Palling around with a psychic had its drawbacks. It was one thing for her to give me a reading when I was paying for it, but when she told me something she saw because she felt compelled to tell me—well, quite honestly, it made me worry.
Nearly a dozen people stood around, waiting for our hostess or tour guide or whatever she would be calling herself tonight.
“I don’t believe in ghosts,” Jenna said—three times—like a mantra.
Which made me think maybe she did believe in them. She sounded nervous. I knew she didn’t like scary things.
“I have a feeling Sara will have us convinced before the night is over,” Brady said.
“Yeah, well, just don’t let go of my hand,” I ordered. “And hold me close if I get scared.”
“I hope you get scared,” he said in a low voice near my ear.
“Me, too.” A delicious shiver went through me. “I can practically guarantee it.”
He was standing behind me, and he tightened his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. He dropped a kiss onto my bare shoulder.
Oh yeah, I might get scared, but it would be the good kind of scared, where we held each other close and laughed. Or maybe just kissed. I was starting to like him so much—and that scared me most of all.
When she finally arrived, Sara was dressed all in black, a black, hooded cloak swirling around her. It seemed like the fog was trailing in behind her. Her vibrant red hair was the only visible color. She was wearing it down and it flowed past her shoulders.
“Good evening,” she said in a very melodramatic, haunting voice. “Does anyone not have a partner?”
Everyone was already paired up.
“Good,” she said. “Now, I want you to hold your partner’s hand and no matter what happens, don’t let go. People have been known to disappear on the streets of New Orleans and never be seen again.”
A chill went through me. Yeah, she was going to have us believing in ghosts.
“We are known as the most haunted city in the country,” she continued. “And sometimes the spirits get jealous of the living. If you listen closely as we walk through the streets, sometimes you’ll hear them crying, sometimes you’ll hear them singing, sometimes you’ll hear them dying.”
I squeezed Brady’s hand and rose up on my toes, so only he would hear me. “Are we sure we want to do this?”
“Oh yeah. And if you get so scared you need someone to sleep with you tonight—I’m there.”
I didn’t think I was going to get that scared, but who knew?
And okay, quite honestly, snuggling up with Brady appealed to me. It was frightening how quickly and how hard I was falling for the guy.
He was nice, he was fun, and he was hot. I just liked the way I felt when we were together. Like we were part of something.
“Follow me as we seek out the lost souls of New Orleans,” Sara said in that spooky voice she’d perfected. It sent more chills over my flesh.
Must have sent chills over Brady’s, too, because he put his arm around me, like holding hands wasn’t enough to keep us from getting lost. We headed up Royal Street.
“New Orleans history is rich with hauntings. Some of the spirits are here because of something left undone. Some feel compelled to remain and re-create the circumstances of their death until justice has been gained. Most spirits are playful, causing mischief. Especially those who died as children. There are rare accounts of spirits causing harm, but rest assured that you’ll all be safe tonight. The spirits know me, and they know we mean them no harm. That we mourn their passing, and that we’re here to remember.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” I whispered, starting to relax.
I felt something brush against my bare calf. I looked down, but there was nothing there. I shivered.
“You okay?” Brady asked.
“I thought I felt something.”
“Like what?”
“A cat maybe. A very, very soft cat. It was just a light touch.”
“Probably nothing.”
“Probably.”
But it hadn’t felt like nothing.
“Over here we have a mansion that reflects our city’s dark history,” Sara said.
We stopped in front of a large gray building as Sara told us about Delphine Lalaurie and her physician husband. Wealthy, they were known for their lavish parties until it was discovered that they were monsters, performing surgical experiments on their slaves.
“Within the manor,” Sara said, “there have been reported sightings of a man walking about carrying his head.”
A shudder went through me.
“Is that what she calls being playful?” I whispered.
Brady chuckled. Did I sound spooked? I thought I sounded spooked.
“And on foggy nights, you can hear the screams of those who were abused within those walls. They are still crying out for justice.”
Sara took us down Orleans Street, where on rainy nights the ghost of a priest who’d led a funeral procession to bury the remains of wrongly executed men could be heard singing.
Brady tightened his arms around me and rested his chin on my shoulder. I felt breath whisper across my neck. I told myself it was his. It had to be his.
“Thank goodness it’s not raining,” he said.
“Really.”
“Are you believing this stuff?” He sounded totally stunned.
I twisted my head around. He was grinning.
“Don’t you?” I asked.
“No. This is all bogus.”
Was it? I didn’t know anymore.
At 716 Dauphine Street, Sara told us about the ghost of a sultan who was murdered along with his wives and children and now haunted the four-story house.
“One of my favorite spirits remains here,” she said. “I’m fairly certain it’s one of the sultan’s children. It likes to tickle necks.”
I felt a light prickle over my neck. I hunched my shoulders and turned to Brady. “Don’t.”
“What?”
“I know you’re trying to scare me.”
“What are you talking about?”
