The Casquette Girls (66 page)

Everything was peaceful and serene. Sleepy. So, so sleepy.

When my eyes fluttered, all I saw were thousands of stars in the pitch-black sky. That’s the nice thing about no electricity. Stars.

I heard noises in the distance.

People.

Celebration.

Trumpets.

The deep brass tones had always brought me such comfort in the past, but now I worried they were being blown from Gabriel’s horn – the Angel Gabriel, not the vampire.

Ugh, vampires.

My heavy eyelids slowly blinked open, making me very aware of the weight of my own eyeballs. I struggled to focus on a new shape coming into view.

A big triangle.

No, a cone.

A big ice cream cone.

Maybe I’m in heaven?

I squinted to sharpen my focus on the giant ice cream cone, and pressure flooded my head. My neck turned slightly to try to release the tension, and the outline of another object appeared. I stared at the lines that separated the negative and positive space until a church came into focus.

Something was wrong.

It was upside down.

Why is there an upside church on top of a giant ice cream cone?
The church looked like the Cathedral. Once more, I tried to refocus my eyes. My head fell to the side, and the ice cream cone suddenly reminded me of the bell tower.

Our bell tower.

Nicco let go of my hands.

Nicco tried to kill me.

Maybe Nicco did kill me?

I gasped for air and was struck with a wave of vertigo. My hand slapped for something solid to ease the spinning, but I just ended up swatting air. The pressure was building in my head because I was upside down.

I was not, in fact, splattered on the concrete.

A focused stream of wind was pushing the arch of my back up towards the sky like a geyser while my body hung limp like a rag doll. I was no longer falling, but floating upwards. Up, up, up towards the looming crescent moon that hung low over the Crescent City.

My city.

I quickly dropped as the jet of air morphed.

The gust caught me again, this time like a mitt. I wheezed as the wind flipped me around. Right side up, the vertigo eased, and I extended my left arm to help navigate. My wings whipped up to the celestial sky, and I felt like I was flying up to the heavens.

Is this the way to heaven?

My blood-caked hair blew behind me, and the night air began to cool my dangerously feverish body temperature, sending ripples of tickles to the tips of my toes. The strength of the gust held me tight, and the thickness of the wet air wrapped a comforting familiarity around me that almost made me smile.

Fear abandoned me as the gale carried me closer to the glistening Mississippi and back to the
Vieux Carr
é
.

* * *

The rendezvous point came within my line of sight, and the gentle twister slowly began my descent onto the cupola of the
Presbytère
, the historic building adjacent to the ice-cream-cone steeples of the St. Louis Cathedral. The wind dissipated, and I fell the last six feet without much grace, but despite the lack of magic, Isaac moved underneath me to break my fall.

Emotions pummeled me as I tried to stand on solid ground. He held me steady by my left elbow while examining my other arm. I tapped my foot on the stone floor, reveling in the sensation of stability.

“He tried to kill me,” I choked out, not quite able to look Isaac in the eyes, overridden by the need for some kind of confession. An admission of guilt. “You were right all along.”

“What?” he asked, pulling me closer. “Who? What the hell happened, Adele? You’re covered in blood.”

My wild eyes locked with his, which were filled with worry. “He let go of my hands. He threw me into the bricks.”

Isaac went to hold my hand, hesitating briefly to pry something out of my palm. I felt instant relief not having the sharp points pressed into my skin anymore. When his hand returned, he laced his fingers with mine. His touch brought immediate comfort.

“Actually,” he said, “we kind of pla—”

My head felt like it was still floating. I didn’t hear anything he said. My toes elevated my trembling legs as I tried to throw my bloodstained arms around his neck. Only my left arm moved – my right hung limp, its wing drooping on the floor. But with the aid of his arm slinking around my waist, it was enough to hoist my face close to his.

“Adele, you’re blee—”

My mouth brushed against his.

Just inches away from mine, his heart pounded, but he didn’t stop talking – he asked me questions my ears didn’t hear, forcing my kisses into birdlike pecks.

“You’re hurt, Adele,” he said sternly, imploring me to stop.

Ignoring his concerns became futile, so I refrained from kissing him and leaned my forehead into his. My recession brought his nose nuzzling against mine. He didn’t really want me to stop.

“What happened in there?” he asked me again.

It all rushed back.

“We won,” was all I whispered as my eyes fell shut.

My mother, Emilio, Nicco. Each flashback made me want to melt into him more.

His lips swept the thin skin of my eyelids, sending a wave of shivers through my shoulder blades. I didn’t have to open my eyes to know he was smiling. He kissed my cheekbone and jawline and then pushed my hair aside to continue down my neck.

“What the hell?” he said, suddenly alarmed. “Adele, we need to get you to the hospital.”

“No!” I yelled, beginning to panic. “It’s too overcrowded. They would just turn us away.” The truth was, I was scared to leave this moment. I quickly pressed my lips to his cheek, letting them linger. His body responded to my touch, and I felt him let the thought go.

I knew that every part of him wanted me. Wanted to protect me.

And I wanted to drown in that feeling.

The heightened sensory experience caused my aching body to squirm into his, and with that, his lips crashed into mine, finally giving in to me.

Giving in to the elixir.

My hand moved to his face; I had never wanted something so badly in my life. His arms pressed tighter around me until I could barely tell where I ended and he began. Dizziness overwhelmed me again.

