Serendipity: A Bayou Magic Novel Read online

  I trust few people more than I do Oliver.

  And it shames me that I’ve stayed away for as long as I have. I should have come home to New Orleans more often. I should have checked in with him—made more of an effort.

  “You were angry,” he says softly and then turns those wise brown eyes to me.

  “Reading my mind again?” I sigh and sip the last of my coffee. “Yeah. I was angry.”

  “I don’t feel the anger in you as much.”

  I shake my head. “Worry. I’m worried now. And ready to do what needs to be done to be with Daphne.”

  “Won’t be easy.”

  I slide my gaze his way, studying the gray that slipped into his dark hair while I was gone. He has a few more wrinkles in his dark skin, and he moves a little slower than he used to.

  And being with him makes me more comfortable than I’ve felt in years.

  “If it were easy, it wouldn’t be worth it.” I set down my mug and lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “You know what’s coming.”

  “I do,” he agrees. “Doesn’t matter what I know—or what anyone else knows for that matter. It’s what you’re going to do about it. What the six of you are gonna do.”

  “Yeah.” I blow out a breath and check the time. “Hell, you know what’s going to happen, but I don’t understand it at all. I need answers. She should be at her shop. I’ll go get this whole thing started.”

  “Be patient,” Oliver warns me.

  “Never been good at that.” Still, I smile and pat Oliver on the shoulder before walking through the house to gather my keys and wallet and then make my way out to my car.

  I was supposed to leave town a couple of weeks ago, to start a new job in Idaho. Now that I’m out of the Army and its war zones and no longer moving all the time, it’s time to lay down roots somewhere.

  But when it was time to go, I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t leave Louisiana in the rearview mirror.

  I couldn’t leave Daphne.

  I drive through the city to the little antique shop she owns on the edge of the French Quarter. Reflections is a beautiful place, stuffed to the gills with everything from furniture to tiny tea sets. If it’s old, Daph sells it.

  Which is crazy to me. How does she not go insane? How can she touch so many things, experience what she must with each piece, and not lose her mind?

  I grip the door handle to her store, and a premonition floods me. The edges of my vision go gray, and I’m suddenly inside the shop, looking up from the counter as a man walks into the store and crosses to me. His head is down, and I can’t make out his face.

  “May I help you?”

  It’s Daphne’s voice, cheerful and ready to be of service to the customer.

  But rather than answer, the guy looks up at her—at me—and he’s missing his eyes.

  I blink rapidly as the vision leaves me and swear under my breath.

  Jesus.

  I push through the door, and the little bell above it rings musically. She’s diffusing clove and lemon oil for protection, and I can smell a hint of coffee in the air, as well.

  “I’ll be right with you,” Daphne calls out from a room just behind the cash register. “Make yourself at home.”

  I don’t say anything. I just push my hands into the pockets of my jeans and look around at what Daphne has done here.

  It’s impressive. According to Google and its two-hundred five-star ratings, she’s built a business that is unique, fun, and boasts quality products―and she’s not yet thirty.

  I’m not surprised. Daphne wouldn’t settle for anything less.

  “So sorry to keep you waiting.” She’s out of breath as she hurries through the door. She has her red hair pulled back in a braid, but little strands of the auburn locks have worked themselves loose to frame her sweet face. Her cheeks are flushed, and her brow glistens with just a hint of sweat. “I had to wrestle an old trunk open. I don’t think anyone’s opened that sucker in fifty years, and—”

  She comes to an abrupt stop when she sees that I’m her visitor.

  Pleasure reaches her blue eyes first, and that fills my chest with hope. Unfortunately, guarded irritation quickly replaces it.

  “Hi, Daph.”

  “Jack, I don’t—”

  “I know. You don’t want to talk to me.” I shake my head and turn from her so I don’t rush over to her and wrap my arms around her. God, I’ve missed her. And she’s as beautiful now, maybe even more so, than the first day I met her. “I know. But I need to talk to you, and you’ve been avoiding me like the damn plague.”

