Shattered Souls (21 page)

Celeste’s head turned, side to side, as though looking around. “See a cave. People diggin’.”

“The bunker. Before that.”

Body rocking, Celeste gave a slight shake of her head. “He sleep beneath the mounds. On a bench at the river. Feeds birds wit’ bits of his sandwich.”

Cait let out a breath. So Donnelly hadn’t been a mean loser.

“He takes a trolley. A bus. Stops for food. Walks.”

“Do you see where?” Her heart beat faster. They might find a clue.

“Houses. Lots of houses. Yards.”

“A subdivision?”

Celeste shook her head, brow wrinkling. “A dog barking. Runs to sidewalk and chases him. A man calls it back. House filled wit’ mirrors that move. He pushes through dem. Has a hammer. Fixin’ a shelf. Hear a hum. Like an engine. Has a lantern on a rope.”

Cait glanced at Sam, whose face was comically screwed up, trying to follow the bits of Celeste’s vision. “Can you come out of the house?”

“Grass is tall. Red brick. Pretty birdhouses, all in a row.” She fell silent, then opened her eyes and drew a deep breath. “Sorry. I couldn’t see anyt’ing else. I know you hoped for more.”

Cait reached across the table and laid a hand on her arm. “We’ll keep looking. The hints you gave us could help.” She took a deep breath. “What I said before…you may be in danger.”

“I know. I feel da demon watchin’.” She gave a little shudder. “But I don’ have what he needs. You’re da one he wants.”

“Just the same, if he can’t get to me…” She hated to think about her aunt in danger.

Celeste reached across the table and patted Cait’s hand. “I might close shop for a time. Till dis be done.”

With a sigh, Cait pushed back her chair and stood. “I’d feel better if you’re out of the city altogether.”

“Need a trip sout’ anyway.” Celeste opened her arms, and Cait leaned into her. “You’ll need Morin. Don’ you go t’inkin’ you can do dis on your own.”

As much as she wished she didn’t need him, Cait knew her aunt was right.

“I’ll pray to every deity, ask da Baron to turn you back should he see you walk his way.”

Cait wrinkled her nose. Celeste’s stories of the skeletal
vodou
spirit who sported a top hat and guarded the crossroads between the lands of the living and the dead had scared her silly as a child. “That’s…comforting.”

“Never hurts to ask for help. He might be proud you asked, stubborn gal.”

Cait and Sam left the shop. He walked her to her car but leaned against the hood as he studied her face. A dark, brooding look to his eyes. “I don’t like the thought of you doing battle with this thing. Morin said the villagers captured it. Why not let me and Jason set the trap?”

“No doubt I’ll need you along for the ride, but I won’t risk either one of you becoming his next skin suit.”

“What’s to stop that from happening to you?” He edged closer.

A good question, but once again, she went with her instincts. “It won’t happen.”

“Because Morin’s going to cast some spell?”

At his grudging tone, she smiled. “He’s going to give me more than a spell.”

“I’m not liking the sound of this.”

“It’s what has to happen. I’ll need some of his power.”

His frown deepened. “Why can’t Morin face him? He’s stronger than you, right?”

Cait held still. The question had occurred to her too. Morin wasn’t frightened for himself. He would go after Worthen’s demon if he could.

Which meant something…

Cait shook her head. “I’m not sure. But I don’t think he can.”

“Is he a coward?”

Avoiding his stony gaze, Cait glanced down at her boots. “I think he’s offered me the only help he can.”

“You’d trust him after he seduced you?”

Her head jerked up. “I seduced him.”

“He was the adult.”

“Sam, do you think I was really ever a child?” Cait met his gaze straight on, heart kicking up a notch. “Morin had no choice in the matter. I put a spell on him. I stripped naked and threw myself at him. Would you have resisted?”

“How the fuck old is he anyway? Your mother knew him. He was an adult when you were a child. He doesn’t look old enough now to be what he should be…” His hand jammed through his hair. “What the hell’s with that?”

And it suddenly made sense to her. Cait faced away from Sam. “Don’t we have work to do?”

Sam’s hands touched her arms, then fell away. “Sure. But we’re not done.”

“We’ve been done a long time,” she said, looking at him over her shoulder. “Maybe we both need a little reminding.”

