Chapter 16

Evie

Garden District, New Orleans, Louisiana

T he instant Cole left the house, it felt like Evie could think clearly for the first time since he had taken her. Without doing anything in particular besides existing, he somehow managed to absorb all the air in the room, make her feel like she couldn’t breathe. Gorgeous, overwhelming man.

Also. What did he mean by “the rest of our immortal fucking lives?” Evie chewed on her thumbnail as she wandered around the kitchen, opening and closing cupboard doors absently while she considered everything Cole had said since they met. Witches weren’t necessarily mortal, but they weren’t immortal by any stretch of the imagination. And she didn’t know the average lifespan of the “reincarnated god Hades,” either, an idea that still made her snort. She briefly wondered whether he might be a lunatic human before shrugging it off. She had felt his magic, could feel it even now without him in the house. So, while the idea of Cole being a god was absurd, he was still a magical being who she would hazard a guess, based on his laugh lines, aged at a fairly human rate too. So what was he talking about with that oblique reference to immortality ?

Evie pursed her lips. She hated not knowing things, and, in the last day, it seemed like that was all she was doing. Nothing made sense, and, with every minute she spent in this house, she became more confused than ever. Nodding sternly to herself, she turned away from the garden towards one of the two entrances to the kitchen. Time to snoop so she could try and get some answers. Which meant she was here for longer, a choice she was surprisingly okay with. For all her anger about him abducting her, she didn’t actually want to leave. Setting aside that she wasn’t wholly certain how to get back home, she liked Cole. He was funny and sexy and sweet. In the hours she had spent with him, she’d felt more than she had in her entire relationship with Marie. More passion, more amusement, more frustration, just more… everything. Not to mention her lifelong knowledge of him, which made that bond seem more real. It would be difficult to throw that away over a little thing like an abduction. And if he was serious about her not being a prisoner here? She found it difficult to imagine that she would want to leave.

She rolled her eyes at herself as she swept out of the kitchen into the room bordering it. There was forgiving and then there was delusional and, while she couldn’t be sure, she would guess that ignoring an abduction fell more towards the delusional side of the spectrum. Ah, well. She hadn’t really ever done things the normal way. Why should a seemingly fated connection be any different?

The kitchen opened into a room with a large, elegant black wooded table centered under an ornate chandelier. The dining room, she assumed. Although the coven didn’t ascribe to human housing structures, their education extended to everything under the sun, which included, among many other subjects, anatomy, formal eating techniques, advanced mathematics, chemistry, and astronomy as well as lessons about their history—what little they could recall or was recorded of it following the witch purges in the 1940s—training them on understand their source of power, and how to use and control their magic. The absence of a true working day, which she understood to be standard in the human world, meant that much of their day was open for them to learn and explore.

Evie skirted the corner of the dining room and walked out through the open doorway, which led her into the entryway where she found the stairs Cole had carried her down that morning. Although the rooms she’d seen on the first floor were beautifully designed, she hadn't noticed anything that looked like his personal papers or books, if he even kept such things. She knew that the humans had… digitized, she thought may be the correct term, and used electronics instead of paper nowadays. That morning, Cole had even received a call on such a device before he set it on fire.

Her face flushed at the memory, and she almost tripped up the stairs. He had stripped her of all her boundaries—and her clothing—this morning. In addition to feeling exposed after sharing a lifetime of her experiences with his voice and eyes before they ever met in person, she was completely overwhelmed by how sensual his magic felt against her skin, how open he was about her taste and what he wanted to do to her, how incredible his long fingers and demanding lips were as they dominated her body. She fanned herself as she came to the second-floor landing. In no world could she have imagined a person quite like Cole, much less one who seemed so well suited to her sexually.

There was a bedroom directly across from the stairs. To her right was the room where she and Cole had spent most of the morning. Decided, she took a left down the hallway where she found another bedroom on the right. But, through the partially open door of the room to her left, she saw a desk. That may mean information.

She slipped through the open door into an elegantly decorated room. Her feet carried her across the wood floor and onto a thick rug in shades of purple ranging from a lavender so light it was almost white to a violet so deep it was practically black. The walls surrounding her were painted a striking stormy grey with violet overtones. Around the room were captivating paintings of a faceless, curvy woman with tangled curls. Evie tilted her head as she considered the portraits. The woman’s shape and hair style mimicked her own fairly closely, but it was probably arrogant to assume it was her. Just because Cole admitted he had dreamed about her for years didn’t mean that he would decorate his home office with figures that looked like her. At least that was her thinking until her gaze found the final painting sitting directly across from the desk. In all of the others, the subject was depicted in black and white with either the woman’s face obscured or the composition of the painting placing her face out of frame.

