Cover Spell (5 page)

“But, Luke, where do we go? How do I hide until you come back?”

“I have a plan for us. My Aunt Frances lives in California. I’ve written to her and she’s expecting us. You can stay with her while I’m gone. She has a little place on the water—you’ll love it.”

“California? I’ve never been to California. But then what, Luke?” Josette was looking less certain of her lover’s plan.

“Well, when I get back, we can start our own life. I’ll leave the Navy. I’ve been saving up for this. What do you think about Mexico?” His eyes widened, waiting for her reaction.

“Hmm…I don’t know. Can Papa find us there?”

“I don’t think so. I was talking to some of the guys and I heard Acapulco is great. They’re building new wharfs and warehouses. I’ll have no trouble finding work. It’s right on the beach—it’s beautiful. Look, I brought you a picture.” He untangled himself from her grasp and dug into his front pocket.

She pulled at each of her fingertips until the fabric encasing each one was loose enough to free her hands from the gloves. Josette unfolded the colorful magazine clipping, and spread the page out in her lap. I leaned over to peek. The tattered corners of the page curled over palm trees and a picture of ships trolling in front of sandy beaches. Josette traced the rooflines of the houses dotting the cluster of streets spreading out from the water.

“Oui,” she whispered. “I can see it. We could live right over here.” She pointed to a green hill. “And every morning we will wake up to warm breezes from the sea. I can plant a little garden over here, and this spot right here is where you can have your workshop. And our children will grow up playing in the sand and climbing coconut trees. I can see it, Luke.”

“Really? You want to move to Acapulco with me?” He pulled her into a crushing embrace. Josette squealed with happiness.

“Ok, we don’t have much time. Can you meet me downtown? Can you take the trolley to the train station and leave tonight?” His words picked up speed, and each one tumbled out faster than the last. He pulled Josette from her crouched position on the floor, so she balanced on her tiptoes. “I’ll be there with two tickets on the Crescent line. We leave tonight.”

She looped her palms around the back of his neck and tipped toward his chest so that the beads of her gown settled into the buttons of his shirt. “Oui, Oui. Oh yes. Papa is still at the ball, and most of the servants are off tonight. I can sneak past the housekeeper and butler. I’m sure of it.” She traced his lips with a finger, and Luke bit down gently. She smiled. “I don’t want them to get involved in this. I’ll pack and meet you there.” The French-laced words rolled off her tongue, and her eyes sparkled with love and excitement.

Luke’s lips pursed as he exhaled a long breath. Josette’s playfulness was getting to him. Probably in an effort to distract himself, he eyed the room. He spotted the untidy dressers and the shoe pandemonium on the floor. “Now, don’t bring too much. We won’t have room at first for all of the things you’re used to, but I promise, Josette, I’ll give you everything you want. Everything. I’ll take care of you.”

“I just want you,
mon amour
, my love.” She sank her lips into his until he pried himself away, and turned back to the window.

“I love you, Josette.” As quickly as he had thrown himself into the room, he disappeared over the side of the double dormer window.

Josette leaned over the side until he was only a shadow. She blew him a kiss off her white glove, but I guessed Luke had probably already run out of sight. She faced the jumbled clutter in front of her and began the frantic task of packing her life into a travel bag. I recognized the feat that girls of all ages and generations hated—light packing. I watched as she assembled a sensible bag for a lover’s escape. She picked through gowns, lace gloves, and stacks of hatboxes.

Dainty, crystal lamps positioned on either side of her dressing table cast a warm glow on the face of the teenage girl. She sat on a velvet-padded stool and sorted her jewelry into shimmery piles. I marveled at the beautiful broaches, hat pins, rings, and necklaces she lined along the back of the table. She hesitated as she ran her fingers over the pieces, but settled on a pearl necklace and a pearl ring, leaving the rest on the table in perfect order.

Josette stepped behind a changing screen and tossed the green gown over the side. After a few minutes, she emerged from behind the partition wearing a dark brown fitted jacket with wide shoulder pads accented with light brass buttons. She swapped her elbow-length, white satin gloves for a matching brown leather pair. Her black skirt stopped just above the knee, and it was darted with a few pleats at her tiny waist. She pulled a scarf from the closet and knotted it loosely around her neck. I admired her 1945 style. The smart travel suit transformed the bawling teenager into a fashionable, mature young woman.

