Southern Spirits (The Southern Series Book 3)

by Shelley Stringer

  “My fangs…Chandler, it was awful. I can’t. He would never understand,” she cried inconsolably into the phone.

  “Oh, Brie. Don’t you think eventually you can learn to control them, just like when you are thirsty?”

  “No, you don’t understand. I’m like a monster,” she whispered into the phone. “The venom…it’s so gross. It’s awful. I’m like a salivating dog. I couldn’t control it, and it drips…he can’t see me like this,” she sobbed. “This is never, ever going to work. He can’t see me like this! Ever!”

  “Oh, Brie…listen to me! We can get through this. This was just the first time you tried it. Brie, are you there?”

  “Yyyess,” she stammered as she answered me.

  “Please, Brie. Will you keep trying, for John? Brie, you just have to. John is grieving so hard for you, and he is inconsolable. We have to do this for him. I’ve never seen anyone mourn for someone the way he has for you. You just have to get better, so we can tell him. Please? Will you do this for John?”

  After a long pause, she drew a ragged breath. “Yes, for John.”

  “Good girl. I’ll call you tomorrow and check on you. Call Ev if you need me,” I told her.

  “Okay, Andie. I will,” she replied.

  “I love you, Brie. Get better because I need you too,” I whispered.

  “Oh, I love you too. Bye.”

  I laid the phone down on my chest and sighed. I wondered if her experience was really as repulsive as she said it was, or if she was being overly sensitive and hard on herself. After several moments, Ev came back into the room.

  “Ev, did I do the right thing, urging her to try this? Or did I make it worse?”

  “Oh, Bebe…who knows? We have to try something, or she won’t ever try to come back to him. Let’s just give her some more time. That is the one thing we seem to have plenty of,” he said as he shook his head.

  I wrapped my arms around my tummy, and then circled my abdomen with the palms of my hands.

  “Yes, I guess so,” I sighed.

  Everett settled down on the bed beside me and pulled me into his side.

  “So now that we need to keep you down again, what would you like to do to pass the time?”

  I cocked an eyebrow at him and decided now was the time to pump him for information.

  “You can entertain me with some trivia about yourself. Ev, have you ever been in love?” I widened my eyes and gave him my best attempt at a true southern belle pout. Evidently, it wasn’t good enough.

  “That would not be a very entertaining story, Ma Petit. That’s a story better left for an afternoon of mourning. What else can we talk about?” he urged, kissing me on top of my head.

  “Ev, you mentioned once you thought Lucien was after you and wanted to hurt someone you love. Why do you think that?”

  “I don’t think…I know. He is evil, pure and simple.”

  “But why you? What is your history?” I continued to urge him, sensing he might open up today.

  “My father. It has to do with my father,” he answered finally.

  “And he was an Aldon? You said he drank,” I added, remembering our conversation long ago when he told me a little about his family.

  “He was an Aldon, of sorts…or he tried to be for a time…” he trailed off sadly.

  “What do you mean, he tried to be?” I asked curiously.

  His brow furrowed deeply as he seemed to be reaching far in the past.

  “My father was a renegade, card-playing ladies’ man. Around 1840, he was working the Mississippi, jumping from steamboat to steamboat making a small fortune at playing cards. He met my mother on a trip into N’awlins at a party. They fell in love, and his plan was to go out one more time on the river and make enough gambling that he could marry her and settle down. On his trip back, he was attacked by Orcos in a river town and left for dead. He transformed,” he tried to continue, but I interrupted.

  “He wasn’t born an Aldon? He was human?” I asked incredulously.

  “No, he was human, until the attack. He went through a painful transformation by himself out in the swamps. An old Creole woman, who was Sange-Mele, found him still battling, and sensed he already hated himself and what he had become. She helped him to hunt and to curb his appetite with small animals and animal blood. Her brother came to visit her and vowed to help my father as he was a Sange-Mele as well. He had a friend who was Aldon, and they brought my father back to N’awlins to work with him. The friend who helped to work with him was Mr. George, my mother and grandmother’s butler.

