Chapter 1 #2
“I figured you and Cami cook often enough that I should pitch in.” Dea inclined her head. “So, what does this mean?”
"Gris-gris bags are traditional voodoo," Phi observed. "I would ask if Marie could have been the individual you observed, but I can’t see her combining them with a ritual that manipulates ghosts. It sounds like someone's mixing practices."
"Never a good sign," Dre said with that tone she gets when shit's about to hit the fan. “You don’t think it’s the Society, do you?”
I shook my head as my stomach did that familiar flip it did when we were about to walk into something nasty. "This wasn’t them. Combining magical traditions creates unpredictable results. This could get dicey."
"Like blowing up half the Quarter," Kota added, stabbing the air with her fork like she was reliving the moment. "Delacroix got lucky he didn’t cause more damage."
"Did you recognize any of the headstones in your vision?" Dea brought the conversation back to the topic at hand. "Anything that might help us identify which cemetery it was? We could go and look around."
I closed my eyes, letting the vision replay. The broken angel, the weathered stone, and the sense of wrongness that had jolted me. "There was a mausoleum with a broken angel on top. The name was weathered, but it started with 'L'."
"That narrows it down to about fifteen places," Phi said as she typed on her tablet.
"Did anyone die?" Jeff's question made everyone freeze. All eyes shifted from him to me.
"Not in my vision," I replied. His question had jolted us, but it wasn’t surprising. I often saw people losing their lives. "But whatever ritual they were performing, it wasn't meant to help those spirits move on."
"Trapping souls between worlds is dark magic,” Adèle explained. “It violates every natural law."
"And probably half a dozen supernatural treaties," Dre added, like that was the part we should be worried about.
My phone rang with its obnoxious default tone—I really needed to change that. It was Cyran. The leader of the Light Fae was a friend and ally. I prayed he wasn’t calling to give us more bad news. We had enough already.
"Morning, Cyran," I answered. I hit the speaker and put the phone onto the table. "You're on with all of us."
"Good morning, Dahlia," Cyran's voice filled our kitchen. "I hope I'm not interrupting."
"We were having breakfast. What can we do for you?" I tried to keep the suspicion out of my voice. And failed.
"I have a proposition that might interest you.
" I could practically hear him smirking through the phone.
"A group of the oldest families in New Orleans are planning a grand reunion next month.
Both supernatural and mundane lines will be involved.
They're looking for a suitable venue and experienced event planners. "
Dani perked up like someone had offered her free chocolate. "And you recommended us?"
"Naturally. Willowberry Plantation has the space and security. Not to mention that the six of you have proven your ability to handle just about anything," he replied.
"That's one way to put it," Kota muttered.
"What's the catch?" I asked because it felt like there was one. Fingers crossed, it wasn’t expensive and slightly dangerous.
Cyran chuckled like I'd said something amusing. "Perceptive as always. The families want to celebrate their shared history while maintaining appropriate boundaries between those in the know and those who aren't. It'll be a delicate balance."
"Basically, we need to hide the fangs, scales, and magical outbursts while letting everyone be themselves so they have a good time," Dre summarized. She was good at cutting to the chase.
"Precisely. The budget is substantial, and the connections you'd make would be invaluable."
I glanced around the table. My sisters all wore that expression I knew too well. We would somehow find a way to pull off the impossible.
"We've gotta figure out how to keep the mundies blind to all the supernatural BS without scrambling their brains," Dani told Cyran, crossing her arms. This wasn't going to be as simple as throwing up some half-assed diversion spell.
We didn't want the mundies bolting from the party like their asses were on fire.
And slapping them with a spell that made them ignore the paranormal freak show happening right in front of their faces?
Yeah, that could seriously mess with their heads long-term.
"Of course. I should mention that these families possess historical knowledge that stretches back to the city's founding. Knowledge that might be relevant to your... current concerns."
My eyes narrowed. "How do you know about our current concerns?" He wasn’t a mind reader and wouldn't be involved in spying on us. That kind of subterfuge wasn’t his style.
"That app has come in very handy. Especially when the dead grow restless. I didn’t know what was setting me off until I saw the calls.
" His tone went serious. "This isn't the first time New Orleans has experienced such phenomena.
