by Kari Gray
There was something so incredibly comforting in the familiar, and Lily smiled as her family approached. Dahlia had pulled her chestnut brown hair into a loose ponytail and a few wavy tendrils framed her face. Her lithe, athletic form moved with a grace Lily had always envied; Dahlia was adept at just about everything she tried, and she had recently added some serious self-defense to her repertoire.
Poppy, the only one of the entire family with long, dark blonde hair, had changed the most since Lily had seen her the year before. She was maturing and had developed some serious curves. By far the trendiest of the three sisters, Poppy had a style that lent itself toward the eccentric, but somehow she managed to pull things off that would have been ridiculous on anyone else.
Mimi followed the other two, standing a half a head taller, her hair a short-spiky platinum, her stature regal as ever. She wore slacks and a flowing blue tunic, with silver jewelry at her ears, neck, and wrists. Classy, strong, a force of nature. Lily felt an ache in her throat intensify when she spotted her and she swallowed past it, determined not to cry anymore. Her eyes were sore from it and she was more than a little irritated about that.
They walked quickly when they spotted her, Dahlia reaching her first. She crushed her tight and Lily’s air left her lungs in a pained whoosh. Dahlia pulled back and her eyes widened at Lily’s futile attempts to draw a breath without wincing.
“I knew it! Dammit, Lil! Look at your face! My gut said to just get in the car and drive straight here a week ago—I knew it before it even happened. Figured I was just imagining things, because you said you were fine.”
“Lily,” Poppy said, her eyes glossy with tears, and embraced her a little more gently. “You should have said something. I can’t believe you told us you have just a few scrapes.”
“It’s not that big a deal,” Lily said feebly and knew it was a pathetic attempt to blow it off when they could see for themselves she was a mess. She’d worn jeans on purpose to hide the huge bandage on her leg. There wasn’t much she could do about her face or the splint on her wrist, though.
Mimi reached for Lily, her face a mask of concern. Lily allowed her grandmother to enfold her in a gentle embrace that was endearingly familiar and comforting. Lily relaxed, for just a moment, with the woman who had raised and loved her. The subtle perfume, her soft cheeks—Mimi felt like home.
She stepped back and wiped at a tear that had escaped. “I haven’t cried this much in my whole life,” she muttered.
“Lily, look at you.” Mimi’s brow wrinkled, her ice-blue eyes bright. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”
Lily shrugged. “What good would it have done? You couldn’t have been here any sooner.”
“We’d have found a way.”
“I’ve been fine, really. There’s this guy—”
Poppy and Dahlia raised their brows in expressions so identical that she could only laugh. “He’s an old friend from school and he’s been taking good care of me.”
“Really.” Dahlia rested her hands on her hips. “Another thing you might have thought to mention.”
“Whatever.” Lily waved a hand at her. “Did you check anything?”
They shook their heads. “Just brought carry-ons,” Poppy told her as they turned and made their way to the exit. “Wait,” she said. A sparkle in eyes that were slightly narrowed told Lily her little sister had remembered something in that gigantic brain of hers that never forgot a thing. “It’s Bennett, right?”
“Yes.” She cast Poppy a sidelong glance.
“And he was going to be either a cop or a paramedic.”
Lily smiled and shook her head. “I don’t know why it still surprises me. Yes, Criminal Justice degree, decided to be a paramedic in the end.”
She turned and waited for Mimi, taking the shoulder bag from her and offering to take the rolling suitcase as well. Mimi waved her off. “How is Veronique?” she asked Lily, and Lily swallowed the lump she suddenly found in her throat.
“Still the same, Mimi. I’m sorry, I wish I had better news. We stopped by the hospital just before coming here.”
“Ronnie is tough,” Dahlia said, her own eyes bright with tears that Lily knew her sister would never allow escape, not in a million years.
Bennett pulled alongside the curb and parked, just as they approached. Lily made introductions, so proud to be with a guy who knew how to be a gentleman. At Lily’s insistence, and against Mimi’s protests, he helped Mimi into the front seat and then put her sisters’ luggage in the back of the vehicle. Lily sent him a grateful smile as she climbed in the backseat beside her sisters and he winked at her.
