With a deep breath to calm himself, Jax opened the door.
Streetlight lit up the woman on his bed. Her hair was dark, her skin pale. She looked nothing like the St. Croix girls, but she didn’t need to. The part of Therese he needed wasn’t her body.
The woman looked towards him, her eyes widening. He knew what she’d see: the man with a skeleton face. He wore the mask – or face paint – since Therese died. It was how he mourned and one of the ways he honored Baron Samedi, often depicted with a skeleton face.
Jax looked over the woman in his bed.
She pulled at the handcuffs holding her in place. A gag was in her mouth and her feet tied at the ankles with rope. Her makeup was smeared from tears, her nose red from crying. She wore a bra and underwear, and goose pimples turned her exposed skin from smooth to rough. She felt the blood magic he was calling upon. She smelled of herbs and ritual powders he’d dressed her with during the first stage of the rite.
“What happens tonight is an honor,” he told her. “You will become the living host for the spirit of the woman I love most.”
She listened.
“I promise you, my goal isn’t to kill you. Sometimes the rite fails or the Red Man senses Therese’s spirit and might slaughter you. But those things aren’t intentional, and I will do everything I can to bring you back.”
The woman tried to speak to him, probably to beg. Tears fell faster down her face.
“The pain doesn’t last long,” he promised the woman.
Jax closed the door to his bedroom and approached the bed, raising the knife.
I am not a killer.
Chapter Six
Adrienne’s second day of school started without the rain. The busy New Orleans morning fell away as she stepped onto the private campus with its sycamore trees and manicured lawns. The historic Southern architecture of the school was pristine: graceful white buildings with columns, cobblestone drives and walkways, lush gardens. She’d loved the campus since first setting foot on it. It was like an oasis in the middle of the busy city. The scent of honeysuckle and lavender and the beauty of the grounds made the trip to class almost magical. She passed through the administrative buildings and paused at the fork in the walkway. One direction led towards the sports stadium and practice fields while the other went towards the school.
The football team was practicing. She could hear them on the near practice field. Wanting to see if the guy from the cafeteria played sports, she checked her watch and decided to check the field. She had a few minutes before she was meeting her voice instructor.
Curious, Adrienne started towards the practice field, not intending to go too close. A coach somewhere was belting orders to the players, and she tried not to smile. The players were coated in mud from the rain yesterday. Clutching her iPad to her chest, she stopped across the narrow cobblestone street from the field, watching the quarterbacks toss balls down field while their quieter coach physically altered their stances or throwing positions.
She wasn’t the only one watching. The man dressed all in red stood on one sideline, the dark opening of his hood facing her. Catching sight of him from the corner of her eye, she twisted her head to focus on him.
He was real. She’d seen him twice now. What did he want? Why didn’t he just talk to her, the way the spirits of her ancestors did?
Innately, she knew she needed to fear him. Her body reacted, screamed for her to run. But if he could hand her answers …
A loud curse and a burst of laughter turned her attention back to the football players. One of the quarterbacks was rubbing his chest as he bent to retrieve a football he’d missed. He straightened, and she was surprised to see him staring in her direction. With the helmet on, his face was hidden, but he waved.
“Washington! Stop flirting and pay attention!” the coach called.
Adrienne flushed and moved away. She had no idea if it were the guy from the cafeteria or not and turned away to leave, embarrassed by the attention. She automatically glanced towards the sideline. The man in the red robe was nowhere to be seen.
Maybe I imagined it. Still, the strange sighting left her uneasy. She hurried into the music school for her lesson.
“You memorize some lines last night?” Christie, the instructor, asked as she entered.
Adrienne nodded. “I knew most of them. I was Cosette at my old school, though the production wasn’t to this scale.”
“It’s an annual holiday tradition here. You’ll blow them out of the water.”
Adrienne smiled. Christie had given her the lead part in Les Miserable without a tryout and was working on catching her up to the rest of the kids, who’d had a month of practice already.
“Let’s do some warm-ups,” Christie said and sat at the grand piano at one side of the music room.
Adrienne set down her things and crossed to stand by the piano. The forty-five minute lesson passed quickly. Christie was a challenging teacher, one whose ability to hear pitch was flawless. Adrienne always thought she was on key, but Christie could detect the faintest flaw.
The lesson was soon over, and Adrienne hummed to herself as she gathered her things. She opened the door to the music room and froze.
“You still owe me a name.” The guy from the cafeteria was leaning against the wall across the hallway. He glanced up from his smart phone. The sparkling eyes, tall frame and relaxed confidence floored her. She’d never met anyone who had the sort of presence that musical directors used to lecture her classes about.
Like a total idiot, she was speechless again.
“Or, you can not tell me and just let me buy you lunch. I owe you,” he said at her hesitation.
That someone as strong and handsome as he might be interested in her …
At least until he realized she was cursed.
She panicked and closed the door, safe in the music room with the piano. Kicking herself mentally, she tried to figure out why she was being so silly around him. Her heart was flying, her ears buzzing. Okay, so she liked him. But she’d liked other guys before and never acted like such a flake. She’d never really interacted with boys, though, unless they were the brothers of her friends she grew up with from her old school. She didn’t know how to talk to this guy.
It was time she learned. She was seventeen, for God’s sake! On the count of three, she’d open the door and tell him her name. Then, if she wanted to run, she could.
More nervous than performing in front of a crowded auditorium, Adrienne drew a deep breath.
One. Two. Three.
She opened the door. He was gone. She stepped out of the music room and saw he was down the hallway.
“Adrienne,” she called.
He stopped and turned. Her face felt warm again, but she held her ground this time, telling herself it was silly to run from some nice guy she’d just met.
“I’m Jayden,” he said. “You’re amazing.”
She stared at him.
“I mean, you sing amazingly.” His smile was quick, a little nervous. He rushed on. “I heard you yesterday morning after practice. Not that you’re not amazing, too. Just … I heard you sing first then saw you and it fits.” He stopped and cleared his throat. “Nice to meet you, Adrienne.”
He was as flustered as she was. It made her feel better, knowing she wasn’t the only one.
“If I walk down there to shake your hand, are you gonna run again?” he asked.
“Probably,” she admitted, clutching the iPad more tightly to her chest.
“Okay.” He laughed. “Um, I’ll email you through the school system. What’s your last name?”