There was no question about it. Margo had seen it firsthand. The witches, and their warlocks, senselessly murdered a sweet, innocent woman whose life had just begun. Beth didn’t deserve to die, and she certainly didn’t deserve to die the way she did. Just thinking of her, and what happened, was overwhelmingly sad.
“Where is everybody?” Margo asked.
It was unusually quiet in their house.
Gideon shrugged. “I have no idea.”
Margo wasn’t buying that. Gideon always knew where his twin was. He always knew where they all were.
“Um-mm,” she challenged with pursed lips.
Margo wasn’t sure, but she assumed her mother was in the workshop, trying to figure out a way to wake Enola. Benjamin was probably running up behind her. Apparently, he’d been the family’s voodoo assistant for quite some time. That was a story she needed to hear sometime soon. But Margo was wondering where everyone else was. Where were Gabriel and Boone? They’d been there so much as of late, she figured they’d moved in.
“It’s too quiet in here?”
Margo was restless. It had been two days since she was attacked, and she had only communicated with Bishop through text. But Margo was trying out a new emotion- empathy. She saw the way Beth’s death affected Bishop. He was heartbroken. He obviously cared deeply for her. Margo felt bad that she couldn’t make it better for him. So, she did the only thing she could. She gave him time.
The problem was Margo didn’t know what to do with her time. Her social life was nonexistent, and she couldn’t go back to work yet. Sitting still was harder for her than most.
Margo hopped up from the sofa.
“I’m going to see Nola,” she announced.
She jogged up the stairs and turned down the hall. When she reached Enola’s door, she didn’t even bother to knock. It wasn’t like she could answer. She twisted the knob and eased the door open. The room was dimly lit by the light in the bathroom. Margo walked over to the bed and looked down at her sleeping cousin, hoping her inability to wake was just a case of exhaustion.
Margo was concerned, but Gideon’s calm demeanor was comforting. He was obscenely overprotective of Enola, and if he wasn’t worried, maybe there was nothing to worry about.
“Nola,” she whispered.
She didn’t answer, but Margo really wasn’t expecting her to. She walked around to the other side of the bed and climbed in next to her. Enola hated for anyone to get in, or even sit on her bed with street clothes on. Maybe she would wake up just to scream at her to get out. She didn’t.
Margo snuggled close and threw her arm over her. It was the first time she’d been in Enola’s bed. It was like laying on a cloud. A yawn escaped, reminding her she hadn’t really slept in days. So, without a fight, Margo allowed her tired body to melt into Enola’s soft mattress.
“Margo, wake up!”
Someone was shaking her. Margo’s eyes flew open and focused on Gideon.
“They’re here!”
Margo blinked up at him, trying to figure out who “they” were.
“The witches!” Gideon snapped.
Margo sat up and looked over at Enola, who was still out cold. She jumped out of bed and ran to the window. There were no witches or warlocks in sight. She did, however, see Gabriel, who was still in human form. He was surrounded by their entire pack of wolves.
“You stay here and protect Nola,” Gideon instructed. “Your mother is on her way up too.”
Margo’s eyes widened.
“And how are we supposed to protect her? Am I supposed to tell the warlocks, one at a time, to leave her alone? What’s my mom gonna do? Feel them to death?”
Gideon stilled her with a glare.
“Don’t be an asshole! We’re gonna do everything we can to keep them from getting in the house. You need to do everything you can to protect my wife.”
Margo inhaled a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Panicking wouldn’t help.
“Hold on,” she told him before running out of the room. She ran to her grandmother’s room and opened the drawer to her nightstand. Margo’s powers might be one step above useless, but the .38 special she grabbed might do some damage.
Margo grabbed a box of bullets and ran back to Enola’s room.
“Okay, go ahead. We’re good,” she assured.
Gideon looked down at the revolver, then up at her.
“You know how to use that?”
“I sure do.”
Margo rolled her eyes when her revelation was treated with skepticism.
