Ignoring her mother, Margo hooked a left and hurried to her room. She was no longer a child, and she wasn’t about to be told what to do, or where to be. Unfortunately, when she entered, there was another obstacle between her and her soft, warm bed. It was Enola, sitting in the middle of her canopy bed with her legs crossed.
“Rough night?”
“Ugh!” Margo grunted out of frustration. “Get out, Nola. I’m sleepy.”
“No can do, Cousin. I need you.”
Margo rolled her eyes and walked into her private bath. She looked in the mirror and cringed. Her appearance was frightful. Her usually amber eyes were bloodshot red. Her golden African locks had fallen from the bun she’d placed them in the night before. She swiped the dark eyeliner that had run down her cheeks, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Raccoon eyes for real,” she mumbled to the ugly version of herself in the mirror.
“Margo,” Enola called out from the bedroom.
“What? You need me for what? What could I possibly contribute to this freakshow?”
Enola, all fresh faced and pretty, suddenly appeared behind her in the mirror. Her curly, auburn mane framed her freshly beat face. She was wearing a yellow wrap dress that complemented her copper complexion. Margo rolled her eyes at her energetic cousin. Clearly, she was sleeping good at night. Must’ve been that good wolf dick.
“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, you’re one of the most powerful freaks in this circus. Margo, you have the power to command anyone with balls. I’m new to all this shit, and that gift of yours could really come in handy. Without Gran, we’re vulnerable. This family needs you. I need you.”
Margo opened the medicine cabinet and retrieved her electric toothbrush. She rinsed it, slapped some toothpaste on it, and shoved it in her mouth. Without acknowledging her cousin, she pushed the power button, allowing the bristles to scrub the Vodka from her teeth and gums.
“MARGO!”
“WHAT?”
“Twenty minutes?”
“Fine! Get out of my room,” Margo relented.
Enola was right. With the loss of their gran, they were vulnerable to attack. There were still witches and vampires that considered them prey. Most assumed that their power died with her. No one, except for the wolf shifters, was aware of the powerful heir that rose in her wake. All of the vampires and warlocks involved in the surprise attack on their plantation perished in the flames of the phoenix.
As if not wanting to push it, Enola disappeared from view. When Margo heard the click of her bedroom door closing, she peeled the day-old clothes from her body and turned on the shower. She left the bathroom and entered her walk-in, in search of something easy and wrinkle free. A black, fitted romper is what she decided on. She paired it with white stilettos with black polka dots. Without delicacy, she yanked it from the rack, grabbed the shoes from the shelf, and reentered her bedroom. She tossed the shoes on the floor and the outfit on the bed. She peered at the ensemble through the blurry vision of sleepy eyes. The last time she wore the romper, it revealed a bit of cleavage. It wasn’t as business-like as her mother’s outfit, or as modest as Enola’s, but it would have to do. And if it wasn’t good enough for her family, they were more than welcome to leave her at home.
****
Thirty minutes later, Margo was sitting next to her mother in the back of a Cadillac Escalade driven by Gideon. Enola was sitting in the passenger seat next to him. They all seemed a bit annoyed by her tardiness, but she was unconcerned. Hell, they knew that she’d been out all night. Yeah, they were magical, but nobody said a chant, or snapped a finger to help her get dressed faster.
The ride to the quarter was silent. It wasn’t long until they were pulling up in front of La Maison d ‘Auriette, the historical French Quarter hotel owned by Gideon and his twin brother, Gabriel.
Gabriel was waiting out front, standing next to Alvin Boone, a Bayou born, British raised, high-ranking member of the Louisiana pack. His appearance was arresting—a giant of a man with vivid, green eyes that were a striking contrast to his almost coal complexion. And as if being ridiculously attractive wasn’t enough, he had the nerve to have a panty-dropping English accent.
Margo could’ve stared at the sexy Brit all day, but the hot Louisiana sun was burning her tired eyes. She fished her sunglasses out of her purse and shoved them on her face. Gideon climbed out of the front seat as Gabriel opened the passenger doors.
