The music swelled to full, hypnotic volume. “Just a Closer Walk with Thee” beat its irresistible patterns around the club. On the stage, the musicians played as if they’d entered a trance and they were many parts that made up one whole.
Ben saw his brothers, Liam and Ethan, walk into the club. They paused, looking his way, but instantly picked up that he didn’t want to be disturbed. Carrying on, they went directly to Poppy, who spoke and gestured expansively. All three arranged themselves in a row, elbows on the bar behind them, where they could watch Willow, Sykes and Ben easily.
“It’s a zoo here,” Ben said. “Next there will be clowns.”
“There already are,” Sykes told him. “Nasty ones. We’re just not seeing them yet, or not clearly.”
“We need to talk bats,” Ben said, afraid Sykes would say too much for Willow to cope with. So far she was holding up well enough.
“Rock U. mentioned bats,” she said, eyes widening. “I thought he was joking.”
“Bats have been seen in daylight in the Quarter,” Ben told her. “Rock U.?”
“Tattoo parlor guy,” she told him. “He said he heard about it on the cruiser radio parked outside our building.”
“Did he say anything else?”
“Just that people had been scared by them. Zinnia—my office manager—she said if bats come out in daylight they could be rabid.”
“Wish that was all,” Sykes muttered. “Some details have leaked out about the condition of the two corpses in the morgue. Blades is ready to take the mouthy culprit apart if he can find him—or her. Now bats have been seen, and the public theory is that they are rabid and that’s what’s killing people.”
“Might be a good thing if they do think that,” Ben said. “At least it’ll keep them from thinking other things.”
He studied Willow, who had fallen silent again. Not so long ago he had seen a shaded being fly from behind her and rise in the air. He had almost gotten close enough to touch the thing—or had he? Could it have been a bat, or what passed as a bat for the locals?
Willow got up. She looked from Sykes to Ben and said, “I need to be alone. There’s something I must do.”
Ben bit back a protest. She couldn’t be left alone, but it looked as if they would have to make her think she had been. With his mind, he told Sykes what he intended to do.
“Are you sure she won’t pick up on you?” Sykes said.
Ben gave a short laugh. “If I can’t manage this, we’re in big trouble. Talk to Marley, will you? And Pascal, of course. And Gray. If necessary I’ll pull in Liam and Ethan—or even Poppy.”
“Not unless we have to,” Sykes said. “We have to be able to control this.”
Their exchange took only an instant, and Willow turned away, heading for the door. She shot them a warning glance over her shoulder.
Chapter 16
Cabs weren’t her thing, but Willow took one back to Royal Street. First, she wanted to get there fast. Second, when Ben and Sykes followed her out of Fortunes, she wanted to be out of sight already.
“Now you know you gotta keep to the center of things?” the cab driver said, starting the same old lecture she’d heard before. “Don’t be wandering off the beaten track on your own. Don’t matter what time of day it is. Be safe. And if you need a cab—” he shoved a card over his shoulder “—call me.”
Holding Mario, she thanked the driver when he stopped a few yards short of Millet’s and paid him too much. He tried to give her change but she pressed it back at him.
He took a good look at her then and a pleased smile creased his deeply tanned face. “Guess you don’t need my help,” he said. “You’re one of them.”
With that, he drove off, and she heard him turn up his radio. Swamp pop pelted the damp and ever-hotter air. Bobi Jackson’s “Alligator Woman” started her shoulders rolling.
One of them. The cabby had called her that.
The turmoil Willow felt had not lessened, but she knew what she wanted to do about it. She had a mission, and she had to take control—for the sake of others. Or she would try, just in case the thoughts she had weren’t imaginary.
They probably were imaginary, which would be good, because then she could put her powers behind her again and go back to being normal.
The sidewalk was thick with the wanderers and the striders. A kid scooted up beside her and cracked his skateboard onto one end, startling Willow. He grinned at her, deftly used a sneaker toe to flip the board into the air and caught it.
All she wanted was to be normal, just plain old normal. Why was that too much to ask?
As quietly as she could, she opened the ornate iron gates to the alley leading to the back of the Court of Angels.
She hugged the wall of the shop and crept forward, trying not to make the gravel crunch under her feet. If Pascal heard her, or any other family member, she would have to face an inquisition. Mario struggled and she put him down. He sat at once and stared up at her.
What would she do if someone came to claim him? The way he’d shown up was strange, but he was part of her life already. She tried to take comfort in not having heard or read a thing about someone looking for a little red dog.
She darted across the alley, skirted the big storeroom where she kept her scooter and the trailer and entered the courtyard, grateful for the cover of palms, lush ferns, and bamboo that exploded from every area. White impatiens, tall but dense rather than leggy, bobbled softly among the dark green fronds. Water trickled like liquid silver from the fountain angel’s shell, and she smelled the vanilla scent of creamy clematis climbing railings and scaling over windows.
Deception.
This was a stage set to give a false impression. Why she had never thought of the place that way before, she didn’t know. Peace was a facade, and behind that facade, intrigue seethed on every side. And this was exactly where she was supposed to be at this moment.
