Chapter Twenty-one #3
She took the opportunity to lavish her passion on him.
Kissing his face, licking at his neck, nipping her way down his body.
She was relentless. When he moaned how much he wanted to kiss her, touch her, she tortured him with long languid strokes of hands across his arms, chest, and thighs.
Those thighs, those strong, supple thighs, he’d used to bring her ecstasy earlier.
She wedged herself between them, feeling his tremors, as she brushed her fingertips over them.
He moaned when her lips followed her fingers from knee to apex and his full turgid flesh straining for release.
Taking him in hand she stroked and squeezed, once, twice.
His back arched off the bed. “Mercy, Grace, have mercy”
How could she not?
Her hands moved lower to fondle his sac.
Her lips replaced her fingers on his erection.
She licked and sucked, pressing down as his body bucked under her ministrations, until that final moment when he was lost to all control and she took the prize she’d sought.
The gray light of a rain-soaked dawn filtered through the curtains of the French window.
They lay spooned in the bed, when the dogs woke them, with demands to go out.
“Wait here, my love,” Luc said. “I’ll deal with our friends, and bring back breakfast for both of us.”
“Of course, I’ll wait. Any woman would wait for a man who understands that feeding his woman breakfast in bed is as close to making love as possible without actually doing it.” She smiled as she rested against her headboard.
As he left, she wandered to the window. The rain still pounded in buckets and the dock was completely submerged.
She sucked in a breath. DeLille wasn’t the only danger.
Given the amount and duration of the rain, a flood was a near certainty.
How much damage would it cause to Sweet Dreams?
Regardless, remaining here was not safe.
She spent the time while Luc was gone washing up and dressing in her most practical clothes. Grace also pulled her carpet bag from the back of the armoire. She was loading lingerie into the valise when Luc returned with a tray.
She set the case aside and examined the meal. “Hmmm. Eggs, bacon, muffins and hot chocolate. You do know the way to this woman’s heart.”
They sat on the bed either side of the tray and devoured the meal.
“Should I be surprised that you know how to cook?” Grace asked.
He shook his head, scattering his dark locks over his tempting bare shoulders and rippling pectoral muscles. “No. Most men raised in the country know how. Preparing simple meals is a survival skill. I wouldn’t know how to make these little cakes that you call a muffin.”
“You didn’t have muffins when you were younger? What did the muffin man sell?”
“Oh, we had them, but not like these. These are more like small cakes. As for the muffin man, he sold breads of all sorts and sweet biscuits. Now tell me why you are packing a valise?” Luc gestured to her bag.
“The rain. If you looked outside when you let the dogs out, you probably noticed the dock is completely submerged. The bayou is rising, faster than even all this rain could make it. I’m fairly certain we’re about to have a flood, and I don’t want to be stranded here.
Especially with DeLille plotting murder. ”
“You could be right, but where are you planning to go?”
“We need to go to the Only Love.”
His brow furrowed. “You want to stay on a ship that in the present day is a wreck?”
“It isn’t a wreck for you, when you are aboard.”
Worry lived on his face. Fear skittered down her spine. Grace had never seen him worried before.
“That has been so for more than nine decades, while the effects of my curse have been consistent. I have no idea how the Only Love might change now that I believe my curse to be changing.”
She could handle fear; it’d been her constant companion since before she left Boston.
Now…now it wasn’t. Oh, she had the good sense to be afraid of DeLille and rising flood waters, but fear like that which sent her fleeing from Boston—that was gone.
“Neither do I. I do know that Sweet Dreams is not a safe place to be, as you have been trying to convince me. Your ship is the only other place I can think of that might survive a flood.”
“Even if it’s a wreck?”
“Wood floats, whether it’s a ship or a raft or a single plank. Besides, I suspect DeLille won’t look for me there.”
“What if he’s looking for me?” Luc asked.
“Does he even know you exist?”
“Remember what I told you about being attached. If he believes the legends about the cursed pirate, then he believes I exist. His actions certainly indicate he does,” Luc stated.
“Let’s assume he believes not just in you and your curse, but also the ability to control you. DeLille must think he knows where the gris-gris is or he would not eliminate his patsy.”
“Patsy?” Luc arched an eyebrow.