“Good morning, ladies,” he greeted.
“Morning, Grandpa,” Margo grumbled as she slid out of the back seat.
Gabriel chuckled softly while helping her mom out of the SUV. Once the women were out of the vehicle, the men huddled up near the entrance. Margo was joining Enola on the sidewalk just as a petite blonde ran up.
“Enola Roux!” she screeched, pulling her in for a hug.
Judging by Enola expression, she had no clue who the woman was. She gave her a cheap pat before stepping out of her embrace. With a wrinkled brow, she looked past the stranger to Margo, but Margo simply shrugged. She had never seen the woman a day in her life. As if noticing Enola’s confusion, the blonde frowned and tilted her head.
“Enola, it’s me, Karen…. Karen Harper. We worked together in Chicago.”
Enola took a minute to study her face, but it was clear that she still didn’t recognize her.
“I’m sorry, umm… Karen?”
“Harper. Karen Harper,” she offered. “You don’t remember me?”
She seemed disappointed.
“I sorry, Karen. It’s been a while since I –”
“It’s okay,” the woman interrupted. “I guess I’m just easily forgettable.”
Margo narrowed her eyes at the woman. Was she really running that guilt trip on her cousin?
“Now, I’m sure that’s not true,” Enola refuted sympathetically.
“It’s cool. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
Enola frowned as if she was actually fazed by the blanket of guilt the woman was laying on her. But Margo wasn’t moved. To her, she came off as fake and needy. Who acts like that because someone doesn’t remember them? A normal person would shrug it off and keep it moving.
Margo moved closer, fully prepared to put the needy blonde in check, but her mother beat her to it. She pushed past Margo and shoved the woman. The stranger stumbled backward but didn’t fall. Her mom turned to Enola.
“This woman means you no good,” she warned. Then she returned her attention to the mysterious woman. “Bitch, you can’t fool me. I can see right into your black heart,” she sneered. “Who are you?”
Everyone present was staring at the woman, waiting for her to respond. The blonde turned anxious and took a few steps back.
“I- I’m sorry to have bothered you. I-I,” she stammered before running away.
They stared at the woman’s back until she disappeared in a crowd of tourists.
“What the hell was that?” Margo blurted.
Unfortunately, she didn’t get an answer because, “You’re late,” came from a voice behind them.
Margo cringed and slowly turned toward the raspy female voice. She grumbled under her breath at the sight of Madame Belfour, one of the oldest priestesses in Louisiana. She was very skilled at casting and removing spells, and very well-respected in their community. She was also a busybody pain in the ass.
“You have just barely taken the position as sovereign. This reflects badly upon us all.”
Enola sighed. “Yes, ma’am. You’re right. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,”
The fact that Enola apologized without throwing her under the bus only agitated Margo. Besides, who the hell was Madame Belfour to chastise their leader? Margo wanted nothing more than to tell the lady to shut the fuck up. However, she wasn’t raised to be disrespectful to her elders, so she just rolled her eyes behind her dark shades and kept her mouth shut.
“You’re not from here. Maybe you’re unworthy of your new role,” the old lady goaded with a nasty smirk.
“Mad
ame Belfour, you are mistaken. I am from here,” Enola corrected.
“But you left. Maybe you should return to the big city.”
“Whoa! Hold on,” Margo interjected. “Who the f–”
“Margo!” her mother scolded.
Even though she was still fairly young, her mom was old school, southern to the core. No matter how disrespectful the elder, she held her tongue no matter what. But Margo wasn’t so old school. She was itching to curse the old lady out.
“Learn your place, Madame,” Gideon cautioned. “Take care how you speak to my wife… your leader.”
Since Gideon was well over a hundred years old, disrespecting an elder clearly wasn’t a concern of his.
“Heel, mutt,” the old lady hissed in tone laced with contempt.
She was completely out of line, and Margo was ready to point it out. But, before anyone in the vicinity could respond to her nasty comment, Enola was on the woman. Her fingers glowed amber as she wrapped them around the woman’s throat and pushed her back to the SUV. Margo actually felt sorry for the priestess as Enola’s hot fingers burned her flesh.