Something in Sam’s crystal eyes flickered and then died away. He glanced toward the car, lifted his keys, and clicked the remote. “Riding with me?”

The solution would make better sense, but she needed a little alone time to get her head around the problem that was Morin. “Where to first? I’ll meet you there.”

“I don’t have a goddamn clue,” he growled. “Your psychic was a big help.”

“You don’t know it was a waste of time. Not yet.”

With both hands balled on his hips, he cut her a sharp look. “Why don’t we run through what we have? Henry’s dead. Three girls are missing. Our only suspect is dead. Your friend or aunt, or whatever the hell she is, told us to look for a house with bird boxes and moving mirrors. We’ve got squat, Cait.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Don’t know why I’m worried about you doing whatever it is you’re gonna do with your old boyfriend, because right this minute, it doesn’t look like we’ll ever find this thing we’re after.”

“Does look a little bleak,” she murmured, “but remember, your guys are looking into his bank records and making a list of who came into contact with him. Jason’s following the clues he had in his wallet.”

Sam raked a hand over his hair. His body was stiff, his face dark and rigid with frustration.

Just the look that always got to her. Made her feel the need to tip his self-directed anger toward her. She craved the result.

And wasn’t sex filled with its own kind of magic?

Cait stepped in front of Sam, glanced up at his granite-hard features, and lifted her chin to give him a brazen stare.

“Cait, what are you doing?”

Putting on a wide smile, she came so close her chest met his. She tucked her fingertips into the waistband of his trousers and tugged his hips. “Seeing as we don’t have anything else to do…”

“You just said we’re done,” he said, his tone deep and rumbling.

“In the long term, you know we are. But we both still have needs. Might be nice to work off some of that steam you have building up before you blow.”

One corner of his mouth tipping up, he grunted. “We could hit the gym.”

Cait pouted her lips. “Wouldn’t be near as much fun. Time for a quickie?”

“That what you need?” he asked, his voice dropping again to his sexiest grumble.

“I
need
you, Sam.” His cock surged against her belly. She had him now. Standing on tiptoe, she leaned into him, giving him her weight, letting her breasts press against his chest as she gave him a kiss.

His mouth remained firm beneath hers…for all of a second. Then he groaned, angled his head so their noses aligned, and returned the pressure, rubbing his lips over hers, suctioning to seal their mouths.

His hands caught her hair, fingertips digging into her scalp, and she eased closer, loosing a breathy moan when an arm closed around the small of her back, holding her lower body flush with his.

“I love the way you kiss,” she said, keeping her eyes closed.

His mouth smiled against hers. Teeth nibbled her bottom lip, and then he drew away. Sunshine warmed her face as she slowly opened her eyes. His crystal-clear gaze roamed her face.

“Do I have a smudge?”

“No. Wondering why I’m always surprised by how pretty you are.”

“Because I don’t do pretty things?”

His lips gave a quick, stiff smile. “Just wondering why you’re not with anyone. You’re beautiful, Cait. No need for you to be alone.”

She blushed at the compliment; he wasn’t the effusive sort, so she knew he meant it. “I’m kind of picky who I let into my bed.”

His hands settled in the curve of her lower back. His eyes narrowed. “You have certain requirements?”

“I need to be in love, Sam,” she whispered, her voice aching, raw. “Doesn’t work for me any other way.”

His eyes shuttered closed.

When they opened again, she read regret in the pinched brackets beside his mouth.

“I wish I could be what you need.
All
you need.”

“If I gave up the booze…?” She didn’t know if she could, but hell, she was willing to try.

“Would you give up the secrets, too?”

When she hesitated, one brow arched.

“I don’t mind a little drama. Even a fight. But I won’t stand for secrets, Cait. Now that I know more about the world you walk in, there’s no need. But until you can level with me, trust me…” He shook his head and slowly unwound his arms from around her. “Trust doesn’t work when it only goes one way. I’ve gone with everything you’ve thrown at me so far even though most of it’s been hard to swallow. I’ve accepted that Morin’s part of your past and that you still need him. Baby, it’s your turn.”

She stepped back, knees a little weak without his strong arm propping her up. Even though the afternoon was muggy hot, she felt cold. “Guess we should figure out what’s next,” she said, wanting to change the subject.

Sam reached for her hand and pulled her closer.

“Thought we were over that.”

