. I need to catch up with my friend.”

  “I’m sure she’ll wait. Reverend Goodwin is just getting started.” He casually draped an arm around me as he tried to guide me toward the corner of the park. “Come have a drink with me and my buddies.”

  Buried anger boiled in my chest as I twisted away. “I said no.”

  “I don’t remember asking.” He laughed. “Why else does a pretty girl like you come to New Orleans? We’ll show you a good time, sugar.”

  Another man, tall and thin with a low ponytail and yellow teeth, flanked my other side. “Don’t worry, one shot of Uncle D’s moonshine and you won’t even remember me putting my tongue down your throat.”

  Gag.

  I stepped back, but the pair had me surrounded. I glanced over my shoulder, not finding Lailah or Philip anywhere. Son of a… There was only one thing I could think to do. My fingers started to tingle, and I reached out, zapping their wrists. Magic burst from my fingers in an electric jolt. Beer Breath cried out as he tumbled backwards, while Yellow Teeth grunted.

  “What the fuck?” Yellow Teeth snarled, and then his eyes widened. “You’re a damn witch.”

  “What?” Beer Breath exclaimed from his spot on the grass.

  I took off as the pair stumbled after me, yelling at the top of their lungs. “Witch! Get her!”

  The crowd parted for me as I ran. They stared with confused eyes, either not hearing or not comprehending my attackers’ accusations.

  “Stop her,” Beer Breath managed to gasp out.

  No one did. Thank the Goddess.

  Then somehow, someone on stage got wind of our pursuit, and over the loud speaker, Goodwin’s voice boomed. “Good people of New Orleans, it appears one of the offenders is here in the park. Please join me in a prayer.”

  I ducked behind a bush as a chorus of boos rose, drowning him out. A few shouted obscenities, but when a small group started chanting, “Burn the witch,” my hands started to shake.

  I had power, but if the crowd turned into an angry mob, I couldn’t take them all.

  “Quiet now. Shh,” Goodwin continued. “Violence isn’t the answer. Always remember, hate the sin, not the sinner,” he added with no small amount of charm.

  That smooth voice and all the righteous bullshit he spewed made me want to throw a magic ball right at his perfect face. Who was he to judge?

  Damn angel.

  “But forgiveness does not equal a free pass. We must help this poor soul.”

  Cheers rose, and Goodwin’s smile brightened.

  “I have a mission for you, my loyal followers. A contest, if you will. All you need to do is find the witch and bring her to me unharmed, and you’ll be rewarded on my next program as an honored guest.”

  The supporters collectively lost their minds. Fist pumps and cheers rippled through the park. I rose from my crouch, deciding hiding would only make me look guilty.

  Goodwin’s eyes met mine.

  We held each other’s gazes just long enough for him to wink. Then he turned to someone on the stage and acted as if he’d never seen me. The bastard had used me as a pawn to rile his troops.

  With Lailah and Philip long gone, I turned my back and headed toward a different exit. I didn’t get ten yards when a large, squat woman stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

  “I know who you are,” she said.

  Magic coiled in my chest. I couldn’t take everyone, but I’d go down trying. “I’m sorry. I’m in a hurry, would you excuse me?”

  “People are waiting for you that way. Your best bet is to leave from behind the stage.” She pointed a stubby finger. “Go. I’ll hold them off as long as possible.”

  I peeked behind her. Sure enough, Beer Breath and Yellow Teeth were scanning the crowd. When had they gotten past me? Probably while I’d been distracted by Goodwin’s speech. With no other options, I gave the lady a grateful smile and thanked her, then took off for the stage.

  Great. It was the last place I should be. My butt started vibrating, making me jump. The phone. I didn’t take time to answer it, just kept moving.

  The people in front were even more rabid than the ones milling around in the back. That was good though; they all kept their gazes fixed on Goodwin, nodding and shouting out amen every other second. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to vomit or bash some skulls.

  “We’ll take back the city,” Goodwin promised the crowd. “Purge the streets of Wiccans, drug dealers, and thieves.”

  Wiccans. Idiot. Talk about religious persecution. I longed for a magical duel with the angel in question. What I wouldn’t do to hit him with a powerful indigestion spell. No-good, self-important troublemaker.

  I abandoned my mental insults when I spotted the entrance to backstage. Right behind the bouncers was an opening clearly marked Exit. I had to get to that doorway.

  Except the large, squat woman came up behind me and stopped me in my tracks when she whispered, “Wait.”

  “Why?”

  She grinned and pulled out a microphone. “I’ve got the witch.”

  A sinking realization washed over me. Shit! I’d been played. I spun, heading for that open gate, but a man strongly resembling the woman stepped in my path. My only option was to show the world my power by zapping them, or—

  An ominous rumble vibrated across the sky, bringing with it the darkest rain cloud I’d ever seen. The sun vanished and in the space of maybe ten seconds, the skies opened, sending fat, pounding rain over the city.

  Philip appeared at my side out of nowhere. “Move,” he ordered. “Now.”

