Midnight Dolls (3 page)

The words are just starting to blur in front of my tired eyes when Aunt Bea appears at my open door and knocks lightly.

“Hey.” I feel a little hurt that she didn't come to check on me earlier. She must have heard hours ago about my encounter with the Main de Lumière soldier.

When she just stands there, I say, “Did you hear about what happened?”

She nods, her expression oddly flat. “Yes. I heard.”

“Caleb went after the guy.”

“But I also understand that you got away from him yourself.”

I nod and gesture to the journal, open in front of me. “I've been studying Mom's herbs. It's important that I learn everything I can about zandara.”

“I suppose.” She stares at the ceiling, her gaze somewhere far away. “But is that what you believe? Or is it what you're being told?”

“What?”

She shakes her head. “I mean, why are you suddenly so intent on buying into what the sosyete is telling you? Maybe you should slow down, give yourself some time to think about this before you jump in headfirst.”

I stare at her in disbelief. “Are you trying to get me killed? I'm
already
in the middle of this, whether I like it or not. And Caleb's not going to be there every time I'm in trouble. I need to start relying on myself.”

“Or you could walk away.”

“How can you say that?” I demand, frustrated. “You're the one who brought me back here!”

“Because I thought it was the right thing at the time. I thought I was giving you back a piece of your birthright, something your mom would have wanted for you. But look what I've done! I've put you in danger. There's no way to know
who to trust anymore or whose motives are pure. Everyone has their own agenda.”

“And you don't?” I ask before I can stop myself.

She blinks a few times. “My only agenda is to protect you.”

“And to discourage me from trusting anyone else.”

“I'm just warning you,” she says, looking away. “You believe in people too easily, and I think it's going to get you hurt.”

She gives me a long look and walks away without another word. I watch her go, feeling more confused than ever.

I'm still sitting on my bed, staring after her, when my father appears in my doorway. “I've talked to Peregrine's and Chloe's mothers. After the attack today, they finally agree. It's time we all make a trip to Caouanne Island. We leave first thing in the morning.”

“
C
ouldn't we have just done a conference call?” I ask with a yawn as we drive past the town gate into the murky, swampy forest that surrounds Carrefour. We're on our way to the Baton Rouge airport, where Peregrine, Chloe, and their mothers are planning to meet us.

“Carrefour's defenses have obviously been breached, so you're not safe here at the moment,” my father says, glancing over. “You'll be protected on Caouanne Island. Besides, my sosyete brothers are eager to meet you and show you how andaba works.”

In the backseat, Caleb makes a huffing sound, but he doesn't say anything.

“It's part of who you are, Eveny,” my father continues, “and the way we practice magic is very different from what you do in zandara. Besides, if the spirits we deal with see us
allied with your sosyete sisters from Carrefour, they might be willing to give us all a little more assistance.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Because our two sects have never worked together before,” my father replies. “And I have to believe that the spirits will consider us more powerful—and therefore more useful to them—as a result.”

His logic makes sense, and I can feel my heart thudding with anticipation as we park and hurry toward the airport entrance. The three of us just have carry-on bags, so we make a beeline for security. We're about to get in line when we hear a big commotion behind us. I turn, and my jaw drops when I realize it's my fellow queens arriving. Peregrine, Chloe, and their mothers, all wearing high heels, huge sunglasses, and full makeup, are striding into the airport, trailed by their protectors—Patrick, Oscar, Patrick's father, Benjamin, and Oscar's father, Anton—each of whom is pushing a cart overflowing with Louis Vuitton luggage.

Like Caleb's great-great-great-grandfather, Patrick's and Oscar's ancestors made a pact with the queens' ancestors over a hundred years ago, promising that their descendants would always guard the Queens of Carrefour, in exchange for fortune and good social standing. Apart from that, though, Patrick and Oscar couldn't be more different from Caleb: they chew tobacco, spit, and sometimes talk in Cajun accents so thick it doesn't sound like they're speaking English. But they're reliable guardians and take their jobs seriously.

Peregrine and Chloe are wearing minidresses and leather jackets, while their mothers are in silk pants and low-cut tops. They look like they're jetting off to the French Riviera. Caleb and I exchange looks as the group of queens gets closer, and although I know they're the ones being ridiculous, I feel frumpier than usual in my faded jeans, vintage Ramones T-shirt, and Converse.

“Is that another one of your ironic outfits, Eveny?” Peregrine asks, looking me up and down before air-kissing me on both cheeks.

“It's just comfortable for flying,” I say, looking down self-consciously.

My father puts a hand on my back and says, “Come on, let's get to the gate. The others will be right behind us.”

By the time the other queens and their protectors check in and make it through security, the flight is about to close. They just barely make it onto the plane, and I try not to laugh as they step aboard one by one and realize that not only are they not sitting together, but they're all in middle seats.