His expression sharpened. Her first clue this gesture was about something else.

Sam snuggled her closer to his body and bent to her ear. “That squad car. Over my left shoulder. Don’t look right at it. Been parked there awhile.”

“Think he’s our guy?” she whispered back, glancing at the sedan from the corner of her eye.

“Don’t know. Celeste needs to get out now. We’ll follow her home and wait while she packs.”

Warmth grew in her chest at his caring intent toward her aunt. She leaned up, gave his mouth a kiss, and then beamed a smile. “I forgot something inside the shop,” she said more loudly. “Be right back.”

She turned on her heel and walked as slowly as her pounding heart would allow. Inside, she called out, “Tante, get your things.”

Celeste rose from behind the counter. “Was gonna pretend I wasn’t here. Glad you didn’t leave. Felt somet’ing cold stirrin’ in the room.”

Every nerve tingled. A sinister chill hung in the air that had nothing to do with the AC. “Grab your purse and keys. The rest will just have to wait. I’ll ride home with you. Sam’ll follow.”

The bell over the door tinkled but the door didn’t open. A breeze swirled inside the shop, distinctly cold, waving the feathers on the heads of the voodoo dolls, brushing through the stringed beads at the reading room doorway.

Cait held still while it licked over her, stirring her hair. She gave a startled pant and saw the mist of her exhaled breath in the suddenly frigid air. “Tante?”

“I feel it too,” Celeste whispered, her dark eyes large and fearful.

The ceiling light flickered. The bulb exploded, plunging the store into dark shadow.

“Do you hear it, Caitlyn?”

“No,” she whispered, senses tuned to the sudden whisper of breeze. But it had moved away.

“Don’ listen wit’ your ears,” her aunt hissed.

Cait shook her head, clammy sweat beading on her forehead. She didn’t want to hear. That was the problem. She knew it. She stood still, forcing her body to relax, seeking her inner calm. Her eyelids fluttered down. A shrill cry, an echo from her childhood sounded behind her. “It’s behind me now,” she whispered.

“Can you see it? Tell me what you see.”

Cait peeked between her eyelids, saw a movement beside her—a streak of misty cloud with wispy arms and thin fingers that reached outward to ruffle the dolls again, and then the strands of beads behind Celeste. Her heart thudded in her chest. “I see,” she said, her heart pounding like a bass drum. “Behind you. Move slowly. Around the counter.”

Celeste abandoned her large purse and slid sideways from behind the counter.

The misty figure, a gray transparent torso, moved side to side like a snake, arms outstretched, toppling a large crystal to the floor.

Celeste jumped, her eyes rounding, but she continued around the counter, approaching Cait.

Another winding circle around the store, and the creature opened its hollow mouth. A shrill screech howled, and Cait gave up trying to remain calm. She clapped both hands over her ears and hunched her shoulders.

Celeste darted toward her, but the wraith reached out, snaking around Celeste’s body and yanking her from the floor. Arms and legs flailing, Celeste crashed against the ceiling, screaming.

Cait heard Sam’s shouts in the distance, the dull thud of fists against the door. She stood frozen as the wraith circled the room, Celeste in its grasp, stirring a wind that picked up bits of paper, loose beads, and small nuggets of crystals to whirl around her head. In the still center of the whirlwind, the creature flung Celeste against the ceiling again and again until she lay limp inside its grasp, her face turning gray and then blue.

“No,” Cait whimpered. “No!”

She raced to the counter, cleared it in a leap, and went straight to the jar filled with a reddish powder. With a jerk, she unstoppered the bottle, poured part of the powder into her hand, and flung it into the air, where it caught the wind and sparkled as it joined the debris whirling above her. The scent of dragon’s blood and sandalwood perfumed the air.

The creature turned its head toward Cait, its face and neck extending. The dark center of its mouth gaped wide.

Cait stood her ground, lifting her chin and arms, pointing toward it.

“
Goddess
,” she said, her voice quivering,

“I stand before you, having denied you,

Having turned my back on the gifts you gave me.

Forgive me. Help me now.”

Her voice cracked, but she took a deep breath, ignoring the debris blowing at her now, small fragments of crystals cutting her skin. Anger flared deep inside her, and she trembled, but this time not out of fear. Squaring her stance, she raised her gaze to the creature and shouted.