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Authors: Cherrie Mack

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BOOK: A Late Summer Bloom
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When he clapped his hands together they made a most unusual sound, like
that of a bell chiming in the distance. At once, a man stood at the master’s
side. “Jacques
LaFeoure
is my servant. He will be
your teacher and your confidant. Tell him the things you would tell me. He will
be there for you.”

“I will do my best to serve you.”

Before the master quickly disappeared from sight, he offered Julien his
insight. “The assignment you have before you is one of grave danger. It can
lead you down the darkest of paths or it can lead you into the light. When
faced with the choice, you must choose wisely. Everything is not how it seems.
Follow your heart and you shall be saved.”

“I will do my best to follow the right path.”

The master bowed his head and in an instant, he was gone.

Julien watched Jacques size him up. Feeling inferior, he assured him.
“I want to kill the warlock,
Judias
. I live for
revenge and that’s all I live for.”

A tight smile was all he received in return. The traveler then turned
away from him. “Come. We have much work to do. I will inform you of your
assignment when the black and white moons meet in the middle. For now, we must
train.”

Julien furrowed his brow. “The next partial eclipse will not happen for
months. I seek my vengeance now.”

Jacques laughed. “Ah, you young ones have no patience. Your sister’s
soul will be freed when
Judias
is destroyed. Do you
know how to do that?”

“You’ll tell me how and I’ll do it.”

He cocked his brow. “You must learn how to track a warlock to its
hunting ground. It’s not too hard when it is ready to feed, for the smell is—very
pungent. A traveler’s sense of smell is rather strong. It is heightened
ten-fold over that of a witch. You must remove the warlock’s venomous fangs, in
one piece—and viola. Simple.”

“Well—how do you get close enough to a warlock to do that? Don’t they
have five blades on each hand?”

“Yes. Did you also know that they can take the form of any soul they
have trapped?”

“I have heard of such a thing. The humans had a case of a serial killer
whose description kept changing. I assume he was eventually caught by a
traveler.”

Jacques only affirmation was a smirk. “A traveler’s biggest worry is
for a human, in a position of great power, to be devoured by a warlock. The
warlock then assumes the identity of that human—and the consequences can be catastrophic.”

“Such as the case of Hitler?”

“Yes.”

“But, doesn’t that human have to possess some supernatural gift?”

“That is also true. It is rare, but history has shown us it can happen.
And can easily happen again. This is why our covens do everything we can to
make sure the humans dismiss these powers as nothing but hocus pocus. It is too
dangerous, otherwise. Luckily, most humans with a supernatural capacity repress
it. However, you do get some who learn how to use it to their advantage and
control others. Charles Manson was one such human. It made him an easy target
for the warlock who took his soul.”

“A warlock can hide under the human cloak for how long?”

“Until they get hungry.”
Jacques raised his arms and within seconds
they stood in a green field with nothing around for miles. “Come, Julien. There
is much to learn.”

 

Chapter Six

 

It was after midnight, and Giselle lay awake in her bed anxiously awaiting
her
vision. It had been the same scenario
for weeks now. Coming only when she was relaxed, this vision was without
malice. The faceless man, whom she assumed would become a lover, touched her in
a way she’d never been touched before. Always bringing her to the height of
desire
,
 
the
experience was pleasurable as much as it was frustrating. She was sure she’d
never met him before. And if her visions always came after the fact, then what
was going on?
Wishful
thinking, maybe.
She
hunkered down under the sheets and stared at her ceiling fan. Around and around
and around it went.
Still nothing.
Irritated, she
threw back the covers and got out of bed.

Retreating to the bathroom, Giselle threw cold water on her face.
Dabbing her skin with a towel, she stared at her reflection. Her long wavy hair
hung over her eyes, shameful eyes. As she pushed the thick, dark ringlets away
from her forehead, Giselle realized she couldn’t get away from herself. Her twentieth
birthday loomed ever closer, and her fear of the uprising took hold. Would she
turn into evil incarnate? Or would she somehow manage to wield great power?

She trudged back to her bed, sat on the edge, and thought about the
last ten years. It was her tenth birthday when she had her first vision. Her
need to understand what was happening to her outweighed the horror of what she
witnessed.

But it was her mother’s words that stopped her cold. Grabbing her arm, her
mother spat. “
It’s happening. You have
the blood of
Natas
running through your veins! The
evil you see foretells of your future. You will be what you see. Look away,
Giselle! You must repel the visions. The evil is looking for a way in. Don’t
let it in. Keep it out.”

But it was hopeless. The visions came for her one night after the next.

That summer, her mother woke her in the middle of the night, taking her
from the only home she had ever known, and they left the French Quarter of New
Orleans. They arrived in Washington, Louisiana, where her mother introduced her
to an old friend of her
great-grandmother’s
, Angelique
Fayette. The woman’s compassion fueled Giselle to be strong when her mother
picked up, left her, and never returned. She climbed back into her bed. Sadness
held her in its indelible grip until the second thing she craved most came for
her. Sleep.

****

Angelique reveled in the placid quiet of early mornings. She took her
time enjoying the most simple of tasks. Whether it was baking delicious sweet
breads or brewing a strong pot of coffee, she practiced living in the moment. But
on this morning, her usual routine had been interrupted, and her voice rose
above its normal pitch. Holding the phone receiver to her ear, she violently
shook her head, loosening the blondish-white bun at her nape. “No! I am adamant
about this, Percy! Cecily
Jareau
took off and left
her for ten years without so much as a word. Do you think, with everything
going on, she is up for a reunion with that woman? I’ve told you everything I
know. We’ve been over it hundreds of times. I—I don’t know who Giselle’s father
is. These witches today are encouraged to bed all the males they can. I think it’s
disgraceful. The ways of the coven should require the father and husband to be
one and the same. Percy, you are head of the royals, there must be something
you can do to get Cecily to reveal the truth. She wants us to believe Giselle
carries a curse and we shouldn’t trust her, but at the same time, she wants us
to hide her and keep her under our protection. It makes no sense.”

