She’d had unprotected sex with a man she had just met. That, of course, after nearly drowning in the tub and being rescued by that very same man. Even worse, she couldn’t recall a single detail about the sex.
More tears surfaced, only to be replaced by more of the uncontrollable laughter of a hysterical female.
Charlie was dying, drowning in a sea of sickness her body couldn’t hope to fight. Yet, there she sat, wishing against all odds that she had more time. More time to live, to laugh…to love.
But she couldn’t love, not without a miracle at any rate. She wiped the back of her hands across her eyes and took a shaky breath. She could remain on the floor feeling sorry for herself the rest of the day, or she could get up, get dressed, and go in search of Celia Battiste.
Charlie pushed to her feet, and stumbled next door to the bathroom. She reached inside the tub and turned on the water before stripping out of her shirt and panties. She had a Voodoo priestess to find, and sitting around wallowing in self-pity wasn’t getting her anywhere.
***
The small community known as Shell Beach was abuzz with news of an incoming storm when Charlie entered Rhett’s Country Kitchen. She scanned the dining area of the small restaurant, locating an empty table amidst the murmuring crowd of people.
A tall, redhaired woman sashayed over, chewing on a piece of gum with the gusto of a hungry rabbit. “Take a seat. I’ll get this table cleaned off for ya.”
Charlie pulled out a chair, noticing that a few of the patrons had stopped talking and were now watching her every move.
She sent them a hesitant smile before lowering herself to the chair.
The redhead returned carrying an empty cup and a coffee pot. “You look like you could use a cup.”
Charlie knew exactly how she appeared. She’d noticed the dark circles beneath her eyes and the paleness of her face. A headache had been slowly forming for the past hour, but Charlie had refused to take a pain pill. She needed to be lucid in order to drive.
She glanced at the waitress’s name tag. “Thank you, Trish. I could definitely use some coffee.”
“What can I get ya to eat this mornin?” Trish filled the cup with coffee, set the pot down on the table, and plucked an order pad and pen from her apron.
Though Charlie’s stomach felt like it was clawing her backbone, she had very little appetite. But she needed food if she were going to fight the headache threatening to arrive. “I’ll have scrambled eggs and wheat toast.”
“No meat?” Trish’s gaze swept over Charlie’s too-thin form. “Clyde makes the best bacon in the South.”
Charlie knew all too well what bacon grease did to a body. She opened her mouth to decline, but decided against it. If the Voodoo priestess couldn’t help her, she only had a few months left to live. And she’d be damned if she would spend that time denying herself something as tasty as bacon.
She sent the waitress a lopsided smile. “You talked me into it.”
Trish grinned back. “I’ll fix you right up.”
“Wait.” Charlie rested her hand on Trish’s arm as the waitress started to move away. “Have you ever heard of a woman named Celia Battiste?”
Something flickered in Trish’s eyes before smoothing out into a blank look. “Can’t say as I have. I’ll just get this order put in for ya.” She turned on her heel and hurried off.
Charlie noticed more than a few of the restaurant’s patrons had stopped speaking and were now watching her in suspicion. She cleared her throat, giving her attention to the table of four seated next to her. “Can you tell me where I can find Celia Battiste?”
The small group of patrons shook their heads, lowering their gazes to the plates in front of them.
“Turn that TV up,” someone called out.
An elderly man sitting close to the front, picked up a remote control and lifted it toward the television hanging on the wall.
Charlie watched along with everyone else. The impending tropical storm predicted to hit New Orleans would arrive on land before noon. Hell, Charlie hadn’t even known they were under a weather advisory. Though New Orleans was a good forty miles from where she sat, Shell Beach would still get some strong winds and possible tornadoes. She needed to eat and find Celia Battiste before that storm hit.
Trish showed up with Charlie’s food and set the plate down in front of her. “If you need anything else, just give me a shout.”