“Get outta here before I show yo ass just how much I know how to use this.”
Gideon glanced over at Enola one last time before leaving the room. Margo heard his heavy foots steps as he hurried down the stairs. She ran over to the window just as Gabriel was shifting. Margo winced. She’d witnessed them shifting in the past, and the sound of their skeletal transformation was jarring.
The sight of a wolf shifting was no longer as shocking as the first time she saw it. However, what shocked her was Benjamin standing on the frontline with them. What was he supposed to do against witches?
“Here!” her mother said as she rushed into the bedroom.
She handed her a necklace and rushed over to place one on Enola.
“What is this?” Margo asked.
“Gris-gris pouch. Put it on. It’s for protection.”
Margo tied the necklace around her neck. A loud chorus of growls pulled her attention back to the window. The witches finally came into view. They were marching hand in hand toward their house. Margo raised the window and, as suspected, they were reciting some sort of chant.
The wolves took off, ready to attack. But warlocks were flanking them on both sides. They raised guns and fired on the wolves. Margo heaved a terrified breath. The wolves were fast, but they weren’t faster than bullets. She pointed her gun out the window, ready to pick a sorcerer off one by one. But as luck would have it, she didn’t have to.
Benjamin said some words, raised his hands, and pushed his palms toward their enemies. Margo gasped when witches and warlocks started dropping like they had been shot.
“What in the hell!” Margo cursed through a breath.
She whipped around and glared at her mother.
“Um... Benjamin just shot people with his hands. You wanna explain that?”
Her mother ran over to the window and peered down at the battle.
“Mamma!” Margo persisted.
“It’s Santeria!” her mother blurted.
“What? What the hell is that?”
Margo frowned when her mother looked at her like she was stupid.
“He’s Cuban. It’s a- Ugh... I’ll explain later!”
She looked at her mom through narrowed eyes.
“I see you got a lotta secrets.”
Margo rolled her eyes and turned back to the window. Benjamin had taken quite a few down, but not enough. They were still outnumbered. And to make things worse, the witches’ chanting started affecting the wolves. They were falling to the ground, whimpering and whining, as if they were in pain.
Margo slumped over the windowsill. They didn’t stand a chance. The witches were powerful, the rest of their tribe was nowhere to be found, and Enola, the strongest of them all, was comatose. All seemed lost until three vampires came out of nowhere. They ripped through the witches’ front line, giving the wolves a chance to recover.
The battle went on. There was growling, clawing, biting, shooting, and spells. The warlocks took out a few of Gideon’s wolves with modern weaponry, while the witches hit them with incantations. They were losing until...
“Mamma, look!” Margo was shouting, even though her mother was right next to her.
Bishop appeared with an army of vampires. They were so fast that they were tearing through the witches and warlocks before they could spout out a complete spell. Margo was suddenly hoping they might actually survive the night, but Vivienne stepped into the light and stomped all over her optimism.
“Come on, cuz, you gotta get up. Please, Nola, get up!” she pleaded.
Nothing. Enola didn’t even stir.
“Shit!” Margo blustered.
“Margo?”
Her mother called. Margo looked up at her through eyes that dared her to scold her for cursing.
“Come here,” her mother instructed with urgency.
Margo hurried over.
“Hold my hands. Let’s put a protection spell on the house.”
Margo’s jaw dropped.
“Why are we just now doing that?”
Her mother snatched her hands.
“We’re not just now doing it. They shouldn’t have been able to cross the property line.”
Margo shook her head and pulled her hands away.
“Then, why are we doing it again? It don’t work.”
Margo turned and looked out the window, just in time to see a metal spear pierce Bishop’s chest. Margo’s heart nearly stopped. Before she knew it, she had snatched the gun from the windowsill and ran out of the room.
