28. Chapter 26
Chapter 26
Brixon
I reluctantly load up the car, including the box of files to help continue our investigation back in New Orleans.
Darius decided that he wanted to help. We went to dinner with him and our friends, minus any pets, last night. He gave us what my father had been gathering over the years, along with a necklace that is worth possibly millions, that supposedly completes the trinity.
The keys my father left went to several different safety deposit boxes and safe houses that he and Darius invested in for us. To help keep us safe if and when any of us needed it.
The trinity, we found out, after a little research, was developed to pull power from the ancestors. The original ancestors, from the early days of the Saints in New Orleans who died at their hands. The women created the trinity using dark objects that when put together, helped the scorned witches create the curse to take out the LaBlanc women and Blazendel men who made them suffer, using the power of the ancestors consecrated on hallowed ground.
The first Blazendel brought the first LaBlanc witch to New Orleans from Rome. They decided to bring the rest of the witches, unbeknownst to them, under false pretenses.
Delina and Blazendel believed that they were doing the witches a service and ultimately saving their lives. However, the Saint men chose evil. Instead of loving the women and protecting them, they chose to treat them no better than they would cattle.
Years later, the scorned and abused women retaliated with the trinity. A group of dark objects that pulls ancestral magic directly to the ones yielding it.
Over the years, the Saints being who they were, along with the Lablanc witches who suffered at the hands of their covens because of their name, were able to collect all the pieces over time and keep them separated, ensuring that no witch or Saint ever had the power to use it again.
It’s the only way Mark Boudreaux could have pulled off the spell he put us under. Someone on the inside helped him get the trinity and put it all back, without anyone knowing.
I don’t buy it. There has to be a better explanation.
The Trinity has been separated and hidden in multiple locations, including with the witches, and the head of the Saints for eons. It doesn’t make sense that anyone would help Boudreaux, but he had to have had accomplices to pull everything off the way he has.
Until now…
Alec let us know yesterday that Boudreaux and his Queen bitch had been eliminated. Evie took the news better than expected. She didn’t shed a tear. In fact, she looked like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
I was just hoping he would talk. He took it all to his grave, except telling Alec about his time with Emily, and the reason why she was punished. Who picked her up and took her to the hospital, and why she called Genevieve.
It’s not something Liam wants either of them to know that we know. This is one secret everyone involved in has vowed to take to our grave.
I watch Evie as she puts Jinx into his cage in the backseat, while he meows at a higher pitch, not sounding very happy with her.
My girl looks cool, calm, and collected. Too calm! I’m waiting for her to combust with everything we have learned the last couple of days of our trip.
Our week here in our own paradise, taking a break from the rest of the world for a while, flew by. I need more time with her, away from all the bullshit.
We need more time!
“You okay babes?” Evie asks, her melodic voice pulling me from my thoughts.
“Yeah, just finishing up. Did you grab your makeup bag from the bathroom?” I ask, not remembering if I put it in the back or not, as I look at the overstuffed trunk.
“Yup!” She bounces up on her toes, excited to go home.
We went shopping and Evie went nuts buying beachy things to put in our place. We agreed that we would keep her grans house and let Liam and Emily have the one I bought next to hers.
Liam has already started drawing up plans for a remodel inside and out, including creating Emilys perfect back yard. He has also hired a contractor to surprise her with a library fit for her favorite Disney princess, Belle.
I finish loading up the car and check the house one more time before leaving. I look back at my escape and sigh, knowing it will be a little while, before I get to come back.
I get in the car just as Evie sets her phone down in her lap and Stevie Nicks voice fills the silence singing her favorite song, “New Orleans.” I watch as my girl closes her eyes, leaning her head back as she belts out the lyrics, making me smile a genuine smile. I love seeing her so happy to go home. To our home.
I put the car in drive and sing along with her, obviously taking her by surprise when she sits up abruptly smiling from ear to ear, singing louder, and dancing like she would back home in the street. It’s normal there. Where she is most at peace.
I can give her that peace. For as long as she will let me, I will give whatever her heart desires for as long as I live.
We dance and sing for most of the ride home, only stopping to use the restroom and get snacks. No matter how short the trip is, Evie needs all of the things. Snacks, electronics, playlists, at least two different kinds of drinks in case she gets tired of one. She still doesn’t like to talk in the car, because in her mind, it ruins her music.
I can’t help but chuckle at the fact that she has always been this way. Always will be. I can’t imagine her any other way if I’m being honest.
“So, would you like to go out to dinner, maybe look at all the Mardi Gras decorations? It’s about to be in full swing.” I look over to my beautiful fiancée as we hit Orleans parish speaking only in between songs.
