Gods (8 page)

“A lot has happened in the last three weeks. People have been asking me when you’ll be back. Even Giselle and her WAC girls wanted to know what happened to you. I can’t wait to see her face.”

“You’re still not making sense. Why is Giselle about to be humiliated?”

“According to the rumors at school, you skipped town because she and Eirik started dating.”

I stepped hard on the brakes and the car jerked to a stop. The driver behind us barely missed hitting us. He switched lanes and honked at us. I eased off the brakes.

“What?”

“Yep. I think she started the rumor, although she’s gone out of her way to deny it, which only makes people believe her. I can’t wait to see her face when she sees you.”

Giselle’s parents were probably the wealthiest family in Windfall and her mother could trace her ancestry to Madam Angelique de la Barthe, the supreme of a group of Witches who fled Salem during the Witch trials and settled in the bayou. While Madam Laveau gained notoriety in New Orleans, the new arrivals from Salem married the sons of the plantation owners in the surrounding counties and hid their gifts. We were surprised the Moutons hadn’t insisted our school be named Barthe High School. The family was the major contributor to the funds for the school. And now their daughter was claiming my man.

“She’s dating Eirik?” I asked when we pulled up outside the Moutons’ mansion.

Hayden laughed. “I knew that was eating you up. You’ve been quiet since I mentioned it. He must pick you up from school so you two can make out in front of everyone.”

Yes, I wanted to tell the entire world that Eirik was mine, but I wasn’t going to humiliate Giselle while doing it. Oh, who was I kidding? She’d humiliated me and other Witches plenty of times. Karma was a bitch. I pressed on the doorbell and schemed.

“Please, tell me you’re going to do it,” Hayden said.

“Yes,” a man asked in a British accent, and I whipped around, remembering another Brit—Lord Worthington. But the man staring down at me was tall and skinny, with a shock of white hair perfectly sleeked back into a ponytail.

“We are here to see Mrs. Mouton,” I said.

“May I know the names of the ladies seeking an audience with Madam Mouton?”

Was he for real? The gloves and the way he stood stiffly said he was a butler. I glanced at Hayden. She was struggling to keep a straight face.

“Lady Celestia Deveraux and Lady Hayden Ferrand,” I said and curtsied.

The butler didn’t crack a smile. “Wait here, please.”

We waited until he closed the door then we cracked up.

“A butler? Who has one around here?” Hayden asked.

Before I could respond, the door opened and the butler looked down his nose at us. “This way, please. Mrs. Mouton is receiving guests in the morning room.”

I’d never been inside the Moutons’ mansion, but I was impressed. They had a remarkable two-story foyer with two sets of stairs winding to the second floor. It was huge for a family of five. Giselle had an older brother, who was in college, and someone once said her grandmother lived with them and had her own wing. We followed the butler into a room where Mrs. Mouton was entertaining several men and women.

“Thank you, Charles,” she said and the butler bowed before leaving the room. “Friends,” Mrs. Mouton said, her hostess smile bright. “This is Celestia, the young lady who brought the son of Baldur into our lives.”

Expensive aftershaves and perfumes assaulted my senses as men stood to shake my hand and women pressed their cheeks to mine and kissed the air. They basically ignored Hayden and even separated us, so she stood aside. I wondered what they’d do if they knew she was an Immortal. Throw her out or beg her for the secret to immortality? I’d bet on the second one.

“When will he come to see us again?” a woman asked.

“Let’s not be too demanding of the young god, Cassandra,” Mrs. Mouton reprimanded her, her southern accent barely there. “It’s only been a week since the last meeting. He is busy. He left word yesterday he won’t be available for several weeks and we must continue rebuilding the Guild.” She flashed me a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Now, my darling child. What can I do for you?”

“Could we talk privately?”

“Of course. Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen.” She led the way to the study. It had bookshelves filled with leather-bound books. Most of them were about law. Her husband was a lawyer. “Do wait outside, Hayden.”

