His face lit up. “I’d love to.”
“Great. I’ll call you.” I turned and left, whistling as I walked to my car. I was feeling good—better than I had in a long time.
****
Rafe
I watched Gage walking to his car and heard him whistling, which I hoped meant that he was happy. I wanted it to mean that because I certainly was. I shut the door thinking that it had been a wonderful evening, and there had only been a couple of glitches that I needed to take care of—well, actually three.
Two of them were my fault, and I’d have to remember to be more careful until I had the talk with Gage, explaining about my family and me. When I’d displayed the time on the ceiling, I was relieved that he’d thought it was one of those clocks that does that. I’d gotten away with that one, but then I followed that up with turning on the lamp without touching it. I don't know what he thought about that, but thankfully he didn’t say anything. Doing those little things were second nature to me, but I had to remember that not everyone could do it. I hadn’t even thought about it, and I’d need to be more careful. In my defense, I’m always a little disoriented when I first wake up, especially after being knocked out like I was. I mean, the man had cut my lights out, as they say, and it had been wonderful.
I shook my head to clear it before I went off into a daydream about Gage. I had the third glitch to deal with now. I walked through the entry hall, calling out, “Celeste, where are you? Celeste! Answer me. You know you’ve been a bad girl, and I know you can hear me, so listen to me.” I walked into the living room and looked at the portrait hanging over the fireplace. It was the woman for whom this house had been built.
Standing there in a long white dress, her dark hair blowing in the wind, she was beautiful, and the epitome of the lady of the manor. Her name was Celeste Delessard, and she was my grandfather’s grandmother and was our resident ghost. The funny thing was that, even though she’d lived to be about ninety years old, she’d apparently decided to always appear just as she looked in that portrait. I was talking to it now, since, clearly, she had no intention of appearing to me.
“Celeste, you know that you aren’t supposed to be wandering around when anyone other than family is here. You and I both know you were just being nosy about my guest, but you could have checked him out without materializing. And that’s another thing, I’m really surprised that he was able to see you. How did you make that happen?”
I heard a very distinct giggle and then, a whisper with a slight French accent. “Perhaps he will be family one day, chéri.”
“What the hell does that mean? Are you trying to tell me something?” I waited, but there was nothing else. “Okay, Celeste, be that way, but remember, no appearances when there are strangers here.” There was still no response, and I sighed heavily. “You know, sometimes you can be very annoying.”
I heard another faint giggle and then silence, so I turned off the lights and started toward the stairs. I heard a faint noise, like claws scrabbling on the floor in the hallway behind me, and I turned, almost dreading what I might see. It had to be Loki, of course. What else could it be?
And then that smell hit me. Dark magic. I had smelled it before, especially when the earlier trouble with Beau and Nic was going on. And now it was back.
It could be Christophe’s ghost, an evil little voice inside my mind said. I wouldn’t go down that hall if I were you.
“Shut the fuck up,” I told the little voice, and turned the lights back on. Instantly the noises stopped as if turned off by that same switch. I heard a low, moaning sound coming from the hallway nearest the kitchen. The same hallway where we’d found the poor mutilated monstrosity that once had been Christophe.
“Exite, mali spiritus!” I cried out, and then sprang around the corner to confront whatever might be there.
Nothing. Only a silence so profound it had to be supernatural.
“Christophe?” I whispered. “Is that you?”
I held still for a moment as a ripple in the air passed right by me, brushing against me, and I sensed a terrible evil and intense danger. All my senses told me to run, but I held my ground, whirling around to face…nothing. Not even a trace of anything visible. No mists or apparitions. But something was there, and I could feel it in my bones and my blood.
“Whoever or whatever you are, get out of my house! I command you evil spirit. Exite!”
As soon as I said the final word commanding the spirit to leave, there was a lightening in the ether. Like something dark and malevolent had moved away. Not far, and it wasn’t completely gone. It was still in the house. But it wasn’t menacing me quite the way it had a moment before. The smell dissipated too, and the air seemed thinner, the hallway less crowded with terrible memories.
