Undo Me (Bone Daddy Book 3)

by R. G. Alexander

  He stood up, watching her collapse on the ground where he’d been only moments before, crying as though her heart would break. The way his was breaking.

  “Time to go.” The familiar voice sounded regretful but resolute. There would be no second miracle for Bone Daddy.

  He bent down and focused on blowing a tendril away from her temple. “Always, Blue Eyes.”

  She lifted her hand to her face as if she felt the breeze and he smiled before following Legba through the gate that had appeared beside them.

  His day was over.

  Chapter 9

  “She hasn’t left the room for three days and she’s barely eaten.”

  “Bethany will come out when she’s ready. I don’t think you’d be doing any better if it was Rousseau who’d disappeared into thin air.”

  She smiled at Michelle’s protective tone as she stood in the hallway that led to the kitchen. What Allegra didn’t know was that Michelle had knocked on Bethany’s door every few hours, offering food and talking softly through the barrier. Keeping her company.

  Michelle was a good friend. The best one she’d ever had. However misguided, Catherine had been, too.

  It was strange, looking over the diaries again and seeing them with new eyes. There were still a lot of blanks, but she knew who she was. Or who she had been.

  Isabel.

  She touched the locket she’d kept pinned to her shirt since they’d brought her home. She knew how the latch worked now, but she couldn’t bring herself to look inside. Marcel had given it to her. Along with his promise that he’d find a way for them to be together. A promise that, in the end, he wasn’t able keep.

  Antoine had paid a woman to sneak into his room and tricked Catherine into leaving a note for her to “catch” Marcel. He’d admitted as much the first time he’d taken her to the cemetery to die.

  Marcel had never been unfaithful. He’d never betrayed her.

  She still couldn’t believe he was gone. Or that the Marcel she remembered had somehow become Bone Daddy, a sexual Loa who would live forever.

  Not dead. It was a comforting thought, despite everything.

  A part of her wanted to turn around and hide in her room for a few more days, but that wasn’t who she was anymore. No more hiding. She had to celebrate her life. It was too short not to. She owed him that much.

  “I smell something cooking. Is there enough for me?”

  She entered the kitchen and chaos ensued.

  Allegra and Mambo Toussaint both instantly wrapped her in their soft, relieved embraces. Even Ben lifted her up in a bear hug that left her feet dangling off the floor.

  Rousseau rushed to get a bowl for the seafood paella he was making, knowing how she loved all things Spanish, he told her with a gentle smile. And Elise passed by, handing her a glass of mango juice and kissing her cheek. She’d never had so much attention in her entire life.

  Michelle was the only one who hung back. She was smiling, but her eyes were wary. Bethany knew she was still worried about what Antoine had said. She’d admitted as much the last time she’d spoken through the door.

  That was one of the reasons she had to come downstairs. She jerked her chin toward the dining room, knowing Michelle would follow her. “I have something to show you.”

  Bethany set the puzzle box she’d brought with her down on the table and Michelle looked at it and her in confusion. “I’ve already seen this, Bethany.”

  “But you don’t know that it wasn’t Isabel’s. I—she isn’t the one who put it in her secret spot.”

  She smiled as the others crowded in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room, obviously unwilling to put forth the effort to pretend they weren’t listening avidly to every word.

  Michelle sat down in the chair across from her. “Then who?”

  “Only two other people in the world, besides Isabel, knew about the secret panel. Emmanuel.” Bethany felt the cool breeze and smiled lovingly. “And Catherine Toussaint, Isabel’s very best friend and confidant.”

  Michelle flinched, looking at the box as if it had turned into a poisonous snake.

  “Isabel had initially given it to her as a gift. A box they could hide secrets in. One only they could open, because they had to do it together.” Bethany shook her head wryly. “Isabel did love her secrets. Maybe that’s why I’m not a fan of them.”

  She placed one finger from each hand on two indentations on either side of the box. “Now you.”

