Sweet Evangeline (Moon Magic Book 2)

by Sable Hunter

  Evangeline kissed his throat, then his jaw line and the corners of his mouth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Tiger is a wonderful gift. And you give me so much more than that.”

  He was running his hands over her back and down across her bottom, cupping her hips and pulling her up tight against him. “What do you mean? What have I ever given you?”

  She pulled back from his embrace but kept one hand on his chest. “I have you. Have you looked in the mirror lately? You’re a six-foot-three, walking, talking, breathing dream. And I get to touch you, love you, anytime I want.” Then she walked around him, looking him up and down. “I can look in your eyes—did you know that I can glimpse Heaven in your eyes?”

  “Evangeline, you’re embarrassing me.” His words were saying one thing, but his tone and his eyes were all—‘tell me more’.

  “And your smile. When you smile at me, my heart jumps up in my throat. You light up my world with your smile.” Picking up one of his large, square hands, she placed a soft, sultry kiss right in the middle of his palm. “When you touch me, I melt.” She stepped closer to him, and his arms immediately enclosed her, drawing her to him. “And I feel safe, right here, in your embrace. You have strong shoulders to lean on, and a rock-hard chest to cuddle up to. Love, you’re the real deal, the complete package. Next to you, nothing else has any value to me. You put any other gift that one might want to shame.”

  “God, I want you. And we have the house to ourselves, don’t we?” He picked her up and headed to the bedroom, laying her gently on top of the covers. But before he could join her, his cell phone rang. As much as he would like to have ignored it, his training did not allow for that type of luxury. Checking the display, his next words surprised her. “It’s my dad.”

  “Hello.” Eric turned around and sat beside Evangeline on the bed. She wasn’t intentionally eavesdropping, but she could hear every word.

  “Where are you, son?”

  Evangeline watched the play of emotions across Eric’s face. “I’m at my girlfriend’s house.”

  It had been some time since he had heard from his dad and Eric could only wonder what the problem was. Regular phone calls were not Charles McAllister’s style, he only called when something was wrong or he wanted something. “Your girlfriend, you mean

  Jessica don’t you?”

  “No sir, Jessica and I broke up some time ago. Where are you, Dad?

  “Sylvia and I are standing outside the door of your condo.”

  “You came to see me?” It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see his dad, but Sylvia rubbed him the wrong way, and besides, their coming felt like an intrusion. Evangeline stepped closer to him and laid a small hand on his arm. ‘Invite them over,’ she mouthed silently.

  “Yes, son. We need to talk.” Shit. That couldn’t be good.

  “Why don’t you come over here? I’ll give you the address.” His father listened to the directions and soon the call was over.

  “I have a pot of gumbo cooking; do you think they would like to stay for dinner?” Evangeline rubbed his broad back. He leaned back into her caress, hoping against hope the visit wasn’t going to be a disaster. Surely they hadn’t seen that photograph in the local paper, the one that showcased Evangeline and him during the lightning storm.

  “We’ll see, sweetheart.”

  As soon as Eric opened the door, he knew this wasn’t a friendly visit. “Hello, Dad, Sylvia. Won’t you come in?”

  Evangeline hung back, allowing Eric to take the lead. She was surprised that she could see no resemblance, whatsoever, between father and son. Eric must have taken after his mother and her family. The woman with him was quite a bit younger than the Baptist preacher, but she had a distinctly hard and unyielding look about her. Evangeline stepped up beside Eric and he automatically put his arm around her. “Dad, this is Evangeline Martel. Evangeline this is Charles and Sylvia McAllister.” Evangeline held her hand out to Sylvia, but the gesture was met with a sneer and a rolling of the eyes. Stunned at the rejection, Evangeline let her hand drop. She heard and felt Eric’s reaction; his harshly indrawn breath and the way his body tensed up.

  “Eric, could we talk to you, alone.” The older man refused to meet her eyes. She eased out of Eric’s hold and moved three steps backward.