I murmured a protection spell and went back toward the stairs, feeling suddenly drained and exhausted. When I got to my room, I saw that Loki was lying in the middle of my bed, stretched out and looking comfy. He raised his head and looked at me, but didn’t bother to move. I sat down next to him and stroked his head. “You’re going to have to move over, big boy. And when did you come up here? I thought you went downstairs with us. Did something down there scare you?”
I crawled into bed with my cat, who very generously moved over a half inch to make room for me to lie down, and reached for the book I’d been reading the day before. Just as I got settled in, I heard a loud knocking sound. I put my book down and listened. I’d been hearing that sound for a few days now, but I hadn’t been able to determine where it was coming from. Loki set up a fierce, low growling. The sound seemed to be originating from inside the walls, and I’d heard it in different places all over the house. I shivered at the thought. I wasn’t afraid of much, but this was beginning to feel like a serious infestation of some kind. Something malevolent and evil wanted me to suffer. To be scared. Maybe even wanted me dead. “Fuck you!” I called out to whoever or whatever might be listening. “Get out of my house and don’t come back.”
Silence again, and then after a few more tense minutes, the knocking stopped. I got out the black salt I’d bought at the voodoo shop and placed it at my threshold, whispering another spell as I laid it down. Something along the lines of “Evil shall not pass here.” Then I got back in bed and picked up my book again. I made myself read a few more pages to calm down and that was the last I remembered until I woke up with the morning sun shining into my room and the book lying on my chest.
Despite the drama of the night before, I was in a happy mood, not the norm when I first wake up, and then I remembered why. I had a date tonight with a gorgeous man, and I hadn’t had a real date in quite a while. The truth was that the last few I’d been on had been less than stellar, so I’d just sort of given up on dating. I was excited about this one, though, and it felt good to feel that way again.
I spent a ridiculous amount of time in my closet trying to decide what to wear. I’d decided to take something to work with me to change into for the date so I wouldn’t have to come back home to get ready. Thankfully, the office at the bar where I worked had a private bath with a shower that I could use. By the time I left, I’d loaded three outfits, black dress shoes, casual loafers, deodorant, cologne, and of course, my hair products, into my car. It looked like I was leaving town for a few days, maybe a week, but I didn’t know where we’d be going, so I had to cover all the bases.
I’d expected Gage to call early, but by the time I got to work around ten o’clock, I still hadn’t heard from him. Eleven o’clock came and went, then twelve. By that time, I’d decided that he’d changed his mind and my mood had plummeted from lighthearted and depressed. Yeah, and maybe a little pissed. Why even ask me if he was going to change his mind? I could just imagine him waking up this morning and wondering what the hell he’d been thinking—asking me out on a date.
I’d worked myself up into a solid depression by the time my phone rang. I yanked it up off the bar and barked into it. “Hello.”
“Rafe, are you
okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
I was going for cold and disinterested, and it must have worked because he said, “You sound upset about something.” He paused for a second, and when I didn’t say anything, he cleared his throat and went on. “I’m sorry I haven’t called before now, but things have been a little crazy around here.” He cleared his throat again, and I couldn’t help but smile. He was nervous. “Anyway, I called to confirm our date for dinner. Are we still on?”
“Oh. Oh, absolutely.” I could feel myself smiling from ear to ear. Hell, I must have been beaming because even a couple of guys sitting at the bar, who’d wandered in to drink their lunch, had looked up and were smiling at me. I guess it was true what my friends always said about me. I really was a drama queen. I’d worked myself up over nothing.
“Great. I’ve made a reservation at Irene’s, if that’s okay with you. I’m kind of in the mood for some good Italian food, but if you’d rather go somewhere else, I can cancel the reservation.”
“No, that’s fine, but how in the world did you get a reservation there for tonight? I thought you had to make them days in advance for that place.”
