A Late Summer Bloom (15 page)

He tilted his head.
“How?”

She smiled. “I was there.
In the vision.
I was
there when it happened. Usually, I see and can’t help. It’s happened already.
But today, I refused to look away. My anger fueled my mind, I think, giving me
the ancient invocation needed to unlock the shroud and drop the veil. I said
the words as if I’d said them a thousand times before. It came so naturally, I
shocked myself. Julien, I was in two places at the same time.”

Julien shook his head in disbelief, drawing a deep breath. “Wow. This is
astounding news.”

“There is more.”

“Go on.”

“Well, when it was over, the traveler turned to me as if he could see
me. He looked directly at me. I know it sounds impossible, but it’s true.”

“Tell me what he looked like.”

“He looked like me.”

He offered a sympathetic smile, “If I’m correct, the traveler you
helped during your vision is Jacque
LaFeoure
.
Your father, Giselle.”

“My father?
How could a traveler be evil? They are inherently
kind. Why would my mother say otherwise?”

“Simple. She lied.”

“My whole life I believed my soul was black. That one day I would turn
into the very creature I loathed. I could have been living my life, learning my
craft to protect my people. Why would she do this?”

“No one knows why, and it is not for us to ask. You would be a
different person had you not been raised by Angelique. All I know is you
possess a gentle, kind spirit. A spirit that might, given a different
circumstance, have been lost, if you were raised as a royal.”

“Why wouldn’t my father raise me?”

“I suspect he can’t get near you.”

Giselle sat back on her heels. “I want to go to Cottonwood Landing and
face my mother. I want answers.”

“Of course.
We must travel at first light. But there’s more. The
news is dark. We’ve been found, Your Highness. Your power has alerted
Natas
’ army.”

She offered him a half smile. “
Your
Highness?”

“You are the tenth power. Now that you believe, I believe. You must
take your place at the head of the covens. Your subjects will address you as My
Queen or Your Highness. Get used to it.”

“I think I’d rather be Little Witch.
From you, anyway.”
Giselle leaned up on her knees, their bodies close, and their lips a mere whisper
away from a kiss. A loud knock startled them, ruining the moment. Julien stood,
and reaching his hand down, helped her to her feet.

“Come in,” he said.

Desiree flounced inside. “I went to check on you and you were gone. I
couldn’t wait to say congratulations, My Queen.” Halfway between a display of
respect and humor, Desiree curtsied.

Giselle rolled her eyes. “Cut it out, Desiree. I just realized my power.
Give me time to get used to the queen thing.”

“I don’t understand why I can’t go with you to Cottonwood Landing. I’m
not interfering anymore.”

Julien grinned “Anymore?”

Simon entered the room. “No Cottonwood Landing.”

Desiree snorted.
“Killjoy.”

Simon approached Giselle, kissing her hand.
“My Queen.”

Turning to Desiree, he tipped up her chin. “I will escort you back to
New Orleans, where I will watch over you until I get word from the master.”

Desiree smacked his hand away and twisted her mouth when he chuckled at
her action.
  
Grabbing Desiree by the
arm, Giselle pulled her away from the two travelers.

As Simon and Julien discussed the best coordinates for traveling,
Desiree whispered to Giselle. “I’m not going to interfere
but …
you need to kiss Julien.”

“I almost did until a little birdie came knocking.”

“I—I— Oh,
merde
.
I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Julien doesn’t love me and I need to stop hoping he will.”

“Giselle, you don’t understand—”

Julien interrupted them. “The sun will rise soon. We should get ready to
go.”

As he stood staring at them, Desiree huffed.
“Fine.”
Turning back, she puckered her lips at Giselle and shifted her eyes in Julien’s
direction. Giselle furrowed her brow.

****

As the first rays of sunlight shined down on Beaumont Plantation,
Julien stared out over his beckoning estate. Not wanting to leave, he marveled
at the changes to the grounds and the house. Resembling a great southern
mansion of the past, he studied his home, committing everything he could to
memory. This image is the one he wanted to take with him. If he ever was to
return, it would be without Giselle. And for some odd reason, Julien knew his
home would not take kindly to her absence.

