A Late Summer Bloom (6 page)

The bell on the old wooden door to the store rang, signaling the
arrival of a customer and diverting her attention.

“Come, Giselle.” Desiree shouted to her, snapping her out of her dreamy
trance-like state.

“I’m coming.” Giselle walked under Desiree’s outstretched arms and entered
the Goddess of Love shop. When she glanced back, hoping to catch another
glimpse of the man, she found Desiree watching as he walked past.

A long moment passed before Desiree turned around, the look of concern
on her face replaced by a smile.

“Now, we need sexy underwear to go with your new outfit.”

Rolling her eyes, Giselle mumbled. “I hate sexy underwear. It can be so
itchy.”

****

The Funky Pirate was one of the best blues bars in the French quarter. And
even though it was early in the night, people crowded the bar waiting patiently
for their signature drink, the Latter. Giselle sipped her non-alcoholic version
of the scrumptious concoction and licked her lips. She noticed Desiree was very
popular amongst the male witches. And Giselle knew it wasn’t just because of
her good looks and beautifully curvaceous figure. Desiree was fun. And Giselle
was having a great time watching her hold a large man in a headlock.

“Say it!” Desiree insisted. “Say stupendous.” She tightened her grip.

He was chuckling as he wrestled her arms away. “Okay—okay. Your ass
looks better than great. It looks—
stupendous.
”

Desiree smiled and let him go. She brushed at his lapel. “That’s better,
you indignant brute. Now go. Leave me to my friends tonight. We have next week
to make love until dawn.”

The man pecked her cheek and walked to the other end of the bar.

Giselle laughed. “Desiree? Who was that?”

She wiggled her eyebrows.
“An old lover,
Mon Cheri
.”

“Old lover?
You just said—”

Desiree waved her hand in the air. “I think I’ve had my share of him. I
don’t like to drag things out. He’s not for me.” She glanced to the end of the
bar, where the man sat talking to more than a few women. “But I will miss his
ways. He can stay hard
all
night
long.”

“I wouldn’t know—I can only dream.”

Desiree turned to look at her. Reaching out, she put her hand on her
arm in a show of support. “Giselle, as much as I kid around—finding your first
can be difficult. It cannot be rushed. Doing it for the sake of doing it will
not satisfy you. Take it from me. I’ve been with different men, but I’ve always
felt like something was missing. I’ve never had a real connection.
Just sex.”

Giselle narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips together. “Well, just sex
at this point might be better than never knowing.”

Desiree tilted her head, her expression sympathetic. Removing her hand,
she sucked in a deep breath and blew it out. “Let’s not talk about such
depressing things. Let us drink and laugh the night away.”

Giselle giggled. “Okay Desiree, just a couple more questions.”

“Ugh. You drive me crazy. What do you want to know?”

“Have you ever been with a human man?”

Desiree quirked her
mouth, blowing a stray curl
straight up. “Yes. I have. They are the same as witches. Men all have the same
parts, Giselle.
Except of course, the travelers.
They
have two cocks.”

Giselle’s eyes widened, the shock must have been apparent on her
expression causing Desiree to burst out laughing.

Giselle shook her head in exasperation. “Nice. It’s a great time for
jokes.”

“I’m sorry Giselle, but you should see your face?”

“Have you ever even met a traveler?”

“No. These male witches are enough for me.”

An hour later, The Funky Pirate was bursting at the seams. Giselle
couldn’t hear a word, so her eyes did all the work. When she glanced at the same
man who enthralled her today, she thought it was fate. If Desiree hadn’t
dragged her into The Love Goddess for underwear, she’d probably be on a date
right now. The way he eyed her, she knew he was interested. At first, she hadn’t
thought about her clothing or hair. But right now, she was thankful to Desiree.
For the first time, she looked like a woman and not a little girl.

She wore a fitted off the shoulder, deep purple mini-dress and black,
strappy, high-heeled sandals. Her hair was layered, giving her curls more
bounce, and her eye makeup brought out the lavender-colored flecks in her dark
eyes. Giselle used her eyes to flirt with the one man who had her belly
fluttering. He smiled at her, making direct eye contact. Suddenly, Giselle’s gut
rolled with nausea. As she rushed to the ladies room, she felt her drink slowly
rising up from the pit of her stomach into the base of her throat. The further
she got from the bar, the more her ill at ease feeling dissipated.

Clutching her stomach, she waited to be sure the feeling passed before
returning to the bar. Music, loud and soulful, began to thrum throughout the tavern.
Feeling dizzy yet uninhibited, Giselle let herself wander to the middle of the
tavern. To her left was Desiree and to the right was the stranger she had
flirted with. He watched her with such intensity, she felt herself lose focus.
And then—she felt it.

Hitting her like a freight train barreling out of control, evil made
its presence known. Somewhere in this tavern, a dark energy lurked. Her
inexperience worked against her, but her instinct recognized danger. Had the
others sensed it too? She immediately scanned the bar for Desiree and waved her
over. Giselle wondered why she and her coven hadn’t reacted.

As she took her first step toward Desiree,
he
stepped into her eye line. Standing handsome and tall, he
remained stoic, unmoving, except to reach his hand out to her. Feeling a slight
pull, Giselle took a step away from Desiree, toward the stranger.
And another step.
Slowly, she moved closer, when she felt
herself run into an invisible wall.
A resistance, stopping
her from walking forward.
It urged her back, as if two magnets were
pushed together on opposite sides. They repelled each other.

Unable to get closer to the ice-blue eyed stranger, her need to go to
him grew unbearable. And although she felt the power around her, buzzing
through her like an electric current, she remained still. She was at the crux
of this battle between two sources of energy and she struggled with indecision.
Her overwhelming need to be with the stranger compelled her forward. She needed
a spell to break this invisible current, but for that, she would need help.