Once they were on the road and Bennett was doing his mama proud by being the consummate southern gentleman host to a woman who was not easily impressed, Lily turned her attention to Dahlia, who sat between her and Poppy.
“Have you seen anything that might be coming? Anything about Ronnie? Or,” she swallowed, “about any of us?”
Dahlia and Poppy stared at her, neither saying a word and the silence stretching on into several long moments as Bennett chatted with Mimi.
“What?” Lily said.
Poppy found her voice first. “Lily, what’s wrong with you?”
Lily scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Are you kidding?” Dahlia shook her head. “For the last ten years you’ve been pretending our Salem ancestors were hanged due to a case of mistaken identity.”
“So maybe I’ve had a change of heart,” she mumbled, uncomfortable with the knowledge that she deserved the scrutiny, the skepticism. “I wish I had learned more when she tried to teach me.” She gestured to Mimi. “I might have prevented some of this.”
Poppy shook her head, her blue eyes bright. “You can’t control stuff like this, Lil. It’s not your fault.”
“Well maybe a little.” Dahlia cast a glance at Lily and then turned her attention to the front of the car.
Poppy elbowed Dahlia, but Lily shook her head. “It’s true,” Lily said, figuring it was a good thing Dahlia didn’t hold much of a grudge. If Lily was practical, Dahlia was doubly so, but even still Dahlia had always accepted the fact that the family had paranormal abilities handed down from their witch ancestry. She’d always accepted it as a matter of fact, hadn’t fought against it the way Lily had.
Her heart heavy, Lily turned her attention to the window and watched the countryside speed by in a darkening blur as daylight left fully and night was nearly upon them. A moment passed, and Dahlia bumped Lily’s shoulder with hers. Lily was proud of herself for not wincing in pain.
“Sorry, Lil,” Dahlia mumbled. “It’s not your fault. I just—”
“I know.” Lily nudged Dahlia back. “I’m sorry too, sorry I made it hard for you. Sorry I didn’t accept things.”
“You had your reasons. You were older, you remember more.”
Lily shrugged, but was grateful for the absolution her usually stubborn sister was willing to give.
“Should we sing Kumbaya?” Dahlia said.
Lily’s lips twitched and she glanced at her sister. For all that they had done their fair share of fighting, the three sisters had grown up thick as thieves. Maybe it was a good thing Dahlia and Poppy hadn’t stayed behind in Boston. If Lily could only make sure she was able to find Othello’s stupid talisman, she might be able to actually keep them alive.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Lily sat on Bennett’s family room couch, flipping through the small book her mother had written for her years ago. It was a tender remembrance of a time when life had been innocent, when Lily hadn’t hated her special abilities and had asked her mother to tell stories about her life and the things she’d done. The journal was full of snippets of advice, the sorts of abilities Lily’s mother suspected Lily had, and a few minor spells toward the back, along with concoctions for good health that mostly involved teas and herbs.
Poppy sat on the floor at the coffee table, searching on her laptop for information about Lady Chamonix. Dahlia sat
in a chair near Poppy and looked at Lily with a light frown. “You have no idea where this talisman is supposed to be?”
Lily shook her head and glanced helplessly at Mimi, who had made herself comfortable in a chair next to Dahlia’s. “I don’t have a clue.”
“We need to discuss it, Lily,” Mimi said, and with a smile, accepted the drink Bennett carried to her from the kitchen. “I know you’re eager to keep us all safe, but there may be far more danger than any of us can imagine. If this man were to have access to the talisman…”
Dahlia shook her head. “Who is this guy?”
“My guess is that he’s the most powerful local bokor. Basically, he’s the voodoo king.”
Lily’s mouth was dry and she glanced at Bennett, who had stilled in the act of drying his hands on a dishtowel.
He moved over to the couch and sat next to Lily, his gaze locked on Mimi. “We can’t give it to him, then,” he said. “We’ll have to think of something else.”
