Bewitched on Bourbon Street (20 page)

“Maybe, but I sure as heck don’t want to find out.” I pulled the last book from her hands and placed it on the pile. “Let’s form a plan, all right?”

“Fine. But no more joking around. I’m not in the mood.” Before I could say anything else, she stalked over to the counter, pulled out a notepad, and started scribbling.

Bea took her place beside her and flipped open one of her ancient spell books, while I watched them both with a little bit of awe. I might’ve had a lot of raw power, but those two women had something else. Knowledge. Backbone. Heart.

“Well?” Lailah said when I didn’t move.

“I’m right here,” I said, hurrying to the counter. “Just trying to figure out where I fit in.”

Lailah stopped scribbling. “You’re the muscle—the one who’s going to make this happen.” She handed me the list she’d just made. “Now grab these things from the shelves. We have potions and charms to prepare.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I gave her a mock salute and went to work.

Chapter 21

Kane

A line stretched out the door of Pyper’s café, the Grind. Instead of waiting for my turn, I walked straight into the back, grabbed the only apron I could find, and joined her at the espresso machine to help move the customers through the line.

“Hey, you,” she said, grinning at me. “You look really good in pink.”

I grimaced. “What happened to the black aprons?”

She shrugged. “I wanted a little color in my life.”

“Right. Because you don’t have enough of that.” Considering she was an artist and spent quite a lot of time body painting, color wasn’t really an issue for her.

“Okay, you got me. They were on sale. And totally worth it now that you’re wearing one.” She winked and handed an order to a waiting customer. Then she turned back to me. “What brings you here?”

“Coffee.” I poured milk into one of the metal containers and handed it to her to steam. “But this line was so long, I figured it would be faster if I helped.”

“Aww, you’re too sweet.”

Not really. Pyper had spent a few years helping me manage the club next door, so when it looked like she needed an extra pair of hands, I was happy to pitch in. It was what best friends did. I spent the next half hour immersed in making lattes and cappuccinos, perfectly content to have something other than angels and demons to occupy my mind.

When the line died down, I was just walking into the back to grab a fresh tray of pastries when I heard, “Rouquette, since when did you become a barista?”

I stopped mid-step and turned to find Ezra leaning against the counter, a smug smile on his narrow face. Wiping my hands on the apron, I raised one eyebrow. “How did you know where to find me?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t. Actually, I was going to look for you next door but came in here for a coffee first. Now I’m killing two birds with one stone.”

Pyper glanced between the two of us, and then her gaze landed on me. “What’s going on?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. At least not yet.” I untied the apron and handed it to her. “Here. I’ve got to talk to him. Can you get us two coffees?”

She nodded and waved me off when I tried to pay for them.

“Over here.” I gestured to a table in the corner.

Ezra sat across from me and stretched his feet out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles.

Pyper sauntered over and placed our coffees in front of us. She patted my shoulder and said, “Thanks for the help.”

“Thank you for the view.” Ezra scanned her body, his gaze lingering on her denim-clad ass.

Her smile vanished.

“Jesus. You tappin’ that, Rouquette?”

“Watch it, kid,” I said, a growl in my voice.

“Dude, don’t worry. I’m not trying to horn in on your action, but damn. She’s fine.”

Pyper cleared her throat. “Excuse me.”

He gave her a slow, lazy grin. “Yeah? You want my number? I’m not free tonight, but I could use someone to warm my bed tomorrow, say around eleven?”

“Jesus,” she muttered. “Not even if your dick came with batteries and was twelve inches long. Now get your eyeballs off my ass before I burn your retinas with that coffee I just gave you. Got it?”

His grin widened. “You can’t fault a guy for askin’.”

“Yeah. I can.” She turned to me. “Get this jerk out of my café.”

Grabbing my coffee, I stood. “Sorry, Pypes.”

She waved a hand, indicating not to worry about it as she headed back to the counter.

“Come on, kid. Let’s go.” I strode out, irritation making my skin itch. Pyper was more than able to take care of herself, but his sleaze still pissed me off. Once we were outside, I said, “Talk to her that way again, and you’ll answer to my fist.”