“Is there a particular reason that you want to go out our first night back home?” she asks, cocking a brow.
“You said that you wanted to stalk the Devereaux’s. I have a source telling me that tonight they are having a big dinner, in celebration of a wedding, that we just so happened to get an invite to. Thought it might be fun to start stalking together. We are a team after all.” I lace my fingers through hers on the middle console, giving her hand a slight squeeze.
She stops singing the lyrics to “If It Makes You Happy,” by Cheryl Crow, “Can we get Chinese takeout, beignets, and coffee to eat in the car, and dress in all black?” she picks up with the lyrics again, still dancing in her seat, looking at me for a response.
“If that’s what you want.” I can’t help but chuckle at my perfect little witch, as she turns the music up louder belting out every lyric.
“It’s much more fun than it sounds, I promise.” She says when the song ends.
“Eves, you know I have had a stakeout before, right?” I side eye her knowing she has to be joking.
“I didn’t realize you stalked people all the time, my bad.”
“I guess I should have realized that stalking your prey is second nature to you.” I give it back to her a bit, knowing how she operates.
“Mua!” she puts a hand up to her chest, gasping and looking appalled at the accusation, making me laugh.
My girl is meticulous to a fault. She studied plants for years for fuck’s sake. She is good at the long game. Now that it’s time to play the short game, I’m not so sure she is ready for what could come for us.
Darius believes it’s a few of the families who do not agree that times are changing. They are the ruthless fuckers who knew about the sex trafficking. According to Alec, the trafficking of not just women and little girls, but babies as well. Babies who bare a mark that we all have, without knowing it.
Lily bares the mark as well. We all do, even Emily, which after the meeting with the Delamere brothers doesn’t surprise me. Lily though. We had no idea.
Noah took her home late last night, back to NOLA.
Apparently, we all had a tiny chip inserted into our left heels in the shape of a fleur-de-lis, right after birth. That way, if and when the Saints need to find their subjects, it doesn’t take too long, if you have been scanned. We just have to check it with a blue light to make sure you have Saint blood. Only a Saint doctor has the capability of scanning. If you have never been seen by one, you are safe.
There are only a few elders who were born before they started chipping their children.
We couldn’t hide even if we wanted to.
That’s why we couldn’t find Boudreaux, he isn’t a Saint, so, no chip.
The Devereaux’s, Sin Devereaux specifically, has been very forthcoming with any and all information he has been able to obtain in their investigations. We all agreed to give him a task; to see just how loyal he and his friends are to an organization that tossed them aside.
Each family that had more than one son in that twelve-year period, had to choose one child that generation in New Orleans to sacrifice as a test. It was a time when the Devereaux’s were not the hierarchy.
It was years later, the Devereaux’s took over after a power struggle, between them and the Morelli family. Angelo Morelli died, leaving his wife Sylvia widowed. Some say she actually killed him, but no one could prove it.
She ran his business into the ground over the years, reverting back to her maiden name, Bennett.
The men born in that entire time frame have been denied their birthright their entire lives. There were a lot more men born in that time frame than Christian and his buddies.
I need to know that the stupid experiment, that Angelo Morelli went with to shake things up, actually worked in our favor. I’m hopeful they didn’t turn out to be as ruthless as their fathers and siblings that were brought up as a Saint, especially in New Orleans. Some of the most ruthless Saints have been born and raised there.
Do they hate us and seek revenge? Will they fall in line to save their legacy, because they were raised a little more morally grey than black, or be worse than their brothers.
Will they protect the very thing that keeps our lineage going? Or will they sacrifice them as their forefathers have for centuries, looking at women as beneath them and at their disposal, a luxury, or simply, a mere pet.
I’m so thankful for our mother’s influences growing up. Had it not been for them teaching us how to treat women, and always calling us out on our bullshit, I don’t know if we would be the men we are now.
Evie gets completely silent, smiling as she rolls her window down. I watch her lean her head out of the window, taking in the French Quarter as the car pulls closer to her happy place.
The slight chill in the air whipping through the car gives me goosebumps when it hits the back of my neck at the same time Jinx decides to start meowing loudly.
“Home.” Evie smiles and I swear she is glowing, taking in the sight of our city. The place her soul belongs.
“Do you feel that, Brix?” she asks as she closes her eyes and smiles wide.
“Feel what baby?” I ask in pure awe of her.
“The magic. It’s always here. I can leave the quarter, and it always follows me for a while before it slowly fades to almost nothing. It’s like an overwhelming, beautiful recharge of light every time I come back from an extended trip. I don’t leave often, but I always love how it feels when I come home.”