  “I’ve made it a habit to avoid unpleasant things.”

  Her toothy grin is anything but humorous.

  “Point taken.” Regret suddenly fills me. I wish I’d handled things differently years ago. “I want to talk to you about Millie’s reception.”

  Daphne’s older sister, Millie, married Lucien several weeks ago, but their reception and party was just three days ago. I was surprised to receive an invitation, but when I thought it over, it made sense.

  Millie’s part of the coven that I grew up in. I’ve known her for a long time.

  Something quite powerful ties us together, and because of that, we have a bond.

  “What about it?” Daphne asks, and I see the fatigue in her eyes when she sighs.

  “You saw what I did.” I swallow and have to stop myself from reaching for her again when I see fear cloud her eyes. “You saw it.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  She moves to walk past me, but I catch her elbow in my grasp. A vision immediately fills my mind.

  Fire.

  Wind.

  Chaos.

  Fear.

  She pulls back and narrows her eyes at me.

  “We don’t have anything to say to each other, Jack.”

  “Yes, we do. And you damn well know it. You know,” I insist and shove my hand through my hair. “Yes, I messed up years ago, and you’d rather see the back of me than be nice. I get it. But, damn it, something’s happening. It’s escalating, and I need you to talk to me. I can’t keep you safe like this, not with you closing me out.”

  “And why, pray tell, would you want to keep me safe?” Her voice drips with sarcasm. “You don’t even like me.”

  “That’s not true.” I love her so much it makes me ache. “You saw the vision at the party. Every single person, standing there as if in a trance, without their eyes.”

  She stumbles, and when she turns those hot eyes to me again, they’re wide and full of fear.

  “What did you say?”

  “You heard me.” I watch her swallow hard. “You saw it. You went pale, and your pulse was thrumming in your neck. I saw that. Do you think I don’t notice those things?”

  “Look.” Daphne walks to a lamp and straightens the lampshade. Her lips twitch into a small smile at the touch. “You made it clear years ago that you don’t want anything to do with me.”

  “And I’ve done nothing but try to talk to you for weeks. To ask you to listen. I know things, Daph. I’ve been seeing things for months now. And it’s getting worse.”

  “You’ve always seen things.” She waves her hand, dismissing me.

  “No. I cut that part of myself off after I left New Orleans.” I rub my hand over my lips in frustration. “I had to. Had to turn it all off.”

  “Why?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I bound it, but things, visions, are breaking through my shields, and I know it’s no coincidence that it’s you I see in them. Us. With your sisters and their husbands.”

  She’s quiet for a long moment and then sighs deeply, lowering herself onto a small, purple sofa before rubbing her fingertips over her forehead as if she’s trying to rub away a headache.

  “I hoped for more time,” she says at last.

  “More time for what?” I cross to her but don’t touch her. I know it wouldn’t be welcome. “I was with you and the others at Witch
es Brew when it seemed all hell broke loose. And even though I wasn’t invited to the Samhain ritual during the blue moon, I know something happened there.”

  “Did Oliver tell you?” she asks softly, but I can see in her eyes that she already knows the answer.

  “No. I watched it all unfold in my head, Daph. And I know, deep down, that something’s about to happen. Something big. I just don’t know what it is.”

  She nods. “Okay. I guess, whether I like it or not, it’s time. We had a whole year between what happened with Brielle and the mess with Millie. I hoped for the same.”

  “You have to tell me what’s going on. I deserve to know, especially if it involves me.”

  “I hate that you’re right.” She stands and spares a glance for the couple who just walked into her shop. “But I can’t do this here. I need to work. Let’s meet at Witches Brew later tonight after Millie closes. We’ll explain everything to you.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  I turn to leave but then look back at her. “It’s not true, you know. What you said.”

  She quirks a brow.

  “I don’t dislike you. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved, Daphne. That hasn’t changed.”

