Witches of Bourbon Street (13 page)

“Whoa!” Instinctively, I flung myself back in the rolling chair. Keeping a good distance, I carefully reached in to cut the propane, but before I could turn the torch knob, the flame resumed its normal, tight pinpoint.

“Dave!” I cried. “Something’s going on with the pressure gauges. My torch just freaked out.”

The good-natured shop manager appeared in the doorframe. “Looks okay to me.”

“Really?” I gestured to the charred wallboard in front of me. “Does that look normal?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time someone let a torch get the best of her.” His lips quirked up in a teasing smile.

I scowled and turned my torch off. “Can you check the gauges?”

He shrugged, maneuvering his lanky body gracefully through my shop toward the tanks chained to the wall. After a moment, he switched the oxygen tanks then replaced the pressure gauge. “Okay. Everything looked fine, but I switched them just in case. Call me if you have any more problems.”

“Thanks.” The torch lit without incident, but the bead I’d been building hadn’t survived. I hadn’t thought to put it in the kiln to keep it warm, and it had already cracked in multiple places. I was three-quarters of the way through building my second bead when Lailah crept into my mind. What in the world was going on with her? Snatching the portraits, accidentally poisoning Bea, and showing up in Kane’s dreams all made me question if she was who she claimed to be: an angel. Don’t angels help people? Sure, she’d messed up the spell that had ended with Pyper trapped in another reality, but her heart had been in the right place. At least, I’d thought so.

The misery she’d radiated when Bea had been on death’s door had been real. And she’d taken Bea’s binding of her powers without complaint. But what I’d felt from her right before she followed Kane in the dreamwalk—

The torch flared larger and more powerful than before. “Holy crap on toast!” I cried and turned it off, this time remembering to throw my bead in the kiln.

“Problem?” a familiar female voice said from my doorway.

“The tank gauges are out of control, and I just about burned the building down.”

“I can see that.” Kat moved to stand next to my torch station. “Looks like someone needs new wallboard.”

The board had done its job, protecting the building, but she was right. It needed to be replaced before my next class. “I’ll be right back.” I stalked out, vented to Dave, asked him to recheck the system, and strode back toward my studio, vibrating with frustration. Was it a studio issue or was it me? I’d been strumming with power the day before. Could that be the cause? I stopped outside my door and took a moment to search for my inner spark. Nothing. I tried again, and was rewarded with only a slight gnawing in my stomach. Sighing, I went inside, turned off my kiln, and waved Kat toward the door. “Let’s go.”

“Where to?”

“Lunch.”

Five minutes later, we occupied an umbrella-shaded table at Pat O’Brien’s. The courtyard dining area was virtually empty. “Where is everyone?” I asked. Usually the place was filled with hurricane-seeking tourists.

“It’s still early. They just opened.”

The time didn’t stop me from ordering a Guinness.

“Oh good, we’re drinking. I’ll have a Bloody Mary, go heavy on the Tabasco,” Kat told the waiter.

I raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve been on a spicy kick lately.” She went on to order fried gator and shrimp creole.

“I guess so.” I passed my menu to the waiter. “I’ll have the same.” Thinking about what to eat seemed like too much work at the moment.

After our drinks arrived and I downed half my beer, Kat placed her hand over mine. “Are you ready to talk about it?”

That’s the beauty of a best friend. She always knows when something’s up. I spilled everything about the portraits, being sucked back to Idaho, Bea being sick, Lailah’s role in the dreamwalking, and then paused. “Have you seen Dan lately?”

She nodded slowly. “He came by last night after an anger management meeting. Why?”

I was glad they were still friends. Not long after their break-up, Dan had asked Kat for help dealing with his anger issues. She’d been the one to suggest the meetings. We’d all meant a great deal to each other once. But since Dan and I had done our level best to destroy any hope of even a platonic relationship, him coming to me was out of the question. Not to mention, Kane would likely deck him after the way Dan had threatened me that time in the club three months ago. “I’m pretty certain he broke into Wicked.” I explained sensing his emotional signature and finding the voodoo dolls.

“Why in the world would he do something like that?”

Shrugging, I stared at the shrimp covered in Creole sauce the waiter had just placed in front of me. I pushed one around with a fork. “It doesn’t make sense, but can you feel him out about it? I know it was his emotional signature in the hallway.”

She heaved a heavy sigh, sucked down a quarter of her Bloody Mary, and gave me a short nod of acceptance. “I’m not promising anything.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to.”

Two beers and a mild case of heartburn later, I walked with Kat back to her apartment. She had me laughing about a disastrous date she’d been on the previous weekend, when she stopped abruptly and turned to me. “I have to tell you something.”

“Okay,” I said startled by her seriousness.

“I hope it’s okay with you. I mean, it just sort of happened. I didn’t plan it.”

“What?” Trepidation curled in my chest.

She stopped staring at the brick sidewalk and looked me in the eye. “I have a date with Ian tomorrow night.”

“What?” I asked again, stupidly. How could Ian be dating both of my friends?

“I’m not asking permission—it’s just that after the Dan debacle, I want to be up-front. I know you guys only had one date and you’re with Kane and everything—”

I raised my hand. “Stop. It’s fine. I don’t care if you date him. Really.” I eyed her. “Is Ian the guy you’ve had your eye on?”

She nodded. “I didn’t tell you sooner because I sort of felt weird about it. You know, I don’t want to be the friend who takes all your leftovers.”

“Kat, please. Ian and I had one date. Nothing happened. I wouldn’t exactly call him my leftovers.” I raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Who asked who?”

She smiled. “He did. About two weeks ago. He’s taking me to a jazz club he’s been wanting to go to.”

I nodded, noting how she lit up when she talked about the date. Great. Just what I need: my two best friends dating the same guy. What was Ian up to? Dating them both wasn’t cool at all. Should I say something to her about it? No, not yet. Better to talk to Ian first.