  Michelle studied the remaining sides and then hesitantly placed a forefinger on either side and pressed in the small divots. The lid popped up with a click and the others gasped. Bethany slid the lid in a circle, opening it the rest of the way, as curious as everyone else as to what was inside.

  “It’s a letter.” Michelle’s voice was hushed, and Bethany was reminded of the first time she’d found that letter from Marcel and his locket.

  “Catherine must have gotten someone to help her put one last secret inside.”

  Elise Adair huffed audibly and glided to the table. “We’re drawing this out and it’s killing me. I am not a patient woman.” No one argued when she picked up the amazingly preserved letter and carefully unfolded it, studying the shaky handwriting. “It’s to Isabel. From Catherine.”

  Elise’s eyes began to water, and Bethany tapped her fingers lightly on the table, drawing the older woman’s gaze. “Out loud might be better. If you don’t mind.”

  “I’m not sure you’re right about that. But okay.”

  They all listened raptly as Elise read Catherine’s letter. The young Creole woman was obviously distraught and riddled with guilt over the events she had unwittingly set in motion as she wrote her confession to her dead friend.

  Catherine had been a paid companion to Isabel, instructed by her father to inform him of Isabel’s movements, a fact she’d been okay with until they’d grown up to become true friends. But she still needed the money.

  When Isabel fell in love with Marcel, Catherine truly believed he would break her heart and leave her as he left everyone else. But in the letter, she wondered if she would have fought as hard to break up their relationship if she hadn’t been selfishly worried about her own future.

  Antoine had tricked her. Used her concern to hatch a plan that would put Isabel in a compromising position, forcing her to marry him. Catherine only found out later what he truly was. A twisted practitioner of dark arts, a remorseless murderer. She hadn’t had any idea what he’d planned to do to Isabel.

  When she’d realized Isabel wasn’t where she was supposed to be, where Antoine had promised she would find them, she’d finally told Marcel, but she’d rightly assumed he hadn’t gotten to her in time.

  She’d been grief-stricken when the bodies of Isabel and her brother were found.

  The group was silent as Ben’s mother finished reading. “Marcel’s mother and mine commissioned the tomb for you and Emmanuel. I begged Marie Laveau herself to deliver retribution, and since Antoine was never seen again, I have to believe she answered my prayers.

  “I expect no redemption for my crimes. They are too great. You and your brother slain, Marcel missing and presumed dead, all for my poor judgment and disbelief in the oldest and strongest magic of all—love. For these offenses and the trust I’ve broken, neither I, nor any of my line, shall find lasting happiness in love until this debt is repaid. That is my vow to you. My vow to God. When we meet again, may it be as friends. For in my heart, I will always be yours. Catherine Toussaint.”

  Elise was visibly shaken as she read the last line, looking toward the mambo with damp eyes. “Oh, Annemarie. This is when it happened.”

  “The last piece of the puzzle.” Everyone turned to Allegra, who was staring at Bethany while her hand squeezed Michelle’s shoulder. “Don’t you see? If you’re Isabel and Michelle is—was Catherine, then the debt has been repaid. Her sight helped us follow Emmanuel and find Bone Daddy. She got rid of Antoine and helped Marcel save you.”

  “She did
. And Marcel got there in time. He didn’t have to watch Isabel die.” Bethany smiled through her tears. She stood and Michelle practically dove into her arms, both of them hugging each other, crying and laughing together.

  “I’m sorry I used to be a backstabbing bitch,” Michelle whispered.

  “I’m sorry I was a stupid, thoughtless debutante,” Bethany responded. “We’re so much cooler now.”

  “Damn right we are.”

  “Fate is a funny thing.” Mambo Toussaint wiped her eyes with a nearby napkin. “Michelle was always obsessed with Isabel’s treasure, Ben bought the house for Michelle, and together, they made sure Bethany came back to fix all that had been broken. Including the Toussaint curse.”

  Ben leaned over and kissed the mambo’s cheek. “I’ll show you how to sign up to that online matchmaking site later, if you’d like.”

