SHADOWS OF A WOLF MOON Book 5: RISE OF THE ARKANSAS WEREWOLVES (13 page)

Chapter Eighteen

“What the hell is wrong with me? I spend one night with Catty and now I can’t sleep without her.” Lucien shook his head and took another sip of the coffee he’d gotten from the nearby coffee shop. After tossing and turning last night, he needed the hit of caffeine.

He was already pussy whipped.

He’d already gone by Catty’s apartment early that morning, but she wasn’t there, so he decided to try to old lady’s house. He didn’t like her going there alone, but he doubted she would listen to anything he said. When he got to Mrs. Willis’s house, he didn’t pick up her scent. He knew right away she wasn’t there, so he didn’t even bother knocking.

After updating Barrett last night on the latest info, Barrett had asked him if he thought he needed backup. Lucien refused. He didn’t want to lose another brother if whoever was targeting Guardians found a one in New Orleans.

He turned left and cut through Jackson Square, where a few people were milling about. It was early enough that the tarot card readers and the local artists were still setting up their stuff and settling in for the day. Soon curious tourists would be flocking around, eager to buy an original print from a local artist or get a glimpse into their future from a psychic. Half the fortune tellers were frauds, giving out false hope while sticking their hands deep into the pockets of the gullible. The other half were real. If people knew the truth, then they’d stay far away from them.

He glanced up at Andrew Jackson as he passed the gray statue. Nothing had changed since he’d left New Orleans years ago. It even had the same smells. Although he did prefer the morning smells of Café du Monde to the night smells of Bourbon Street.

A young couple strolled through the park. The mom sipped on a cup of hot coffee clutched between her hands while her husband bent down to lift their little girl on his shoulders. Watching something so simple sent an ache through his heart. He’d assumed he’d end up with a mate and a child or two. He’d assumed he would have a family, like his parents and their parents before them. He’d assumed he’d have a life full family meals, raising kids and making love late into the night with the mate of his heart.

He’d assumed wrong.

The loss hit him in the gut like a steel bat, surprising even himself that he still wanted such a life. He forced his gaze away and shoved down his emotions.

He didn’t know why it mattered so much to him. He had a place with the Arkansas Pack, a place to lay his head at night, and he made damn good money being a Guardian. He had respect and prestige.

Somehow it didn’t seem like enough. He’d always wanted more.

“Lucien, what are you doing here, sweetheart?” The sound of Granny’s voice made him freeze in his tracks. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he glanced around.

The blood drained from his face. He froze when he spotted Granny and Haley headed straight toward him.

It was too late to run.

“Granny, Haley. What are you two doing here?” He forced himself to take a sip of coffee.

“We’re here getting stuff for Haley’s wedding.” Granny hiked her purse higher on her shoulder and smiled.

“You couldn’t find that stuff in Arkansas?” Barrett should have given him a heads-up if he knew Granny was on her way down here. But then again, the old woman wasn’t the kind to give people an update about her whereabouts or plans.

“Haley is from Louisiana, so we thought we’d get some cute little fleur-de-lis necklaces for the bridesmaids gifts.” Granny cocked her head narrowed her gaze. “What are you doing here? I thought you were on a motorcycle trip?”

“I am. I just stopped here on my way back. I wanted to grab some beignets and coffee before making the next leg of the trip.”

“Want to tag along with us? I’ve got another stop at this candy shop. I’m thinking of trying to expand my business. And I think I can make my own edible underwear versus going through the company.” Granny pursed her lips and shook her head. “After the last fiasco, I can do a better job of making panties, and I guarantee you no one’s toe is going to get bit off.”

Haley snorted and fought a smile.

“That’s… nice. But I am on a schedule and don’t have time.” The last thing he wanted to do was help Granny find a new flavor for her drawers.

“Too bad.” She didn’t hide the disappointment in her tone. “I suppose it’s just us girls. Be careful driving back to Little Rock, Lucien,” she said over her shoulder as they continued on to their destination.

Toe bitten off? He’d have to be sure and ask Jayden what that was about.

Once they were out of sight he glanced around, making sure no one had heard their conversation. Even in a town as busy as New Orleans, there were always eyes and ears everywhere. He walked in the direction of the apothecary, passing the tarot card readers and artists.

“There is a negative presence around you.” The tarot card reader flicked the cards between her fingers while she spoke.

He stopped and turned around, the hair on his arms standing at attention.

The old woman with the dark wrinkled skin looked up and met his gaze.

“Are you talking to me?” His narrowed gaze swept the square, looking for someone tailing him. He saw nothing out of place.

“I know you are looking for trouble. And I know real reason you are here in New Orleans.”

He took a step closer and stopped. The gentle breeze of the hot morning air ruffled her blood-red tablecloth. Unlike the other tarot card readers, she had no sign. Only a red tablecloth and a deck of cards decorated her table. An uneasy feeling stretched across his skin like old leather.

“Don’t be afraid of me. I’m only the messenger,” she said. “I only repeat what I see from the cards.”

“I’m not afraid.” He could handle one little old lady.

“Sit.” She nodded at the chair.

“I don’t have any money,” he lied.

“I don’t want your money. Consider it on the house.”

He glanced around and hesitated.

He didn’t believe in this mumbo jumbo. But something inside him told him to hear the old woman out.

Reluctantly, he sat.

She shuffled the cards, let him split them, and then shuffled again. Keeping her eyes on him, she laid out the cards in front of him.

“Something will happen between you and your lover. Death can’t be stopped.”

His gut twisted.
Catty.