Kat chattered on about Ian for a while then laughed. “Sorry. I’m boring you. Tell me what Gwen said when you told her about all this stuff.”

Crap! Why hadn’t Gwen called me back yet?

“You did tell her, didn’t you?” Kat asked.

I shook my head. “Not yet. I left a voicemail.”

We walked in silence for the next few blocks. When we turned down her street, I stopped dead in my tracks.

“What?”

“Is that Dan’s car?” An older, blue Jeep Cherokee was parked a few spots down from her apartment.

She glanced at it and frowned. “He wasn’t supposed to drop by today.”

I inched closer to take a peek in the passenger’s window. The faded Nirvana sticker on the glove box confirmed it. “It’s his. I should go.” There was no way I could handle a face-to-face with him.

“But…” Kat trailed off and shrugged.

There wasn’t anything to say. She didn’t want a confrontation any more than I did. Plus, I was the last thing Dan needed while dealing with his anger management. I gave her a quick hug. “Call me later.” I spun, took two steps and froze again. “Kat?”

“Yeah.”

“Why does Dan have the portraits in the back of his Jeep?” Right there, poking out from under a blanket, was the edge of Felicia’s ornate frame. The other two were there as well.

“No way.” Kat nudged me to the side and peered into the vehicle.

“I have to get them.” Beyond angry, I frantically tugged at the car’s door handles and the hatch in the back.

Locked. Every single one. He had left the driver’s side window cracked slightly. If only I had a shim to jimmy the lock. Right. Because I kept one of those in my pocket.

Instead, I slid my hand through the crack, hoping to reach the lock. I got as far as my forearm before I couldn’t move it any farther. The tip of my fingers could almost reach, but no matter how hard I tried to jam my arm inside, it wouldn’t budge one more inch.

“Damn it!” I yanked my arm out and kicked the wheel. Hard. Hard enough it made my eyes water.

“Hey! How’d you do that?” Kat asked, opening the door.

“What?” I watched as she climbed in and pulled the portraits from the back. “You think I unlocked the car by kicking it?”

“Looks like it. Weird shit just happens around you. I’m used to it now.” She had the art pieces wrapped tightly in the blanket and tried to hand them to me.

“No.” I shook my head and backed away. “I don’t want to touch them after what happened last time.” The pain in my foot started to fade, but I had a weird tingling in my gut. Was I going to throw up? I hadn’t kicked it that hard. Maybe my frustration had tapped my magic. I’d think about that later.

“What am I supposed to do with them?” Kat climbed out of the car, still trying to hand them off to me.

What, indeed? I couldn’t go into a weird trance right there on the street. “Can I borrow your car? I could take them back to Pyper’s.”

She slammed the car door shut. “That will work. But hurry—Dan could walk up any second.”

A minute later, I was in her red Mini Cooper with the portraits strapped into the passenger’s seat. “Thanks, Kat. I owe you one.”

“Friends don’t owe friends.” She stepped back. “I’ll come by later tonight and pick up the car.”

I could have brought it back. Our places were within walking distance, but there was no way I wanted to run into Dan. Especially after he found out they were missing. What the hell was he up to? Did he know they had spirits trapped in them? He had to. Otherwise, why would he take the hideous things?

The heavy traffic in the quarter meant it took twice as long to drive as it would have to walk. I glanced at the portraits and tightened my grip on the wheel, turning my knuckles white. Unease settled over my already darkening mood. I had an eerie sense the trapped spirits were crying out to me.

Help!
Let us out.

Was I imagining it? Were they speaking to me? All I wanted to do was remove the blanket and look into their gruesome faces. A chill ran up my spine and something dark and painful seeped from the passenger seat. The toxic energy started penetrating my senses, making my insides clench and tighten with anxiety. I slammed the accelerator to the floor. The faster I got out of the car and away from the portraits, the better.

A shrill horn sounded. Frantically, I pumped the brakes with both feet. Kat’s car came to a screeching stop, missing the taxi in front of me by mere inches. The adrenaline took over, pushing out all foreign energies. Shaking slightly, I eased back into traffic, and a few minutes later pulled into Kane’s spot behind Wicked.

I slumped, exhausted by everything, and pulled out my phone. A few texts later, and Pyper was on her way out to help. Leaving the portraits unattended in the car wasn’t an option. They’d already been stolen twice.

Sitting there with my head pressed against the steering wheel, my adrenaline started to fade, and something warm and familiar washed over me. An old buried memory of comfort, acceptance, and home touched my soul.

Tears sprung to my eyes as I turned slowly toward the portraits, recognizing the unique energy signature. In a barely audible voice, I whispered, “Mom?”

Chapter 10

I reached out with a tentative hand, but as the signature grew stronger, I lost all sense of caution. Before I could think about what I was doing, I pushed the blanket aside and had Felicia’s portrait in both hands.

Her half-burned image slowly faded into a nondescript featureless face then morphed into a beautiful, pale-skinned beauty. Her dark wavy hair was pulled back in her signature low ponytail hairstyle, with a few strands framing her face. The joy radiating from her reached her jade-green eyes, the mirror image of my own.

“Mom?”

She smiled and gave a short nod.

“Oh, God. What happened? How did you get in there? How do we get you out? Did Felicia have anything to do with this?” My questions tumbled out at a frantic pace.

Her energy wrapped around me the way it used to when she wanted to shield me from something.

“No! I can help. I’m a witch!”

A fierce wave of disapproval clouded her energy, and within the frame she shook her head violently. The portrait actually vibrated.

I was so intent on what was going on inside the car I didn’t notice Kane’s arrival until he had the car door open.

“What are you doing?” He grabbed the portrait from my hands.