The King of Bones and Ashes
Page 32
Lisette grabbed her husband’s arm. “This is the woman I told you about. The one . . .” She fell silent, looking a bit embarrassed.
Lisette’s husband stepped forward, going around Evangeline and grabbing Nathalie’s hand. “I’m Lisette’s husband, Isadore,” he said, “You get tired of that security job of yours, you got a job with me.” He pumped Nathalie’s hand as she blushed. “We’ll talk. The two of us. Afterward.”
Lisette’s son, one of the prettiest boys Evangeline had ever laid eyes on, came around and took Lucy by the hand. She leaned in and placed a chaste mama’s-watching kiss on his lips.
Hell, it looked like everybody knew everybody around here.
“Mrs. Perrault,” Lucy said, her voice cracking a bit.
“Miss Endicott,” Lisette replied, with a deadpan expression.
“Remy,” Fleur said, and the boy looked at her like a deer caught in headlights.
“Ma’am?”
“Thank you for helping my daughter through this difficult day.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, only a little less panicked. He wrapped his arm around Lucy’s shoulder, and the two headed out toward the pier.
A younger woman, by appearances Lisette’s daughter, came up behind her, frowning. “You’re going to let him off that easily? He’s been sneaking around with your daughter . . . ,” she said, addressing Fleur.
“Manon,” Lisette said, swatting her on the shoulder.
“Everyone just lets him off the hook.”
“Don’t worry, Miss Perrault,” Fleur said. “Your brother has more than met his match in my Lucy.” Manon’s gaze followed the young couple on their way to the pier. “His days of just doing as he will have come to an end.” Evangeline noticed the two mothers flashing each other a knowing smile.
Fleur approached and placed her hand on Nathalie’s forearm. “I was going to suggest you wait for us in your vehicle, but you seem to know everyone here,” she said. “Would you care to join us?”
Nathalie answered with a bob of her head. “Yes, ma’am, I’d be proud to.”
They crossed together to join Hugo and the young lovers on the pier. Hugo reached down and picked up the urn that held Vincent’s ashes. He came up to Evangeline and placed a kiss on her cheek. She reached out and took him, urn and all, in her arms.
“You okay?” she said.
“Hell no,” he said. “I’m stone sober.”
“Well, we can do something about that,” Alcide said, coming up behind them, offering them a flask.
“Thank you,” Evangeline said and took a drink, coughing. “What the hell? Is that even really whiskey?”
“A blend of whiskey and the finest tanker-truck vodka. Does the job, cheap and quick,” Alcide said and chuckled, as she held the flask out to Hugo.
Evangeline noticed Lisette was watching closely—an angry, concerned look in her eyes as they narrowed on her father’s flask in Evangeline’s hand.
Hugo grasped it, then looked down at it, seeming to consider his options. He closed the flask. “I think I need to be here for this. Really be here,” he said, holding the flask out to its owner. “But don’t go far. Something tells me afterward . . .”
“I feel you, son,” Alcide said and smiled. He slid the flask back into his suit pocket and patted it. “Here for you when you need it.”
Lisette leaned in and whispered something into her husband’s ear. Isadore nodded and began walking their way.
“Alcide,” Isadore said. “You play something.” He clapped his hand on the older man’s shoulder. “Something real nice. Something to put old hurts behind us. Something to honor a good man.” Evangeline’s heart broke when she saw the way he looked at his wife. She hoped that someday someone would look at her with even half of the love she saw in Isadore’s eyes.
Alcide nodded and raised the horn to his lips. He began to blow the purest and sweetest notes Evangeline had ever heard.
At that very moment Lucy flung off her boyfriend’s arm. “No, I don’t want to do this,” she said. Her face was red, angry tears beginning to fall down her cheeks.
Alcide stopped, lowering his horn.
Fleur joined her daughter, reaching out, but the girl refused to take her hand. “Honey, what is it?”
Lucy looked around at each of them, then out at the river’s rushing current. “How do we know?” she said. “How do we know this is what Uncle Vincent really wanted?” She turned, for some reason picking Evangeline out of the crowd. “The man who told us this is what he wanted wasn’t Vincent. It was a monster, pretending to be Vincent. It was the thing that killed Vincent.”
Lisette walked up to the girl and pulled her into her arms, squeezing her tight. “It is what Vincent would’ve wanted.”
