Sweet Evangeline (Moon Magic Book 2) (3 page)

“Tell me more about your Angel.” Evangeline and Arabella had never had secrets. Their closeness was the main reason Evangeline had worried Nanette until she had allowed her to transfer from Tulane, in New Orleans, to The University of Texas in Austin. Since the death of Evangeline’s mother, Arabella had become even more important to her.

“Oh God, Arabella, he is wonderful. And so beautiful, he just makes my heart melt. But I’m ready to find him. I don’t know why it doesn’t just happen. What are the fates waiting for?” She had told her cousin about the scrying session and how she had followed her advice and sent the call out to draw him to her. It hadn’t worked—not yet.

“We’ll talk to Mother; she’ll know what to do.  Remember how she and the others helped me connect with Jade when the only tie I had to him was in my dreams? Elizabeth is so psychic, she may be able to tell you right where to find him.”

“Yea, but then what would I do? March up to him and say, ‘Come get in my car, sweetheart. You belong to me.’” They laughed.

“Magick will work it out. You just have to have faith.” Arabella believed in love. Moreover, she had every right. Jade Landale worshipped the ground that Arabella walked on. A child was going to complete their happiness.

“Look, they’re here.” Arabella announced, thrilled to see evidence that her mother and her new stepfather had already arrived. They parked the car and no sooner than they did, the door opened and out came the newlyweds. Elizabeth and Tyler were in their forties but they looked ten years younger.

“Oh, my little girl!” Elizabeth hugged Arabella. “Pregnancy looks good on you!”

“Thanks, mother.” She kissed Tyler on the cheek. “Welcome home.”

“We’re glad to be back. Hawaii is beautiful, but there’s no place like Texas.”

Detective Tyler Garrison looked very happy. Elizabeth was good for him—unspeakably warm and sexy. Evangeline was glad they had found one another.

“Evangeline, honey.” Elizabeth took her niece by the arm. “I have been picking up the wildest vibrations from you. Tell me about him.”

Much to everyone’s surprise, Evangeline began to cry. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve done everything I know to do. And it hasn’t worked.” Elizabeth led them inside and seated Arabella in a comfortable chair and Tyler went in to put on a pot of tea for the girls.

“Come sit with me, baby.” Elizabeth patted the cushion next to her on the couch. Evangeline went to her aunt. It was times like this she missed her mother the most. It had been five years since Hurricane Katrina had taken Aimee and their grandfather, Alcee Beaureguarde, from them. The black waters that had flooded New Orleans when the levees broke, had stolen the best of the family. The cruel twist was that Aimee’s body had never been found.

Elizabeth appeared to be thinking. “What we need is a powerful love spell,” she paused and then she smiled. “I’ve got it! You sculpt don’t you?”

“As a matter of fact, my final grade will be based on a bronze that I’m making of Angel.”

“Perfect. Let me tell you what to do.”

“You are truly the most beautiful man on the face of the earth.” Evangeline ran her hands over the broadness of his shoulders and down the sensual line of his chest. The washboard ridges of his abs felt good beneath her fingers. Stepping down from the stool, she soothed the long line of his thigh. Closing her eyes, she appreciated the flow of muscles defining his strong legs. Kneeling at his feet, she caressed the luxurious shape of his awakening penis and cupped the generous scrotal sac. Everything seemed perfect to her. The last touch was the lightning bolt-shaped scar she traced on his upper thigh. Sitting back on her heels, she looked up at her creation. “If you were only flesh and blood…” Rising, she placed a quick kiss on his right shoulder, then went and washed the clay from her hands. The life-size statue was now ready for the next step in the elaborate cold-cast bronzing method.

Her Aunt Elizabeth’s suggestion had been intriguing. Usually when a love spell was cast, the magical practitioner would have something personal that belonged to the one they were trying to influence. Sometimes it would be a lock of hair, or a fingernail clipping, or even the dust from a footprint. But with Angel, she didn’t have anything physical to bring to the spell. She didn’t even have a photograph or a name. But Elizabeth had come up with a powerful substitute. She had instructed Evangeline to finish sculpting Angel. So she had, using her emotions, her passion, her magical intent—all combined to fashion a perfect likeness of her love.

