Possess Me (32 page)

“Son of a bitch! Can’t this thing go any faster?”

“Almost there, BD.” Ben revved the vibrating motorcycle, weaving through the pedestrian traffic.

God please let him get there sooner this time.

He saw the decorative iron gates of the cemetery and patted Ben’s shoulder to slow down enough for him to jump off. He hit the ground running, weaving his way through the aboveground tombs, his feet knowing exactly where he was going.

A voice rang out. “You haven’t changed a bit, big brother. I knew your mama made a deal with the devil.”

He stopped a short distance away from the nondescript man who held Bethany against him, a dirty knife to her throat. His brow wrinkled. He didn’t know this man, and yet—

“Antoine?”

“Enough of me to matter. And look who I found, right on our special anniversary. Do you believe in fate, Marcel? I would have said no, but since I realized I would get a second chance to kill the both of you, again, I’ve decided to rethink my position.” He tilted his head, talking to the frightened Bethany. “Perhaps this time I should make sure he is completely dead. Would you like to die last this time? See me in action, so to speak?”

Bethany sneered. “Go to hell.”

Bone Daddy was afraid to blink, to take his eyes from his woman as she insulted the man with her life in his hands. “Let her go, Antoine. Please. You never wanted to hurt Isabel, it was me you were after. Besides, that was years ago. This woman is
not
Isabel.”

Antoine laughed through the scruffy brown beard. “He thinks me feebleminded, Isabel. We were both sent to the best schools, both given the finest education France had to offer. He says you are not you, yet he stands before me, ready to lay down his life for you. Two and two is still four in this century, is it not?”

Bethany was looking straight at him, and he wanted to cry. He couldn’t fail her again. She was still alive and he had to insure she stayed that way. “You never studied, Ant. You would have been sent home if our father hadn’t continued to send them funding. I’m surprised you could tie your shoes. Now be a man, let her go, and come and fight me like you’re dying to.”

“I’m dying to. Ah, the irony.” Antoine cackled. “Oh good, more company. Welcome to the show.” He narrowed his gaze over Bone Daddy’s shoulder. “Is that . . . no, it can’t be. I truly do believe I’m dreaming.” He cupped Bethany’s breast in one hand with a vulgar leer. “The girl who gave me my blushing bride on a silver platter. Yes, I think I do believe in fate. Ms. Toussaint has given you to me again.”

Bone Daddy heard the shocked gasp and knew Michelle was behind him, and the others as well. “This is not like last time, Antoine. I trust Bethany, and I know she didn’t go with you willingly. Your mind games will not work on any of us this time. We see you for what you are.”

The man’s eyes narrowed, the spirit of Antoine clear to see in the fire behind them. “Good. If you can see me, you can clearly see the knife as I slice open
Bethany’s
throat.”

At first he could have sworn she was blinking back tears. But no. Bethany winked at him. Her hands, which had been clinging weakly to the arm holding the weapon, tightened and pushed out quickly. She ducked, jamming her elbow between his legs before rolling away.

It was the height of foolishness.

But it was a chance.

Bone Daddy rushed the body possessed by his half brother, knocking the knife out of his hands and punching him in the jaw.

“Something different.” Antoine cupped his chin, circling Bone Daddy warily as he watched Bethany crawl on the ground toward the knife. “Isabel is more of a fighter now. The last time it was almost a relief to kill her when she refused to marry me. All she did was whimper and cry, and call for you to come for her.” He met her gaze and she froze beside the knife. “He never did, by the way. Never came to save you. Not until it was too late to matter.”

Shame at the memory burned through Bone Daddy. He’d been too late. “You are a bastard.”

Antoine growled, losing all semblance of calm. “No. You are the bastard, Marcel—the shameful stench our father could not wash off his shoe. You ruined everything you touched. Father. Isabel. You should have taken the money and agreed to let me have her. No one would have had to die. And you would have been free to live your own life.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bone Daddy saw Ben grab Bethany and drag her to safety. He was glad. No matter what happened to him now,
this time she lived
.

Bone Daddy shook his head. His brother had never understood. “Without her there was no life.”

The average body of the bearded man dove on him with nearly inhuman strength, throwing him against the corner of the small mausoleum that held the bodies of Isabel and her brother.

Pain arced through his limbs and he crumpled to the ground. He pulled himself up to his knees in time for Antoine to kick him in his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Knocking him to the ground once more.

Antoine wasn’t Loa, but a ghost strong enough to possess a body was strong enough to enhance its strength. Without his abilities, Bone Daddy knew he wasn’t a match for the angry spirit.

“I see you, spirit.” Michelle’s voice rang out strong and clear in the night. “I am
bon ange
, a guardian for souls, and I
see
you, and all those who dwell here.”

Antoine’s eyes widened warily. “
Bon ange?
You, Toussaint?”

Bone Daddy got to his feet. “You look scared, little Ant.”

Michelle came closer, and Ben, Rousseau, and Allegra stayed right with her, obviously unwilling to leave her side. “The spirits don’t appreciate you disrupting their home with your darkness. I see you. And you will leave that body and never bother us again. Now.”

She muttered something Bone Daddy couldn’t quite make out through the pain-induced roar of blood pounding in his ears. But he could see Antoine’s reaction.

The man fell to the ground, rolling along the narrow walk, hitting the tombs as though someone were beating him. After a few moments, he was still, his shallow breathing the only indication that he lived.

It was over. It was finally over.

He’d gotten his second chance.

And she was still alive.

“Bethany?” She was kneeling by his side, tears streaming down her cheeks as she touched his face, her expression one of relief. And wonder.