Charlie thanked her, snatched up a piece of bacon and popped it in her mouth. The salty tasting pork burst across her tongue, her eyes closing in pleasure.
“Would you like more coffee, Ma’am?”
Opening her eyes, Charlie looked up into the face of a pretty, young girl with mocha-colored skin and dark brown eyes. Her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, accenting her lovely face.
Charlie glanced at her still full cup. “I’m good, thank you.”
The young girl continued to stare at her for long moments before dropping a small piece of paper onto the table and scurrying away.
Charlie watched her go until she disappeared into the kitchen. What the hell was that all about?
With as much nonchalance as she could feign, Charlie took a sip of her coffee and then swiped up the scrap of paper.
She held it between her chest and her plate, carefully unfolded it and read the message inside. Meet me behind the restaurant in five minutes. I’ll tell you what you want to know.
Refolding the note with trembling fingers, Charlie pulled a twenty-dollar bill from her jeans pocket, laid it next to her plate, and pushed to her feet. She plucked up a piece of that delicious bacon and rushed out the door.
Chapter Ten
Kash paced his large kitchen like a caged animal. He figured in a sense, that’s exactly what he was; part animal, doomed to a life of solitude and endless nightmares.
He’d heard about the wounds found on Darcey’s body, the stripper he had shared his bed with for a while. No animal could have made those kinds of marks. Unless, of course, Kash had been responsible for them.
Kash thought about the mornings he’d returned home to find blood on his hands…and no memory of how it got there.
“You didn’t kill that stripper.” Mauve’s softly spoken accusation caught Kash off guard. He hadn’t heard her enter the room.
Turning to face the woman who raised him, Kash murmured, “Someone sure did.”
“Well, I can assure you that it wasn’t you. You also didn’t take care of this new one.”
“I don’t think Charlie’s a threat to us, Mauve. She’s a tiny, slip of a girl who couldn’t kill a gnat with an entire can of Raid. She’s completely helpless. There’s no way she could hurt either of us.”
Mauve’s knowing gaze lifted to Kash’s face. “No, but Celia can.”
“Charlie isn’t Celia,” Kash growled before softening his tone. “There has to be another way.”
“You have lain with her.” It wasn’t a question.
Kash turned to pour himself a cup of coffee, images of Charlie grinding herself against him rushing to the surface. Yeah, he’d lain with her alright; but he wasn’t entirely sure if she would remember it. He would, though. Man, would he ever.
He ignored Mauve’s statement about him sleeping with Charlie. “I have some things to do this morning to get ready for the incoming storm. I’d prefer that you stay here until it passes.”
Mauve continued to stand there, her eyes narrowed in his direction. “You will obey me in this. Your life may very well depend on it. Both of our lives.”
Heat rushed to Kash’s eyes, but he fought it back. “What if I can guarantee that she won’t be a threat?”
The elder woman didn’t speak. She simply waited; nothing moving save for the rise and fall of her chest.
Kash set his coffee cup down. “I’ll bring her here.”
That triggered a response; not a drastic one, but she did raise an eyebrow. “You plan on abducting her? Then what? She would not be allowed to leave. Ever. Y
ou either imprison her or you kill her. Those are your only choices.”
Kash knew that Mauve spoke the truth. As distasteful as it sounded, she was right. If he did nothing, and Mauve suffered for it, he would never forgive himself. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to hurt Charlie, let alone kill her. “I’ll take care of it.”
“I do not relish harming the girl either, Kash. But I will before I allow her to bring about your death. You are all that I have left in this world, and I will not lose you.”
His gaze softening, Kash blew out a resigned breath. “You won’t lose me, Mauve. I’ll take care of Charlie.”
“What an odd name for a female.” Mauve shuffled over and motioned for Kash to give her his face.
He bent his knees, lowering himself to her level.
She placed a kiss on his cheek. “I trust you will do what is right.”
Kash watched her walk away, her frail body hunched over with age. He gripped the back of his neck, attempting to massage the tension that had been present since meeting Charlie.