  “That’s some coincidence,” I muttered. He glanced over at me.

  “No, he didn’t work for them then. He didn’t know my mother and grandmother at the time. He was a young man, and he lived with other Aldon. They worked with my father, until they were sure he had the control of an Aldon. Then they let him return to my mother. He was truthful with her, and Grandmother Wellington was quite impressed with everything he’d gone through to be reunited with her. They soon married, and mother gave birth to Evangeline first, then me. Everything seemed fine, until there was an attack one day from two boys down the road from our house. They were trash, and while my father was gone they broke into the house and raped my mother and Evangeline.” His voice softened, his eyes staring off in the distance.

  I drew my breath in…poor Mrs. Henrietta! I was nauseated, sickened at the picture in my head. As I studied Everett, I sensed an inner struggle and regret. “Everett, how old were you when this happened?”

  “Six or seven.”

  “Were you there when it happened? Did you witness any of it?” I asked quietly.

  “Yes. I was there. I was so young, and I couldn’t do anything except hide my eyes! I’ve always wished I had been older, that I could have fought them,”

  I placed my arms around his shoulders and pulled his head over on my shoulder.

  “Oh, Ev…a boy that young, even an Aldon, couldn’t have done anything.”

  “I know. I’ve come to terms with that, over these many years. It’s my father’s reaction which still troubles me. He returned home and of course, became enraged. He lost the control he’d worked so hard to achieve. He went on a rampage, and he attacked the two boys and their family, leaving them all for dead.

  I studied his reaction curiously. “Ev, I certainly understand his reacting that way. If it happened to me, to our girls…Banton would certainly do the same.”

  He shook his head. “No, after that. When he came back to us, he was changed. Drinking human blood did something to him. He began to drink, and to stay gone for longer and longer periods of time. He lost control of his inner beast. Nothing my mother did seemed to bring him back to us. Grandmother Wellington can be somewhat trying at times, and when he lost control with her, he bit her, transforming her. Mother ordered him out of the house. We haven’t seen him since.”

  “Oh, Everett…how traumatic!” I reached out and cupped his cheek in the palm of my hand.

  “So your father transformed your Grandmother. What about your mother?”

  “She transformed much earlier when they were first married. He lost control, in a fit of passion, you might say. It was an accident.”

  “Oh.” I could tell he was a little embarrassed to tell me. “I’m confused. How does all this tie in with Lucien?”

  “Lucien was one of the brothers who attacked my mother and sister. My father bit them and left them for dead. Only, they didn’t die. My family and anyone who I love, they seem to become a target. This has just resurfaced since I met you. I hadn’t seen Lucien since I hunted him, long ago.”

  “Why did you hunt him?’ I asked, studying him again as he seemed to be a million miles away.

  “Oh, Bebe…that’s a story better left for another day. I have already told you enough for a novel’s worth. Just chew on all of it and write it down. Change the names, of course…”

  “Of course! You really don’t mind if I work it into a story?” I asked disbelievingly.


  “It was another lifetime ago. No one would believe it, anyway.” He paused, and then smiled his handsome, all-knowing Aldon smile. “C. Collins Gastaneau, Supernatural Author.”

  “Hmm. It does have a certain ring to it, doesn’t it?”

  After he left me to check on Beau and fix us some lunch, I pulled my laptop out and checked for messages. Nothing from Banton.

  I settled down and then lost myself in journaling everything Everett had revealed. I was engrossed in the story for at least two hours before I drifted off, the computer still perched on the baby-bundle.

  Chapter Four

  The middle of June marked seven months of pregnancy and over a month since I’d seen Banton. Sensing my frustration, Everett and John made it a point to carry me anywhere in the house they thought might lift my spirits and break up the boredom. My favorite place to be was on the front porch in the early morning, while the dew still kissed the kudzu and the oppressive heat remained at bay until at least eleven o’clock. John would carry me down the stairs and place me on the front porch swing, where I spent the morning watching Constance teach Ava Grace the finer points of hopscotch and stair-hop.

