Cover Spell (Ivy Grace Spell Series Book 2)

by T. A. Foster

  “Two tickets to our future.” He laughed and pulled Josette to him. “We’ll be in D.C. by the morning, I’ll check in with my unit, and then put you on a train to California. Let’s go. It looks like the train is about to leave.”

  Right on cue, the hollow whistle sounded. The train would leave in ten minutes. Josette looped her arm through Luke’s, he reached for her suitcase, and they walked to platform number nine.

  Just outside of the passenger car, Luke stopped and stared into her eyes. “Thank you.” He paused. “You've made me the happiest man in the world, and if anything should happen to me, remember this moment. Remember us just like this—happy, fearless, and in love.”

  She smiled like a girl in love. “Oui, my love, don’t say that. Nothing can separate us now. We’re together.”

  I believed her. They were each other’s air to breathe, and I couldn’t imagine them being apart. She slid her arms around his neck and reached on the tips of her toes to kiss him. They stood there for what seemed like the full ten minutes before the train’s whistle blew again.

  Luke lifted Josette’s bag from the platform and eased her onto the train. I watched through the glowing windows of the passenger car as the couple found seats and snuggled together for the ride ahead of them. They were absorbed in each other’s eyes. I saw Josette giggle, and imagined the sound of her girlish laugh.

  The colossal diesel engine began to growl, and I stepped back as the train wheels chugged to life and carried Josette and Luke out of the station, and toward their new life together. My heart sighed with relief for them. They had escaped whatever heartache Josette’s father would have placed upon them. I was ecstatic knowing they had safely fled New Orleans hand in hand.

  I walked out of Terminal Station and glanced at the sky. The lightning had ceased, and a thick fog hovering over the city replaced the drizzling rain. Flying back to the consul’s residence was my quickest and easiest option for returning to the seam. No need for trolley cars. I took a few steps around the corner of the station so no one would feel the gust of wind created by my take off. I hastily brought my arms in and leaped into the air in a tight, rotating spiral.

  I breathed in a full breath of the cool, heavy air. I felt like I had just put my little sister on that train and sent her out into the world. I stayed just above the treetops and streetcar wires, and followed the route back to Chestnut Street and the French consul’s residence.

  I landed in the courtyard behind the kitchen and cautiously climbed the stairs to the kitchen door. The cat was curled up in front of the stove, his bowl of milk empty. I avoided the sleeping creature and crept toward the hallway that would lead me to the spiral staircase circling the foyer’s entrance. Once I turned the corner, I heard the sound of smashing china and a male voice bellowing through the house.

  “Where is she? Tell me now. Where is my daughter?” That must be the consul.

  I heard something else shatter. Nervously, I crept closer to the foyer.

  “We don’t know, Monsieur.” A woman was scurrying to pick up broken pieces of what I guessed was a vase by the look of the scattered flowers and water puddles on the parquet floor. “I saw her come home. She was in her room after the ball. I thought she was sleeping.”

  A slight man with dark hair and porcelain skin furiously paced the foyer. He wore a tuxedo jacket with coattails. Parked next to the front door was the butler, still holding the man’s top hat and jacket. He had the same blank expression he did when he witnessed Josette’s escape.

  “I want to know where she is immediately!” the angry father barked.

  He reached for another vase on the pedestal next to his portrait.

  “No, no, Monsieur! Please!”

  The housekeeper had both hands reached out to stop the angry man from smashing the vase, but he threw it down the hall in my direction. I watched as the pieces broke around my feet, narrowly missing my legs.

  He waved the delicate sequined mask I had seen on Josette’s bed earlier. Another mask was lying on the floor among the vase and flower debris.

  “Find her,” he ordered.

  He stormed up the stairs, and I could hear him slamming the upstairs doors and marching through the hallway that led to Josette’s room. I realized I would be stuck at the consul’s house until things calmed down. Retreating to the closet and the seam would be impossible as long as he was scouring the house.

  The housekeeper turned to the stoic butler. “I’ve never seen him like this in all the times she’s gone missing. Where could she have gone now? We need to find her before he does.”

