A Late Summer Bloom

by Cherrie Mack

  Desiree laughed watching Paulette march her way out from behind the bar, only to be stopped by Louie. He tried to plant a kiss on his wife’s mouth, and Desiree watched her struggle, then surrender. She nodded her head. Yep. That Pauli is one lucky woman.

  As she sipped her drink, Desiree savored the taste of the sweet juices combined with the sting of the alcohol. Knowing she was making a bad habit of drinking every night, it somehow gave her comfort. She placed the drink on the bar and was startled by a familiar voice behind her.

  “Howdy, miss? How you been?”

  She blinked in surprise, slapping her hand on the bar with a loud thud. She snapped her fingers. “Hey, you’re Colt right?”

  “Yes Ma’am.”

  “Hey, Louie, bring my friend Colt here a drink. So? Where is your harem tonight?”

  Laughing, he answered. “They all went back to the motel. We’re part of a sightseeing tour. Our bus will be leaving day after tomorrow.”

  Louie opened the top of a beer and placed it on the bar.

  Colt picked up his beer. “Much obliged, Ma’am.” He picked up her drink and handed it her.

  She smiled. “Well, it’s nice to see you again. Cheers.” They clicked their drinks. Desiree took a big swallow. So much for nursing my drink.

  After a few minutes of chatter about the sights Colt visited in the city, Desiree’s vision became distorted. When she stepped off of the bar stool, her knees buckled. Colt grabbed her by the arm. “You okay?”

  Pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index fingers, she closed her eyes. “I—I’m fine. I think I need to go home. It was nice seeing you again, Colt. Have a safe trip home.”

  “Let me see you home, Miss Desiree. You don’t look so good.”

  Colt had her by the elbow as he guided her out of the bar. Tripping over her own feet, she giggled, “I just might be drunk.”

  “I’d say so, ma’am. Three hurricanes each night must have added up.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  Desiree shook her head, desperate to clear her mind. Something wasn’t right. She hated this feeling. When Colt guided her down an alley, she stopped. Her feet felt like they were caught in sludge as her eyelids grew heavy. “Where are you taking me?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. I just think you need a breather. It must have been the shots you mixed in between the hurricanes.”

  As if she were struck over the head, Desiree lifted her eyes to meet his deceitful smile, “That. Was. Last. Night.”

  “Well, I guess I done got caught, huh?”

  “What have you done? Who are you?”

  “I’m sorry, miss.” Colt tipped his hat to her. “They said they wouldn’t hurt you, just needed to ask a few questions.”

  “And you believed them? You don’t know anything. Don’t leave me here. Please.”

  “I had no choice, Ma’am. I’m not a valiant cowboy who can ride you off into the sunset. I know what they are. And I don’t know how to beat them.”

  “You know? How? Are you witch or warlock?”

  “Huh?”

  “Forget it. Colt, you must lead me out of this alley. I can’t seem to be able to—”

  And then the blackness came.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Giselle lay in Julien’s arms, running her hands all over his body, committing him to memory. His eyes were closed, but he wore a slight smile. When she spotted a small tattoo on his left bicep, she looked closer, tracing it with her fingertip. It was old, faded.

  “I got that when I was twelve.” He said, without opening his eyes.

  She looked up at him. “Twelve? I think that’s rather young, even for a witch. Why would you do such a thing?”

  “I couldn’t say. I felt compelled to do it, and once it was done, I never thought of it again.”

  A chill ran through her as she looked closely at the little— “Is that a flower?”

  Julien opened his eyes and craned his neck in the direction of his tattoo. “Yes. I’m surprised you can tell. I call it my ink blot because it usually resembles a blob of some sort. It’s called Angelonia, a specific flower favored in the Bayou. I can’t explain why, but it looks more detailed than it’s ever looked before. Maybe when you healed me?”

  She furrowed her brow. “Maybe. But there is no color and it’s still quite hard to see.”

