Haunted (Witches of the Big Easy Book 3)

by Susan E Scott

  I felt boneless lying there facedown on my kitchen table, and I realized that I’d come without even touching my cock. All I could think about was how good we were together. I couldn’t help wondering how I’d be able to live without him if he left me. I had to tell him about me and my family, and soon, but I didn’t want to.

  He kissed my shoulder and eased out of me. I pushed myself up off the table and managed to get my jeans up before collapsing in the nearest chair. He asked me where the bathroom was, and I pointed toward it.

  He had no sooner left the room, than I heard the scrabbling sound of claws on the floors again. This time it was even louder. I jumped to my feet in a panic. Gage could come back any second and that-that thing, whatever it was, might be in the hall. I ran out and stood frozen in the doorway, because lumbering down the hall was a sight I’d only seen once before in my life and had hoped never to see again. It was as large as a man, but it wasn’t recognizable as one or anything else for that matter. It had a head like a dog, but with only one eye in the middle of its forehead and a long, misshapen snout. Its body was like an alligator’s, only shaggy with dark fur and longer legs. Its mouth was open wide, showing sharp, saw-like teeth. And worst of all were the ripped and torn rags of clothing hanging from its body, an old red shirt and what looked like some jeans.

  The only difference between this time and the one before was that now I could see right through the creature. The colors were faded out and grayed, as it lumbered down the hallway and right past me, taking no notice at all that I was even there. Before I could think of a spell to say, it disappeared quickly and completely.

  I realized it must be a residual haunting—like a replay on the ether, but no less horrifying for that. The moment I saw what the Bestiare had done to Christophe, the way it had reached out and sucked him inside its pages and spit him back out as a monster—that was the moment I seemed to be reliving. But why now, after all this time? What or who was causing me to see this horror? And for God’s sake, why?

  By the time Gage returned, I’d managed to go back in the kitchen and snag us a couple of bottles of beer from the fridge. I needed something stronger than water. I handed him one and said, “Let’s go to the library and relax.” When he nodded, I started toward the doorway, stopping suddenly and going back for the box of beignets.

  Gage raised an eyebrow as I walked past him. “Beignets and beer? A strange combination. Don’t make yourself sick. Besides, don’t you want to think about saving some of those for later?”

  I sighed, still feeling shaky, and put the box of beignets aside. “I guess you’re right.”

  Gage shook his head and chuckled. “If you eat sweets like this all the time, and from what I’ve seen, you do, why the hell do you have such a gorgeous body? There’s not an ounce of fat on you anywhere.”

  “Good genes, I guess—and I do work out, you know.” We’d made it to the library, and I reached up and gave him a kiss on the cheek before sitting down on the sofa. “Thank you for the compliment, by the way.”

  He looked puzzled. “What compliment?”

  “You said I had a gorgeous body.”

  “And you do, cher, but that’s not really a compliment—it’s just a fact.” I smiled at him, but before I could say anything, he stood up and walked over to the window looking out onto the back yard. He seemed a little uncomfortable, and I could tell that he wasn’t a man who was used to flattering his lovers, so maybe I was special to him, after all. After a couple of minutes, he turned to me. “Have you seen your visitor again?”

  “No, not exactly.” It was true. I hadn’t seen Emmanuel. Was a lie by omission still a lie? Not in a few days.”

  “At the risk of making you mad at me again, let me just say that he was probably a vagrant, and he’s moved on, a fact that makes me happy, because I was worried about you being here alone with him hanging around.”

  “Gage, I’m telling you it was Emmanuel. I saw him clearly.”

  “And how did you do that, cher? With binoculars that you can’t seem to find now?” He gave me a frustrated look. “Listen to me, bebe, if he was standing all the way back there at the edge of the woods, there’s no way you could have seen him clearly without binoculars, and maybe not even then.”

  I sat there for a minute, letting a sense of dread wash over me. This was it—time for the talk. I took a deep breath and said, “Yes there is.”

  “Oh, really? And how is that, Rafe?”

