Chapter 3

Jared took the front steps two at a time and raced through the double stained-glass doors of the hotel. Damn. His father was in the lobby speaking on the phone. Did the man ever sleep? Hoping to pass unnoticed, he hurried across the black and white-checked marble floor toward the family’s private elevator.

Not only had he and his father butted heads over updating the hotel, his father’s refusal to attend his Wiccan wedding ceremony angered Jared so much he’d been avoiding him.

The loss of Jared’s mother to cancer six years before had devastated them all. The Wiccan healers she’d insisted upon had done their best, but in the end failed to save her. His father’s grief manifested itself as hatred toward his mother’s people and the Wiccan way of life. Now Jared had neither the time nor the desire to explain Philippe’s latest trouble to their father.

Just before the elevator doors slid closed, their eyes met. His father’s hand rose as if to stop him but dropped back to his side when Jared shook his head.

In his suite of rooms, Jared grabbed the keys to his Porsche and a lightweight jacket. He placed his crystal ball into his backpack and slid a sheathed knife into his boot.

He checked his cell phone. “Merde.” The display read “low battery.” The damn thing didn’t work half the time anyway. He tossed it into his pack. I’ll charge it in the car. He glanced at the clock—twelve forty-five. It was later than he’d thought.

He took his mirror from his pocket. “Show me Kendra.” When her sleeping face filled the glass, Jared sighed with relief. Hopefully by the time she woke up he’d be back with Philippe. He picked up his backpack and, not knowing what he might face when he found his brother and Adam, added the tooled leather sheath which held his falcata with its ancient, charmed, curving blade, and went out the door.

****

Once the room was empty, a young woman emerged from the adjoining bedroom. She removed a small crystal ball from her bag and set it on Jared’s desk. Placing her hands on either side of the cool orb she called, “Chosen One, can you hear me?”

Adam Montief’s face appeared.

“I hear you, Kathleen. Is he gone?”

“Yes.”

“Did he contact the girl?”

“No.”

“Good. Soon Dupre will be dead, and Kendra will be mine for the taking.” The mist in the crystal ball turned oily black as it swirled, obscuring his laughing face.

****

Hours later, as the sun’s rays peeked over the horizon, Jared found himself in Tugaloo State Park near Gumlog, Georgia. How far was the bastard going? He climbed out of the Porsche and stretched cramped muscles. Morning light reflected off the surface of the lake. Exhausted, he wiped sweat from his forehead and took in his surroundings. Other than a stately great blue heron eyeing him speculatively and a family of turtles sunning themselves on a log, there wasn’t another creature to be seen. His mirror had led him to this spot, but the van with Philippe was nowhere in sight.

Frowning, he blinked the sleep from his eyes and noticed a patch of reeds which looked crushed. Afraid he was about to discover his brother’s lifeless body, Jared cautiously stepped forward. The only sound was the startled heron’s flapping wings as it took flight.

“Son of a bitch,” he swore through gritted teeth. Burned into a small cleared patch of dry ground were the words, “Not yet, Dupre.” Next to this lay a silver chain with a tiny black and green snarling gargoyle, something Philippe always wore. Jared took a deep breath as relief pumped through him.

“I’ll find you, motherfucker,” he yelled as he kicked a rotting log. “Fuck.” Pain shot through his foot and up into his knee. Jared limped back to the Porsche and jerked the door open. Wearily he slid onto the seat and gratefully laid his head back. He’d been one step behind Adam all night.

He glanced down at the pentagonal mirror lying on the seat next to him, a gift from his mother on his eighteenth birthday. She’d told him he’d been the first in many years who could work the magic in the mirror. He assumed it had been passed down through his mother’s people. But if the spirit was right, it had belonged to Angelique Dupre. The mirror, with its ability to show him whatever he wished to see, had never failed him. But, somehow, Adam had the power to block the images and sense when he was being watched.

Jared knew now Adam had led him to this spot, playing him like a fool, letting him see what he wanted him to see. Well, the time for games was over. The digital clock displayed eight forty-five. How had he lost all sense of time? Kendra would be awake by now and franticly wondering why she hadn’t heard from him. If he drove much farther, he’d never make it back in time. Would they have to postpone their wedding day? He’d wanted to wait and marry Kendra after his father trusted him enough to give him more responsibility in running the hotel. Now, on the brink of beginning their future together, here he sat miles from New Orleans and the woman he loved.

“Merde.” He punched the steering wheel. He had no choice but to go on, but what could he tell Kendra? He was following some deranged witch who’d threatened to kill both him and Philippe and harm her as well? She’d be determined to follow and help him. No, he had to convince her he left New Orleans because Philippe was in serious trouble and he had to find him. She’d be pissed, but he’d rather deal with that than have her in danger. He could only hope she’d understand.

He shook his head. Yeah right. She was going to be mad as hell, and he couldn’t blame her. With any luck he’d soon locate Philippe, and the wedding only delayed for a couple of days. Resigned, he took a deep breath and called Kendra. Crackle, crackle, crackle. Static was all he heard.

“Merde.” Why did he bother with the damn thing? Cell phones were great, unless you were a witch with too much power. He had three voice mails and one text message from Kendra. He winced when he read, “Where the hell are you?”

If his cell refused to work, he’d have to find an actual payphone. He snorted. If any still existed. Not knowing whether it would get through, he sent Kendra a reply, “Georgia. Call when I can. Cell won’t work. Love you.”

His gas gauge read half a tank. Eyes burning with fatigue, he ran his hands over his face. He’d used refreshing charms to stay awake, but they only worked for so long. All I need is a few minutes of sleep to clear my head, then I’ll get gas and try to call Kendra. These were his last thoughts before he laid his head back and exhaustion overtook him.