Daughter of the Thirteen: Bourbon Street Witches Book 1 (12 page)

In spite of her hunger, or perhaps because of it, she couldn’t do it. There was no denying that she was tempted, but just as she was ready to give in, she would see Sister Agnes shaking her head in disappointment.

Bridgett rapped on Mora and Arlene’s bedroom door. When they didn’t answer right away, she knocked again.

“Hold your horses!” Mora called from behind the door.

When Mora swung the door open, she looked a sight. Her sandy hair dripped water, and she had a towel draped over her shoulders.

“Can’t a girl relax after her bath?” Mora scowled.

A quick glance inside the room told Bridgett that Arlene was already in bed.

Well there was no helping it. This was as much their problem as it was hers.

“Laurel is gone. She’s not in bed, or anywhere.”

“Are you sure?” Mora asked. “I noticed she wasn’t around earlier, but I just thought she’d gone to bed.”

Bridgett shook her head. “She’s not here.”

Arlene sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “I saw her in the kitchen … just before we closed the doors for the night.”

Bridgett began chewing at her bottom lip, a bad habit when she became stressed. “We have to find her. Laurel might as well have a bounty on her head with all the witches and demons after her.”

“Don’t forget the vampires,” Arlene reminded them.

The vampires were a given. They were after anyone who could mix a potion and add a dash of magic to it.

“If no one has seen her for a couple hours, we’ve already lost a lot of time,” Bridget told them.

Arlene threw the blankets off. “What are we going to do?”

“A locator spell,” Bridgett informed them. “I’ll get some hair from her brush. Meet me in the work room.”

Mora and Arlene were already waiting for her when Bridgett entered.

“Mora, will you get the candles ready?” Bridgett asked as she was pulling a golden bowl from beneath the altar.

“I’ll take care of the jasmine,” Arlene volunteered.

Mora grabbed four blue and one white candle. After placing the blue candles in the corners of the room, one for each of the directions, she put the white candle on the altar.

Soon the room began to fill with the scent of burning jasmine.

Taking a few strands of Laurel’s hair, Bridgett held the flame of the candle to them until they burned and the singed hair fell into the bowl. Next, she picked up a clear bottle filled with the blood of crows.

Bridgett’s voice echoed through the room, joined by the voices of the other two witches.

“Let the blood of the crow show us Laurel!”

They chanted the phrase six times before Bridgett filled the bowl full of blood. Holding hands, the three witches gazed into the crimson liquid.

The bowl erupted in flames, sending smoke billowing into the air, but within that smoke, there was a vision of Laurel being consumed by fire.

“Where?” Bridgett yelled.

The scene changed and they were looking at Cypress Grove.

Bridgett shook her head violently. “It can’t be! Marcos wouldn’t do that.”

“Is that his place?” Mora asked with a raised brow.

“Yes, but he wouldn’t bring her into the Underworld,” Bridgett insisted.

“How do you know that for sure?” Arlene asked.

“I refuse to believe it,” Bridgett frowned. “He’s protected her since they were children. I can’t see him doing something like this now.”

Mora dropped Arlene’s hand. “Well someone is,” she sighed.

“Instead of standing here and bickering about it, don’t you think we should be getting out there?” Arlene intervened.

“If Marcos really has gone to the dark side, he’ll be too powerful for us … and lets not forget that he’ll have the coven on his side,” Bridgett pointed out.

“It’s true,” Mora agreed. “We are more powerful together, but we aren’t going to be any match for the coven, especially on account of at least twelve of them were fathered by … you know who,” she finished, refusing to utter the name of the ultimate dark one.

Making her way around the room, Arlene blew out each of the blue candles before adding her own thoughts. “We need help, and the only one I can think of who might be willing to get involved, is that vampire … Bale Spencer.”

Bridgett threw her a look of indignation. “You are not series! Witches and vampires don’t mix. They want our blood, and we want them to vanish.”

“As much as I despise vampires … she has a point,” Mora interjected. “They won’t be able to kill a vampire near as easy as they could us … and the undead are mostly immune to witch tricks. They can’t use witchery to get into their heads. Not to mention, a vampire has a hundred times our strength.”

Bridgett held up her hands. “Okay … I need some quiet while I think about this.”

Everything Mora said was true. Not that she actually thought a vampire would be that much help, but having one with them was better than going it alone.

“Do you even know how to find Bale Spencer?” Bridgett asked.

Mora nodded. “I think so.”

“Don’t forget … we’ll likely have to do some bargaining with him.” Bridgett’s face twisted with annoyance. “Nothing worse than making deals with vampires,” she grumbled.

“Sure there is.” Arlene smiled. “Making a deal with the devil would be much worse.”

* * *

As soon as they were through the doors of Cypress Grove, everything took on a dreamlike quality.

Stopping abruptly, Marcos grabbed her shoulders. “Laurel … please understand, what I am going to do, is for you.”

Confused by his sudden change in manner, she tried to pull away, but she couldn’t shake his grip on her.

“What’s wrong with you? What do you plan to do?” she asked, a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he backed away as she felt hands on each of her arms. Two women were in the process of dragging her up the massive spiral staircase that would take them to the second floor.

“Marcos!” Laurel screamed.

Through her terror, she could see the despair on his face, but still he did nothing to help her.

