Chapter 24
JOSIE
The scents of earthy moss and sweet magnolia blooms greet us as we step onto the sacred grounds of the cemetery. New Orleans’ cemeteries are cities unto themselves, with ancient, weathered tombs that rise like small houses, their bleached stone facades etched with the names of those who rest within.
Overhead, the branches of live oaks stretch out, draped with Spanish moss that sways gently in the humid breeze, casting lacey shadows on the path before us.
Rune and Finn flank me, their presence a silent pillar of strength, but my heart races with a mix of dread and anticipation.
It’s been two weeks since I unwittingly unleashed my necromancy powers here, calling the dead from their eternal slumber to aid us against the wolves. The battle was fierce, chaotic, and I dread the idea of seeing the havoc I wrought on the mausoleum.
As we walk through the rows of tombs, I scan for any signs of disturbance, any proof of the chaos I caused. But to my relief, everything appears peaceful and untouched.
The tombs are intact, solemn and dignified, with only the faintest stirrings of spiritual energy—a whisper of what transpired, now settled back into the quietude of death.
“I was so afraid to come back,” I confess, my voice barely above a whisper. “Afraid of what I had done.”
Finn reaches out to squeeze my hand. “They answered yer call, saved our lives, and are at peace once again.”
Rune’s gaze is keen as he looks around. Knowing my Viking, he’s searching the rooftops, ready for any dangers that might threaten to close in. “If I were dead, I’d like the chance to get up and shake off the cobwebs now and then. Who knows, maybe they enjoyed kicking wolf ass.”
I chuckle and hope he’s right. “How long have we got?”
Finn lifts his arm to check his watch. “An hour until you can check in and set up. Two hours until the trial begins.”
Plenty of time.
We continue to my family’s crypt, its marble exterior glowing softly in the moonlight. The door is adorned with intricate carvings of protective symbols and family crests—guardians in their own right.
I press my palm against the family crest. When my bloodline is acknowledged, I step inside.
Inside, the air is cool and still, filled with the faint scent of lavender and myrrh, herbs I used in abundance last time when I created the fake moonstone.
“I’m glad I came back tonight. I need the strength of the Dumont witches behind me, and I was worried they’d be angry with me about what happened.”
“Who could stay mad at you, babe? Nobody.”
I laugh at Rune’s reassurance, thankful for his—and Finn’s—company.
“Aye, he’s right,” Finn says. “Blood ties bind.”
The boys wait off to the side while I light the candles. Flickering flames cast dancing shadows against the stone walls, and I feel the last of my fears ebbing away.
A flap and a flutter bring a swooping black shadow through the door and toward me. Phi lets off a throaty caw and lands on the stone prayer table in the middle of the space.
“Thank Gaia, you’re all right.” She stands tall and proud in front of me, just over two feet, and wider than that from wing to wing. Phi’s feathers are truly incredible. Up close, the flash of purple and blue in her wings shifts with her every movement.
My relief at seeing her transforms into anger now that I know for sure she isn’t dead.
“Where in Gaia’s name have you been? Do you know how worried I was?” I stop myself before I risk sounding any more like Grand-Mère.
I was trapped in stone for twenty-five years. I had some important things to check up on.
“Right,” I say, heavy on the sarcasm, “And how are your nest and various stashes of shiny things?”
You can’t tell, but I’m rolling my eyes at you.
Actually, I can tell. Not so much from her black beady eyes—but a feeling through our connection.
“Well, I’m glad you’re not dead. Also, since you tossed me into the witch trials, it’s only fair that you’re with me when I face them again in a few hours.”
Why do you think I’m here?
“Really? It’s why you came back?”
Your thoughts were blasting at me. You really need to quit with all the doubts and believe in yourself.
“I didn’t know that was a part of a familiar bond.”
Surprise!
“And just like that, I forget why I was worried about you.”
Rune chuckles. “Having a familiar is very amusing. It’s usually me saying dumb stuff and pissing people off.”
Phi clacks her beak at him. Mind your business, Viking.
“Okay, that was funny.”
And to be clear. We don’t share a brain—you just haven’t been shielding yours from mine.
“Perfect,” I groan. “One more person I need to worry about keeping out of my mind. It’s getting seriously crowded up there.”
The raven ruffles her feathers and lifts her beak at me. Are you going to keep stalling or get over your anxiety and talk to Claudette? Tick-tock the trials await.
Right. Whatever.
“Fine. Go over there and wait with the boys. I need a minute.”
Pulling a smudge stick from my pocket—bound sage, lavender, and a sprig of rosemary—I light the end and watch until smoke curls gently into the air.
Spreading its cleansing properties, I wave the stick in wide arcs, the fragrant smoke drifting over the tombs, seeping into the crevices, purifying the space where my ancestors rest.
While I set up my circle, I clear my mind.
Tonight, I don’t want to raise the dead, I simply want to speak with the spirits. Simple witch business. Nothing remotely necromancer-y at all.
Once the air has been cleansed of any lingering negativity, I place the smudge stick in a small cast-iron dish and prepare for the more intimate part of our visit.
On a black satin altar cloth laid upon the marble prayer table, I arrange three candles in a triangle, representing protection, communication, and peace. I light each candle, the flames steady and strong, mirroring the resolve in my heart.
Taking out the mixture of herbs and petals I prepared for this, I tip one of the candles to light the mixture aflame.
“Claudette Dumont, I call upon your spirit, guided by love and light, to join me here in this sacred family space. I seek your wisdom and your presence.”
I sprinkle a circle of salt around the candles, a barrier to protect us from any unwanted energies.
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and extend my senses outward, feeling the thin veil between the worlds. With a calm and focused mind, I repeat the invocation.
