Sweet Evangeline (Moon Magic Book 2) (2 page)

“I’ve practically memorized the chapters. But who knows?”

“Clark is having a party at his place tonight, he told me to tell you to come.” Evangeline caught the eye of her pretty friend.

“I don’t think so.”

“Why don’t you ever turn loose? Clark really likes you. And what Clark Lawrence wants, Clark Laurence gets. You ought to be flattered, he truly is one of the ’big men’ on campus, if you know what I mean.” Rachel grinned at her friend.

“I’m not attracted to Clark. He’s nice, but he’s not my type.” Evangeline thought of the young soccer player whose attributes Rachel was extolling. “He’s a pretty-boy, I like the hero type.”

“You are one of the cutest girls on campus; you could have any guy you want. Why do you keep to yourself so much?” Rachel knew that Evangeline was different, she just didn’t realize how different.

“Actually, I have a boyfriend.” She didn’t have to tell Rachel she had never actually met him, or knew where he lived, or what his name was. Irrelevant.

“You do?” As soon as she said it, Evangeline knew it had been a mistake. Rachel loved to gossip and it wouldn’t be long before she let this little cat out of the bag.

“What’s his name?”

Crap! She would have to ask. Therefore, Evangeline gave her the only name she had. “Angel.”

“Angel?” Rachel laughed. “All right, Buffy. No wonder we never see you after the sun goes down. That‘s the only time your guy can come out and play.”

“Don’t be silly. My Angel has blond hair and regular teeth.”

“Well, that’s a relief. I mean, people talk. You are a little different, and you’re from New Orleans, and all. Tilda actually asked me if I thought you might be a witch. She said she saw you open a door one day without touching it.” Rachel was watching Evangeline so closely that she didn’t have a chance to monitor the expression on her face.

She remembered the day, rushing to class, arms overloaded, not a gentleman in sight. Evangeline had glanced around, then surmising she was alone, she had mentally twisted the doorknob and opened the door, thus saving herself from having to dump everything on the floor. Tilda must have been behind her.

“If she was close enough to see me do that, why didn’t she just help me with the door?” She had intended to come out of the broom closet with her friends eventually. However, she had planned to do it with a little more finesse and preplanning.

Rachel’s mouth opened wide, and then she hooted! “I knew it! Those little flannel bags you carry, every other garment you own is black, and I told Larry that wasn’t a Star of David on that chain around your neck! Girlfriend, you have got to tell me everything!”

Well, that wasn’t so hard. “Settle down, Rachel. I‘ll tell you what you want to know, just not right now. I have to get to class.”

“When can we come over?” By ’we’, Evangeline knew she meant Tilda, Larry, Arnold and Jolene—all the ones she had bonded with in last year’s sculpting class. That was the class when she had made the discovery that sculpting was her thing—besides spell craft, that is. Evangeline could create beauty with her hands. The pieces that she sculpted seemed to have a life of their own. Dr. Frederick was so impressed he kept pushing her to do bigger and more detailed pieces. But as much as she enjoyed the release the sculpting gave her, what she longed for was Angel. As quickly as he came to mind, she pushed him out. Later, sweetheart.

“I’m really busy, and you know I’m just not good at most social situations. It’s not that I don’t like all of you; it’s just that I’m not a party person. I’ll gladly meet all of you for coffee; somewhere, just tell me where and when.”

“I don’t agree with you, I think you’re great. With you, I’ll take what I can get. Wait until I tell them the news, they’ll be thrilled to know our speculation was on the money. How’s your piece for your final grade coming along?” Evangeline pictured the piece of clay that was beginning to take on Angel’s shape.

“Slow, but I enjoy working on it.”

“I can’t wait to see what your perfect man looks like.”

“Frankly, I can’t either.’ Evangeline confessed. Rachel ran off and Evangeline couldn’t help but smile. She had never tried to hide who she was, she just didn’t go around making street lights turn on or small rain clouds appear over guys who ogled her, although she could do both. It would probably be a relief to get to talk to someone about it all.

