by LAURA HARNER
Miranda looked at him, apparently weighing his words, reading him. “So, you’re telling me that this is related to the Druid thing you told me about last night. I don’t know whether I believe that, but I know one person who can tell me. And I know just where to find her on St. John’s Eve.”
****
Marie went to the man tied spread-eagle on her bed. Although he had made some noise when she’d first arrived, he wasn’t fully conscious. He was well over six feet tall, broad across the shoulders, bronzed-skin, and sun-kissed light-brown hair. In repose, his features were strong, almost regal looking. He was dressed only in a pair of satin boxers, his clothes folded in a pile at the foot of the bed. He was magnificent, and precisely what she needed. God indeed provided.
Her fishing shack might not be much to look at on the outside, but it was quite private and very comfortable inside. With the windows open and the ceiling fan keeping the air circulating, it was cool on this hot afternoon. If the man got loud later, she could close the windows and run an air conditioner with the generator.
Marie hummed quietly to herself as she mixed the dark inky liquid henna. When she had it ready, she set two other vials near the bed along with a fine bristle paintbrush, needles, and a dagger. She lit several candles and got to work. She painted his chest with all the symbols and protective tattoos that would be necessary later. The henna would temporarily stain his skin, but she needed one symbol to remain permanently. She picked up the needle and finished her work.
The man began to stir, and Marie poured the content of one of the vials into his mouth, before he could come fully awake. He opened golden brown eyes and looked up at her, confusion evident.
“Good morning, Liam. How are you feeling?” Marie asked in her musical voice.
“Where am I? What happened?”
“Would you like to tell me why you’re in New Orleans?” Mentally, she gave him a little push.
“You have magick!” he said.
“Yes, and you are Druid, so perhaps we should dispense with the small talk. Why were you outside that hospital last night?”
The potion she’d given him took effect, and he began to talk. By the time he was finished, Marie had a much clearer picture of the things done to Gav over the last several months. The Etarlam had been relentless in their pursuit. She also realized that the Druid order knew nothing about that other secret Gav was hiding, even from her. The secret that would soon reclaim him.
She stood over the restrained man, and reviewed her plan and the reasoning that supported her decision to take him. She could easily make the case that she was justified in her actions because he had murder in his heart. His name was Liam, he’d said, and his father was the leader of a Druid sect. If she followed through with her plan, she would make a very powerful enemy.
She would have to be very careful to draw on his power without becoming a part of the darkness herself. This would change her world of magick.
Marie sat on the bed, very close to Liam, and began to trace her fingers along the lines she’d painted on his chest earlier. His breath hitched in his throat, his eyes heated under her touch.
“You must be verra powerful, woman. Are you a witch?”
“Some have called me that. I am the Voodoo Queen, Marie Gauthier. For the next forty-eight hours, until after the feast of St. John’s has passed, you belong to me. We will need to decide how to pass the time together.”
She noticed the tenting of the fabric of his boxers and smiled. Perhaps the second vial wouldn’t be necessary.
“Liam, I have an offer for you.”
Chapter Ten
Miranda left Gabhran with very explicit directions for what to do with the rest of his day. When they’d spoken this morning, she had been reserved, bordering on rude, and who could blame her? Her black eye was a painful reminder to him of just how badly things could go wrong, intentions be damned. If following her directions would help her, he would follow them to the letter.
He called Alfred and sent him on a few errands, then sat down at his kitchen table with a pad and pen. Miranda wanted him to write everything down that he’d learned during these last several months, then they would make a copy. She would keep one copy and he could put the other in his vault. Whenever, wherever his next life was, he would eventually be able to return to the vault, he was sure of it.
Miranda was back at the clinic continuing the investigation into Alysone’s disappearance. He wasn’t sure she believed him, but she hadn’t called him outright crazy. It seemed to count for something that he knew Marie, and that she had made him a gris-gris. On the other hand, the fact that Gabhran had stormed into the night, drunk and in a towering rage definitely raised her warning flags. And she knew of the darkness within him, had experienced it firsthand.