  She whacked him in the stomach and everyone laughed. Everyone but Bethany, who felt the walls closing in on her again. “Not everything is fixed. Some things can’t be.”

  “What about the Gate of Guinee?”

  Bethany looked at Elise with a frown. “The Gate of Whozee?”

  Mambo Toussaint shook her head. “It’s too dangerous, Elise. They could just as easily decide to keep her over there as let him go. Although it does seem more and more like he is one loophole they might be okay with closing. A Loa but not a Loa.”

  Not a Loa?

  “What are you talking about?” Bethany’s teeth were clenched, but her heart was pounding with hope. “If there’s the smallest chance I could get him back, anything I can do, you need to tell me what it is.”

  “Bethany’s right, Mama. If it was Ben, I’d want the same thing.” Michelle tilted her head, listening to something only she could hear. “Emmanuel says they’re talking about the gateway to the other side. That there’s a way for the living to travel there, and he’s going with you so you won’t be alone.”

  “Okay, Bethany. This is not the weirdest thing you’ve ever done.”

  True, she was wearing a strong-smelling pouch of protection around her neck, held a piece of rum cake in her hand, and was currently walking all over the city looking for a nonexistent cemetery gate while talking to the ghost of her brother from a past life—but surely, she’d done worse.

  “If you look for the gate, it starts looking for you.”

  That’s what the Mambo had said. Every native of the Crescent City knew about it, but it wasn’t on any of the tours, and for good reason. It was the actual gate to the other side. If you were determined to speak to the dead, ask them a question, you could find it. Of course, there was every chance you would die horribly, or be held there as those you loved died, leaving you in a state of eternal purgatory.

  “All lovely choices,” she mumbled, trudging through the Quarter, trying to build up her nerve.

  There’d been no question in her mind that she would do it. For Isabel, who’d loved him helplessly, trapped by her own innocence and the times she lived in. For herself, for the chance to tell him what she hadn’t. That the person she was now, with no illusions about who he was or what he’d done, was in love with him. And damn it, she absolutely refused to go the rest of her life without letting him know.

  She turned a corner and stopped abruptly, looking behind her and back down at her map. There shouldn’t be a cemetery on this street, but she was looking directly at it.

  The map fluttered in the sudden breeze and she folded it up, slipping it in her pocket and holding her hand open at her side. “Take my hand, Emmanuel. Don’t be afraid.”

  She felt her palm cool and smiled. Somehow, she felt better with him at her side. Isabel had loved her little brother as though he were her own child. It was one of the reasons she’d stayed so long with her father. She’d wanted to take him with them when she and Marcel ran away, but instead he’d died trying to protect her. He hadn’t deserved his fate. None of them had.

  The wrought-iron gate began to open on its own. There were sparks flying off it, strange lights hovering around it, and she shivered. “We can do this. Allegra once swam with sharks, and she believes in us.”

  “Sometimes it’s that leap into the darkness that can be the most worthwhile.”

  She took a deep breath and began to walk forward. No turning back now. “Time to leap.”

  It was strange, how easy it was to walk through the gate. She’d been sure there would be some resistance, some barrier she’d had to fight through. But nothing. Then she noticed that the air had changed. The sky. It was as if the color had been swept out of the world, leaving in its place a sepia-toned copy. There were tombs lining the road, a few benches here and there, even a shack in the distance. But it wasn’t right. It didn’t feel real.

  “It’s real enough. You look lost, little girl.”

  She whirled in place, eyes widening when she realized the gate had disappeared, leaving the barren road, with another crossing it, heading off into forever.

  A man was there. A kindly looking old black man with a smile and a curious expression. The hair on his head and face was white, and he was leaning on a cane.

  “Where am I? Am I here?”

  He shook his head. “Are you here? Is that really your question, little bookworm? You only get one, I know they told you that. Better make sure it’s a good one.”

  “You look familiar.” Bethany squeaked at the young male voice, surprised to feel a tight grip on her hand where before there’d only been cold. Standing beside her was a ten-year-old boy with raven-black hair and large blue eyes. Emmanuel.