“I wish I could feel what you feel.” I admit, a little jealous of the one feeling I can never give her myself.
“You felt my anguish the first time you touched me, making you feel the emotions as I did. Maybe you can.” She smiles at me with knowing eyes.
“You can feel my emotions and feelings when you touch me. I just react to your body and expressions, what I can see in your eyes. That’s not magic or projection, that’s love.” I explain.
Evie rewards me with a sweet smile.
I still have a hard time with all the witch stuff. Living through what we have, you would think I’m just a believer.
Like Evie, I enjoyed chemistry, but I flourished in psychology and forensics, learning the minds of some of the most notorious criminals in history.
I was studying to go into the FBI as a profiler, or so my transcripts show. I took a lot of classes to get the credits for several degrees, never really settling until my junior year, when I decided business was my strong suit. It helped get my dad off my ass and I learned what his business was all about.
Learning how to read people during my freshman and sophomore year became invaluable when my dad got sick, and I needed to step up and help him. He bounced back a few times, but ultimately, his getting sick required me to fill his shoes and grow up.
Even when he took back over for a year or so, I helped him, but let people think it was all him. He didn’t want anyone’s pity. The way our friends look at us now, knowing that there is a good chance this shit is real. Knowing that there is a possibility that I may not be able to give her the happily ever after she deserves.
I know I should take this threat seriously after listening to all the witchy babble Darius spewed at dinner, trying to explain how it could be a Saint, but it also could be the witches who want me dead.
It could be someone closer than that. I have too many enemies to count after spouting about change at the last meeting that we were called to back in September. They were asking for a vote to sentence a covenant for cheating on her husband.
Said husband was a prick who treated his wife like a fucking dog. Nothing was ever done to him for beating the shit out of her bad enough to be hospitalized six times in a year.
The Saints scoffed, several acting as if it was a normal day at the office, where a Saint can do no wrong, no matter how disgusting he is. While his so-called precious covenant, that he vowed to protect and cherish until the day he dies, is being held to an unimaginable standard. She is to be his pass around plaything, when he feels like it.
She was raped by his best friend and voted to be a cheating whore, sentenced to six months of training in a halfway house, for the ones that break the rules, supposedly run by the church.
I called bullshit and almost blew the investigation on Boudreaux and his accomplices that day. Many of the Saints from that meeting fled and have not been seen since.
That’s when Boudreaux went into hiding, and right about the same time Devereaux’s wife was taken.
My actions, not being able to control my anger over that poor woman, created a ripple effect. I caused all of this.
We know of the few documents found in the queen bees house, and in the apartment her son had, due to Sin and his men finding it. Not, the Saints put on this case. We don’t know who can be trusted anymore.
That’s a problem when you are in a Deity of the Saints and you are not in charge of shit other than doing what your best friends dad, who is the King for now, says.
I teased Liam relentlessly when we were kids. King Liam, Saint of the universe. I gave him a sword and a stone themed kegger for his twenty-first birthday at our fraternity in college.
Now that I know the only reason that I don’t carry that birth right is because witches cursed my name, I honestly don’t know how I feel.
Hell, my, however many times over, grandfather changed our last name in the late eighteen hundreds, dropping the last several letters, to change my family’s last name to Blaze.
I’m fucking ashamed of my ancestors.
I don’t want or need the burden of being the next King. Darius has made a name for himself as our King in the last twenty-seven years. I know that Liam will change the game when he takes over, and the war that we have already started will erupt when he does.
My thoughts continue spiraling until they finally slow as Evie belts out, “Marie Laveau,” by Bobby Bare. She puts her hands up like claws as he makes the most god-awful screeching noise along with the song, making me bust out laughing!
That’s the spell that Genevieve Hope LaBlanc has put me under. She makes me laugh like I have never laughed with anyone else, including my brothers.
I am in awe of, and so in love with this adorable, perfect, little witch. My witch.
I pull in front of Evie’s childhood home and put the car in park, noticing Liam and Emily are already unloading their vehicle.
Little miss sunshine bounces on her toes waving to her best friend.
“Home.” She chimes before bouncing out of the car.
I follow suite watching Evie spin around with her arms out in front of her childhood home. Her eyes sparkle and her smile is as bright as the New Orleans sun. I want her to be this happy forever.
Evie lights up even more, letting Jinx out of the car, practically running to the gate. She presses her fingers to her lips, then places her hand on the center of the beautiful iron trinity symbol on the gate.
“Home sweet home.” She hollers out looking up at our beautiful home.
I can’t help but look up at its beauty in awe knowing that it holds so many memories for us both.