  “I’ll put on some coffee.” Evangeline made her escape to the kitchen.

  “Eric, what do you think you’re doing?”

  “I don’t know what you mean, Dad.” Eric towered over his father, but he still spoke to him quietly and with respect.

  “That woman. We saw the picture in the paper. Are you involved with her?”

  “As involved as you can get. I love her, if that’s what you mean.”

  “She’s not one of us, son. You were raised to know better. We don’t mix with people like that.”

  Eric’s hands tightened into fists. Even though he knew he would never strike his dad, his muscles were reacting to the venom in his father’s voice. “What kind of people are you referring to?”

  “Pagans, witches, heathens, whatever you want to call them.”

  All this time, Sylvia stood back and let her husband do the talking. While they were engrossed in conversation with one another, she slipped out to find Evangeline.

  * * * *

  Evangeline was in the kitchen, leaning on the cabinet. She could hear their voices and knew she was the topic of conversation. Looking down at the floor, she wished it would open up and let her hide beneath the floorboards. Hearing the approaching footsteps, she turned to see Sylvia McAllister approaching. “I’ve never been this close to a witch before.”

  Evangeline turned to her. “You haven’t?”

  “No, but I can feel your darkness from across the room.” Evangeline didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything. Over the years, she had been faced with prejudice and curiosity, but never before with such outright hatred and disdain. About that time, Eric and his father walked into the kitchen. She could tell that Eric had been the one to prompt the move to where she was. Frankly, the hatred radiating off the other woman unnerved her. “Do you know what the Scripture says about women like you?”

  Evangeline did not answer. She refused to fight back against Eric’s father and his wife. Without waiting for an answer, Sylvia McAllister resumed her attack. “Scripture says, ‘Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.’” Without warning, the other woman stepped up and struck Evangeline hard in the face. “You are evil and I will pray every day that you soon die.”

  The blow was hard, but Evangeline did not move to strike back or to get away. Eric however was not as still. “That’s enough,” he yelled. “Get out, Dad, and take this viper of a wife with you. Evangeline is the most perfect woman God ever created. She is gentle and sweet; she saved my life and l love her more than you could ever know. She means everything to me and if you can’t deal with that—well, I’m sure I don’t have to explain why I refuse to put her into a situation to have to deal with you ever again. You treated my mother abominably, but you won’t get the chance to treat Evangeline that way.”

  “Your mother could have been a good woman. But, she got ensnared in Satan’s coils and I couldn’t save her. Did you know that she put a spell on me so that I would love her? She was evil and she tainted everything she touched.” Eric was appalled to see the light of insanity in his father’s eyes.

  “My mother wasn’t evil. Evangeline is not evil.” It took every bit of control he had, but Eric managed to keep his hands to himself. “It would be best if you left, now.”

  “We’ll be waiting, when you come to your senses.” The older man said as Eric held the door for them to leave.

  “You’ll be waiting a long time.” Eric said as he shut the door.

  Eric cradled her. Her fingers weren’t still; they held the material of his shirt as if it were a lifeline. “Eric, do you think I’m evil?”

  “I think you’re an angel.” Tender kisses were pressed upon her eyelids, absorbing the te
ars that remained.

  “I don’t want to come between you and your dad.”

  “I haven’t forgotten what he did to my mother, what he’s doing to you is just a continuation of his small-mindedness and prejudice. He and I have next to nothing in common.” He pulled her closer to him, his fingers raising her chin so she looked into his eyes. “You are my life. It’s not a hard choice. If I have to choose between you and him. I choose you. Hands down. No contest. Do you remember when you said you would walk away from everything and everyone for me?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Don’t you realize the same is true for me? A hundred times over.” His large body covered hers, symbolically protecting her from anything or anyone that would cause her harm.

