DARK LEGACY
Book 3
of
THE DARK TRILOGY
A novel by
Nancy K. Duplechain
Copyright 2014 by Nancy K. Duplechain
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphical, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and punishable by law.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Visit author facebook page: www.facebook.com/NancyKDuplechain
For Uncle Charles, who taught me piano, gardening, and how to laugh at people who tick me off.
“Vud you care for some varm milk?”
Table of Contents
Prologue
Part I - Book of Noah
1 - A Midnight Guest
2 - The Boy Who Wouldn’t Fly
3 - The Catalyst
4 - The New Job
5 - Road Trip
6 - Old Flame
7 - Visitors in the Garden District
8 - The Recruiter
9 - Re-growth
10 - Family Reunion
11 - Dying Ember
12 - Sins of the Father
13 - Dreams That Were and Dreams to Come
Part II - Lyla’s Interlude
1 - A Special Gift
2 - The New Kid
3 - Linked
Part III - A Dark Legacy
1 - Bullies
2 - Nightmares and Care Bears
3 - The Ties That Bind
4 - The Night Guard
5 - Promises Kept
6 - The Glamorous Life
7 - Crash
8 - City of the Dead
9 - In the Deep
10 - The Withered Garden
11 - The Devil’s Hour
12 - The Key
13 - Tunnel Vision
14 - The Illusion
15 - Back to the Bayou
16 - The Dark of Night
17 - Bienvenue à la Maison
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Following the battle that took place on the little bayou behind Clothilde’s, I learned much of what Noah kept hidden. He had confided in Miles who was the only father he had ever known, and Miles, in turn, thought of him as his son.
Looking back, I realize how foolish and stubborn I was. The events that surrounded my life were scattered pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, so scattered that even Father Ben couldn’t figure out where all the pieces fit. He knew more than all of us, though, and so he, too, confided in Miles.
As for Lyla, it took a few days for her to tell me everything. When she did, I wept with joy and grief. While I had lost some things, I hadn’t lost everything.
But I came close. And I learned that a legacy can be extinguished as easily as a flame.
Part I
Book of Noah
He hesitantly turned around so that she could see what he was talking about. They looked like tiny shards of amethyst struggling to break away from his shoulder blades. She lightly traced a finger over one of them. He bristled.
“Does it hurt?” she asked.
“Feels a little sore.”
They looked so much like gem stones that she was expecting them to feel jagged and rough, but they were soft and yielded to her touch.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” he said sadly, and pulled away from her, putting his shirt back on.
She leaned back against the wall, bringing her knees up into her chest and resting her arms across them. She watched as he nervously paced the room, and then she smiled softly. “I think it’s beautiful.”
“Nadia, nothing about being like them is beautiful.”
1
A Midnight Guest
Twenty-three years ago …
Selena heard the softest sound, like a bird rustling its feathers. It was just after midnight, and she was in her dining room, clearing the table from the Mardi Gras dinner party she had earlier in the night. She quickly forgot about the rustling noise when a dessert fork slipped off the stack of plates in her hand and fell to the floor, smudging the antique rug with remnants of king cake.
“Damn it!” she hissed.
She carefully set the stack of dishes back on the table, grabbed a nearby napkin and dipped it into a half empty glass of ice water. She gently dabbed the icing with the wet end of the napkin and frowned at the small stain.
Selena had been extremely careful to take good care of the two-story Creole townhouse and everything in it when she inherited it from her grandfather a year before. It had been in the family for five generations and was even listed as a historical home. She was going to make sure she took as much pride in the house as her grandfather had.
Frustrated with her lack of progress, she stood up, intent to hunt down an old bottle of stain remover she thought she had in the back of the kitchen pantry. She turned around and was confronted with a man standing in the archway between the living room and the dining room. Selena let out a startled gasp and put a hand over her quickly-beating heart.
“I’m so very sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” said the man. He was about six feet tall with jet black hair, chiseled jaw and intelligent, gray eyes. He was young, perhaps in his late thirties, handsome and lean in a tailored black suit and white shirt, no tie. Despite his outward appeal, Selena stayed alert. She grew up in the city and knew how to take care of herself.
“What are you doing in my house?”
The man smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come in, but I knocked and no one answered. I saw the lights on and—”
“I didn’t hear any knocking,” she said. “If you don’t mind, I’ll ask you to leave before I get my grandfather’s gun right behind me in that cabinet. I always keep it loaded.”
The man raised his eyebrows, his eyes twinkling and a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. “It’s your grandfather I was here to see. George always expected me on Mardi Gras. Kind of an old tradition.”
“You knew Pop George?”
“Knew?”
Selena brushed a strand of her long, brown hair behind her ear and, softening her voice, said, “Sorry to tell you this, but he died almost a year ago, Mr. …”
“You can call me Raymond. I’m very sorry to hear about your grandfather,” he said with sincere regret in his voice.
