Chapter 16
Donatello
Gris-gris, a voodoo talisman or amulet originating in West Africa.
Primarily, the small cloth bag containing herbs, bones, oils, and even personal items was used to bring good luck or provide protection for someone.
Emmeline had learned the art of black magic as a kid.
However, they could also be used for evil intentions.
Placing hexes and evil spells on anyone deemed necessary.
I’d laughed when I’d heard all about her love of spells.
At least initially.
Then I’d seen firsthand what a true hex could do when Emmeline’s grandmother had cast a spell on people responsible for her son’s death.
All I could say was that any act of torture I could inflict was nothing in comparison to the condition of their bodies afterwards.
As I stood in the kitchen of the rental house, staring at a cloth bag that I hadn’t seen before, my thoughts drifted to the day the bodies had been found.
The police had worried there was a serial killer hiding in the bowels of New Orleans.
No such thing.
Just an eighty-something-year-old pissed-off woman with a hunger for violence that outweighed my own.
As soon as I reached out to pull the bag tied with a soft violet ribbon into my hands, I thought better of it. Knowing Emmeline, I’d need to be careful.
Besides, I knew what a physical spell looked like and the small mesh bag had all the markings of a particularly evil spell. Not by the smell, which reminded me of night-blooming jasmine, or by the bones I could tell were crushed inside, but simply knowing the woman nestled naked under soft sheets.
I’d also seen the effects of a spell promoting good health in the daughter of a soldier still working for the Prince family. She’d been healed of an aggressive cancer. The person responsible for the hex? Alexander.
The entire damn family was Cajun. Why would I think of them incapable of planting a spell?
I grabbed the cup of coffee, moving through the house. There was a slender chance she’d placed a spell on me. Would she do that? Then again, what would it matter if she had? I was already an evil man.
I shook my head as I opened the back door, heading outside. The morning was beautiful, sunlight already streaming across the harbor in strings of gold.
The night had been unexpected, a taste of the forbidden, but instead of my thirst being quenched, I longed for more. Indulging in my needs was even more dangerous, definitely unforgivable.
Our sinful act had kept me wide awake, but obviously not all night long. At some point, she’d left our bed, taking the time to create her little gris-gris. I imagined she could build them in her sleep. She even sold them in the gift shop inside Indulgence.
My lack of slumber had also been put to good use.
With the decent internet connection and with being unable to sleep, I’d spent some time researching both Peter Kendall and Southern Comfort Magazine, the latter being a legitimate business operation and from what I could tell, providing savvy presentations of the upper echelon of southern societies in their homes.
If so, then why hire a two-bit photographer making ends meet by taking wedding photos to dress in dark clothing and stalk her in the middle of the night? The question would linger in the back of my mind, a nagging as well. Everything that had occurred was intertwined together.
Even what I could find on this William Dreyfus didn’t send up any red flags, but I wasn’t the one to make the decision to contact various sources we had and doing a deep dive into the man’s background. He was an older gentleman, graduating from Vanderbilt University with a master’s in business.
While there was no direct connection that I could find between the players I’d researched so far, my thoughts continually drifted to a group of wealthy individuals who ruled the world behind the scenes.
The Brotherhood. They’d reared their ugly heads in our world almost two years before.
Mostly men from America’s first families who’d carved out a kingdom of power and prosperity that rivaled sheiks and Russian oligarchs.
They existed mostly in the shadows, protected by an invisible army.
Not only did they have money and connections on their side, they also had anonymity.
That alone was highly dangerous. I couldn’t get them out of my mind.
Sadly, it wasn’t as if there was a shopping list of how or where to find them. It didn’t exist.
But I’d bet William Dreyfus was a card-carrying member. It appeared the magazine was part of his family holdings. Digging any deeper would need to be done later.
Right now, my phone was ringing.
It was time to pay the piper.
I’d already had a message and two texts from Alexander, the last being more pointed.
I stood with a cup of coffee in my hand on the lower deck, staring out at the harbor. When my phone rang, I was forced to realize I wouldn’t be able to hide from reality any longer. The Prince family needed a status report on my findings.
