playing magic tricks”—she punctuated her words with an exaggerated upward glance—“I was making sure you would be ready for the day of your calling.”
Things were moving too quickly for Madison to process. She pressed her hands together to still her need to break into a sprint and escape any freaking talk of a “calling.”
“What calling are you talking about?” she whispered.
“The one you’ve been waiting for since your first breath … since the second you were conceived.” Louise rubbed her hand through her hair and her tidy bob lost its symmetry. “The calling our line has been awaiting for centuries.”
“You can’t be serious. Out of everyone in my life, you , I mean …” Madison’s voice quaked. “You’re a nun. You can’t believe in voodoo, in lingering souls and all the craziness Mamie failed to indoctrinate you in.”
“There are things even your grandmother doesn’t know, things she should never know. She isn’t The One.”
Madison did a double take, rubbed her eyelids and blinked. “The One? Why are you turning all conspiracy theory on me?”
Her aunt’s facial expression sagged and she sighed. “This isn’t a joke. Unfortunately. I’m as much a prisoner to this curse as you are.” Her head tilted back to look skyward.
A curse? Madison jumped to her feet. She tried to reconnect with the world around her, but she couldn’t hear the thumping of the passing cars anymore, or smell the freshly cut grass surrounding the graves. Her senses were numb. Soon she was going to hear a Buffy-like statement: In every generation, a slayer is born … Or that kind of old crap.
Louise stood and joined her with shuffling footsteps. “There’s so much I have to explain.” She grabbed Madison’s elbow. “The whole New Orleans voodoo queens theatrics aren’t what we’re here for, what we’re meant for.”
Freeing her elbow from Louise’s grasp, Madison joked, “And there I was thinking that I already had a lot of baggage.”
“If you don’t believe me, at least talk with someone who can help explain certain things. A friend of mine, the one who shared the knowledge with me in the first place. She’s been following your progress from the very beginning.”
“Someone’s been stalking me and you haven’t even called the cops?”
“Hush, hush.” Louise took hold of Madison’s trembling hands.
Madison flinched under the contact of Louise’s skin but she didn’t recoil. She stared down at her hands entwined with those of her aunt. “Who’s this friend?” Her question was toneless.
“You’ve already met her. Her name is Aurélie.”
“The woman I met at your place last week?” The beautiful woman whose face had been familiar. A memory shot back into her mind. “I saw her before. In Baton Rouge. She visited you at boarding school.”
“She did. She kept a close eye on you all those years. Now she thinks it’s time for you two to officially meet.”
But Madison wasn’t sure she wanted to make Aurélie’s wish come true.
16
APPARENTLY RUNNING was supposed to clear her mind, help Madison take a step back from her troubles. Blahdiblahdiblah. She focused on matching her breathing to the rhythm of her feet. The task sounded simple in theory. But it wasn’t. She was so frustrated with her brainwaves getting wired back to her early afternoon, to the whole “calling” chat.
No, no, she had to wipe her mind clean of everything supernatural. And that included “Greensleeves,” Henry the Eighth, his six wives and God only knows how many mistresses he left heartbroken across sixteenth-century Europe.
A pain in the pit of her stomach radiated across her chest. The stabbing sensation peaked each time her foot landed on the ground. What the heck? Her legs weakened and she almost collapsed. She sagged forward and rested her hands flat on her thighs to give herself some support. The awkward posture wasn’t ideal for refilling her lungs, but she couldn’t stand up
Things were moving too quickly for Madison to process. She pressed her hands together to still her need to break into a sprint and escape any freaking talk of a “calling.”
“What calling are you talking about?” she whispered.
“The one you’ve been waiting for since your first breath … since the second you were conceived.” Louise rubbed her hand through her hair and her tidy bob lost its symmetry. “The calling our line has been awaiting for centuries.”
“You can’t be serious. Out of everyone in my life, you , I mean …” Madison’s voice quaked. “You’re a nun. You can’t believe in voodoo, in lingering souls and all the craziness Mamie failed to indoctrinate you in.”
“There are things even your grandmother doesn’t know, things she should never know. She isn’t The One.”
Madison did a double take, rubbed her eyelids and blinked. “The One? Why are you turning all conspiracy theory on me?”
Her aunt’s facial expression sagged and she sighed. “This isn’t a joke. Unfortunately. I’m as much a prisoner to this curse as you are.” Her head tilted back to look skyward.
A curse? Madison jumped to her feet. She tried to reconnect with the world around her, but she couldn’t hear the thumping of the passing cars anymore, or smell the freshly cut grass surrounding the graves. Her senses were numb. Soon she was going to hear a Buffy-like statement: In every generation, a slayer is born … Or that kind of old crap.
Louise stood and joined her with shuffling footsteps. “There’s so much I have to explain.” She grabbed Madison’s elbow. “The whole New Orleans voodoo queens theatrics aren’t what we’re here for, what we’re meant for.”
Freeing her elbow from Louise’s grasp, Madison joked, “And there I was thinking that I already had a lot of baggage.”
“If you don’t believe me, at least talk with someone who can help explain certain things. A friend of mine, the one who shared the knowledge with me in the first place. She’s been following your progress from the very beginning.”
“Someone’s been stalking me and you haven’t even called the cops?”
“Hush, hush.” Louise took hold of Madison’s trembling hands.
Madison flinched under the contact of Louise’s skin but she didn’t recoil. She stared down at her hands entwined with those of her aunt. “Who’s this friend?” Her question was toneless.
“You’ve already met her. Her name is Aurélie.”
“The woman I met at your place last week?” The beautiful woman whose face had been familiar. A memory shot back into her mind. “I saw her before. In Baton Rouge. She visited you at boarding school.”
“She did. She kept a close eye on you all those years. Now she thinks it’s time for you two to officially meet.”
But Madison wasn’t sure she wanted to make Aurélie’s wish come true.
16
APPARENTLY RUNNING was supposed to clear her mind, help Madison take a step back from her troubles. Blahdiblahdiblah. She focused on matching her breathing to the rhythm of her feet. The task sounded simple in theory. But it wasn’t. She was so frustrated with her brainwaves getting wired back to her early afternoon, to the whole “calling” chat.
No, no, she had to wipe her mind clean of everything supernatural. And that included “Greensleeves,” Henry the Eighth, his six wives and God only knows how many mistresses he left heartbroken across sixteenth-century Europe.
A pain in the pit of her stomach radiated across her chest. The stabbing sensation peaked each time her foot landed on the ground. What the heck? Her legs weakened and she almost collapsed. She sagged forward and rested her hands flat on her thighs to give herself some support. The awkward posture wasn’t ideal for refilling her lungs, but she couldn’t stand up
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