He gave me a what-the-fuck look, but when I didn’t back down, he shrugged. “Whatever, man. I was just messing around.”

“Well, mess around somewhere else.” I took off down the street, heading back toward my house where my car was parked. He fell into step beside me, and I glanced over at him. “What is it you wanted to talk to me about?”

He shook his head. “Not here.”

His cocky, over-the-top attitude had vanished, and he’d morphed back into the introverted, almost wounded young man I’d met the day before.

“All right. I’m headed to the Brotherhood now. Want to ride along? We can talk in the car.”

He nodded and shoved his hands into his pants pockets, hunching his shoulders as if he wanted to fold into himself.

As irritated as I had been at him back at Pyper’s café, now all I could muster was pity. He’d had a shit life, and no amount of money Chessandra threw at him was going to fix that. What he needed was a good therapist. And a strong support network. I was willing to bet he had neither.

Once we reached my Lexus, I hit the remote and nodded toward the passenger side. “This is it.”

He eyed it and said, “Sweet ride.” But there wasn’t any emotion behind the words. He was just going through the motions.

Both of us were silent as I navigated out of the French Quarter. After a while I couldn’t take it anymore and glanced over at him. “All right. What’s up?”

He stared straight ahead, and for a moment, I thought he was going to ignore me. But then he turned, his face contorted into something that resembled rage. “My mother’s the one who orchestrated that curse.”

Ice climbed up my spine at his words. I jerked my attention back to the road and gripped the steering wheel until my hands ached. “You’re saying Chessandra cursed my wife?”

“No.”

“Oh.” The feeling started to come back into my hands as I relaxed my grip.

But then he said, “I’m saying she’s the one who ordered it.”

I swerved toward the curb and slammed the car into park. My entire body stiffened with tension, and static filled my ears as raw, unadulterated rage filled me. Chessandra, the high angel, overseer of souls, had had Jade cursed. She’d tried to take Jade’s soul at one point, and now she was trying to take our child. Unable to sit any longer, I jumped out of the car and paced. What could we do? Go back to the angel realm and demand she do something about it?

The last time we’d gone there, we’d ended up in lockdown. And it wasn’t like we could fight her in the angel realm. She had all the power. No. We were going to have to get help from the leaders of the rest of the magical community. That meant Maximus and probably the head of the Witch’s Council—who I didn’t know, but I was sure Maximus or Bea did.

Frustration coiled in my gut. My last meeting with Maximus had been strained at best. Well, too damned bad. He’d just have to see reason. But he wasn’t going to do anything without proof. I took a deep breath and climbed back into the car.

“You all right?” Ezra pierced me with his dark gaze.

“It’s not me anyone needs to worry about.” I fired up the car and pulled back out onto the street, not wanting to waste even another minute. I came to a stop at a streetlight and faced him. “How do you know Chessandra is responsible for the curse?”

He shook his head. “I can’t tell you that.”

I narrowed my eyes and inched in closer. “You’re going to tell me. In order to bring her down, we’re going to need proof.”

A gleam lit his gaze, and his lips formed a twisted smile for just a moment before vanishing. “I’ll do what I can, but my source has to remain anonymous.”

“Fuck.” I pounded my fist on the wheel and then ran a hand through my hair. “I need more than speculation.”

“I have more.”

“Well? What is it?”

Ezra pointed out the window. “Make a right.”

“Why?”

“There’s something you need to see. Proof of Chessandra’s crimes.”

“What proof?”

“You said you needed it. I’m giving it to you to see for yourself.” He pointed again. “Turn here.”

I didn’t hesitate. If he had something tangible on the high angel I could take to the leaders, everything would change. The tires squealed as I rounded the corner and headed toward Central City. “Where are we going?”

“We’ll be there in a few blocks.” Ezra peered straight ahead. A minute later, he gestured to the right and again said, “Turn here.”

I steered the car onto a rundown street full of houses still in serious need of renovation after Hurricane Katrina. A few had bars on the windows. Only one appeared to be lived in, with a red car out front and Christmas lights hanging from the roof.

“Here.” Ezra indicated a beat-up white Creole cottage with ivy growing out of the plank siding.