“We requested first class,” Peregrine's mother says stiffly to a flight attendant.

“First class is full, ma'am,” the woman replies. “You're in 28B.”

Peregrine's mother looks horrified, but she manages to squash her Louis Vuitton tote into an overhead and climb over a hefty woman who's sitting on the aisle. “This is not what I'm accustomed to,” she says, but everyone ignores her.

The flight takes off, and somehow Peregrine manages to talk the man next to me into letting her switch seats. I'm sure it doesn't hurt that she's batting her eyes like crazy, talking in a high, breathy voice, and leaning forward to give him a view of her cleavage. As soon as the fasten seat belt light goes off, she unbuckles and slides in next to me as the man, still staring at her appreciatively, wedges himself into her just-vacated seat across the aisle.

“I'm sure your father's sosyete brothers are eager to sink their claws into you,” Peregrine says once she's strapped in. “So are you planning to cross over to the dark side and abandon us?” She reaches casually into her tote and pulls Audowido out, placing him on her lap. He fixes his beady eyes on me and hisses in greeting.

“Of course I'm not going to abandon you. And how on earth did you get your snake through security?”

Peregrine shrugs. “Flirtation gets me a long way. You should try it sometime.”

Chloe turns around and peers at us between the seats. “Actually, she cast a charm on the TSA agents,” she whispers, just as the woman sitting on my right sees Audowido and recoils in horror.

“Peregrine . . . ,” I say in warning.

She sighs and reaches for her Stone of Carrefour. “Ceylon moss to make him unseen, black mustard seed to confuse onlookers. Spirits, please make Audowido disappear to anyone who's not in on the Secret of Carrefour.”

I feel a subtle shift of air pressure—which is unsettling at ten thousand feet—and instantly, the woman beside me relaxes. “How strange!” she says. “I could have sworn you were holding a snake. But it's only your sweater.”

“A mistake anyone could make,” Peregrine says with a cold smile. “Now,” she says, turning back to me, “where were we? Oh yes, I was talking about how your father's sosyete brothers were going to try to poach you. What, are we not good enough for you?”

“Peregrine, you're being ridiculous. I'm not going anywhere.”

She gives me a look. “And yet we're all on a flight to Georgia, aren't we?”

“Look, it's complicated. But Carrefour is always going to come first, okay? It's where my mom's from, and that means everything to me.”

Peregrine is quiet as Audowido slithers around her shoulders. “Time will tell, I guess.”

Four hours and one connection in Atlanta later, most of our entourage is striding through the main doors of the Savannah/Hilton Head International Airport while Oscar, Patrick, and their fathers wait at baggage claim for the queens' luggage.

A white stretch Hummer pulls up to the curb less than a minute after we step outside into the humid afternoon. A tall man in his forties with light brown hair and deeply tanned skin gets out of the back, wearing chinos, boat shoes, and a
button-down madras shirt. “Matthias!” he exclaims, pulling my dad into a hug.

My father looks happy to see him, and after they back away from each other, he introduces the man to us. “This is Simon, my sosyete brother,” he tells us. “He's one of Caouanne Island's kings, like me.”

“Guilty as charged,” Simon says with a grin. There's something vaguely familiar about him, but I can't put my finger on what it is. “We're all so grateful that y'all made the trip here so quickly. Didn't you bring your protectors?”

“Eveny's protector, Caleb, is here,” my father says as Caleb nods in greeting and shakes Simon's hand. I see Simon looking Caleb up and down as my father adds, “The others are retrieving the luggage.”

“You checked luggage?” Simon asks. “But it's just a two-day visit, right?”

“
We
didn't check luggage,” my father says, glancing at Peregrine, Chloe, and their mothers, who are standing in a cluster on the sidewalk. Chloe's mom is absentmindedly filing her nails; Peregrine is putting on lipstick in a compact mirror, and her mom is reapplying powder. It's like they're deliberately being disrespectful. Suddenly, I can feel the beginnings of a headache coming on.

Simon exchanges looks with my father, then he opens the door for us and gestures to the inside of the SUV limo. “No time to waste. Get in. I'll go check on your things.”

It takes fifteen minutes for the Louis Vuitton bags to come off the conveyor belt and another hour to get to the docks on
the coast of Georgia. Simon and my dad talk in hushed tones through much of the ride while Chloe, Peregrine, and their mothers drink champagne and act like they're on vacation. Caleb stares out the window, and I try hard not to keep stealing glances at him.

During the drive, Simon, who sits in back with us as a lower-level sosyete member drives, plays tour guide as he tells us about the island my dad calls home.

“
Caouanne
is the French word for a loggerhead turtle,” he tells us. “Turtles, which are abundant off the coast of Georgia, are as important and magical to andaba as snakes are to zandara.”

