Demons of Bourbon Street

by Deanna Chase

  She cradled her now-whimpering child to her breast. “Don’t apologize. I wish I’d had the courage to tell him off. I’m sure part of the reason Katy is so upset is because that man was making me so mad. Babies sense these things.”

  Of course they did. People fed off other people’s surface emotions all the time. They were the lucky ones. I had the pleasure of being up close and personal with everything they were feeling. Blocking it was exhausting. However, there was something I could do to help. “Can I hold her?” I smiled at the bundle in her arms.

  “Um…” The mom glanced at her child and then tentatively held her out. The baby let out a wail she’d been barely holding back. “She’s really fussy with strangers.”

  “Couldn’t hurt to try.” I took the swaddled baby and held her against my shoulder. She continued to cry, sobbing in loud hiccups. Rubbing her back, I cooed softly in her ear. “It’s okay, sweetie. He’s gone.”

  My magical spark warmed inside my chest, but I pushed it down. There was no need to spell the child. She just needed some calming energy. It would be better to take it from someone else and transfer it.

  I could do it myself, but I still had issues with accidentally transferring my own essence. Not a good thing. If I gave too much away, I’d compromise my soul. Then blackness would take over, and I wouldn’t be trying to get to Hell to save Dan. I’d gleefully try to take everyone I knew to the underworld, for good.

  “Look at you,” a familiar male voice said.

  I glanced over to find Kane settling into the chair next to me. “Where’d you come from?”

  He smiled. “I used to occupy the seat next to the TSA agent. Leave it to you to cause a scene just so you could get our seats switched.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, that’s what happened.”

  Kane’s easy calm settled over me. I reached out and touched his leg, letting his energy collect at my fingertips. After a moment, I gently nudged the calm through my body from one hand to the other. The baby’s crying abruptly stopped and she laid her head on my shoulder, breathing steadily.

  “Oh my gosh. You did it,” the young mother whispered. She slumped back against the window and closed her eyes in relief.

  “Thanks,” I whispered to Kane.

  He turned tender eyes on me, and when he reached up and gently smoothed the baby’s pale blond hair, my heart melted.

  Chapter 4

  Kane pulled his Lexus to a stop in front of Lucien’s single shotgun home. Bright red hibiscus blooms filled the flower boxes, and ornate stenciled vines decorated the door and window shutters. The house to the right had vibrant stained glass fitted to each of the front windows, and the house on the left was adorned with a number of handmade, brushed aluminum wind chimes.

  The Bywater neighborhood, a few miles east of the French Quarter, housed a community of artists and witches alike. Lucien fit right in. He managed an art gallery and was the second most powerful witch in the New Orleans coven.

  I jumped out of the car and ran up the steps of the small porch. The door swung open seemingly on its own. I stopped in the darkened doorway, squinting as I waited for my eyes to adjust. All the shades had been drawn to block out the mid-afternoon sun.

  I took a tentative step. “Why is your living room impersonating a vampire lair?”

  “Luminarium.” Lucien’s voice sounded from deeper in the house. A soft light glowed to life through the archway of the next room. Shotgun homes don’t have hallways. Each room is situated right behind the other, separated only by partial walls or doors.

  With Kane and Kat on my heels, we made our way through the living room and straight into Lucien’s office. The light he’d conjured floated near the ceiling, no fixture in sight. Lucien sat at his desk, his jawline stubbled and his blond hair uncharacteristically unkempt.

  “Is Lailah okay? Where is she?” I asked.

  “Other than not knowing what she did for twelve hours, she’s fine. She’s working on a recovery potion in the kitchen.” He barely glanced in my direction before he turned back to the computer. “I’m researching a hunch.”

  I stopped behind him and peered over his shoulder. He’d typed ancient memory charms into the search field. “You think Philip spelled her?”

  “Philip who?” He finally swiveled, acknowledging us.

  “Philip Pearson. The angel I told you about. I saw him in my finding spell.”

  Lucien stared at me. “How can you be certain it was him? You’ve never met the guy.”

