A Late Summer Bloom (5 page)

Jacques bowed his head in mutual respect. “I have trained you well and
had the pleasure to watch you morph into a worthy opponent for the warlocks.
Remember, if you are physically hurt you must seek out sanctuary in one of our
many caverns. Did you memorize the incantation on how to unbind the caves?”

Julien nodded. “Yes, I have. I learned the routes of all the cloisters
within the south eastern borders. I know the feeding habits of the warlock. I
know where and how they like to hunt. There is no assignment you can give me
that will have me spooked. I am prepared.”

Jacques studied him.
“Hmm—very well.
Your
assignment is to escort Giselle
Jareau
, the tenth power,
to Cottonwood Landing. But first you must unlock her powers and teach her as I
taught you. You see Julien, Giselle does not know the proper way to use her
powers. You must step in and guide her. Do you think you can handle such a task?”

Julien clenched his fists. “This is what I trained day in and day out
for?
To be a glorified babysitter to some undeserving tenth
power?
I signed up to kill warlocks, not babysit some sorry little girl
who can’t wield magic or throw a punch.”

“Are you refusing your assignment?”

Sighing loudly, Julien scratched his head. “Can you, at least, give me
a different one?”

“Giselle is important to the destruction of
Natas
’
army. She doesn’t believe in herself. She lacks the know-how and passion to
defeat the evil rising up from the earth’s core, probably because she was never
given the proper information or shown the correct techniques necessary to use
her power. You must use my teachings, the teachings of the master, to help her
unlock her massive gifts. It is only then that she will be able to defeat
Natas
.”

Julien shook his head in denial. “Why do you need me? Why wouldn’t you
go to her and show her everything yourself? Can’t all this be done by the
master and the travelers? Even her coven could lend a hand. Why depend on a
young girl who claims to know nothing?”

“
Natas
must be defeated in the earthly realm.
There are things you will not understand now, but given time, I believe you
will see the reasons for this path.”

After a few moments of silence, a sullen Julien gave Jacques a nod of
acceptance.

He put his hand on Julien’s shoulder. “Something has come to my
attention. An unforeseen issue is happening at this very moment with our witch.
Come. Let me explain.”

Chapter Eight

Giselle sat cramped, her feet propped up on a hump in the floor of a hot,
smelly bus. She had a window seat, a cold bottle of water, and some time to
herself. However, it wasn’t enough time to dream of a life filled with
possibility. Not even enough time to take in the sights of her old hometown. She
had only enough time to say goodbye to her oldest and best friend before traveling
to Cottonwood Landing. Would she ever see Aunt Angelique again?
Her home?
Giselle was beginning to realize this trip would
be her last. Tears began to blur her vision, so she focused on Desiree.

Her only friend was, as many would say, her own girl. She did things to
please herself, not others. One of the most fun loving and lighthearted witches
Giselle knew
,
Desiree journeyed through life with joy.
But the last few times they communicated, Desiree was pessimistic about the
discovery of her own true calling. By twenty-two years old, most witches knew
their special gift. Not Desiree. She still waited.

The more she thought about her old friend, the more excited she became.
Since Giselle had been a little girl, children and adults shied away from her.
She could be cursed,
they would whisper.
But Desiree would march straight past the stares and whispering, put her arms
tightly around her for everyone to see, and squeeze. “
Don’t let those fuck-wads bother you,”
she would announce loudly.

Giselle giggled at the thought and caught quite a few looks because of
it.
Eh, I’d rather they think I’m crazy,
than cursed.

When she disembarked from the bus, she was slapped in the face by air
as thick as molasses. The smell of the city was one she never forgot, but the
river breeze off the bayou made her long for home. A fleeting recollection of beautiful,
open spaces made Giselle long for Angelique and the safe haven of Washington.
But, when she remembered the warm beignets sprinkled with fresh powdered sugar
the city is so famous for, she happily made her way to the square.

After entering the heart of the city, she stopped to buy the delicious
dessert. Her stomach roared with hunger as she took a seat on a bench. As she savored
every bite of the warm pastry, she tapped her foot to the jazz music bellowing
out of local cafes. She watched the people swarm the artists and tarot card readers.
Why did she wait so long to cut loose and visit New Orleans?

There was no denying how much she’d grown to love Angelique over the
last ten years, but she’d stayed far too long under her thumb. And although her
time was limited, before a traveler comes to escort her away, she would take
the next few days of independence to cram in whatever she could. Helping
herself to another mouthful of beignet, Giselle’s attention was diverted by the
presence of a little Yorkshire terrier.

“Well—hello there, little guy." The irresistible creature quickly
brought out the animal lover in her. She put her hand out to offer the dog a
small piece of her pastry. The pup sniffed at it suspiciously, making her heart
swell with empathy for the little pooch.

Scooping the dog up into her arms, she stood up and carried him to the
square. She scratched him behind the ears, while looking for his tag. Never
would she leave the dog to his own devices. She was involved now. She’d hold
tight until she could ask Desiree what to do. “You’re all alone, huh? Not a
friend to be found?
Yeah—me, too.”
Giselle held the
dog close to her breast, feeling it squirm until it came to rest near her
shoulder. “Don’t worry, little guy. I’m meeting a very good friend. She’ll tell
me where to bring you.” Knowing Desiree would never be late, she searched the streets
for her.

A few moments later, she grinned with glee when she spotted a very
familiar witch. Desiree Mercier had wild dark hair, the kind which did not
cooperate with the humidity of New Orleans. And today it looked angry as it flew
about her head. With bangle bracelets up her arm, large hoop earrings, and four
rings on each hand, Desiree set herself apart from the crowd. Although
encouraged to hide her heritage, she found a way to announce her witch-hood
with style. A long white tee-shirt fell just past her hips over a sheer,
flowing, ankle-length skirt. A thick silver belt hung low on her waist.
Thinking her the quintessential symbol of witch-hood, it made Giselle take note
of her own clothing. She wore stonewashed jeans and a simple white tee-shirt.