Selena took a step closer, more open and friendly. “He died of a heart attack last year, right after Mardi Gras. How did you two know each other?”
“I own a jewelry store in the Quarter. He came in there about ten years ago, looking for a gift for his granddaughter—for you. I showed him a small ruby cross on a gold chain. He said it was for your sixteenth birthday.”
Selena reached inside and below the neckline of her dress and pulled up the little ruby cross with the gold chain that she wore every day since Pop George had given it to her a decade ago. “I never take it off,” she said, a little melancholy in her voice.
Raymond smiled. “Nor should you. A keepsake like that should be worn close to the heart. One day, perhaps, your future husband will get you something as nice,” he said, nodding toward her engagement ring on the hand that was holding the cross.
She glanced at her ring with a slight frown. “My boyfriend’s in Los Angeles on a business trip rig
ht now. He works a lot. Anyway, like I said, I’m sorry to tell you that Pop George passed.”
“Thank you. Sorry to barge in on you. I’ll be on my way.” He turned to leave.
“Wait,” said Selena. “Can I offer you anything? I just had a big dinner party, and I have all these leftovers.”
“It’s late, and I’d hate to keep you up.”
She smiled. “It’s okay, really. It’ll only take a couple of minutes to heat up the gumbo, and the rice is still good.”
He thought it over a second and then nodded. “Sounds wonderful. Thank you.”
She started for the kitchen. “Sorry, I didn’t get your name,” he said.
She shot a flirtatious smile his way. “Selena. Selena Dallion.”
Raymond had his fill of gumbo while he and Selena traded stories about her grandfather who was a pediatrician for decades in the Irish Channel of New Orleans. She found herself quite smitten by the gentleman, and he seemed to feel the same about her. This only made Selena feel guilty about her fiancé, which must have shown on her face.
“Is everything okay?” said Raymond.
She looked a little surprised that he could pick up on that. “Oh, yes. I guess it’s just getting late, and I’m a little tired. But thank you for all the memories of Pop George,” she smiled.
“He was a good friend,” he said, starting to clear the dishes.
Selena reached for them instead. “Oh, no. Please don’t worry about that. I’ll just put them in the dishwasher after you leave.”
Raymond stopped her hands, holding them, which confused Selena for a moment. “I don’t have to go,” he said, looking at her intently.
She was speechless for a moment, caught between wanting him and her love for her fiancé. “Oh … I can’t. I’m sorry.” She looked down at the floor, embarrassed, and gently started to pull her hands from his, but he didn’t want to let go. She looked back at him with slight alarm, and he picked up on this.
He smiled like a Cheshire cat. “Forgive me.” He released her hands. “I seem to have gotten caught up in the moment and misread signals. Not the first time it happens. I hope you have a pleasant evening and congratulations on your upcoming wedding.” Without another word, he got up and walked out the front door.
“Sorry!” called Selena, but he was already gone. She quietly closed and locked the front door and leaned against it, bewildered and a little sad. Had she been rude? Was she sending mixed signals? She supposed she was flirting a bit, but it had been a while since someone paid attention to her like that.
Selena loaded the dishwasher and went upstairs to change for bed. She sat at the antique vanity in her bedroom and brushed her hair absentmindedly, thinking about her visitor downstairs. The whole thing was starting to make her feel uneasy, but she supposed she was just very tired, as it was nearly 2:00AM. She shuddered, a chill hitting her just then, and wanted nothing more than to crawl under the covers and get to sleep.
She set her brush down and went to turn out the light on the little milk glass lamp on the vanity when she saw him in the reflection of the mirror. He was standing in the corner of her bedroom, near the window with the breeze from outside blowing the silk curtains about. Despite her shock, she had just enough time to wonder why the window was open before he lunged for her.
***
Selena rushed into the bathroom. “What, baby? What is it?”
Her fourteen-year-old son stood shirtless with his back to the mirror, a panicked look on his face. In the mirror’s reflection, she saw small trickles of blood all over his back, coming from numerous raised bumps in an odd pattern on his shoulder blades.
“Mom! What is it?”
She knew she’d have to tell him, and she had dreaded this day ever since she found out she was pregnant. She looked at her own reflection and noticed the saturation of silver in her dark hair and the lines around her mouth and eyes. She was still pretty, but felt old now, and she supposed secrets aged you. She wet a wash cloth and tenderly wiped away the trickles of blood and inspected the bumps on his skin.
“Does it hurt?” she asked him.
“It’s sore. What is it? Do I need to go to the doctor?”
She ran her finger over one of the bumps and felt something lightly scratch her fingertip. Below the surface of skin, the bumps looked like little dark masses ready to burst forth. She handed him an old shirt. “Put this on and come meet me in my bedroom.”
