Chapter 4
Lissette stood, pushed the storage room door open, and stepped out, shaking her head. “Well, that part of the spell was clear. I’m the only one who can see the mark.” She placed the candle on the counter and paced toward the front of the shop.
Footsteps sounded behind her. “What mark?” Xavier asked for the third time.
She turned toward him. “You can’t see it. Only I can.”
“What does it look like?” he asked, his tone less patient.
“It’s a sword that has a tip more like an arrow.” She held out her arm.
Again, he looked at her wrist, his lips pressing together. “Not there.”
“I could see it in the dark room by the light of the candle.” She raised her arm and rubbed the spot. “It was there and very clear to me.”
“If you’re pulling my leg, you can stop now.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not funny.”
She faced him, feet apart, hands fisted at her sides.
“I don’t think any of this is funny. In fact, I don’t think it’s funny at all.
I perform one lousy spell and I get this—” she pointed her hand toward the candle, “a marking I can’t see except by moonlight or candlelight.
The only good it’s done is to indicate the spell is working.
Now, I have to figure out how it will help me find the lost items.”
Xavier shook his head. “You’re not making any sense. A spell? A mark that can’t be seen?” He stared at her, eyes narrowing. “You seriously believe magic is real,” he said, his tone more a statement of wonder than a question.
“It’s real, all right. And now I have to use whatever gift it has given me to locate the items that have been stolen or lost. How it’s supposed to work is still a mystery to me. But it wouldn’t have given me the mark unless it is truly working and will lead me to where those items are located.”
“You think an incantation will lead you to the lost or stolen items?” Xavier shook his head. “Impossible, since magic isn’t real.”
“Look, I don’t normally go around telling people I believe in the magic of Voodoo because of the exact reaction you’re having right now.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “And that is?”
“You now think I’m crazy.” She turned away and paced again. “I only told you because I feel like I owe you for saving me twice.”
“I still think you should report last night’s attack to the sheriff’s office,” Xavier said.
She turned and walked back to him. “I can’t.
If they find out I got that reliquary back by contacting one of the people I knew from my sordid past, a not-so-innocent man who knows how to move stolen property through the bayou, my parole officer could end my parole and send me back to jail for the rest of my sentence. ”
“Which is?”
“Ten more years,” she said, her voice rising with panic. “I can’t go back there. I won’t.” She touched his arm. “Please, don’t tell the sheriff’s office about the reliquary or that I was in contact with criminals from my former life.”
“Then why are you chasing these stolen artifacts if you don’t want to get caught with thieves and other criminals?”
Lissette’s fists clenched as anger surged in her chest. “For one, they took my family’s reliquary and all the workings from four generations of Gautier practitioners.
They belong to us. They were placed there to protect the family.
Since they’ve been gone, my grandmother fell and sprained her ankle. ”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Xavier’s tone and expression were full of concern. “When did it happen?”
“Yesterday,” Lissette said. “And while Gisele’s been gone, a cat got into the Mamba Wamba gift shop and tried to get to Johnny, her Macaw.
It tipped the cage over and nearly gave Johnny a heart attack.
If I hadn’t gone in there to check on things yesterday morning, either the bird would have flapped himself to death or the cat might have managed to have him for breakfast.”
“Wow,” Xavier said. “Poor Johnny.”
“I know, right? I don’t even like the bird, but I don’t want him dying on my watch.
” Lissette drew in a breath and continued.
“Gisele and Rafael’s vacation started the day before with delayed flights, lost baggage and now Gisele is in Mexico with Montezuma’s revenge.
” She touched Xavier’s arm. “You see? We need those items back where they belong or bad things will continue to happen.”
“You think the loss of your family’s reli...” he flung out a hand, “whatever you called it, is what’s causing your family’s string of bad luck?”
Was the man thick-headed? “Yes, of course.”
“All those things could have been just bad luck. Coincidental,” Xavier said. “They could have happened even if your family relics were still in the tomb.”
“Then why else would it all be happening at once?” She met his gaze and held it, anger and frustration burbling in her chest. “Even my cousin Holly has been affected. She had a two-by-four fall on her head just yesterday, and I’ve been attacked twice in less than a week.
I have to do something to recover our protections. We’re doomed without them.”
“Simon and Holly are renovating that old houseboat,” Xavier said. “Things are bound to happen doing that kind of work. And they might be getting careless working faster to get ahead of the hurricane headed our way.”