The hard case luggage set lay open atop her frilly bed. She fastened the inside divider of the suitcase with satin ties, then firmly snapped the lid in place. She slid her hand into the handle, picked up her hat with her other hand, and walked out of the room, toward her new life with Luke.

New Orleans, Present Day

I sat up from my mound of pillows and reached for the script. I had an idea for the screenplay rewrites. It was wrapped up in Josette’s room. She couldn’t be captured on the front steps of Magnolia Plantation. That setting was all wrong. Holly was right about what I need to do. I jotted down the scenes from my head on the backside of the screenplay pages. I think this could make the difference in the scene between Evan and Emmy. I couldn’t wait to share it with the creative team in the morning.

Exhausted, I returned the edited script to my bag and slid my tired, danced-all-night body between the cool sheets. “Twinkle,” I called to the ceiling, and watched as one by one tiny sparkling stars glittered across the ceiling of my hotel room.

I had a lot to dream about tonight—star-crossed lovers that transcended time and a cute Texas boy. I giggled a little and let my eyes drift into sleep, hoping I would see Evan Carlson when I got there.

My hand reached across the firm broad chest nestled alongside me, and I studied his face while he slept. Propping myself up on an elbow, I marveled at the man next to me in bed. My lips still felt warm from his strong kisses. I couldn’t keep myself from waking him. I wanted more.

“Jack.” I nuzzled my nose into his neck, and felt the roughness of his cheek against mine.

“Hmm…” He mumbled something while I continued to pour kisses along his neck and ear. I ran my fingers against the side of his ribs, pressing firmly as my hand moved down his body. His eyes were still closed, but I saw him bite down on his lip as if each trace from my finger awakened his skin with heat and desire.

Before I could continue my attack on his senses, each of his hands seized my waist and pulled me on top of him so I was staring into eyes the color of warm chestnut. I gasped.

“Good morning,” he growled into my ear. I felt my entire body start to melt into his.

“Good morning.” I smiled. His hands roamed over my back. His thumbs traced the lines of my shoulders, and my eyes closed in anticipation of his next touch.

“Ivy, it’s a little bright in here. Why don’t you
Extinguish
some of the sunlight or something?” He kissed my neck.

“What? What do you mean?” I pushed myself up on either side of his shoulders and stared at him. I must have misunderstood what he said.

“You know, do your witchy thing.” He smiled and instantly his lips were on my shoulder and moving over my collarbone.

Witchy? Extinguish? Oh my God. He knows. He knows—this isn’t safe.
I searched next to the bed, frantic to find my phone. I needed to call Holly. The
Eraser Spell
didn’t work. My stomach was churning, and my body, which should have been reeling from passionate kisses, was stricken by chilling fear.

I wiggled free from Jack’s strong embrace and tumbled to the floor. But it was cold and wet. I looked up to see if Jack was going to help me, but the bed was gone. Rain pelted my face. I pushed off the cobblestones beneath my knees and tried to catch my bearings. This place was undeniably familiar.

The hissing voice screeched in my ear. “We told you, witch. We told you.”

I spun on my heels and came face-to-face with a shadowed figure.

“Where’s Jack?” I demanded. My fists clenched at my side.

I thought I saw the outline of a smile on the shadow’s cloaked face. “Gone.”

“No!” I screamed, and lunged with the full force of my body into the shadows.

I sat straight up in my bed. “
Illuminate
.” I struggled to whisper into the dark. My voice caught in the back of my throat. The ball of light swished over my legs, and I exhaled a painful breath.
A dream. It was a dream
.

I released the comforter from my grip and reached for the lamp next to the bed. It was four in the morning. I walked to the bathroom and splashed water on my face. My hands were shaking as I turned the faucet.

That was just a dream, Ivy. Only a dream
.
Jack is safe in Sullen’s Grove.
I had to fight the urge to pick up my phone and call him to make sure I wasn’t talking myself into something that wasn’t true. If he could live through the past month and not mention even the slightest hint of spells or fighting off the Proxy in Las Vegas, Holly’s
Eraser Spell
had worked. And this nightmare was just that, a bad dream, not another Foresight. I had made sure Jack didn’t know about my magic, and as long as I kept it that way, he would be safe. I had to let this go.

I curled up under the covers, wrestling the chills still attacking my skin. I resolved to call Jack in the morning—I could muster a lame editing question. Until I heard his voice, I knew I wouldn’t shake the haunting sensation from the dream. I turned off the lamp, but let the illumination orb hover next to me in bed. It never hurt to have a little night light.