Walking on to class, she let Angel come back to mind. Seeking out the identity of their lover was practically a female family tradition in the Beaureguarde clan. In addition to her grandfather Alcee being revealed to her grandmother, there had been her Aunt Elizabeth who had seen her husband Tom in a dream. Her own mother Aimee had gazed at the face of Evangeline’s dad in a bowl of spring water, sitting in her room on the night of her eighteenth birthday. The only difference was the faces they saw were familiar ones. They were men who were already known to the women. But Evangeline had never seen Angel before; she did not know where to find him or when she would find him. It was driving her crazy! It was as if a piece of her soul were missing.

Just last week she had cried on the phone with her cousin, Arabella. After listening and being sympathetic, Arabella had finally laid down the law. “Don’t waste time crying, Evangeline. Do something about it. You are a witch for heaven’s sake. Pull him to you, speed up the process. Take fate by the horns and make things happen.” So, she did.

At midnight Evangeline made her way down to the edge of the water. A breeze blew across Lady Bird Lake, causing her long dark hair to lift upwards and back, flowing like a wave of purest ebony. The hood of her long black cape caught her hair when it fell, and the sides of the cape billowed out to reveal the scarlet lining. She had sought a place out of the illumination of the security lights, but there was still enough glow from the near full moon to allow her to see how to work. It was Monday, the day of the moon, the day of the Goddess. Walking in a small circle, she sprinkled salt on the ground.

“I cast a circle of perfect love and perfect trust.

I ask the Goddess and the God for protection and power.”

Raising her hands, palm upward, she implored the waxing moon to grant her heart’s desire.

“Queen of tides, hear my voice,

I’ve found my way, I make the choice

I ask for passion, I call for love

I seek my heart’s mate by the moon above

She took an apple from her pocket and cut it in half, horizontally, with a small knife. Laying aside half of the apple, she took a pin from her pocket and traced the shape of a heart in the other piece. Then she carved her name, E-V-A-N-G-E-L-I-N-E, in an arch beneath the heart. Finally, she drew a small crescent moon next to her name.

Kneeling in the circle, she drew out a small jar of honey from the pocket of her dress. Pouring a stream of honey on the apple, she rose and spoke.

“Waters of life that flow through my veins

I ask him to love me, but not bound with chains

Water of power, rivers of earth

Send me a man who will know my true worth.”

Holding the inscribed half of apple in her hand, she threw it as far out into Lady Bird Lake as she could. Returning to her seated position, she anointed the other half of apple with the remaining honey and ate it, visualizing her soul mate, her spirit reaching out to his. She did not know his name, but she knew how he looked, how his hands felt on her body, how he tasted. Her Angel. Standing, she began to close the circle—thanking the deities, opening the door.

“I am the flow and I am the ebb, I am the weaver and I am the web.

Harm to none, my will be done, so mote it be.”

* * * *

“McAllister!” The chief called his name. “Come see me, will ya?”

Eric hung up his gear and made his way to Chief Kirby’s office. After a year and a half of serving with Chief Kirby, he had finally come to realize what a great boss she was. Like the rest of the men, working for a female Fire Chief had been a change. After a couple of rocky months, they had worked it all out. Eric had never counted himself a chauvinist, and now he was glad to say that he could prove it.

“Yea, chief.” He sat down at her desk.

“The calendar’s are in, Mr. July.” She held up a photograph of him that would cause his dad to call a Deacon’s meeting. Being raised the only son of a Baptist minister; Eric still knew exactly what his dad would say about any topic. In addition, he could hear the sermon in his head that this picture would prompt.

“Wow.” Eric held up the photo of himself. The lights had been hot, so the drops of sweat had been real. The photographer had posed him pulling off his fire coat—no shirt underneath—his chest muscles glistening and a look on his face that could melt butter. The man with the camera had told him to think of his favorite fantasy—and he had. Eric still remembered the scene that had flashed across his mind. He had thought of that same woman, the woman of his dreams. She would pull him to one side, away from prying eyes. So hungry for him, she can’t wait, pulling his pants down, her mouth hot and wet on his…

“Eric.”

