Witches of Bourbon Street (4 page)

“Sorry.” He gave me a rueful smile. “I forgot I’d promised Charlie I’d help with the promo stuff for the Halloween party.”

“Hey, Charlie.” I glanced over my shoulder at the club manager. She’d recently clipped her shocking red hair, and it stood up in random gelled spikes. Her slim build and heart-shaped face made her perfect for a career as a high-fashion model. Instead, she spent all her time managing the club and working her way through business school. “I hear it’s your fault I’m on this death trap in my little black dress.”

Her appreciation tickled my skin the way it always does when she’s feeling flirty. “Girl, if that skirt was a few inches shorter, we could turn you and that ladder into a new act.”

Kane chuckled and tilted his head for a better view of my backside.

I turned back to the portrait, ignoring both of them. Every few days one of them made a crack about recruiting me to work at Wicked. On occasion I helped out tending bar, but stripping was never going to happen and they both knew it.

“I think we’re out of luck,” Kane said to Charlie.

“You never know,” she mused. “I could spike her drink next week at the party. Then maybe we’ll see some of that peachy flesh.”

“For God’s sake.” I choked through my laughter. “That’s enough embarrassment for one night.” My already warm face burned hotter as Kane’s desire caressed my psyche. Last night’s dreamwalk flashed in my mind, making all my sensitive places ache. My eyes met Kane’s and I knew he was remembering our encounter. It had been one of the rare occasions when we hadn’t spent the night together. But since Kane is a dreamwalker, and can consciously will himself into my dreams, it hadn’t slowed down our sex life. On the contrary, the things he’d done to me… Mmm.

Charlie rapped her knuckles on the bar. “Are you two horn dogs done mentally undressing each other? ’Cause we’ve got about twenty minutes to finish this before the doors open.”

“You started it,” Kane said, still gazing at me.

Stop
, I mouthed to him and climbed down the ladder. Stepping back, I cocked my head to one side. “How does it look?”

The grotesque, mixed media 3-D portrait of papier-mâché and acrylic epoxy featured a wrinkled hag staring down at us, one eye wide open and the other squinted. Her long, narrow nose sat slightly off center directly over an oversized, chipped tooth. The only two redeeming qualities were her thick, auburn-brown hair and the deep emerald green of her eyes.

“Ah, Priscilla, you’re looking especially fierce,” Charlie said.

“Priscilla?” I asked.

“Yep. Her name’s etched in the frame. That’s Meri—” she pointed across the room to a skeletal-faced hag, “—and this is Felicia.” Charlie held up a third portrait. The woman would have been beautiful, with her Caribbean blue eyes and silky blond hair, had it not been for half of her face peeling off.

“Jeez. Poor Felicia. It must have been quite a blow to her ego to be given such a deformity.” I grimaced, following Kane as he moved the ladder.

Charlie’s lips twitched. “She’s my favorite.”

I shook my head. “Do you ever stop?”

“Nope. Now get your skinny ass back up on that ladder so we can get this done.”

After I tied my hair back, I climbed up one more time and held my hand out. Kane handed me Felicia, and I secured her frame to the wall. As I was straightening the unusual piece of art, a foreign stream of sadness filtered through my being. I stiffened. Emotional energy has a distinct imprint specific to each person. The sadness didn’t belong to Kane or Charlie, which meant either a stranger was in the club, or we had another ghost.

I turned and studied the empty room. “Did someone just pop in for a moment? One of the dancers, maybe?”

“No. Why? Did you hear something?” Kane scanned the room.

“No, I thought I sensed someone new. I could’ve been mistaken.” But I had sensed
someone
. I took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and opened my awareness. Stale, gritty lust crawled over my skin. Great, now I needed a shower.

There was a reason I usually avoided the club. Even when it was empty, it retained a sexual imprint of its past patrons. I did my best to push the lust aside and focused on Charlie. Her normal playfulness now housed a thread of worry as she studied me. I forced a smile and shut the door on her energy.

