Shadows of Bourbon Street

by Deanna Chase

  She stared at me with uncertain eyes.

  “Oh, please. Just keep it,” Pyper said lightly. “She has at least a dozen more, I’m sure. You wouldn’t believe that bead stash of hers. Beads everywhere. Seriously, if she wants you to have it, you should just take it. Otherwise she’ll keep arguing with you about it.”

  I did my best not to laugh. Pyper wasn’t too far off. I did have more, but they weren’t infused with magic like that one.

  Finally Matisse nodded. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” I glanced at Kane. “I guess the last thing to do is contact Chessandra.”

  Matisse stepped back and wrapped an arm around Vaughn’s waist, her expression hardened with anger. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll be in touch.” She tilted her head up and looked at Vaughn. “Can you take me home?”

  “Of course.” With a nod to us, Vaughn took one step and the pair of them disappeared into the shadows.

  “So fucking badass,” Pyper exclaimed.

  I laughed and then turned to Kane. “I’m ready. Let’s get married today.”

  He turned his elated gaze on me and tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. “You got it, pretty witch.”

  Chapter 27

  Pyper took us to the hotel to grab our stuff and Kane’s car. But before we headed back to Cypress Settlement, Kane and I stopped off in Coven Pointe. We’d made a plan to meet Maximus at Dayla’s. I’d made a promise to him, and I intended to keep it.

  The three of us stood on Dayla’s front porch. I turned to Maximus and held out a note card.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “You said you wanted to meet with the ex-demon Meri. I called her, and she agreed to speak with you. Just call to set up a time.”

  “You’re a woman of your word, Ms. Calhoun.” He nodded to Kane in appreciation.

  I rolled my eyes and gestured to the door. “You ready for this?”

  He nodded.

  “You’d better be,” I said, remembering the last time Kane and I had been there. I knocked.

  A moment later the door opened, and Matisse stood in the doorway.

  “Hello,” I said. “I’m so glad to see you made it back here.”

  “Me too.” She smiled. “Thanks to you.”

  “Thanks to Vaughn,” I corrected. All I’d done was convince him to help her.

  Her smile faded, and I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened once they’d left the club. But it wasn’t any of my business. It was obvious they each had intense feelings for the other, but one afternoon couldn’t fix whatever had happened between them. “Did you want to come in?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “No. Thank you. But we brought someone who really wants to speak with Dayla. Is she here?”

  Matisse cut her gaze to Maximus and regarded him with obvious skepticism. “Yes, but I don’t know if she wants to talk to you.”

  “Five minutes,” he said.

  “I’ll ask.” She shut the door.

  “Do you want us to stay?” Kane asked him.

  He smirked. “I hate to say yes, but she’s a powerful witch. I’d prefer we had witnesses.”

  Kane chuckled. I frowned at both of them but said nothing.

  The door swung open, and Dayla stood in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. Her light hair was piled high on her head, secured with a pentagram hair clip. Interesting. “What the hell are you doing here?” Her gaze bored into Maximus with such intensity I was surprised his head didn’t explode on the spot.

  Unconsciously, I took a step back.

  Maximus cleared his throat. “Dayla, it’s lovely to see you again. I just have one question for you.”

  “What?”

  “When exactly were you going to introduce me to my child?” His words were so cold, I actually felt a chill crawl up my arm. His child? Was he talking about Fiona? Had he not known?

  Dayla didn’t even flinch. “You had no rights to her. You took what you wanted and left. Just like all incubi do.”

  Whoa. These witches had some serious hate for the demon hunters. I sent Kane a sidelong glance. After a while, would I start to resent him taking my magic for himself? I found it hard to imagine. So far, Kane had been more worried about the magic transfers than I had. As long as he remained considerate, we could work it out.

  “I was called to the order, Day. You know that.”

  “Do not call me Day. You hear me, Maximus? I’m not yours, and you are entirely too familiar.”

  His nostrils flared in irritation, and I was starting to suspect we should leave quietly. I took another step back, but Kane put his hand on my arm and whispered, “They need to answer a few questions for us first.”

  “I just want a chance to know my daughter.” Maximus pulled out a business card. “She can reach me through that number or the address if she chooses to come by. Make sure she gets it.”

  “Like hell I will.” Dayla went to tear it up, but when she tried to rip the paper she couldn’t. She tried again and grunted in frustration. It would’ve been funny if there hadn’t been so much anger flying through the air.

  “Only the one it’s intended for can alter it. If you throw it out, it will find its way back into your house.” He tipped an imaginary hat at her and said, “Good day, milady.”

  Dayla threw the card, but it floated back into her hand. “Damn you. Why didn’t you just give it to her yourself, you fool?”

  He glanced back. “Because I wanted it to come from you.” He gave her a self-satisfied smile and then disappeared into the shadows.

  “That’s a neat trick those guys do,” I said.

  Kane nodded. “Yes it is.”

  “Can you do that?”

  “Yep.” He turned to Dayla. “Good morning.”

  She scowled in irritation. “I am not pleased you brought him here.”

  Kane shrugged. “I’m not exactly pleased you spelled me without my permission.”