  “When I first got it, it was brilliant, full of color and detail. It almost looked like it could jump off my arm and plant itself into the ground. But over time it faded to nothingness.”

  “Hmm. Does it bother you?”

  “No. Never has.”

  “Where did you get it?”

  “In New Orleans. I was with my father.”

  “And you, at twelve years old said—I’ll be right back daddy, I need to go get a tattoo? Who would brand a child with a tattoo?” Giselle giggled.

  “A woman named Lena, that’s who. I’ll never forget her, she was beautiful. My intention in the shop was to look. I was curious.”

  Giselle swallowed hard. “So what happened?”

  “Well, there was the most beautiful little girl there, she was about two years old. Her hair was as black as a raven, and her eyes were as big as saucers. She was fascinated by me, followed me around the shop, pointing to my arm. At some point, she said “Angelonia.” Now, here’s the weird thing, when she said it, the entire shop, everyone inside, stopped what they were doing and became silent. They said it was her very first word.”

  As realization hit, she leaned up on her elbow and stared at him. “Then. What. Happened?”

  Julien shrugged. “I felt compelled to mark my skin with the symbol. And when I left, I could hear her that kid screaming and crying. It was one of the worst feelings I ever had.”

  Giselle felt the blood drain from her face. She sat up. Searching his eyes, she offered him a slight smile. “Julien, I don’t know how to say this but—that little girl was me.”

  He sat up, draping his arms over his legs, he looked at her. “You serious?”

  “Uh huh. And Lena is Lena Mercier. Desiree’s sister.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m completely sure, she’s a tattoo artist. One of the best.”

  “So, you were the little girl?”

  “I remember the story of when I said my first word. I’m telling you, I was the little girl.”

  She looked into his eyes. Reaching out she ran her finger over his bottom lip and smiled. “I think we were meant to be.”

  He cast his eyes away.

  She felt his hesitation and sadness when she looked at him.

  He gave her a slight smile. “Little Witch, you’ve got that look in your eye.”

  “What can I say? You have me under your spell, Mr. Beaumont.”

  He wrapped his arms around her. “And you must submit to my every whim.”

  “Before I submit to your whim, I’d like you to explain what happened when we were attacked. From what I remember, I thought we were done for.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair. “Honestly, I did, too. When I was in the form of the stallion, I mostly remember you chanting. I also knew you were getting weak because of it. I leaned down and let you dismount. While I shifted, I heard them coming. I threw my body in front of you and began to fight them with everything I had, but there were at least fifteen.”

  “Fifteen?”

  “At least. You took care of them.”

  “How?”

  “You destroyed them.”

  “I—I what? Me? Giselle Jareau?”

  “Yeah.” He chuckled. “And your army.”

  “Army? What?”

  “Okay—okay. Every single tree in the woods has hundreds of roots, right?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “You somehow conjured these tree roots up from the ground. The roots literally broke through the earth to heed your call for help. You were like a great general commanding a battle. It was unbelievable.”

  Giselle bit her botto
m lip, struggling to understand. “Why can’t I remember?”

  “I don’t know. But Giselle, the mist of freedom was the second best sight of the battle.”

  “What is the mist of freedom?”

  “When a warlock dies, the souls they once devoured are released. They fly up through the air, one after the other, toward the heavens. There were hundreds, Giselle. They lit up the sky like a lovers moon, bathing the clouds in their orange glow. It was truly miraculous.”

  “I have seen that before. I never knew what it was called. I wish I could remember. You said it was the second most beautiful sight, what was the first?”

  He tipped up her chin, “You. You were surrounded by blue flames that danced at your feet, moving with you, following your graceful movements. The fire did your bidding. I knew I had just witnessed one of the greatest powers of our time. A royalty unbeknownst to the world, but the world is in your debt. You are the light, Little Witch.”

  Giselle blinked. She remembered nothing. Not a thing.

