Healing the Bayou (22 page)

Read Healing the Bayou Online

Authors: Mary Bernsen

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fantasy, #Multicultural & Interracial, #Witches & Wizards, #paranormal romance, #Multicultural, #Interracial Romance

BOOK: Healing the Bayou
6.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

The reality of it all came tumbling down on me. All this was for power. This woman’s lustful greed for power cost the lives of four people I loved dearly, and here she stood talking about it as though it was nothing. And now that I was in Louisiana, what was to stop her from trying to kill me a fourth time?

My vision crossed and blurred, and this time my eyes tingled as the irises shifted into blackness. With the weight of a hammer I clotheslined her, sending her falling back on to the same chair she had just been peacefully asleep in.

No more peaceful nights for this creature. From this day forth her nightmares would be of me. Every time she had the urge to use her gift, she would think of me. The way she had made me suffer would pale in comparison.

As I dug my fingers into her arms, her light begin to slither into them. She cried out in pain, but I wouldn’t let go until she was as weak and powerless as a mortal. The light above the stairway started to flicker, and all of a sudden it exploded, sending shards of glass flying across the room. Her power moved seamlessly into my fingers, sending vibrations shooting through my entire body. She was draining under my grasp, and the very last drop of energy that left her was the sweetest.

“What…what have you done to me?” she asked, holding up her hands to examine them in horror.

Leaning my face down close to hers I whispered, “You will never hurt another member of my family or
my
community again. This is my mother’s house, Vivian. That means now, it’s mine. Get out.”

“But where will I go?” Her lip quivered in self-pity.

I shrugged. “That’s not my problem. But if I were you, I would stay the hell out of New Orleans.”

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

 

“No peeking,” Samuel teased.

“I hate surprises,” I lied. I really did love them.

My shoulders fit perfectly into his palm, and he used them to cautiously direct me up the steps to the front door to the house I had claimed as my own only weeks before.

After I banished Vivian and took back my parent’s dwelling, Samuel and Camille moved back in and Marcus stayed. There was an extra room now since Samuel and I took Vivian’s old room, so I invited Jenny to join us. Her parents were moving out of the state, and she had no desire to go with them.

After all we had been through together they were truly the family I no longer had. The familiar creak of the door fueled my anticipation, along with lots of hushed whispers telling the other whisperers to be quiet. Samuel’s fingers made clumsy work of the knot he had tied just a little too well on the blindfold that kept me in the dark.

“Are you ready?” he asked in the rare boyish, giddy tone.

“Knowing this town?” I snickered. “Probably not even close.”

The thin piece of cloth fell from my eyes, and my heart dropped to my feet. A small crowd was squeezed into my living room. Standing right in the center of them all was my tearful Aunt Patrice clutching a handkerchief, and my Uncle Charlie leaning on the mantel where a giant banner was spread across that said
Welcome Home
.

I covered my mouth and choked back a sob. Aunt Patrice stretched her arms open wide and I ran to her, pulling Uncle Charlie in for a group hug.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

Aunt Patrice just shook her head and fanned herself to stop from crying. She was too emotional to answer, so I looked to Charlie.

“Your friend Samuel called us,” he explained. Damn, I had missed his accent.

I twirled around to Samuel, who was standing only feet away. He never let me get much farther away than that these days. Even when I was in the bathroom, he waited right outside the door—a habit which was becoming more creepy than cute.

“How did you…” I started.

“I knew you had been thinking about them. I found their number in your phone while you were in the shower. I hope you’re not mad.”

I shook my head and hugged him. “Of course I’m not mad.”

“Lizzy…” Patrice looked as if she had seen a ghost. “You’re hugging him. And you just hugged us!”

“There’s a lot to tell you,” I said. “Samuel, do you mind if I take them upstairs for a few minutes?”

His hand tightened around my waist for a moment. I didn’t think he was going to let me go without him, but he released me.

“I’ll be right down here if you need me,” he said.

I showed my aunt and uncle to my room. Aunt Patrice and I sat on the end of the bed while Uncle Charlie sat in the chair by my vanity.

“What did he mean, if you need me,” she asked suspiciously.

“Nothing. He’s just a little overprotective.”

She narrowed her eyes on me. “You mean he’s controlling? I don’t like controlling men.”

“No, he isn’t controlling. He’s got his reasons for being concerned, Aunt Patrice, I promise.”