I could feel his heart race faster. This time it was me who broke our embrace out of concern. He didn’t release me so easily, forcing me to arch backwards so I could see his face. His lips tried to follow me, but I held his jaw at bay. “You’re shaking,” I whispered.

His eyes searched for something to focus on before dropping to the ground.

“I…,” he fumbled.

He pushed his face back to mine and roughly pecked my lips.

And then he then took a deep breath and looked me in the eyes. “Before… I was so scared that I was going to drop you.” The shaking caused a slight vibration in his voice.

“But you didn’t.” His open vulnerability sent me into another manic tizzy. The scratchy stubble of his otherwise baby face scraped across my cheeks, and my lips parted his. My pulse raced.

Too fast.

The electric feeling expelled from my body as a breeze rushed around us, but this time it wasn’t from the wind-powered witch in my arms. It was simply Mother Nature.

Although, there’s nothing simple about Mother Nature.

Her knowledge. Her beauty. Her power.

Cold.

My arm wrapped around Isaac until it wasn’t possible to hold him any tighter.

And that was it.

Everything I had left inside me.

I was drained.

Blackness.

Orbs of color flashed beneath my eyelids.
Blindness only exacerbated the pain searing every inch of my body. My muscles cramped and convulsed. Someone was hovering above me. Aggressively cursing. Panicking.

Isaac.

I tried to raise my hand to comfort him, to no avail.

* * *

“Jesus, what’s wrong with her arm, Isaac?” asked a female voice. Maybe Dee’s? “Keep trying to wake her up.”

“Adele, wake up.” He frantically shook my dead weight.

I winced.

“Isaac, watch her shoulder!”
Definitely Désirée.

“Sorry. Adele, it’s time to wake up. Please,” he added, as if it might have been his lack of manners keeping me in the semiconscious state.

“What happened?” Désirée demanded with a hint of accusation. Her pitch was a little higher than usual.

If Désirée’s worried, should I be worried?

“I don’t know… we were just… and she… she just blacked out.” His voice warbled.

Through the slits of my lashes, I saw Désirée leaning over me, dragging her hands down my torso, lips moving quickly. My body burned as if I’d been struck by lightning.

I blinked slowly. Everything was fuzzy, but I could tell we were still on the roof of the
Presbytère
. The stars were gone. A dense fog now bridged the gap between the clouds and the small cupola. Chills swept over me.

Isaac yelled something to Désirée.

I tried to move my mouth, but nothing came out.

“Adele, can you hear me? Please, say something.”

I had a strong desire to answer him, but couldn’t seem to remember how to do that. How to make words. I blinked again, willing my eyes to stay open this time, but they drooped shut.

“She’s alive.”

“Of course she’s alive, birdbrain, she’s breathing!” Totally unsatisfied with Isaac’s efforts, her head rushed above mine. “Adele, open your eyes, NOW. Tell me who I am.”

My eyes popped open as if attached to marionette strings. “You’re Voodoo Queen Dee.”

The puppet master leaned back and breathed a sigh of relief. “Jesus, Adele.”

I tried to sit up on my own, but fell back. Isaac caught me. “What happened?” My throat felt like it had been clawed raw both inside and out.

“You passed out,” Isaac said from above me. His upside-down head hovered so close to mine, his eyes looked giant, like a prehistoric bug’s. “I was about to take you to the hospital, but Désirée rolled up with her juju. For the record, I still think we should go to the hospital.”

“There’s only one open hospital,” Désirée told him. “Unless you want to put a bullet in her, she’ll never be seen. We’re better off waking up Gran if we need help.”

“Thaaaaanks, Dee. No hospital. My dad’ll freak.” I smiled, not recognizing my own voice. She was rubbing something cool and minty into my skin. “Wait, why might we need Gran?”

“We don’t, Adele. I can handle it.”

“Are you sure you know what you are doing?” Isaac asked.

“All Voodoo is based on the art of healing.”

“I’m a little inclined towards science at the moment. No offense.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing Adele has me.”

The minty rub was soothing on my feverish skin. “I’mmmm gonna go back to sleep, guys.”

“No!” Désirée yelled. “Isaac, switch places with me.”

Suddenly she was gone from my sight. My eyes drooped closed.

* * *

“Hey! No sleeping, Tinkerbell!”

My eyes flew open again. Isaac was straddling me on all fours. His outline was blurry, but I could sense his frazzled nerves. I focused on him until I could finally make out his expression –
intense concern. Despite the pain, my stomach did a small somersault.

“I’m not Tinkerbell.”

“I know. I know
.
La Fée Verte.
”

“Ha, ha. Your accent is terrrrrrrible.”

Désirée snickered in the background. Isaac leaned over my head to whisper to her. His black leather vest hung open, and his bare chest hovered over my face.

“Where’s your shirt?” I slurred.

My words brought his face back, and he shot me a short, nervous smile. He didn’t answer, but his eyes fell to my neck, and I realized there was something tight and damp wrapped around it.

“Isaac, you have to hold her down!”

“I
am
.”

“No, don’t be a wuss. Sit on top of her. If she tries to fry me, I’m using you as a human shield.”

She pushed the hair from my shoulder. I cried out in pain as his knee moved into my open palm, pressing it against the stone floor.

“Do it, Désirée!” he yelled.

“Do what?” my loopy voice asked. I stared at his chest. “You’re hot…”

He let his hair fall in front of his face to hide his blushing cheeks.

Désirée snickered. “Don’t flatter yourself, Isaac, it’s just the elixir talking.”