A Late Summer Bloom

by Cherrie Mack

  “Such as the case of Hitler?”

  “Yes.”

  “But, doesn’t that human have to possess some supernatural gift?”

  “That is also true. It is rare, but history has shown us it can happen. And can easily happen again. This is why our covens do everything we can to make sure the humans dismiss these powers as nothing but hocus pocus. It is too dangerous, otherwise. Luckily, most humans with a supernatural capacity repress it. However, you do get some who learn how to use it to their advantage and control others. Charles Manson was one such human. It made him an easy target for the warlock who took his soul.”

  “A warlock can hide under the human cloak for how long?”

  “Until they get hungry.” Jacques raised his arms and within seconds they stood in a green field with nothing around for miles. “Come, Julien. There is much to learn.”

  Chapter Six

  It was after midnight, and Giselle lay awake in her bed anxiously awaiting her vision. It had been the same scenario for weeks now. Coming only when she was relaxed, this vision was without malice. The faceless man, whom she assumed would become a lover, touched her in a way she’d never been touched before. Always bringing her to the height of desire, the experience was pleasurable as much as it was frustrating. She was sure she’d never met him before. And if her visions always came after the fact, then what was going on? Wishful thinking, maybe. She hunkered down under the sheets and stared at her ceiling fan. Around and around and around it went. Still nothing. Irritated, she threw back the covers and got out of bed.

  Retreating to the bathroom, Giselle threw cold water on her face. Dabbing her skin with a towel, she stared at her reflection. Her long wavy hair hung over her eyes, shameful eyes. As she pushed the thick, dark ringlets away from her forehead, Giselle realized she couldn’t get away from herself. Her twentieth birthday loomed ever closer, and her fear of the uprising took hold. Would she turn into evil incarnate? Or would she somehow manage to wield great power?

  She trudged back to her bed, sat on the edge, and thought about the last ten years. It was her tenth birthday when she had her first vision. Her need to understand what was happening to her outweighed the horror of what she witnessed.

  But it was her mother’s words that stopped her cold. Grabbing her arm, her mother spat. “It’s happening. You have the blood of Natas running through your veins! The evil you see foretells of your future. You will be what you see. Look away, Giselle! You must repel the visions. The evil is looking for a way in. Don’t let it in. Keep it out.”

  But it was hopeless. The visions came for her one night after the next.

  That summer, her mother woke her in the middle of the night, taking her from the only home she had ever known, and they left the French Quarter of New Orleans. They arrived in Washington, Louisiana, where her mother introduced her to an old friend of her great-grandmother’s, Angelique Fayette. The woman’s compassion fueled Giselle to be strong when her mother picked up, left her, and never returned. She climbed back into her bed. Sadness held her in its indelible grip until the second thing she craved most came for her. Sleep.

  ****

  Angelique reveled in the placid quiet of early mornings. She took her time enjoying the most simple of tasks. Whether it was baking delicious sweet breads or brewing a strong pot of coffee, she practiced living in the moment. But on this morning, her usual routine had been interrupted, and her voice rose above its normal pitch. Holding the phone receiver to her ear, she violently shook her head, loosening the blondish-white bun at her nape. “No! I am adamant about this, Percy! Cecily Jareau took off and left her for ten years without so much as a word. Do you think, with everything going on, she is up for a reunion with that woman? I’ve told you everything I know. We’ve been over it hundreds of times. I—I don’t know who Giselle’s father is. These witches today are encouraged to bed all the males they can. I think it’s disgraceful. The ways of the coven should require the father and husband to be one and the same. Percy, you are head of the royals, there must be something you can do to get Cecily to reveal the truth. She wants us to believe Giselle carries a curse and we shouldn’t trust her, but at the same time, she wants us to hide her and keep her under our protection. It makes no sense.”

  Resentment poured from Angelique like a faucet on full blast. The house quaked with emotion and the atmosphere crackled with energy. The appliances flickered on and off. A vase floated in the distance, the television screen sputtered images of dark and light. A car engine could be heard outside humming, while every ceiling fan in the house spun out of control. Out of the corner of her eye, Angelique saw Giselle slowly descend the steps. She watched her reaction, witnessing Angelique’s tirade. In Giselle’s eyes, it must be an anomaly.

