Serendipity: A Bayou Magic Novel Read online

  “Hey, you’re okay. I’ve got you.”

  “What if you weren’t here?” I pull back, just far enough to look up into his face. “What would I have done?”

  “You never have to know,” he says simply. “Because I am here, and I’m not going anywhere. I think, for the time being, these mirrors should be covered.”

  “Yeah, I agree.”

  Suddenly, the nausea is back, so much worse than before, and I know.

  I don’t know how, I just do.

  “Shit,” I whisper and quickly move to the door.

  But rather than a photograph on the stoop, there’s a man.

  A body.

  Missing his eyes.

  I stumble backward, screaming in terror.

  I can hear Jackson speaking. Is he talking to me? No, he’s on the phone.

  I can’t look away from the dead man on the doorstep.

  “Get here. Fast.”

  He tosses his phone onto a nearby chair and yanks me to him.

  “He was distracting us,” I say into Jackson’s chest. “So he could leave this here.”

  “I know.” He strokes his hand down my hair. “I know, baby. They’re on their way. They’ll be here in minutes. They were all at Witches Brew.”

  I nod and stare down at him. “I don’t know him.”

  Someone slashed his throat. His mouth gapes open. And, like the Polaroids, he’s missing his eyes.

  My goddess, why the eyes? It’s so damn fucking creepy.

  Jack’s right. The others arrive quickly, and I hear Cash speaking into his phone, already barking out orders.

  “Gods,” Lucien says and turns to Millie. “We need to cast a spell so passersby can’t see this.”

  “Let’s do it,” Millie says, and I watch as they join hands and cast the circle. They’re beautiful to watch together.

  “What happened, exactly?” Cash asks.

  We recount everything that happened over the past few minutes. “And then I opened the door and found him. I screamed a lot.”

  “I’m sure he took great pleasure in that,” Millie says with a sigh. “And how, exactly, is he doing this?”

  “He’s stronger than ever before,” Brielle says. “He’s taking his victims’ energy. He’s growing stronger each day. And the eclipse is still a week away.”

  Suddenly, we’re submerged in darkness. I can’t see the others. I can’t even hear them.

  It’s as though I’m alone in a pitch-black room.

  “More parlor tricks?” I ask loudly. “More scare tactics?”

  And then I remember. Recite the spell. If the others are doing it, too, then we can cast him out.

  I take a deep breath and do my best to remember it all.

  “Lord and Lady, lend me your might.

  Guardians of the watchtowers, make this—”

  I only get two lines in when the darkness disappears, and we’re all standing in my shop, looking at each other.

  “Wow, that spell is powerful,” Brielle says. “We barely got any of it out before he was gone.”

  “Same,” I say, nodding. “It worked.”

  “No.” Lucien’s voice and face are both grim as he shakes his head. “No, it didn’t work. He’s playing with us.”

  There’s laughter all around us, and then the darkness descends again, even blacker than before.

  I can’t see the others. I can’t even sense if they’re nearby.

  So, I start the spell once more.

  “Lord and Lady, lend me your might.

  Guardians of the watchtowers, make this right.

  Ancestors and guides, hear my plea…”

  Suddenly, I hear loud, maniacal laughter—as if he’s heard the funniest joke of his life.

  “Do you think that works on me?” he demands in a booming voice. “Lord and Lady, lend me your might.”

  He’s mocking, using a high-pitched singsong voice.

  “You’re pathetic. I could simply kill you where you stand. And I should. Because you’ve defied me at every turn.”

  Oh, Goddess, I’m drowning. I can’t catch my breath. I can’t get to the surface of the water. I thrash about, searching for relief.

  And just when the edges of my mind go dark, I’m free.

  I fall and struggle for breath, gasping. I blink at the bright light coming in through the windows.

  “Are you okay?” Jackson asks as he hurries to gather me up. “Daphne, are you okay?”

  “He was drowning me,” I say at last.

  “I was on fire,” Brielle adds. “It felt like someone set me on fire.”

  “Hanging,” Millie says, rubbing her neck. “I was hanging from a noose.”

  Lucien swears and pulls his wife close. We’re all embracing, trying to regroup.

  “I was being stabbed, over and over again,” Jackson says.

  “I had my throat slit,” Cash adds.

  Everyone turns their eyes to Lucien.

  “Stoned.” He clears his throat. “I was being stoned to death. Crushed.”

  “What in the hell?” I demand.

  “It’s how we’ve all died in the past,” Lucien explains. “In different lifetimes, we died that way. I don’t understand how he knows that, but he’s showing it to us.”

  “A threat?” Cash asks. “A way of saying: ‘If you don’t do what I want, I’ll just do this to you again.’”

  “Maybe,” Millie says.

  “How did it stop?” I ask. “What made it all stop and drive him away?”

  “It could be that he ran out of energy,” Jackson suggests. “But one thing is very clear. The protection spells and crystals don’t work this time. He’s too strong. And even though we’re formidable when we’re together, it’s not enough.”

  “I won’t lose,” I say, shaking my head. “I will not let him win this time.”

  “We have one week to get ready,” Lucien says. “We need to study, and we need to be with others who may know more than we do.”