  Evangeline joined her lips with his. One gentle kiss, then, she buried her head in his neck. “I love you.” She lay in his arms, trembling with need for him. Uncertainty flooded her soul. More than anything, she longed for him to seek her lips and his hands to move feverishly over her body as they had so often done before. He tightened his grip on her, pulling her close. But that was all. Later that night—there was more of the same—he held her, he cuddled her, but Eric made no move to make love to her. And she didn’t have the courage to instigate it herself. So Evangeline lay as still as she could, and longed for something that did not happen.

  * * * *

  Evangeline filled Tiger’s bowl up with cream. The kitten had perked right up, his hair had smoothed out and he no longer looked like a Rwandan refugee. Since the unfortunate incident with Eric’s parents, she had been subdued. Eric seemed to be completely supportive, never giving any indication whatsoever that the visit had made any difference in their relationship—except that for the past two nights they had slept in the bed together—just slept. And Evangeline was going crazy. He didn’t seem to want her anymore. He had to be having second thoughts about their relationship; that was the only explanation.

  Going over it and over it in her mind, guilt was her constant companion. How could she live with being the reason he and his family had no relationship?

  Despite the fact he had put their physical relationship on hold, Eric was beyond good to her, Evangeline couldn’t remember life before Eric. She didn’t want too. But what if his life would be better without her? He had left early that morning for a meeting with the chief. She knew he had put in for a transfer and she hoped he was doing it for himself and not just for her.

  The doorbell broke her reverie. Who in the world? Evangeline went to the door. Standing there was a man, tall; dark, about her age. “May I help you?” She waited for a prick of trepidation to trouble her, after Clark she should expect the unexpected. But it didn’t happen. There seemed to be no threat from this individual.

  He smiled. “Evangeline?”

  “Yes?”

  “I have a message for you.”

  “A message?”

  “Yes, from your mother.” He held out the drawing that proved his story. Evangeline took it in shaking hands and when she saw the statue of the Acadian Evangeline, she looked up at the stranger—ready to believe whatever he had to say.

  * * * *

  Eric couldn’t wait to get back to Evangeline. But then, that was the way it always was. He had good news; she would no longer have to hold her breath while he went out on another fire. The investigative unit would be a big change for him, but one gladly made for both of their sakes. Just thinking of Evangeline made his blood run hot; he wanted to make love to her. For the past two nights, they hadn’t made love, not even once. After the visit from his father, she had withdrawn. And even though she had spent the night in his arms, he hadn’t initiated sex. And neither had she. Not that he hadn’t wanted her, he wanted her with every breath he took, but he had also wanted her to realize he valued more about her than just her body. He loved her heart and her mind and her soul. But right now his body was screaming for a release only she could provide.

  Opening the door, he walked right into the living room and what met his eyes caused his heart to crash to his feet. Evangeline was in the arms of another man. She had her arms around his neck and he was literally holding her off the ground. She was laughing and smiling and this other man was looking at her as if she was the dearest thing in the world to him.

  But she wasn’t. She belonged to him, to Eric.

  “Evangeline?” he choked out her name. Flashes of Jessica and her betrayal careened through his mind.

  But upon hearing his voice, there was no sudden movements, no horrible looks of guilt. She pushed away from the young man and ran to his arms. To him, to Eric. He caught her easily and held her close. “Oh, Eric! Something wonderful has happened.” She fisted her hands in his hair and kissed him joyously.

  Eric looked over her shoulder at the other man. There was disappointment in his eyes, but what man wouldn’t be let down if Evangeline left their embrace. Funny, he couldn’t muster up any sympathy. She was his. “What would that be, love?” His eyes never left the eyes of the man whose arms she had just vacated.

  “My mother is alive!”

  Well, that wasn’t what he had been expecting. “Tell me everything.”

  They sat at the table together. Evangeline could barely sit still. She was torn listening to Zak’s explanation—wanting to call her family, and wanting to race to the car and head to her mother’s rescue. Eric kept a steadying hand on her arm. “Let’s take our time, sweetheart. Hear Zak out, we need to understand.” Looking at Zak, Eric tried to get the facts straight. “So, Aimee was taken by a man called Duvalier?”