“You remember?”

She nodded and shrugged at the same time. “A little. I remember you. I remember loving you.”

He lifted her into his lap on the cool ground, rocking her as Rousseau and Ben helped the shaken, bearded man out of the cemetery. Michelle glanced up at the sky, which was already starting to change with the predawn light. She turned a worried look to the couple on the ground. “We’ll be waiting outside the gate.”

Bone Daddy turned away from Bethany long enough to smile at Michelle. “You see? I told you your gift would help people.”

Michelle’s laughter was choked by a sob. “I’m just glad it worked this time . . . Marcel?”

He nodded and she sniffled, turning to pass Allegra, and headed toward the gate.

Allegra was crying, too. “Thank you for coming to my wedding.”

“Aw,
cher
. Thank
you
for honoring me with such a gift. I will treasure it always.” Bethany held him tighter and he slid his hand beneath her chin, lifting her face up to the dim light. “I will treasure this day above all others, Blue Eyes. Because of you.”

“If I called you would you come back to me?” Her voice was wavering, and he knew she was hanging on by a thread.

He wished he could comfort her with false hope, but he’d promised he would never lie to her. “I want nothing more, but I don’t think I’ll be able to. Not for a very long while.”

“This isn’t fair.”

He caressed her face, his finger tracing the full curve of her upper lip. “I disagree. I was here this time. Here in time to stop him. I didn’t have to hold your dead body in my arms. Or Emmanuel’s.”

He remembered finding her, finding Emmanuel crying beside her. The little boy had followed her to the cemetery, trying to protect her, but he’d been far too young. He’d hidden until it was over, too afraid to move. Unfortunately, neither of them had realized that Antoine and his helpers were still there, waiting for their moment to finish Marcel.

“I wish I’d been able to save him. I tried, but I was injured, knocked out and left for dead.”

Bethany shook her head at the self-loathing in his voice. “You came for us. In my book, you’re a hero. Today, yesterday, and always.”

He held her close, kissing her gently, sweetly. He wouldn’t pray for more than he’d gotten. But he wished. Wished to someday be given the chance to have a life, a full life, with her spirit by his side.

The light was getting stronger and with it, a strange tingling in his limbs. He gripped her shoulders. “Bethany, listen to me. I love you. I loved you then, as Isabel, and I love you now. With everything that I am, I love you. And I always will.”

She reached for him once more, pressing her lips, salty and damp with tears, to his. She wouldn’t let go, even when he felt the tingles turn to ants, though this time there was no physical pain. But he ached inside as he faded from her sight.

He stood up, watching her collapse on the ground where he’d been only moments before, crying as though her heart would break. The way his was breaking.

“Time to go.” The familiar voice sounded regretful but resolute. There would be no second miracle for Bone Daddy.

He bent down and focused on blowing a tendril on her temple. “Always.”

She lifted her hand as she felt the breeze and he smiled before stepping through the gate that had appeared beside them.

His day was over.

“SHE HASN’T LEFT THE ROOM FOR THREE DAYS AND SHE’S
barely eaten.”

“Bethany will come out when she’s ready. I don’t think you’d be doing any better if it was Rousseau who’d disappeared into thin air.”

She smiled at Michelle’s protective tone from the hallway that led to the kitchen. What Allegra didn’t know was that Michelle had knocked on Bethany’s door every few hours, offering food and talking softly in the doorway. Keeping her company.

Michelle was a good friend. However misguided, Catherine had been, too.

It was strange, looking over the diaries again and remembering. There were still a lot of missing parts, a lot of blanks. But she knew who she was. Or who she had been.

Isabel.

She touched the locket she’d kept pinned to her shirt since they’d brought her home. She knew how the latch worked now, but she couldn’t bring herself to look inside. He’d given it to her. Along with his promise that he’d find a way for them to be together. A promise that, in the end, he just couldn’t keep.

She still couldn’t believe he was gone. Or that the Marcel she was remembering had somehow become Bone Daddy, a sexual Loa who would live forever.

A part of her wanted to turn around and hide in her room for a few more days, but that wasn’t who she was anymore. No more hiding. She had to celebrate her life. It was too short not to. She owed him that much.

“I smell something cooking. Is there enough for me?” She entered the kitchen and chaos ensued.

Allegra and Mambo Toussaint both came to wrap her in relieved embraces. Even Ben lifted her up in a bear hug that left her feet dangling off the floor. Rousseau rushed to get a bowl for the seafood paella he was making, knowing how she loved all things Spanish, he told her with a gentle smile. And Elise passed by, handing her a glass of mango juice and kissing her cheek. She’d never had so much attention in her entire life.

Michelle hung back. She was smiling, but her eyes were wary. Bethany shook her head. She was still worried about what Antoine had said. About her being identical to the Toussaint who’d put Isabel in danger and about her having done it again by bringing Bethany to New Orleans in the first place.

That was why she had to come downstairs. She jerked her chin toward the dining room, knowing Michelle would follow her. “I have something to show you.”

Bethany set the puzzle box down on the table and Michelle looked at her, confused. “Isabel’s puzzle box? I’ve already seen it.”

“It wasn’t Isabel’s. I—she didn’t put it in her secret spot.” She smiled as the others huddled in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room, unwilling to put forth the effort to pretend they weren’t listening.

Michelle sat down in the chair across from her. “Then who?”

“Only two other people in the world, besides Isabel, knew about the secret panel. Emmanuel.” Bethany felt the cool breeze and smiled lovingly. “And Catherine Toussaint, Isabel’s very best friend.”

Michelle flinched, looking at the box as if it had turned into a poisonous snake.