  The man’s smile broadened at the boy’s words. “You’ve seen me before. Many times, I think. Manuel, right? Isn’t that what your sister always called you? You’ve been very brave.”

  The boy puffed his chest out at the male admiration, his expression proud. “Real men should take care of the people they love.”

  “That’s right. That’s right. Good boy.” Sparkling eyes lifted to meet Bethany’s, though it was clear he was still directing his conversation to Emmanuel. “I once knew a man who took care of the people he loved. His past was as checkered as his heart was pure, but he did the best he could. A long time ago, on the evening of All Saints’ I believe, he nearly died trying to save the little brother of the woman he loved from being sacrificed along with her.”

  Bethany held her breath. He was talking about Marcel.

  Emmanuel’s eyes widened. “Sacrificed?”

  The man grimaced. “Dark craft. Nasty business. I don’t like to talk about it.”

  “What happened to the man?”

  “Well, boy, you know Papa Ghede protects the innocent and the very young. It was his night to roam the earth, and when he realized what had happened, he took pity on the man, who also happened to be the son of someone close to the powerful voodoo queen. Ghede had a soft spot for that woman, too, I can tell you.”

  Marie Laveau? It had to be. Marcel’s mother had been one of her apprentices. Bethany opened her mouth to ask a question, and the old man’s finger instantly came up to silence her. “One question. But wait until I’m done telling this sweet child my story.”

  She nodded and he continued. “The man was heartsick. Cut up, yes, but pained in a way that no medicine could heal. And being wise, Ghede knew that even if he turned back the clock, as he had before, the world was not ready for what this man truly desired. He also believed the woman was not quite finished becoming what she was going to be. It was a puzzle. But then, anything to do with time usually is.”

  “What did Papa Ghede do?”

  “The only thing to do was wait. Problem was, he knew the man would go mad with the memories and it would twist him up in the in-between time, so he made him forget. I was given the task of watching over him, while we let him do what he did best until his second chance came around.”

  What he did best? “Sex.”

  He shushed her. “I was going to say helping people find their true happiness, but yes. There was plenty of that, as well as a
ll the so-called wishes he granted. It isn’t usually how we do things, but it kept him occupied so we let it slide.”

  Bethany nodded. For some reason the way this man was explaining things made their decision sound perfectly reasonable. It also made BD sound more like a voodoo version of Cupid than a devilish incubus. She’d never thought of him like that, but she could see it now.

  “Okay then, I’ve told my story. Now ask your question.”

  He’d answered most of them with that story. Marcel hadn’t died that night. He’d become Bone Daddy. A temporary Loa. Which explained why he knew so little about them and why, for the most part, they’d left him alone. He wasn’t really one of them. Not completely.

  She only had one question left that mattered. “Since he’s not a Loa and he didn’t really die, how can he return to my world to live out a life with me?”

  He chuckled. “That sure he wants to, eh?”

  Isabel may have had her doubts. But about this, Bethany had none. “I am.”

  He nodded. “That’s good. I like that, and I see Ghede was right again. I suppose the answer to your question is easy enough. You are the one he was waiting to find again. The reason we brought him home in the first place. So, if he wants to leave with you, all he has to do is ask.”

  “I’m asking. I want to be with Bethany.”

  She was afraid to turn around. He was here. Right behind her. She shuddered, looking down to see Emmanuel practically glowing with happiness.

  The old man smiled with fondness and what she swore was a touch of regret. “You sure now? You can’t take it back. One short, fragile life with only one woman. I say only one because I have a feeling if you step out on this one, you’d get more than a slap on the wrist.”

  She glared, but he was ignoring her, waiting for BD’s answer.

  “I don’t want anyone or anything else. Just Bethany.”

  A tear slipped down her cheek. He loved her. She’d known, but hearing him choose her over an eternity of sensual satisfaction... How could she ask for a stronger declaration than that?