Grim Rising (Aisling Grimlock Book 7) Page 5

  “I usually get her every time,” I pointed out, gripping my coffee mug tighter as I stared into it. “Do you think I’m slipping?”

  “I think you have a lot on your mind and you need to talk to Griffin about it.” Jerry kept one ear on the conversation but was clearly more interested in the magazine. “He’ll want to know what you’re feeling.”

  “I can’t tell him what I’m feeling,” I scoffed. “He’ll get angry and yell.”

  “He always gets angry and yells.”

  “Yes, but this time it won’t be funny or sexy, because it will hurt his feelings,” I pointed out. “That’s the last thing I want to do.”

  “Bug, I’ve decided you’re panicking because you need something to do,” Jerry said after a moment. “It’s been a quiet six weeks. Ever since you ended that mirror monster thing and recovered from your injuries, it’s been calm. The only thing you’ve had to focus on is the fact that Griffin proposed.

  “The problem is, you’re convinced something else bad is going to happen and you can’t seem to stop yourself from focusing on that,” he continued. “That means you’re creating scenarios in your head that aren’t going to happen.”

  I sipped my coffee and stared, unblinking.

  “Stop doing that,” Jerry muttered, averting his gaze. “You know I hate it when you do that.”

  I did know that. When people don’t blink it freaks him out. He’s convinced that’s one way to recognize the oncoming zombie apocalypse. We’re both still waiting for that, by the way. We’ve upped our planning a great deal.

  “I’m not creating scenarios,” I said, batting my eyelashes before holding open my eyes again, taking perverse pleasure when Jerry involuntarily shuddered. “The odds of me making it through the next … um, let’s say month … without getting attacked are pretty slim. I can’t help wondering if Griffin deserves a better life than what I can give him.”

  “Oh, stuff it.” Jerry made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat as he turned back to the magazine. “You’re a drama queen. Has anyone ever told you that?”

  My eyebrows migrated up my forehead. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard what I said.” Jerry refused to back down. “You’re a complete and total drama queen, and you make me look rational and sane.”

  “I think that’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said to me,” I shot back, tapping an anxious finger on the table. “By the way, you once told me that you dreamed of being the next Dolly Parton and moving to Nashville so you can live in the Grand Ole Opry. I still think that is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever told me.”

  “Hey!” Jerry extended a warning finger. “I still maintain that’s a viable life choice.”

  “You can’t sing.”

  “I sing like an angel.”

  “You can’t play an instrument.”

  “I can learn.”

  “Well, I doubt very much they have anything like the Fox Theatre in Nashville,” I snapped.

  “I could live without that,” Jerry said, his eyes flashing with impatience. “I didn’t move to Nashville because I didn’t want to be away from you.”

  My irritation flagged as warmth washed over me. “Oh, that’s kind of sweet.”

  “That was before I knew you were crazy and trying to sabotage your own happy ending,” Jerry said, his expression serious. “I’m not joking, Bug. You need to tell Griffin why you’re worried – and I will check to make sure you’ve told him the whole truth, so don’t even think of doing one of those half-lie things you’re so fond of – because he’s better than me these days at talking you down from a ledge.”

  There was truth in Jerry’s words, but it was obviously hard for him to admit it. I impulsively reached over and grabbed his hand. “You’ll always be the best one at talking me off a ledge. You’re so good at it you should be able to list it under ‘special skills’ on your résumé.”

  “Thank you, Bug.”

  I returned his heartfelt smile. “I’m not telling Griffin what I’m worried about, by the way. That will upset him, and I hate upsetting.”

  Jerry’s smile slipped. “Oh, you’re going to tell him. If you don’t, I’ll tell him. I’ll get extra points for being his hero and everything, because he thinks I always take your side.”

  “You do always take my side,” I huffed. “That’s why you’re my best friend.”