And he was perfect. Her professor was so impressed by her work that she had sent out photographs of ‘Angel’ and finagled her a place in one of the premier Austin events of the year. Evangeline, just a junior at The University of Texas in Austin, had been invited to show two of her pieces at the Neumann Museum’s Gala Benefit for the city’s
Unsung Heroes
. The funds raised would be split between the Austin Fire Department and the County Emergency Medical Services. It was a very worthy cause and an honor for someone as young as Evangeline.

At first, she had been reluctant to show the pieces of Angel. It was like putting her sex-starved fantasies on display. Dr. Frederick, her art professor, had assured her that the pieces would be well received. He said that Austin was the very place to debut erotic art. She hoped he was right.

Evangeline walked around the completed replica she called
Angel
.
The six-foot-three, semi-aroused figure had been fashioned with fingers which longed to touch him in the flesh. The other piece she had created for exhibition really caused her blood pressure to spike. She had been so enthralled with her imagined lover, Evangeline had been compelled to sculpt him having sex with a woman—not any woman, mind you. She had not been able to resist the temptation to commit her dreams to the ages. Evangeline had carved an image of herself making love to Angel, and she called that piece
Rapture
.

When the statues were complete, before she had to send them to the museum, Evangeline followed her aunt’s instructions to the letter. She waited until a Friday, Venus’s special day, and then she went to her studio and got down to business. The circle would have to be cast around the sculptures, to include the physical portrayal of the one the spell was meant to summon.

Evangeline worked with purpose. After she cast the circle and called the quarters, she lit a pink candle, the color of attraction. She carved the name
Angel
, into the side of the candle, as well as a few hearts—for good measure. Anointing the candle, wick to base, with rose oil, she rolled it in ground cinnamon, placed it in the holder and lit it. On a piece of parchment paper, Evangeline wrote:

Angel, I call you forth. As my true love, your face has been revealed to me.

I bid you to step out of the shadows and into my sight. I long for you.

I pledge my heart and my life to you. Come to me.

She placed the parchment underneath the candle and then rose to circle the bronzes. With every ounce of intent she could muster, Evangeline called to her love. She walked around the statues, caressing him, willing the flesh and blood man to hear the call of her spirit. Standing in front of the creation of her own hands, Evangeline touched him. She closed her eyes and let her fingers play over the form of her beloved. She reverently kissed his chest. She embraced the cold, hard figure and envisioned the heart beating and the chest filling with oxygen, blood flowing through the veins, life emanating from lifeless material.

Evangeline stayed within the circle until the candle burned down and the light went out. Carefully closing the circle, she thanked the powers who had heard her prayer and asked a special blessing on the object of her desire, Angel.

* * * *

Eric awoke with a start. “What the hell was that?”

He could have sworn somebody called his name. However, no one called him Angel anymore, not since his mother had passed away. His mom had been something else. Even though she had lived her life as the wife of a Baptist minister, there had been a wildness to her that neither his dad nor the church had ever tamed. She had been born in the Appalachian foothills of Tennessee, bred on faith healing, folk magic and ghost stories.

Eric lay back down and smiled, thinking about Grace McAllister. She had loved him above all else. She had taught him tolerance, compassion and kindness—a different message than her hell-fire and brimstone-preaching husband had extolled. She had named him Eric Angelos McAllister, a grand name for a country boy, but to her he had always been Angel. The heartbreak had been that what made Grace special had been the very thing that his dad and the church had found unforgivable. Eric still had trouble reconciling his father’s teachings with his mother’s free-spirited acceptance of the unknown. Suffice it to be said, Eric missed his mother.