“No, she can stay,” I said. From Hayden’s face, she would not have left anyway. Annoyance flashed on Mrs. Mouton’s face, but she quickly recovered.

“Sit, please.” She took a chair and crossed her legs at the ankle, her eyes watchful. “You just disappeared after you begged Seamus to make a Call to protect the young Seeress in Oregon.”

Seamus? For a moment I was confused. Then I realized she’d just called Doctor B by his first name. “I was unwell.”

She studied me intently. “He lost his daughter, you know,” Mrs. Mouton continued.  “She was his only child, and he’s taken it hard.”

Oh no. From Hayden’s expression, she hadn’t known either. I’d really liked Shania. She’d always had some anecdotes to share with us whenever we visited their store in New Orleans.

“I didn’t know. How did she die?”

“In Kayville, Oregon, when we answered the Call. We didn’t know the Immortals would attack. Even though we won with the help of Eirik’s people, we lost some of our own.” She leaned closer and gripped my hand. “Now, I don’t want you worrying your pretty head about what some of our people are saying out there. Those blaming you for the deaths are wrong. They had a choice on whether to respond to the Call or not. Just because you weren’t there doesn’t mean you’d had a vision of the deaths and decided not to participate. Eirik made sure that those who lost members of their family were well-compensated for their loss.” She patted my hand and leaned back into her chair. “Now, what can I do for you?”

My stomach had dropped the moment she’d mentioned Shania’s death. Now it churned. Others blamed me for the deaths?

“Are you okay?” Mrs. Mouton asked. “Do you need to lie down?”

The refreshers and scones I’d eaten were threatening to spew from my mouth and redecorate her expensive rug. “May I use your bathroom?”

“Sure.” She pressed a button on the coffee table and Charles appeared. “Show Celestia to the bathroom.”

Charles led me past the morning room, where the guests were talking in whispers, and into the broad hallway and pointed at a door. I entered the room, locked the door, and sat on top of the toilet seat.

The blood of the dead Witches will be on your hands.

Marguerite’s words came back to haunt me. She’d gotten that right. Blood was on my hands. I begged Doctor B to make the Call and he’d ended up losing his only child. I’d known Shania for years, and now she was gone. Worse, I hadn’t participated in the Call. People must think I was a coward. Who else didn’t make it? I lowered my head between my knees until the lightheadedness passed. My stomach still churned and the urge to throw up was still there, but I was more in control.

I splashed water on my face and left the room. Charles stood just outside the room with a silver tray and a cute envelope with my name on it. I stared at it, then his face. He still wore a poker face.

“For you.”

I picked it up. “Who is it from?”

“I don’t know, Miss Celestia,” he said, staring straight ahead. “It was on the tray in the foyer when I left the kitchen.” He bowed and left.

“Uh, thanks,” I called after him and opened the note. It was from Eirik, and he was waiting for me at home. I felt a little better.

I slipped the note and the envelope in my pocket and went back toward the living room. The guests were quiet, then I realized why. I’d left the door open and they were shamelessly eavesdropping on the conversation between Hayden and Mrs. Mouton.

“You need to remember
whom
you are talking to, young lady,” Mrs. Mouton said coldly, her voice carrying. “You both claim she hasn’t been well for almost a month, yet she looks as healthy as a horse. Of course, people are talking. They were disappointed. She begged us to help that young Seeress, then her father hid her, so she wouldn’t be in danger.”

“She’s been in a coma and just woke up.”

“Where’s the proof?”

“Check the hospital records, Mrs. Mouton, before you go accusing her of being a coward. She couldn’t travel, but the moment they brought her back, her aunt made sure Dr. DuBois took care of her. And when she regained consciousness yesterday, her aunt took her in for tests.”

Hayden looked ready to leap across the room and strangle the woman when I entered the room. This time, I deliberately left the door ajar so the eavesdroppers could hear what I had to say.

