Including a pair of green orbs the same color as the malachite pendant I wear around my neck for protection.
I instinctively reach up and fiddle with the stone as I continue.
“Who haunts it?” someone calls out.
Who doesn’t?
“One day, Delphine chased a twelve-year-old slave girl up to the roof of the building with a bullwhip. The young girl had been brushing Delphine’s hair and hit a snag. She ran from the whip, and it’s said she jumped to her death out of fear.
“Leah, the slave girl, is buried on the grounds of the mansion, along with countless others. When renovations were done years after Delphine and Louis fled to Paris, skeletons were found in the walls. So much death has happened here, that it wouldn’t surprise me if dozens of spirits haunt the house.
“It was once owned by Nicolas Cage, but it has a different owner now. They don’t offer tours.”
I gesture for the group to follow me, and we continue down Royal Street.
My route through the Quarter is deliberate. I take the same path every day. There are no surprises that way.
Surprises for me are never fun.
Yes, I see shadows, but they’re the same ones every time. I know where they lurk.
My hecklers turn out to be fun rather than ruining the tour for everyone else, and before long, we’ve stopped for our refreshments. I grab myself two bottles of water, one to drink now, and one to stow away in my bag for later.
“How do you know all this stuff?”
I turn and see those green eyes from before smiling down at me.
“I studied,” I say with a grin of my own. The man is handsome as all get out, with a dimple in a cheek covered by dark stubble. But it’s those eyes that draw me in. “I was a history major in college, and since I’m from this area, I’ve always been fascinated by local history.”
“You tell a hell of a story.”
“Thank you.” I take a sip of my water, watching him. “Where are you from?”
“Savannah, originally.”
“Another haunted city.”
“They claim to be the most haunted in America.”
I feel my smile turn colder. “While I’ve never been there, I’m sure Savannah is beautiful. But we have more dead in New Orleans than we have living. And while it’s not a competition, I’d bet this city would stand up to yours any day of the week. At least, for hauntings.”
“Maybe you need to visit.”
Not a chance in hell.
“Maybe one day.”
“I’m Cash.” He holds out his hand to shake mine. His palm is warm, his grip strong.
“Brielle. But you knew that.”
“You’re a beautiful woman, Brielle.”
“A complicated one.” I wink at him, pull my hand away, and round up the troops. “Let’s go, everyone. It’s time for more ghost walking.”
Once we’re back on the sidewalk, I point to the building behind me. “This was once a boys’ school. The original building burned down in the seventeen hundreds, and the boys perished in the building. It’s said they still live here.”
I glance back and see several small shadows looking out the windows.
“It’s a hotel now, and guests have reported hearing laughter and children playing. Do you remember back in the day when we had regular film cameras?”
The older members of my group smile and nod.
“Well, back then, people would take their vacation photos. When they got home, they’d take the film in to be developed. Several vacationers reported that as they were sifting through their memories, they saw photos of them. Asleep. From above.”
I glance over to see Cash raise one dark eyebrow. His dimple winks at me as he crosses his arms over his impressive chest and listens intently.
He would be less distracting if he were in the back of the group.
“So, while harmless, the boys are mischievous. They like to turn the channels on the TV.”
“We’re staying there.” A woman looks up at her husband. “I’ll never sleep tonight.”
I laugh and, just as I turn to lead the group to the next point of interest, I falter and stop in my tracks.
A new shadow.
A new shadow.
About my height, standing on the sidewalk. I can never make out faces, but I can tell this one is turned toward me. It’s a feminine spirit.
I blink quickly and try to recover so I don’t alert my group to anything amiss.
A new shadow.
It’s rare, even in the Quarter.
But I clear my throat and walk past the shadow to our next stop.
“That was amazing.” A college-age girl smiles broadly and bounces on the balls of her feet. The tour ended fifteen minutes ago, but I always stay after to answer questions. “I’m Tammy. I just loved all of the stories. It’s so interesting.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“I was wondering about that Laurie house?”
“The LaLaurie?”
“Yeah. That one. Where can I learn more about her? I mean, I know it sounds sick, but I’m fascinated by that stuff.”
“Torture?”
She blushes. “History stuff. I guess it does sound awful, doesn’t it?”
“There are lots of articles about Delphine online. Just Google the name, and you’ll have more information than you can read. But I’ll warn you, it’s graphic.”
“Thanks.” She smiles at me, then hurries to catch up with her friend.
“People are morbidly curious,” Cash says, joining me. He hung back, waiting for everyone else to ask their questions. Now, it’s just the two of us.
“Always.” I shudder. I know exactly what was done to those slaves.
Sometimes, the shadows talk.
“Did you have more questions, Cash?”
“One.” I start to walk down the sidewalk, and he joins me. I expect him to ask about places that I didn’t cover in my tour. Or maybe about the cemeteries.
Everyone always wants to know about those.
But I can’t do tours there. It’s too much.
Although I do have companies I can refer him to.
“What did you see?”
I stop and frown up at him. Cash is tall. Way taller than my five-foot-six height.
“Excuse me?”
“After you told the story about the kids dying in the fire, which is creepy as hell by the way, you turned, and then you stopped and went white as a sheet. You looked like you saw a ghost.”
Well, I did see a ghost, Cash.
But I can’t say that.
“It was great having you on the tour this evening.” I smile at him and pat him on the arm. “Have a fantastic vacation. Be careful.”
And with that, I hurry away, headed to the one place in the city that I’m absolutely safe.
“Help me put these chairs up, will you?”
Millie flutters around her little café, stacking chairs on tables so her night crew can come in and mop the floors.
Witches Brew will be three years old this spring, and so far, it’s been a success for my younger sister. And it should be. This café is perfect for the French Quarter, from its fun name to the quirky décor and delicious menu.
Coffee served in a cauldron? Sure thing.