“Well, now you have me concerned.” Uncle Charlie furrowed his brow.

I hadn’t really noticed the similarities between my Uncle Charlie and Samuel, but now that I thought about it, it made me smile. They both had the macho thing going on, and they both loved me fiercely, even if they didn’t say it.

“What’s going on, Eliza?” she demanded.

“All right.” I took a deep, cleansing breath.

I brought them up to speed with one long-winded story, and most of the time I was worried they thought I was making it up as I went. I knew how crazy it all sounded. I didn’t know if I would believe it if it was coming from one of them. But luckily for me, they were far more open-minded than I was. Or at least, more than I had been in the past.

“Why didn’t you report any of this?” Aunt Patricia pushed back a strand of hair from my eye and examined me more closely, searching my face to make sure I was really as OK as I claimed to be.

“Really?” I laughed. “You want to know why I didn’t report that my magical aunt killed my magical parents?”

Uncle Charlie chuckled, but Aunt Patrice didn’t find the humor in it.

“You could’ve been killed,” she said.

“But I wasn’t. Samuel wouldn’t let that happen.”

As if it was right on cue, there was a light tap on the door and Samuel peered in.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure you were OK.”

I smiled weakly at him, and Uncle Charlie pulled the door from his hands, opening it the rest of the way. I was a little worried he was angry with Samuel for bringing me into all this, but when he noticed my protector, his face softened.

“Thank you.” He held his hand out for Samuel to shake it. “She’s very special to us. Thank you for everything.”

“She’s very special to me too,” Samuel said.

“Patrice,” Charlie called. “Let’s let the lovebirds have a moment, shall we? I’m pretty sure they were making cocktails downstairs.”

“There’s plenty of peach schnapps,” Samuel told her as she walked by. He must have heard me thinking it was her favorite.

“Why were we up in the first place then?” She laughed, closing the door behind her.

“So,” I said shyly, fidgeting with the hem of the pink sundress I was wearing.

“So,” he echoed in his deep, sexy voice. He was peering not-so-discretely at my cleavage, and I fought the instinct to cover myself.

He slowly made his way to the bed where I was still sitting and hovered over me, resting his hands on each side of my body. Tilting my head up, I leaned back to get a nice full view of his perfect face. He moved in closer to kiss me. I held his face in my hands to keep him back.

“I need to ask you about something.” I really didn’t want to interrupt the moment, but if I didn’t ask now, I would forget again.

“OK,” he said, doing a poor job of hiding his frustration. He shifted his body and sat next to me. “I really don’t want to talk about the car accident.”

“Could you stay out of my head for just a minute, please?”

He rolled his eyes and nodded. “Go ahead.”

“When I had the car accident, were you there?”

“Yes.”

“Samuel,” I whined.

“What do you want to know, Eliza?” he groaned. “I was there. I saw the whole damned thing.”

“I don’t remember any of it.”

“You were at a stoplight…” He caught his breath as if he were reliving a tragedy in his mind. “I was in the lane next to you. Vivian’s goons waited for you to start crossing the intersection and they T-boned you at full speed. I tried but I couldn’t get to them quickly enough to knock them off their path. The front of my car only nicked their rear, but was enough to slow them down at least. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Eliza. I should have stopped it completely. It should have never happened.”

He laid his head in my lap, and his entire body shivered. He blamed himself and my heart ached for him. Running my fingers through his hair, I bent to kiss the back of his head.

“Oh Samuel.” I sniffled. “You have no reason to feel sorry for anything. You’ve kept me alive. That’s more than I could expect from anyone.”

“That’s not good enough. I couldn’t stand seeing you hurt.” He sat up and pulled my chin into his fingers. “I won’t let them hurt you again, Eliza. I promise you that.”

I wiped a stray tear from his cheek. “I know you won’t, Samuel.”

Then, as if we hadn’t just had this huge emotional breakthrough for him, he hopped to his feet and pulled me up with him, preparing to face the world.

“Come on, you have a lot of visitors waiting for you downstairs. I can’t keep you all to myself.”

“Sure you can.” I pouted, only half teasing.

He dragged me back down the stairs where the party had not waited for me to start. Everyone was laughing, dancing, mingling, and drinking. It made me happy that they were finally so much at peace, and I could only pray as their new mambo I could keep life so carefree for them. I still had a lot of work to do.