I have no doubt that the oldest families remember the previous occurrences. "
I caught Dani's slight nod. "We'll handle the party. Send over the details, and we'll start planning immediately."
"Excellent. I'll have my assistant forward everything today.”
“Send over anything you learn about what is affecting the ghosts in this city,” Dea added.
He promised to keep in touch and hung up. I looked at my sisters. "Well, that was convenient timing."
"Too convenient?" Phi wondered aloud, voicing what we were all thinking.
"Fate does tend to throw bones our way every once in a while," Dre replied. "We need that historical information. The party itself sounds straightforward enough. We just need to worry about the diversion spell."
"While you guys start on that, I'd better call Marie," Dea said as she reached for her phone. "If someone's messing with voodoo and ghosts, she needs to know."
"And I'll contact Kassandra," Phi added. "Gargoyles have a different perspective on the dead."
Kota looked up from Phi's tablet, which she'd commandeered minutes ago. She spun it around to show me a grainy image of an old stone angel with a broken wing. "Lia, is this the one from your vision? I figure we should start our investigation in that location."
I leaned in, studying the image. "That's it.
The broken wing had some moss hanging off of it, but this looks like the one.
We should check it out as soon as possible.
We might be able to catch this one while setting up.
" My visions always came before the event happened, so there was a chance we could stop this.
The cemetery was Lafayette No. 3. It had been semi-abandoned since Katrina.
Adèle jumped onto the table. "I should accompany you to this cemetery when you go," she informed us. "Familiars can sense disturbances in the veil between worlds that even witches cannot perceive, but I cannot do that from afar."
That sounded risky to me. I shared a look with my sisters. Dre sighed and said, "Alright then. Adèle will come with us. We need to be extra careful. I don't want to advertise that we've got a familiar when most witches haven't seen one in centuries."
"Word's probably already leaked," Lucas pointed out with a smirk that made me want to stare inappropriately. "But no sense painting a target on Adèle's back. Noah and I will accompany you and act as an extra set of eyes."
"A covert road trip to a creepy cemetery is exactly how I saw our day going," Kota declared as she pulled on her jacket. "Let's grab our gear.”
Dea nodded and said, “I'll bring that cloak with the hidden pocket for Adèle to keep her out of sight."
We quickly gathered our protection charms, potions, and enough holy water to make the Pope weep.
A bit later, all of us were piled into my SUV.
Adèle was tucked safely away in the special compartment we'd rigged in Dea's cloak.
Lucas and Noah were in his truck following behind us.
The sky had clouded over, adding that perfect horror-movie atmosphere to our ghost hunt. That was new. And creepy.
"What exactly are we looking for?" Dani asked from the back seat.
"Evidence of ritual magic," Phi replied in her professor voice. "Disturbed graves, magical residue, strange symbols—anything out of the ordinary."
"In a New Orleans cemetery," Kota said dryly. "That really narrows it down."
Lafayette Cemetery No. 3 wasn't on any tourist maps.
It was tucked between newer developments.
Its wrought iron gates hung askew, and many of its pathways were choked with weeds.
The mausoleums and headstones had that particular New Orleans patina.
They'd been mottled with age and bore the scars of countless hurricanes and floods.
Adèle poked her head out from the hidden pocket of Dea's cloak. As soon as we passed through the gates, I could see her fur standing on end. "This place has been violated," she projected, her mental voice tight with anger. "Someone has tampered with ancient bindings."
"Cheerful place," Kota remarked as we moved deeper into the cemetery.
"It feels wrong," Dea whispered and wrapped her arms around herself while carefully cradling the pocket where Adèle hid. "The spirits are agitated."
I moved closer to Dea and Adèle. "What bindings are you talking about?"
Adèle's blue eyes narrowed to slits. "Every cemetery in New Orleans has protective wards dating back to the city's founding," she explained to all of us. "They prevent the dead from being disturbed by casual magic. Someone has systematically weakened these protections here."
Lucas tensed beside me, and his nostrils flared. I'd seen that look before. It usually came right before things went to hell. "Something's been here. Recently."
"Human or other?" I asked as I reached for my magic.
"Both," he growled. "The scents are... conflicted."
We moved forward as a group, spreading out while keeping within eyesight of each other. Safety in numbers was more than just a saying when dealing with supernatural shit. I led the way toward the northwestern corner, where older graves were clustered beneath a massive oak.