He was unable to tell her where he’d gone after he had left her, other than Congo Square in Armstrong Park. He’d sat on a bench and finished his bottle. After that, the night was a blur until he’d shown up on his own front porch after sunrise, still wearing only a pair of shorts and sandals. With blood on his hands.
He’d withheld that little detail from Miranda. He assumed he’d gotten in a fight somewhere along the way, since his knuckles were scraped up.
Christ, why can’t I remember? Why would I hurt Alysone? She was the only one who could understand my predicament. No, I wouldna have hurt her. There was no need to tell Miranda about the blood.
****
This day could hardly get any worse, Miranda thought. She’d had a hangover when she woke, then she’d caught a glimpse of the shiner Gabhran had given her. By the time the guys at the station had finished with her, she’d been in a foul mood. Oh, she’d realized he hadn’t meant to hit her. He was just trying to get lose from the hold she had on his shorts, but still, it was humiliating. The whole night was humiliating. She told the old standby lie about running into a door, and ignored the comments as best she could.
She’d been first detective up on the case board, so when the missing person call came in, she’d welcomed the distraction. She hurried off to the clinic, and was confronted with a story only a crazy person could tell. The missing woman was hospitalized because she had lost her memory and thought she was from another time and place. There didn’t seem to be any sign of a struggle, she wasn’t a suicide risk, and everyone said she was getting better. The clinic director had provided her with a list of the staff and volunteers, so she could begin questioning everyone. That’s when the shit hit her mental fan.
Miranda had been grateful to get a case so early in the morning, she’d needed a distraction. Now, instead of a distraction, she was forced to think about Gabhran and about last night. The story he’d told her this morning was outrageous. Just enough outrageous that there might be some truth to it. She was going to take him to the bayou to see Marie tonight. She would get to the bottom of his story and find out what happened to Alysone.
“We’re all finished with the room, Detective. I found one spot on the edge of the dresser that is positive for human blood. It’s small, but I think I got enough for a DNA match. If you get a suspect, you let me know, we can match type pretty easily. The finger prints are probably going to be no help, since just about every person who works here has been in that room in the last week.” The crime scene technician carried his equipment to the truck, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
****
They had been lucky to capture Liam, Marie thought. Even with his magick suspended by the potions she’d given him, he was a powerful man. No one was sure where he’d gone from the hospital courtyard, but true to form, he’d returned to his room just before dawn. The night concierge had gathered all the players before calling Liam’s room.
“Sir, this is Andre, down in the lobby. I saw that you just returned, and I’d like to send a little treat to your room, on the house. If you like the sample I send, you may order more at any time by calling room service and asking for me. If it’s not to your liking, you might consider ordering som
ething more suited to your particular taste. I have a varied menu.” He’d hung up before Liam had had a chance to reply. Andre wouldn’t have worried, he’d known what type of appetite Liam had.
She could picture the scene, now. When Liam opened the door, he would have found a beautiful woman wearing a long black satin cape, black thigh high boots, and a leather bustier. He’d have no doubt immediately invited her in. She’d have glided into the room carrying a bottle of champagne, two glasses, and a lot of attitude.
An hour later, they’d received word that Liam was unconscious, and the rest of Andre’s crew had gone to work. All record of him staying at their hotel was removed. Should Marie want to get rid of him, he would disappear without a trace.
Now he was hers for the next two days, and oh, they looked to be very enjoyable days. And nights.
Liam had briefly tested his bonds and his magick, but had acquiesced rather quickly when he’d realized it was futile to resist. Marie had made him her offer, and then left him alone for more than an hour to think over what she’d wanted. Now she was back, and dressed in nothing but a filmy white caftan that covered her completely, yet revealed everything.
It was late afternoon, and the ceremonies would soon begin around New Orleans. She lit the candles while Liam watched, still tied face up on the bed. She approached him, gazing into his eyes. He never looked away.