Now, Eric was hearing things. Before he had woken up, he had been dreaming about his mystery woman again. Tonight, he had tangled his fingers in long dark hair and smoothed his hands down legs of the softest silk. She had been wild for him, pushing him down, climbing on top and riding him until they had both screamed. God, he was burning up! There was no use lying here, he was hot enough to set off his own fire alarms.

He needed to get laid in the worst way, but Jessica wasn’t the woman he wanted.

He wanted the nameless, dark haired, witch of his dream.

Evangeline oversaw the packing, handling and moving of the bronzes as if someone were transporting her children. It was hard to explain to the movers how very special these pieces were to her. If the truth were known, she was scared to death. Having the world see her creation was mind-boggling, to say the least. Her cheeks flamed just imagining people looking at
Angel
and
Rapture
. They were going to think she was a sex-crazed pervert. In spite of her reservations, she had invited the whole family to come; she had even called her grandmother. And they were all coming, except for Elizabeth and Tyler. Something had come up with his family. However, the important one was her grandmother; Evangeline needed Nanette for more reasons than one.

Something was wrong - - more than just her need for Angel. Evangeline could feel it, something was terribly amiss. For weeks, she had been hearing piano music, soft haunting music coming from everywhere and yet nowhere. She had checked every room in the house. She had checked televisions, radios, computers - everything - and nothing was left on or wired wrong, there was no logical explanation for the music. When she would hear it, Evangeline would run outside, trying to determine if it was coming from a source other than one in her own home. But there was no clue - no answer.

Now the mystery had deepened - the piano music was still playing at least once a night, but last evening something different had happened. Evangeline had heard her mother’s voice. It doesn’t matter how long a mother and a child may be separated - even by the hand of death - but the child will never, ever forget the voice of its mother. Last night she had been working on her Art History homework – boring - so she was certain she had been wide-awake. She had not been dreaming.

‘Evangeline. Evangeline.’ It had been very clear, not loud, but distinct. There hadn’t been a doubt in her mind that it was Aimee. After that, the piano music made all the sense in the world. The melody, the cadence, the way she ran the chords - the piano music was being played by the soft, talented hands of her mother. All she could think of was getting Nanette and Angelique to Austin as fast as she could. She wasn’t frightened; she could never be scared of her mother - dead or otherwise. However, she was confused, she was sad, and she desperately needed somebody to hold on to.

“Grandmother, will you come to Austin? I need you.”

Those were the only words that Nanette Beaureguarde needed to hear. She loved her whole family, but Evangeline was near and dear to her heart. The only child of her beloved daughter Aimee, Evangeline was special. She was powerful. In fact, Nanette knew Evangeline did not realize how powerful she was. Evangeline was psychic, but not as psychic as the other members of her family. But she had powers the others did not. Evangeline could call down storms, she could move things with her mind, and she was even working on out-of-body travel. Living, with not only Nanette, but also Angelique - Evangeline had been well schooled in the New Orleans form of witchcraft, which more noticeably resembled hoodoo than the Celtic form of the craft.

Now, Evangeline had called for them. And they were going. They would attend the special exhibition of Evangeline‘s art and they would also work on mending her broken heart. “Angelique, Angelique! Pack our bags. We’re going to Texas.”

Angelique listened to her life-long companion as she bellowed her request/demand. If she had a diamond for every time she had heard, ‘Pack our bags, we’re going to Texas,” - she would have enough jewels to assemble a pretty decent tiara. Texas was where their family had all gravitated. Not West Texas or East Texas, but Central Texas -- the beautiful Hill Country that was rich in tradition, mysterious power and great BBQ.

She was glad that Nannette could get excited about going to see the girls. For months after Hurricane Katrina had devastated their lives and their hearts, Nannette had become just a pale reflection of her powerful persona. Angelique could remember when Nannette was the power in New Orleans. She could make the impossible happen and make doing it look easy. However when the floodwaters of Katrina had receded, so had Nannette’s will and drive.