She had not told Ben or Sykes, but she thought the picture she had been shown of the woman resembled some of the angels in the courtyard.
Willow looked at the ground, listened and opened herself to feel anything that wanted to approach.
Mario trotted forward and disappeared into a bed where lilies unfurled their pointed blooms.
Willow inclined her head to see where Mario had gone—and the faintest shade of pink washed slowly down to color the scene in front of her. Her stomach turned. Pink blended to mauve and she closed her eyes.
She couldn’t move, yet movement was all around her.
A strong current, a blast like high wind, buffeted her this way and that. If her feet weren’t rooted to the ground, she would fall. She tried to open her eyes, but couldn’t.
“Can you hear me?” A man’s voice sounded so familiar that she reached out. “You over there. Can you hear me?”
Was he talking to her?
“Are you embarrassed because you’re naked?” the voice asked. “I won’t look, but you’ve got to say somethin’ to me, girl. Let me know you’re alive—if you are alive. We don’t know how long we’ve got before someone comes back. We gotta get out of here first.”
Willow was too hot. The wind settled to a whirling stream. Behind her eyelids she saw something small, a writhing thing she couldn’t make out. But she was sure the voice came from this.
Pale, partly buried in bright yellow granules and walled off by glass, when the creature stopped twisting for an instant it became invisible, blended with the yellow-white of its surroundings.
Of course she knew the voice. “You’re Chris,” she said, amazed and not certain whether she spoke aloud. “Chris? Where are you? Who’s with you?” He had not been talking to her before, after all.
He didn’t answer. The tiny shape turned over and over, like a minuscule shelled shrimp.
“Girl,” Chris’s voice said again. “We gotta talk. We gotta help each other. I’m Chris. What’s your name?”
The next sound Willow heard was a muted crying, so soft she had to strain to h
ear it at all.
“Yeah,” the Chris voice said. “Good. You’re not dead—yet. I’d like to cry, too, but there’s got to be a way out of this. Hoo, mama, this is weird. Did you, er…did you meet someone interesting before you came here? You know, interesting in a sexy way?”
The female sound rose to a thin wail.
“Okay, okay, we won’t talk about it right now. But it was somethin’ wasn’t it? I couldn’t see her, but I could sure feel her. Geez, no one ever came on to me like that before. Were you blindfolded, too?”
“We can’t get out,” a female voice said. “We can’t climb the glass. We’d just slip back down.”
“Stay with me,” Chris said. “We’ll figure it out.”
“We’re going to die.” The other one sounded as if she had already given up. Then she said, almost inaudibly, “I’m Caroline. I don’t want to die.”
“No. We won’t. If we were going to die, we’d be dead already. We were captured for some reason. I just want us out of here before they get a chance to show us what they think we’re good for.”
Slowly, Willow’s eyes opened. The mauve haze had deepened to a shade of purple she had already seen once today.
Stumbling, parting ferns to step into one of the plantings, she went to the first stone angel she saw and stared into its face. Then she moved on to another, this one tall and very slender, its marble drapery falling in intricate folds.
“Willow, don’t be scared,” Ben said, so close behind her she reached back convulsively and grabbed at him.
He held her hand firmly, and for what seemed a long time they stood there, both facing the same direction, the skin on her palm and fingers pulsing at his touch.
“I’ve known there was a presence in this courtyard,” he said, keeping his voice low. “You’re feeling it, too. What do you see when you look at them?”
She knew he meant the statues. “Nothing. Just…just what they are.”
“Ah.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’ll explain later,” he said. “We should go where we can have some privacy.”
“I can’t leave yet,” she told him.
“Because you’re trying to find a statue that looks like the woman you saw in your Mentor’s book?”
She nodded, moving on to a figure so small she had to crouch to get a close look. This one had the round-cheeked face of a girl child.
Ben steadied her as she stood up again. He slid his free hand under her chin, then wrapped his forearm across her upper chest and pulled her back against him. “We’re going to work it out. We were made for this. It’s our destiny.”
“I’ve never felt it was mine,” she told him. “I’m not strong like you. Whatever these things are that happen to me are shadows beside what you can do.” She must be careful not to say too much.
“When people like us work together, we complement each other, Willow. You are a member of an extraordinary family.”
“Extraordinarily weird,” she muttered.
He chuckled. “We have to work on your attitude, my love.”
If she had the willpower, she would separate herself from him. She couldn’t do it, didn’t want to do it. “Why did you really come back to New Orleans?”
“You needed me,” he said promptly. “No other reason.”
She eased away and moved on, much more quickly than before, searching out the statues, even checking gargoyles on lintels although she knew their faces from memory and they could never be beautiful.
“Why would that man think the woman was so important? Ben, she did look as if she could be one of our angels.”
“I’m sure she did.”
“Do you know if Nat’s been looking for me?” she said, her heart slamming against her ribs. “Have you heard anything about Chris?”
She heard the shop doors open and slam shut. Uncertain steps approached, and Willow looked over her shoulder at Marley, who gave them a distracted smile.