Now, I could lie and say I’d yet to find her, but if one of them checked with the pilot, realizing we’d been stationary in Rio for a full day, questions would be asked.
However, seeing Jaxon on the line surprised me.
We were best friends and had been for a very long time. I’d never lied to him and as far as I knew, he’d never lied to me. Was it possible I was considering doing so now?
My God. I’d sworn an oath, not entirely based around Emmeline to any degree, but she was a part of the honor that I felt obligated to adhere to.
I took another swallow before answering. Avoiding the hand that fed them was never in anyone’s best interest.
“Jaxon.”
“There you are. We were all getting worried about you. At least we knew the plane hadn’t crashed.”
I laughed. Hopefully the sound wasn’t too disingenuous. “I told you I do my best work doing so alone. I’m safe and sound.”
“Does that mean you found my sister?”
A deep, almost frustrated sigh escaped my throat before I caught it.
I thought about the night I’d shared with her, the joy of the passion that I’d hungered for.
I almost felt as if I was betraying her, although she knew we wouldn’t be staying in Rio but for so long.
It simply wasn’t possible. “I’ve located her.
She’s perfectly safe, albeit highly agitated that I interrupted her vacation. ”
“Where the fuck is she?”
“As I said, somewhere safe.”
“You don’t want to tell me.”
“Let’s just say giving her a couple days to decompress isn’t a bad idea. Plus, I have a bad feeling those photographs were to be used for something other than having her appear in a magazine.”
Jaxon muttered under his breath. “By what you’re saying means you found the same thing I did. A whole lot of nothing.”
“At this point, it would appear the company is nothing but a magazine hungering for a bestseller. However, I have a feeling she could be safer here. My instincts are working overtime.” What I decided to keep to myself at this point was about her speed dating adventure.
“Interesting.”
“My suggestion is you track down the photographer.”
“Already ahead of you, but so far, he hasn’t been found. Maybe you put the fear of God into him, but he hasn’t been seen around his apartment since I assigned a soldier to track him down.”
“Then it would seem you need to find him. Fuck. I should have killed the bastard.”
“Donatello, there isn’t a member of the Prince family who isn’t grateful for how much you care about your job. But you can’t go around killing everyone who gets in our way.”
“Maybe not, but I have a bad feeling.”
He chuckled, taking this far too lightly. “Then people will die. We need to find who torched your house.”
“Yeah, I know. However, do me a favor, Jaxon. Call off the dogs.” I glanced just inside, making sure my dolce Ambrosia wasn’t listening in. The phone call to her family she’d believe to be betrayal on its own.
He was shocked by my request. “What do you mean?”
“You’re right to be edgy. My house was blown up.
Three potential members of the Las Bartas Cartel were murdered.
A photographer hired by a firm in Savannah has suddenly disappeared.
If that weren’t enough, your sister is completely disgusted at being held prisoner in her own city.
While I was able to locate her this time, I assure you that if she slips away, she won’t be so easy to find.
She needs some time to decompress, to realize how much she adores her family.
Can you try and pull Alexander down from the rafters? ”
His hesitation meant he was pissed, but I did understand at least part of the reason she wanted full autonomy over her life. And I wanted nothing more than to give that to her.
“You’re with her right now?”
“Not right now, although I’m close. She all but pushed me away, threatening to leave and she’ll go to any length to get away, including drugging me if possible.” I headed to the railing, leaning over the metal bar. Savannah. Why did the city come to mind?
His laugh was full of disbelief. “She wouldn’t do that.”
“Apparently, you don’t know her as well as you believe you do, which is another point she made. She is highly skilled. So much so I fear anyone’s safety who crosses her.”
“Oh, come on, now.”
“Do not say she’s a girl because she’s much more than that.”
Jaxon huffed. “She’s supposed to be here. This is where we can all best protect her.”
“I can protect her!” Said with a little too much vehemence, but at this point, I didn’t care.
“Jesus. You’re damn good at what you do, Donatello, but you’re one man.”
“Maybe that’s all that’s needed. There’s something about the city of Savannah that doesn’t sit right with me. Do you remember the Brotherhood? While they’re everywhere throughout the world, the city of Savannah holds significant meaning as to why I’m asking.”