Audowido hisses at this, and Peregrine makes a face as Simon continues. “Much like Carrefour, Caouanne Island is protected from outsiders by both geography and magic. We're out in the ocean, some three miles from the coast, so physically, we're isolated. But the island is also surrounded by charms so that boaters can't see it unless they're within one hundred yards of our shores. Otherwise, it's cloaked in mist and looks like a stormy area that should be avoided.”

“Don't people sometimes run aground by accident anyhow?” Chloe says. “Like how people sometimes arrive at Carrefour's gate because they've taken a wrong turn?”

“Occasionally, although it's rare,” Simon says. “But from the outskirts of the island, it looks uninhabited and overgrown. There are only a few narrow paths into town, and those are hard to find. Plus the protective charms around the outside of the island alert us anytime the perimeter is breached.”

We drive through a deserted-looking marshy area and emerge at a wooden dock on an inlet. There's a state-of-the-art yacht glistening in the late afternoon sunshine ahead of us. The driver stops the car, and Simon motions for us all to get out. “The boat'll be a bit of a tight squeeze, since I didn't anticipate you bringing two months' worth of luggage,” Simon says. “But we'll be all right. It'll take us just thirty minutes to get from here to the island. Everybody in.”

We file into the boat, and the guy who was driving the Hummer, who Simon quickly introduces as Nick, slides into the captain's chair. Minutes later, we're pulling out of the inlet, into the wide-open Atlantic. Just like Simon said, I can't see anything that even remotely resembles land until we're almost upon it.

“Welcome to Caouanne Island,” Simon says as the milky fog parts and a lush green forest seems to spring from the middle of the ocean in front of us. Nick navigates the yacht into a small channel among the trees and Simon leaps easily from the bow onto a dock to help pull the boat in and secure it. “Ladies first,” he says once the boat has stopped moving. He offers Chloe a hand and helps her onto the dock.

I'm the last to disembark, and as Simon takes my hand and gives me a boost off the boat, I could swear I hear him say, “Welcome home.”

There's another stretch Hummer waiting beyond the trees, and after the guys load up the luggage and we all climb in,
we set off down a dirt road that seems to wind deeper into a darkening forest.

“I can see why people would think the island is uninhabited,” I say as the branches and boughs of the trees scrape the windows and the roof.

“Just wait,” Simon says, adding a moment later, “Here we are.”

We all strain to see out the windows as we enter a small downtown area that looks like an upscale seaside fishing village. It's spotless, with pristine, old-fashioned storefronts, late Victorian architecture, and impeccably dressed people strolling down the street.

Soon we arrive at a stately southern mansion just on the other side of the town center. It's pale yellow with shiny white shutters, wrought iron balcony rails, and ivy creeping up the two broad columns that support the roof of the front porch. The lawn is bright green and perfectly trimmed, and the front garden is lined with maroon and white roses. I like it immediately; it's much more modern-looking than the sweeping Gothic mansions the Marceaus, the St. Pierres, and I live in.

We step through the front door, and I'm startled to feel an inexplicable sense of familiarity—not like I've been here before but like I somehow belong anyway. It's not until I turn to my left and see a huge painting of my mother holding me as an infant that I realize why. “This is your house?” I say, turning to my father.

He smiles sadly and nods at the painting. “Your mom had
that commissioned and sent to me as a gift a few months after you were born. It made me feel like you were nearby, even when the two of you were far away.”

I turn back to the painting, and for a moment I feel an overwhelming sense of sorrow for my parents. My mother's eyes are mournful, even though she's smiling. I know without asking that she was grieving for the husband she'd had to part with for reasons beyond her control.

My father glances once more at the painting. “I'll show you around in a bit, but for now, my sosyete is waiting. Shall we go meet with them first?” Without waiting for an answer, he beckons us to follow him down a long hallway. Caleb falls back with Oscar and Patrick as Peregrine and Chloe link their arms through mine.

“So this place is kind of yours too,” Peregrine says as we pass impressionist paintings in gilt frames and intricately etched bell-shaped vases on pedestals.

I shrug. “I guess.”

“How lovely for you,” Peregrine says flatly, exchanging glances with Chloe.

“I'm not abandoning you, if that's what you're worried about,” I tell them, but Chloe doesn't seem to hear me, and Peregrine just shrugs and looks away.

The hallway spills us into a big, open room with soaring ceilings and arched windows that overlook a huge, sprawling garden in the backyard. Four people—one man and three women—are sitting around a long, rectangular wooden table
with another dozen empty chairs set up around it. They rise when we walk in.

“Welcome back, Matthias,” says one of the women, who's tall, slender, and beautiful with chestnut hair and high cheekbones. Her eyes rest on him before she turns to the rest of us and says, “And welcome, all of you, to Caouanne Island. Please, make yourselves comfortable. We're so happy to have you.”