Samuel pulled me from my thoughts by gently squeezing my hand. “I have someone I want you to meet.”

He led me to a corner where I was greeted with a familiar bearded face chatting it up, dare I say flirting, with little Jenny.

“Mr. Mueller!” I sprung into his arms, thrilled to know he was alive and in good health.

He looked surprised and perhaps a little embarrassed by being caught cradle-robbing, but pleased just the same. “Eliza, it’s so good to see you.”

“I was so worried when you’d disappeared. Are you hurt? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “I had to get away from Vivian for a while, that’s all. When my son told me you put your life at risk to save us all, I had to come back to thank you in person.”

“Your son? Who is your son?”

He didn’t say anything. He only looked proudly at Samuel. For the first time, I noticed they had the same piercing green eyes. The same jawline, at least from what I could tell from under Mr. Mueller’s beard. And they definitely had the same tiny ears.

Samuel cleared his throat. “Eliza, I’d like to introduce you to my father, Elijah Mueller.”

Mr. Mueller lifted my hand to his lips and gently pecked my skin. I blushed. All of a sudden, this wasn’t just a sweet old man who’d gotten lost during a ritual. He was my boyfriend’s father. I instinctively straightened my posture and tried to look much more ladylike, someone he would approve of for his little boy. I thought I had kicked the whole self-conscious thing, but this awkward situation brought the feeling right back.

Mr. Mueller laughed a deep belly laugh. “You don’t have to concern yourself with impressing me, my dear. You’ve done your job well enough on that front.”

I giggled. My mind flashed back to the conversation I’d had with Vivian, and it pushed my insecurities aside. I jumped up to kiss the man’s cheek.

“My.” He turned crimson. “What on earth was that for?”

“That was for saving my life all those years ago.”

He was the one who’d pulled me from the fire when I was a baby, and his son kept the tradition ever since.

“Well, you can credit Samuel for that, not me,” he said humbly.

“You’ll be returning home then? It’s a beautiful house by the way. I’m sure Samuel told you we took refuge there.”

“With Vivian gone? Try and keep me away.” He winked.

“Excuse me, everyone,” Samuel shouted, clinking a spoon on a wine glass that somehow had just appeared in his hand.

It took a couple of repeats before the partially intoxicated crowd took notice of him, but eventually they quelled their conversations.

He continued when the room was silent. “Eliza, I think I speak for everyone here when I say we are all in debt to you. Because of your bravery, none of us have to be scared to practice in our own way, or to live up to our full potential.”

“No,” I said. It was important to me they know I was their friend, not their overlord. “None of you owe me anything. It was my responsibility.”

He shook his head with affection. “And you’re so humble. And beautiful. And brilliant.”

Aunt Vivian forcefully pushed her way through the crowd, making her way to my side. She squeezed my arm. “I know where this is going.”

Call it naivety, or as I preferred, inexperience, but I didn’t have a clue.

“Eliza Morgan,” he said, my name sounding so sweet coming from his lips. “Nicole Paris.” He dropped to one knee. “Will you marry me?”

I stopped breathing and stood frozen. Was he serious? I knew we were destined to be together, and not too long ago I was walking down the aisle ready and excited to be marrying him after having the same internal debate that was raging on now. But this time the reason behind my hesitation was very different. I didn’t want to marry him out of obligation, and I couldn’t stand it if that was the only reason he was asking.

“No,” he said sharply, hearing my fear. “This has nothing to do with them.” He gestured to the crowd. “I want to marry you because I love you.”

I inhaled sharply through barely parted lips. I’d wanted him say
I love you
from the moment I met him, and it had taken all my energy not to say it first.

“I know you’ve only just gotten to know me,” he continued, “but I’ve known you for ten years. You’ve selflessly help so many people. You’ve known so much heartache in your lifetime. Let me be the one good, constant thing.” Noticing Aunt Patrice glaring, he caught himself. “Besides your aunt and uncle of course.”

Other books

Ether & Elephants by Cindy Spencer Pape
A Reason To Breathe by Smith, C.P.
(Not That You Asked) by Steve Almond
Cy in Chains by David L. Dudley
DeadEarth: Mr. 44 Magnum by Michael Anthony
Sorry, Bro by Bergeron, Genevieve
The Christmas Child by Linda Goodnight