“Marguerite!” She heard her mother scream. And when Margo took the stairs and burst through the front door, she knew her mother was on her heels. She pointed the gun and fired at every witch and warlock that stood in her way of Bishop. But before she could make it to him, a debilitating pain in her head dropped her to her knees. She fell to the ground, screaming and reaching for her vampire lover. The look in his black eyes was murderous. He wrapped his fingers around the metal and snarled as he pulled it out of his chest.
Margo closed her eyes and covered her head. The pain was so unbearable she was sure it would kill her. It only increased when she heard her mother’s screams. Margo wanted to go to her, but couldn’t move.
She recognized Bishop’s scent when she was lifted from the ground.
“No! Get my mother!” Margo urged.
“I will,” Bishop assured, cradling her against his body.
Margo could feel his body jerking as he walked. She forced her eyes open to look around.
“Close your eyes,” he ordered, his body jerking again.
“Oh, my God,” Margo gasped.
They were shooting him in the back as he carried her across the lawn. Margo panicked, trying to wriggle out of his arms.
“My mother!” she cried. “Put me down! Go get my mother!”
Bishop boosted her up and tightened his hold.
“Basile has your mother. So, please, be still.”
Margo sighed with relief as they retreated from the lost battle. Unfortunately, she found out that there was no retreat. Vivienne dropped a bomb in her head that affected her entire body. She went stiff and her body convulsed. It felt like she was being electrocuted. The pain was so intense she couldn’t scream.
Vivienne’s power was unmatched. Margo was defeated. She couldn’t take it anymore. She wished for death. Praying to God for it to end in her mind. Since she couldn’t speak, Margo even called out for her gran. She wanted her to come down and take her to wherever she was. She the suffering to end.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
BISHOP
Bishop felt the pain, luckily a bullet couldn’t kill him. His biggest concern was the woman in his arms. Margo was having some kind of seizure. Her limbs stiffened and her eyes rolled in the back of her head. The voodoo-witch was killing her.
Bishop picked up speed, but there was no place safe from Enola’s twin. He hoped that if he got Marguerite and her mother far enough away, Vivienne’s magic would weaken. Unfortunately, a bullet to the back of his head made him drop to one knee.
Had he fed; Bishop would’ve recovered faster. But he hadn’t seen Marguerite for days, and he had been holding out until he saw her. He fell over her, covering her with his body, immediately regretting his decision to not feed from a bag. Bishop wanted nothing more than to snatch the evil twin’s heart out and eat it.
Bishop looked around at the massacre and prepared to regroup. He mustered enough energy to stand, but a blast knocked him on his back. It went eerily silent. Bishop, along with everyone else, looked around for the source of the explosion.
With Gideon’s wolf by her side, Enola emerged from the smoke, a glowing ember. She strode across the lawn with purpose. Her eyes burned like coal in a fire, and strands of her hair were flickering flames. She held her arms out and recited a short chant that severed Vivienne’s hold over her family.
Margo sighed with relief and sank unto the damp grass. Bishop lifted her head and held her protectively against his chest. Despite the hole in his head, he took a breath and stood with her in his arms. He planned to carry her off the battlefield.
Before he could take a step, Enola waved one hand across the lawn and scorched every witch and warlock insight. Bishop was awestruck by the power Enola was wielding. She was a force. If he had learned anything from Gerard’s mistakes, the first lesson would be, it was safer to have Enola Roux as an ally, instead of an enemy.
Vivienne, Enola’s twin was their only remaining enemy. Since they were magically linked, Bishop wondered what plans they had in store for her.
Enola advanced toward the voodoo-witch, whispering words in a language unfamiliar to him. Vivienne screamed, clutching her ears. Once she was within arms-length of her sister, Enola stopped chanting and punched her in the face. When Vivienne fell to the ground, Enola waved her hand over her twin and resumed the chant. When she was done, Vivienne lay limp on the cold, wet grass.
Enola left her there and looked around for her family. She ran over to Ruby, just as she was being passed from Basile to their house servant. Bishop believed his name was Benjamin.
