SEALs of Summer 2: A Military Romance Superbundle (62 page)

He looked into Ysabeau’s deep amber eyes and knew he’d lost the battle and the war. “Yes, Gran. I do.”

Ysabeau’s eyes welled and she gave him the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.

“Den do as I say. Shuffle. Quickly. I can already feel de wind a-coming.”

Just then a strong gust blew through the open window in the kitchen, scattering papers across the counter and sending a prickly chill up Luke’s spine.

“Creepy,” he said, looking at Ysabeau. Her cheeks were far too pale. He shuffled Gran’s deck quickly and handed it back.

Grann spread the cards face down on the table before him in a triangular pattern. “We three—me, Deolina, and Gochi—are Ysabeau’s protectors. We are compasses, guides, and shields.”

“I’d prefer a SEALs, Marines, and Delta Force,” he muttered, rubbing the chill bumps on his arms.

Grann laughed heartily. “You tink dey stop evil spirits? You have faith, do you not, Mr. Carter?” The way she said it, it sounded like “fate.” With the way his life had been going, he was beginning to think Fate had him.

His gaze fell involuntarily to the crucifix hanging around her neck, which looked eerily similar to the one his mom used to wear when he was a kid. In those days he believed what the Church and his mom taught him. But as a man? Things change. “My faith is not what it used to be.”

“Dat is too bad. See?” Grann turned four cards face-up and waved her hand up over them. “Somet’ing is coming, more terrible dan Hurricane Katrina. More terrible dan anyt’ing I’ve seen.”

Ysabeau chewed nervously on her bottom lip. Luke wished wholeheartedly her hand on his knee wasn’t trembling.

“You might as well tell me what the cards mean,” he growled.

Gran’s gaze was on Ysabeau. She didn’t give a rat’s ass about him. “Don’tcha worry so, Ysa. Death cards don’t have to mean de end of life.”

Luke groaned. “Death card?”

“Dis one.” Grann pointed to a card with an ominous picture of a skeleton dressed all in black, his bones poking out under a cape. Luke thought about Darth Vader. Only scarier.

He snaked his hand into Ysabeau’s and she gave it a gentle squeeze for reassurance.

“Gran, please, tell us what they say,” Ysabeau said.

Grann rattled off something in Kreyòl, which brought a nod from Ysabeau. “She doesn’t know all the English words. I will interpret. She wants you to open your heart and mind. It’s important you are ready to hear. And that the spirit listens too.”

“I’ll listen.” It was the best he could do.

Grann spoke quickly in words Luke couldn’t understand. Her voice rang with such authority Luke found himself leaning forward staring at her serious face, trying to comprehend.

“Before you are cards drawn from the twenty-two of the Major Arcana,” Ysabeau began interpreting. “Representing one journey in your life. We want to draw out the spirit to find out what she knows. Ask her to help us if she can.”

He peered at the first card and read the black letters on it. “The Fool?”

“Grann says The Fool represents the start of a new phase of life. You are driven to abandon the old and start something new. It is a leap into the unknown.”

He grinned. “Pretty accurate so far. Still waiting to see if someone is willing to take that leap with me.”

A flush rose to her cheeks. She blinked rapidly, trying to focus on her grandmother’s words. “Following The Fool can be risky. There is no guarantee you will survive this journey.”

Grann pointed to another card. “This one represents your immediate future,” Ysabeau explained.

“The Lovers’ card?” He wiggled an eyebrow at Ysabeau.

“A love affair that comes with a trial.” Ysabeau frowned. “It requires a sacrifice.”

He immediately thought of the clinic. Was that the sacrifice?

“The next card, The Chariot, represents a great conflict. Take a look at it. The chariot driver is trying to control two horses—one black, one white—pulling in opposite directions. Maybe your spirit is one of the horses.”

In that second, Luke did not think about Soli. It was Sunny and Ysabeau. His heart was already tearing with conflict how much greater could it get? Would he have to give Ysabeau up in the end in order to save his daughter?
Shut it, moron. This is bullshit…
He didn’t believe the hogwash Grann was foretelling. Not at all.

Grann spoke in English. “You see what comes behind de chariot?”

Luke picked up the card.

