A Late Summer Bloom (14 page)

Desiree caught her breath and scanned the room to find an old woman standing
a few feet away. Simon leaned against the wall. As he held one hand down toward
the floor, keeping Selena at bay, he relaxed. “It is good to see you,
Clementine.”

Walking with a slight limp, the woman hobbled closer and narrowed her
eyes at him. A hump protruded from her right shoulder, and her long, skinny
fingers prominently showed off the rounded bulbous shape of her knuckles.
Leaning on her walking stick for strength, she pointed at Simon. Recognition
lit her features and she smiled, showing beautiful, white teeth. “Why, Simon
Granvil
, I do declare.”

Returning her smile with one of his own, he shook his head. “How did a
beautiful witch such as you end up here?”

“It’s a very long story, Mr.
Granvil
.
One which I’d like to forget.
If, when I die, I have a chance
to return to the land of the living, I hope to undo my wrongs. But, before it’s
too late, I’d like to try to set my niece on the straight and narrow.”

Clementine hobbled toward the couch and rested her weight against an old
sofa. She lifted her walking stick and pointed in the direction of her niece. “You
placed a curse on a man with the noble name of Beaumont?
A
fellow witch?
You’ve been lying to me, Selena. You’re dabbling in dark arts
and I want you out. You will remove the curse you placed on Julien Beaumont or
I will bring the full wrath of the Lovell name down on you.”

Selena was silent as she wiped at the spittle running down the side of
her mouth. Clementine returned her gaze to Simon and Desiree, putting them at
ease. “I will make sure it is done. When Julien kisses the one he is destined
for, the love will rush into his heart and fill him with light.”

Simon nodded. “Thank you, Clementine.”

She smiled at them. “It was nice to see you both again.”

Desiree smiled back.
Both?

Outside, Desiree defended her actions to Simon. “I told you Simon, this
was the best tactic. Seeking to remove the curse another way would have taken
more time. Julien and Giselle don’t have that luxury.”

“Desiree, I told you I would accompany you. Going behind my back is not
something I take lightly. If I didn’t show up when I did, something bad
could’ve happened.”

“I would’ve taken care of it.”

“I saw how you were taking care of it! You said she
dabbled
in black magic. That witch had
the power of voodoo, or even the occult behind her. You put yourself in danger.
Witches like that don’t go away so easily.”

“You are crowding me, Mr.
Granvil
. I’m not a
little girl.” Desiree turned her back when Simon grabbed her by the arm.

“But you are my assignment.” Simon took a deep controlled breath.
“Come. We can get back to Beaumont Plantation by the setting sun, get in the
car.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Giselle spent the rest of the day alone. Practicing her ability to
harness the water in the magic gardens was sweet relief after the mishap this
afternoon. And now, at her most favorite time of day, she relaxed with a walk
along the great tunnel of oaks. Breathing in the perfumed scent of honeysuckle,
she admired the large, protruding roots of the one hundred year old trees. They
stood mighty and proud, inviting her into their protective arms as the cicadas
sang in the glory of the twilight. She marveled at how peaceful and alive she
felt here, in this place.

As the sun spun golden ribbons of light through the trees, the cicada’s
song grew louder. A tremor of power flowed through her body, until her
fingertips buzzed with sensation. Taking direction from her arms, she lifted
them in imitation of a great conductor. With precise movements, Giselle began
to command the cicada’s song. And with the wonderment of a child, she happily
looked on, astounded by her own power as hundreds of insects flew from their
perches.

With her right hand moving up and down, her left hand moved side to
side. An army of cicada’s danced in a perpendicular movement and their song
grew louder. The insects dipped and cut through the trees performing a ballet
of sorts, just for her. Not the least bit frightened or nervous by such a
sight, she felt exalted by her own ability.

Commanding the very essence of nature was exhilarating. Giselle lifted
both hands high in the air, straight up to the sky. Quickly bringing her arms
down in front of her body, past her hips until they jutted out behind her, she directed
the cicada’s do the same. In an instant they flew in masses toward the woods
behind Beaumont plantation.

Out of breath, she turned toward the main house, watching the dark mass
of insects make their exit. Up ahead, she caught a glimpse of Julien, Simon and
Desiree standing, looking like they’d seen a miracle.

They saw? Yes! They saw!
But, before Giselle could celebrate, the shroud
of the veil blurred her sight. Stopping in her tracks, her mind’s eye searched
through the darkness.

No. Not now. Please.
Seeking the strength of a great oak to help
keep her steady, she leaned against the massive bark. A horrible sight came
into focus, making her tremble. Reaching up to hold the satchel around her neck,
she heard the sound of Julien’s voice as it faded into oblivion.

Clutching her necklace, she watched in horror as a warlock clawed at a
man. The man stood tall and proud and unafraid, scoffing at the indescribable
beast. The man’s great speed did nothing to inhibit his fluid movement. Instinctively,
she knew the man held the knowledge and experience of a centuries-old traveler.
While the man played with the monster, goading it into an attack, the moment
came when the warlock lunged towards the traveler. Slicing his arm from elbow
to wrist with its razor sharp fingers, the traveler didn’t flinch or take his
eyes from the creature. Its yellowed fangs dripped with thick, sticky ooze and the
warlock licked its lips at the sight of blood from its opponent. Then it went
in for the kill.

Giselle braced herself for the killing, but she couldn’t close her
eyes. Unable to make it stop, but unwilling to run away, she shook with fury. She
would no longer watch helplessly from afar. Channeling her rage in a way she
never did before, she concentrated on the warlock, watching him closely through
the veil. Shocking herself, Giselle began to chant in the ancient tongue of her
coven. It seemed the emergent words were embedded into her psyche at birth,
always there, but never realized. The veil dropped, the scene becoming pristine
and clear.

