The Dolls (35 page)

“Not if I learn how to use my powers to protect myself,” I had replied. “Not if I use them to protect Carrefour.”

“It’s not up to you,” Caleb had said. “It doesn’t have to be.”

“I don’t have a choice,” I had replied.

Now, as we begin to shuffle away from Drew’s grave and into the pale morning light of the cemetery, I try to catch Caleb’s eye across the gravesite, but he doesn’t look at me. I know he’s still carrying the burden of being the one who killed Drew. I know no one can take that pain away from him.

Liv, who hasn’t taken any of my calls in the last week, brushes up against me on the way out of the cemetery.

“Liv,” I say. “I’m so, so sorry about what happened to Drew.”

I’m unprepared for the anger I see in her eyes as she looks up at me. “I know it’s crazy,” she says, her voice tight and controlled. “But I have to ask. Did you have anything to do with Drew’s death?”

“What?”

Liv frowns. “I know you were in New Orleans too. Drew told me that night, before he left the ball, that he was coming to find you. He said he had to warn you about something. Did you see him?”

“No,” I lie. “I didn’t.”

“Well, then, did something happen between the two of you that I should know about?” she demands. “Because he was talking about you after you said you’d had that fight with Caleb. Like he was obsessed.”

“That’s crazy,” I say without meeting her eye. “He was totally into you.”

Liv looks at me suspiciously and presses her lips tightly together. I know she’s trying not to cry. “I don’t believe you,” she says.

My heart breaks a little as she walks away. I’ll do what I can to make it up to her in the future, but right now I know she needs some time alone.

Peregrine and Chloe hurry over and flank me as we head back toward our mansions on the cemetery edge.

“How are you feeling?” Chloe asks, putting a hand on my arm.

“Physically, better,” I say. I lower my voice and add, “Emotionally? I’m feeling terrible.”

“You can’t blame yourself,” Peregrine says.

“I know. But that doesn’t make it any easier.”

I’m still mad at them for not telling me about my father. They swore up and down that their mothers had only told them the basics: that my father was involved with some sort of magical sect in Georgia, and that they weren’t sure whether to trust him. But they’ve told me several times that it never occurred to them that his blood might have made Main de Lumière more interested in me.

“We don’t actually know that you’re any more powerful than we are,” Peregrine had said snippily.

But as they walk across the cemetery now, Chloe nudges me gently and says, “When this blows over, we’ll get everyone together and talk to your aunt and our mothers. You deserve to know everything they know about your dad. We’ll figure out what to do.”

They walk away to join Margaux and Arelia, who have already reached the sunshine near Peregrine’s back fence.

A few minutes later, I feel someone fall into step beside me, and I know without looking up that it’s Caleb. We walk a few steps in silence, and then he gently takes my hand.

“Are you okay?” I ask him.

“Getting there. So, can I take my job back?” he asks. “Officially? I want to be your protector again, Eveny. I almost missed the chance to save you in New Orleans because you broke the link between us. If I hadn’t been faking being possessed so I could try to keep an eye on you. . . .” He trails off and adds, “I don’t want to think what could have happened. As it was, I was almost too late.”

“I don’t want to put you in a position where you’re under any obligation to me. Or where your life is tied to mine.”

He stops walking, and when I stop too and look at him, I read frustration across his perfect face. “It has nothing to do with obligation anymore,” he says. “Have you thought of the fact that maybe I
want
my life tied to yours?”

We look at each other for a long time, then we begin walking again.

“What if I was just a normal girl?” I ask. “Instead of the most powerful zandara queen in Louisiana?”

“I’d still want to protect you,” he says right away. He pauses. “What if I was just a normal guy?”

“I’d still want you around all the time,” I say.

We continue to walk in silence, our fingers threaded together, our breath heavy, until we reach my back wall. Caleb helps me over and follows a second later, landing with a soft thud beside me.

He moves closer and pulls me toward him. “If you were just a normal girl, and I was just a normal guy, I’d probably do this”—he kisses me softly—“all the time.”

I kiss him back, hungrily, and after a pause, he responds with a hunger of his own. The garden, the woods, Carrefour itself all disappear as I fade into him. He holds me, caresses me, drinks me in like I’m the only thing anchoring him to earth.

When the kiss ends and we finally pull away, there are tears in his eyes. “But I let my guard down once. I let my feelings, my pride get in the way. And you almost died.”

“I
didn’t
die, though,” I whisper. “You saved me.”

He shakes his head. “Next time, we might not be so lucky.” He takes a deep breath. “Eveny, I love you. But this is why protectors are forbidden from having a relationship with their queens; I can’t think straight and protect you when I feel like this.”

“But—” I begin.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m so sorry. I can’t do this. But I’ll always be nearby, watching over you if you need me.”

“Caleb,” I say desperately. “I
do
need you. I need you now. I need you to be with me. I need you to forget all the things we’re supposed to do and just follow your heart.”

He smiles sadly. “I’m sorry, Eveny. But you know as well as I do that’s not how this town works.”

And then he’s gone, back over the cemetery wall, before I can say anything else. I stare in the direction he disappeared for a very long time, tears streaming down my face, before I whisper, “I love you too.”