“It is de storm, Mr. Carter. Like I said. De storm is a’comin’. We must change t’ings. If we don’t…oh, Holy Mother!” She balled her shirt in her fingers, pressing hard into her abdomen.

“Gran!” Ysabeau rushed over and knelt by her legs. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. I wish I could wrap my fingers around dis great hairy beast and poke it in de eye with a stick. But I can’t see it. It’s like what happened with your mama. I couldn’t see her death coming either.”

Ysabeau sat back on her haunches, the weight of Gran’s words sinking in.

Luke was on his feet, his shadow falling over Ysabeau like a blanket. “That’s it. Knock this shit off! You’re scaring Ysabeau.”

“No, Luke. I have to hear this,” Ysabeau said.

Grann rubbed her shoulder. “Not one soul can see a future event when dey’s in it. A priestess cannot see her own demise. Deo can’t. I can’t. We don’t know what is coming for all of us, but it is bad. Sure as hellfire, it’s bad.”

“A hurricane? We can board up the windows, get sandbags and prepare,” Ysabeau squeaked.

“No. I feel in my heart dat it’s an evil folks cannot prepare for. Dey just die.” Grann tipped her head toward the ceiling as though yelling at God. “How am I supposed to fight when I’m blind?”

Ysabeau put her forehead to Gran’s bony knees. “What can we do?”

“Tomorrow night Deo and I will perform a voodoo ceremony. We’ll open de door for spirits and see if dey can tell us anything. We’ll invite Mr. Carter’s spirit to join us and see if she can help us stop dis…dis…terrifying…future.” She shook her head. “Whatever it’s going to be.”

Crap.
Luke swallowed so loudly that both ladies turned to look at him. “Voodoo?”

“Mr. Carter, your spirit might be de only one to save us. Shouldn’t we ask her?”

“With Voodoo.” He knew he was repeating himself, but he couldn’t get that Naif painting out of his head. At the Iron Market, Mr. Johnson’s had portrayed an old priestess who was the spitting likeness of Gran.
With dead people around her.

“How else are we going to figure dis out?” Grann was eyeing him.

“Hell, I don’t know, Gran. But I’m not into drinking chicken blood, or having pins stuck in my ass.”

Grann stared for half a second then roared with laughter. “You are one funny man, Mr. Carter.”

“Yeah, I’m a laugh a minute as long as there are no pins or blood.”

Grann picked up her cards and rewrapped them in the ancient kerchief. She didn’t offer any more grand pronouncements or tell him what the hell a Voodoo ceremony entailed.

“So…?” He pressed.

“So you can bring in my bags. Dey’s in de car.”

“You’re staying the night?” Ysabeau asked.

“I can’t be drinking sherry and driving, can I? I’ll sleep in de bed wid you, child. Mr. Carter can stay on de couch.” She burped softly. “G’night.”

Luke watched with disbelief as Grann clutched her magic cards to her chest and hobbled off toward the bedroom.

Ysabeau rushed forward and hugged him. “Sorry, that was pretty strange for you, huh?”

He laughed. “A little, yeah. I get the feeling Grann wanted to end our date.”

“Seems so.”

“You could sleep here on the couch,” he whispered in her ear. “With me.”

“But Gran…”

“We’re both adults. Stay with me.” He trailed a finger down her neck and relished the shiver it produced. “I’m nowhere near finished loving you yet.”

“I can’t. Grann is, well, she’s Gran. She raised me and I don’t want to disappoint her. We have time.” She kissed his neck and produced a shiver of her own. “Tomorrow.”

“I’m going to hold you to that. Tomorrow we’ll go on another date.”

“Well, we do have a Voodoo ceremony to go to. After that we can…” she pulled back and gazed at him, her eyes were hooded with desire. “…have our date.”

“Right. Voodoo ceremony,” he said with as much excitement as he felt.

“It means a lot to me that you are willing to take part in it.”

“Frankly, I’m not a very spiritual guy. But I’ll go to the ceremony if you want me to.”

She studied the air around his head again, apparently seeing two auras. “It’s important you do.”

“Why? You believe that bad storm crap? The weather reports haven’t said a word about hurricanes. I checked this morning.” He didn’t tell her he was making sure the weather was good for flying out in a few days, hopefully with her sitting in the seat next to his.

