The Casquette Girls (45 page)

When I peeked through the kitchen door curtain, I saw the crow perched on the fence, just like he had been last night. I remembered how tired Isaac had looked before our fight. He must have gotten even less sleep than me. Part of me wanted to invite him in.

I closed the curtain and made coffee instead.

I’ve already broken Adeline’s spell-line. Isn’t that enough? Breaking the rest of the curse is not my proble
m
.
I couldn’t even if I wanted to… not without a coven.

“
The only other way to break it would be if all the inheritors died,” I whispered.

“People will die in retaliation if you don’t break the curse—”

“UGH! This cannot be happening!”

Exhausted, I gulped the cup of black coffee and reluctantly pulled out both my journal and Adeline’s diary
to search for answers. I uncapped a pen. A yawn so strong overtook me, my eyes watered. The front burner on the stove exploded with flames.

“Well, help me, then!” I yelled, jumping up from my seat. “If you don’t want your stupid curse broken, then help me, Adeline!”

I blew out the fire, but the flames just popped right back up. I blew out the burner again, opened the stove, blew out the pilot light, and turned back to my chair.

But instantly I felt the glow beckoning from behind me.

When I turned to give it my attention, rings of fire began to light around the other three burners until all four were ablaze. My fingers burned, but the warmth was comforting.

“It’s your curse now,” Nicco said.

Focused on the fire, I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself. The flames slowly simmered into nothing.

I sat back down, turned the page, and began to think in French.

* * *

“Adele, wake up,” my father said, frantically shaking my shoulder.

“What?” I carefully peeled my face from Adeline’s diary.

“I don’t know how to tell you this.”

I twisted my back in pain, realizing I had fallen asleep sitting at the kitchen table. He squatted down so he was eye level with me and took both of my hands.

“Dad, what’s wrong?” The look on his face made my eyes instantly well.

“There’s no easy way to tell you this, darling. Something horrible has happened to the Michels.”

My heart leapt out of my chest.

“Jeanne and Sébastien?”

“No, honey, the kids are fine.”

“Then…”

“It’s Bertrand and Sabine.”

“Has there been an accident?” I choked out. Tears began to pour down my face as Nicco’s comment about retaliation echoed in my head.

“It wasn’t an accident, sweetheart.” He squeezed my hand.

I began to hyperventilate.

He didn’t have to say anything else. I knew they were dead.

“I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person then.”

Lewis Carroll,
 Alice in Wonderland

October 30
th

Blue. White. Red.

“Adele?”

Red. White. Blue.

“Adele?”

Blue. White. Red.

I stared directly into the flashes of light, and the colors began to blur together. Everything faded into bright white, and then went black. A spectrum of spots began dancing in front of my eyes until dizziness filled my head like a balloon. I wanted to float away.

“Adele, can you please answer the question?”

I blinked a few times, and the detective came back into focus. My nose was cold, as were my ears. He continued to say my name. My cheeks were warm from two steady streams of tears. I watched my breath vaporize in the chilly, dark air, as I wrapped my hands around Jeanne’s freezing fingers. Her head was buried in my lap, whimpering.

“Adele, where were you last night from the hours of nine o’clock to midnight?”

“Back off, Detective,” someone said, almost as if he were pulling the words from my mind. “You heard what Mac said.” It was Sébastien’s voice – he was sitting next to me on the cold bench. I’d never heard him say my father’s first name before. It sounded strange. His arm tightened around my shoulder.

“I know this is difficult, Sébastien—”

“Back off!” he yelled, standing up so he was eye level with the detective. “She’s in shock, and she’s a minor.”

Sébastien
never
raised his voice. It made Jeanne cry harder, but Detective Matthews got the message and walked away to consult with his team.

“
Merci beaucoup
,” I whispered as he resumed his position next to me.

I had no clue how long the three of us had been sitting on the bench in front of Café Orléans, but the sun still wasn’t showing signs of rising and my back was numb from the cold bench. My father wouldn’t let us inside, and we didn’t dare look behind us through the window, where the two bodies were being catalogued and prepped for autopsy.

A man with a portable crime-scene lab walked passed us, yawning, and entered the café. “Did you guys really have to wake me for this one? I’ve worked three shifts in a row. I don’t even see any blood spatter.”

“That’s just it,” answered one of the crime scene investigators. “There’s no blood on site. No blood at all.”

My stomach lurched, causing Jeanne to lift her head from my lap and sit up. I pinned my lips shut and bolted as vomit rose in my throat. I made it just far enough to turn the corner of the café before the contents of my stomach spewed into the gutter. It didn’t take long before my system was totally void of plastic cheese, but I couldn’t stop gagging, and soon, I was staring into a puddle of neon-colored bile. The stomach acid burned my throat, but all I could think was that I deserved it.

This is all your faul
t
.

In between my wheezing and coughing, someone scooped back my hair. I continued to dry heave, and a strong but delicate hand rubbed my back.

“Breathe,
mon cœur
,” a woman whispered.

I whipped around, and my mother steadied me as I barely avoided a tumble into my own vomit. I quickly regained my balance and jerked away from her. “What are you doing here?”

“I am so sorry, Adele.” Her voice was as solid as her touch. “I wish I could take away your pain.”