“Look here, lady. Don’t confuse the respect that I have for my elders for weakness.” The tenor of her tone was low and menacing. “You ever talk to my man like that again, you and me gonna have problems.”
Madame Belfour’s eyes grew wide as she struggled to breathe. She attempted to pry Enola’s fingers from her flesh, but the heat radiating from her hand wouldn’t allow it. When her eyes fluttered in Margo’s direction, she could see the woman’s desperation. After all, she had to be desperate to look to her for help.
Margo sighed and rolled her eyes for what had to be the hundredth time that day. And it was only 9:15 in the morning. She cautiously placed her hand on Enola’s shoulder, hoping she didn’t burn her fingers. Thankfully, the surge of heat was contained in her cousin’s hand. Margo suddenly found herself proud. In a short amount of time, Enola had become exceptional at controlling her gifts. But at the moment, she didn’t appear to exercising any control whatsoever.
“Do you understand me?” Enola sneered.
What Margo saw in her cousin’s eyes was pure rage. She actually began to worry for the woman.
“Cousin, how is she supposed to agree if you fry her vocal cords?”
With her hand still on Enola’s shoulder, Margo eased next to Madame Belfour. When she looked into Enola’s eyes, her irises were small balls of flames. Standing close by, her empath mother was clutching her head with tightly closed lids.
“Enola, darling,” Gideon whispered. “Sweetheart, you have to let her go.”
Gideon pretending to give a fuck wasn’t convincing, and Enola wasn’t listening anyway. She seemed entranced. Not wanting to startle, Margo was careful how she touched her. The last thing anyone needed was for her to turn into the big angry bird of fire in the middle of the French Quarter, but Margo had no other choice but to intervene. She was nearly killing one of their elders. That wouldn’t go over to well in their community.
“NOLA!” Margo shouted, pressing her fingers into her shoulder. “Let that lady go!”
When Enola didn’t budge, she bypassed Gideon and Gabriel. For some reason, her so-called gift didn’t work on her ancestors, so she ran over to Alvin Boone. She looked him in the eye and whispered, “Grab her. Now.”
Without hesitation, the large man walked over to Enola, wrapped his arm around her waist, and pulled her off the priestess. Gabriel caught the woman before she hit the concrete and gently sat her on the curb. Margo frantically checked, praying that her cousin hadn’t seared the woman’s throat. She was choking and crying uncontrollably, but thankfully, she seemed okay.
“BOONE!” Gideon roared at the sight of his Alvin’s arm wrapped around Enola’s waist.
With rage in his eyes, he growled, bared his canines, and leapt toward the other wolf. Luckily, Gabriel was able to get to his brother and restrain him before he was able to tear into their friend’s throat. The animal in her cousin’s husband was scratching at the surface, clawing to get out.
Alvin, suddenly blink away his confusion. He must’ve realized that he was in imminent danger, because he released Enola as if she was a carrier of the Bubonic Plague.
“I… I,” he stuttered.
He seemed so disoriented, and Margo felt bad. But she wasn’t strong enough to get Enola off of the woman, and no one else was doing anything. So, it was left to her to do something. It was for the best, even if it did offend the wolf in Gideon.
“Animals,” she scoffed before returning her attention to the person that was actually wounded.
“Madame Belfour?” she whispered. “Are you okay?”
She blinked up at her with fear in her eyes. She was sweating and her breathing was labored.
Sh-she’s insane,” she gasped breathlessly.
At least her vocal chords were still working.
Since things seemed to calm a bit, Margo’s mom pulled herself together and hurried over to help her get Madame Belfour to her feet.
“Where did that come from?” Ruby whispered to Margo.
“I told you!” the elder exclaimed. “She’s insane!”
Margo looked over at Enola. She was glaring at the three of them as Gideon pulled her into his arms. Her eyes had returned to their natural color, but she appeared extremely disoriented. Her expression was remorseful.
She stepped out of Gideon’s grasp and walked over to them. “Madame, I am so sorry,” she apologized in a whisper.
