“Because I think you could bring a lot of chaos to my life, Lucien. And I’ve done my best to avoid chaos since I left that miserable house half a lifetime ago.”
He cups my cheek, and the heat that stirs is undeniable.
“I’m not responsible for that chaos,” he says softly as his thumb makes small circles on the apple of my cheek. “And I can bring more than that if you let me.”
I sigh and lean into him. The magnetism between us is off the charts. It’s a longing that I can’t even begin to describe. I want to be near him, to care about him and have him with me. It’s as if I…miss him.
Though as far as I can remember, I’ve never been touched by him.
But this is as familiar as it gets for me. It’s as if I’m hugging my sister, as if I’ve done it hundreds of times.
Except I’ve never felt this kind of pull before, this kind of sexual energy.
Allowing myself to touch him, my hand glides up his side and over his shoulder. He turns me to face him fully and moves me so I’m flush against him, chest to knees.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for this.” The words are almost a growl before he lowers his lips to mine. The kiss is all heat, even from the first touch. His hands plunge into my hair, and I hold on tightly, my hands anchored to his shoulders as he tastes and explores.
When he pulls back, his ice-blue eyes have darkened to a deep indigo, and he breathes hard as he stares down at me.
“Wow,” I whisper and then frown. “Do you smell something burning?”
I blink rapidly, trying to clear the fog of lust from my brain, and see smoke coming out of my oven.
“Shit!”
Lucien and I work together, quickly taking the burnt lasagna from the oven and then out of the house altogether as we turn on fans and open windows.
I swirl the air, trying to get the stench out of the room.
When we’ve cleaned up the mess, we stare at each other for a heartbeat before dissolving into laughter.
“Well, that was a first,” I say, wiping a tear from my eye. “I guess we’re not having lasagna, after all.”
“Sure we are,” he says. “We’ll go out for it.”
“Good idea.”
“This is going to be so much fun,” Mallory Boudreaux, a friend of mine, says the following day. She and I are standing out on the sidewalk in front of Witches Brew with Dahlia, making plans for our Halloween street festival that’s coming up in just a couple of weeks.
With Black Dahlia just across the street from my business, and Bayou Botanicals, Mallory’s shop, just a block down, we always enjoy putting our heads together to organize a fantastic French Quarter Halloween party. We’re always the talk of the town.
“We’ll have our standard tents set up for vendors,” I say, picturing it all in my head. “And, of course, Brew will be open for cauldrons of hot chocolate.”
“You should serve blood,” Dahlia adds, earning weird looks from both Mallory and myself. “In the cauldrons.”
“Uh…ew,” Mallory says.
“Yeah, that’s disgusting.”
“And when the trick or treaters come through,” Dahlia continues, “we should give every other kid an eyeball.”
“What the heck is wrong with you?” Mallory asks, but Dahlia just laughs and shakes her head.
“You guys, it’s Halloween. They make candy eyeballs, and I’m quite certain you could add something to the punch or hot chocolate to make it look like blood. Come on, get in the holiday spirit here.”
“I don’t want to force any kid to seek out therapy,” I say, shaking my head. “So I’ll pass on that. Now, we’ll need at least thirty Jack-o-lanterns to line the sidewalk. I already spoke to the city, and we’ve been given permission to block the street to vehicle traffic. Dahlia, are you going to make black rose bouquets for the vendor tables again this year?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she confirms. “I already have an extra ten dozen on order. I also bought little plastic skulls to add to the bouquets.”
“Oh, I love that,” Mallory says. “You know, every city should have a coven of witches plan their Halloween parties.”
“No kidding,” I say with a laugh. “I can’t believe Halloween is only a few weeks away.”
“And thank goodness we didn’t plan for this festival on Halloween this year,” Mallory agrees. “Because we have the full blue hunter’s moon on All Hallows’ Eve. The energy for our Samhain ritual is going to be off the charts.”
“I’m so glad you decided to start practicing with us more,” I say, patting her shoulder. Mallory spent many years trying to suppress her abilities until she finally realized that she had to use them to finally have peace in her life. “It’s so fun having you around.”
“Thanks.” She grins. “Okay, ladies, I’d better get back to the shop. Let me know if you need anything.”
She waves and hurries down the street, and Dahlia follows me into Witches Brew.
“I know you’re about to close,” she says, “but I would love one last shot of caffeine for the day. And then I’ll be out of your hair, I promise.”
“Of course.” I set to work making her drink just the way she likes it, and pass it over to her.
As she reaches for the cup, her sleeve falls back, revealing a nasty cut healing on her arm.
“Oh, my goddess. What happened?”
She frowns in confusion, then looks at her arm.
“Oh, that. Let’s just say the thorns on roses are nasty. I’m always cutting myself on something.
After she pays, Dahlia waves and heads for the door.
“Have a good evening, friend!”
“You, too,” I call after her. I wipe up the mess I just made and then check the time—three o’clock on the nose.
Time to close up for the day.
I turn the lock and then hurry back to the restroom before I get to work cleaning up for the evening.
When I’ve finished and walk to the sink to wash my hands, I take a deep breath and enjoy the smell of Frankincense and orange that I infuse into the hand soap. I rinse and reach for a paper towel just as I glance up and see a streak of blood across the top of the mirror.
It’s a big smudge, not like the little smears I’ve found on my front door recently. This one is the size of a man’s hand, and it spans the entire width of the mirror.
My heart starts to pound with awareness, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end as I lower my gaze to my reflection in the mirror.
Standing behind me, just to my right, is Horace. He’s grinning like an evil Jack-o-lantern.
I spin around, but there’s no one there, and then I run from the bathroom. I reach for my phone and immediately call Brielle.
“I need you here at the Brew, now. Right now. We have to cleanse this place.”
“On my way. Daphne’s with me. Be there in five. Are you okay?”
“No, I need you.”
I hang up and pace the space behind the counter. How is this even possible?
But then I think back to what Lucien said yesterday. Was he in my house, kissing me, just yesterday? It suddenly feels like weeks ago.