“Hey, Marley,” Ben said.
She nodded to him.
“Did you hear from Nat again?” Willow asked her sister.
“No. But now you’re supposed to be on the run.” She smiled impishly, but didn’t seem as lively as usual.
“Meaning?” Ben said.
“Willow was sprung from her office by two accomplices and has disappeared. That’s the word around, anyway.”
He made a face and said, “But Nat didn’t call or come here?”
“Nope,” Marley said. “I think the media’s getting carried away—with a little help from someone called, Rock U.? Tattoo parlor owner with a place near your offices, Willow?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Guess I should have gotten over there to see what kind of place you were hanging out in. But I will today, anyway.”
Willow frowned but wouldn’t allow herself to ask any questions.
“I work for you now,” Marley said. “I’m the new indoor plant expert—until Chris gets back. I also plan extraordinary buffet tables and mix one-of-a-kind drinks. That means no two drinks are ever the same. I’m going to be so useful, you’ll wonder how you managed without me.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Willow said.
“No,” Ben said. “How many people have to tell you to keep yourself safe? Even the cab driver warned you.”
Willow snorted. “He didn’t mean what you mean. He… How do you know what the cab driver said?” She shook her head fiercely. “Don’t bother to say anything. You were there, weren’t you? I’m going to have to go over the Millet rules with you.”
“She’s all rules, rules, rules suddenly,” Ben told Marley. “Those are Millet rules, not Fortune rules.”
“Don’t argue about having me with you,” Marley said, her dark green eyes skewering Willow. “You would do the same for me. Without you it could have taken forever to find out what Gray had been through—but you could tell, you could actually see. Think of yourself as a butterfly coming out of a chrysalis, only you’ve waited a bit long and you need some help getting unstuck from the sticky stuff. I’m going to help—when Ben’s not around, that is.”
Willow put her hands on her hips and stepped too far away from Ben for him to touch her. “You’ve been talking about me,” she said. “Discussing me. All of you. I don’t like it.”
“She doesn’t like a lot of things,” Ben said. “Especially me.”
“I never said that,” she snapped back at him. She felt herself blush and added, “You can be a bit pushy, though, Ben.”
Marley raised her face to the sky. She watched the cloudless, haze-tinged blue intently, and Willow thought her sister was listening for something. She turned toward the shop and went in.
“I’ve got a bunch of questions I’d like to ask you,” Ben said when they were alone again.
This was the one person she knew who wouldn’t push her too hard. He never had. Ben treated her differently from anyone else in their circle—which had made her feel special for a long time, until Poppy pointed out that his deference only meant he didn’t think of her as one of them, not completely.
Trying to learn more about the courtyard—if there was more—would wait. “I’ve got something to tell you, too,” she said. “Let’s go up.”
Without waiting for a response, she started up the steps but turned back when she remembered Mario. He was already running behind her.
Ben stood right where he’d been, staring at her. That stare stopped her. “What is it?” she said.
“Just wondering what it’s going to take to get my way with you,” he said with a crooked smile. “I mean, to get you to do what I want you to do, of course,” he added. Suddenly, he looked exasperated. “I just want you to be sensible.”
She set her lips together and carried on to her flat.
On the threshold, she paused.
Ben crowded behind her, moving them both inside, and shut the door again.
“Did you have breakfast?” she asked for something to say.
“It�
�s lunchtime, but I’m not hungry,” he said. “I am tired. We haven’t had much sleep in the last couple of days.”
“I don’t think that’s going to get better soon,” she told him. “I mustn’t forget my appointment.”
He frowned heavily. “Yeah, you mentioned that. When is it?”
She didn’t want to lie to him. “Seven this evening.”
His face cleared immediately, and he might as well have come out and told her how relieved he was that seven o’clock was hours away.
“Excuse me,” he said and passed her.
Willow followed Ben and didn’t say a word when he unplugged the phone in her living room before moving on to the bedroom. Once more he disconnected the phone. “Make sure your cell’s off,” he said and dealt with his own. He threw it down on her bedside table.
Hesitantly, Willow took out her cell and made sure it wouldn’t become a way for someone to reach her until she wanted it to. She hadn’t missed what Ben did with his own phone.
“It’s warm in here,” he said and switched on the overhead fan. He raised his face and said, “Better.”
“It’ll be cooler in the living room,” she said and hoped he didn’t hear her swallow.
“Nope. This is the coolest room. This side of the building always is.”
“This is my bedroom, Ben.”
“I noticed.”
What was she supposed to say to that? Walking out would make her feel like a silly kid, but it was what she ought to do.
Ben went around the bed, flipped off his shoes and stretched out on the other side. He patted the mattress beside him and Willow turned hot, then hotter. She radiated heat.
“C’mon,” he said softly. “I’m not dangerous. Promise. We’ve earned some relaxation time.”
“And lying on my bed with you beside me is going to make me relaxed?”
“We-ell—you do have a point. But it’s up to you to control yourself.”
She bit back a smile. He always had the smart comeback. Willow sat carefully on top of her white cotton spread at the very edge of her bed.
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