How
Boring.

Giselle walked straight toward Desiree when she noticed her eyes widen
with delight. Both squealed with joy when they came together for the first time
in ten years. Holding the dog in one hand, she turned her body and leaned in
for a hug. Desiree pushed her back with outstretched arms. “Let me look at you.
Is it possible that you look the same?”

“Uh huh, stray dog and all. I just found him. Isn’t he cute?” She held
the dog up.

Desiree rolled her eyes. “You still look like the lost ten-year-old
little girl that left the quarter ten years ago. Have you not learned anything
about being a woman?”

The words, spoken with pity, were not meant to be cruel. But Desiree spoke
the truth. While everyone else around her grew up, she’d been held back from
experiencing life. In many ways, she did indeed still feel like a little girl.

As if her friend realized the harshness of her words, Desiree quickly
apologized. “I’m sorry, Giselle—it’s just that I was expecting
someone—different.
Merde
!
I am always blurting out things I shouldn’t!”

“It’s okay. You’re right.” She choked the words out, trying to keep her
emotions in check. But the tears insisted on falling. Wiping at her tears caused
her grip on the dog to loosen. The little pup jumped from her embrace and ran into
the crowd.

Turning to chase after the dog, she pulled up short when Desiree’s hand
caught her arm. “No Giselle. He’ll find his way. Owners let their dogs run
around the quarter all the time. Besides, something didn’t feel right about
that dog.” Desiree draped her arms around her and held tight. “Come—let’s go eat
and have a chat.”

****

In an alley, behind a trash heap, Julien shifted back to his human
form. His decision to shift into a small animal hadn’t been smart. With limited
shifting time in the earthly realm, who knows how long she could’ve held onto
him. His heart beat fast thinking of the consequence of his action. He must
think things through before reacting. But watching Giselle from afar had him
curious. At the tender age of nineteen, she was in the essence of her beauty
and innocence. She wore a simple white tee-shirt with loose fitting,
stonewashed jeans that hung low on her waist. Her dark hair was piled high on
her head in somewhat of a messy mound, with a few tendrils that escaped falling
around her beautiful face. Her lips looked plump, but her eyes were hidden by
dark sunglasses. And it was her eyes he longed to see. His instinct told him
there wasn’t an evil bone in her body. The way she held him was an indication
of a caring nature. She wasn’t at all what he expected. Irritated, he kicked
the nearest trash can.

Not usually interested in comforting a weepy woman, her tears had
shaken him. His need to ease her pain was crushing, but Julien held fast to his
anger.
Joyal’s
soul is wasting away while he plays
babysitter to this witch, and he refused to lose sight of that.
A witch to the tenth power could not be this
naïve.

Chapter Nine

Giselle slept late for two mornings, depression weighing her down.
Spilling her emotions to Desiree had been exhausting. As she stretched her arms
up over her head, her bed shook with great force. Opening one eye, she tried to
adjust her vision.

Desiree loomed over her, hands on her hips, a scowl on her face.

Giselle lifted herself up into a sitting position and rubbed at her
eyes with the heel of her hand. “What? What’s going on?”

“Get up,” Desiree scolded. “I don’t know how you can possibly sleep in
such a noisy city. Voices all night long, right outside the window, and still
you sleep like the dead. You and I are going out. You’ve been here for two whole
days and all you’ve done is eat junk food by the bag full and cry yourself to
sleep. I’m done. You will get up, brush those damn teeth, and pull yourself
together.”

“Alright, already.”
Giselle threw her blanket to the side and yawned. “Where
are we going?”

“Out.
You need a haircut and some new clothes. Honestly—you are living in
New Orleans—not on a farm. Besides, I refuse to sit inside another day. We must
go outside and clear our mind, breathe in the air, get our blood pumping.”

“Okay—okay. I’m getting up.” Yawning, she sat on the edge of the pull
out couch.

Desiree threw Giselle’s pillows to the floor and pulled the sheet off
the bed, forcing her to stand.

“I think we’ll go to The Funky Pirate on Bourbon Street tonight for
some dancing.” She glanced at Giselle, who stood unmoving. “You know where the
shower is. Go. Now! I will not take no for an answer.”

“You can be a real witch when you want to be.” Giselle turned and
stomped in the direction of the bathroom, trying to stifle her giggle.

“And hurry up.” Desiree called after her. “I get mean the longer I wait
for my Café au
lait
”

****

Giselle was dead on her feet. How can a witch shop all day long? It was
store after store with no end in sight. She welcomed her new haircut and a
visit to the nail salon with enthusiasm, as it provided a much needed break
from the incessant shopping. And although she lost the argument regarding her
new hair style, she wasn’t altogether disappointed with the outcome. But, on
the way back to freshen up for their night out, Desiree stopped yet again.

“Really?
Stopping again?”

“Giselle—you would think you’d love shopping in such fine stores. What shops
are there around Angelique’s place?”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“Mm.
That’s what I thought. Come. This won’t take but a minute.”

“Fine.”
With her hands full of purchases, she lost her
footing, but managed to right herself. While the door slowly closed, she reached
out for the doorknob. That’s when she felt it.

There was a slight pull of energy drawing her away from the entrance.
She stopped. Looking around, her attention rested on the approach of a handsome
stranger. His dark hair and electric-blue eyes were like fingers reaching out
for her. Walking on the sidewalk, he zigzagged his way toward her. And as he
came closer, the need to go to him overpowered her senses.