“How could you know?” Lucy said.
“The bastard took Vincent’s heart, so he could know Vincent’s true feelings. So he could perform a perfect impersonation of him.” Lisette’s eyes drifted from Lucy’s face to her husband’s. Evangeline could tell they were having an entire conversation, without ever saying a word. He nodded. “Besides, a very long time ago, I knew your uncle very well,” she said, never taking her eyes off her husband. “In fact, I loved him. Very much. Just not quite as much as I do my husband,” she said and paused, giving Isadore a chance to hear the truth of her words. “We may have heard it from the lips of a monster, but this is exactly what Vincent would’ve wanted.” She returned her focus to Lucy. “You can believe that.” She nodded in affirmation as she wiped away Lucy’s tears. The girl smiled and threw her arms around Lisette, squeezing her tight. Lisette placed a kiss on the top of her head, then turned her over to Fleur’s embrace.
Lucy wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. “Okay, so this may be what Uncle Vincent would want, but today is Independence Day. I thought we were supposed to do this on Mardi Gras.”
“Oh, ma chère ma’selle,” Alcide said, lifting his horn to his lips. “That river doesn’t care.”
EPILOGUE
“Well, I thought he’d never leave,” Daniel’s head poked into the carousel.
Alice watched in disbelief as a tiny gray flash of fur dashed past him, bounding up to her. Sugar. The same sweet kitten face, though wizened—miniscule pink nose and peridot eyes still far too large for her face. Sugar put her paws on Alice’s legs, kneading her with impatient pats, and Alice lifted the feline into her arms.
“Honestly,” Daniel said, “I don’t remember your grandfather being such a blowhard.”
“He isn’t my grandfather,” Alice said, as Sugar began rubbing her head against her chin, purring. “You must have heard, he’s—” Alice tried, but couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge Celestin as her father. Instead she voiced the one thing about him she knew for certain to be true. “He’s a monster.”
“Sadly, my dear, I’ve learned there are many unpleasant truths in life, and the truth is, he’s both monster . . . and father.”
Daniel climbed up onto the platform and reached out, leaning in for a hug.
Sugar twisted in her arms and yowled at Daniel.
“Well, yes,” Daniel said. “You were right. You did find her.”
The cat made another sound that seemed to defy polite translation.
“There’s no need . . . ,” Daniel began, but then leaned in, putting his nose almost tip to tip with Sugar’s. “Well, all right then, you little fiend, tell me. Now that you’ve found her, how exactly do you propose we get her home?”
CHARACTER LIST
THE MARIN FAMILY
Celestin Marin—Patriarch of the Marin family and deposed head of the Chanticleer Coven, once New Orleans’s most powerful and influential coven.
Laure Marin—Celestin’s deceased wife. A risky spell worked outside the auspices of the coven led to Laure’s commitment to a psychiatric facility for witches. Laure is the mother of Nicholas, Vincent, and Fleur.
Nicholas Marin—Celestin and Laure’s elder son. Nicholas challenged Celestin to become the current
head of the Chanticleer Coven. Nicholas is the father of three children: Luc, Hugo, and Alice.
Astrid Andersen Marin—Nicholas’s absent wife. A fragile, artistic witch who used her magic to escape the Marin family intrigues, though doing so meant deserting her young children.
Luc Marin—Astrid and Nicholas’s eldest child, Luc is the likely challenger to his father’s position as head of the Chanticleers. He blames his father for his mother’s desertion.
Hugo Marin—Astrid and Nicholas’s middle child. Hugo comes to rely on drink and drugs to mask his own sensitive nature.
Alice Marin—Quiet. Introverted. Always watching. The Marin family is hard on its women, and Alice seems destined to follow in her grandmother’s footsteps.
Vincent Marin—Nicholas’s younger brother, Vincent has been blessed with a lack of magic that allows him to lead an independent life of his own choosing. Vincent, unmarried and childless, tries to act as a father figure for Nicholas’s neglected children.
Fleur Marin Endicott—Celestin and Laure’s youngest child. Celestin forced her into a marriage of convenience with a Washington up-and-comer, Warren Endicott, in the hope of seeing Fleur rise to First Lady. As that marriage comes to its dissolution, Fleur is determined to become her own woman.
Lucy Endicott—Like a millennial-generation Mephistopheles, Fleur’s outwardly superficial and undeniably spoiled teenaged daughter feigns indifference, but always finds ways to improve the lives of those around her.