  “Psychically.”

  “Psychically?” What the hell do you mean?”

  After a small hesitation, trying to gather my thoughts, I said, “It’s one of the first things that all witches are taught to do. Sense things around them. Know things that others don’t perceive. My grandfather began instructing me when I was about four years old and apparently, I had a natural ability for it. When I focus, I see things.”

  He stared at me with a confused look on his face. “What kind of things?”

  “Images. That’s how I saw Emmanuel up close, but more about that later.” I felt a moment of panic because I’d just realized that I’d told him that all witches were taught how to see things in their minds, and I hadn’t even told him yet exactly that I was a witch. “Gage, there are things about me I need to tell you, because I care about you, and I think, I hope, that you feel the same about me.”

  He gave a quick nod of his head. “You know I do. I’ve tried to tell myself I’m too old for you—hell, I’ve told you that, but I was miserable when we didn’t see each other. I’ve never been good at relationships, didn’t want them, didn’t need them. As soon as a guy I was dating wanted to take our dating status to the next level, I was out of there. I don’t feel that way with you. With you, I want more.” He gave me a sheepish grin. “I hadn’t planned to tell you all this until we’d had a couple more dates, and you may think it’s too soon to make any kind of declarations, but….”

  I smiled at him and held up my hand, interrupting him. “It’s not too soon. I’m ready to make proclamations, affirmations, declarations or whatever else you want to call it, but that’s why we need to talk. There are things about me and my family that you don’t know, and I need to tell you before we go any further in our relationship. To be honest, I haven’t said anything before now because I’ve been afraid it would be a deal breaker for you, and I don’t want to lose you.”

  Gage looked worried. “I’ve known all along that there was something you weren’t telling me so go ahead and get it over with. If I didn’t make myself clear a few minutes ago, I’m crazy about you, Rafe, so unless you’re into something illegal, you’re stuck with me. Probably even if you are. I’ll just have to ask for conjugal visits in prison.”

  I shook my head. “It’s not anything illegal, but I’m afraid you’ll think I’m crazy. All I’m asking is that you hear me out before you make up your mind or say something stupid that might piss me off. Try to remain calm and listen to what I have to say. Promise me that you’ll try.”

  “I promise, although I don’t see why I have to since I’m always calm. As a matter of fact, I’m the soul of serenity and patience. Now, hurry and tell me whatever it is, because you’re making me nervous as fuck.”

  I couldn’t help an eye roll at the patience and serenity remark before I took another deep breath and said, “This is hard, Gage, but please remember that I’m telling you the truth, and I’m not crazy.” I stared into those beautiful turquoise eyes for a minute, hoping this wouldn’t be the last time I saw them. I mean, the whole situation had become contradictory for me. On the one hand, I wanted to make him believe that what I was telling him was the truth and not just assume that I was crazy, but on the other, it was possible if I did make him believe it, he might just run in the opposite direction. A pragmatic cop who doesn’t believe in anything supernatural with a boyfriend who’s a witch was not a scenario I could wrap my head around. I was just hoping he could, and I had to tell him, so I just spit it out.

  “I’m a witch, Gage. I come
from a long bloodline of witches. The Delessards have been blessed with magic since… well since we became a family, I guess.”

  Gage started laughing. So not what I expected. “You scared the shit out of me, cher. I thought you were being serious.”

  He knelt down in front of my chair and reached for me, but I put my hand up to stop him. “Please, just listen to me. I am being serious. I’m telling you the truth.”

  He stopped laughing and said, “Come on. So, you’re telling me that old Abel was a witch, and your brother and sister and you are all witches? Like, real witches?” When I nodded, he said, “Bebe, you know I don’t believe in all that crap, so quit acting like what you’re telling me is a fact. The joke isn’t funny anymore.”

  “Yes, Gage, I know only too well how you feel, but I’m not joking. It doesn’t matter whether you believe in it or not. I’m telling you the truth. There are people who don’t believe in a lot of things, like climate change and evolution and all sorts of things. I’m telling you that my Grandfather was quite powerful, and so are the rest of us. Well, not so much Beau anymore, but I think his magic is coming back, thanks to Nic.”