Struggling against the women was useless. They were as strong as men, maybe even stronger.

They were probably demons, or at the very least, they were demon hybrids.

But she wasn’t completely helpless!

After all, she was a witch!

Taking a deep breath, she released her energy and their hands erupted into flames. As soon as she felt them release her, she scrambled up the stairs. She had one thought in mind.

Finding a place to hide.

Hiding from witches and demons was a pathetic plan at best, but she had to do something.

She’d nearly reached the top when she noticed a dark figure on the landing. The witches were coming up the stairs and a shadowy figure was blocking her escape from the second floor.

She was trapped!

Laurel figured that she’d have a better chance of overcoming the one on the landing, as opposed to the two demons coming up the stairs.

With grim determination, she headed right for the shadow, expecting to plow into something solid. She was surprised when she hit empty air.

But it wasn’t really empty.

As soon as she touched the shadow, she was swallowed by an inky abyss.

Everything around her was bathed in darkness. The walls, the stairs, and the landing were still there, but now everything seemed inundated in shadow.

The demons were no longer on the staircase. In fact, she was completely alone. Not only was the world devoid of light, but also sound. She couldn’t even hear herself breathing.

Spinning around, she descended the stairs two at a time. She’d just reached the bottom when a vaguely familiar voice shattered the silence.

“Hello Laurel.”

Freezing, she looked around for the source of the voice. There was no one.

“I am everywhere, but I am nowhere.” The deep male voice reverberated through the still air.

Where had she heard that voice before?

“Who are you?” she called out.

“In time.” The laughter that followed sent a chill down her back.

She already knew it was the Dark Prince, but how could his voice be familiar?

“Let me go!” she demanded. “I have nothing to do with the Coven of Lazar.”

“But you do!” When he spoke, the anger in his voice actually shook the ground beneath her feet.

“I already know that you cannot force me!” she yelled into the air.

“It will be your choice,” he said. “Choose a door Laurel. Behind one of those doors is your heart’s desire, but behind another of those doors you will find me. Behind the other door … you will find death. It is your choice.”

At first she was confused, but then she noticed that the hall was different. Somehow, the darkness was alive.

The only light came from beneath the three doors directly in front of her.

In a strange way, he was offering her an escape, but it could also be a trick. How could she know for sure that he wasn’t behind all of the doors?

What would happen if she refused to make a choice?

Would the Dark Prince keep her a prisoner for eternity?

Closing her eyes, Laurel summoned the wisdom and the power of generations of witches. Slowly one of the doors began to emit a brilliant light.

As soon as she made her choice, the other doors disappeared.

She moved forward, one little step at a time. When she reached the door, she placed her hand on the doorknob. It was hot.

That couldn’t be a good sign.

Slowly, she turned the knob and pushed the door open.

His back was to her, but she knew who it was.

“Marcos!” she cried.

Dark laughter filled the room. “He is your heart’s desire.”

Laurel shook her head. “It’s a trick!”

“You have made your choice.”

As his words faded, normalcy returned.

She was lying on a bed with Marcos looking down at her, his soft features etched with worry.

“What happened?”

“Please forgive me,” he said, taking her hand in his. “It had to be your choice.”

“You did that to me?” she accused.

Marcos shook his head. “I only brought you here … where you could reach through to the other side. You had to make the choice.”

“I don’t understand,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m not even sure what my choice was. I picked a door and you were there.”

“You chose your heart’s desire.”

“That can’t be.” She tried to leave the bed, but he gently held her down.

“I knew that your heart would lead you to me. That’s the only reason I chanced it,” he explained.

“What does it all mean?” she asked, her throat so dry, it felt as if she were swallowing sand.

“It means that you have chosen your fate. You and I are destined.”

The fire she saw in his eyes seared into her heart, before winding its way over her entire body.

That was bad enough, but then he leaned down to kiss her. The caress of his lips on her mouth set her on fire.

In that instant, she realized that Marcos was the knight she’d been waiting for.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer until he was practically on top of her.

He broke away abruptly.

Bringing one hand up to caress her cheek, he whispered, “Not like this Laurel. Let me make you my wife.”

Shaking her head, she brushed his lips with a kiss. “I can’t wait any longer. You are right. We are destined.”

From the moment she recalled his childhood visits, she’d known this to be true. At first she’d resisted, afraid of who and what he was.

But there was no denying the fire he’d set in her, or the fact that he’d been the one person who’d always been there to protect her. Even when he’d stopped coming, he’d been watching over her.

“Why didn’t you tell me that we’d known each other as children?” she asked.

“You would never have believed me,” he answered. “That witch Agnes discovered I was still seeing you. She witched you to wipe away your memory of me. The nun also threatened that if I came to you again, she’d hand you over to the coven.”

“Sister Agnes would never have done that,” Laurel told him, shaking her head. “She was just trying to protect me.”

“I know.” He gave her a smile, but it was a sad smile.

“I can’t wait any longer,” she told him again.

Without another word, Marcos stood up and removed his clothing. She couldn’t help but gasp when she saw how perfect he was. The chiseled muscles of his chest - the way his waist narrowed, and his enormous erection.

When he came back to the bed, he began to slowly remove her clothes. As each article of clothing came off, he would caress that part of her body with tender kisses.