  Chapter 13

  “Did you cause that?” I asked as Philip dragged me down Saint Peters Street. Rain soaked through my cotton shirt, making gooseflesh pop out over my skin.

  “No. Jonathon did.”

  I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to keep warm. “Why? Is this his idea of a sick joke?”

  Philip stopped under a balcony. “He had to do something before the crowd tore you apart.”

  “It’s his fault they were after me in the first place,” I cried.

  He stared down at me, impatience clinging to his wet body. “No. It’s yours. You went into a volatile crowd and used your magic. He did his best to keep you safe. Why do you think he asked them to bring you to him?”

  “So he could pray for me? Make me an example? How should I know?”

  Philip took a step forward and shook his head. “Pay attention, Jade. Jonathon is interested in people leading moral lives. Fire and brimstone are his methods of influence. He has no desire for anyone to get hurt. Especially not you. The only reason he called you out is because you were in danger. You might not like his approach, you might even loathe it, but this was your fault. You had no business showing up at that rally.”

  I glared, teeth chattering. I didn’t give a flying shit what Philip said. Jonathon was fostering violence. “He did this. He went on television and basically said witches are evil. His words make people distrust each other. Why me? Why now? All I did was ask for help.”

  “You were the perfect catalyst for his cause.” Philip took off down the street again.

  I followed. “And that is…what? Burning witches at the st
ake?” I ducked under another balcony and pressed against the wall to escape the pounding rain.

  He paused. “Mobilizing the masses. Creating press. Keeping the donations rolling in. He’s nothing without a platform.”

  “Oh, he’s something, all right.”

  Philip gave a noncommittal shrug and we walked on in silence.

  We crossed Bourbon Street, moving deeper into the residential area, and I finally asked, “Where are we going?”

  “Lailah’s.”

  Relief mixed with trepidation. If I went anywhere else, Kane was likely to show up. Of course, nothing was stopping him from looking for me at Lailah’s. He did know where she lived, after all. But he probably wouldn’t guess I’d be there.

  I hated that I was hiding. Hated that I couldn’t be near him, touch him, and most of all, that my presence actually caused him to suffer. I had to stay away. It would just be too hard to see him, knowing we couldn’t be together. Not while Meri could get to me through him, anyway.

  I’d never been inside Lailah’s house before. The pale pink, single shotgun Victorian had a small front porch and a two-person swing, painted turquoise with white daisies. A pair of bright pink flip-flops and a yellow mug that said Shoes are a girl’s secret to happiness had been left on the porch.

  “Are you sure this is the right place?” I pushed my sopping hair out of my eyes and scowled as a trickle of water dripped down my back.

  Her place seemed so girly. And not at all what I’d expected.

  Philip nodded, and the door swung open. Lailah filled the entry, holding two giant, hot pink bath towels. Since when had she taken a shine to so much color? In contrast, she wore a faded green peasant skirt and a black tank top.

  “Here.” She handed us the towels and shooed us in the door. “Some of them might be following you.”

  I glanced back at the fat raindrops and darkened streets. Not likely. I wrapped the plush towel around my shoulders and kicked off my shoes, leaving them on the porch.

  The vibrant colors of the living room assaulted my vision, and I almost stepped back outside. A bright red couch covered in multi-colored floral pillows sat against the wall. On either side, two end tables had been painted with distorted faces and psychedelic flowers. And to top it off, a hot pink shag rug covered her oak floors. A sense of déjà vu settled over me. It dawned on me I’d been there once before in Lailah’s memory.

  The place was much brighter in person. I struggled to keep from shielding my eyes. How could anyone think in such a room?

  “Follow me,” she said and led us to the back of the house.

  We passed through a door into a soothing bedroom, done in white and mint green. If it were possible for my eyes to sigh in relief, they would have.

  The kitchen, to my surprise, was pure elegance, with its black painted wood floors and gorgeous white cabinetry. Fresh red lilies sat in the middle of her black and white checkerboard table. It was beautiful, but I couldn’t shake the feeling we’d just walked through some version of a funhouse. I eyed Lailah, trying to decide if her decorating indicated some sort of manic disorder.

  “How are you going to work this?” Lailah asked.

  “Huh?” I tore my gaze from the lilies and watched her fill an old-fashioned teapot.

  Philip searched her cupboards for mugs, appearing very much at ease in her home. I narrowed my eyes and studied them. A slight brush of an arm as Lailah moved past him. No subtle adjustments for personal space. Brief moments of unshielded eye contact.

  Lailah had something going with Philip.

  Stop, Jade, Lailah scolded in my head. It’s none of your business.

  What about your mate? I accused.

  That’s definitely none of your business. Drop it. She turned to Philip. “Sooner’s better than later.”

  “True.” Philip placed a tea bag in each cup. “But she isn’t ready. If we send her unprepared, we’ll lose both of them.”

  I waved a hand from my position at the table. “Excuse me. What are we talking about?”

  They both ignored me.

  “What will happen to Kane?” Lailah picked up the teapot and filled the matching red cups with steaming hot water.

  Philip closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “He’ll be tied to her forever unless Jade succeeds.”