All at once, she stood facing the warlock as if he stood a mere five
feet from her. His attention moved from the traveler and it looked directly at
her with glowing red irises. Threatened by its domineering glare, Giselle held
tighter to her locket, while she came to terms with her ability to be in two
places at once. Grappling with the impossibility of such a feat, the pungent
smell of blood invaded her nostrils, churning her stomach. She stood on the fighting
field, in the middle of the conflict. And this time, she would fight alongside
the embattled warrior.

The traveler, taking advantage of the warlock’s momentary lapse of
awareness, pulled a steely sword from his hip. Wielding it like a true warrior,
he swiftly and precisely cut the hands from the beast’s body. Standing prisoner
inside her own vision, Giselle witnessed the unspeakable end to the murderous
creature. The warlock’s loud shrill gave her goose bumps as syrupy black blood
seeped from its open wounds. Without its knifelike fingernails to wield as a
weapon, the warlock’s eyes blazed red. Giselle knew what the warlock knew. His
fate had been sealed.

The man stood behind the warlock, both hands anchored on the giant
fangs, its head pressed against the mighty chest of the traveler, whose feet
dug into the dirt for traction. With all his might, the man ripped the daggers
from its mouth, leaving it to shrivel in agony. Within seconds, a mist began to
rise from its dying carcass. One by one, Giselle witnessed the trapped spirits
flying free when the evil was destroyed.

The traveler, who was weary and blood-soaked from his own wound, faced
her. His eyes found hers and he smiled, tipping his hand to her in an old
fashioned display of thanks.

Giselle’s eyes widened as she stared into lavender eyes. Eyes she knew.
Eyes she saw each time she stared in a mirror. Who—who is this man? Confused,
she cried out when the scene began to fade. “No. Come back. Who are you?”

The
traveler
who stood unmoving, watched her
go. Then, just before her reality returned, she caught the slightest hint of a
smile—a smile that eased her mind, expelled her fear. Suddenly, Giselle felt
safe inside her vision. For the first time, she felt safe.

Recognizing the familiar, protective oaks surrounding her, Giselle
crumpled to the ground while the last vestiges of her vision disappeared, and
with it, any chance she had at some answers.

The last thing she saw before falling into unconsciousness was the
concerned face of another man. A man she loved but would never be able to have.
Julien.
Giselle felt her emotions explode as she fell
to the ground in a heap and sobbed until reality slipped away once more.

****

Julien carried Giselle in his arms to the porch, where Desiree and
Simon waited. Julien looked at Desiree. “You mind telling me what the hell that
was about? I can’t help her if you insist on keeping a childish secret.”

Desiree wasted no time. “You’re right. Giselle has the sight, Julien.”

Simon nodded his head. “Ah. Yes, it looked familiar. Very few have the
gift of the veil.”

Julien raised an eyebrow. “I have heard of such a gift. But I never met
anyone who possessed such a power before.”

Simon creased his brow. “I beg to differ. Jacques
LaFeoure
has the gift of the veil.”

“He does?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“No, but I think I know why. It’s becoming clear to me now.”

Simon tilted his head in puzzlement. “What’s becoming clear?”

Julien glanced down at the beautiful young woman in his arms, the need
to kiss her was overpowering. “I knew I saw some familiarity in her eyes. She
has the eyes of her father. And if I’m right, Jacques
LaFeoure
has some explaining to do.”

Simon leaned over to study Giselle’s appearance and nodded his head in
agreement. “Indeed. I see it now.” Just then, he heard Desiree shout. “They are
getting close, look at the clouds. They found her.”

As Julien held Giselle in his arms, he looked up to the sky. “The
clouds form in clusters.
Shit
. We
must leave at first light.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Giselle woke up in the master suite. Night had fallen and darkness
descended on Beaumont Plantation, but the light inside her burned brightly.
Instead of watching helplessly as a great warrior was extinguished by evil, she
had stepped in, fighting for his soul. And they had won. Feeling joy instead of
dread, she sat upright, looking for Julien. She wanted to tell him everything
now. She trusted him to help her.

She rubbed her temples. The weakness following her sight was better,
but not gone. Shaky, she stood, slowly walking to the bedroom door. Turning the
knob, she opened the door and looked out at the empty hallway. The house was
quiet. She noticed a vast amount of doors, one of which was ajar, its soft
light illuminating an otherwise darkened hallway.

Giselle quietly walked to the door. Peeking inside a room that clearly
belonged to a little girl, she saw Julien. With his head in his hands, his body
trembled. Studying him for just a moment, her eyes widened with concern. When Giselle
recognized his grief, she rushed inside. Kneeling at Julien’s feet, she reached
up, tugging his hands away from his face. Her heart ached for him as she softly
cried. “I am so sorry for what happened to
Joyal
. It
is my fault, all my doing. You have every right to hate me. I didn’t know I
could help. I thought I was an abomination.”

She took a deep breath. “But now, I think I might be the real thing. With
your help, I am hopeful we can free
Joyal
and all the
trapped souls that went before her. I promise to fight with everything I have,
and if I must go to my death, you will know I tried to give back to those who
have lost so much.” She placed her head on his knees and hugged him around his
legs, “Please, Julien, don’t hate me. I couldn’t bear it if you held contempt
in your heart for me.”

Feeling his hand stroke her hair, his voice was soft and reassuring. “I
can’t hate you, Giselle. Not anymore.”

She looked up at him. Tugging her up, he guided her to her knees, positioning
her between his legs. A small smile lifted one side of his mouth when he looked
into her eyes. “Tell me about your experience.”

Relief coursed through her, when she realized his acceptance of her plea.
“You don’t know what I’ve seen. I thought I was helpless to stop it from
happening, but I saved a traveler today. I helped. I really helped.”