It seemed as if the house and land were at peace with the occupants of
his home. He knew it was ridiculous, but no matter what he did to repair the
house, whether it be magic or plain hard work, neither worked. Giselle’s mere
presence made the house a living, breathing entity, with feelings and emotions.
With her here, clearly, his home was happy. Leaving this place, taking her
away, was doling out its death sentence.

Giselle would live and reign in Cottonwood Landing. It was the rightful
place for the queen. And its walls held royalty for centuries. She would marry
there, birth babies there, and rule there. The young, naïve woman he met no
longer existed. With her ability realized, she would continue to discover and
hone her power. Teaching her would be simple now. But letting her go might not
be. And he had no idea why.

Julien snapped out of his funk when he saw Giselle walking toward the
main house. Just glancing at her, his icy heart was infused with warmth for the
first time in years.

Get it together, Julien. She is the tenth
power, the highest form of royalty. She needs a man just as powerful. Someone
who can provide the love and tenderness you lack.
Sighing, he threw his bag over his shoulder. Taking
one final look around, he left the master suite, his uncertainty about ever
returning weighing heavily upon his shoulders.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Saying goodbye was hard. Giselle hugged Desiree, who whispered in her
ear. “Trust me, Giselle. Make sure you kiss Julien.
Soon.”

“Okay Desiree. I’ll conjure up some rope and tie him down.”

“Ooh. Sounds like fun.”

Simon cleared his throat, signaling for Desiree.

Giselle jerked her chin toward Simon as he opened the car door for her.

Without acknowledging his kindness, Desiree sat down in the passenger
seat. Staring down at her skirt, she busied herself with brushing off the tiny
bit of lint that gathered on the material.

After Simon closed the door, he mumbled, “You’re welcome.”

Desiree ignored him and placed dark sunglasses over her eyes. She
looked at Giselle and shrugged her shoulders.

Giselle walked over for one last goodbye. Leaning inside the car
window, she hugged her friend.
“You two all right?”

Desiree scoffed. “Simon is afraid of me, so he remains distant by
acting like a douche.”

Simon snickered. “I’m not deaf, my angel.”

Giselle laughed at them. She never saw two people so oddly matched
before. Yet, they were like missing pieces to a big puzzle. She placed her hand
on the window frame. “Goodbye, Desiree. I will see you soon.”

Desiree covered her hand with her own. “You bet your ass you’ll see me
soon. As soon as the
Gestapo
here
lets me travel, I’ll come to you.”

Simon made himself comfortable in the tiny car. “Do not compare me to
such ruthless humans. My form of punishment is much more
enjoyable.
Are you ready, love?”

Desiree pulled her glasses down the bridge of her nose and rolled her
eyes at Giselle. Putting her glasses back in place, she turned to Simon. “I
need to make a quick stop at one of the elders along the way. If it’s a problem,
you can just drop me.”

“I will do no such thing. It would be my pleasure to accompany you.”

“Simon, do you think you could just shut up and drive?”

Giselle giggled and waved as they drove out of sight.

When Julien’s motorcycle came to a stop, he cut the engine. The silence
was deafening when she lifted her eyes to the trees. It was as if the birds
stopped rejoicing the start of a new day. Not a bee buzzed, not a breeze blew
through the leaves, nor the flutter of an insect’s wings could be heard.
Giselle felt every living thing on Beaumont Plantation come to a halt. It
troubled and saddened her.

Julien helped her on the motorcycle. When the engine roared to life, he
reached back and pulled Giselle’s arms around his waist, shouting over the
engine. “Hang on, Little Witch. I wouldn’t want you to fall on your royal ass.”