  “Excuse me?” a middle-aged man with silver hair interrupts. “Can I ask you a question about this umbrella stand?”

  Daphne’s eyes don’t leave mine as she answers him. “Of course. I’ll be right with you.”

  “I’ll let you work.” I wink at her and move toward the door. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  I leave the shop and walk to my car. When I glance into the big front window of Reflections, I see Daphne still watching me.

  * * *

  “I know we’re late,” Brielle announces as she and her husband, Cash, rush into Millie’s café. Cash locks the door behind them.

  I’m sitting at the coffee counter, taking them all in. Millie and Lucien move, touch, and look at each other as though they’ve been a couple for many years—certainly longer than the few months I know they’ve been together. Brielle laughs with Daphne as they chat about their days.

  The three sisters couldn’t be more different—at least physically. Brielle, the eldest, has dark hair with blue eyes and a curvy figure. Millie is tall and willowy with long, blonde locks. And my Daphne has that fiery, curly red hair and a petite body that makes my mouth water.

  But despite the lack of resemblance, they share an unbreakable bond—a fierce loyalty and love.

  “It’s good to see you,” Brielle says and pats me on the shoulder. I glance warily at Daphne.

  The last time Daph saw me with Brielle, she was livid. Felt betrayed.

  And that only added fuel to the fire of her animosity toward me.

  “You, too.”

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Millie says to me as she wipes down the counter.

  I glance at Lucien, who just grins and leans over to kiss his bride on the cheek.

  “First, why don’t you tell us all why you’ve been so insistent on speaking with Daphne?” Brielle suggests. “Aside from the personal stuff you share, of course. Not that we don’t want to hear about that, but it’s probably none of our business.”

  “Definitely none of your business,” Cash says, earning a glare from his wife.

  “Since I don’t know Cash well, I’ll start back a ways.” I wipe my hand over my face and test my shields.

  They’re strong.

  “I grew up in the coven, just like Lucien.”

  “You’re a witch?” Cash asks.

  “Not a practicing one, no. Not for a long while, anyway. My gift was always premonitions. I was able to see things before they happened.”

  “You could win the lottery with that,” Cash suggests, and I laugh.

  “It doesn’t really work that way, unfortunately. It’s more visions of events before they happen. Have you ever had a sense of déjà vu? Like you think to yourself, I’ve done this before.”

  “Of course.”

  “We all have a little precognition in us,” Lucien says before taking a sip of coffee.

  “We’re having coffee?” Daphne demands. “Give me.”

  Millie gets to work filling a cup for her sister.

  “Precognition is my thing.” I stand, shove my hands into my pockets, and pace the café. “Or, it was. I’ve worked hard to block that part of myself for quite a long time. I was in the Army. Let me just tell you, it sucks ass when you know in advance when your buddies are going to die in action.”

  “Jesus,” Cash breathes.

  “I built shields, worked a couple of spells. I even spent a whole evening on the phone with Miss Sophia, and she helped me, too. I haven’t seen anything in years.”

  “Until recently,” Lucien guesses.

  “Until a few months ago,” I agree. “And no matter what I do, I can’t block it. It’s fire and brimstone. Despair. Pain. It’s the scariest shit I’ve ever seen in my damn life, and trust me when I say, I’ve seen some shit.”

  “Do you see the outcome?” Millie asks, sounding almost desperate.

  “No. And I don’t know if what I’m seeing is what will happen or if it’s what may happen. I asked Miss Sophia about it, and she said it’s not for her to tell me. I don’t know what happened on Halloween night, not exactly. But I can tell you that I was drenched in sweat all evening, couldn’t catch my breath, and then, suddenly, it was just…gone.”

  “Fascinating,” Lucien says.

  “I know one thing,” I continue. “In every vision, I see Daphne. I see the six of us. And it’s damn frustrating that I don’t know why. I’ve been trying to get Daph to speak to me, but we have…history.”