“Grann and Deolina have showed me so many amazing things over the years that I’d be a fool not to believe. But that’s not the reason I want you to go.”

“What is?”

She stepped away from him and slowly paced the room. The light from the lamp projected her moving shadow on the wall. “People think the dead don’t move on because they have unfinished business, you know, a task left undone, or amends to make. Lately, I’m starting to understand a spirit may not move on because it simply cannot.”

He cocked his head. “Okay, let’s say for a minute that I believe in spirits—which I’m not sure I do—why would a dead spirit not be able to move on?”

“Each one of us are connected to one another. Linked by our human emotions, our feelings. Haven’t you ever thought about a friend at the same moment he calls you? Or finished someone’s sentence, or laughed at a joke before the punch line?”

“Sure. Danny and I rarely speak in full sentences anymore.”

“My Grann knows exactly how I am feeling—sad, happy, scared, joyful—before I tell her. We are linked, Grann and I.” She locked her fingers together. “Tied to one another by our experiences, feelings, and our love for one another. Strong bonds like these may not be broken by death.”

“Beautiful thought, Ysabeau. But I still don’t understand what this has to do with the Voodoo ceremony.”

She stopped pacing and pinned him with her golden eyes. “It means everything. If the ties that bind her are too strong, a spirit could remain trapped here, unable to move forward, or go back. She becomes stuck in spiritual limbo.”

“She?”

“Grann thinks your wife’s unfinished business is to protect you from the evil that is coming for all of us.”

Ysabeau’s face was laced with sadness. The burl toe-breaker table was between them. He wanted to leap over the massive barrier and hold her in his arms. “You don’t believe that, do you? I told you, the weather reports are clear.”

“Soli’s ties to you are strong, the most powerful I’ve ever seen. I think I understand why. You love her
deeply
.” It didn’t get past him that she’d used the word he’d said to describe how much he cared for her. “Soli’s spirit clings to that love and clings to you, Luke. It is a rare and beautiful thing to see love so magical, so enduring.” She swiped at the corner of her eyes. “It also makes me sad. As long as she is here, you’ll never fall in love with me.” She covered her mouth as if she hadn’t meant to reveal that at all.

He went around the toe-breaker and put his hands on her shoulders. “I am falling in love with you, Ysabeau.”

A little cry escaped her lips.

He covered it with a kiss. Tasting her tears, he swallowed her sadness. “Ysabeau, are you falling for me too? Even a little bit?”

She shook her head slowly. “I can’t love a married man. It would kill me. I want you too much.”

Ysabeau Morno wants me
. He wanted to shout the news at the top of his lungs. If only she looked happier about it. He tipped her chin up and drowned in her eyes. “My wife is dead, angel. I want a relationship with you.”

“Mean it?” Her voice was choked with emotion.

“With all my heart.”

“Then talk to your wife. Get things straightened out and let her move on.”

He exhaled loudly. “At the damned Voodoo ceremony.”

She nodded, “It is the only way. For all of us.” Placing a gentle peck on his cheek, she quickly hustled out of the room.

‡

January 11, 2010. One-day…

N
othing got him
in his sleep. No Death card, hurricane winds, or Grann on a broomstick. He spent most of the night waiting to hear Ysabeau call his name, longing to hear her voice, cursing the silence. He missed having a tingly-dead arm. He missed Ysabeau. Sadness filled his gut. Today, he’d try and fix things, even though he had no real hopes of salvaging the clinic, or saving Ysabeau’s job.

As quietly as possible, he went into the kitchen and made coffee, fried eggs, bacon, and toast. While he flipped the eggs, he thought about how much he hated his job. Being the Guardians’ henchman really sucked.

“Good morning.” Ysabeau hugged him from behind, burrowing her face between his shoulder blades. She inhaled slowly, deeply, as if breathing him in. Her arms snug around his middle were warm and soothing.

Rubbing the softest skin God ever created, he closed his eyes and melted into her. Everything disappeared—the worry, sickness, fears. There was only this, Ysabeau holding him in her cheerful kitchen. He wished it didn’t have to end.