  Hanging up the phone, Angelique took a slow controlled breath, bringing everything to a screeching halt.

  Giselle stood at the bottom of the stairs, staring at her.

  Angelique approached her. “I’m sorry my dear. I know it’s a rarity, but I lost my temper.”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose, sucking air between clenched teeth as if quelling a sharp pain between her eyes. After a moment, a slight vibration was the only evidence of the chaos happening seconds before.

  Angelique struggled for control by breathing slowly and keeping her voice calm. Never one to tiptoe around any subject, she told Giselle what made her so angry. “Sweetie, your mother has returned to Cottonwood Landing.”

  Giselle stared at her.

  Angelique nodded her head in disgust. “Mm hmm. And here’s the best part. She wants you to go there.”

  Giselle bit her top lip, “Well—I refuse. Can’t I refuse?”

  Angelique shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I’m afraid you might not have a choice. If I know Percy the way I do, he’ll send a traveler here to escort you to Cottonwood Landing.”

  “This is my home, Aunt Angelique. I live here. With you. Please don’t send me back. Especially to her. I’m not ready.”

  A no nonsense woman, Angelique decided to give it to her straight. “I’m afraid we’ve reached the end of the line. We are in a do or die situation. I’ve been ginger with you for years, I’ve never pushed or prodded you. But, as much as I protest, it is the right thing to do. We are losing members of the coven to the warlocks at a maddening pace, and it must end. The travelers are outnumbered. They cannot be everywhere. You are the only one who holds the power to stop Natas. I believe you can do it. You must go and do what you were born to do.”

  She watched Giselle slowly blink her eyes, the information sinking in.

  “Fighting Natas is the sole purpose of my existence? The only reason I am here? Is it not to love or be loved? To give life with my body? I want to be a special light in the lives of the hopeless.”

  Angelique offered a sympathetic smile. “Giselle, the tenth power is light. You, Mon Cheri, can be the light of the world.”

  Giselle leaned her weight on the baluster. “How much time do I have?”

  “I’d guess a week, but no more. They won’t risk it. Soon, you will have warlocks hot on your trail. They’ll need to take you alive Giselle, don’t be afraid to fight them.”

  She sputtered a sorry giggle. “Fight them? I can’t even get a spell right. No—I was hoping I’d meet—” Giselle hushed.

  Angelique knew she wanted something. “Tell me. What is it that you want?”

  “I’d like to visit Desiree Mercier.”

  Angelique rolled her eyes. “Ugh. That coven is way too modern for my taste. And the French Quarter? It’s so dangerous.”

  “Okay.” She said sheepishly, turning around to walk up the stairs.

  Angelique wanted desperately to make her happy. “Wait. I hope I’m not sorry about this but—go.”

  Mid way up the stairs Giselle stopped, turned around and smiled at her. “Thank you Aunt Angelique. You won’t regret this.”

  “I already do, dear.”

  Chapter Seven

&nb
sp; Jacques LaFeoure paced near the edge of a waterfall, worry creasing his brow. The sound of water gushing into the river below was loud, but serene. The time had come for Julien to return to the earthly realm. But, it wasn’t his safety that had Jacques concerned. Julien sailed through his final challenge, leaving Jacques to think him one of the best warriors he’d seen this century. What troubled him was his daughter, Giselle’s, sudden trip to New Orleans. And, since he also had the gift of the veil, it surprised him. How did I not see that coming?

  As a pristine Umbrella Cockatoo flew overhead, squawking in his direction, Jacques chuckled. The bird gave an elaborate acrobatic display as it circled him, landing squarely on his shoulder. “Ah, Simon. You always come when I call.” The bird bobbed its head up and down.

  “I won’t keep you. I know how much you love to fly, and here in this realm, there is never a time limit.”

  The bird lifted its foot to its beak, biting at its claw.