However, the painting across from Cole’s desk was brilliantly colored with the woman fully in frame. Unlike the others, which looked like her but could conceivably be anyone with a similar shape, this portrait was clearly Evie. She was nude, surrounded by trees sunk in shadows. A breeze appeared to sweep her auburn curls behind her, but a delicate tiara circling her forehead kept them from growing too wild. Her body bore more tattoos than Evie’s currently held, and her eyes blazed a blue so vibrant that it dulled even the other colors in the painting. Standing behind her, a suited man with Cole’s coloring watched her closely, one hand wrapped possessively around her waist.

Holy Hecate . This was… unexpected. It was one thing to hear that he had dreamed of her his whole life. It was completely different to see the evidence of that right in front of her, prominently displayed in his home office where he would see it any time he sat at his desk. On the one hand, it seemed like they were destined to meet. On the other, it was intimidating to know that he cared so deeply for her before he ever met her that he had commissioned a painting he could look at any time he was in this room. Unsure of her feelings and unwilling to unpack them, she crossed to his desk.

It was a massive L-shaped wooden behemoth with more drawers than she could fathom anyone needing. The top was clear of any paperwork, although she was pretty sure the slim rectangular glass box was a monitor of some sort. She touched it reverently, sliding her fingers down the long sides and across the sharp edges, awed by the craftsmanship, before she lowered her sights to the rest of the desk. Even before she touched it, she could feel Cole’s carefully drawn wards sealing them tight against unauthorized intruders.

Evie channeled a burst of power at the wards to light them up so she could figure out how to break them. If she manipulated them the wrong way, it would probably alert Cole. Glancing at the symbols revealed by her magic, she slowly traced her fingers across the drawer front, drawing the counter rune that would naturally break Cole's defense. Careful spell work like this was often difficult during the day for her because the moon—her source—was below the horizon. Today, though, her power came readily, pouring easily from her with a radiant blue hue that matched the color of Cole’s magic. Odd that it wasn't the usual gold color she associated with her own magic.

She shrugged dismissively as his wards disappeared, giving her access to the room's secrets. Carefully, she began the process of investigating, starting with his desk. While the top of it was neat, the drawers were decidedly not. The very first one she opened was stuffed full of envelopes addressed to Cole—some opened but most not—and a truly alarming amount of mints in all shapes and colors. The next two revealed no less than eight notebooks, tiny notepads with sticky backs in an array of bright colors, and a plethora of clamps and clips ranging in shape and size. One drawer was filled with financial information, which revealed that Cole was more than well off, and a will leaving all of his assets to someone named Charles Aidoneus. Bizarrely, she felt inexplicably relieved that he left everything to a person she assumed was a relative rather than a spouse or significant other. She slammed the drawer shut a bit harder than necessary in an attempt to ignore what that sense of relief meant about her feelings for Cole. The last drawer was just sealed snacks, including pretzels and chips and a bag of something called Jolly Ranchers. Evie scowled as she closed it. This was all interesting information about the man himself but nothing that gave her any insight into his immortal life comment.

She blew a strand of hair out of her face and rocked back on to her heels. This may have been a waste of time. She considered that possibility, chewing on her lip and drumming her fingertips against the top of her thighs. Maybe it was just a saying? Maybe it didn’t actually mean anything. Always possible. With a shrug, Evie pressed her palms against her legs, starting to shift her weight to stand up—maybe she would go spend time with the plants outside, including the oldest tree, the branch for which was enthusiastically tapping on the window of Cole’s office in a bid for her attention—when she noticed the edge of an envelope sticking out from a small-lipped drawer in the desk above his chair seat. She didn’t remember opening that one; it would have been all too easy to miss given how narrow it was.

Evie wiggled at the drawer, popping it out easily. The envelope, larger than she had expected, sat unevenly atop the drawer’s debris. A small laugh escaped her at this one last example of how messy Cole actually was as she pulled out the envelope. It was large and beige with Cole’s name scrawled in almost illegible script across the front. Evie flipped the envelope over, sliding her finger under the flap to open it before removing the folder tucked inside. Even if this wasn’t anything informative, it was still enjoyable to open all the different layers.

Standing, she rested her hip against desk, opening the folder as she did so. Inside sat a thick stack of papers, topped by a sheet that read “Evangeline Dyeus” with a picture of a toddler and biographical information. She flipped to the next page in confusion. News clippings about the trial of a Desmond Dyeus, charged with the murder of his wife. Behind those documents was a news article about Desmond and his deceased wife’s missing toddler. A report describing the circumstances of the missing daughter. Amidst the ramblings, one phrase popped out at her: “child last seen with the mother, Luanne Dyeus, outside the Jean Lafitte National Historical Park and Preserve, specifically by a stretch of road near the Barataria Preserve Visitor Center.”