  Leaning over, Julien placed a hasty kiss on her lips and grabbed her by the hand. “Come. There is something I want to show you. The moon will be full tonight, and there is a place, a special place, I want to take you.”

  “How are we going to get there? Is there another car or motorcycle here someplace?”

  “This is a holy cavern, Giselle, there’s no parking garage on the top level.”

  “Oh.” Feeling silly, she mused. “Are you going to shift into a giant bird or something?”

  “I can’t manipulate size. I can only shift into an exact copy of another living thing.”

  She giggled. “I see. May I ask how we are going to get to this place?”

  Grabbing her hand, he pulled her along. “We will walk. Hand in hand. Because tonight, I will not let you go.”

  “I like the way you think.” It left her wondering why he said tonight. Dispelling it from her mind, she held his hand tight as they walked out into the night.

  The night was perfectly clear. The air felt warm when it gently caressed her skin. After leaving the cavern, Giselle saw every living thing in the forest with fresh eyes. Her sight was sharp, flawless. Seeing the world with a whole new perspective, Giselle would march into the future without trepidation. Holding Julien’s hand, she felt unstoppable. But what if he let go? Would she still feel the same way?

  As they walked, Julien talked about the importance of her gifts. “We know you have the capacity to control the water, the trees, you can command the insects and now we can add fire to the list. I also believe you can control all the elements. Wind, rain, hail, snow. There are many things you need to discover. We will practice as we travel to Cottonwood Landing and—”

  She pulled him to a stop. “Julien. I need to discover more than my gifts.”

  “Didn’t we take care of that back at the cavern?” He wiggled his brow.

  “Not just sex. Which I love, by the way. Because I love you.And I know you love me, too. You said so.”

  “I do. I never thought it would happen, but I feel it. Just like Simon said I would.”

  “Simon, huh?”

  He laughed, pulling her to him. He glanced up at the sky. “Come on, I want us to get there on time. It’s not that far.”

  She followed along, while his statement from earlier nagged at her.

  After a short walk, Julien took her hands in his. “Beyond this brush is something incredible. I want you to know how I see you, how you have made me feel since meeting you.”

  He pulled her through the brush where they came to rest in a dark meadow. Its carved out circle was surrounded by vegetation, but she noticed nothing special. He pulled her back against his chest and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Give it a minute.”

  “Give what a minute? Why are we here?”

  “Shh. You’ll see.”

  After some time, the moon shone its light directly into the meadow. All at once, hundreds of night blooming cactus began to open. Giselle was surrounded by beautiful blooms, each bud opening its glorious petals in a display of devotion for its creator, the moon.

  Holding her closer still, Julien’s mouth nuzzled her neck. “This is not our magic, but the magic of nature. These flowers bloom only once, with the aid of the full moon. Tomorrow they will be gone, but right now they are opening up, allowing us to gaze at their beauty and immerse ourselves in their fragrance. It is how I see you, Little Witch. You have blossomed into greatness. And it is the only way to describe what you have done to my heart.”

  Giselle blinked away the sweet sting of joyful tears. Then realization dawned, her eyes widened. She pushed out of his arms, spinning around to face him. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

  “What?”

  “Your heart. You’re heart opened to me, like the flowers paying homage to the moon, but then they die. They shrivel away after one great big burst. Are you afraid the same thing will happen to your heart?”

  She saw the tears well in his eyes. He remained silent. Grabbing her by the waist, he pulled her close. “Yes. I am very afraid.”

  Giselle held him close. “Is this what you meant when you said tonight you wouldn’t let me go? You think your love for me is temporary?”

  Julien let out a long sigh. “You are a queen. A royal. I’m just being realistic.”

  “So you’re saying after all this, you’ll leave me once we arrive in Cottonwood Landing?”

  “I must complete my assignment and find Judias, the warlock who holds my sister’s soul. I must free her.”

  “I understand. I will go with you.”