  “Looks like an impromptu witches’ conference is about to hit New Orleans,” Brielle says. “Because that’s the best idea I’ve heard in a long time.”

  * * *

  “I’m scared.” It’s a whispered admission in the dark as Jack and I lie in bed. We spent the day telling the story of what happened this morning over and over again, trying to pick it apart and figure out what the next moves are. “And I’m not alone. I saw the fear in Miss Sophia’s eyes today, and she’s never scared, Jack.”

  “She’s worried.”

  “She’s afraid. You can’t deny it.”

  “I think we’re all uneasy about this,” he says and rolls me onto my back so he can look down at me. He brushes my hair off my cheek. “It makes sense that this third round is the most difficult. That he would escalate like this. It sucks, and it’s not fair, but I don’t think anything about this is exactly fair.”

  “No. It’s not.” I lightly brush my fingertip over his Adam’s apple.

  “You’re formidable, Daphne. You’re smart, you have a gift, and you have it in you to defeat this monster. You do,” he insists when I start to shake my head. “You just need your confidence. Stop second-guessing yourself. Stop letting him scare you.”

  “If you’re not scared, you’re not human,” I insist.

  “I’m just saying. You’re the boss here. You are. Not him. The next time he shows you your father, kick some ass. The next time he tries to bully you, kick him in the balls.”

  “There’s a lot of violence in this pep talk,” I say but smile and kiss his chin. “I get it. Stop cowering and stand up for myself. Stop giving in to the bully.”

  “Yeah. Exactly. We can do this. And we’re about to gather all the tools and weapons we need to win not only the battle but also the war.”

  “I guess we’d better get some sleep then, huh?”

  He kisses me softly. “We have a little time.”

  And in the dark, he reminds me of who we are together.

  Chapter Seventeenr />
  “I saw the light over the confessional, and the voice said: That’s the person to kill.”

  -Herbert Mullin

  “If you want something done right,” he says as he stalks around the living room in the body he’s inhabited, his hands fisting, his breath coming fast, “you have to do it your damn self.”

  He’s been using this one anyway. As an errand runner, mostly. He hasn’t used him for energy because he needs this toy to be strong.

  How else can he deliver corpse gifts to his Daphne? The photos?

  Yes, this toy has done well. He’s a man, much stronger than that little bitch he used before. And the link he has to the girls isn’t lost on Horace.

  It only makes it that much more fun.

  He walks to the mirror in the dirty bathroom and grins at himself.

  Yes, he recognizes the face.

  And so will the girls when the time is right.

  “We have much to do,” he says to his reflection. “We have to punish them first. They’re so obstinate right now. But, I suppose, kids will be kids. Still, we need to show them discipline, and punishment is part of that.”

  Now that he has a body again, he’ll be able to feel the work with his hands. The thought fills him with impatience and the need to get started right away.

  It’s going to be a delight—an absolute joy.

  A smile spreads over his face.

  “Yes, we have much to do. First, we need some supplies. As excited as I am to get started, you just don’t have the facilities I need. But not to worry. We can fix that easily enough. It won’t take long.

  “Now, the first thing we need is a workbench. And a very sharp knife.”

  * * *

  They’re mewling behind him in that way the toys always do when they’re afraid. He’d missed that—almost as much as he missed using the knife on the toys.

  “Girls,” he says as he turns to them. He can’t help but smile. The remaining four are just so beautiful. “You must calm down now. I know, you’re excited. I am, too. But we can’t rush. I admit I went a little too fast with those first two. But, oh, it just felt so wonderful to get back to work. Now, shush. Just relax. You’ve only been here for one day.”

  He smiles kindly. There are two redheads, and they were hard to find. It’s true that gingers are scarce in the population, so he had to hunt a bit for these two. And now, they’re too precious to waste. He’ll hold them for a while.

  The other two, one blonde and the other brunette, sit huddled together. They’re real sisters, which only makes him even more elated.

  “Yes, this is exactly as it should be.” He turns from them and whistles for a moment as he lays his freshly cleaned tools on the brand-new workbench. “It was fun to play through the mirrors, but this is so much more efficient. Especially given how much you’ve disappointed me lately.”

  He turns and frowns at the girls.

  “Don’t worry. You’ll receive your punishments. Then, all will be well. Millie.” He turns with a bright smile. “Let’s have a little fun, shall we?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jackson

  “We’re fighting an evil spirit, not vampires,” Daphne says to Millie, who’s currently coating bread with butter and garlic to go into the oven. “That’s a lot of garlic, Mill.”

  “And it’s good for you,” Millie replies, adds just a touch more garlic out of principle, and then slides the pan into the oven. “Besides, it wards off evil, and it’s hard to use in spells, so I’m feeding it to you.”

  “Oh, good. Give me extra garlic.” I wink at Millie as I carry the dishes and silverware into the dining room so I can set the table for dinner. I didn’t grow up with a big family, but I always had a lot of people around when I was in the Army, so prepping for big meals hasn’t been that big of an adjustment.

  Brielle follows me with napkins.