Kane’s wouldn’t be so easy. Ever since we’d gotten together, I could tap into his emotions as if they were my own, making it virtually impossible to fully block him out. I could push it aside, but when he was near me, I always knew how he was feeling, whether I wanted to or not. It was one of the reasons I’d refused to move in with him, even though he’d asked. Sometimes I just needed my own head space.

The longer I remained silent, the more his trepidation grew. “It’s all right,” I said. “Nothing’s here.”

“You’re sure?” he asked.

It was a reasonable question. Three months ago, I’d been in a coma while, Roy, the evil ghost and former owner of Wicked, kept me locked in another dimension. Roy had first captured Pyper after a failed spell by Lailah. I’d managed to free her by tapping her emotional energy, but had, unfortunately, taken her place in the process. The only reason I’d escaped was because Kane had pulled most of our friends into a dreamwalk, and combined with Bea’s powers, we’d been able to banish him to Hell. Once you’ve gone through something like that, anything seems possible.

“I’m sure.” I smiled reassuringly at the pair of them and turned back to the portrait. “Let’s finish this. Is she straight?”

“A little to the left,” Charlie said.

The peeling paint was rough on my fingertips as I nudged the frame.

“A little more.”

I pushed harder. The frame swung wildly, and I grasped it with both hands to keep it from falling. “Oops.” I straightened it. The earlier foreign emotional energy returned, this time full of glee. I yanked my hands back. The glee vanished. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” the pair below said in unison.

I climbed down off the ladder, keeping my eyes on the blue-eyed, disfigured beauty. “There’s someone in that portrait.”

“What?” they said again.

“The foreign energy is coming from her. That weird art project has something…or someone trapped in it.” Could this be happening again? We’d just gotten rid of two spirits. I sure as heck didn’t want to deal with another one. I turned to Kane. “Can you move the ladder? I want to probe the other two.”

His expression and energy betrayed his skepticism, but he did as I asked. When I was in position, I deliberately placed both hands on Priscilla’s frame. A stirring of curiosity trickled up my arms. I gripped tighter, but didn’t tap into anything else. As soon as I let go, the curiosity disappeared. Interesting.

I repeated my experiment with Meri, but no amount of probing produced anything. I climbed off the ladder and sat in one of the blue, crushed velvet chairs. “That’s weird. The first two give off energy, but Meri doesn’t.”

“Are you sure it was coming from the portraits?” Charlie sat beside me and downed a shot of amber liquid. The sweet aroma of rum filled the air.

I rubbed my forehead. “I think a couple of ghosts are trapped in those frames.”

“Huh,” Charlie said. “I guess there is something to that rumor.”

“Which one?” I asked.

“The one about the three ugly ghosts.”

A vague memory of Kane explaining the club’s tagline surfaced. The marquee out front read:
Hundreds of beautiful women and three ugly ones
. When I asked what it meant, Kane had said they were ghosts. Later, he had assured me it was an urban legend made up for the annual Halloween party.

“But I only felt two.” I frowned.

She shrugged. “Maybe Meri followed someone home.”

***

“She was joking,” Kane said over his menu. “She found those portraits at a secondhand store last week and bought them for the Three Ugly Women costume party the club is having on Halloween.”

“Costume party?” I peered at him over my wine glass.

“Each year we have an Ugly Woman contest. The ladies dress up in their scariest, ugliest costumes, and at midnight they strip, unveiling their natural beauty. The crowd votes on the best costumes and the dancing. The winner gets a weekend stay at one of the hotels in the French Quarter. Plus she gets crowned Halloween Queen and all the free drinks and lap dances she wants.”

“Sounds fun,” I said dryly.

He laughed. “It is.”

“So what do the portraits have to do with it?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. Charlie saw them and thought they’d be good decorations for the event.”

They would have been great for the party, but after my revelation, Kane had taken them down and stored them in the supply room. He wasn’t taking any chances on freaky paranormal activity. Frankly, I’d been relieved. “I’m sure she’ll find something else.”