He chuckled. “I know someone. I get off at six, so do you want me to pick you up at the bar or Ravenwood?”
“Just pick me up here at the bar. I brought a change of clothes with me.” Or three. Thank God I’d brought a suit and tie.
“Good. I’ll see you around six-thirty then.”
I hung up, still grinning. I could feel my mood getting better already.
****
Gage
It had been a hell of a day. Luc and I had been dispatched to the murder of an elderly woman, a Josephine Henry, first thing that morning. She’d been killed in her home in the same general neighborhood as the Ravenwood estate, and the house had been ransacked, like someone had been looking for something. It hadn’t looked like a robbery because there were three flat screen tv’s and other pawnable items still in the house. We’d spent the morning talking to neighbors and making a list of family and friends to interview. Odd to have two murders in a neighborhood that was usually so quiet. I made a note to check and see if the Henry woman had known Camille Dubois.
By the time I got a chance to call Rafe, it was already almost one o’clock. I have to say, he did sound pissed off at first, but as soon as he realized that I wasn’t calling to cancel the date, he mellowed out. Damn. I could tell already that if I decided to pursue a relationship with him (and it looked like that’s where I was headed), he was going to be a handful, but I didn’t care. I was up for the challenge and life would certainly never be boring.
As soon as I ended the call, I looked up to see Luc staring at me with both eyebrows raised. “What?”
“Sooo, you’re taking your boy to Irene’s? Kinda expensive for a cop, isn’t it? Unless, of course, he’s somebody special.”
“Eavesdrop much?”
“Hell, man, I’m sitting three feet from you. How could I not hear you?”
I grinned at my partner and best friend. “And isn’t that convenient for you since you’re so curious and all?” He gave me a mock hurt look and I laughed. “Anyway, he’s not a boy, mine or otherwise. He’s a man.”
“Yeah? How old is this man?”
“Twenty-four, I think.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Still, that’s young for you.” I must have had some kind of look on my face that made him realize I’d taken offense at that, and he needed to explain himself in a hurry. He held up his hands and said, “Now, wait a minute, I didn’t mean that you’re too old for him. I meant he’s younger than the guys you usually date, that’s all. I’m the one who told you to go for it.”
“Yeah, well, I like him. He’s kind of got a smart mouth, but I seem to find that attractive.”
“Hm. I guess it doesn’t hurt either that he’s gorgeous.”
Just thinking about how hot Rafe was made me smile at Luc. “There is that.”
He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “My only advice to you is that if you happen to get lucky tonight, take him to your place. Don’t go to his.”
“Why not?”
He gave me a disbelieving look. “Are you kidding me? That place is creepy as hell. I don’t think I’d be able to get it up in that house. I’d be too worried that a ghost or two would come strolling through the bedroom.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You know I don’t believe in any of that shit anyway.” It suddenly came to me that I’d thought I’d seen a woman in a long, white dress walk past the kitchen doorway, but that had to be just a trick of the light or something. Didn’t it? Anyway, I didn’t see any reason to share that bit of information with Luc—not that nor the fact that I’d already spent several hours in the house. I’d never hear the end of it. Thankfully, before he had time to comment on my belief, or disbelief, in the supernatural, he got a phone call regarding a follow-up on the case we were working on.
I spent most of the rest of the day talking to potential witnesses on the case and holding my breath every time the phone rang, afraid that we’d get a call for something else horrible about ten minutes before we were supposed to finish our shift and be stuck at work for hours. That would just be just my damn luck. I did find out that Mrs. Henry had gone to the same church as Camille Dubois, but that could just be coincidence. I didn’t like them, but they did happen. I put it on the back burner for the next day though, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I walked out to my car.
I called Rafe as soon as I was driving to let him know I was on my way, and I’d see him in a few minutes. That turned out to be an overstatement, because as I was crossing the bridge from Gretna into New Orleans, the traffic ground to a halt as the bridge turned into a parking lot. I guess I only sat there for about ten minutes, but it was ten minutes too long for me. Finally, traffic started moving again, and when I got across the bridge, I saw an old beat up truck sitting over to the side with the hood up and a couple of guys working on it. That had to have been the problem.
