Possess Me (33 page)

Bethany sighed. “Isabel had given it to her as a gift. A box they could hide secrets in. One only they could open, because they had to do it together.” She raised her eyebrows. “Isabel did love her secrets.”

She placed one finger from each hand on two indentations on either side of the box. “Now you.”

Michelle studied the remaining sides and then placed one hesitant forefinger on each of the last two indentations. The lid popped up with a click and the others gasped. Bethany slid the lid in a circle, opening it the rest of the way, as curious as everyone else.

“It’s a letter.” Michelle’s voice was hushed.

Bethany was surprised. “Catherine obviously got someone to help her put one last secret inside.”

Elise Adair huffed audibly and glided to the table. “I am not a patient woman. The suspense is killing me.” No one argued when she picked up the amazingly preserved letter and carefully unfolded it, studying the shaky handwriting. “It’s to Isabel from Catherine.”

Elise’s eyes began to water, and Bethany tapped her fingers lightly on the table, drawing the older woman’s gaze. “Out loud would probably be better.”

“Not sure about that. But okay.”

They all listened raptly as Elise read Catherine’s letter. The young Creole woman was obviously distraught and riddled with guilt over the events she had unwittingly set in motion.

Catherine had been a paid companion to Isabel, instructed by her father to inform him of Isabel’s movements, a fact she’d been okay with until they’d become friends. But she still took the money.

When Isabel fell in love with Marcel, Catherine truly believed he would break her heart, leave her as he left the others. But in the letter she wondered if she would have fought as hard to break up their relationship if she hadn’t been worried about her own future.

Antoine had tricked her. Used her concern to hatch a plan that would put Isabel in a compromising position, forcing his suit, forcing her to marry him. Catherine found out later that he was known to practice the darker arts of voodoo, about his cruelty and abuse of women. She hadn’t known what he’d planned to do to Isabel.

Catherine told Marcel when she realized Isabel wasn’t where she was supposed to be, where Antoine had promised she would find them, but she’d believed Marcel either hadn’t gotten there on time, or that he didn’t believe her. Either way, she’d been grief-stricken when Isabel’s body was found.

The group was silent as Ben’s mother read the rest of the letter. “Marcel’s mother and mine commissioned the tomb for you and Emmanuel. I begged Marie Laveau herself to deliver retribution, and since Antoine was never seen again, I have to believe she answered my prayers.

“I expect no redemption for my crimes. They are too great. You and your brother slain, Marcel missing, all for my poor judgment and disbelief in the oldest and strongest magic of all—love. Neither I, nor any of my line, shall find lasting happiness in love until this debt is repaid. That is my vow to you. My vow to God. Forever your friend, Catherine Toussaint.” Elise was visibly shaken as she read the last line, looking toward Mambo Toussaint with damp eyes. “Oh, Annemarie.”

“The last piece of the puzzle.” Everyone turned to Allegra, who gestured to Bethany. “Don’t you see? If you’re Isabel and Michelle is—
was
Catherine, then the debt has been repaid. She got rid of Antoine. She saved you and Bone Daddy.”

“And Marcel saved his Isabel.” Bethany smiled through her tears. She stood and Michelle rushed into her arms, both of them hugging each other, crying and laughing together.

“Fate is a funny thing.” Mambo Toussaint wiped her eyes with a nearby napkin. “Michelle was always obsessed with Isabel’s treasure, Ben bought the house for Michelle, and together, they made sure Bethany came back home to fix all that had been broken.”

Bethany pulled away from Michelle, feeling the walls closing in on her again. “Not all. Some things can’t be fixed.”

“What about the Gate of Guinee?”

Bethany looked at Elise with a frown. “The Gate of Whozee?”

Mambo Toussaint shook her head. “It’s too dangerous. They could just as easily decide to keep her over there as let him go. Although it does seem more and more like he is one loophole they might be okay with closing. A Loa but not a Loa.”

“What. Are. You. Talking. About?” Bethany’s teeth were clenched, and her heart was pounding. Was there a way to bring him back? “If I’m the only one in danger, if there’s the slimmest chance I could bring him back to me, I say let’s do it.”

Michelle tilted her head, listening to something only she could hear. “They are talking about the gateway to the other side, Bethany. And Emmanuel says he wants to go with you. So you don’t have to be alone.”

 

 

 

“OKAY, BETHANY. THIS IS NOT THE WEIRDEST THING YOU’VE
ever done.”

True, she was wearing a strong-smelling pouch of protection around her neck, held a piece of rum cake in her hand, and was currently walking all over the city looking for a nonexistent cemetery gate while talking to the ghost of her brother from a past life—but surely she’d done worse.

“If you look for the gate, it starts looking for you.” That’s what the Mambo had said. Every native of the Crescent City knew about it, but it wasn’t on any of the tours. It was the gate to the other side. If you were determined to speak to the dead, ask them a question, you could find it. Of course, there was every chance you would die, or be held there as those you loved died, leaving you in a state of purgatory.

“All lovely choices,” she mumbled, trudging through the Quarter, trying to build up her nerve.

There’d been no question in her mind that she would do it. For Isabel, who’d loved him helplessly, trapped by her own innocence and the times she lived in. For herself, for the chance to tell him what she hadn’t. That she, Bethany, was in love with him, and she didn’t want to be without him.

She turned a corner and stopped, looking behind her and back down at her map. There shouldn’t be a cemetery on this street, but she was looking directly at it. The map fluttered in the sudden breeze and she folded it up, slipping it in her pocket and holding her hand open at her side. “Take my hand, Emmanuel. Don’t be afraid.”