  “Yes, that appears to be the case, but if she has run away, she doesn’t want him to find her.” The butler eyed the woman, and she sighed.

  She swept the china scraps into a dustpan and picked up the stems of the wilted flowers. Her shoulders sank. “I love that girl. She is like my daughter. I never thought she would actually run away. Oh dear, what’s going to happen to her?”

  “Jane, we both know who she is with. She’s going to be fine.”

  The stiff man threw Jane a reassuring smile then quickly returned to his statue pose as the angry consul ran down the stairs.

  “Meyers, call in my men at once. I want them here now.” He watched as the butler stepped over the broken vases and retreated to one of the houses back rooms. “And you, clean up this mess!” He waved his hands in the air while Jane hurriedly collected the china fragments.

  As the events unfolded before me, I better understood why Josette had been so anxious to escape the rule of her father. He was hot-tempered, rude, and unreasonable.

  A few minutes later, the doorbell buzzed and Meyers crossed the foyer to greet the late night guests.

  He nodded at the dark strangers in front of him, and led the men into the parlor room where Josette’s father was sitting with a newly poured cup of tea. Jane placed a tray of assorted sandwiches next to the silver tea service on the coffee table.

  “Is there anything else, Monsieur Henri?” she asked.

  My ears perked at the sudden calmness in the voice that followed. “No, Jane. This is fine. Merci.”

  He smiled at the woman and she retreated. He turned his attention to the sugar cubes dissolving in his cup of tea. One of the men reached for the door, and I sidestepped his arm when he pulled the handles and closed the parlor doors.

  “She’s gone! How did you let her escape?” Consul Henri’s rage had returned in full force. “Your job is to keep Josette here! You never let her out of your sight!”

  The men’s eyes were locked on their shoes, and they stood while the irate father belted them with verbal assaults.

  “How could you let her go? She’s out there. With him.”

  His face was within inches of the two men, and his eyes burrowed holes in their foreheads. He didn’t back down. Instinctively, my body tightened, and I inched closer to the wall without making a sound. He didn’t know I was there, but I felt safer farther from his reach.

  “If anything happens to her, it is your fault. Do you understand? There will be consequences.” He said the last part with a hiss.

  The men nodded in unison.

  “That boy has been relentless. Chasing her, filling her head with ideas, trying to take her from the consulate, from France, from me. Luke Green is the type of boy who has taken advantage of my daughter’s delicate, fragile nature. It’s quite obvious that he wants her money, her influence, and I don’t want to think about what else.”

  All I could think about was how tender and loving Luke was with Josette. I doubt the consul cared about those things. The father’s eyes grew hard and piercing.

  “He must be stopped, and she must be returned home. Immediately. Josette is scheduled to leave for France in a few days. Find her! Leave here and find her!” He threw his hand in the air and dismissed the pair.

  “Oui, Monsieur.”

  The two men exchanged a private look and hurried through the doors. I slipped back into the hall to watch them go.

&n
bsp; Meyers held the door open and nodded to each of the men as they stepped into the drizzle. Even in the intense atmosphere of the house, my inner girl giggled. They weren’t going to find Josette tonight. She and Luke were long gone on the Crescent train, on their way to a new life, a happy and love-filled life. I just hoped there would always be enough distance between the couple and her father’s determined pursuit.

  “Psst. Psst. Meyers.” Jane was hiding at the end of the hall near the kitchen door. “Meyers.” She waved at the butler to follow her.

  His statuesque frame closed the front door, stepped back, and then walked past the parlor toward Jane. Consul Henri looked like he was preoccupied with his cup of tea, and from the scene I witnessed, probably a few deep thoughts about terrorizing his daughter’s lover. He stared into the empty fireplace grate while twirling the side of this mustache with his index finger.

  I followed Meyers into the kitchen. “Yes, Jane, what is it?”