After a quick shower and another cup of coffee, Kash boarded his boat and struck out for the Bickford house. He would do what needed to be done and worry about the consequences later.
***
Kash stopped his boat in front of Charlie’s place, tied it off, and stepped onto the dock. He could smell her sweet scent long before he reached the porch. His body stirred to life.
How the hell could she have such an effect on him? It wasn’t as if she were the most beautiful woman he’d ever been with. Not that she wasn’t attractive; on the contrary. In fact, Kash found her quite mesmerizing…especially her pale, blue eyes. And of course, there was her intoxicating scent, her soft, pink lips and her tight, wet…
Kash shook off his thoughts, more than a little stunned to find himself erect. Damn her.
He adjusted himself to a more comfortable position, opened the screen door, and stepped onto her porch.
“Charlie?” He tapped his knuckles on the wooden door, fighting his body’s reaction to the incredibly intoxicating fragrance seeping from inside the house.
Had Kash been simply a man, he might not have noticed the scent, but the beast in him was all over that shit.
When no answer came, Kash knocked again and then tried the knob. The door opened with ease. “Charlie?”
Silence.
He stepped inside, softly closing the door behind him.
Kash breathed through his mouth in an attempt to block out the invasion of her essence. He’d never smelled anything as incredible as Charlie.
Making his way through to the kitchen, Kash checked the nearest window to find Charlie’s car gone. He trailed off through the living room and into her bedroom.
The blanket Kash had covered her with the night before lay half on the floor as if she’d rolled from bed without bothering to untangle herself from it first.
He crept closer, noticing the shirt she’d had on last night, wrinkled and wadded up on the bed. He could no more stop himself from plucking it up than he could turn around and walk away.
Kash’s fingers brushed against the soft material, once, twice… He snatched it up and brought it to his nose.
The erection he’d had since stepping on that dock now throbbed to the beat of his heart. His eyes slid shut as memories of their recent love making assailed him.
Love making? his mind whispered, mocking him with the truth. They hadn’t made love. Kash had rutted with her like an animal, taking advantage of her weakened state. Though, in his defense, he hadn’t known she was drugged.
He tossed the shirt back onto the bed and left the room. He needed to find Charlie before Celia got her hands on her.
What could the Voodoo priestess want with a stranger from California? Had she put some sort of dark magic on Charlie to lure Kash in? But for what purpose? Charlie wasn’t strong enough to kill him. But Mauve was another story altogether. At Mauve’s age, she would be much easier to destroy.
Kash stormed out the front door, noticing the winds had begun to pick up. He pulled off his shirt and boots, tossed them behind a nearby shrub, and allowed his beast to take control.
Chapter Eleven
Charlie waited behind the small restaurant for ten minutes before deciding she’d been stood up. The dark-haired girl who had handed her the note was a no show.
With a sigh of frustration, Charlie shielded her eyes against the rapidly increasing winds and turned to leave.
The backdoor to the building abruptly opened and the young girl stepped out.
Charlie blew out a relieved breath, her hair slapping against her squinted eyes. “I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind.”
Glancing nervously behind her, the girl inched closer to Charlie. “Let’s go before we’re seen.”
“Seen by whom? What are you afraid of?”
“I’ll tell you on the way.”
Charlie nodded, and strode to her SUV parked out front. She unlocked the doors and slid behind the wheel, thankful to be out of the gusting winds.
The young girl hopped in the passenger side and shut the door. “Take a left at the corner up there.”
After starting the engine, Charlie put on her seatbelt and backed out of the parking lot. “My name’s Charlie.”
“I’m Trudy,” the girl answered, glancing over her shoulder as if expecting to be followed.
Charlie stopped at the intersection and took a left. “Thank you for helping me.”
“You might not be thanking me after this is over.”
Swallowing back the spark of unease that ignited inside her, Charlie glanced at Trudy’s profile. “Why are you helping me?”