  “No, I’m your best friend because I always try to do what’s right for you,” Jerry countered. “What’s right for you is to be with Griffin. You’re happy with him, content. He makes you smile. Heck, he makes you giggle. You’ve never been a giggler even though I tried for years to transform you into a girl’s girl. It’s nice to see that when you’re with him.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but Jerry silenced me with a look.

  “I’ll tell him because it’s the best thing for you,” Jerry continued. “You need to get it off your chest. You told him about your wedding fears yesterday – that he would somehow be unhappy with your choices – and you’re already over that. You’ll be over the fear factor of your job just as quickly if you tell him what you’re feeling.”

  Part of me believed Jerry’s assertion. The other part clung to the doubts fueling me. “If you tell him, I’ll wrestle you down and give you a swirly.”

  Jerry didn’t so much as blink. “If you try, I’ll pick out your wedding dress myself and it’ll be nothing but ruffles and lace. Scratchy lace, to boot.”

  “That’s just mean.”

  “I’m feeling mean,” Jerry said. “I don’t want you to ruin this, Bug. Griffin loves you. I get being afraid that something is due to happen with your job. Something always happens with your job, for crying out loud. Don’t let it overtake your life. I don’t like it. I want you happy.”

  I contemplated what he said, draining the rest of my coffee and considered ordering another – they were seven hundred calories each, and despite what I’d said about watching my weight, I didn’t think it would hurt to cut back on a few daily calories – when I caught a flash of violent pink through the window. I turned in that direction, mildly curious about who would purposely wear that color, and frowned when I saw Angelina strolling by. The pink was from one of the shopping bags she carried.

  “Well, well, well,” I muttered, slanting my eyes as I watched her head toward the kitschy voodoo shop across the way. “Perhaps we haven’t lost out on our chance to land a few solid zingers on Angelina after all.”

  Jerry followed my gaze, blasé. “She went into the voodoo shop.”

  “I noticed. She’s probably buying dolls that look exactly like us.”

  Jerry’s eyes widened. “Do you think that’s really a thing?”

  “Probably not,” I conceded, “but it might be cool if that’s what she was doing.”

  “I don’t think it would be cool to have a witch like Angelina sticking needles in my chest.”

  “It would be a doll that looked like you, not you. You wouldn’t feel anything.”

  “Um … I think that goes against the very tenets of voodoo.”

  I’d actually done a bit of research on voodoo at one point – mostly because I was curious about various religions because of my job, and I’d yet to cross a voodoo practitioner – and I figured I should explain that the doll wasn’t really a big part of the voodoo faith. A religious history lesson sounded more boring than anything else at the present moment, though, especially since the sugar was kicking my system into overdrive.

  “Let’s go over there,” I suggested.

  Jerry wasn’t nearly as excited by the prospect. “Why?”

  “Because I want to get back on the right insulting track. I have a reputation to uphold.”

  “But … it’s cold out.” Jerry adopted a whining tone. “Do you really hate Angelina enough to bundle up, cross the street and go into a voodoo shop just to mess with her?”

  “Did you just meet me?”

  Jerry stared me down for a long time before heaving a resign
ed sigh. “Fine. I’ll go with you if you agree to tell Griffin what’s worrying you.”

  Wait … he was blackmailing me? “I just said … .”

  Jerry cut me off with a wave of his hand. “Those are my terms.”

  “Fine.” I forced out the word even though I wanted to kick him. “I’ll tell Griffin what worries me. Will that make you happy?”

  “For the moment.” Jerry tossed a tip on the table and grabbed the magazine before standing. “I won’t truly be happy until you’re married and I know you won’t do anything dramatic to torpedo yourself. But this is a nice start.”

  “Whatever.” I theatrically threw my scarf around my neck, hitting Jerry in the face with the end of it as I headed toward the door. “I’m going to make Angelina cry before the day is out. I promise you that.”

  “I have absolutely no doubt.”

  JERRY AND I WERE careful as we let ourselves into Voodoo Vacation, a colorful shop with shrunken heads in the window and a flamboyant middle-aged woman behind the counter. I cast a quick look around the shop searching for Angelina, but I didn’t immediately see her. The shop was big enough that it boasted three rooms, so that wasn’t a surprise.