Turning to her friend, realization struck. Every bottle and glass
hummed with a vibration. Desiree was looking past her—
at him!
In that moment she realized that it was Desiree who erected
the force field. Giselle stepped back at once, retreating. The music pounded in
her ears, hampering her efforts to focus on a solution. White hot energy
crackled over her head when another powerful force entered the arena. This one
was as dangerous as anything she’d ever felt.

Giselle knew Desiree’s force field was too weak to hold back such a force.
Not knowing which way to go, she turned and ran toward the exit. Glasses above
the bar began to explode, one by one, each pop sending shards of glass flying
through the air. She heard bottles breaking and people shouting. Chaos broke
out while she bobbed and weaved her way toward the front door. Getting closer,
she slid to a stop.

The man from her vision stood by the door, blocking the exit.

Wearing a long black trench coat with his arms folded across his chest,
his golden hair reached past his shoulders. His eyes bore into her and seemed
to light a slow fire low in her groin. He was beautiful, but his expression
silently chastised her. Confused, she took a step to the left, when he put his
finger in the air and wagged it back and forth, as if her retreat from him was
a no-no. A move to the right, and he repeated his slow finger wag.

Is he serious? All hell’s breaking loose
and he wants to play games?

Giselle decided she would not be caught. Not tonight. She turned and
broke into a run toward the fire exit. She managed to get past the tremendous
exchange of energy threatening to destroy the Funky Pirate. It was almost as if
she were in the middle of an earthquake. Without losing focus, she ran toward
the door and pushed the handle down with all her might. Through the door and
out of breath, she looked up and down a deserted alley. She could hear
clambering on the fire exit, patrons trying to follow her lead, but they were
trapped. It was as if the door had opened for her alone. It was then she realized
it wasn’t the customers who were trapped. It was her.

Before she could react, she heard the roar of a motorcycle come to a screeching
halt.

“Get on!” The man wearing the trench coat shouted over the engine.

Unsure what to do, she yelled back, “Or what?”

“Or.
I’ll. Put.
You.
On.”

Deciding to trust her vision, Giselle pulled her dress up around her
hips and straddled the bike. She noticed him look away. Wrapping her arms
around his waist, she pressed her forehead to his back. As they roared out of
the alley and into the night, Giselle could think only one thing.

Thank the gods for sexy underwear.

Chapter Ten

Giselle’s legs were cramped and the wind, although warm, chilled her to
the bone. The air was damp and the smell of the swamp loomed close. The bike slowed
down, no longer going straight but making turns, leaving her dizzy. As they
neared a desolate area on a back road, the man who rescued her from The Funky Pirate
parked the bike. She could sense his anger when he climbed off. Not knowing
what to do next, Giselle remained seated, watching his movements. He rubbed his
hands over his face and took a deep breath. Letting it out didn’t seem to quell
his agitation, because he was curt with her. “I want to know what happened back
there.”

“What exactly do you mean?”

“Well, for instance, how do you know I’m not a warlock?”

“Because—”

“Because?
What?”

Because you and I are getting hot and heavy
in a vision I had. Oh, and by the way, my sight is a curse and I’m slated to
turn into a raging evil warlock in a few short weeks!
“Because I just know, that’s all.”

“You just know?” Methodically he approached her, so close she licked
her lips in response. Leaning over, his hands on the bike, he looked into her
eyes,
then
quickly broke the connection. “Tell me,
Giselle, all mighty and powerful one, how do you know I’m not going to kill you
out here in the dark swamp with no one around for miles?”

“How do you know my name?”

He stood straight. “You haven’t answered my question.”

She cleared her throat. “What question?”

“How do you know I’m not a warlock? That’s my question. Is it a
feeling? Did you get assistance from the coven? Is there something about me
that screams traveler?”

Her eyes widened. “You’re a traveler?” Giselle smiled, trying not to
look between his legs.

He rolled his eyes at her and threw his hands in the air. “I guess that
answers that.”

She noted his contemptuous smirk as he continued to berate her.

“You really are oblivious, aren’t you? And now, I’m stuck with you. I
have to train you to fight the most evil warlock of our time, so our race can
survive into the next generation, and you think I’m here to play twenty
questions? Perfect! Just what I want to do for the next few weeks—train the
tenth power so she can send all of us spiraling down into the pit.”

As he delivered a look of pure condescension he spat. “And by the looks
of things, I haven’t got much to work with.” She choked back her tears and got
off the bike. Prepared to tell him off, she straightened her spine. When he
narrowed his eyes, she promptly bolted into the swamp.

Running in high heels through the muck was not what she expected of a
fun night out.
What a pompous jerk.
Giselle
knew she was no match for the traveler, and she also knew he was right. She was
a big fat waste of time. She needed some space, and this was the only way she
thought to get it. She would not allow him to see the hurt he inflicted upon
her.

As her run slowed to a brisk walk, Giselle held her side, gasping for breath.
Exasperated by his behavior, her frustration grew. This traveler is the man from
her vision. She was sure of it. Yet, his treatment of her was so unkind.
But, why?
This was not turning out the way she thought. What
happened to the love and tenderness she glimpsed in her vision? Fighting back
her tears, she stopped to lean on a bald cypress tree to rest.

The night was eerily quiet, making Giselle realize she was alone in a
swamp. She assumed the traveler would come after her. Did he leave her? The familiar
smell of Aunt Angelique’s composting can wafted under her nose. Suddenly, she studied
her surroundings in a panic. Sure enough, there was water nearby. A chill ran
up her spine as the word alligator came to mind.