What was I talking about? Because he was holding my hand, and no way he could have touched my neck without twisting around—and that I would have noticed.
Maybe it had been a moth or a mosquito. Some little insect of the night.
Every street she walked us along had tales of horrific murders—a man had killed his wife and the ghost of his wife had killed his mistress. What was that she’d said earlier about ghosts not causing harm?
Although the night was warm, I felt chilled. At one point, I thought I saw an apparition—a woman in a white nightgown—but it was gone so fast that I couldn’t be sure.
When we’d circled back around to Sara’s shop, she seemed really pleased with herself. Maybe because it looked like several people were pale. I probably was, too.
“In two weeks, John and I will take you on a vampire tour. He loves fresh blood! Sleep well,” she said, before whipping her cloak around her and walking off. It seemed as if she disappeared from sight sooner than she should have.
“Okay, that was creepy,” Jenna said.
“You mean the tour, or John liking fresh blood?” I asked.
“All of it. Sara was a little out there at the end.”
“I can’t see Ms. Wynder with a vampire,” I said.
She laughed. “Me either.”
I figured they’d laugh if I told them that I thought I’d felt something. So I kept quiet, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. New Orleans was definitely a city for those who believed in the supernatural. And even those who didn’t could have their skepticism challenged.
“Anyone hungry?” Tank asked.
I wasn’t, but I welcomed anything to take my mind off the tour.
We went to McDonald’s. Not very New Orleans-ish, but it was late and they were open. And the lights were bright—I suddenly had a love of bright lights—so there were no spooky things lurking about.
&nbs
p; And actually, once I bit into my burger, I realized that I was hungry. Very hungry. Apparently ghost hunting works up an appetite.
“I don’t know if I’m going to do the vampire tour,” Jenna said as she swirled a fry in the ketchup. “I mean, I don’t believe in vampires, but then I didn’t believe in ghosts either, but that was before tonight. I think I saw one.”
“Saw what?” Tank asked.
“A ghost.”
He laughed so loudly that several other late-night customers looked over at our table.
“I saw something, too,” I said, feeling a need to support Jenna. And okay. I had seen something.
“Probably just someone walking by,” Tank said.
“If they want to believe in ghosts, I’m down with that,” Brady said, scooting closer to me. “As a matter of fact, I’m not certain I want to sleep alone tonight.”
“You’re scared?” Tank asked.
Brady glared at him, and I laughed.
Then Tank widened his eyes. “Oh. Right. Right. Babe, if you’re scared—”
“I might be,” Jenna said, “but not if you’re going to make fun of me.”
They started talking low again, like Brady and I weren’t even there.
“Did you really see something?” Brady asked.
I shrugged, popped a fry into my mouth. “Maybe. I don’t know. Could be the power of suggestion. I definitely felt something. On my calf, on the back of my neck.”
“Me, too. On the back of my neck.”
“Really?”
“No. But if it’ll make you not want to sleep alone—”
I shoved playfully on his shoulder. “Get over it. That’s so not happening.”
We left McDonald’s and started walking toward Bourbon Street, as though it was a given that that’s where we wanted to end the night.
Since it was Saturday, Ms. Wynder had said she wouldn’t do a bed check until two, and I wondered if she’d even bother. What if things got hot and steamy between her and John?
Tank and Jenna were behind us. Brady turned, walking backward. “Hey, we’ll catch up with y’all later, at the hotel.”
Then he quickened his pace, pulling me along with him. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
The guy was nothing but surprises, which I liked. Because every surprise was better than the one that came before.
He brought me around a corner, where a horse and carriage were waiting. The driver wore a top hat, very high society.
“Do you go down to the Garden District?” Brady asked him.
“Yes, sir.”
“Hop in,” Brady said to me.
Once he paid the driver, and we were settled against the leather seats with Brady’s arm around me, I asked, “How did you know I wanted to do this?”
“It’s a chick thing. All girls want to do it.”
“Your sisters trained you right.”
He laughed. “Yeah, but don’t tell them that. I’ll never hear the end of it.”
And I wondered if I’d ever meet his sisters. It didn’t seem likely. I mean, why would they come here? And in a few weeks, Brady and I would go our separate ways.
He wound his finger around my beaded necklace. “So, are you planning to get more of these tonight?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Yeah. That’s what I figured. So I didn’t think Bourbon Street would be that much fun.”
“Watching you get beads is fun.”
“Yeah, but we should take turns.”
That sounded like such a couple thing to say.
“I really had fun today,” I said.
“Yeah, me, too.”
I nestled my head against his shoulder.
“So tell me about your breakup,” he said quietly.
I eased away from him a little and met his gaze. “What does it matter?”
He tucked my hair behind my ear. “I like you, Dawn. I think this guy, whoever he is, is still messing with you.”
I looked at the driver. His back was to us. He wasn’t paying any attention. And we were talking low. I sighed. “Drew. His name is Drew and he—” I shook my head.
“He what?”
It hurt to think about it, hurt even more to say it. “He cheated on me.”