  Lailah placed one of her delicate hands on Philip’s forearm. A trickle of pity and compassion radiated from her. “I’m so sorry.”

  He shook his head. “It’s for the best. It should have happened years ago.”

  “It’s not your fault. No one expected you to be the one to do it.”

  I stood. “Do what?”

  They both turned, expressions surprised, as if they’d just realized I was still in the room.

  Philip spoke first. “Annihilate Meri. It’s the only way you’ll stop her from destroying you and Kane.” He moved to stand next to me and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Even if you keep your distance from Kane, eventually her poison will spread and…he won’t survive.”

  Fear squeezed my heart. Kane was in serious trouble. I’d known it, obviously. But I hadn’t let myself consider the consequences. He could die. The image of Kane, cold and lifeless, flashed through my mind. Terror rippled through me.

  I clenched my fists and straightened my spine. No way was I letting the evil spawn take Kane from me. “How long does he have?”

  Philip frowned. “It’s hard to say. Keeping your distance from him helps, but now that the wound is festering, you probably have less than a week.”

  “Are you saying I have to go—” I swallowed “—to Hell?”

  “Yes.” His voice turned low, full of regret.

  Meri had said Philip didn’t come after her. I couldn’t help but wonder why. Hadn’t he loved her enough? Were there other factors beyond his control? Whatever happened, I wouldn’t let his mistakes stop me. Not if it meant losing Kane.

  “She’s going to need help,” Lailah said gently.

  “I know.” Philip paced the tiny kitchen. “This time I have no choice.”

  He stood with his back to us, hands on the counter. I glanced at Lailah. “What’s he talking about?”

  She shook her head, indicating now wasn’t the best time for questions.

  Philip turned around with hardened eyes. “I’ll have to send you to Meri—to Hell— and help you destroy her.”

  ***

  I sat in Lailah’s color-overload living room, staring at my iPhone. I’d envisioned performing some sort of spell to bring Dan back from Hell. And while I’d considered it a possibility that I might have to navigate the gates of the underworld, I hadn’t truly believed it was an option.

  Now, after Philip’s explanation, I realized it was my only option. If I didn’t go in and find Meri, Kane would slowly lose his soul. If I tried to summon her, she’d siphon all my strength straight through him.

  The phone vibrated. Another text from Kane: Where are you?

  I’d sent him a text earlier letting him know I was safe but hadn’t relayed any other information. The phone buzzed again. This time it was Pyper: Put him out of his misery and call him already.

  I typed back, Soon.

  It wasn’t that I wanted to avoid him. On the contrary, I longed to curl up in his arms. I just didn’t know what to say. There was no way he was going to be okay with me sacrificing myself for him. And there was no way I wasn’t going to do it.

  I hit contacts and pressed call.

  “We’re ready. Say the word and we’ll be on our way,” Gwen said over the line.

  “I need…Mom.” I swallowed back a sob of emotion.

  “I’ll put her on the phone—”

  “No.” I struggled to keep my breathing normal. “Just get her here.”

  “You got it, sweetheart. We’ll be on the next flight out.”

  I hadn’t wanted to ask my mother to come. She needed time to recover from her twelve long years of being stuck in Purgatory. She had all the signs of Post-Trauma
tic Stress Disorder. Making her relive her experience could cause all kinds of awful consequences to her mental health, but she had information none of the rest of us did. A virtual roadmap of Hell.

  Lailah appeared, holding a violet blanket and matching pillow. Did the woman have anything in a neutral color other than clothes? “Here,” she said. “Philip and I will be in my room if you need us.”

  I raised an eyebrow. Sharing a bed?

  She ignored my mental question. “There’s a new toothbrush in the bathroom, and I laid out some pajamas for you to borrow.” She retreated toward her room.

  “Did you know Philip is Dan’s father?”

  With her back to me, she paused in her doorway. “Does it matter?”

  “Not really.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Yes, I knew.”

  My chest tightened with irritation. “Did it ever occur to you that might make him more susceptible to Meri’s magic?”

  Her lips pressed into a thin line as she clutched the door frame, knuckles white. “How was I supposed to know Meri was Philip’s mate? Or even that both of us were being controlled by her? Don’t you think I’d have done something different if I’d known?”

  Meri had managed to possess Dan through a portrait her soul had been trapped in. Using Dan’s energy, she found a way to eventually control Lailah, as well.

  “One would think so,” I said.

  She winced when my tone came out colder than I’d meant it to.

  I bit the side of my cheek. “Sorry.”

  “Whatever. Good night.”

  “Wait.” There was something else I had to know. “Have you been in touch with Philip this whole time?”

  She shook her head. “No one ever knows how to find Philip unless he wants them to.” The door shut silently behind her, leaving me alone in the living room.

  I sagged against the velvet couch and closed my eyes. I didn’t mean to be so short with Lailah. I couldn’t help myself. The mind-reading, her soul guardianship over Dan, and her history with Kane grated on my last nerve. She was too close to me and the people I loved. Somehow, I had to move past my possessive tendencies. We all needed as much help as we could get.

 

‹ Prev