Kane nodded. “I thought you said we were meeting Pyper and her date?”

“We are.” I glanced at the time on my phone. “I’m sure they’ll be here any minute.”

“Never mind.” He jerked his head toward the front door.

I spotted Pyper standing at the entrance of Muriel’s, the restaurant she’d picked for the night’s double date. She smoothed the skirt of her black and white print dress, smiling as the front door opened and her date joined her.

Wine lodged in my throat, forcing a coughing fit.

“Everything all right?” our waitress asked.

“Fine,” I wheezed.

Kane stared at me. “Ian’s her date?”

I didn’t have time to answer.

“Sorry we’re late,” Pyper said from behind me. “Ian took me on a ghost hunt.”

“What?” I turned around so fast I almost tipped over. She caught the back of my chair, sparing me from landing flat on my back with my legs in the air. “A ghost hunt? You?”

She took a seat next to me, but not before she snagged a sip from my wine glass. “Thanks.” She handed back the wine. “And yes. I figured the only way to get over my anxiety is to learn more about ghosts. So, I asked Ian to take me.”

That made perfect sense. The terrifying, claustrophobic sensation of being nailed down and trapped in a glass box came roaring back, making me fidget uneasily. After I’d freed Pyper from Roy’s hold and taken her place, I’d been able to stave off the ghost’s punishments. She hadn’t been as lucky; she’d been tortured for three days. I nodded my understanding and tried to ignore Kane’s stifling irritation. “Long time, no see,” I said to Ian, noting his signature all black ensemble. Black jeans, black T-shirt, and black short-sleeved button-down shirt.

“Better today?” He flashed a knowing smile.

He knew damn well I was better. Had been right after Bea tricked me into drinking that tea. I smirked and tried to block out the memory of the last time I’d been at Muriel’s with Ian. That time we’d been on a date, and he’d spent the whole night scanning the place for ghosts. I prayed we wouldn’t be witness to a repeat performance.

“When did Ian turn into your date?” I whispered to Pyper.

“About two hours ago when I asked him. Are we ready to order?”

A waitress appeared from nowhere and jotted down our requests.

When she left, Pyper filled her wine glass and turned to me. “When are you going to tell me about the haunted portraits?”

Ian’s interest piqued and pressed on my skin. I bit my lip. Damn. Now we’d have to have the discussion in front of Ian, who no doubt would want to investigate. It was what he did. “How did you know about that already?”

“I talked to Charlie.”

“Go ahead. They’re going to find out sooner or later,” Kane said.

I leaned over and kissed his cheek. After a bite of buttered bread, I set it down and explained what happened. As predicted, Ian wanted to get some readings. When he asked if he could get a reading with me, I shook my head before Kane could say anything. “No. I’d rather not. Go ahead and take readings if you want or have Bea or Lailah check it out, but I’m happy staying out of this one.”

Ian looked disappointed, but perked up when Pyper said, “I’ll help.”

I sat straight up, ready to diffuse the coming argument. No way was Kane going to let that go. Pyper and I were the two most important people in his life. He didn’t want either of us involved.

Pyper seemed to be channeling my thoughts because she sent Kane a pointed stare, daring him to say something.

He sucked in a breath. I barely noticed him bite the side of his cheek before he raised one shoulder in a slight shrug. I could tell it was killing him to stay silent by the way his irritation poked at my psyche. I sent him some of my own calm, mostly because I didn’t want anyone causing a scene.

Pyper and Ian filled us in on their uneventful ghost hunt all the way through dinner. To my surprise, Ian didn’t crane his neck once to look for the famed ghost that supposedly haunted the French Quarter restaurant. By the time dessert came, I was actually relaxed and enjoying myself.

Kane and I shared a crème brûlée, and Pyper and Ian had a molten chocolate cake.

“I’ve been craving this all day.” Pyper closed her eyes and moaned her appreciation.