She reached out, but Madame Belfour recoiled with fear in her eyes.
“Stay away from me,” she hissed.
“Nola, I didn’t sense any anger coming from you. Where did that come from?” Ruby asked.
Enola placed her hand on her imaginary pearls and shook her head. “I don’t know. I swear. I have no idea. It’s like I blacked out. I couldn’t control myself.”
Gideon turned her around and placed her face in his large hands. “Sweetheart, what do mean, you couldn’t control yourself?”
“I mean… I knew what I was doing, but I couldn’t stop.”
Madame Belfour broke free and moved closer to Enola. She pulled her away from Gideon and turned her by the shoulders. She looked her in the eye and asked, “What do you remember?”
There was an urgency in her raspy voice. Enola closed her eyes as if trying remember. Seconds later, her eyes flew open.
“There was chanting,” she blurted.
“Chanting?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t understand the language.”
“Do you remember the chant?” Madame Belfour asked.
Enola shook her head. “Um-mm. But when it started, it seemed far away, like it was muffled. Then, it got louder.”
Margo looked on with shock as Madame Belfour began to rub Enola’s body, as if patting her down. When she got to the pocket of her dress, she reached inside and pulled something out. Margo moved closer to see what it was. The elder held up a something wrapped in a mesh cloth with a thin string tied around it. Margo couldn’t see what was inside. From the way Enola reacted to the find, she had no idea what it was, or where it came from.
“A hex bag?” Ruby marveled.
“A hex bag?” Enola questioned.
“Witches!” Madame Belfour spat. Her face twisted with disgust. She dug into her purse and pulled out a lighter. She lit the bag on fire and tossed it to the ground.
“The blonde chick,” Margo realized out loud.
Enola sighed and looked over at Gideon. She was probably wishing that she could return to the big city.
“We’re already late. We have to go in,” Enola stressed. “Madame, can you come by the house after the meeting?”
“Yes. I’ll be by.”
Enola smiled. “Thank you. And… I am very sorry.”
“I know,” the older woman said, gesturing to the hotel entrance. “Shall we?”
Gideon placed his hand on Enola’s back and led the way. Margo yawned and followed eve
ryone inside.
Damn, she was tired.
When they entered the elegant lobby, they were met by a woman that Gideon referred to as Glenda. She led them through the lobby and down a long hall to a meeting room. As soon as they crossed the threshold, the room became so silent that one could hear a rabbit pissing on cotton. The men rose to their feet as they walked aside the long conference table. Supposedly, the room was filled with supernatural beings from all over Louisiana and some bordering states. Gideon, Gabriel, and Alvin escorted them to their seats before claiming their own. Gideon took his seat at the head of the table, with Gabriel and Alvin flanking him on both sides. Each species sat with their own kind. There were representatives from every faction. And to Margo’s surprise, there were even two priests, present as mediators and representatives of The Catholic Church.
Margo looked around the table shared with wolves, witches, vampires, and clergymen. The wolves she knew, but between the vampires and the witches, she couldn’t tell who was who. She placed her handbag on the table next to the notepad that had been placed in front of her. She was still scanning the room discretely behind her sunglasses when her eyes landed on a set of broad shoulders, attached to the big body sitting directly across from of her.
Margo slid the shades down her nose in order to get a better look. Whoever he was, he was beautiful. He had thick blond hair with a matching full beard. His eyes sparkled a sea-colored blue, and his lips were plump and inviting. She lowered her gaze to his prominent pecs and imagined him minus the expensive looking suit. When she allowed her eyes to return to his, his blue gaze was fixated on her.
Margo didn’t flinch when she realized he’d caught her checking him out.
They locked eyes. The intensity in his stare elicited a trembling breath. She was grateful that she was already sitting because the man was knee-buckling fine.
Who was he?
CHAPTER TWO
BISHOP
Bishop leaned closer to his attendant and ask, “What is the hold up?”
“We are waiting for the priestess, Maître,” Basile whispered. “And the wolves.”
Blood Ties (Creole Nights) Page 10