  “I’m sure.” I crossed my arms over my chest, daring him to argue with me.

  He took a deep breath. “Okay, but it would be better if you thought of that as a working theory for now.”

  Was he questioning my magic abilities?

  I opened my mouth to protest, but Kane put his hand on my arm. “He’s probably right. Until we verify his identity, we shouldn’t make assumptions.”

  I didn’t particularly like them ganging up on me. Who was in charge here?

  “I’m done,” a familiar female voice said from behind me.

  I spun, finding Lailah in the archway that led to the back of the house.

  “The potion’s ready,” she continued. “Jade? I could use your help.” She turned and disappeared into the room she’d come from.

  “Kat, can you fill Lucien in on what we learned from Izzy?” I asked.

  “Sure.” She sat perched on a wood-framed futon and crossed her legs.

  Kane leaned closer. “Do you want me to go with you?” he whispered.

  I shook my head. Absolutely not. Kane would only be a distraction for both of us. “Have a seat. I got this.”

  Before he could protest, I escaped into the next room. Then stopped dead in my tracks.

  It appeared one had to go through Lucien’s bedroom to get to the kitchen. To the left sat a wrought-iron queen-sized bed, covered by a gorgeous lilac comforter with delicate embroidered orange blossoms. On the nightstand sat a vase of fresh-cut daisies. A couple of bright 3-D, acrylic floral paintings brightened up the opposite wall. I moved, intending to join Lailah, but paused next to his open closet.

  I couldn’t help myself. As far as I knew, Lucien didn’t have a significant other. But the room was so…feminine. Was he hiding someone? A quick glance told me if he did, her clothes didn’t mingle with his. Only dress shirts and suits lined his closet.

  “Jade?” Lailah called.

  Oops! I glanced back toward the office. A low rumble of voices filtered through the doorway, and I prayed they hadn’t heard Lailah. Fearing someone might investigate, I scooted into the kitchen.

  “It’s about time. What were you doing?” She set a bowl of clear liquid on the table.

  I bit my lip, trying to turn my thoughts off.

  It didn’t work. Lailah started to laugh. “I know, right? His bedroom is unbelievable.”

  “Umm…”

  “With that décor, he’s going to have a hard time convincing a potential date he isn’t already attached.”

  No man I’d ever known would intentionally choose lilac. A woman most definitely had done his decorating. Maybe he does have a girlfriend.

  “He doesn’t,” Lailah said, taking the thought from my mind.

  “Stop that.” I sat at the table. “What do you need me to do?”

  Her face turned from curious and playful to dark and brooding. “Since the memory charm is for me, I can’t invoke it myself. It might backfire. All you need to do is repeat the incantation and infuse the potion with a drop of your blood.”

  “Blood?” I stood abruptly, knocking my chair over in the process. “No way. I’m not performing blood magic.”

  Her exasperation filled the kitchen, making me want to retreat through the back door.

  She sighed. “You’re not going to leave. I have answers you want. Just invoke the charm so we can get on with this.”

  “Stop reading my mind,” I demanded. “I don’t read yours.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  Okay, so
I did sometimes. But she wasn’t making any effort to stay out of my head.

  “I can’t help it. You keep projecting,” Lailah said.

  “Ugh! Is there any other way to retrieve your memory without involving my blood?”

  “No,” she said quietly. “None that I’m aware of.” Her entire demeanor changed to one of a frightened woman in need of help. Desperation clung to her aura. “Please, Jade. I need to recover my memories. I can’t go through this again.”

  Cripes. This was becoming a habit for her.

  Last week, while Lailah was assigned to save Dan’s soul, the demon Meri used the connection to form a tie with Lailah. Meri had then gone on to compel Lailah to poison Bea and seduce an unwilling Kane. A side effect of the compulsion was memory loss. Lailah had no recollection of any of her evil doings. Being faced with more forgotten hours must have scared the hell out of her.

  She eyed me. “Now will you do the blood spell?”

  My resistance cracked. Even though a shiver crawled up my spine, I shrugged. “Yeah, okay.” I slid into the heavy wooden chair and dragged the bowl in front of me.