I turn and walk slowly toward the back door of my house. The world feels like it’s been upended again. I want to go after him, to beg him to stay, to plead with him to reconsider. But I saw the resolution in his eyes. I’ll have to find another way.

I open the door and head inside. The first thing I realize when I shut the door behind me is that something feels different. There’s a heaviness in the air that puts me instantly on edge.

Before I can say anything, Boniface steps out from the living room, his face creased with concern. “Eveny, I didn’t know—” he begins, but a voice behind him cuts him off.

“I’ll take it from here, Boniface,” says the tall, handsome man who rounds the corner. His hair is sandy; his eyes are a brilliant green. I recognize him instantly.

“Dad?” I ask in disbelief.

“Eveny,” he says. He crosses the space between us swiftly and pulls me into a tight hug. I’m so shocked, I can barely hug back.

“But . . .” My brain is suddenly a jumble of questions. “You left us,” I conclude, my voice breaking.

“I did what I had to do to keep you safe, Eveny,” he says. “Staying would have put you in terrible danger.”

“But you’re here now. . . .” I can hardly believe what I’m seeing.

“You need my help.” He takes a step forward, and for an instant, I’m not thinking about the present; I’m thinking about all the moments like this we missed, all the times he should have been there to hold my hand, all the instances I felt so abandoned by both of my parents when one of them was out there all along.

“Why now?” I manage. “After all this time?”

“I’m afraid that what happened with Main de Lumière is only the beginning, Eveny,” he says gravely. “You’re going to be in danger until we figure out how to stop them for good. So the way I see it, we have two choices: You and I can run tonight, go somewhere they’ll never be able to find us. Or we can stay and do our best to stand our ground and protect zandara and everything your mother stood for.”

My heart hammers, and my Stone of Carrefour grows hot against my chest. Magic is in my blood—it’s who I am, who I’m destined to be. I don’t yet know what I’m supposed to do to make things better, but my mom believed I’d be the greatest queen the world has ever known, and I won’t let her down. I take a deep breath and steel myself. “We’ll stay,” I say. “We’ll fight.”

“You’re sure?” His eyes bore into mine, and I’m struck by the depth of sadness I see there. “You could die trying. You realize that, don’t you? I’ll do everything I can to protect you, but there’s always a chance. . . .”

“Mom died trying to make things right,” I say. “I have to carry that on in her honor. And I want to find out who killed her and make sure they’re brought to justice. Everything about this place, it’s who I am. I can’t run from that anymore, not if there’s a possibility I can fix things.”

He stares at me for a minute. “Your mother would be so proud of the young woman you’ve grown up to be.” He smiles sadly. “I’m here now, Eveny. I’m here to help you win back Carrefour and avenge your mom’s death. Whatever it takes.”

“In that case,” I say, my heart hammering, “we’d better get some rest.” I don’t quite know what to make of my father’s return after all these years, but my gut tells me the emotion in his eyes is real. So I push aside thoughts of Caleb, the Dolls, and everything else I’m responsible for, and for just a second I let myself believe in a future that isn’t fraught with complications and lies. Maybe this is the first step. Maybe everything’s going to be okay.

“Dad,” I say softly, “I’m glad you’re home.”

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T
his book was the result of some pretty incredible teamwork, so I’d love to say a huge “thank you” to Holly Root (the world’s best literary agent), Nick Harris (who provided the seed from which this book grew and who has been a huge advocate for the story), and Sara Sargent (whose patience, vision, keen editorial eye, and witty emails kept me sane—and made this book a thousand times better). Novelist Wendy Toliver—my longtime friend and the closest thing I have to a writing partner—also supported me every step of the way and speed-read drafts for me in record time. She’s a rock star.

Thanks to Jerry Gandolfo of the New Orleans Historic Voodoo Museum for welcoming me into his world and helping me to understand the intricacies of a fascinating spiritual system in which herbs, dolls, spirits, and magic intersect. And of course thanks to the people of New Orleans: your city’s beautiful blend of history, culture, food, drink, architecture, excess, faith, and
bon temps
inspires me to no end.

Thanks to the other great folks of Waxman Leavell Literary Agency, The Story Foundation, and Balzer + Bray, especially Sam Howard, Taylor Haggerty, Alessandra Balzer, Donna Bray, Caroline Sun, Emilie Polster, Stefanie Hoffman, Alison Klapthor, and Veronica Ambrose. A special thank-you to literary agent Farley Chase (a foreign rights superhero) and the lovely Kate McLennan in London.

And thanks to all my family and friends whose patience I certainly tried while writing this novel! Special thanks to my very own Prince Charming, who listened to me babble endlessly about magic, brought me flowers when I was under tight deadlines, and took me out for Louisiana-style crawfish to celebrate the completion of drafts. I love you, Jas!

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Like her main character, Eveny Cheval,
KIKI SULLIVAN
used to live in New York and now calls the American South home. Find Kiki online at www.kikisullivan.com.

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Balzer + Bray is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.

T
HE DOLLS
. Copyright © 2014 by Kiki Sullivan. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

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