Angels of Bourbon Street (2 page)

A buzzer sounded from the kitchen, and Gwen disappeared, leaving me alone. Pyper laughed from the other room. I frowned and snatched my phone again. Missed call from Kane. Some of the turmoil eased from my chest. Smiling, I touched his number.

“Hey, pretty witch,” he said, his voice low and seductive. “I’ve been thinking about that dreamwalk we shared last night. How about we recreate that scene when I get home?”

“Hey, yourself.” I licked my lips, picturing him naked and making love to me in the water. Kane was a dreamwalker and could slip into my dreams whenever he wanted, which was usually nightly. “We don’t have a pool.”

“I’ll call a contractor as soon as we hang up.”

I laughed. “Okay then. Sounds perfect. Did you call for anything specific or just to flirt with me? ”

“I heard maybe you could use some good news.”

“Oh?” I glanced behind me at Pyper. She was busy scribbling in her notebook again. I hoped whatever she was booking was damned important. If not, I was going to strangle her. It wasn’t as if one got married every day. “Did Kat call you?” I asked Kane.

He chuckled. “Maybe.”

Shaking my head, I smiled. My best friend always knew what I needed. “Okay, what’s the good news?”

“Other than the fact that I have plans starting in exactly seven hours that involve the shower and stripping you down to—”

“Excuse me,” a soft feminine voice called in the background. “Mr. Rouquette?”

“Damn it,” he muttered. “Hold on a sec, Jade.”

Static filled the phone for a moment before Kane spoke again. “Hey, babe, I’ve got some paperwork I need to complete, and the courier is waiting for it. Can I give you a call back?”

So much for my good news. “Sure. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Love you.” The phone went dead.

Slightly mollified from the sound of Kane’s voice, I rolled my shoulders, trying to relax, and went in search of my mother. The house was big but not that big. What could she be doing for forty-five minutes? I sent Pyper a frustrated glare as I made my way up the stairs. She gave me an apologetic smile, the same expression she’d been wearing when she’d first answered her phone. The one I’d been too irritated to decipher. Well, at least she felt guilty.

Had I really just thought that?

Oh, jeez. I was about five seconds from crossing over into bridezilla land. I took a deep breath, and the rest of my tension disappeared instantly. They were all making an effort, even if it wasn’t working out as planned.

I used to always know exactly what my friends were feeling, but with my empath ability now gone, I’d been having a hard time adjusting. When you spent your life privy to your loved ones’ emotions, it was rather disconcerting when the gift vanished.

Last month, the angel Meri had managed to gain access to my soul, and we ended up sharing it—a fate that would have eventually killed one of us. The angel council stepped in and decided to award my soul to the angel. In the transfer, my soul split, leaving each of us with half. The half Meri got also included my empath gift.

At first, I’d been relieved. I’d had peace and quiet for the first time ever. No other energy was affecting my moods. It was bliss. Until I realized how much I’d relied on that sense to help me cope with the people around me. I was like a deaf person trying to read lips without any training.

At the top of the stairs, I paused, listening. Where was Mom? Silence. Hmm. I headed right to the room we’d turned into an office for me. The door stood slightly ajar. Inside, the dark walnut desk gleamed to a shine, my laptop still sitting closed in the middle. Not a pen was out of place. The following two guest rooms were empty. I slowed as I neared the lilac room. A rustle of paper sounded from inside. Oh, no.

I pushed open the door. Mom stood in front of the antique dresser, her arms out and five candles lit. With her eyes closed, she recited, “Lost. Found. Lost. Found. Open my sight. Let the lost be found.” It was the finding spell she’d taught me so long ago.

“Mom!” I cried and ran forward. “No.” The last time I’d lit those candles, the resident ghost, Camille, had surfaced. She’d caused all kinds of mayhem at the Christmas engagement party Kane and I’d thrown a few weeks ago. Bea said there was some sort of summoning spell connected with the candles, but we hadn’t had a chance to neutralize them yet.

“Reveal yourself!” Mom commanded.

Shit, shit, shit.

The candles flickered, and a second later the flames extinguished. The remaining five trails of smoke shot out the door. Mom barreled past me into the hallway. I followed her and the smoke down the stairs and into the kitchen. The smoke curled near the pantry and sucked its way in through the edges.