  “No. That’s impossible. I cannot hunt and worry about you at the same time. The royals will want you to stay in Cottonwood Landing. As you should. It is your rightful place. The covens have been waiting a century for a true queen.”

  She stood up on her feet. “So you think I should let them lock me up like some exotic bird in a gilded cage? Don’t I deserve a life? Happiness? Love?”

  “Of course, you do. But is it with me? Do you think you should play with fate?”

  “I—hang on a second. Do you think I cast a spell over you to love me? Witches can’t do that.”

  “Not an ordinary witch,” he murmured.

  “What? Only the fates have that power.”

  “I’m not angry, Giselle. I am grateful that you have made me feel—something. I lived with emptiness for so long.”

  “You— You—” She grasped Julien’s arm when a vision took hold. Giselle let out a blood curdling scream.

  Julien caught her in his arms just as she sunk to her knees.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Desiree woke with a splintering headache. Reaching up, she pressed her fingers to her temples. It was dark and damp, and the cold made her shiver. Assuming she was in some sort of underground bunker, she slowly sat up, glancing at the small filter of light beaming down from above. Trying to get comfortable, she conjured a spell to give her warmth and light, but nothing happened. Great! I'm stuck in a ditch wired with spell repellent. What the hell happened? Where was she, and for how long? Nausea set in, recalling the fight in the alley. Did Colt help her? Obviously not. Merde! I’m in big trouble.

  A loud crash made her jump as a body was hurled down into the trench. She looked over toward the newest arrival and sneered. “Well, well, well. Look what just fell down my rabbit hole. A rat in steer’s clothing.”

  Moaning, Colt rubbed his head, then scooted over to her. “You have every right to be upset with me, Ma’am.”

  “Oh, just stop your polite southern gentleman routine with me. You had me marked at the cemetery. What the hell? Who are you?”

  “I didn’t have you marked at the cemetery. I felt bad for you. Ya know, crying and all? After that, it’s all just sorta blurry. I knew to stay away, but I ignored my instinct.”

  Desiree narrowed her eyes at him. “Your instinct, huh?” She gave him a sideways look. “Colt is it? What kind of name is Colt?”

  “Colton Wacumin ma’a
m. Texas born and raised.”

  Surprised by his surname, Desiree questioned him. “Wacumin? Texas, huh? Tell me Colton, do you have a birthmark anywhere?”

  “No, Ma’am.”

  She watched him closely. “You seem rather nervous. Are you sure about the birthmark, because if my theory is correct, you have a small birthmark somewhere on your body resembling an eye.”

  She watched him swallow hard and shake his head no. Desiree moved closer to him. “You need not fear me, Colton, but I think you know that already. Wacumin is an old surname I am familiar with. You have another eye, don’t you? You can see what others cannot?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You’re beginning to piss me off, and you won’t like me when I’m pissed.”

  As she waited for him to give in, she quickly decided the situation was dire enough to give it to him straight. Huffing at his stubbornness, she snapped at him. “Look, Colt. I’m about to tell you something that is gonna freak you out. You might think I’m crazy, but that’s the chance I’ll have to take.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “There is a war brewing up there.” She pointed up through the opening of earth above their heads. “Witches and warlocks are about to do battle. The outcome will determine whether or not the human race eventually becomes enslaved. Now, the details will take too much time, and that’s something we might be running out of, but if you are honest with me, we can help each other.”

  Colt was quiet. Desiree covered her face with her hands, feeling desperate. Simon was on her mind. She would most likely never see him again. She should have apologized, she should—just then she heard Colt confess.

  “Yes Ma’am. I have the eye. It’s here, on my ankle.”

  Desiree looked up. Shock registered, watching him pull his pant leg up and point to a birthmark. It was the first time she ever saw one up close. Glad she was made to study her origins, she said, “Thank the Gods. Colton. You have the mark of a watcher.”

  Colt stared at his mark. When he spoke, he sounded far away, almost sullen. “A watcher?”