  This morning my trip down brightened my day tremendously. Smiling, I pushed the porch swing off with my foot, the motion soothing my jangled nerves. It had been a week since we’d heard anything from Banton and Ty. Constance sat beside me, sharing my mood.

  I thought of Banton and something he said in one of our last conversations. Baby, I miss you too. The one thought that makes me smile, that keeps me going, is thinking about you…holding your tummy, rocking my babies on our front porch swing…waiting for me to come home. I love that picture…the one I have in my head.

  I smiled even bigger. I hoped I would have warning as to when he would come home. I planned to wait for him right in this spot, to give him the picture in his head.

  Ava Grace giggled as she ran up and down the stairs to our front porch, singing the little ditty Constance and I had taught her the morning before. I was so glad she and Claudia had come to stay with us; she made the house so much happier and warmer with Banton gone. Ava had blossomed the eight months since her mother had died, and the shyness had totally disappeared. She was a typical, precocious three-year-old, and I was overjoyed to know I’d helped in her transition.

  “An Andler, can I teach my babies to pway hopscotch wike Aba?” she called out. She jumped at the end of her little chalk boardwalk Constance had drawn for her.

  “They will be too little at first, Doodle-Bug, but when they get bigger.” Claudia answered her as she hopped back toward her. She giggled as Claudia swept her up into a big hug, covering her little face with kisses.

  Everything became silent…a static, strange sort of silence. The leaves on the trees stilled. A hush fell over everything. No car horns honked, no motors sounded. The birds ceased to chirp, and a shadow fell across the entire street, the lawn, and up to the front steps.

  Everything stalled into a kind of a slow motion, a time warp, of sorts, where voices slowed and sounded like they had been stretched. There was a ringing of the ears, like a different frequency you can’t quite pick up. Sounds began to intrude, coming from an alternate universe. Car doors slammed, and then I detected the sound of footsteps on the pavement. One pair, then two, then three. I raised my eyes, and my brain began to scream out, NO! NO! This is not happening.

  A dark navy-blue Suburban with a United States Navy logo was parked across the street. Three uniformed officers made their way up the sidewalk to where the three of us sat motionless. One of the men wore a chaplain’s collar.

  This was not happening. I’ll wake up soon, and I’ll laugh, and roll out of bed. Wake up, Chandler…Wake up…

  “Is one of you Mrs. Gastaneau?” The first officer asked us. I heard Claudia’s sharp intake of breath as she cuddled Ava closer to her chest.

  “Yes. I’m Chandler Gastaneau,” I replied in a whisper, barely audible. I grasped the chain on the porch swing so tightly my hand began to bleed. I stood, sensing I needed to brace myself.

  “Mrs. Gastaneau, we regret to have to inform you, your husband and two of his SEAL team are missing, presumed dead. We can’t give you any details yet, someone with family services will contact you tomorrow with more details. The Navy extends our deepest condolences, Ma’am, and we ask you call us, if there is anything we can do. I’m so sorry.”

  Missing, presumed dead. Presumed dead. Dead. The Chaplain came forward, and asked if we could go in and sit down. I realized I was shaking from head to toe, and I couldn’t put a name to the sensation. Oh, it was rage. That’s what it was. Find your voice, Andie. He expects a response.

  “You can leave a card with us, Chaplain. I’m sure I have questions, I just can’t think right now…” I whispered.

  “Which other two SEALs are missing?” Constance asked, gripping my hand.

  “We can’t say, Ma’am, until we know their next-of-kin have been notified.”

  “All of us who live in this house ARE their next of kin!” Constance exploded as I began to weep silently. “You can give me some names, or you can limp back to that car! Your choice…” she threatened, choking back sobs.

  The second officer cleared his throat, clearly shaken. “Lieutenants Ty Preston and Ben Oakley. I’m sorry, Miss. I’m truly sorry.”

  The Chaplain leaned in to give his card to Claudia, and then they turned to leave.

  I continued to sob silently, turning to go into the house. Claudia picked Ava up and followed as Constance pulled me into her arms. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I sank to the floor.