Lily shook her head. “Yeah, but it’ll take him all of two seconds to realize it’s not the real thing if we hand off a fake. Then what?”
Poppy rubbed her forehead where a wrinkle had appeared between her brows. “We don’t even have the real thing yet. I think that’s our first problem.”
Dahlia shrugged. “So it stays hidden. Sounds like that would be for the best anyway.”
“You guys don’t understand,” Lily said, frustrated. “He has eyes on all of us. He had someone snapping pictures of you this morning in Boston. He tried to kill me and Ronnie is hanging by a thread. He’s not going to give up.”
Mimi lifted the envelope flap and withdrew a single sheet of paper. “I read this as soon as I got off the phone with you, Lily. I think I have an idea of where the talisman might be.”
Lily leaned forward and took the paper, looking at Mimi and trying to read her expression before turning her eyes to the paper. “It’s in French,” she said, looking at the foreign words lining the page in a firm, distinctive hand.
“Yes. I was able to understand the bulk of it, although I admit my French is rusty.”
“Mine isn’t.” Poppy held out her hand and all eyes turned to her.
Mimi laughed. “I ought to have known. One of your classes this year?”
Poppy nodded and bent her fingers toward Lily. “I took three years in high school, but that was all they offered. I’ve been doing university stuff since, also met a few people online to help my pronunciation and use of colloquialisms.”
Lily handed the paper to Bennett, who put it in Poppy’s outstretched hand. “Any other languages we ought to know about?” Lily asked.
Poppy shrugged as her eyes flew across the paper. “Spanish, Italian, a smattering of German, which has actually taken me a little longer because it’s not Latin-based.”
Bennett cocked a brow at Lily and sat back against the couch, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. Lily glanced at Dahlia, who regarded them with a half-smile. Bennett had just made a non-verbal announcement to the room. And he likely knew it, too. He gave her shoulders a little squeeze and winked at her when she glanced at him. Lily had been very guarded in high school, and her family had never seen her dating in college because she’d been so far away. This would be the first time they’d seen her even remotely intimate with someone else and she felt a little self-conscious. But content. Bennett felt as much like home as the rest of her family did, and it was time her past met her present.
“Dwellings of the dead,” Poppy murmured and trailed her finger along the page.
Mimi nodded. “We need to find the graveyard where Chamonix’ people are buried. My guess is it’s in their mausoleum.”
“How are we supposed to get into a locked tomb?” Dahlia looked over her shoulder at the paper in Poppy’s hand.
Poppy frowned. “There’s a series of letters and numbers here, maybe a code?”
Mimi nodded again. “I suspect as much. But we’ll need to do some digging through a local database or even the city’s records department. I don’t know Chamonix’ surname, or even if that was her given first name at birth.”
“I can handle that part.” Poppy handed the letter back to Mimi. “How much time do we have?”
Lily sighed, feeling her apprehension build. “The masquerade ball is tomorrow night. He wants the talisman then.”
“What masquerade ball?” Dahlia asked.
Bennett snorted. “It’s this thing Lily’s not going to.”
“Yes, I am going. I’m supposed to meet crazy man there, hand over the talisman, and none of you get hurt.”
“We should all go,” Poppy said. “Bennett’s right to be worried, but if the three of us were there together…”
“Not at all what I had in mind,” Bennett said, his voice flat. “Besides, it’s an invitation only thing. You won’t get in the door.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Poppy smiled. “Leave that part to me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bennett looked at Lily.
Lily smiled, shaking her head at her sister. “Poppy can sort of…compel people to do stuff.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Has she texted again? If she doesn’t hurry, we’ll be late.” Lily frowned as she attempted to zip Dahlia’s dress; her sister kept pacing around Lily’s bedroom in Bennett’s house. They had been shopping for the bulk of the day while Poppy scoured records both digital and paper at the city county building and the town’s oldest library. She put her speed reading skills and photographic memory to work but hadn’t yet been able to locate Lady Chamonix’ family mausoleum, and nobody seemed to know where the lady herself was buried. Ronnie probably knew, but she was still unresponsive, even though her doctors had decided to try and bring her out of the medically induced coma.