  Lailah handed me a thick white candle. “Declare your intentions before you light it.”

  “I know.” Since Lailah was an angel, her magic allowed her to wield spells without following all the ritual steps. I couldn’t.

  Well, technically I could, but the results were usually disastrous. The last time I’d worked a spell on the fly, I’d ended up mentally connected to the very last person I wanted privy to my thoughts—Lailah.

  “Sorry. Just a reminder.” She sat back and closed her eyes. “By the way, reading your mind isn’t a picnic for me either.”

  “Stop talking about it,” I snapped. “If you can’t block me out, just pretend you can’t hear me.”

  She mumbled something that sounded like, “If only that were possible.”

  I didn’t say anything, demonstrating my point, but in my mind I shouted, See how that works? Try keeping your unwanted comments to yourself next time.

  She snorted.

  I turned my attention to the candle. “Goddess above, hear my words. When my blood falls, Lailah’s memories will be restored.” I plucked a match from the box and, with a slight nudge of my inner power, I willed it to light.

  A small flame appeared without so much as a spark.

  Satisfied, I lit the wick. “While this candle burns, let the flame be a symbol of protection. Guide my magic, let it do no harm, seek no harm, or cause any harm.”

  The flame brightened, growing tall and strong.

  “Good.” Lailah passed me a sheet of paper with a handwritten incantation. “Now say this and then add a drop of blood to the potion.”

  I grabbed the small ceremonial dagger lying next to the bowl and spoke the words. “From the purity of the white witch, let my blood be the sacrifice of stolen memories. Restore what was taken. Fill the void left in the angel Lailah. Let her mind be whole. With these words I pay the price.”

  I swiped the dagger across the fleshy pad of my thumb and winced. Blood pooled, oozing from the wound. Grimacing, I tilted my hand and let one lone drop drip into the bowl. My thumb throbbed, and I quickly bandaged it with a tissue. “Did the charm work?”

  Lailah groaned, laying her head down. “No. You must have done something wrong.”

  “Um, wrong? I did exactly what you told me to do. Maybe it was your potion.” I scooted forward and stared into the bowl. My blood droplet sat in a small bead on the top of the now-solidified liquid. Resisting the urge to use my finger to mix it, I picked up the bowl, rocking it back and forth until the thin film broke. My blood spread in spidery veins, weaving its way slowly through the liquid.

  Darkness swam at the edge of my vision. Damn it all. Not again! I would not pass out. Not this time. Since moving to New Orleans, I’d formed a bad habit of losing consciousness every time I got involved with something mystical.

  I sat and held my head in my hands. The blackness faded. But when I focused, I was no longer sitting in Lucien’s kitchen.

  Double damn. Here we go again.

  Sitting on the floor in the middle of a brightly colored living room, I reached forward, picking up a black candle, thought better of it, and replaced it with a white one. I imagined a lit wick, and the flame burst to life, illuminating a pink rug and red couches.

  Ready to finish the spell, I held my arms out. Surprise rippled through me. The hands attached to my arms weren’t mine. In fact, the arms weren’t mine, either.

  I mentally groaned.

  The short skirt paired with leggings and the belted blouse I wore meant one thing; the body I mentally inhabited was Lailah’s.

  Oh, for the love of…A man strode into the room, his eyes a very familiar shade of pale emerald green. When he spoke, I gasped. Though no one heard me, since I only existed in Lailah’s mind.

  He sounded exactly like Dan. He had to be Philip Pearson.

  Lailah sat, staring at him as if she’d been spelled into submission. And when Philip ordered her to stand, she did.

  “Angel of the Light, lead me to his last location,” Philip said, his voice commanding and cold.

  Lailah moved toward the door. When she brushed past him, he touched her lightly on the shoulder and whispered, “I know you’re in there, witch. Stay out of Lailah’s memories. Your magic doesn’t work here.”

  My world spun and my stomach lurched. I groped to clutch something. Anything to make the spinning stop. Abruptly, the chaos ended. I found myself back in Lucien’s kitchen, my fingernails clawing at the shiny table.