“I have no choice.”
Charlie shifted her gaze back to the road. “There’s always a choice.”
“Not in this case,” Trudy whispered. “In about two miles, turn right onto Wren drive.”
Doing as Trudy instructed, Charlie gripped the wheel with palms that had gone clammy, her mind spinning with the implications of Trudy’s words. “Are you being forced to do this?”
When Trudy remained quiet, Charlie slowed the SUV to a crawl and pulled off the side of the road. “Talk to me.”
“I can’t. Please, just drive.”
Charlie shook her head. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.” Another gust of wind came through, rocking the small SUV’s frame.
Tears sprang to Trudy’s eyes. “Celia Battiste is a very powerful priestess. She holds the power to save a life or take one, depending on what’s in it for her.”
It was beginning to come together for Charlie. “Did she save your life?”
Trudy shook her head. “No, she healed my mama.”
“And in return?” Charlie whispered, knowing full well, Trudy’s next words.
“I bring her…” she met Charlie’s gaze, “you.”
The hair stood up on Charlie’s arms. “What does she want with me? I only just arrived a couple of days ago. Better yet, how does she even know I’m here?”
“Celia knows all.” Trudy rubbed her palms up and down her jean-clad legs. “She knew you were coming before you did.”
Charlie could only stare at Trudy in disbelief, yet the memory of Celia’s visit in her bathroom, strong in her mind. “How?”
“I don’t know, but if I don’t bring you to her, my mama will die.”
Charlie’s heart skipped a beat. “But how did you know I would show up at that restaurant?”
Trudy rested her head against the seat back. “I didn’t. I had planned on heading out to the Bickford house when I got off work. It was purely luck that you came in to eat this morning.”
“I’m not so sure luck had anything to do with it.” Putting the car in gear, Charlie checked her mirrors and pulled back onto the road. “We better hurry if we’re going to beat the storm.”
Trudy’s mouth dropped open. “You mean you’re still going after everything I just told you?”
Charlie thought about the cancer curren
tly eating away at her brain. “Like you, I don’t have a choice either.”
The faint sound of a howl reached the inside of the car. Charlie stiffened, recognizing the sound as the one she’d heard the night before.
“Rougarou,” Trudy breathed, terror practically dripping from her voice.
Charlie pressed her foot on the gas, wanting nothing more than to leave the area…and fast. Though her mind rebelled against the idea that werewolves truly existed, her heart wasn’t so sure. “There is no such thing as werewolves.”
“Just as there’s no way a three hundred-year-old woman lives in that swamp?” Trudy jerked her chin in the direction of the bayou. “There are things out here in the swamplands that cannot be explained; things that nightmares are made of. And if you make it out of here alive today, you’d be smart to leave and never look back.”
The howl came again, angry and louder than before.
Trudy turned in her seat, her palm planting on the window. “He’s getting closer. You have to hurry!”
Charlie punched the gas, speeding through the whipping winds that seemed to grow stronger by the second. And then the sky opened up and unloaded its wrath. Lightning popped and bands of rain obstructed Charlie’s view of the road. “How much further?”
“There will be a clay road about a half mile up on your right with a small wooden bridge. Be careful crossing it. It’s older than Celia.”
The headache Charlie had been fighting all morning had returned with a vengeance. She gritted her teeth against the pain as sweat beaded her upper lip. Everything inside her screamed for her to turn back, but the migraine splitting her head in half propelled her forward. As afraid as Charlie was, nothing scared her more than dying of cancer.
She’d be willing to face the Rougarou, the Voodoo priestess, and anything else the swamp could dish up if it meant that she could live.
She turned onto the clay road.
Chapter Twelve
Kash ran through the swamps, his reddened tunnel vision, sharp and precise. Charlie was on her way to the Voodoo queen’s; he could feel it in his gut.
Heroes Among Us: A Paranormal Romance Collection Page 14