I stopped in front of the house, leaving the car idling.

“Let’s go. What you have to see is inside.” Ezra slid out of the car and didn’t look back as he climbed the questionable wooden steps. The entire porch seemed to sway under his weight.

“Jeez,” I muttered and flipped the ignition off, praying the Lexus would still be there when we got back.

“Move it, Rouquette,” Ezra said from the open doorway.

The place looked deserted, but after my time spent with the Brotherhood, that only heightened my unease. Walking into such a place without my dagger was asking for trouble. But Ezra had already disappeared into the house, and leaving him there wasn’t an option, either.

I moved up the porch, thankful my foot didn’t crash through any of the rotted boards, and stood in the doorway, waiting for my eyesight to adjust. Old, ratty furniture filled the front room, and the musty air all but choked me. The only sign of life was the footprints Ezra had left in the dust covering the scuffed wooden floors.

I sucked in a breath of clean air and made my way through the dark house, hearing nothing but the scuff of my boots on the floor. I found Ezra standing in the threshold of the back door.

“This way,” he said.

Gritting my teeth, I followed him into the overgrown back yard. He stopped under an old oak tree and turned to stare at me.

I stilled and waited under a thick limb of the tree. “Well? Where’s this proof of yours?”

Ezra backed up and sat on a wooden bench that was being claimed by the vegetation. “This morning I learned that Chessandra had compelled a newbie witch to cast the black magic spell on your wife. The one who just got a new soul. Do you know who she is?”

Zoe?
Was that even possible? Hadn’t Jade told me it was angel magic? And why had he brought me here to tell me this? Nothing was making any sense. “I’m not sure—”

“My contact overheard her talking about it. Good ol’ Mom has bewitched…what’s her name? Zoe?”

I nodded. “Yes. She’s the one who got a new soul.”

“Yeah. Her. Anyway, Mom has her doing her dirty deeds for her. If your wife is as powerful as everyone says she is, it won’t take much for her to see the enchantment on the new witch once she’s looking for it.”

Anger surged through my veins. I practically vibrated with it. What Ezra had said sounded exactly like something Chessandra would do. She was forever getting everyone else to do her dirty work. First her sister, Mati, to try to close a demon portal, then me and Jade to deal with the shadows, and even when she wanted to keep Pyper in the angel realm to clean up their open case files. If she thought she needed power over Jade’s child, would she do this too?

She might. It wasn’t something I could rule out. She was ruthless when it came to her agenda. I had to let Jade know Zoe was compromised. I reach for my phone, but came up empty. Dammit. I’d forgotten it’d gone missing after I’d battled Malstord.

“Kane Rouquette,” a smooth voice called from behind me.

That all-too-familiar prickle of unease settled in my bones and I froze.

Demon.

I turned on my heel, automatically reaching for my dagger, and came up empty.

Shit.

The demon, an inch or so taller than me, stood a few feet away. He appeared almost human except for his electric-green eyes and the two small horns poking out of his shaved head. Everything else about him said older gentleman, from his pinstriped suit right down to his wingtipped shoes.

“What do you want?” I asked, acutely aware that he’d called me by name.

He smiled, showing his ultra-white, perfectly straight teeth. “You, of course.”

“And what exactly do you want from me?” I glanced back, checking on Ezra, only to find he’d completely disappeared. Betrayal made me see red. That bastard. He’d set me up.

“Your little friend is long gone.” The demon raised one hand, signaling to someone over my shoulder. I started to turn, but stinging pressure slammed into me from the back, indicating not one but at least three demons. I was surrounded with no dagger. No backup. Nothing but Jade’s magic running through my veins.

I leaped up, grabbing the lowest branch of the oak tree, and scrambled to climb. But the moment my foot touched the trunk, two hands clasped over my calf.

Heat seared up from the ground, and without even looking, I knew they’d opened a portal to Hell. A brand new one. Because it hadn’t been there a moment ago. I’d have felt it. Which meant these four were extremely powerful. Not just any demon could create a portal. Only the really old ones.

Christ, what did they want from me? My only hope was to hold them off long enough until my demon hunter brothers came running. Portals did not go unnoticed.