The air in the crypt shifts, almost imperceptibly at first, then more noticeably—a coolness brushes my skin, a whisper of ancient voices fills my ears.
The candles flicker as if nodding toward the presence of the spirits, and then, in the gentle, dancing shadows, I sense her.
No, not her—them.
Three forms, more felt than seen, settle around the edges of the candlelight.
“Josie, my child,” a voice, unmistakably Grand-Mère’s, washes over me with a warmth that brings tears to my eyes.
Beside her, two other spirits, softer in their energy but equally familiar—my parents, gone too soon but never truly far.
“Thank you for coming.” There’s so much I want to talk to them about, but tonight I need to focus. “I need your guidance. There’s so much happening, and…have you seen I’m in the Head Priestess trials?”
Grand-Mère dips her chin. “We are with you always, cher. What do you need?”
So many things.
“First, I need to understand how to read the grimoire. The spells are there, but they are benign and low-grade spells. I feel the greatness hidden beneath the words, but don’t know how to unlock the secrets of the spellbook.”
Grand-Mère smiles. “When the book is held by those not of our bloodline, the warding on the book protects the family spells. You need to connect with the grimoire so it recognizes you. Then you will see its true guidance.”
All right.
“What about new potions? I have to come up with a potion that is powerful, useful, and unique. The others had weeks to think about it after Adelaide died, but I haven’t. Can you help me?”
“The goddess will guide you to the answer, cher. That’s the point of the trials. The witch with the strongest connection to Mother Gaia, with the greatest power, will stand as her representative.”
“Or kill the representative and steal it,” I say, shifting my gaze to my mother. “It was Adelaide who betrayed you. She hired Egan and tried to wipe out the Dumont bloodline.”
My mother looks sad. “We left the pain and betrayal behind us long ago, Josie. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“But it does matter,” I insist. “You cursed Sebastian, and he’s innocent. He didn’t kill you. He suffers for the actions of others. That’s not right.”
“Sebastian Fontenot may not have killed us, but he’s not innocent, child. Don’t be blinded by his lies. You are a Dumont witch. Supernaturals of all races have coveted our magic for centuries. Don’t be fooled to believe that man cares about anything but power and bloodshed.”
I understand why she would think that, but I’ve seen another side of him.
“How do I break your curse on him?”
My mother gives me a patient smile. “You don’t, sweet girl. Sebastian will reap what he has sown. Everything works out as it is meant.”
She looks so peaceful standing next to my father and grandmother. How can they be so at peace with torturing Sebastian?
“What about the tenet that we shall do no harm? We fight in defense of our lives and our sisters, but twenty-five years of torture is wrong. I’ve seen his suffering and can’t imagine the strength it’s taken for him to fight it this long.”
“Sebastian Fontenot is not your concern, cher,” Grand-Mère says. “Your heart is too pure for a man like him. Become the high priestess, lead the Sun Witches, and heal the Moon Witches. That is your destiny.”
Movement in the corner brings my attention to Fintan tapping the face of his watch.
Right.
I meet the serene gazes of my family. “Thank you for your wisdom. Be at peace. I love you.”
When I release my call on them, their presence recedes like the tide pulling away from the shore. I blow out the candles one by one, sealing the ritual and their visitation with respect.
Sadly, I don’t feel much better.
RUNE
“I’m sorry things didn’t go as well as you hoped for, babe.” I give Josie a kiss on the cheek and open the car door for her. When she slides into the front seat, I hand her the seatbelt and then close her door and climb into the back.
Finn slides into the driver’s seat beside her. He sticks the keys into the ignition and the engine rumbles to life. “Are ye all right, lass?”
Josie draws a deep breath and exhales. “It’s becoming clear that mentors and family are great, but when it comes down to it—it’s my life and my choices. I’m not them.”
“No. Yer not. Yer a force all yer own.”
She absolutely is.
I grab the headrest and lean forward, focusing on the part that might cheer her up. “It wasn’t all bad. You found out why your family grimoire has been underwhelming.”
She turns back to grant me a warm smile. “Yeah. That’s good. And despite my mom’s comment about not helping Sebastian, I won’t stop trying to break the curse. Sebastian can be a bastard, no one’s arguing that point, but he doesn’t deserve lifelong torture.”
“He’s a fucking bastard, all right. I still can’t believe he wiped my memory.” It pisses me off, but it also cuts deep. It crossed a line the three of us swore we’d never cross.
“It has to be the curse,” Finn says. “The Sebastian we knew and swore our fealty to would never have stabbed you in the back like that.”
And what’s your excuse?
Fintan might put on a smile when we’re in front of Josie, but I see the daggers in his eyes. There’s something seriously not right with him and I’m getting sick of it.
He threw me under the fucking bus with Sebastian. If the wolves are attacking tourists along the river, he should’ve brought it to me.
Has my focus slipped so much that I’m fucking up? Sure, I’m a bit obsessed with my unity bond, but I haven’t been shirking my duties—have I?
I pull out my phone and call up Aiden’s contact.
As the captain of my street rat team, he has been my eyes and ears during daylight hours for the past six years. He’s a good kid and I’ve trusted him to keep tabs on the French Quarter while we were forced indoors during the day.
Now, because of our bond with Josie and feeding on her, Finn and I are daywalkers. It’s a game changer, but I still value Aiden and want him to continue in his current position.
Aiden doesn’t answer, but he sends me a quick text.Sorry. Can’t talk. Too many ears.
Everything OK?
Wolves on the river. Up 2 something.
Grabbing tourists?
Just men.
Wtf4?
TBD
K. I’ll check it in a few hours. Stay clear.
Will do.
If Egan is gathering men, I have a bad feeling I know why. Hopefully I’m wrong.