  “Whoa, wait a minute. Are you talking about Nic Gaudet?”

  “Of course. Nic’s a very powerful witch too. So is his brother, Gabriel, and all of the Gaudet family, but Nic’s the head of the Législateurs.”

  “The what?”

  “The Législateurs. They’re sort of the police or the “arm” of the witches who ensure that supernatural creatures follow the laws that have been set for them. Think of them as sort of a governing body. You may have heard them called by another name. I think you told me once that one of your grandmothers was Cajun and very superstitious.” He nodded. “Did you ever hear her say anything about Les Batons?”

  He sat there for a minute and then, with a frown, said, “Yeah, I think so. Maybe.”

  “Les Batons are the Législateurs. That’s a name that was given to them by the Cajun people. Baton means stick, you know, and I think they were called that because of their wands.” I shrugged. “There may have been other reasons, but I don’t know.”

  Gage didn’t say anything, at first. He simply sat there, staring at me, with no expression at all, and then, the look on his face changed. He looked incredulous, as if not only could he not accept what I was saying, but the fact that I actually believed what I was telling him—that I was a witch—was beyond his comprehension. Not just that, but I’d said there were others—whole families of witches. He put his hands on each side of my face and stared into my eyes. There was a sadness in his. “Rafe, I know that a lot of people in this part of the country practice all kinds of witchcraft, voodoo, hoodoo and God knows what else, but none of it’s real. You know that, don’t you?”

  “I know that there are people who pretend to have certain powers and carry wands and scam people for money, but they’re just posers. You’re right about them. They aren’t real witches, and the Législateurs usually take care of them when they hear about them—you know, pay them a visit and give them a warning. That’s usually enough to take care of the problem, but what I’m trying to make you understand is that there are real supernatural beings everywhere, all over the world. There are vampires and demons and warlocks, who only practice dark magic, and witches like my family and the Gaudets who practice the other kind of magic. We try to stay clear of the dark arts.”

  “When did you start believing this stuff?”

  “What stuff do you mean?” I’m sure my voice sounded cold, but he was beginning to piss me off. I thought I’d prepared myself for any reaction he might have, but maybe not.

  “Stuff like you’re a real witch, and vampires and demons and warlocks and ghosts are real, too. I’m asking you when did this start? Has it just been since your grandfather was murdered, and you found the body? I know that was traumatic for you. And then your brother-in-law vanished and your housekeeper and her son were killed. Then, your sister had a mental breakdown and your brother left you here alone in this mausoleum to deal with all of your emotions by yourself. All of that took place in a relatively short period of time and had to be extremely disturbing.”

  Okay, now he was starting to get on my nerves. I’d known he wouldn’t believe me at first, but I’d hoped I could get him to consider the possibility that I might be telling the truth, instead of totally delusional. I’d expected disbelief and maybe some anger. I wasn’t expecting a litany of reasons why I might be crazy, and frankly, he was pissing me off.

  He finally shut up long enough for me to get a word in. “Stop it, Gage. Stop right there. I’m not crazy, and I’m telling you the truth—I’m a witch! And all the Delessards and Gaudets are witches.” I stopped and just looked at him because I didn’t know what else to say.

  “I don’t think you’re crazy, cher, I just think you’ve had a lot of traumatic things happen, and it’s made you try to escape into some kind of fantasy world to be able to handle it.” He’d calmed down after that one outburst telling me that what I was saying was bullshit. Now his voice was quiet and had a reasonable tone. That might have been worse.

  All I could think right then was how infuriating he was, trying to reason with me. I’d known it was going to be hard to convince him of the fact that I was truly a witch and not batshit crazy, but I hadn’t considered that he’d look so worried about me. The fact that he was so concerned about me and my mental health should have made me feel good, but it didn’t. Who wants their boyfriend to imply that they’re crazy?