“Ha!” my raw throat croaked. “All you’ve ever done is cause pain!”

“I know. This is all my fault. I never should have left you. You were so young. I don’t expect you to forgive me, nor to understand.”

“Understand?” I shouted. “Do not patronize me.”

“That wasn’t my intention. I simply meant, things are complicated… more complicated than anyone should have to deal with. Especially a sixteen-year-old girl as sweet as you.”

Her words induced another wave of nausea, but there was nothing left in my stomach but pain. Somewhere deep down inside me was a little girl who wanted the comfort of her mother, who wanted to cry into her sweater and confide everything, but I had no recollection of what a mother’s comfort was. There was nothing my mother could do to help. The horror would continue unless I took care of it myself.

“I can’t do this,” I mumbled and walked down the foggy street, wiping tears and snot onto the back of my hand.

It was my turn to make a move, but I didn’t know the play.

* * *

I managed three blocks alone before I saw Isaac coming towards me in his work boots and barely-there ponytail. Yesterday I would have crossed the street to avoid him, but my issues with Isaac didn’t matter anymore. All of my energy had been used up hating myself.

He stopped when I got close.

“Not now, Isaac,” I said, defeated.

“Your dad just texted me. I know I’m the last person you want to see, but I just want you to know that I’m here for you. Okay?” He pushed the loose hair from his face, revealing concern. I was already tired of getting that look from people. I didn’t deserve sympathy – if they only knew what I’d done.

“Okay.”

“He’s looking for you. Mac. Check your phone.”

I nodded and hurried away, hoping the dense morning fog would quickly hide me from the worried gaze I could feel on my back.

* * *

The shrill of Désirée’s car alarm being activated made me wince. I squinted at the watch on my trembling hand. It was light
out… I hadn’t even noticed the sun rising. I’d only been sitting on the stoop at Vodou Pourvoyeur for twenty-three minutes, but I hardly remembered calling Désirée. The entire morning felt like a dream. A bad dream.

“Jesus Christ, Adele! You’re shaking,” she said, crouching down in front of me. “Why didn’t you ring the bell? Gran would have let you in.”

I tried to think of an answer, but the question felt overly complex, and I just ended up staring at her blankly. She helped me up from the cold cement step and ushered me inside.

When she reached out to lock the deadbolt behind us, the metal snapped shut before her hand touched it. She raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask questions. Instead, she motioned for me to follow her to the back room.

I collapsed next to the fireplace and concentrated on taking shallow breaths while she bent to light the hearth. Again, I beat her to it.

She looked at me as the bright orange flames leapt higher. “You really need to try
to calm down, okay?”

I nodded and shut my eyes. The memory of begging my father – forcing him to return us to town – suddenly became very vivid. This could all have been avoided had I just stayed in Paris. At boarding school. With my mother. With Émile.

Émile. Emilio?

My stomach twisted.
Had all of this really started in Paris, just like it had for Adeline?
My memories spun. Sneaking around Paris with Émile. His promise to see me soon, when I left France. The Waffle House. The crow attack. The convent. The rain of metal as the nails dropped to the ground. The shutter flapping, drawing me closer and closer. Controlling me. Crashing. The whoosh of energy as the monsters whipped past me.

Me.

So stupid. So
naïve
.

Only now was I starting to recognize that sensation of supernatural energy.

Désirée waved her hand in front of my face, and a sharp scent filled my nostrils, followed by sweet notes. Citrus.

“What is that?”

“It’s just oil: sandalwood, blood orange and sage. It should help you calm down.” She sat down on the floor across from me, and I closed my eyes as her warm fingers rubbed the oil into my temples.

Breath
e
.

The fire crackled. The warmth from the flames made my face tingle. It felt like it was defrosting.

“She warned me,” I said, still shaking. “She warned me last night, on my way here, but I didn’t know they would act so fast. I should have listened… done something, but I didn’t know what to do.” My voice cracked. “Even Nicco told me they were going to retaliate, but I was so tired. I fell asleep when I got home.”

“Who warned you?”

My throat croaked, fighting the tears.

“It doesn’t matter now, Adele. There was nothing you could have done.” Her arms circled around my shoulders. “This is not your fault.” She rested her forehead against mine and held my head up with hers as I cried out the remaining tears from my system.

The pungent aroma soaked in, making me feel a little high; I straightened my back, wiping my eyes, and inhaled deeper. She took both of my hands and whispered unfamiliar words under her breath, almost like a chant. My mind began to drift.

Suddenly her grip tightened, and her big, almond-shaped eyes popped open as she gasped.

“What just happened?” I asked. “I feel really light.”

“Nothing, I just transferred some of your energy.”

I didn’t know what that meant, but I thanked her anyway. I didn’t exactly feel chipper, but the physical pain had numbed, like someone had given me a jumbo dose of morphine.

“We have to break the curse,” I said.

“Either that or we have to kill all the vampires.”

My heart nearly stopped
. I knew that she knew.

My nose nuzzled into a soft, warm fabric. I felt safe, and for a few seconds I was awake without remembering the nightmare that had become my reality. Then, as I sat up from the cocoon of brightly colored blankets and pillows, it all rushed back to me like a boulder to the chest.