  “We can’t let those brutes chase Josette. We have to help her, Meyers.” Her voice was hushed and urgent. She wiped her hands across her apron and pretended to straighten the tea set on the counter. “After all, we’re the ones who sent her to Maritime Day last year where she met Luke. I feel responsible.”

  Meyers strolled over to the housekeeper. “Never speak of that in here. He’s already in a foul mood. That girl was going to do what she pleased regardless of whether we helped her or not. She would have found a way to the parade without us.”

  “Yes, but that parade was full of sailors; of course she was going to meet one. And we didn’t stop there. We helped him sneak in here and we helped her sneak out. If Monsieur Henri finds out, we’ll be on the street.” She was wringing her hands, and the skin on her fingers turned a bright red.

  “Shhh, Jane. We won’t speak of this again. Josette is gone. And if he does find out, I’m not worried about being on the street. It will be far worse than that.”

  Jane’s eyes welled with tears. “You don’t think she’s coming back, Meyers? Do you know something you’re not telling me?”

  The butler lifted a stiff arm toward the weepy woman and placed it on her shoulder. “No, no. Pull yourself together, woman. She’s gone. She’ll be much happier.” He paused. “And safer. Now, take him some more tea and check on him.”

  I thought he was going to tell the housekeeper how he had seen Josette sneak out of the kitchen with her packed suitcase, but he prodded Jane along and dished out bits of comfort. It was obvious he had a soft spot for Josette; it almost felt paternal.

  Sometimes this was my favorite part of Time Spelling. I only caught a slice of life—a few conversations here and there—but it was enough to piece together the dynamics that existed between people.

  Jane tugged at the bottom of her apron and dabbed each of her teary eyes. Her tray was reloaded with a fresh pot of tea, lemon, honey, and bowl of sugar cubes. She pulled her shoulders back and marched down the hall to the parlor.

  “Monsieur? Can I get anything else for you? You must be so, so worried about Josette.” Jane fussed over the angry consul. Meyers entered the room only a few seconds later.

  I stifled a yawn that kept brimming to the surface. I looked at the clock pendulum ticking above the mantle. It was late. It was time to return to present-day New Orleans and the busy bed and breakfast. It wouldn’t be long before Mr. and Mrs. Betts would be bustling around the house, preparing a morning feast for their guests.

  While the small group was engrossed in discussion about Josette, I crept up the staircase using the strategic footpath I learned from Josette.

  Confident everyone was downstairs, I quietly closed the closet door and focused on the wall. “Unfold.” I smiled at the first glimpse of the glittery curtain waving in front of my fingertips. I clutched my sapphire ring with my left hand, stepped through the veil, and left 1945 behind me.

  New Orleans, Present Day

  FINN AND I walked back to the Hotel François through the misty rain. As if we were on autopilot, we took the elevator to the fifth floor and walked into my room.

  I felt slightly defeated that I had let the only potential lead run out of my sight. Finn did his best to cheer me up. After my failed attempt to pursue the man with the bruised cheek, we gave up tracking him on the sidewalk and decided we should refocus our efforts on the Locality Spell. It was our best chance of finding Emmy Harper. The police didn’t have any leads, and each hour that passed, the media frenzy grew, along with my increased worry that something bad had happened to the star.

  We took turns drying off with the hotel’s fluffy white towels. It took several of my adamant pleas to keep Finn from opening the door while I changed out of my rain-drenched shorts and top. We both knew it wouldn’t take much for him to spell his way into the bathroom, but he waited for me in the room. For once, he behaved as a good ex should.

  During the stroll back to the hotel, I told Finn the details from my Time Spell to 1945 when I first discovered Josette and Luke.

  My encounter with them was what led me to write Masquerade. It was the reason we were all in New Orleans right now, including Emmy. Maybe it was fitting Finn was here after all. If we hadn’t broken up, I never would have traveled to New Orleans in the first place. In a weird way, this story was coming full circle.

  Two years ago, I was so wrapped up in Josette and Luke’s story that I couldn’t forget them. The night I traveled back to the bed and breakfast after watching the young lovers ride off on the train, I shook off aching fatigue, cracked open my laptop, and searched for any information I could on Luke, Emmy, and Consul Henri. I wanted to make sure Mr. and Mrs. Betts had given me the right information.

