CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Trak didn’t lift his head for food, drink, or even a kiss from his wife. His head was down, engrossed in the logs before him. Marcel would interpret things, and soon he was lost in the history of Belle Fleur.
“What was this used for?” he asked Marcel.
“Willow bark? It was used to help with pain or inflammation. Sometimes, we would make a tea to help with diarrhea or even headaches.”
“Did it work?” he frowned. Marcel laughed, shaking his head.
“About half the time.” Trak pointed to another name. “Digitalis purpurea. That’s foxglove. The leaves helped with heart conditions. Chamomile.”
“I know chamomile,” said Trak. “My grandfather used to give me a tea with chamomile to help me sleep after my mother beat me.”
“I’m sorry,” said Marcel. Trak only nodded, then quieted, staring off into space.
“Our situations were different and yet similar. I was not a slave, yet I was a prisoner in my mother’s home until I could take care of myself. I was beaten, and no one cared except my grandfather. I feel for this young man.”
“I do as well,” said Marcel. Trak pointed to another name. “Lavender was used for many things. It has such a wonderful smell and a calming ability. Yarrow was used for wound healing. Horehound could reduce coughing.”
“Look at this entry.”
I am assured that the spell will protect the gardens and the property. Our gates will hold no matter the enemy.
“Sounds like someone had a visitor,” said Marcel.
“Keep looking. With any luck, there is some clue for us.”
“I still don’t like this,” said Kane, holding his wife’s hand tightly as they walked into the huge hotel ballroom.
“Look at it this way, we’re helping to raise money for the children’s hospital. We just need to find him and get close enough that I can touch his hand or sleeve.”
“We’ll spread out to see if we can find him,” said Ghost. “I have to say, Gwen did a stellar job on these damn masks. I think I make a pretty good big, bad wolf.”
“Easy for you to say,” growled Nine. “I’m a fucking little pig.”
“Me too,” chimed Gaspar.
“I’m Hansel,” laughed Angel.
“Of course you are. What about Cruz? Is he Florence Nightingale?” asked Ian.
“Nope,” he chuckled. “Prince Charming.”
“Right. How stupid of me,” hissed Ian. “I see our bad witch entering with his minions. Keep an eye out for what he’s doing.”
“Right now, it’s just politics as usual,” said Nine. “Pay attention, Aislinn is headed his way.”
They watched as Aislinn and Kane wove through the crowd, smiling and nodding at people who knew nothing of their identities. It would help all of them if it stayed that way.
Reaching Hampton, they realized they were in the perfect spot. There was a crowd of people lined up at the bar, and the people were against one another.
“I’ll be alright,” whispered Aislinn to Kane.
He stared down at his wife, the pain of her pain stabbing his gut. She moved closer and closer until she could lay her hand on his arm. Just a light touch that would send visions through her body and mind.
Carefully, Aislinn reached out. Her fingertips brushed the material of his jacket, and she felt the stab of pain in her head, then her gut and heart. Flashes of blood, flesh, and bone coursed through her body. Indescribable pain flooded her mind.
Bodies. So many bodies. Hanging from trees. Tied to poles. Held down. Women, children, and men. So many men.
“Help me, old woman.”
“I will help you. I will help you to hell.”
“I’ll kill you for this.”
“You’ve done enough killin’. You and yours will pay until the end of time. No angel will protect you, no devil will offer a deal. Generations of your seed will feel the evil you have created. No one can save your soul now.”
Aislinn fell backwards into her husband’s arms. He didn’t allow her to fall, carefully embracing her and walking away from the crowd before someone noticed.
Outside on the patio, he helped her to a chair, the others slowly surrounding her.
“Is she alright?” asked Gaspar.
“I’m fine. I’m fine,” she said breathlessly. “Deaths. So many deaths. It was horrible. He was evil, completely evil.”
“Was there anything to indicate that they were cursed?” asked Nine.
“Yes. A woman. An old woman was called to help save him and refused, or at least she didn’t appear to help him. But she did curse him and all his seed to follow. There’s no escape for him.” Gaspar nodded.
“That’s a place to start.”