I spotted the broken angel atop a weathered mausoleum about thirty yards ahead.
"There’s the crypt from my vision," I pointed out.
The Larousse family crypt had a marble facade that was cracked and stained with decades of neglect.
The angel's face had eroded to a featureless oval, and one wing had snapped off completely.
"That matches what I saw in my vision," I said as we approached it together. Our shoulders almost touched as we moved as one unit.
We gathered around the mausoleum's entrance. The iron door’s lock was broken and hung partially open. "Someone's been inside," Lucas observed.
"Recently," I agreed, spotting fresh scratch marks on the metal. "Let's—"
A terrified yelp interrupted me. We all whirled to see a wiry man in mud-splattered overalls backing away from us. He was clutching a rake like a weapon. Because nothing says intimidating like garden tools.
"Whoa, easy," Dre said, raising her hands. "We didn’t mean to startle you."
"You shouldn't be here at all," the man stammered. Deep shadows beneath his eyes suggested he hadn't slept in days. "The cemetery is closed to visitors."
I stepped forward, keeping my movements slow and non-threatening. "Are you the groundskeeper?"
He nodded jerkily. "For my sins. Name's Earl."
"Earl, I'm Lia. These are my sisters and my husband. We're here investigating reports of unusual activity," I continued.
His knuckles whitened around the rake handle. "You cops?"
"No," Dre answered. "We're specialists. In unusual phenomena."
Earl's shoulders slumped slightly. "I thought I was losing my mind. Been seein' things. Hearing things."
"What kind of things?" Dea asked in that gentle voice that always got people talking.
"The dead," he whispered. "Are walkin’ between worlds."
"Can you describe what’s been going on?" Phi asked with her best concerned expression.
Earl swallowed hard. "It started three nights ago. There were lights floatin’ ‘tween the graves.
I thought it was teenagers with flashlights at first. I went to run 'em off and.
.." He shook his head. "They weren't solid.
I could see right through 'em. And they smell—like flowers left too long in a vase. "
"Did they do anything?" Kota pressed.
"They were gatherin’. Around that." He pointed toward the Larousse tomb. "The next mornin’, I found these." He turned and walked over to the other mausoleums. Each bore freshly etched symbols that sent alarm bells ringing through my magical senses. This wasn't your typical graffiti.
Adèle jumped from Dea's pocket and approached one of the symbols.
Her tail lashed with agitation. "These are spirit traps," she projected loudly enough that even Earl seemed to sense something.
The groundskeeper backed away from her as she inspected the markings.
"They're designed to capture and redirect ghostly energy. "
"They weren't here before?" I confirmed with Earl, who was eyeing our familiar nervously.
"I’ve been workin’ here fifteen years," Earl said as he watched Adèle. "I know every scratch and crack in this place. These showed up overnight. And more appear each morning." He stared at us and then at Adèle. "Your cat seems... unusual," he added hesitantly.
"She's special," I replied vaguely. "She’s very good at detecting supernatural things."
Earl nodded as if he understood. “I had a cat that could sense spirits when I was a boy.”
"Earl," Dre said to get his attention off of our familiar, "has anyone else been in the cemetery recently? Anyone asking questions or showing unusual interest?"
The groundskeeper fidgeted. "I had a fellow come by last week. He said he was a historian, researchin’ old New Orleans families. He spent hours takin’ notes and photographs."
"Did he give a name?" I asked.
"Professor Martin LeClair, from some university up north. He left his card." Earl reached into one of his pockets and handed over a dog-eared business card.
Phi read it with a skeptical expression. "University of Northern Massachusetts, Department of Southern Cultural Studies. This doesn't exist."
"Big surprise," Kota muttered.
"Has anything been disturbed?" I asked. "Any of the tombs opened?"
"Not that I've found. But..." He hesitated. "I haven't been checkin’ the underground sections."
"The what now?" Dea's voice rose an octave.
"Some of these old family tombs have deep chambers," Earl explained. "The Larousse crypt connects to a bunch of 'em."
"Of course it does," I sighed. "Are they accessible?"
Adèle went rigid, and the hair along her spine rose. "Something is awakening below," she projected. "Someone is harvesting ghost energy. I guarantee it’s for a dark purpose."