THE SIMEON—PERRAULT FAMILY
Soulange Simeon—The spell that led to Laure Marin’s commitment also caused the death of this once great Voodoo practitioner. Bad blood has run between the families since Soulange was found dead and Laure wandering mad out on New Orleans’s haunted Grunch Road. Soulange was the original proprietor of the famous French Quarter Voodoo supply store, Vèvè.
Alcide Simeon—Soulange’s husband, musician. He blames the Marin family for his wife’s death.
Lisette Simeon Perrault—Soulange and Alcide’s daughter. Following Katrina, Lisette suffered a crisis of faith. Although she runs Vèvè, Lisette no longer practices her mother’s religion.
Isadore Perrault—Lisette’s husband and owner of one of New Orleans’s premier landscaping companies. Although Isadore takes pride in having a true partnership with Lisette, he defers to her in matters of religion.
Manon Perrault—Lisette and Isadore’s elder child, Manon is a no-nonsense self-starter who is currently completing her undergraduate degree in business.
Remy Perrault—Lisette and Isadore’s teenage son. A visual artist, Remy is preparing to begin college in the fall. Lisette is struck by the similarities between her father, Alcide, and her son.
THE WITCHES OF NEW ORLEANS
Evangeline Caissy—Stereotypes would imply that the solitary witch, a red-headed Cajun, is more temper than heart, but her past has taught her both patience and compassion. A former exotic dancer, Evangeline now runs her own Bourbon Street club, Bonnes Nouvelles, with an eye toward providing for her dancers after their performing days are done. Whether as an enemy, lover, or surrogate mother, Evangeline finds herself connected to each of the Marin men, though she hides the secret of her birth from them all.
Mathilde, Margot, Marceline, and Mireille—The sister witches. Having arrived on the banks of the Mississippi before New Orleans became an American city, the four sister witches are New Orleans’s first and oldest sorceresses. They are heartless, ruthless, and capable of changing form to meet their needs. Three of the sisters survive; Mireille, the youngest of the sister witches and Evangeline’s mother, died after falling for a storefront church preacher and turning against magic.
Delphine Brodeur—The sister witches’ former servant, Delphine was brought to New Orleans at the age of thirteen, over two centuries ago. With magic fading, Delphine has grown desperate, trying to hold on to her power long enough to exact revenge on her former mistresses.
The Chanticleer Coven—Once dozens strong, the moribund coven has dwindled to the Marin family and eight degraded witches: second in command, Gabriel Prosper and his sister Julia, the vain and punctilious Monsieur Jacques, the steadfast and sturdy sergeant at arms Jeanette, the elderly and addled Rose Gramont, Rose’s much younger self-appointed caretaker, Guillaume (Guy) Brunet, and a brother and sister duo known as “les Jumeaux” or “the Twins,” who strive to function as a single, indivisible entity.
Nathalie Boudreau—Part-time security guard, part-time chauffeur, full-time psychic, Nathalie has a sixth sense that lands her in situations her good sense would tell her to avoid.
Babau Jean—Also known as “John the Bogey,” Babau Jean is New Orleans’s own born-and-bred bogeyman. Go on. Turn out the lights. Face the mirror. Call his name three times. He’ll see you.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Creating a book is a team effort. I’d like to thank Jason Kirk at 47North for understanding that the book envisioned may not quite be the book that gets written. I’d also like to thank Angela Polidoro for, once again, doing all the heavy lifting, Kristen Weber for early input that set me on a better path than I could have found on my own, and my beta readers, including Ermin Federizo Mistica, Pat Allen Werths, and Evelyn Phillips.
Finally, I’d like to thank my loves, Rich Weissman, the world’s most understanding spouse, our daughters, Becky and Maddy, and Quincy, the rescue Chihuahua who rescued me.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2017 Mark Davidson
J.D. Horn, the highly praised and bestselling author of the Witching Savannah series, now debuts a new contemporary fantasy series, Witches of New Orleans. A world traveler and student of French and Russian literature, Horn also has an MBA in international business and formerly held a career as a financial analyst before turning his talent to crafting chilling stories and unforgettable characters. His novels have received global attention and have been translated in more than half a dozen languages. Originally from Tennessee, he currently lives in Oregon with his spouse, Rich.