  “I need you in New Orleans.”

  Stopping immediately, the bird lifted it head and squawked loudly.

  “Yes—I know how you feel. We all have our history. You must find a witch named Desiree Mercier. She will try to interfere with the tenth power. You must stop her. Keep in mind, her intention is out of love. That is all.”

  The cockatoo flapped its wings before taking flight.

  Jacques stood tall, mesmerized by the bird’s exit as it flew high above the falls, then dropped, driving its body faster and faster toward the bottom of the waterfall. “Show off.” He muttered.

  “Who’s a show off?” Julien stood looking around, clearly confused.

  “Hello, Julien. I informed the master of your success. It is time to transition.”

  Julien straightened his spine and smiled wide. He not only looked like a warrior, he looked anxious to get started. He bowed his head in a display of respect. “And my assignment?”

  Jacques bowed his head in mutual respect. “I have trained you well and had the pleasure to watch you morph into a worthy opponent for the warlocks. Remember, if you are physically hurt you must seek out sanctuary in one of our many caverns. Did you memorize the incantation on how to unbind the caves?”

  Julien nodded. “Yes, I have. I learned the routes of all the cloisters within the south eastern borders. I know the feeding habits of the warlock. I know where and how they like to hunt. There is no assignment you can give me that will have me spooked. I am prepared.”

  Jacques studied him. “Hmm—very well. Your assignment is to escort Giselle Jareau, the tenth power, to Cottonwood Landing. But first you must unlock her powers and teach her as I taught you. You see Julien, Giselle does not know the proper way to use her powers. You must step in and guide her. Do you think you can handle such a task?”

  Julien clenched his fists. “This is what I trained day in and day out for? To be a glorified babysitter to some undeserving tenth power? I signed up to kill warlocks, not babysit some sorry little girl who can’t wield magic or throw a punch.”

  “Are you refusing your assignment?”

  Sighing loudly, Julien scratched his head. “Can you, at least, give me a different one?”

  “Giselle is important to the destruction of Natas’ army. She doesn’t believe in herself. She lacks the know-how and passion to defeat the evil rising up from the earth’s core, probably because she was never given the proper information or shown the correct techniques necessary to use her power. You must use my teachings, the teachings of the master, to help her unlock her massive gifts. It is only then that she will be able to defeat Natas.”

  Julien shook his head in denial. “Why do you need me? Why wouldn’t you go to her and show her everything yourself? Can’t all this be done by the master and the travelers? Even her coven could lend a hand. Why depend on a young girl who claims to know nothing?”

  “Natas must be defeated in the earthly realm. There are things you will not understand now, but given time, I believe you will see the reasons for this path.”

  After a few moments of silence, a sullen Julien gave Jacques a nod of acceptance.

  He put his hand on Julien’s shoulder. “Something has come to my attention. An unforeseen issue is happening at this very moment with our witch. Come. Let me explain.”

  Chapter Eight

  Giselle sat cramped, her feet propped up on a hump in the floor of a hot, smelly bus. She had a window seat, a cold bottle of water, and some time to herself. However, it wasn’t enough time to dream of a life filled with possibility. Not even enough time to take in the sights of her old hometown. She had only enough time to say goodbye to her oldest and best friend before traveling to Cottonwood Landing. Would she ever see Aunt Angelique again? Her home? Giselle was beginning to realize this trip would be her last. Tears began to blur her vision, so she focused on Desiree.

  Her only friend was, as many would say, her own girl. She did things to please herself, not others. One of the most fun loving and lighthearted witches Giselle knew, Desiree journeyed through life with joy. But the last few times they communicated, Desiree was pessimistic about the discovery of her own true calling. By twenty-two years old, most witches knew their special gift. Not Desiree. She still waited.

  The more she thought about her old friend, the more excited she became. Since Giselle had been a little girl, children and adults shied away from her. She could be cursed, they would whisper. But Desiree would march straight past the stares and whispering, put her arms tightly around her for everyone to see, and squeeze. “Don’t let those fuck-wads bother you,” she would announce loudly.