Evie froze, blinking in surprise, before her fingers started moving, flipping quickly to the first page detailing Evangeline Dyeus’ biographic information. Scanning quickly, she filtered past full name, sex, birth location before lighting on birthdate. February 01, 1989. The coven didn’t observe birthdays, and Evie herself typically tracked time by the moon and seasons, but she knew that she was older than many of her sisters. She scanned the rest of the information on the page, much of which didn’t provide anything interesting, before coming to identifying features. Eye color: grey. Hair color: red. Distinct marks: a birthmark shaped like a skull on the inside of her upper left thigh.

A high-pitched keening filled the room. It took Evie several seconds to realize that it was her. All of the other coincidences like eye color and hair—even the last known location—could be explained away. That birthmark, though… she looked down at her nude thigh where the small, skull-shaped birthmark sat. She threw the folder away from her in panic. It landed on the desk, the papers inside ruffled but still contained.

That meant she was… she had to be this missing little girl. Her mother was dead. Her father imprisoned. Her breath raced from her lips, uneven and unsteady, and she wobbled, only just catching herself on the corner of Cole’s desk before she fell to the floor. Assuming all of this was true, it meant her whole life was a lie. That her sisters… her family… that they had taken her from her parents, one of whom was prepared to abandon her and the other one capable of committing murder. Evie’s heart was racing, and black dots were sparkling across her vision. Why would the elders lie to her? Had they stolen her? A horrifying realization occurred to her: what if the coven was responsible for her mother's murder?

Evie’s back straightened as rage pulsed through her veins. She deserved the truth, the whole damn story, directly from their mouths, and they would share it with her whether they wanted to or not. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw blue fire. Her gaze shifted down to where her hands clenched the edge of the desk. Vibrant blue magic sparked around her fingers. Was this just another thing that the elders had hidden from her? A separate magic source? A scowl spread across her face. She had to get back to the forest. Now. The coven elders owed her an explanation.

Spinning on her heel, Evie sprinted out of Cole’s office to the bedroom where they had slept. She stormed past the bed, the sheets still tangled from that morning, and into Cole’s closet where she snatched one of his shirts from a hanger and threw it on as she tore down the stairs. As she came to the front door, she slowed, remembering the wards he drew before he left the house just as the electric pulse of them hummed against her skin. She probed at them and cursed. These were significantly more advanced than the ones he placed on his desk.

Closing her eyes, she pushed her power outward, doing another sweep of the magic binding the house. A sigh slipped past her lips. He had specifically sealed his wards against all sources of magic, but… she paused, feeling a slight weakness. She probed at it, pressing against the fault in the protections, feeling for what was missing. Like lightning, it finally came to her. Cole hadn’t sealed against death magic. Without a defense against it, death magic could unravel his protective measures.

Evie glanced down at her hand. Minutes ago, it had been licked with blue fire. And upstairs, her spell work had radiated the same blue as Cole’s. Maybe she could get through these wards using that same anomaly? Wincing nervously, she sent a small pulse of magic at the wards surrounding the front door. Her hands glowed that brilliant blue, and she saw through the world like it was shrouded in cobalt cloth. All the same color as the magic sealing the house. Channeling her magic carefully into what looked like a standard lock-and-key mechanism, she slowly unsealed the house, hearing her pulse beat in her ears with every second that went by.

After what felt like an eternity, the door went dark. No wards illuminated it, just sunlight glinting in through the glass windows lining the front of the house. Evie grasped the doorknob and felt no magic. For a second, she considered waiting for Cole to get home so he could go with her but dismissed the thought just as quickly as it arose. This was her discovery, her confrontation. If her entire life was going to be laid bare in front of her, she needed to find that out on her own. She had apparently waited over 30 years to have this discussion if the biographical sheet was to be believed.

More importantly, though, Evie had no idea why Cole had that folder of information about her. Had he been stalking her? What was he to her? Who was he to her? No. She shook her head. It was too dangerous to wait for a man whose role in her life she didn’t understand, who had started their physical relationship by abducting her from her home.

She slipped out the door silently, closing it tightly behind her. When they arrived at Cole’s house in the early morning, the street had been pitch black, barely illuminated by the street lamps lining the street like iron guards. She had felt death all around them but didn’t know where it came from. Now, in the midday sunlight, she saw the quiet street and houses surrounding her but also the sprawling cemetery directly across from the road.

There was no way to stop her feet from carrying her across the road to the cemetery. It almost felt like a compulsion, something Evie couldn’t explain drawing her to this vast city for the dead. She reached out a hand to tug at the lock on the gate, but it just tapped against the metal barrier, a discordant note in the quiet. Since she wasn't getting past the locked gates easily, she simply looked in through the bars, taking in the uneven rows of deteriorating slate headstones, tilting drunkenly, surrounded by limestone monoliths and marble mausoleums.