  The woman behind the counter had light brown eyes – they were almost gold – and caramel skin. Her hair was completely covered by a bright satin scarf, and she wore an ankle-length skirt and white peasant blouse as she fixed me with a bright smile. She looked to be in her fifties – maybe even sixties – but her skin was smooth despite the age reflected in her eyes.

  “We’re just looking around,” I answered automatically.

  “Actually, we’re looking for dolls so we can stick pins in them,” Jerry corrected, beaming at the store clerk as he immediately headed in her direction. “We have a lot of enemies and it would be easier to torture them from the safety of our homes than venture out when the weather is cold.”

  Instead of being offended, the woman let loose with a sparkling laugh. “I think we might be able to arrange something. I’m Madame Dauphine. Welcome to my shop.”

  I cocked an eyebrow, genuinely amused. “Dauphine, huh?”

  She nodded. “That is correct.”

  “It’s a lovely name,” Jerry enthused. “Do you have potions here? Can I curse people with potions if they do something I don’t want?” He spared a quick glance for me. “I’m not talking about you, Bug.”

  “Whatever.” I skirted around the front display shelf, casting a sidelong look at the pretty pottery but keeping my attention on Dauphine. “It’s an interesting name. A dauphine is the wife of the heir to the French throne, right?”

  Dauphine nodded. “Yes.”

  “It’s also a street in New Orleans,” I added. “I read about it when I researched Marie Laveau’s history. Her father reportedly lived on it, which I believe means she lived on it for a time if I’m not mistaken.”

  Madame Dauphine beamed. “Tres bon! It’s not often that I find someone in this area who knows anything about New Orleans history.”

  “I happen to have a unique interest in religion,” I supplied. “I like learning about all of them.”

  “And which do you practice?”

  “I’m kind of lapsed.”

  “From what?”

  It seemed like a dangerous question to answer given the circumstances. “Just lapsed.” I forced a smile as I circled a small display shelf. “Someone came in here a few minutes ago … tall woman, long hair, a face that only a mother could love. Do you know where she went?”

  “It’s not my job to babysit customers,” Dauphine replied. “She’ll show up when she’s ready.”

  Hmm. That was an interesting way of looking at things. “Well, I guess we can wait for her outside.” Dauphine’s presence made me uncomfortable. She wasn’t the only “madame” in town with the ability to do that. She made Madame Maxine look downright friendly, though, and there was something about Dauphine and the way she carried herself that set my teeth on edge.

  “You don’t have to leave,” Dauphine countered, tapping her long fingernails on the counter. Jerry, bless his heart, remained oblivious to the tension roiling between us. He was much more interested in the potions he perused. “In fact, I’ve been searching for a way to introduce myself to you.”

  “Oh, really?” I arched a challenging eyebrow. The woman was good at unnerving people, but I grew up with four brothers and prided myself on the fact that I could derange strangers in five minutes flat. She was no match for me. “That’s … interesting. Why is that?”

  “Because you straddle two worlds, like myself, and I’m always looking for others who can see death and walk beside it.”

  I stilled, her words washing over me like a cool breeze in sub-zero temperatures and causing me to involuntarily shudder. “Excuse me?”

  “You peddle in death,” Dauphine noted. “I do, too. I have for a very long time.”

  There was something about her voice, the way she carried herself, that had me flashing to Marie Laveau. I’d seen photographs and depictions in the various books I’d read when I resigned myself that I would have to join the family reaping business. This woman was doing a fantastic impersonation of the television variety, not reality.

  “I see. So … you believe in all this?” I held up a pair of odd-looking sticks and made a face. “What are these?”

  “Chicken feet.”

  “Gross.” I hurriedly dropped the feet where I found them and moved forward enough to search the room to the left. It was empty. No sign of Angelina. “What was I saying?”

  “You were asking if I believe in voodoo.” Dauphine’s smile was eerie as she watched me move to the room at the right and scan it. “You’re the only ones here.”