Lately, there was more life to the old girl. They both had rushed to Arabella’s side when she had been threatened by a serial killer and they had worked together to heal a young man who had become Nannette’s grandson when he married her beloved granddaughter. During that episode, Nannette’s power had shone. She had set up a powerful ward, laid a boundary of red brick dust, healed Jade of a devastating paralysis and brought a vicious, sadistic bastard to his knees.

Angelique had seen Nanette read the future in a bowl of black water. She had seen her force an intruder out the front door by the sheer force of her will, and she had watched the old woman carefully assemble a bag of herbs and gemstones that would aid a lovesick spinster or a lonely widow. And nine times out of ten, what Nannette willed - - came to pass.

Seeing what the future held was not Angelique’s forte, unless a spirit shared the information with her. Ghosts, spirits, the souls of the dead - - that was Angelique’s lot in life and just last night she had received an amazing message from the mysterious, vast beyond. Soon, everyone they loved would be threatened. None would be spared, and no one was safe. What would happen in the future was still unknown, but what was crystal clear was that whatever was coming was strong, dead serious, and had the Beaureguarde clan in its sights.

The house Evangeline was renting was only about six blocks north of the UT campus. It was an older, two story home, and big enough for her art work and to still have room for company. She scurried around, changing sheets on the beds and checking on a loaf of blueberry bread that was baking in the oven. She loved company, and couldn‘t wait for them to arrive.

She had poured her heart out to Nanette about Aimee’s voice and the piano music. Ghosts and spirits were not out of her realm of experience. Over Christmas, at Arabella’s home -
Wildflower Way
- Angelique had connected with the spirits of several murdered women, and as a family they had brought a serial killer to justice. When she had lived in New Orleans, on Constance Street, with Nannette and Angelique, encounters with spirits were more the norm than not. Evangeline did not have Angelique’s gift. Normally, she could not see the dead, but one or two times she had experienced encounters she would never forget.

Once, when staying overnight with a friend in Baton Rouge, she had awoken to hear crying outside their bedroom window. It was such a sad sound that, at first, Evangeline had thought she was dreaming. But when the noise had persisted, she had gone to the window and to her surprise, saw a somewhat shining apparition of a little boy standing beside the tree right outside her friends’ window. Evangeline had been taken aback, but not afraid. The youngster had been wearing a Boy Scout’s uniform. He looked to be about nine years old. As she looked out at him, he had noticed her. With a gasp, he had asked, “Lady, can you see me?” When she tentatively answered him that she could - he had simply vanished. Evangeline had never forgotten the look on his face. So often, she wished that she could have helped the child - reconnected him someway - to someone he loved. But she did not get the chance.

Evangeline took the blueberry loaf from the oven and answered a persistently ringing cell phone that proclaimed Arabella was on the line. After she answered, her cousin had brought good news. “Jade wants to take everyone out to eat after the benefit tonight, so don’t make any other plans.”

“That’s sweet of Jade.” Then she confessed, “I am so nervous, Arabella.”

“Go up to your ‘craft room’ sweetie and get in your circle. Light thirteen white candles and chant to the elements asking for peace. I guarantee you it will work.”

“I’ll try.”

“What time is Grandmother and Angelique arriving?”

“They should be here in a couple of hours, then we’ll have to leave almost immediately for the benefit.” Evangeline had already had her bath, washed her hair and painted her nails. She was too nervous to just sit and wait.

Arabella let out a sigh. “I have a good feeling about tonight, sweetie. I don’t know why, but it’s going to be a night to remember.’

“I hope you’re right.” Evangeline didn’t share Arabella’s optimism.

* * * *

Eric McAllister despised black tie events. He had done everything he could to talk Chief Kirby into coercing someone else to accept the check at the
Unsung Heroes
benefit, anyone but him. She had just laughed and told him the entire company would be there to support him, but he was the best man for the job. Hell! This benefit couldn’t have come at a worse time. Eric looked at himself in the mirror, adjusted his tie and tried to blot out the image of Jessica in the arms of another man.