Just being this close to the cemetery, she could feel the dead. Could feel magic coursing through her at the abundance of death just feet away from her; it felt like her body was on fire. There was so much magic. Besides when she had reconstituted an entire section of the forest with no knowledge that she was doing so, she had never felt this much magic flowing through her veins.

As much as she wanted to explore the cemetery and the magic pouring from her body, first, she needed to get home… no. To the coven. She needed to confront them about her life, her very existence. Evie pushed away from the cemetery gates, her heart aching as she backed away from the death that surrounded her like a warm blanket, her body almost cold as she turned towards the street.

Across the road, in the massive white stone house that sat next to Cole’s, curtains twitched behind the doors leading to the second-floor balcony, and, for a split second, the sun illuminated a tall person standing behind the curtain. Evie squinted, trying to get a better look, but before she could see more, the shadow disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Shaking her head, she dropped her gaze back to street level, trying to figure out which direction she should go.

Loud noises sounded just up the road from her, so she began walking towards the sounds, one eye still on the house next to Cole’s in case the person watching her came out of the house. Her bare feet padded along the cool concrete of the sidewalk, the jagged concrete and stone rubbing along the callused edges of her feet. Although she was used to the feeling of running barefoot through the forest, it was almost painful to walk through the city without shoes. A car rumbled past her, loud music shaking its windows, as she dodged broken shards of glass and other trash. After another twenty feet, she finally came upon the street that she and Cole drove down that morning. Cars raced past her, sending up plumes of dirt and smoke. People bustled around her, but she paid them no mind.

Cole had driven them to his home. While she had been too disoriented from the night’s events to track their journey, she still knew that a substantial amount of time had passed between when they left the preserve and when they arrived at his house. She sighed. Walking was an option, but she was barefoot and only wearing a man’s shirt. Albeit a man’s shirt that came down to her knees, but, given the looks she was seeing the people around her—mostly men but some women too—level at her chest, it seemed like it may be a problem. She sighed.

“Excuse me?” A voice called from her left. “Excuse me, miss?”

She turned to see a tall, elderly man wearing a black shirt with a white collar ringing the neckline staring at her. “Yes?” she asked.

“ Cher , if you don’t mind me sayin’, you look a bit lost.” He leaned down towards her. “Can I help you with somethin'?”

She looked up at him. She didn’t know him, but… maybe he could help. Would it be foolish to ask this man for assistance? She had read stories of men taking women, hurting lost souls. But she needed assistance and, while it could be dangerous to ask for help, it was probably more dangerous to stand here in a man’s shirt and nothing else. “I need to get home, and I don’t have a car or a—” What did humans call those damn devices they used to call one another? Mobiles? Telemobiles? Phones? “—I don’t have a way to call anyone.” There. That was a nice, neat way to say that without acknowledging that she had no idea what the device used to call someone was.

“Well,” the man said, guiding her across the street to a large white building with a large wooden cross gracing the front. A church , her mind supplied. “That’s an easy one. I can call you an Uber that will take you where you need to go.” At her surprised blink, he continued, “I’ll call one right now, and we can just wait here for it to pick you up. Where do you need to go?”

Evie stared at him in disbelief until he nudged her elbow with his hand, a small device that looked like the one Cole had incinerated held in his hand. “Where are you going, cher ?”

“The Barataria Preserve, please,” she replied. It couldn’t really be that easy for her to get back home, could it?

The man typed quickly on his device and gestured for her to sit down on the bench in front of the church. “John should be here in five minutes,” he chuckled, displaying his device to her. There was a map and the name John.

“That’s good,” she commented slowly. Should she know who John was? “Is he a friend of yours?”

The man raised his attention from the phone screen. “No, he’s just an Uber driver.” Piercing golden-brown eyes settled on her face. “Where did you say you were from again, darlin’?” His voice sounded deeper than it had before.

Evie’s skin prickled, a sense of wrongness settling over her. “I, uh, I didn’t.” She shifted slightly away from him, pulling Cole’s shirt tighter around herself. The movement loosed some of that smoky mint scent unique to Cole, the smell comforting her even as the man stared at her with that unsettling gaze.

“What was—” His words were cut off as a sleek blue car pulled to the curb, and the driver shouted out the open window, “You my fare to the preserve?”

Evie popped up from the bench and practically threw herself into the back of the car, barely considering the danger of getting into a vehicle with someone she didn’t know. All she knew was that she wanted away from the man, who had followed her to the car, his gaze still narrowed on her.

“You be safe now, darlin’,” the man commented dryly, closing the door behind her once she was fully seated. “Can’t have a magical thing like you in danger, can we?”

Pursing her lips, she nodded uneasily. “Of course,” she responded through the open window. “Thank you for your help.” Her voice faltered as the car whisked her away to confront her coven, those golden-brown eyes not leaving hers until the car turned a corner, and the old man was lost.