  “Yes. He used the time during the chaos of Katrina to kidnap six people, including myself. I was only eighteen at the time.”

  “But how did he get away with it?” Eric asked.

  Evangeline looked at Zak and then at Eric, then she added her insight. “Katrina was a nightmare for New Orleans. There was no law. People were desperate; there were even those with guns, preventing people from crossing bridges to safety. What usually made sense didn’t; what was once wrong was right, up was down, in was out. Nothing made sense.” Evangeline’s voice faded, remember the horrors of the darkest days in the history of New Orleans.

  “Aimee said when the waters of the levee rushed into their neighborhood; she had been separated from her father. Trying to stay afloat in the deluge, she had clung to an overturned boat. When Duvalier and Black Eddie pulled her from the rushing water, she had no idea it was no opportune happenstance. They had been waiting for her. Even then that old wizard was blocking your mother’s psychic powers.” Zak spoke slowly and never took his eyes from Evangeline.

  “And how did they get you?”

  Eric watched the young man, watching his woman. He was having a hard time remaining civil. He couldn’t blame the younger man for wanting Evangeline. She was everything any man could want—but she belonged to him.

  “Black Eddie lured me with the hope that he knew where my sister had been taken. It was a lie, of course. And I never saw my family again—I don’t feel them anywhere—I don’t think they are still alive.”

  “How terrible, Zak. You must search for them. But, where has Black Eddie and Duvalier been holding you and my mother?” Evangeline asked, every muscle in her body primed to get up and go after her mother.

  “Shreveport.”

  “That was where Clark was headed when he crashed.”

  “The crash was no accident; Black Eddie messed with Clark’s head. He had no intention of killing himself; he thought he was coming back to the fold.”

  “For what purpose did Duvalier use you and my mom?” Tears were streaming down Evangeline’s face.

  “He has been using us to facilitate his organized crime efforts; drug running, casino gambling scams and money laundering. We have been forced to be tools so he can know where the police are, what the competition is doing, how to keep the casino from paying out, and aiding Duvalier’s mafia connections that do everything in Louisiana from marijuana farming in the swamps to influenci
ng the passage of bills in Baton Rouge.”

  * * * *

  As Zak explained the situation, Eric’s blood pressure evened out. This kid couldn’t be a threat to him. Could he? There seemed to be no doubt where Evangeline’s loyalty lay. Since they had been sitting there talking, Evangeline had clung to every word that had come out of the boy’s mouth. But her hands had clung to Eric. She had not let him go, not since the moment he had returned home. Their chairs were almost touching, but Evangeline was more in his chair than in hers. She had threaded the fingers of one hand through his and the other was constantly rubbing a pattern up and down his leg. He knew she meant nothing sexual by it, she was taking strength from him—strength that he willingly gave.

  “I want to go to Shreveport, Eric.” He was about to give her what she asked for, he would give her anything. But Zak’s words stopped him.

  “They will be gone by the time you get there.” Zak’s words brought a frown to Evangeline’s face. Her hand tightened on Eric’s leg. Without thought, he covered her hand with his own.

  “Where do you think they’ll be?” Eric asked pensively, already knowing the answer.

  “New Orleans” At Zak’s low confession, Eric felt fatalistic about the admission. He had known all along this would end up in the Crescent City—a place he didn’t know, a place of mystery and danger. But he would follow Evangeline to the gates of hell, if necessary.

  “Well, then that’s where we’ll go,” Eric heard himself say.

  * * * *

  With shaking hands, Evangeline picked up the phone. But before she could press the appropriate buttons, the phone rang in her hand.

  But, of course, she should have realized this would happen. There was no way Elizabeth could miss information like this. Once it hit Evangeline’s head, Elizabeth had access to the astounding fact that her sister was still among the living.