Resentment poured from Angelique like a faucet on full blast. The house
quaked with emotion and the atmosphere crackled with energy. The appliances
flickered on and off. A vase floated in the distance, the television screen
sputtered images of dark and light. A car engine could be heard outside humming,
while every ceiling fan in the house spun out of control. Out of the corner of
her eye, Angelique saw Giselle slowly descend the steps. She watched her
reaction, witnessing Angelique’s tirade. In Giselle’s eyes, it must be an
anomaly.

Hanging up the phone, Angelique took a slow controlled breath, bringing
everything to a screeching halt.

Giselle stood at the bottom of the stairs, staring at her.

Angelique approached her. “I’m sorry my dear. I know it’s a rarity, but
I lost my temper.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, sucking air between clenched teeth
as if quelling a sharp pain between her eyes. After a moment, a slight
vibration was the only evidence of the chaos happening seconds before.

Angelique struggled for control by breathing slowly and keeping her
voice calm. Never one to tiptoe around any subject, she told Giselle what made
her so angry. “Sweetie, your mother has returned to Cottonwood Landing.”

Giselle stared at her.

Angelique nodded her head in disgust.
“Mm hmm.
And here’s the best part. She wants
you
to
go there
.

Giselle bit her top lip, “Well—I refuse. Can’t I refuse?”

Angelique shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I’m afraid
you might not have a choice. If I know Percy the way I do, he’ll send a
traveler here to escort you to Cottonwood Landing.”

“This is my home, Aunt Angelique. I live here.
With
you.
Please don’t send me back.
Especially to her.
I’m not ready.”

A no nonsense woman, Angelique decided to give it to her straight. “I’m
afraid we’ve reached the end of the line. We are in a do or die situation. I’ve
been ginger with you for
years,
I’ve never pushed or
prodded you. But, as much as I protest, it is the right thing to do. We are
losing members of the coven to the warlocks at a maddening pace, and it must
end. The travelers are outnumbered. They cannot be everywhere. You are the only
one who holds the power to stop
Natas
. I believe you
can do it. You must go and do what you were born to do.”

She watched Giselle slowly blink her eyes, the information sinking in.

“Fighting
Natas
is the sole purpose of my
existence? The only reason I am here? Is it not to love or be loved?
To give life with my body?
I want to be a special light in
the lives of the hopeless.”

Angelique offered a sympathetic smile. “Giselle, the tenth power
is
light.
You,
Mon Cheri
, can be
the light of the world.”

Giselle leaned her weight on the baluster. “How much time do I have?”

“I’d guess a week, but no more. They won’t risk it. Soon, you will have
warlocks hot on your trail. They’ll need to take you alive Giselle, don’t be
afraid to fight them.”

She sputtered a sorry giggle. “Fight them? I can’t even get a spell
right. No—I was hoping I’d meet—” Giselle hushed.

Angelique knew she wanted something. “Tell me. What is it that you
want?”

“I’d like to visit Desiree Mercier.”

Angelique rolled her eyes. “Ugh. That coven is way too modern for my
taste.
And the French Quarter?
It’s so dangerous.”

“Okay.” She said sheepishly, turning around to walk up the stairs.

Angelique wanted desperately to make her happy. “Wait. I hope I’m not
sorry about this but—go.”

Mid way up the stairs Giselle stopped, turned around and smiled at her.
“Thank you Aunt Angelique. You won’t regret this.”

“I already do, dear.”

 

Chapter Seven

 

Jacques
LaFeoure
paced near the edge of a waterfall,
worry creasing his brow. The sound of water gushing into the river below was
loud, but serene. The time had come for Julien to return to the earthly realm. But,
it wasn’t his safety that had Jacques concerned. Julien sailed through his final
challenge, leaving Jacques to think him one of the best warriors he’d seen this
century. What troubled him was his daughter, Giselle’s, sudden trip to New
Orleans. And, since he also had the gift of the veil, it surprised him.
How did I not see that coming?

As a pristine Umbrella Cockatoo flew overhead, squawking in his
direction, Jacques chuckled. The bird gave an elaborate acrobatic display as it
circled him, landing squarely on his shoulder.
“Ah, Simon.
You always come when I call.” The bird bobbed its head up and down.

“I won’t keep you. I know how much you love to fly, and here in this
realm, there is never a time limit.”

The bird lifted its foot to its beak, biting at its claw.

“I need you in New Orleans.”

Stopping immediately, the bird lifted it head and squawked loudly.

“Yes—I know how you feel. We all have our history. You must find a
witch named Desiree Mercier. She will try to interfere with the tenth power.
You must stop her. Keep in mind, her intention is out of love. That is all.”

The cockatoo flapped its wings before taking flight.

Jacques stood tall, mesmerized by the bird’s exit as it flew high above
the falls, then dropped, driving its body faster and faster toward the bottom
of the waterfall. “Show off.” He muttered.

“Who’s a show off?” Julien stood looking around, clearly confused.

“Hello, Julien. I informed the master of your success. It is time to
transition.”

Julien straightened his spine and smiled wide. He not only looked like
a warrior, he looked anxious to get started. He bowed his head in a display of
respect.
“And my assignment?”

BOOK: A Late Summer Bloom
10.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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