Dahlia checked her phone and shook her head. “Nothing else from Poppy. But listen! Mimi says she thinks Ronnie moved her fingers.” Her eyes were bright, and Lily knew they were a reflection of her own desperate hope. She exhaled and nodded, turning Dahlia back around to cinch up the ornamental ties on the bodice that was a mixture of oranges, reds and a deep burgundy.
“Be still for a minute! Ok, there. Oh Dahlia, look at you,” Lily breathed as she steered her sister toward the full length mirror.
“Hmm,” Dahlia said as she examined her reflection, and there was a sparkle in her eyes despite her shrug. “I guess it’ll do.”
“Shut up, it’s stunning.” Lily finger-combed Dahlia’s long, chestnut brown curls and tousled them so they fell down her back and across her shoulders in cascades. “Hang on a minute, don’t move.” She retrieved the matching demi-mask and reached around Dahlia to secure it into place, and finished it off with matching elbow-length gloves.
Lily placed her hands at Dahlia’s waist and turned her to the right and then the left. “I’m totally bummed this isn’t a real party. You look amazing. Too bad we’ll be scoping out a sociopath instead of finding you someone hot to dance with.”
“Psh,” Dahlia said, but she smiled a little, probably in spite of herself.
“I feel like your fairy godmother,” Lily said, injecting mock tears into her voice and fanning herself with her hand.
“Oh my hell.” Dahlia laughed, and removed the mask. “Ok, your turn.” She moved to the bed where they’d spread out the clothing. Poppy’s ensemble included a gown graced in a beautiful pink that shimmered with light gold when the light shifted. Dahlia moved past the pink dress to Lily’s and gathered it in her hands.
“Ok,” Dahlia said. “Strip down.”
Lily eyed the dress with distaste. “This makes me want to puke. Some man eyeballed me in my sleep so throughly he got my dimensions just right. I don’t even want to put it on.”
“You don’t have a choice now, do you?” Dahlia draped the dress over one arm and held out her hand for Lily’s robe, which she reluctantly shrugged out of. She’d had to buy a new bra to work with the dress, and it was one more thing to add to her list of
grievances against Othello.
“I guess I should be glad he didn’t buy me underwear,” Lily muttered as she turned and let Dahlia help her step into the gown. It settled over her skin like cool silk, the short sleeves resting just off her shoulders and fitting itself like a second skin as Dahlia zipped up the back.
“Wow.” Dahlia walked Lily over to the mirror. “Your turn.”
It was absolutely beautiful. And she hated it. It felt like an unwanted caress and she shuddered. “My first time at a ball and prince charming is a creeper who wants to turn the world into a zombie army.”
“Don’t pout.” Dahlia deftly twisted the hair at the sides of Lily’s face, pulling the two ropes she created around to the back of Lily’s head and securing it with pins. The rest of the hair hung down in curls that matched Dahlia’s own, except Lily’s were a deep black. “We’ll go to another party, a real one, and you can dance with your true prince charming. Who is, might I add, remarkably hot.”
Lily tried to smile and looked at Dahlia in the mirror. The stress on her sister’s face—that Dahlia was undoubtedly doing her best to hide—hit Lily hard and she bit her lip. The ordeal wasn’t terrifying for her alone, her sisters had also been dragged into it and none of them faced any guarantees of successfully coming out of it alive. The very fact that the girls were accompanying her flew in the face of Othello’s explicit instructions and Lily could only hope he’d see it as something to his advantage. Lily’s collateral, her “insurance” that she comply with his demands would be right there with her. She knew she should insist that she go alone, but she was freaked out just enough that when Poppy had made her proclamation that they all go, she’d felt a surge of relief. Bennett was really the most likely choice to go with her, but even he knew that it wouldn’t be wise for him to tempt fate with the voodoo king. Three women appeared much less threatening; he would have to watch from a distance, and Lily knew he wasn’t happy about it.