A couple of minutes later, there was a small knock on her bedroom door. “Come in,” she said. The door opened a little, and she saw her son’s head peek in, his dark hair hanging down around his gray eyes. She motioned for him to enter. He went in and sat with her on her bed.
“Mom, what’s happening to me?”
She smiled sympathetically at him and ran her fingers through his hair and gently cupped his face in her hands. “I was afraid of this, baby.”
“What, Mom?”
“You’re becoming like your father, Noah.”
2
The Boy Who Wouldn’t Fly
Anger … shame … disbelief … rage.
The next two years of Noah’s life spiraled out of control as he tried to come to grips with what he was and what happened to his mother. His straight A’s turned to D’s and F’s, having to go to summer school. He lost best friends he’d had since first grade, and he’d been arrested several times, mostly for petty theft and vagrancy. Hiding his wings became a source of great frustration that led to being bullied in gym class when he didn’t want to undress in front of the other boys. After winning several fights and even putting one boy in the hospital, no one picked on him anymore—at least not to his face.
Selena was at the end of her rope. She was a struggling single mother, working as a second grade teacher at St. Anthony Elementary. The more Noah got into trouble, the more the school frowned upon Selena’s ability to balance work and home. The school fired her after one dark night, shortly after Noah’s sixteenth birthday.
***
“Just relax, my baby. Breathe in, and let your mind be at peace,” came the comforting words of Cee Cee Baptiste. Selena sat at a little table across from Cee Cee, the rotund and beautiful Creole of Color who owned a Voodoo store in the French Quarter.
“I’m trying,” said Selena, who sounded worn and tired, and on the verge of tears.
Cee Cee reached across the table and held both of Selena’s hands in hers. The strong scent of myrrh filled the air around them. Selena had a rosary in one hand, and some sage in the other. Between her and Cee Cee was a lit white candle in front of a picture of the Virgin Mary.
“It’s going to be okay, my baby!” said Cee Cee, with delight and reassurance.
Selena let a couple of tears fall, and she nodded, wanting to believe her.
“If you think Noah’s bad, I’m gonna have to introduce you to my niece Ruby one day.” Cee Cee laughed loudly. “My sister Lornette up the wall with Ruby. Lawd!” She laughed again, and that made Selena smile. “There you go! I like to see that beautiful smile.”
Selena pulled away the hand holding the rosary and wiped the tears from her eyes. “He’s all I have, you know? I love him so much, but he won’t listen to me.”
“Lot of kids like that when they that age.”
Selena frowned. “He’s different.”
“Different how?”
She hesitated.
Cee Cee laughed again. “Baby, you been coming to me to help you for almost a year now. You can tell me anything.”
“I know … it’s just that I … I don’t know how to start. I don’t think you’d believe me. I don’t believe it myself sometimes, except when I catch a glimpse of Noah’s back.”
Cee Cee looked perplexed. “His back?”
Selena looked away, and gently withdrew her other hand and placed the sage on the table. She tucked her rosary into her purse and got up. “Can I think about this and get back to you next time? I want to tell you what’s going on, but … you know.”
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p; Cee Cee smiled kindly. “I know, my baby. You take all the time you need.” She got up, threw a warm shall over her shoulders and walked Selena to her car.
“Thank you again, Cee Cee,” she said as she slid into the driver’s seat.
“Anytime!”
Selena turned the key to start the car, but nothing happened. The red light for the battery came on. She tried again, and still nothing. “Oh, come ON!” She tried once more and still nothing.
“Battery?”
Selena replied by putting her head back on the head rest and staring at the ceiling.
“Hang on! I’ll be right back.” Cee Cee returned with her car—an old ‘80-something Grand Marquis—and pulled up next to Selena’s Tercel so that they were facing each other. She got the jumper cables out of her trunk and hooked up the cars. She gave it several tries, but the battery was completely dead.
Selena put her face in her hands and rested them against the steering wheel, wondering how the night could get any worse. She still had papers to grade for tomorrow, and she had not even prepared dinner for Noah, though she couldn’t be sure that he was home at all.
The driver’s side door opened, and Cee Cee motioned for Selena to get out. “Come on. I’m gonna drive you home.”
“Oh, no. You don’t have to do that. I can get a cab or take the street car.”
“Oh, hush, you! You don’t live that far. And I’m not about to let you wait out in the cold for the street car.”
Selena thought it over.
“Well come on! Hurry before my chariot turn into a pumpkin!” she laughed loudly, and Selena gave her a big hug.
When they got to Selena’s house, she told Cee Cee, “Thank you again!”
“You don’t need to keep thanking me! I’m glad to do it.” She gave her a big, warm smile.
Nancy K. Duplechain - Dark Trilogy 03 - Dark Legacy Page 1