  She pursed her lips and then forced out, “What can I do for you, Mr. Rouquette?”

  “I have a question. It’s about this incubus thing. Is it permanent?” Kane asked, surprising me. He’d taken the oath.

  “Yes.”

  “Even though you said you’d lift it once Matisse was found?”

  Her eyes narrowed and frustration seeped from her being. Was she frustrated because we were questioning her? We had a right to know. She pushed her bangs to the side and regarded us with fake sympathy. It made me want to unleash a firestorm of magic on her.

  She opened her mouth, then closed it. After clearing her throat, she said, “I lied.” A second later the door slammed shut.

  “I guess that’s it then,” I said, tucking my arm through Kane’s, not at all surprised. Dayla struck me as the type to do whatever she needed to in order to achieve her goal, even if it meant using other people. No wonder she and Bea didn’t get along.

  “Is it?” Kane asked as we headed back to his car.

  “Sure. What can we do about it?”

  “I don’t know.” He pulled the car door open for me and then went around to the driver’s side and climbed in. He started the car and let it idle while he collected his thoughts. “But we—well, I—made a life-altering decision without taking any time to consider the ramifications. I wanted to explore our options, if we had any.”

  “And now we don’t,” I said, stating the obvious.

  “I’m sorry for that.” He brought my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles.

  “It’s okay. I understand. I really do.” I pressed my palm to his cheek. “You’re a good man. You were faced with an impossible decision. Either become a hunter or sit back and let other souls be taken. If I were you, I would’ve made the same choice.”

  “I know you would’ve. It’s probably part of the reason I couldn’t say no.” He f
olded me into his arms, hugging me tight. And when we broke apart, he grinned. “Let’s go get hitched.”

  ***

  The sun was low in the sky and streaming in the ceiling-to-floor windows at Summer House when my stepfather Marc and I descended the last steps of the grand staircase. Even though it was last minute, all of our immediate friends had found a way to attend. Kat and Lucien, Lailah and—Lord help me—Jonathon, Pyper and Ian, Charlie and her girlfriend, a handful of the New Orleans Coven witches, my mom, Gwen, and Kane’s parents. A few of Kane’s friends and his best man were there too. And even Maximus and Bea. It was intimate but perfect.

  They all stood as Marc guided me down the aisle, and when I met Mom’s tearful eyes, I almost lost it myself. I paused and reached out, squeezing her hand briefly. Last year at this time, there had been no hope of her being at my wedding. Nor my stepdad. My heart swelled, and nothing in this world could’ve made me happier—except the love shining back at me when Marc handed me off to Kane.

  “You’re gorgeous,” Kane whispered as he leaned in to brush a kiss over my cheek.

  “So are you.” I scanned his body, taking in his tailored suit that showed off his wide shoulders and slender waist. My body started to tremble with the reality that this was truly happening.

  “Relax,” Kane said, squeezing my hands. “It’s just you and me now.”

  “For always,” I said, getting lost in his gaze.

  The minister cleared his throat.

  Kane and I turned to face him, and a huge smile broke out on my face. He couldn’t have been a day under seventy-five. He wore bright green golf pants paired with a button-down rainbow-striped shirt, argyle socks, and Birkenstocks. He even had a knitted cap to top off the outrageous outfit.

  The minister winked at me and then addressed our small crowd. “We are gathered here today to join this witch and this incubus in holy weddedness. Is there anyone here who thinks this sounds like a good idea?”

  Everyone laughed.

  “Yeah. Me neither. But they look like they like each other, so who are we to judge?”

  Kane chuckled, and when he smiled at me, everything else disappeared.

  By the time our quirky minister got to the vows, our guests were teary eyed from laughter, and I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate our union.

  “Do you, Kane, love this woman?”

  “I do,” Kane said, humor lighting his eyes.

  “Do you promise not to steal all her power?”

  “I do.”

  “And do you promise to feed her cheesecake in bed at least once a week?”

  He laughed. “I do.”

  “Good. And you, Jade, do you love this man?”

  “I do,” I said through tears of joy.

  “Do you promise to give it up when he needs your strength?”

  I choked and sputtered on a bubble of laughter. “Yes. I do.”

  “And do you promise to remember to keep the fridge stocked with beer, especially during football season?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Good, we have an agreement. The beads please?” He held his hands out, and Shelia ran up to the makeshift altar holding two strands of plastic heart-shaped beads. The minister smirked at us. “It’s not a wedding on Mardi Gras without beads.”

  “You can say that again,” I said and nodded in Shelia’s direction. She toasted me with a large hurricane glass.

  The minister handed each of us a strand of the heart beads and had us repeat after him.

  Together we said, “With the beads, we do wed.”

  “Excellent!” The minister clapped his hands together. “By the great state of Louisiana, I now pronounce you a married witch and incubus.” He turned to Kane. “You may now kiss your bride…but don’t get too crazy.”

  Kane swept me into his arms, tilted me backward, and kissed me so thoroughly I forgot where we were…that was, until all the whooping and hollering brought me back to myself. He carefully placed me back on my feet and tucked my arm into his. “That’s it, it’s official,” he said into my ear.