“See?” Lissette looked up at him in triumph. “Even our luck with the weather is going to hell.”
Her anger eased into regret and sorrow. “It’s not just my family. Other tombs and shrines were vandalized and reliquaries stolen from them.”
“Do you have a list of those tombs and the families they belong to?”
She nodded. “I’d heard from Mimi at the diner that her family tomb was broke into.
When I went out there yesterday to see the damage, I saw there were quite a few.
Marceau, Mitch Marceau’s family. DeRoche, Rene DeRoche’s, family tomb.
Fendley of the Ferrence Fendleys. Levigne, Len Levigne’s grandparents and great-grandparents’ tomb.
Old man Gus Caron’s family shrine. Ms. Fran Arnaud’s family tomb.
Even Mandy Boudreaux’s family plot was hit. And that’s just naming a few.”
Xavier frowned. “Not that I believe this had anything to do with the vandalized tombs, but Mimi had a fire in the diner last night.”
Lissette’s eyes widened. “Did she?”
He nodded. “Mitch Marceau fell off a ladder this morning and broke his arm.”
Her heart plummeted into her belly. “That’s awful.”
“Who is Fran Arnaud?” he asked.
“The old widow who lives on Second Street.”
“The one with the pink flamingo in her garden?” Xavier asked.
“That’s the one. Why?”
“A large branch fell on her porch overnight.”
Lissette gasped. “She’s okay?”
“As far as I know.”
“Now do you believe me?” Lissette asked. “Those people had property stolen from their family tombs. Like the Gautiers, they don’t have the protection it represented.” She turned, paced away, her mind whirling with the potential disaster the community faced.
“All the so-called bad luck you and I have mentioned can be explained logically.”
“Logic has nothing to do with it,” Lissette insisted, her voice growing louder.
“Their protections are gone. My grandmother can’t get around to help everyone, not with a sprained ankle.
I have to get things back where they belong before the hurricane hits, or who knows what will happen?
” She drew in a breath and let it out slowly.
“Maybe it’s stupid or maybe I’m delusional, but I want to do something for the people of the parish to prove I can be a decent human being and a member of the community.
I want to make up for my shitty past. And though they’ve turned their noses up at me, I don’t want anything else bad to happen to them. ”
“And you couldn’t just volunteer at the animal shelter or help build houses for the homeless?”
“I wanted to use my assets, what I know, and the skills I’ve been honing.
Since I can’t use my former network, I had to find another way to locate the missing relics.
” She glanced down at her wrist. “I did the only thing I knew.” She looked up at him.
“I cast a spell to find the stolen items.” Her gaze drifted from his eyes to his neck.
“Only I’m not sure what the mark is trying to show me. ” She frowned again.
Xavier shoved a hand through his hair. “Let me get this straight. Assuming there is such a thing as magic,” he held up a hand, “not that I believe in that kind of nonsense.” He dropped his hand. “But you cast a spell and it’s supposed to show you where the stolen items are located?”
“Yes,” she said and blew out an impatient breath. “At least, I think so.”
“And this spell put a mark on you that only you can see?” Xavier asked.
“Yes. In candlelight or moonlight.” Her lips twisted. “You must think I’ve lost my mind.”
He nodded. “Yes. I think you have. And I might be losing my mind, too. Assuming there is such a thing as magic, how do you know only you can see the mark by candle or moonlight?”
“It was part of the incantation,” she said softly.
“Was there anything else in that spell or incantation?”
Lissette rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Yes, though I don’t see how it’s going to help.”
Xavier caught her arms and held her still until she met his gaze. “I’m not the one who believes in magic. Humor me. What exact words did you say?”
Lissette closed her eyes and drew on her memory from the night before. Since she’d repeated the words over and over to memorize them before she worked the spell, they came back easily.
“By the light of the moon
These words I cast
To find what's lost
From now and past.
The one who casts
The mark shall bear
the one who’ll see
and cannot share.
The lights at night
Let the mark appear
As seen by one
Whose spell is clear.
With magic let the
seer be drawn
and bring the lost home
Where they belong.”
Xavier’s lips pressed together. “You can’t go chasing the people who’ve stolen the relics.”
Lissette’s spine stiffened. “I have to. The sooner the thieves are found and the items are returned, the sooner everything can get back to normal.”