“What say you to my proposal, Liam? Will you cooperate?” She placed a finger over his lips to prevent his answer. Replacing her finger with her lips, she kissed him gently. He opened his mouth greedily, seeking more from her kiss, thrusting his tongue between her lips, making a growl low in his throat that she felt deep in her belly.
She scraped her nails against his scalp and pulled his hair to bring his head forward kissing him harder. Their tongues battled, he tried to pull hers deeper into his mouth, then he pushed hard against her lips, to force his way inside. He began to thrust his tongue, in and out, blatantly imitating sex, while she sucked on his tongue, holding it before releasing it.
When she finally pulled away from the kiss, her lips felt swollen and his gaze was hot with desire. He strained against his restraints, arched his back, and pushed his hips up, drawing her attention to his impressive erection. Marie reached to untie one of his wrists.
“Leave it,” he growled. “Take what you want.”
She did.
****
Randi knocked on his backdoor, dressed all in white, knowing she looked washout and tired. Gabhran offered her a drink, and she took the ice-cold ale gratefully.
“Can we talk, lass? About last night?”
“No we can’t talk about last night, unless you have something to confess,” she snapped. “And, if you do, could you give me a head’s up, so I can read you your rights first. Otherwise, we have work to do. Alysone is still missing, in case you forgot.
He winced. “Nay, lass, I didna forget.” He paused for a moment looking down at himself. “Are you sure I have to wear this?” He pointed to his own white cotton shirt and pants and made a face.
Randi laughed at his woeful expression. “Buck up, Doc, this way you won’t stand out, everyone’ll be dressed in white.” She felt him relax at her tone, and struggled for stern. “Not so fast. You are not forgiven, and you’re still a person of interest in Alysone’s disappearance.”
She quickly turned her back, not wanting to see how he took that news. “Let’s go.” She led the way through the courtyard to the garage under her apartment and wheeled out a motorcycle. She tossed a helmet at Gabhran, and tucked her hair into her own helmet. She straddled the bike, looked over her shoulder, and said, “Get on.”
He climbed on behind her, touched her lightly, as if unsure of where to put his hands. Randi was glad he couldn’t see the grin on her face. She took off fast, so he was forced to grab her around the waist to keep from falling off, and she roared into the night.
She wasn’t sure if Marie would be at one of the lesser ceremonies early in the evening, but she would definitely be at the fishing shack later, so they had time to grab a burger on the way. While they ate, Randi told Gabhran stories of St. John’s Eve and Marie.
“I doona understand how you know Marie,” he said.
“Oh we’re second cousins, twice removed and over easy, or something like that.” She laughed easily. “It’s a big family, and we get confused about how we’re all related, so we all just say we’re cousins. It’s easier that way.”
Back on the bike, they headed to the bayou. Randi parked next to the lean-to and grabbed a pirogue, a shallow, to drag down to the water.
“Get in, I’ll drive.” She laughed.
The moon was rising as they glided through the water, the bayou was alive with the sounds of the early evening. She confidently navigated the dark waterway, enjoying the expression of pleasure on Gav’s face as he looked at the watery cypress forest.
“Cooeee,” she called out as they approached a dilapidated looking shack surrounded by a large deck and raised from the water on stilts. Another small boat was tied near a ladder that extended from the water to the deck.
Marie stepped through the doorway, and answered Randi’s call.
“Hey, cuz, what’re you doing out here tonight, did you come for St. John’s? No one is here yet, but they will be soon. You want to set on the porch awhile?”
Marie stepped back inside, while Randi tied off the boat and they climbed the ladder. They pulled lawn chairs from the storage closet and set them around the deck. Randi heard Marie whispering and a deep rumble in return. She raised an eyebrow at Gabhran.
“Looks as though your cousin has company.”
“She’ll have a lot of company as soon as the other ceremonies are over. The final event of the night always takes place here. We probably won’t be invited to stay.”