  The woman I love frowns down into her coffee.

  “It’s escalating quickly,” Brielle murmurs.

  “What is?” I demand. “What in the hell is going on?”

  “A battle a millennium in the making,” Lucien informs me. “We’ve done this over many lifetimes—and we’ve always lost.”

  For the next hour, the five of them fill me in on apparitions, dead girls, epic fights. A serial killer.

  Past lives.

  An evil father, who I already knew about. And their mother, escaping the terrors of their scary home in the bayou and healing.

  “We’ve defeated him twice before,” Millie finishes. “But not for good. Not forever. We can’t cast him out without the six of us being together.”

  “Why didn’t you just call me on Halloween if you knew that was the case?” I demand. “This could be done.”

  “It wasn’t time,” Lucien says simply.

  “So, what now?” I ask. “How do we find him and defeat him?”

  “He hasn’t started manifesting himself yet,” Cash reminds us. “We can’t do anything until he makes the first move.”

  My gaze whips to Daphne’s. “You didn’t tell them?”

  “Tell us what?” Brielle asks, coming to attention. Daphne just watches me. “Tell us what?” Brielle demands again.

  “Something happened at the reception,” Daphne says softly. “I was in the restroom, avoiding G.I. Joe over there.”

  I grin and rock back on my heels. If she’s trying to avoid me, it’s because she still feels something.

  I can work with that.

  “When I walked out of the bathroom and came around the house to the tent where everyone was, it was still. Dead quiet. The guests were facing away from me, but they suddenly turned around to stare at me—and they were all missing their eyes.”

  “Jesus,” Cash mutters.

  “Oh, Daphne,” Millie says and hurries around the counter to hug her sister. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Because it was your wedding reception,” Daphne reminds her. “What would you have had me do? Interrupt the fun and say, ‘Oh, by the way, an evil serial killer is terrorizing me today?’”

  “Yeah,” Brielle says, nodding. “That’s exactly what you should have said.”

  “At the very least,” Lucien
adds, “you should have called us all together the next morning so we could talk it through.”

  “Well, I came out of it—the trance or whatever—and it didn’t happen again,” Daphne replies.

  “But I saw it, too,” I say.

  Five pairs of eyes turn to me.

  “I was watching for Daphne, and when I saw her stop so abruptly and noticed the fear in her eyes, I looked back, and I saw it, too. And the shittiest thing is, that was one of my visions. But I didn’t know until I was in that exact spot that that’s what I’d seen.”

  “Before that day, when was your vision?” Millie asks.

  I blink, thinking back. “Oh, geez, it must have been…a week before? Maybe a little more.”

  “It’s starting much earlier this time,” Brielle says.

  “Makes sense,” Lucien adds. “He’s angry. Question: have you two seen the same things in the past?”

  “No, I have precognition, and Daph sees the past. It’s never overlapped before.”

  “Wow,” Cash exclaims. “This is intense.”

  “I need more coffee,” Daphne says and walks behind the counter to brew a cup. “And why didn’t I realize that? Why didn’t it occur to me that we’ve never seen the same thing before?”

  “Because you’re too worried about me,” I reply and grin when she narrows her eyes. “You’re not objective when it comes to me.”

  “Arrogant much?” She lifts an eyebrow.

  “Is it any wonder that I’m crazy about you?”

  “He’s right,” Lucien adds. “It didn’t occur to you because you’re too worried about the personal side of things. But we all have to remember to keep our eyes open and make a note of everything because there are no coincidences or accidents. What happened to you two at our reception was purposeful and meant to throw you both off.”

  “So, what do we do?” I demand. “How do we end this fucker? I won’t have him hurt Daphne—or any of you, for that matter. This needs to be over.”

  “As frustrating as it is, we wait,” Lucien says. “This phase is just beginning. We have to wait.”

  “We need to recharge the stones in Daphne’s shop and at her apartment,” Millie says, making a mental list. “Cast protection spells daily.”