  “NOOOOO!” I screamed, breaking apart inside. “NOOOOOO! He can’t leave me like this, he promised me…” I looked up at both of them, their faces twisted with grief like my own. “He can’t leave me with these babies! He has to come back; I can’t live without him!” I continued to scream.

  Constance took charge and pulled me up to help me up the staircase. I heard the door slam behind us.

  “Bebe, what’s going on…what is all the commotion?” Everett hurried through the door, searching our faces as the horror dawned on him. “Oh, no…”

  “Banton, Ty, and Ben. They’re gone. Missing, presumed dead.” Claudia whispered. I continued to sob. Everett picked me up and turned to Claudia. “I’m taking her upstairs. Have you called your parents yet?” he asked her softly.

  “Oh, my God…” the realization of the conversation she’d have to have dawned on her. Everett turned then and hurried up the staircase with me.

  He placed me on the bed and then went into the bathroom. I curled up into a tight ball, trying to hold myself together. My mind went numb. I had a déjà-vu kind of feeling, like when my parents had died. My mind began to separate from my heart, a strange, funny sensation, like a coping mechanism. I remembered the sensation…like I couldn’t find my feelings.

  Everett came back to the side of the bed with a wet washrag. He sat down on the edge of the bed and began to bathe my face.

  “Bebe, what do you know? What did they say?”

  I lay silently. I couldn’t find my voice, couldn’t feel anything. I just lay there like stone. Everett rose and met Constance at the doorway.

  “I called mom and dad. They’re on their way. Everett, you’d better call John. I don’t know if he knows.”

  “All right. You stay in here with her,” Everett instructed.

  I could hear Everett outside in the hallway as John picked up on the other end.

  “John, I…I’m not sure how to say this. I have some bad news…” He began. “It’s about Banton…yes, you’ve heard the report. No, I haven’t been watching the news…No, it’s Banton, Ty and Ben. They’re missing, presumed dead. The Navy just showed up here, and informed Chandler and Constance… Yes, please. I think she needs you now. They both do,” Everett spoke quietly into the phone as he pushed the door open, glancing in at us. Constance lay on the bed beside me holding one of my hands, sobbing and stroking my hair back from my face.
I lay like stone, feeling nothing.

  Everett flipped his phone shut, and then walked back into the room. I could hear Claudia sobbing downstairs, trying to break the news to their parents. Ava Grace began to wail, trying to get Claudia’s attention. Everett hurried out of the room, apparently moved to help Claudia with Ava.

  Constance rose and walked silently over to the television on the wall, flipping it on as she turned to me.

  “There’s something on TV,” she began. “Do you want to see?”

  I continued to lie like stone, feeling nothing.

  The news reports were just beginning to come in, a Navy gunship, blown up by short range missile fire. What was left of the ship was featured on every news station, CNN, FOX, CNBC, and Headline News…Every station the same story. Casualty reports are yet to come in…came under attack without warning…missiles fired from the coastline…some Navy SEALS missing, presumed dead. The names were being held pending notification of the next of kin. Constance flipped through the channels, scanning the news stories.

  “They could be wrong,” she said. “They said missing, presumed dead. They don’t know for sure,” she sobbed as she continued to flip, her eyes glued to every image of every angle of the burning debris.

  I continued to lie like stone. I felt nothing.

  “Bebe, John is here, he wants to see you,” Everett began. John pushed through the door behind him, and hurried over to the bed. He pulled me up into his arms like a rag doll, holding me closely.

  “Andie-girl, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe it…I’m here. I’m so sorry,” he repeated, over and over again, his voice racked with sobs. He kissed the top of my head as he held me close to his body. “Chandler, talk to me,” he pulled me back to see my face. I was terrified to look up into his eyes. John’s eyes would make it all real.

  “Chandler!” John shook me slightly. I slowly raised my eyes, and met his tortured gaze.

  “He’s gone,” was all I could say. The tears began to pour, then. My chest ached, my insides ached. There was a hole that opened wide, nothing in the world, no amount of time, not even eternity could heal. I was gone, too, gone with him.