  Oh, if only I could turn him into the toad he so clearly is. I’m powerful, but I don’t know anyone who can actually do that. That’s just for the story books.

  I got a sudden vision of the thing in the hallway just that morning. My late brother-in-law Christophe, and I shuddered. It wasn’t a story book, but a creepy ass Bestiare that killed Christophe. I could maybe zap Gage with something, though, or do a quick little spell—nothing much, just something subtle and annoying. Before I could say or do anything, though, his phone rang. He snatched it up and barked, “Arceneau.” He was quiet for a second and then, “Oh, hi, Luc.” Quiet again. Then, “Another one? Where? Okay, text me the address, and I’ll meet you there.”

  ****

  Gage

  I ended the call with Luc and looked over at Rafe. “I have to go. Luc and I are on call this weekend, and there’s been a murder—another elderly woman. It sounds like it may be similar to one we investigated a few days ago. We thought at the time it was some kind of domestic dispute, but it might be something else entirely.”

  I didn’t want to leave him because he was visibly upset, and I didn’t want to go with things the way they were between us right now. I could tell he was more than a little pissed off at what I was saying, but he had to know, on some level, that what he was saying made him sound a little unhinged. I was really worried about him, and I think, in that moment, I recognized how much I cared about him. I touched his cheek. “I really have to go. I have to meet Luc.”

  He stood up and headed for the door without saying anything, his back stiff. Yeah, he was pissed. Just as he stepped out into the hallway, he stopped and turned to look at me. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to tell you that I read the article in the paper about that other murder, that Mrs. Henry. I realized I knew her. Kind of.”

  “What? How did you know her?”

  “She was one of the church ladies that brought food here when my grandfather died. I didn’t remember her name, but there was a picture of her in the paper, and I recognized her. She went to church with Camille. There were three of them that came out here to bring us food.” I didn’t mention, of course, that the last time I’d seen her was in the cemetery helping Camille call on Baron Samedi to try to raise my grandfather from the dead. There had been two other women with Mrs. Henry and Camille that night, and I wondered if this new victim was one of them. Those had been the same three women who’d come to bring food to us on the day of the funeral.

  “Okay. Do
you remember any of their names?”

  He shook his head. “No. Sorry. Actually, I’m not sure that Camille introduced them to us, but if she did, I don’t remember it. Beau might, though. I could call him if you need me to.”

  “No, not yet. I knew about the church connection, but I’ll let you know if I need you to call him. If it doesn’t look like it may be related to the other murder, there’s no point in bothering him.” I stood there for a second just looking at him. I was worried about him and hated to leave him, but I had to go. “Well, look, I’ve got to get out of here. I’m meeting Luc at the crime scene.”

  “Yeah. I heard. Will you come back here when you get done?”

  “I don’t know, Rafe. I don’t have any idea how long this will take, but I’ll be back if it’s not too late.”

  “Okay, but it really won’t matter if it’s late.” He shrugged. “It’s up to you.”

  I could tell he was still mad and trying to act cool, but it was a good sign that he seemed to want me to come back. Right now, I just wanted to take him in my arms and tell him everything would be okay, but I wasn’t sure that it would. What if he had a complete break like his sister did? I’d stand by him and never leave him as long as he needed me.

  “Rafe, I’d love to see you later. If I can, I will, okay?”

  He nodded, and I decided that was as good as I was going to get.

  I started to walk past him, and that damn cat of his hissed at me. Hissed! That animal absolutely despised me. I couldn’t understand it. I loved animals, and they usually sensed that and loved me back, but not this one. He was very protective of Rafe and seemed to pick up on his moods. To me, it was very unusual behavior for a cat, and I almost laughed at myself as the words witch’s familiar danced around in my brain.

  I must have said the words out loud because he reached down and picked the beast up. “What the hell are you talking about? Witch’s familiar?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just something that came into my head—you saying you’re a witch and all. Isn’t that what they’re called? The iconic witch with a black cat who helps with his or her magic.”