  Giselle giggled at the thought and caught quite a few looks because of it. Eh, I’d rather they think I’m crazy, than cursed.

  When she disembarked from the bus, she was slapped in the face by air as thick as molasses. The smell of the city was one she never forgot, but the river breeze off the bayou made her long for home. A fleeting recollection of beautiful, open spaces made Giselle long for Angelique and the safe haven of Washington. But, when she remembered the warm beignets sprinkled with fresh powdered sugar the city is so famous for, she happily made her way to the square.

  After entering the heart of the city, she stopped to buy the delicious dessert. Her stomach roared with hunger as she took a seat on a bench. As she savored every bite of the warm pastry, she tapped her foot to the jazz music bellowing out of local cafes. She watched the people swarm the artists and tarot card readers. Why did she wait so long to cut loose and visit New Orleans?

  There was no denying how much she’d grown to love Angelique over the last ten years, but she’d stayed far too long under her thumb. And although her time was limited, before a traveler comes to escort her away, she would take the next few days of independence to cram in whatever she could. Helping herself to another mouthful of beignet, Giselle’s attention was diverted by the presence of a little Yorkshire terrier.

  “Well—hello there, little guy." The irresistible creature quickly brought out the animal lover in her. She put her hand out to offer the dog a small piece of her pastry. The pup sniffed at it suspiciously, making her heart swell with empathy for the little pooch.

  Scooping the dog up into her arms, she stood up and carried him to the square. She scratched him behind the ears, while looking for his tag. Never would she leave the dog to his own devices. She was involved now. She’d hold tight until she could ask Desiree what to do. “You’re all alone, huh? Not a friend to be found? Yeah—me, too.” Giselle held the dog close to her breast, feeling it squirm until it came to rest near her shoulder. “Don’t worry, little guy. I’m meeting a very good friend. She’ll tell me where to bring you.” Knowing Desiree would never be late, she searched the streets for her.

  A few moments later, she grinned with glee when she spotted a very familiar witch. Desiree Mercier had wild dark hair, the kind which did not cooperate with the humidity of New Orleans. And today it looked angry as it flew about her head. With bangle bracelets up her arm, large hoop earrings, and four rin
gs on each hand, Desiree set herself apart from the crowd. Although encouraged to hide her heritage, she found a way to announce her witch-hood with style. A long white tee-shirt fell just past her hips over a sheer, flowing, ankle-length skirt. A thick silver belt hung low on her waist. Thinking her the quintessential symbol of witch-hood, it made Giselle take note of her own clothing. She wore stonewashed jeans and a simple white tee-shirt.

  How Boring.

  Giselle walked straight toward Desiree when she noticed her eyes widen with delight. Both squealed with joy when they came together for the first time in ten years. Holding the dog in one hand, she turned her body and leaned in for a hug. Desiree pushed her back with outstretched arms. “Let me look at you. Is it possible that you look the same?”

  “Uh huh, stray dog and all. I just found him. Isn’t he cute?” She held the dog up.

  Desiree rolled her eyes. “You still look like the lost ten-year-old little girl that left the quarter ten years ago. Have you not learned anything about being a woman?”

  The words, spoken with pity, were not meant to be cruel. But Desiree spoke the truth. While everyone else around her grew up, she’d been held back from experiencing life. In many ways, she did indeed still feel like a little girl.

  As if her friend realized the harshness of her words, Desiree quickly apologized. “I’m sorry, Giselle—it’s just that I was expecting someone—different. Merde! I am always blurting out things I shouldn’t!”

  “It’s okay. You’re right.” She choked the words out, trying to keep her emotions in check. But the tears insisted on falling. Wiping at her tears caused her grip on the dog to loosen. The little pup jumped from her embrace and ran into the crowd.

  Turning to chase after the dog, she pulled up short when Desiree’s hand caught her arm. “No Giselle. He’ll find his way. Owners let their dogs run around the quarter all the time. Besides, something didn’t feel right about that dog.” Desiree draped her arms around her and held tight. “Come—let’s go eat and have a chat.”