  “Yes, but we saw Angelina Davenport come inside,” I argued. “She didn’t leave. We were watching the front door the entire time.”

  “Perhaps I have more than one door,” Dauphine suggested. “Perhaps your friend was merely picking up an order she already placed and didn’t have time to waste talking about … perception and religion.”

  Dauphine had a way of talking down to me that grated. I was sure Angelina would enjoy it – she often talked the same way, after all – but it made me want to start throwing punches.

  “Well, in that case, we really should be on our way.” I turned to Jerry, but he didn’t so much as glance in my direction. “We need to go.”

  “Just a minute, Bug. She has love potions … and money potions … and potions to make people you don’t like itchy.”

  Oh, well, that was interesting. “Grab one of those itchy ones. I want to use it next time my brothers get full of themselves.”

  “I already grabbed four of them.”

  “Good thinking.” I kept my gaze focused on Dauphine. She studied me with undisguised interest. “Is there something you need?”

  “I believe you came in here because there’s something you need,” she countered. “You’re at a crossroads in your life and you have questions. I have answers. Although, you might not be ready for them.”

  “You’re good.” I wagged a finger, my heart rate speeding up. I had to give Dauphine credit. She was excellent at manipulating people. I wasn’t sure how she was capable of reading people the way she was, but it was unnerving. “Why was Angelina in here?”

  “I really cannot say,” Dauphine replied. “Everyone is entitled to privacy, are they not?”

  “Not Angelina.” I shook my head. “She’s evil.”

  “She’s something other than evil,” Dauphine corrected. “She’s neither good nor evil. Most people aren’t one thing. They are many.”

  “I’m good,” Jerry said, raising his hand to get Dauphine’s attention. “I’m so good I should have a halo and wings.”

  Dauphine beamed at him. “You truly do have a giving soul. There is no doubt about that.” She flicked her eyes back to me. “Your friend is more … ambivalent … about things like that. She bounces back and forth between beliefs and philosophies.”

 
; Jerry stared at Dauphine for a beat and then shook his head. “No. She’s good. She’s just good in a different way. She’s good with minor lapses into evil.”

  Dauphine smiled. “That’s an interesting way of looking at it.”

  “I like to think outside the box.” Jerry carried his cache of potions to the counter. “Now, talk to me about voodoo dolls. I want, like, ten of them.”

  Dauphine widened her eyes. “Ten? How can a good person attract so much negativity?”

  Jerry wasn’t bothered by the question. “Just lucky, I guess. We should get to it. We have more wedding dress shopping to get to this afternoon.”

  I groaned at the words, flicking my eyes to the window at the front of the store. A light snow fell outside, leaving me feeling bereft and longing for spring. “I thought we were done dress shopping today.”

  “You’re not done until the dress finds you,” Dauphine said. “If you want the marriage to work, you need the perfect dress, right?”

  Jerry snorted before I had a chance to answer. “She’ll be fine whether or not she finds the perfect dress. The perfect dress is for me. Everything else – the marriage and love – is them. They’ll be fine.”

  “You seem pretty sure about that.”

  “Sometimes you recognize power when you see it,” Jerry said. “I don’t know how to explain it, but it happens. There is power in love, and when you see it you want it.”

  “It is always illuminating when you recognize power in others.” Dauphine’s gaze was weighted as it landed on me.

  “Aisling and Griffin are powerful when they’re together,” Jerry said. “That’s how I know they’ll love each other forever.”

  It was a simple and sweet sentiment, and I was going to tell him as much, but Jerry opened his mouth again and ruined the spell.

  “I need a book that tells me how to curse people I don’t like, too,” Jerry added. “There’s this woman at work who is driving me crazy. I would love to make her hair fall out.”

  Dauphine stared blankly at Jerry. “I see.”

  “Move.” Jerry made small shooing motions with his hands. “We don’t have all day.” He flicked a glance to me. “Sheesh. Can you believe this?”