She flung open the door, and right there among the canned goods was my wedding planning book. “Finally. Thank the Goddess. I’ve been looking for this all morning.”

Just as her hands wrapped around the leather binding, a chill crept over my body. My limbs went numb, and I gasped for breath, unable to fill my lungs with the icy air.

Mom spun around, holding the book out to me. Her triumphant smile fell, and she took a step back.

“Hope?” I heard my aunt’s faint voice from somewhere far off. “What’s going on?”

Static rang in my ears. The chill crawled up my spine, down my legs, and prickled over every inch of my skin, paralyzing me in place. Then, with sudden force, my muscles spasmed as the ice raced through my veins straight to my heart. Panic screamed from the depths of my brain, but I couldn’t move. Couldn’t talk. Couldn’t even think.

The one thing I could do was feel. Foreign joy and triumph sailed to my heart, conflicting horribly with my own confused fear. Giddy elation seized me, and my numb limbs moved on their own.

Frustrated tears gathered in my eyes, the only form of protest I could muster as something, someone clumsily carried my body past Gwen to the warm snickerdoodles still cooling on the rack.

My trembling hand reached out and grabbed a cookie. Without any will from me, my hand stuffed the entire cookie in my opened mouth. A high-pitched moan of ecstasy escaped from the depths of my throat as the cinnamon sugar melted on my tongue. Involuntarily, I swallowed and licked the excess crumbs from my lips. Another satisfied groan. And then in a high, giddy voice, words tumbled from my mouth. “It’s been a hundred years since I tasted anything so delicious.” I giggled and added, “Or anything at all.”

No, no, no
, I screamed, but the words went nowhere. They stayed locked away in my head.

“Jade?” Gwen prompted in a far-away voice, trembling with concern.

My mother’s eyes narrowed, and sudden fear replaced the joy filling me. My heart sped up as my mother raised her arms once again. Green energy crackled at her fingertips, her earth magic clinging to her hands in a spidery electric conduit. The magic shot out at the same time she shouted, “Release her!”

The ice melted a fraction of a second before the magic hit me right in my gut. Fire exploded through me, knocking me back with such force that I rose through the air and slammed into the nook wall. I seemed to hang there for a moment then crumpled to the floor, gasping.

“Oh, no, Jade!” My mom’s voice was clear now, no static, just a ringing from having my clock cleaned by a very powerful earth witch. “I’m so sorry, honey,” she said and kneeled beside me, checking for damage.

I tested my arms, then my legs, and rolled my neck. Everything was mine again. “I’m fine, Mom,” I said and nudged her out of the way, staring right into the face of the ghost who’d just managed to possess me. “Camille,” I said in a low, dangerous tone.

“Hello, Jade,” she said in her high, tinkling voice. “I’m so glad to see you again.”

Chapter 2

The tall, dark-haired woman floated beside me, her beaded satin ball gown flowing gracefully to her feet. I took a few steps backward, trying to escape the chill in my bones. Gwen put a protective, warm hand on my arm.

Camille, Summer House’s resident ghost, floated closer, smiling serenely.

“Stop right there!” I demanded.

The ghost reached out, her icy fingers wrapping around my wrist. I trembled, bracing myself for another possession. How was I going to keep her out? I could already feel her excitement racing up my forearm.

My magic sparked in my chest. From the depths of my inner being, a blast of heat raced toward her icy probe. The sensations joined together in some sort of mystical standoff for a few beats. I met Camille’s faded gray eyes. Our gazes locked, and I struggled to fight her hold on me. My strength faltered as my power slipped from my mental grasp. I let out a frustrated growl, and my magic fled, vanishing as her energy plunged back into me.

Through blurry vision, I spotted Gwen and Mom hovering, my mom’s hands sparking with magic. I shook my head frantically, afraid she’d blast me across the room again. I wasn’t sure what was worse—the ghost or the concussion.

Intangible thoughts formed in my mind. Revenge. Death. A woman holding a limp child, tears falling on the little girl’s angelic face. A deep terror seized my heart as I realized none of these thoughts were mine. They were Camille’s. She was invading not only my body but my mind.

Hate slithered like tendrils along my subconscious, latching into my heart, body, and soul. I vibrated with it. Somewhere deep inside, I recoiled from the horror washing through me. “Lizzie,” I said, my voice high-pitched and definitely not my own as I focused on the memory of the beloved girl.