“Put me down,” Marguerite requested with a wiggle.
Bishop lowered her to her feet and held her shoulders to make sure she was steady.
“Are you alright?” he asked while inspecting her body for injuries.
Marguerite threw her arms around his neck, giving him a hug that almost seemed desperate. She released him and looked into his eyes.
“Are you okay? You got shot!”
Bishop smiled. Her concern was precious.
“Bullets can’t kill me, Marguerite,” he chuckled.
She was not amused. Her expression was serious.
“Thank you,” she breathed. “Thank you, so much.”
Bishop frowned. He didn’t like her thanking him. It was his job to keep her safe. He had already failed at it once, and he had no intention of failing her again.
“Are you guys okay?” They turned to face Enola. She was studying them with a worried look on her face.
Marguerite folded her arms defiantly.
“Seriously?” she scoffed. “You really gonna sleep through this whole ass-whooping we just took, then come outside, wave ya hand, and kill everybody? Why couldn’t you do this shit before me and my mamma lost 2 billion brain cells?”
Enola’s mouth flew open, but Marguerite didn’t give her a chance to rebut before walking away. She stomped and fussed all the way to the house.
Enola glared angrily at Bishop, leaving him to wonder what he did.
“You better get ya woman! I’mma blow her ass up! I’m telling you... you had better get her,” Enola warned with a pointed finger before walking toward the house.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
MARGO
Margo fluttered around her kitchen like a nervous, first-year rookie, not the renowned chef that she was. She was coming out of the closet (so to speak) with her family, and everything, right down to the water, had to be perfect.
For their starters, she’d prepared a spinach and Maitake mushroom salad with red onions, strawberries, dressed with a mild ginger glaze, shrimp ceviche with mango, pineapple, and avocado, and seared Ahi tuna with a Cajun teriyaki glace, sprinkled with sesame seeds, and a seared Foie Gras with a green onion chutney.
For dinner, Margo prepared Le Gigpt D’Agneau Pascal, the French version of a roasted leg of lamb that would kick off
a fight for the last piece. Along with that, she made a classic Lobster Thermidor. And for the beef lovers, Margo opted for a British favorite, Beef Wellington.
Margo had even taken the reins from Aubrey. For dessert, she went to South Africa, creating a sweet, creamy Melktert with a light sprinkle of cinnamon.
Margo had been prepping for days, and now her work was done. She finally exhaled as she stood back and watched her staff plate. Plating was an integral part of the dining experience.
“Bonsoir, ma chéri.”
Bishop’s masculine voice was like a warm blanket. He was so close. How could someone so big move as quietly as he did? Margo could feel his breath against her ear. It was like an erotic current flowing throughout her body.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
Margo turned around and gave him a quick peck. She was grinning from ear to ear.
“Well, I think. I’m so excited!”
When Bishop smiled, there was a sparkle in his eyes. His thick, blonde hair was absent the man-bun. Margo took a step back and admired the total package in front of her. Bishop in jeans was sexy, but Bishop in a suit was nothing short of jaw-dropping. He had to have walked out of his door, aiming to turn heads.
“That’s how you feel? Coming out looking all sexy?” Margo teased.
“Good Lord, he is,” she heard Aubrey whisper behind her.
“You better turn around and bake something, lady,” Margo advised, giving her a look that needed no explanation. “I ain’t no killer, but don’t push me.”
Audrey and the rest of her staff laughed at the light jesting. But Bishop wasn’t laughing at all. He glared at her with a puzzled look on his face. Margo realized he wasn’t familiar with Tupac. He probably thought she’d just threatened Aubrey’s life.
“That was lyrics from a rap song,” she explained through laughter.
Bishop chuckled and shook his head.
“Marguerite, I’m from France, not Mars. I know of Tupac.”
Margo raised a brow. “Oh... okay, then,” she replied with a giggle.
Bishop rubbed her upper arm.
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