  If I hadn’t known Josette’s true fate, I wouldn’t have been as delighted as I was when I read online that the French consul’s daughter was reported missing in 1945 and never found. Her father offered tremendous awards, enlisted French and American resources, but she eluded discovery. I almost hugged my pillow. Josette and Luke had escaped the constrictive reins of her father after all. I wondered what happened to them. Did they make it to Acapulco? Did Josette have her seaside garden and Luke his handy workshop? Did they have the perfect white picket fence marriage with three beautiful French- and Spanish-speaking children? In my mind they did. They had all of those things and more. Maybe I could plan a Mexico trip and check in on them some day.

  As soon as I finished my quick online research that corroborated the Betts house history, I opened a blank page on my screen and started typing. The words flowed from my fingertips. It felt like magic was at work when the story took form so easily. A flurry of ideas on what might have happened to the lovebirds sprung to life, and I couldn’t stop writing.

  Masquerade was a piece of myself that I hadn’t shared with Finn, and I wanted him to understand that my writing was a deep part of the new Ivy he didn’t really know. I wanted him to understand why I had to write Josette’s and Luke’s story. I needed him to if we had a chance of— I couldn’t even complete the sentence. I was confused about so many things right now.

  “Babe, you ok?”

  “Yeah, just thinking.” I tried to sound normal.

  “Uh-oh.”

  “None of this makes sense. Why did that man give himself away? It was like he wanted me to see him a second time. When I saw him this morning in the lobby, I felt something dark, something sinister lingering about him. I could feel it in the lobby and I felt it in the restaurant tonight before I even saw him on the street.”

  “What do you mean ‘dark’?” he asked.

  “You know. It’s not human. It’s some kind of dark magic.”

  “Huh.” Finn seemed preoccupied.

  I turned toward him. “Maybe you can piece this all together. Aren’t you the one who is always reminding me that you’re a detective? We’ve got to do the Locality Spell.” I realized I was pacing around the room and stopped mid-stride. “I need to get a better look at the mystery man. He has something to do with her. He is connected. I can feel it
.”

  Finn’s hair had that perfectly tousled look that I loved, still a little wet from the rain, but mostly dry from the towel. He poured two glasses of wine from the minibar, and held out a tumbler glass for me.

  “Sorry, no actual wine glasses in your bar. We never got to finish our bottle from dinner. Here.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. I gave up on my hair and the quest for answers, and tossed the towel on the bed while reaching for the glass. My fingers grazed the tips of his, and little sparks fired through my hand, starting a familiar charge my body knew well.

  The wine was sweet, and I drank it as if it were water. I looked at Finn over the edge of my glass. He had his glass tipped back, but his blue eyes had the same look they did in the rainy courtyard, insanely sexy and mischievous. This wasn’t the first night his come-hither look had undone all of my rational, good-girl thinking.

  “If you think the kidnapping has something to do with the trench coat guy, I trust your instincts. I’ll work on getting something that belongs to Emmy so you can work your magic.” He winked at me, and I felt little electric tingles just below my skin. I held back a smile. “Let’s call Ian in the morning and get the Locality Spell done so we can find her, and close this case. There’s someone here who really needs my attention.”

  Before I could protest, he had both his arms clasped around me, and his mouth toyed with the delicate space below my ear. With each kiss he placed on my shoulder, I felt my resolve weaken and give way to the irresistible pull between us. That pull was stronger than I was. Stronger than him. I gasped when I felt his teeth nipping into my shoulder. His lips hovered over my skin to allow his fingers to slide under the straps of my tank top and push them down my arms, one agonizingly long second at a time. I tilted my head back, absorbing every touch he infused on my skin.

  I wanted him to suspend my body in this feeling of anticipation for his touch, and at the same time rip every stitch of clothing off my skin. The glass of wine slipped from my fingertips as the hunger for Finn claimed me. With a gentle thud, it landed by our feet.