“
Eximo
!” The powerful voice penetrated the gray haze of my world. An anguished cry ripped from my throat, and I crumpled to the floor as my limbs went from frozen to numb to blazing hot. The gray faded. Cream tiles stretched out in front of me. Three frantic voices filled the kitchen, their words streaming into my awareness in snippets. Possessed. Ghost. Black magic. Bea.

Firm hands clasped my shoulders, making me flinch. My muscles screamed in protest, my nerve endings alive like a hot wire. I curled into a fetal position, rocking back and forth, trying to shake the awful sensation.

“Stand back.”

“Mom?” I whispered. Was that her?

Something soft as velvet inched over my skin, soothing the fire burning beneath the surface. I opened my eyes, blinking to see through the early afternoon sun streaming in from a nearby window. After a moment, her green eyes came into focus. “Mom?” I said again.

“It’s okay now, Jade. You’re fine. Everything’s going to be just fine.” She sat beside me, one hand on my shoulder, the other caressing my hair back away from my face.

“What happened?” My thoughts were unfocused. A child was hurt. Someone needed help. I scrambled to sit up.

“Take it easy, shortcake,” Mom soothed. “It’s all over now.”

“But…”
Lizzie
. She needed me. I had to get to her.

A loud banging, like a door slamming into a wall, sounded from across the room. Someone else hovered over me. A sheet of blond hair fell into my view.

“Jade,” the woman said. “What was that? What happened?” I recognized her voice. Lailah. Ice-blue eyes narrowed as her intense gaze tried to command my focus.

“Lizzie,” I repeated. “She’s hurt.”

“Who’s Lizzie?” Mom asked quietly.

“Jade.” Lailah gently took one arm, pulling me to my feet. “Who did this to you?”

I stared at her through glassy eyes.

“She was possessed,” my mother said, her voice echoing in the distance. “A ghost.”

Lailah let out a shaky breath. “Okay, let’s get her off the floor and settled somewhere comfortable.”

The pair of them lifted and half-dragged me, my head spinning and eyes unfocused. I vaguely recognized the smell of leather as they settled me on what must have been a couch. Pyper and Gwen whispered behind us, but my mind couldn’t focus. All I saw were the wide, pleading blue eyes of the helpless child.

I buried my head into one of the cool cushions as grief sprang up from the depths of my tattered soul, and I had to choke back a sob, unable to control the foreign emotions.

“Hurry,” Lailah commanded. Footsteps shuffled around me. Then a warmth settled deep in my bones, and it was as if a veil lifted. The room came into focus, bright with natural light.

I sat up, glancing around at the worried faces of Mom, Gwen, Pyper, Lailah, and even Kat. When had Kat shown up? “What happened?” I asked, wiping away tears I hadn’t known I’d shed.

Frowning, Lailah sat beside me. “A ghost possessed you.”

I closed my eyes and shivered. How had she done that? I jerked and stood on wobbly legs, frantically searching for the ghost. “I know that much. Is she still here? Where is she?”

“No, sweetheart.” Gwen guided me back down onto the couch. “Lailah banished her.”

Kat moved to stand beside me, putting a light hand on my shoulder. After all these years as best friends, my body responded to her intentions without me even reaching for my magic. I glanced up at her gratefully as her tingling energy flowed into me, shoring up my strength.

Before I’d known I was a witch, I’d always considered this unusual gift of energy transfers as part of my empath ability, probably because it happened to come with a heavy dose of the other person’s emotions. This time, I didn’t get any of Kat’s calm, only a vague restorative current that stopped my trembling at once. Now I knew how other people felt when I transferred energy to them, except I missed Kat’s steady emotional energy. I could use it right about then.

“That’s not all.” Lailah paced, her footsteps muffled by the fleur-de-lis–patterned area rug. She stopped, placing her hands on her hips. “I felt it happen.”

I leaned back against the sofa, studying her, a little stunned. Lailah was an angel. She saved souls, could see auras, and wield spells. She wasn’t a psychic or an empath. She shouldn’t have been able to feel what was going on with me.

“Whoa,” Pyper said in a hushed tone. “Is it the angel connection?”

Lailah nodded, a lock of her honey-blond hair falling from her hastily tied bun. She tucked it back and sat in a chair across from me. She leaned forward, eyes worried. “The binding should’ve faded by now.”