“You’re wrong.” He shook his head. “I don’t have anyone special.”

“Don’t you?” The old woman snorted.

He growled and stood. The breeze lifted a card off the table and carried it into the street. She frowned and ran after it. When she sat back down, her eyes were wide with fear as she clutched the card between her trembling fingers.

“What is it?”

She pointed her gnarled finger at the black cat on the card. “You see this. There is something evil around you. Something hates you, wants to hurt you in the worst way.” Her voice trembled as she spoke.

He didn’t believe in this stuff, he reminded himself.

“You need to watch your step. Trust no one. Not even your instincts. Everything is veiled so you can’t see who is bad and who is good.”

“Wait.” He placed his hand on the table and leaned in. “You said veiled. Why did you use that word?”

She eased back in the chair. “I only speak what I see. You watch yourself, hombre lobo.”

Hombre lobo. The Spanish word for wolf man. She was clearly human. He could tell by her scent. How the hell did she know what he was?

“Relax. I’ve been around a long time. I’ve seen many things. I know too many things.” She looked away as sadness washed over her expression. “I am no threat to you. Your secret is safe with me.”

Lucien studied her weathered face for a lie. He saw none.

“Thank you,” he whispered before walking away.

He quickened his steps down the sidewalk, his gaze assessing the people on the street. He knew he had to be careful not to run into Granny again. If she spotted him going into the apothecary, she’d want to know if something was wrong. She wouldn’t stop until she was satisfied with an answer.

He came to a halt when he saw the worn sign for the apothecary hanging above the entrance. A
Closed
sign hung on the door. He checked the business hours, then glanced down at his phone.

He still had two more hours to wait.

Damn. He didn’t have two hours.

He pressed his face to the glass and cupped his hand around his eyes. Wood shelves lined the wall, all filled with vials, bottles, and jars. The small space had a bookcase set up near the cash register, along with some candles of various shapes and sizes. Looked like any other shop in New Orleans.

The movement of a dark shadow near the corner of the room caught his eye. He squinted and made out the shape of a person setting some bottles on a shelf.

He rapped at the window.

The figure, a woman, stopped and turned to face him. She shook her head and motioned to her watch on her wrist.

He gritted his teeth and shook his head. “This is important,” he called to her through the glass.

The woman stood, crossed her arms, and scowled.

“Please.”

Shaking her head, she made her way to the door. She cracked the door a couple of inches and assessed him through the gap.

“We’re not open yet.” She scowled.

He inhaled her scent. Human. Her dark brown hair, which matched her dark eyes, was cut into a severe bob. Wearing a dark blue skirt and matching top, she looked more like a principal than someone peddling spells and magic and potions.

“This is important,” he insisted.

“It’s always important.” She snorted. “Let me guess, you need a love spell or something to heal a loved one?” She gave him a bored look.

“Not exactly. If you could look at this list and tell me if you even have the ingredients, I would appreciate it.” He pulled out the list Ella had given him and shoved it through the crack in the door.

The owner took the list while keeping her gaze trained on him. She unfolded the crinkled paper and glanced down. Her eyes tracked down the page. She swallowed and raised her widened gaze back to him.

“Who gave you this list?” Her voice trembled, and she clutched the paper to her chest.

“Someone trying to help me find someone.”

“Only a true witch would know the ingredients to a spell as powerful as this.” She cut her gaze from side to side, looking over his shoulder before throwing opening the door and motioning him inside.

“Hurry up.” She grabbed him by the arm and tugged him inside.

“Thanks for letting…”

“Shush. Keep your voice down and get away from the widow.” She locked the door and took another glance outside before turning to face him. “The last thing I need is for someone to see you in my shop.” She hurried toward the back of the shop.

“Why?” He followed her, frowning as the array of scents saturated the air.

She spun around on her heel. “Don’t think I’m stupid. These ingredients”— she waved his note in the air—“are for a specific spell.”

She grabbed his arm and tugged him toward a small room near the back of the store. She motioned for him to step inside.

He scowled and shook his head.

“Look, you are going to get me into a whole lot of trouble if you don’t get your big ass inside that room.” She glanced back at the window.

“Fine.” Grudgingly he stepped inside the room so no one passing by could see him.

“Who do you work for?” She narrowed her eyes. “I can tell you’re not a witch. But you’re not exactly human either.”

“How did…” He fisted his hands.

“I can sense things.” She shook her head. “And this… this list has trouble written all over it. It reeks of death.”

His skin crawled at her words. It was going to mean death if he didn’t get the ingredients.

“But somehow I sense you’re not going to take no for an answer. Stay here and let me get all this together,” she groused.

He stayed in the shadows of the small room and peered out, making sure she was doing what she promised.

She moved from shelf to shelf, sticking items in a small brown bag. She stopped in front of the candles and bit her lip. Hesitantly she reached for three red candles and popped them in the bag.

“Candles are not on the list.” He’d carefully gone back over the list to make sure he wouldn’t forget something.

“They are just in case.”

“In case what?” He frowned.

“Look, wolf, accept help when its offered.”

He bristled and growled. She knew what he was. Did he have a fucking sign on his forehead that said “werewolf”?

“Easy.” She stepped inside the room with him and shoved the bag at his chest. “I’ve lived in New Orleans all my life. I’ve come to accept there is more supernatural shit that happens here than in any other place.” She hesitated. “Well, except for Charleston.”

“South Carolina?” He arched a brow.

She waved away his question and continued on. “I’m assuming the person you are delivering those ingredients to knows exactly how dangerous this spell is.”