  “Yes, it is.” I wrapped my hand around his neck and leaned in. “And I wouldn’t have changed a thing.”

  “Yes!” Pyper came bounding up and wrapped one arm around each of us. “Finally! Now let’s party! It’s Mardi Gras, bitches!”

  I laughed. “You heard her. What better way to celebrate a wedding than Mardi Gras?”

  We didn’t have to say it twice. They all started to file out to their cars. Ever since Pyper had mentioned celebrities and the names Brad and Gerald, they’d all been more than ready to go.

  I started to follow, but Kane grabbed my wrist and held me back.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  He scanned my body, his eyes roaming over my gorgeous, silver-beaded dress. “I just wanted to get one last look at you before we join the masses.”

  “And something else, perhaps?” I rose on my tiptoes and brushed my lips over his.

  He chuckled. “You know me all too well, Mrs. Rouquette.”

  “Oh, I love the sound of that.” I traced my fingers over his jawline.

  “So do I, pretty witch.” His tone was low and husky. He glanced out the window at our friends climbing into their cars. “Do you mind being a little late to the party?”

  The desire humming just beneath the surface of his skin sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine. “No. Not at all.”

  He pulled me to him, pressing me to the hard length of his body, showing me just how much he wanted me. And as the sound of cars starting and driving off toward the city wafted in through the front door, my husband kissed me again. Then he swept me off my feet and carried me back up the grand staircase.

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  Defining Destiny Excerpt

  Chapter 1

  Dear Reader,

  The Destiny series is set in an alternate reality that is just like ours with the exception that everyone really does only have one true soul mate. And that connection has a magical element that affects not only the couple, but the people around them. This is Lucy and Seth’s story.

  Lucy

  Exhilaration. It’s the only word to describe the post-concert high. At least for me. The cheering audience is in another state altogether. Peaceful. Joyous. Enlightened. It still amazes me that this is our gift to the world.

  “Amazing show!” Les calls over the roaring crowd and gestures to Cadan and me. “I swear, that connection you two have gets stronger every day.”

  Cadan gives me a self-satisfied smile. “See, Lucy? I told you they’d love the new songs.”

  Irritation sours my good mood and I snap, “They would’ve been just as happy with the old ones.”

  His smile turns patient as he puts an arm around me. “Oh, come on, babe. They’re great songs. We had to debut them at some point.”

  I slip from his grip. “No. We didn’t. Besides, they’re mine. It was my call, not yours.” We have a bunch of songs we’ve written together that are fan favorites, but in the last twenty minutes of our set, Cadan had started singing the new ones I’d written. He’d managed to get the band to practice the music without me even knowing.

  “It was a surprise. For you.”

  When I don’t respond, he frowns. “What’s wrong, Luce?”

  Jesus. He never listens. “I wasn’t ready yet, Cadan. I told you that.” Those songs are important to me. They’re the ones I wrote a few months ago after my father died, and while I’m proud of them, they’re deeply personal. They’re for me. I’m not even sure I want to release them.

  “Oh, babe,” he says softly and pulls me to him. “I didn’t realize this would be so hard for you. But look at what happened out there. Everyone was deeply moved. Think about what you g
ave them.”

  It’s the only thing that got me through the three songs he’d sprung on me. Twenty seconds into “You’re Always Here,” the crowd hushed as the bittersweet lyrics and melody wound their way into their hearts. The connection with the audience had touched me to my core. But that was beside the point. I was tired of Cadan steamrolling me. “I admit—”

  “Encore,” Les yells over the noise and pushes us back onto the stage.

  Cadan’s amber-flecked eyes flash with triumph, then he leans in close to my ear. “I knew you’d come around.”

  It’s too loud for me to correct him. I’d been about to say I was pleased with the reception, but I hadn’t been ready and I was still pissed as hell he’d forced the situation. Not to mention how utterly violated I feel by the way he’d exploited something so personal to me.

  We take our positions center stage. The deafening volume of the crowd ratchets up a few decibels. I beam at them. This is what makes being on the road three out of every four weeks bearable. The soul-mate connection Cadan and I share is meant for them. Not me. And not Cadan. Though I’m pretty sure he thinks it’s all about him. He’s twenty-four and full of rock-star ego. Reining him in is impossible most days. It’s only during the rare, quiet moments we get together that he’s anything like the guy I fell in love with two years ago, before our records hit any charts and before our lives were turned upside down by success and fame.

  Cadan gives the cue, and I mentally prepare for “After the Fall,” our most popular song. It’s how we close every show. But instead of the strum of the guitar, the keyboard player starts a slow, haunting melody. My heart stops, and I gape at Cadan.

  He pretends to not notice my reaction, but his knuckles are turning white from his death grip on the mic. He’s worried. And he should be. Because I’m frozen. The words are clogged in my throat.

  Tears are already burning my eyes as emotion chokes me. Cadan cuts his gaze to me, waiting for me to sing the first lines of the song. I shake my head violently. How could he do this to me? I can’t do this. I’ll never make it through the lyrics. My heart will burst wide open on the stage.