“It’s all true, Mrs. Mouton. Dr. DuBois’ staff can confirm this. I was injured by an Immortal, slipped into a coma, and received treatment elsewhere. Just like Hayden said, my father brought me home a few days ago and Dr. DuBois, our family doctor, came to see me. My father never takes me to the hospital when I’ve been hurt through magic. Not since the week I was in a trance and woke up bleeding after an attack in the astral plane. The hospital can confirm this. So please, make sure the people blaming my father for hiding me know they are wrong. He would never hide me from my responsibilities because I am first, and foremost, a Witch.”

“Please, sit. Of course, I’ll explain to people about your absence and the attack. Is this why you came to see me?” The door flew open and Giselle burst into the room before I could respond. Her eyes widened when she saw me.

“You’re back?” she asked, her tone sharp. I didn’t bother to answer. Her eyes volleyed between Hayden, her mother, and me. “What’s going on?”

“Celestia and her friend stopped by for a visit, darling. Nothing big.”

She moved closer, her focus on me. “Where have you been?”

“She was attacked by an Immortal and slipped into a coma, but she’s back now. We’re almost done here. Tell Helga we’ll have dinner in half an hour.”

But Giselle didn’t leave. “Have you seen Eirik?” she asked.

“Giselle,” Mrs. Mouton warned.

“It’s okay. Yes, I’ve seen him,” I said without elaborating.

“He was the first to arrive when she regained consciousness,” Hayden added, not masking her glee. Man, she was mean. Giselle’s eyes narrowed on Hayden, then she whipped around and marched out of the room.

Mrs. Mouton didn’t mask her annoyance. She waited until Giselle closed the door behind her before saying, “I do have guests, so let’s make this quick.”

“I’m trying to find my mother. I’m turning eighteen in a few months and would like her to be there. I didn’t get to see her when she was in town because of the coma thing. I was told she was staying with you.”

Mrs. Mouton smiled. It was probably the first genuine smile I’d ever seen on her perfectly made-up face. “Yes, she was. Your mother and I go way back, so when she called and said she was coming into town, I insisted she and her girls stay with us. A few days turned into two weeks. We had a lot of catching up to do.”

“Girls?” Hayden and I said at the same time.

“The two girls she adopted.” The smile left her face. “You father was wrong to cut her off like that and separate the two of you. And to use magic as an excuse… Marguerite should have raised you and guided you. You’d be in our coven.”

I shuddered at the thought. I was more interested in the two girls than the lies Marguerite had fed Mrs. Mouton.

“I have half-sisters. I look forward to meeting them.” My enthusiasm was so fake I was surprised she didn’t see through it.

“I’m sure you will when you reconnect with your mother. Jessica is around your age.” She studied me. “Tall with beautiful golden hair. You both have the same blue eyes. Such a sweet girl, she brushed my hair every night and asked questions about the crazy things your mother and I did when we were young.” Mrs. Mouton touched her hair. “Giselle used to brush my hair when she was younger.”

I leaned forward and gave the woman my most sincere smile. Anne Marie had gray eyes. Still, this Jessica sounded a lot like her. “And the other one?”

Mrs. Mouton’s smile dimmed. “Miriam is your typical older sister, very protective and outspoken. She escorted Jessica home after staying here for a few days.”

“Does she also look like me?”

“Oh no. She’s taller with dirty blond hair.”

My bet was on Jessica. “Did they leave a forwarding address? I’m not even sure what name Mom uses since the divorce, so you are my last hope.”

“She still uses Deveraux.” Mrs. Mouton frowned. “She gave me a card, but I’m not sure where I put it. I’ll find it and give it to Giselle to bring to school. Jessica’s cell phone number is on it. Is there anything else?” she asked and stood, signaling the meeting was over. We got up too.

“No, that’s it. Thank you for talking to us, Mrs. Mouton.”

She indicated the door. “That’s why I’m here. I’m not just the Guild representative. I’m your mother’s oldest friend. If you need to ask anything else, come and see me.”

I had to bite my cheek to stop from laughing. Suddenly she and Marguerite were besties? Somehow I had a feeling her benevolence had everything to do with Eirik.