She had cheated on him with a college kid! Eric tried to sort through his feelings. Mainly, he was angry and embarrassed. He didn’t know why he was so upset; he and Jessica were just going through the motions. He should have just ended it along time ago. But the sick part was that everyone thought they were still a couple. They didn’t know the truth. They didn’t know the sex wasn’t that great, or that Jessica was stingy with her body. In the past, she had made Eric beg for every morsel of affection she doled out.

This wouldn’t be bothering him nearly as bad if it hadn’t happened in his own house. He had given her a key about three months prior, back when he had high hopes about their relationship. Frankly, he had forgotten she had it. She didn’t use it to come see him that often, and now he finds out she had been using his place as a love nest to meet a twenty year old! That very afternoon, he had walked into his own house and caught her grunting and groaning in his bed with another man!

The crappiest part of it all was that he hadn’t been alone when he had walked in on her. Two of his buddies had been with him and he had never been so humiliated in his life. By now, everyone probably knew Jessica had made a fool of him. The question was, what was he going to do about it? She had said she was sorry. She had said it would never happen again. She had even insisted on attending tonight’s event, draped on his arm, as if nothing was wrong. If he was anything other than the gentleman his Mom had raised, he would have told her exactly what she was and exactly what she could do with herself. Shit!

All of this mess, just reemphasized in his mind how much he wanted someone entirely different. Someone who wanted him, and wasn’t afraid to let him know. He was hungry for his dark haired siren - the one who called to him in his dreams. He wished he had ended it with Jessica a long time ago. Her explanation, of sorts, kept ringing in his ears. “It‘s just that you are so intense in bed, scary sort of, and Chip - he was sweet and not at all intimidating.” Eric didn’t really know what to make of that explanation. He intimidated her in bed? All he had done was try to please her, but she didn’t seem to want to be pleased. Irregardless, her words hadn’t pacified him; they had merely made him feel colder toward her. He let out a harsh breath. Time to just get it over with!

* * * *

“What do you make of Evangeline hearing Aimee’s voice?” Angelique asked Nanette.

“I presume she is trying to contact her daughter, maybe to warn her of something.” It broke Nanette’s heart to think of her sweet Aimee. She so hoped her daughter could rest in peace.

“When I get there, I will make this my first priority.” Angelique assured her friend.

“But we have to get through this art benefit first.”

“Did I understand you right?” Nanette Beaureguarde asked from the backseat of her black Jag. “Did you tell me these sculptures of Evangeline’s are nudes?” Evangeline’s grandmother, a fourth generation native of New Orleans, wasn’t really shocked. She just thought that, as a grandmother, she ought to put up a token protest. Actually, she was pleased.

“Yes, Nanette. Nudes. Erotic nudes,” Angelique, a beautiful woman of Creole descent explained.

“Huh! What does Evangeline know about nude men? I don’t think she has been on more than a half dozen dates in the past four years. And if she had slept with any of them - believe me - I think I would have known!”

“How would you know?” Angelique wasn’t being disrespectful or condescending. She knew Nanette was very powerful - and she didn’t doubt her - but she wanted to understand.

“I can feel when they’re happy. Like now, Elizabeth and Arabella are content and their feelings of joy and fulfillment call out to me over the miles. But Evangeline is searching. She hasn’t connected to anyone, intimately. Not in real life, anyway.”

“What are you saying, are we having another dream romance like we had between Arabella and Jade?”

“Maybe, but I don’t think it’s exactly the same. Evangeline has cast out the net, so to speak. She told me she scryed for her lover’s image and if I’m not mistaken - those nudes you’re talking about are of him. I just didn’t know they’d be naked!”

“Nudes are usually naked, Nanette,” Angelique observed, dryly.

“Well, this should be interesting. In fact - I think one of those statues just might come to life tonight.”

“How do you know?”

“How do I know anything?”

“Touché.”

“I want my baby to be happy. And a woman is never truly happy unless she has a man.”