When I got to Royal Street, I parked in front of the Golden Lantern. Finding somewhere to park in the Quarter is a nightmare, but I had what is commonly known as a take-home car with the Gretna PD logo on the side, and I could double-park on the street for at least an hour before the New Orleans patrol guys came looking for me to ask if I could move it.
I walked into the bar just as Rafe was coming out of what I assumed must be an office. All I could think when I saw him was damn. He was fucking beautiful. He was wearing a charcoal gray suit that fit his body perfectly and complimented his dark hair and eyes. As he walked across the room, smiling at me, I noticed that every guy in the room was staring at him, and I didn’t like it. Not one damn bit. Something about Rafe made me feel territorial, but at the same time, I liked the fact that they were all watching him when he walked straight to me. I have to admit, it gave me a definite feeling of satisfaction for everyone to see that he was with me. It was a new reaction for me because I hadn’t ever felt that way—even in the one long-term relationship I’d had. His name was David, and I’d thought I was in love, but he ended it because, according to him, I didn’t care enough—never jealous, never affectionate, never any of the things he needed me to be. Jesus, David was probably right. I’ve known this guy like a couple of minutes compared to my relationship with David, and I’m feeling all the things I should have felt back then.
As Rafe walked up to me, I looked down at him and smiled. “Sorry I’m a little late. I got stuck in traffic on the damn bridge.”
“No, problem. We didn’t say a specific time. And you’re only about ten or fifteen minutes later than I expected.”
“Okay. Good. You ready to go?” At his nod, I put my hand on his back, making sure that everyone knew then, if they didn’t catch it before, that we were together. As we walked out, I said, “You look great, by the way.”
He looked pleased. “Thank you.”
As soon as we were out the door, he noticed
my car, parked right in front. “Wow. Being a cop has some perks, doesn’t it?”
I laughed at that. “Some, but not many. I couldn’t leave it here overnight, but it helps to be able to leave it on the street for a few minutes. I’m going to leave it in the reserved parking space for my apartment, and we can just walk to the restaurant, like we talked about earlier, if that’s okay. It’s only a few blocks, five, I think, and the weather’s nice. It isn’t too hot or humid today.”
“Sure, that’ll be fine.”
I parked the car, and we walked down Royal to St. Ann Street, then turned right onto Chartre. From there, we made our way the few blocks to Bienville Street where Irene’s was located. It had been a pleasant walk with both of us telling funny stories about our jobs, so it hadn’t seemed to take long at all.
We arrived a few minutes early for my reservation and after I gave the maitre d’ my name, Rafe turned to me. “So, tell me how you got this reservation on such short notice. What’s your secret?”
I chuckled. “It’s no mystery. I just happen to know somebody.” He raised his eyebrows, questioningly, and I continued, “My cousin is the manager here.”
He laughed. “Well, lucky you.”
We were shown to our table soon after that and, on our way, Rafe raised his hand to wave at someone, but I didn’t have time to check it out because we’d arrived at our table.
Once we’d given the waiter our drink order and he’d walked away, a man appeared next to Rafe, putting his hand on his shoulder. I looked up and saw that it was Nic Gaudet’s brother, Gabriel.
I’d only seen him once recently, when I went to his office to tell him about some ritualistic murders I thought he and his brother might have a hand in, so I guess I must have looked surprised. He nodded to me and said, “Good evening, Detective. I’m sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted to speak to Rafe.” Before I could say anything, he put his hand on Rafe’s shoulder and asked if he was doing okay. When Rafe told him that he was fine and asked how he’d been, he said, “Busy. I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. I promised Nic I would be, but I’ve been a little preoccupied.”
Haunted (Witches of the Big Easy Book 3) Page 8