Holding him tight, she shouted back. “Believe me, Julien. I’ll hang
onto you as long as I can.” When they sped down the road leading away from the
old majestic plantation, Giselle was unable to stop her tears. She pressed her
forehead to his back. Feeling as though they were driving away from her destiny
instead of toward it, she closed her eyes. Giselle did not see the old oaks dip
their branches, the grass brown and the flowers droop toward earth in their
wake. She didn’t realize, as she silently wept, that Beaumont Plantation was
weeping, too.

****

Riding on the back of a motorcycle for an hour was exhilarating but after
five hours, Giselle was exhausted. She felt cramped in parts of her body she
didn’t even know existed and needed to stop to stretch her limbs. She tapped on
Julien’s shoulder, yelling above the noisy roar of the engine. “We have to take
a break. I’m getting very hungry.” His only response was a nod.

After pulling into a roadside diner, she was relieved to get off the
motorcycle. With her legs cramped, her back achy and her but numb, she
stretched out. She watched Julien free himself from his helmet, shaking out his
shoulder-length, golden hair. He was completely mesmerizing, especially doing
side bends in his perfectly fitted jeans. Realizing she wouldn’t have her hands
on him anytime soon, she sighed. She rather liked her arms around his waist and
her breasts pressed against his back.

“Let’s grab a bite, Little Witch.”

“Sounds good.
I’m starved.”

Inside, the diner was empty except for one person, and the energy was
dark making Giselle uneasy. Julien, sniffing at the air like a bloodhound
tracking a scent, looked nervous.
Jumpy.
It had her
concerned. They were shown to a corner booth by a large window. He pulled up
the blinds to reveal an angry sky. But before sliding into the seat, he leaned
over, whispering in her ear.

“Something is not right, Little Witch. You need to be prepared.”

“I feel it, too. But I haven’t practiced that much. I don’t know what
to do.”

“Trust in yourself, Giselle.
And in me.
I
won’t let anything happen to you.”

Julien glanced out the window again, looking up at the sky. “Giselle,
can you ride a horse?”

“Huh?”

He pulled her by the hand. Just as they reached the exit, the double
doors flew open. The wind churned inside, sending dishes crashing to the floor.
Black clouds could be seen in clusters as they swirled into funnels threatening
to scoop up everything in their path. She felt the fury in the air when the
warlock entered the diner. Julien’s demeanor immediately changed. He stood
ready, feet apart, chest out. She could see his jaw muscles tighten, his fists
clench. He was ready to battle the evil threatening her safety. Quickly pulling
her behind him in a protective stance, he faced the menacing creature.

The warlock looked very much like a middle-aged man, pudgy and balding.
His eyes moved quickly as his teeth formed fangs that lengthened into points.
His fingers stretched while his nails sharpened into knives. “Let her go, Traveler.
Our army will have her one way or the other. We know where she is. We know who
she is. Be kind to yourself and offer us this witch to the tenth power.”

The winds blew through the diner as Giselle stood with her arms
outstretched, palms facing the floor. She moved her arms in a slow, methodical
downward motion, and the wind lessened. The warlock looked at her, running his
lizard-like tongue over his fangs, then he made a slurping noise. Reaching up
to clutch her locket, she panicked, losing her confidence and squelching her
power. The fear seized her chest as she gasped for air.

Like a true warrior, Julien moved slowly at first, his steps graceful
and precise. His arms moved through the air in a circular pattern, producing a long,
gleaming, steel sword out of nothingness. It fit perfectly in his hand as he
wielded it flawlessly. Slicing the warlock’s hands from his body, it screeched
a sound so horrible Giselle could only describe it as coming from the depths of
a pit. Behind the warlock in a matter of seconds, Julien grabbed its pointed
fangs and pulled in opposite directions. The unshakeable warlock’s mouth-daggers
were thinner, but longer than the fangs of a lion. Grunting, Julien pulled with
all his might until the incisors were ripped out with an audible crack. The
black blood and death that she had grown accustomed to witnessing spurted
through the air. Julien backed away from the predator until its evil incarnate
decayed with its final death.