  “Cash is on his way here from the station,” she says. “He got called in this morning, even though his boss gave him the okay to take a couple of weeks of personal time. He wouldn’t tell me what was so important, and I know we’re not supposed to go anywhere alone, but it’s been so quiet for a few days.”

  “I don’t trust it,” Daphne says as she joins us, carrying a steaming pot of pasta. “It’s been too quiet. How do we go from constant onslaught of awful to just nothing?”

  “Maybe he’s playing with us again,” Millie suggests and smiles at Lucien, who joins us, as well. He’s been in his home office all day. “Anything?”

  “No.”

  We have close to a hundred witches planning to come to New Orleans to help us during the eclipse in just a few days.

  In the meantime, he’s spent many hours on video calls with many other highly experienced witches, trying to come up with the best plan for the eclipse.

  He looks damn tired, and I feel guilty. He’s already fought his fight. This one is on Daphne and me. I feel like I should be doing more.

  “Where are the others?” Daphne asks as she looks around the table. “Is it just the six of us for dinner tonight?”

  “Mama, Miss Sophia, Oliver, and Miss Annabelle had dinner in the garden earlier,” Millie says. “And they went for a long walk. Said they needed to get out for a bit.”

  “Cash said to get started eating without him,” Brielle says as she dishes up her plate with spaghetti and bread. “He’s in traffic. He’ll eat when he gets here.”

  “It’ll be hot for him,” Millie says as we settle in to eat dinner.

  “I don’t trust how quiet it’s been,” I say, at last, breaking the silence and picking up the conversation from earlier. “It’s been three days with nothing. We’re going to work, living our lives, and it’s as if everything is just normal.”

  “And you’re complaining?” Brielle asks. “I say enjoy the break while we have it because I’m pretty sure when he decides to start in again, it won’t be simple. And it won’t be easy.”

  “I don’t like it, either,” Millie says. “I keep looking over my shoulder, jumping at the littlest things. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

  “It’s another mind game,” Lucien says. “And that’s what he’s been doing this whole time, right? Playing with our heads? Well, this time, after he scared the hell out of everyone, he stops and lets us get comfortable and confident again before starting back in for another round.”

  “I know I say this a lot,” I chime in, “but he’s a sick son of a bitch.”

  “Well, yeah,” Millie says. “Of course, he is. I guess there’s nothing we can do. Just go about our business unless something happens.”

  The frustration is powerful. And constant. I hate that Daphne is always afraid. That she questions herself. I want this over for her.

  For all of us.

  “I know it’s a lot of garlic,” Brielle says as she takes a bite of bread, “but man, it’s good.”

  Headlights cast a glow through the room, and Brielle grins.

  “Cash is home.”

  “Is it dark out already?” Daphne says with a frown. “And the others are still out walking?”

  “They’re fine,” I assure her. “Four witches together, especially those four, is formidable.”

  “You’re right.”

  Our heads come up when Cash walks into the dining room, his computer gripped under one arm.

  His expression looks grim.

  His eyes search for Brielle and then soften when he finds her.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks her husband. “Why did they call you in today?”

  “We have six new missing persons cases. All women between the ages of twenty-five and thirty.”

  His mouth firms into a hard line as he opens his computer, taps some keys, and then turns the screen so we can all see.

  The air seems to leave the room.

  Millie gasps.

  Brielle hangs her head in her hands.

  Looking out at us from the screen are six women. Two redheads, three blondes, and one brunette.r />
  “She looks familiar,” Millie says and points to one of the redheads.

  “Of course, she does,” Cash replies. “She looks like Daphne. They all look familiar.”

  “He’s back to this now?” Daphne demands and stands to pace the room. “He’s back to kidnapping and torturing girls?”

  “We don’t know that he’s torturing them,” I say, but the woman I love whirls on me with fire in her eyes.

  “That’s what he does,” she says. “He hurts and kills people, Jack.”

  “I know. I was trying to stay positive.”

  “My goddess,” Millie says softly. “He just keeps changing the game.”

  “We knew things were changing when we found that corpse in front of Daphne’s doorway,” I remind everyone. “And the one thing this asshole is consistent about is being inconsistent. He is playing with us.”

  Brielle stands and joins Daphne at the window. Both sisters have their arms folded across their chests and are staring out at the street.

  “Oh, God.” Brielle’s voice is suddenly shaking and full of fear.

  “What is it?” Cash asks and hurries to her.

  “You don’t see them, do you?” Brielle points outside. We all join her, but I don’t see anything but a sidewalk. “The girls.”

  “Oh, B,” Millie says and brushes her hand down her sister’s hair. “How many?”

  “Two.” Brielle turns back to the open computer on the table. “I can’t be one hundred percent certain because they’re missing their eyes, but I think it’s these two.”

  She gestures to one blonde and the brunette.

  “I recognize the scar on the chin of this one, and the hair on the blonde.”

  Cash wraps her up in a big hug, his face full of anger and fear. “Is that it? Just the eyes are gone?”

  She shakes her head and takes a long, deep breath. “No. One was hanged. The noose is still around her neck. And the other… Well, let’s just say he really has a thing for disemboweling.”

  “Jesus,” I mutter and wipe my hand over my face. “Is this what happened before?”