  I blinked and relaxed my fingers.

  Lailah stared at me, mouth open. “You…”

  “What?” I stiffened.

  “Why were you in my memory?” She stood, anger streaming off her. “Can’t you do anything right? I told you to invoke the memory charm, not modify it or spell it. Geez, Jade. Keep your magic to yourself next time. Who knows what kind of lasting effect this will have.”

  “Excuse me?” I rose and met her toe to toe. Last week, as the leader of the New Orleans coven, I’d been tasked to reinstate Lailah’s magical ability. She’d been in a magical time out after she’d accidentally poisoned Bea. Unfortunately, I’d gotten a little overzealous and ended up sharing part of my magical spark with Lailah. That’s what caused our psychic connection. Believe me, it wasn’t a mistake I was likely to make again. “The only magic I used was to light the match. If the charm went wrong, it’s on you. All I did was what you asked. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  “The potion worked. You were there. My memory came roaring back…to you.” She stepped forward and pointed a finger at me. “All I got out of it was your thoughts!” Her voice rose until she was almost shouting.

  Blood rushed to my ears, and I took a step back before the altercation became physical. I clenched my fists to keep from turning her finger into a pretzel.

  “Problem?” Lucien asked from the arched doorway.

  “Oh, no. Nothing at all,” Lailah mocked. “Except your coven leader messed up a basic memory retrieval charm.” She paused, eyeing me. If you spent less time in Kane’s bed, you’d have more time to learn your job.

  “What did you say?” I cried.

  “You heard me.” She tossed her honey-blond hair and left the room.

  I had to do something about our psychic connection. Soon. Sensing emotions was one thing, but direct thoughts? Not acceptable. Especially when the person in question clearly didn’t like me, just as much as I didn’t like her.

  Lucien picked up the glass bowl and carried it to a utility sink near the back door. He dumped out the contents and went to work on sterilizing it. “What happened with the memory charm?”

  I stared out the window at the fading afternoon sun. “Something odd.”

  He chuckled. “Something’s always odd when you’re involved.”

  I shrugged. “I guess so, but this was different. I only used magic to light a match and that was before I even stated my
intentions. I don’t see how I ended up sucked into Lailah’s memory. Or how Philip managed to force me out.”

  Footsteps caught my attention. I glanced back and a wave of relief washed through me. Kane. The man had a way of putting me at ease just by being present. “Where’s Kat?” I asked.

  “Talking Lailah down.” He draped an arm around my waist. “Want to fill me in?”

  Lucien placed the now-clean bowl back into the cabinet and motioned for us to follow him outside. The balmy November air warmed my skin, but when Lucien’s expression turned grave, my limbs turned to ice.

  He locked his green eyes on mine, intense and worried. “I think Lailah’s been possessed again.”

  Chapter 5

  Before my brain processed what Lucien said, Kane spoke. “What makes you think that?”

  “Jade infiltrated her memory. The breach suggests a weakening in her aura. With her memory loss, I’m almost certain she’s been compromised.”

  “Meri’s back?” I breathed, clutching Kane’s arm. He tensed, and I tightened my grip. I’d just gotten him back from her clutches. I wouldn’t let her have him again.

  “Not necessarily. But the only being strong enough to penetrate an angel’s aura is a demon or another angel.”

  “Philip?” My eyes widened.

  Why couldn’t angels be good? Was nothing sacred?

  Lucien shook his head. “Probably not. We don’t know if the person you saw in your vision was Philip. Angels don’t turn on each other. They save their energy for demons.”

  I stared at a weed forcing its way through the patio bricks. Prior to Lailah poisoning Bea, she’d been acting strange. I’d known something was off about her, but none of the coven members dared entertain the idea an angel could be less than…well, angelic. Look what happened to her. She’d been controlled by a demon.

  My gut told me the mystery man was Philip. Until someone proved otherwise, I’d work under the impression he was up to no good. No one was going to be a victim of possession on my watch.