She felt her palm cool and smiled. Somehow, she did feel better with him at her side. Isabel had loved her little brother as though he were her own child. She’d wanted to take him with them when she and Marcel ran away. He hadn’t deserved his fate. None of them had.

The wrought-iron gate began to open on its own. She saw sparks flying off it, strange lights, and she shivered, recalling something Allegra had told her. “Sometimes it’s that leap into the darkness that can be the most worthwhile.”

She took a deep breath and began to walk forward, feeling compelled. No turning back now. “Time to leap.”

 

 

 

THE AIR HAD CHANGED. THE SKY. AS IF THE COLOR HAD
been swept out of the world, leaving in its place a sepia-toned copy. There were tombs lining the road, a few benches here and there, even a shack in the distance. But it wasn’t right. It didn’t feel real.

“You look lost, little girl.”

She whipped around, gasping as she realized the gate had disappeared, leaving the barren road, with another crossing it, heading off into forever. And a man. A kindly old black man with a smile and a curious expression. The hair on his head and face was white, and he was leaning on a cane.

“Where am I?”

He shook his head. “Is that your question? You only get one, I know they told you that. Better make sure it’s a good one.”

“You look familiar.” Bethany squeaked at the young male voice, surprised to feel a tight grip on her hand where before there’d only been a cool breeze. Standing beside her was a ten-year-old boy with raven-black hair and large blue eyes. Emmanuel.

The man’s smile broadened at the boy’s words. “You’ve seen me before, Manuel. Isn’t that what your sister always called you? I knew I’d see you again. You’ve been very brave.”

The boy puffed his chest out at the male admiration, his expression proud. “Men should take care of the people they love.”

“That’s right. That’s right. Good boy.” Sparkling eyes lifted to meet Bethany’s gaze, though he was still talking to Emmanuel. “I once knew a man whose heart was pure, who tried to protect the people he loved. A long time ago, on the evening of All Saints’ I believe, he nearly died trying to save his dead lover’s little brother from being sacrificed along with her.”

Bethany held her breath, knowing he was talking about Marcel.

Emmanuel’s eyes widened. “What happened to him?”

“Well, boy. You know Papa Ghede protects the innocent, and the very young. It was his night to roam the earth, and when he realized what had happened, he took pity on the man, the son of someone so close to the powerful voodoo queen.”

Marie Laveau? It had to be. Marcel’s mother had been one of her apprentices. Bethany opened her mouth to ask a question, and the old man’s finger came up to silence her. “One question. But wait until I’m done telling this sweet child my story.”

She nodded and he continued. “The man was heartsick. Pained in a way that no doctor could heal. The Loa have power, but even if they could have turned back the clock, as they had before, Ghede knew the world was not ready for what this man truly desired. A chance to live, free and in love, with his woman.

“The only thing to do was wait. But Ghede knew the man would go mad with the memories and it would twist him in the in-between time, so he made him forget. Had me watch over the man while we allowed him to spend the years he would have to wait for his chance to come round again doing what he did best.”

“Pleasuring women.” Bethany nodded. In a way, it made perfect sense.

The old man shushed her. “I wasn’t planning on saying that in front of the child, but yes. Okay, I’ve told my story. You may ask one question now.”

Her heart pounded. She understood now. They’d given Marcel a gift, a chance. He’d never actually died. He’d just become Bone Daddy. A temporary Loa. Which explained why he knew so little about his own kind. He wasn’t truly one of them. Not completely.

She only had one question. “How can he return to my world, to live out a life with me?”

He chuckled. “That sure he wants to, eh?”

Isabel may have had a doubt. Bethany didn’t. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

He nodded. “That’s good. Much better. Well, I suppose the answer to your question is clear. All he has to do is ask.”

“I’m asking. I want to be with Bethany.”

She was afraid to turn around. He was here. Right behind her. She shuddered, looking down to see that Emmanuel was beaming, almost glowing with happiness. She watched the old man tilt his head, looking at Bone Daddy over her shoulder.

“You sure? You’ll be human. One short, fragile life. With only one woman.”

She glared at the smiling man, but he was ignoring her, waiting for Bone Daddy’s answer.

“I’m sure. I love her.”

A tear slipped down her cheek. He loved her. She’d known, but hearing him say it with no hesitation, choosing her over an immortal life of sensual satisfaction . . . How could she ask for a stronger declaration of his love?

“The only thing left is the toll.” The old man stood up straighter, his smile gone, white eyebrow raised.

“But I brought cake.” No one had told her about a toll. Had he let them both come all this way, only to keep them here?

“I’ll stay.”

“Emmanuel, no.” Bethany reached for his hand, but he’d slipped away, going to stand beside the older man, expectation and excitement on his face.

The man tapped his pants thoughtfully with his straw hat. “You would certainly work. You think you’re ready for what’s down the road?”

Emmanuel was nearly hopping with excitement. “What
is
down the road?”

“You know what they say. My father’s house has many mansions. Go wait for me by the corner.”

Emmanuel turned back to Bethany, wrapping his arms around her in a warm hug, then before she could return the favor, he was sprinting toward the crossroad.

“You’ve been a good mentor to me. A good friend. Thank you, Papa Legba.”

Bone Daddy laid a hand on her shoulder and she gasped at his touch.

“And you’re a good boy. Take care of yourself, and don’t go being a hero. We may not be around the next time to save your bacon. Bacon. Hah.” Papa Legba winked at her and then he was gone. All of it was gone.

But she could still feel him beside her. Where he belonged.

“I’m not taking any chances.”

“But, Bethany, if you leave me like this, how can I bring you pleasure?”

Bethany stood at the foot of the bed, smiling in satisfaction at her handiwork. She’d used some of the silk shawls leftover from last week’s celebration to tie him to the four-poster bed. Naked.