Marie stepped out, carrying candles and corn meal. “So, you found my cousin, Druid.”
“Aye, she is my neighbor. Come to think of it, you already knew she was my neighbor, since it was your grandda who took me to that house to begin with.”
Smiling serenely, Marie continued to set things around the deck, then walked over to Gabhran and took his face in her hands. She said nothing for so long that Gabhran began to look uncomfortable. With a deep sigh, she pulled him down to whisper in his ear, before kissing his cheek and turning to Randi.
“You can believe his story, my sweet. Now, Druid, go to the boat, I must speak with my cousin alone.”
Gabhran looked a question to Randi, who nodded, so down the ladder he went, to wait in the boat.
When Randi joined him several minutes later, she was quiet, her feelings tightly under control. She could sense that it made Gabhran nervous; he probably wanted the smiling Randi back, but she wasn’t feeling very happy at the moment. She didn’t object when he put his hands around her waist and pulled tight against her for the ride back to the house. There was comfort for both of them in their closeness.
Chapter Eleven
Liam sat on the hard wooden chair and watched Marie gather her supplies for the ritual; he was taut with desire, anxious for the ceremony to begin. He was dressed in a pair of white drawstring cotton pants and naught more, his chest and abdomen were a complex pattern of symbols that disappeared below his waistband. The ritual they would perform tonight had been successful only once before, nearly a hundred years ago, and the spiritual leaders of Voodoo were counting on Marie to be able to perform it again. His magick was in stasis, not accessible to him. Whatever spells this woman had placed on him kept him tightly controlled and subject to her every demand. And she made many demands. Earlier, when she started to untie him, he’d stopped her with a word. He wanted to lose control, to be at her mercy. He knew she could kill him with a spell or potion and none would ever know. It was exhilarating.
They had been at it for hours. She had given him a potion that prevented his climax without diminishing his abilities or desire. When he’d told her to take what she wanted, she’d given a slo
w, feral smile, then her clever mouth had tasted, licked, and kissed every part of him. He bucked his hips, cried out with frustrated desire, and made demands of his own. Marie just laughed and continued to seek her own pleasure.
When she straddled his hips to lower her nipple into his mouth, he’d sucked it so hard he drew a cry of pain from her that quickly turned to moans of pleasure. When he’d nipped her in a particularly sensitive spot in his frustration, he’d earned swift retribution that he was helpless to avoid or escape. Marie had been satisfied many times and in many ways, yet his own release remained elusive. All he could do was serve at her pleasure.
She had promised his release would come with the letting of the blood, and that it would have the blessed strength of the spirits. He was more than ready. He had no fear for his safety; he knew she was using his power to supplement hers, to strengthen the magick that had been decimated by a force of nature. How fitting his own magick would help to restore magick weakened by a hurricane so close in name to his own mother, Katerina.
A woman called out from a boat on the bayou. Even without his magick he sensed an enormous force of power. Gabhran was outside the shack. Marie told him to wait inside while she went out to talk to the new arrivals. He wondered what game the Voodoo Queen was playing?
How ironic it was that he’d spent months tracking Gav in order to bring him completely under the spell of darkness. Now the man was here, and Liam prepared himself for battle. He wouldn’t kill him unless it was absolutely necessary—but the woman with him could easily go. It would be all the push Gav needed. He had waited behind the door, but Marie had sent Gav away, and spoke not of the encounter, so he kept his own counsel.
As the others arrived and drums began to pound, rhythmically, calling to a primitive part of his soul, he knew the ceremony was about to begin. Marie came and got him and led him to the center of a ring of people. A large bonfire appeared to burn on top of the water nearby, and candles lined the deck railing. Marie began the ritual prayers and invocations; a man stepped forward and draped a large snake across her shoulders. The snake hissed, eerily holding its head up, while it sinuously twined around her. Her body glistened beneath the sheer white fabric, and Liam was rock hard with suppressed desire.