Whoa! “Sorry, chief. I don’t think that I can mail one of these to my step mother.”

“I would think not.” She flipped through the other pictures. “Actually, I may have the best looking team of firefighters in the state. Now, what I called you in here for is a little bit more serious.”

“What’s up, chief?”

“We have a problem. You know this rash of fires that we’ve been having?”

“Right, it appears to be a string of arsons. Do they have any clues yet, as to who may be setting them?”

“I just got back from police headquarters. Eric, they’re convinced it’s a fireman.”

At Eric’s stunned expression, the chief held up her hands. “I know how stupid that sounds, but the evidence is beginning to pile up. What I need from you is a pair of watchful eyes. I trust you more than anyone else.”

“Thanks, chief.”

“You’ve earned it. Anyway, I wanted you to be informed. Don’t tell a soul—this is to be kept completely under wraps. Keep your eyes open. If you see anything suspicious, let me know.”

Eric walked out of the chief’s office in a daze. One of their own was setting fires, damaging property and putting people’s lives in danger? It was unthinkable! Now, his life was even more complicated.

* * * *

The drive to
Wildflower Way
should have been beautiful this time of year. But everything was so hot and so dry. Evangeline redirected the air vent toward her very pregnant cousin. “We shouldn’t have tried to come today, you’re miserable.”

“I am not miserable. I am the happiest woman in the world, I’m just uncomfortable, that’s all.” Arabella shifted in her seat. “Wait until you’re six months pregnant, and see how it feels.”

“I would love to be carrying my lover’s child.” Evangeline said longingly. “If I didn’t love the two of you so much, I would be eaten up with jealousy.”

“Nonsense, you are part of the reason that Jade and I found one another. If it hadn’t been for you and rest of the family, Jade—well—I don’t want to even think about it.  I can still remember how he looked, lying paralyzed in that hospital bed.  The image haunts me, Evangeline.  I thank the Goddess every day that we found him in time and were able to heal him.”

“Yes, we have much to be thankful for.  I’m so glad that mother has decided to move back to
Wildflower Way
. There was no way that I could keep up the grounds and the greenhouses, not in my condition. And I just couldn’t bear letting the place go.”
Wildflower Way
was more than just an herb farm for Arabella; it was a tangible piece of family history. After her dad had died, her mother Elizabeth had moved away, but Arabella had stayed and built a thriving business. But last winter had brought the winds of change and the love of her life. Now, she was living in downtown Austin, the wife of a conservative Texas congressional representative who had defied his handlers and his party’s base by marrying the witch who had saved his life and his soul.

“I can’t wait to see your Mother and Tyler. I think it’s so romantic. They are such a perfect couple. He’s so quiet and strong and she’s so—well, you know your mother better than I do. She’s a hoot!” Evangeline watched the road, looking for the exit that would take them off I-35 and deeper into the Texas Hill Country.

“Who would have thought that everything would turn out like it did? We solved a murder, Jade and Tyler brought down a serial killer, and both mother and I found the loves of our life.” Arabella Landale lay back against the headrest and counted her blessings.

“Not to mention, Angelique. Nanette swears that Dr. Francois will propose to Angelique before the next full moon.” Angelique was their grandmother’s life-long companion. They were much more than employee and employer, they were family—and so if Angelique was Nanette’s family—she was family to all of them. Angelique was a Santeria priestess, a fine compliment to the hoodoo rootwork the rest of the family practiced. Together, they were a formidable magical force. And the men in their lives loved them for it. Dr. Philippe Francois, Angelique’s man, had been the doctor who had come to Jade and tested him after his miraculous recovery. The doctor had been astounded. As a native of the island of Martinique, he had not seen such power in the states, not like the women of
Wildflower Way
had possessed.