“A person set up to take the blame for mistakes or wrongdoing,” Grace said.
“Guidry certainly fits that description. Given that reasoning, you are right. We need to leave. However, I’m still not convinced the Only Love is the best retreat.”
“Do you have another idea?”
“No.”
“Then until we can think of somewhere else, the Only Love is our best choice.”
“As you wish. Shall I help you pack?”
“I can handle that. You need to make your own preparations.”
Luc took her hand. “One of those preparations is that amulet. You promised last night you would use it today.”
“Yes, I did. Can you get it for me? I need to clear the desk so we have space to perform the ritual.”
Minutes later, they stood, hand in hand, staring at the white velvet pouch atop the desk.
Grace broke their hold and removed the red tissue paper from the pouch, and spread the paper open to reveal the amulet.
Then she arranged the amulet on the table, laying the gold chain and cylinder to one side.
“I understand this gold piece, now that I’ve done all that research.
” She opened the cylinder’s latch and withdrew the small gold sheets.
“The sheets in the cylinder contain instructions, telling the reincarnated spirit how to proceed on its journey. In the early Greek, Orphic tradition, the belief was that the instructions would help the spirit escape the circle of grief that they believed was the cycle of reincarnation.”
“However, you are not an ancient Greek, and you received this from a VooDoo priestess,” Luc said. A worry line formed between his brows.
“Knowledge of the ancients is imprecise at best,” Grace pitched her voice to soothe.
“We do know that the Greeks interacted with peoples from all over the Mediterranean, including northern Africa. That, the tradition of these cylinders emigrated to one of the African cultures, from which VooDoo originated, is not out of the realm of possibility.” She bent to inspect the characters inscribed on the sheets.
“You said the instructions would remove the spirit from the reincarnation cycle. Will you and Grainne both vanish?” Luc’s tone was a mix of disbelief and concern.
“That is a possibility, if this is an ancient Greek cylinder. Because of its source—coming from Mambo Ayezan—I believe the instructions will cause the cycle to change in some other way.” She stroked a hand down his arm in reassurance.
“What would that be?” He spoke with studied calm.
“I can’t be sure until I follow the instructions.”
Luc grabbed her wrist. “I’m not certain I want to risk that, especially since DeLille is likely to strike today.”
“My manager said he’d work until end of day, today. Also, he’ll come to the house to get the salary owed him and his men.” Grace gently pried his fingers away.
“When might he come?” That worry line was back.
“Usually around three thirty or four o’clock.” She was worried herself, but yielding to it would not help.
“That still leaves plenty of time for DeLille to do his worst.” Luc set his jaw.
She took in a large breath. “It’s only mid-morning, now. I think five to six hours is enough to get ready and leave. Besides you are the one insisting we use this amulet.”
“I don’t want to risk losing you and will do anything to prevent that.” His hand went to her shoulder.
She placed her hand over his. “Remember, I told you I feel like I’m on the precipice of something very important?”
“Aye.”
Grace smiled. “This is it. The mambo gave me the amulet as protection. Its effect will be benign.”
“Your faith is much stronger than mine, even knowing what I do about VooDoo and curses,” he stated dryly.
“We can’t know until we try.” She released his hand, stepped away from his hold, and continued to read.
When, she finished, she returned the sheets to the cylinder, latched it, and met Luc’s gaze again. “I don’t suppose you have a statue of Eshu on the Only Love?”
“No.” A small chuckle escaped him.
“As I interpret the instructions,” she said.
“We must make an offering to him. Using a statue would be best. Lacking that, we can proceed with red, black and white candles, some incense, and a prayer. I have candles in those colors, and some potpourri that can be burned as incense. The mambo said I should leave a sweet for Eshu.”
“What do you have in your pantry?” Luc asked.
“Ginger cookies. They’re in a jar on the top shelf of the pantry.”
“I’ll get them, while you compose a prayer.” He dashed off. Grace found a pencil and paper. Luc returned before she finished writing. He carried the entire jar of cookies. “Where are the candles and the potpourii?”
“A box on the bottom of the armoire.” She continued to write.
He found the box and removed the items they needed. He placed the candles within the circle formed by the amulet’s chain.