“Okay.”
“Okay? That’s all? Aren’t you going to tell me that he’s a jerk?”
“You already know that.”
Yeah, I knew that, but I still found some comfort in hearing it. And while I was usually okay with his single okay, right now I wanted more.
“What you need to understand,” he said quietly, “is that I’m not him.”
Then, with his hand cradling my cheek and his thumb stroking near the corner of my mouth, he leaned in and kissed me. Something about the kiss seemed different. Like all the others had been for fun, but this one was meant to be more.
It was kind of scary, but at the same time, I realized that it was something that I wanted.
I felt like I had on the ghost tour. Doubting what I was feeling. Wondering if it was real.
Or would it—like an apparition—disappear, and leave me wondering if it had truly ever been there?
Chapter 17
It wasn’t until Jenna and I were back in our dorm room—with thirty seconds to spare before the two o’clock curfew—and I was getting ready for bed that I remembered the necklace I’d put in my pocket for safekeeping.
I sat on the edge of the bed and looked at it again. It was really pretty. I wished I’d bought one for myself. Next week, I would. I was sure the vendor would still be there.
“What’s that?” Jenna asked.
“Oh, a necklace Brady bought for his sister.”
“He buys things for his sister? Wow. My brother doesn’t know the first thing about buying me something.”
“I helped him pick it out.” Saying that sounded weird. Like maybe we were shopping for something much more important.
“I’m really glad you’re hanging out with him,” Jenna said.
“Only because it means he’s not hanging out with Tank all the time, and you have some time alone.”
“Well, there is that. I’m so crazy about Tank, Dawn. It’s scary sometimes.”
“Tell me about it.”
“But it’s exciting, too. It’s everything.” She sat in the middle of her bed and brought her legs up beneath her. “Did you feel that way about Drew?”
Did I? Gosh, it was suddenly hard to remember. All I could remember now was being hurt and angry at him. Like that moment of seeing him with someone else had totally destroyed any good feelings I’d ever had for him. Had I been scared when he asked me out? Nervous? Excited?
“I can’t remember, Jenna. That’s so weird.”
“You know, sometimes I think about what Sara said about you rebuilding. I thought she was talking about New Orleans. But what if she was talking about your heart?”
“She didn’t know my heart needed rebuilding.”
“She doesn’t need to know stuff. She just sees things. She said you had to be careful with the tools. I thought she meant hammers and saws. What if she meant Brady?”
I flopped back on the bed. “You’re really giving too much thought to all this.”
“It’s the puzzle solver in me. I can’t help it.”
I rolled my head to the side and looked at her. “She said I could get hurt. If I wasn’t careful. Jenna, I don’t think I’ve been careful. I think I’ve fallen for him.”
“That’s a good thing, Dawn. It means you’re over Drew.”
“No, it means I’ve set myself up to be hurt again. We agreed this was a Big Easy–only relationship.”
“So, change the terms of your agreement.”
“What if he doesn’t want to?”
She sighed. “Do you have to doubt everything?”
I sat up. “Me? Doubting? You’re the one trying to figure everything out, trying to solve the puzzles, wanting all the a
nswers.”
She came off the bed. “Well, I’ve never been in love before, and I don’t know if I like it. I thought having a boyfriend would stop all the questions, but there’s just more of them.”
I smiled. “Yeah, it’s a bummer, isn’t it?”
“The future is just so”—she threw her hands up—“vague. There are just so many possibilities.”
“And going to see a psychic sure doesn’t help.”
“No, it doesn’t.” She sat back down on the bed. “So what are we going to do?”
“You think I know?”
Laughing, she shook her head. “No, actually, I think you’re probably more confused than I am.”
“Well, thanks a lot.”
Her cell phone rang and we both jumped. Then mine rang.
“Time for good-night calls,” she said.
Okay, I guessed tonight we’d moved to a new level. I mean, we’d spoken that one night before I went to bed, but it had been on Jenna’s phone, so it didn’t really count. Oh, heck, maybe it did.
I answered, “Hey.”
“Did I wake you?”
“No.” I stretched out, rolled onto my side, and my knee touched the sack the necklace had been in. “I forgot to give you your sister’s necklace.”
“It’s yours.”
My brow furrowed. “What? No, I’m not talking about the beads, I’m talking about—”
“The fleur-de-lis.”
“Yeah.”
“I bought it for you. Why do you think I let you pick it out?”
“But you said it was for her.”
“I thought you’d go all weird on me if I bought you something.”
“Weird?” I said, offended. “I don’t go weird.”
“You go weird. You worry about what I really feel or what you really feel or what we’re thinking. You’re expecting me to hurt you, and I don’t know how to make you stop expecting that.”
I wrapped my hand around the charm. “I’m a mess. I don’t know why you hang out with me.”
“I hang out with you because I like you. You’re funny and fun and you believe in ghosts—”
“I don’t believe in ghosts. I just had some weird stuff happen tonight.”