CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

"Grab your gear," said Gaspar, yelling above the engines of the jet.

Evie shut them down, and he nodded a thanks to her. The winds were picking up, rain coming down on them. They'd found a clearing on the beach to land the Osprey, providing a safe place to land and to hide her beneath the stealth netting.

"Gaspar! Harbormaster says that a man came in this morning and paid for seven men to sail with him to this island. They left about two hours ago," said Evie.

"Thanks. We'll be ready. I'm gonna leave Baptiste with you, just in case." She nodded, knowing that Baptiste would much rather be on the hunt with the other men. Turning toward him, she smirked.

"I don't need you to stay, handsome. You can go with them."

"Are you kidding me? I get to stay in here with a beautiful woman and stay warm and dry. No can do, gorgeous. I'm staying where big brother told me to stay." He gave a wink and a smile, and Evie laughed.

All of the men were sweet, but there was something about Baptiste that always made Evie smile. He looked like his brothers. Acted like his brothers. Even spoke like his brothers. But there was a mischief about him that she identified with.

"We'll keep you appraised through comms," said Nine. "If I tell you to go, Evie. You get the fuck out of here. You hear me?"

"I hear you, but it doesn't mean I'll listen." Nine growled at her. "You can growl all you want, you big handsome devil, but I'm not leaving an entire team on an island with a madman. Do your thing, and I'll do mine. Don't tell me what to do with my bird."

"Woman, you're going to make me crazy."

"Probably. But I'll bring you home alive," she smiled.

"Did they leave? Did they leave yet?" cried Amy, running into the conference room.

"Yeah, honey," said Code. "They left early this morning. They're already on the island. What's wrong?"

"I know what happened. I know what happened with Couvillion and how he ended up like he is. We need another chopper."

"Nope," said Code, shaking his head. "You are not leaving here."

"Not her, baby. Me."

"GPS has the sailboat finally docking on the southeast side," said Whiskey. "This guy is seriously inept with a ship. He was fighting the weather, the winds, the water, everything the wrong way. I'm a fucking Marine, and I know that."

"Good. He'll be tired, and so will the crew when they arrive. The unknown is still what kind of powers Couvillion has, if any." Nine frowned at the others, realizing they had only a few minutes to ensure that they had the upper hand. The Robicheaux brothers would wait for the crew, taking them from behind one by one.

The rain was providing excellent coverage for them, ensuring that visibility was almost nothing. With the dummy stone in place in the middle of the grouping of trees, they waited for Couvillion to take the bait.

"Ready?" whispered Gaspar to his relative.

"I've been ready for two hundred years, Gaspar. I should think I'd be ready today. If anything should happen," he started.

"It won't. Nothing will happen," said Gaspar.

"If it should, take care of Amy and the boys. Don't let her remarry anyone terrible," he frowned. Gaspar gave a low chuckle, shaking his head.

"Nothing will happen, Marcel. But if it did, I would make sure Amy was taken care of. I'd treat her as my daughter."

"Set up in the trees, there and there," said Nine. "Marcel, you're going to need to stay out of sight for now."

They could hear Couvillion yelling at the men to pick up the pace, cursing at them to keep moving forward.

"How much farther?" asked one of the men in the distance.

"It doesn't matter! Move," he yelled. When he heard nothing else, he was relieved, thinking that the men were finally following his orders. Stepping into the grove of trees, he spotted the large rock formation and practically cheered aloud.

"It's here! It's here!" he finally yelled. But when no one responded, he turned in all directions, seeing that no one was behind him. "Cowards! You're all cowards!"

Stumbling through the thick foliage and mud, he reached the rock, rubbing the hard surface. He couldn't find an opening on it, nor could he see any markings as the letter had indicated.

"It's here. I know it's here," he muttered.

"Looking for something, Jacques?"

He turned so rapidly he lost his footing, his pistol falling into the mud. He crawled on hands and knees trying to find it, then finally just gave up, standing to face his nemesis.

"How are you here?" he asked.

"I should ask you the same question," said Marcel. "Except I know the answer in your case. You hired a witch to create a spell that would allow you to reincarnate until your work was done."

"That's right," he smiled. "So, kill me. Kill me, and I'll just come back to life to haunt you."

"No. I think we know how to stop this," said Marcel.

The sky suddenly darkened, a canopy of black above them as the rains became louder. Except it wasn't a canopy of darkness. It was the canopy of a parachute, and the jumper fell directly on the body of Jacques Couvillion.

"Woohee, that was fun!"

"Get off me, you cow!" yelled Couvillion.

"Cow? Boy, you best watch your tone," said Ruby. She grabbed the necklace around his throat and pulled it off, stepping back from his body with it securely in her hand.

"Give me that! Give me the fucking necklace, old woman, or I'll kill you!"

"Kill me? Boy, a ninety-year-old woman just landed on you, jumping from a moving plane. I doubt you can kill me." She nodded at the others, smiling. "Hey, boys. That was somethin' else. I shoulda done that years ago."

"Um, Ruby, why are you here?" asked Gaspar.

"Well, now. See, his beautiful wife was doin' some research on Couvillion here. He's a sad case. A sad boy."

"Shut up," he snapped, then gasped for air as a massive hand closed around his throat.

"You'd best be using your manners around Miss Ruby," said Tailor. "She's like a mama to me, and I don't take kindly to rudeness."

"Thank you, baby. Make sure he can breathe. I need him to hear this before you kill him." She cleared her throat, straightening the jumpsuit as she unhooked the parachute. "Alright, where was I? Oh, yes. You murdering piece of shit. Our beautiful Amy found out you were an orphan. Sold by your daddy as a cabin boy on a ship ‘cause he was dyin'."

"He wasn't dying! He was a coward and unfit to raise a son."

"He was dyin', boy. I said don't interrupt me again." Couvillion seemed silenced by the woman's words, and the others just stared at her. "Now, I ‘spect you didn't have a good life on that ship, but that don't give you the right to lie, cheat, steal, rape, and kill. You did your fill of it, that's for sure.

"When you couldn't best our man, Marcel, you sought help from a witch. She was a witch on a plantation not far from Belle Fleur, in fact. She'd brought her old-school abilities from Africa and knew how to mix a powerful potion. And she did. Placing it in this necklace. She used her own hair to braid the rope holding it around your neck."

"It can't be broken," grinned Couvillion. "I was assured by the witch."

"You didn't listen, boy," snarled Ruby. "It can't be broken except by her own hands. I am her great-great-great-great granddaughter, and through my hands she lives." She held the necklace above her head and pulled, snapping it in two.

"No! No, she promised!" he cried.

"You will never come alive again, Jacques Couvillion. You are dead by my hand for killin' my ancestor. You are nothin' but a man. Flesh and blood."

"His magic is done?" asked Marcel.

"It's done, baby. Kill the man, and let's get home. I need to get back to my Sven and explain how exciting that jump was. I got some ideas for the bedroom."

"She's mad. She's completely crazy!" said Couvillion.

"Perhaps," said Marcel, "but you will not haunt me or my family any longer."

"Just let me see the jewels. Please! I've come all this way. Let me see them," he begged.

"Even if I could, I would not. The jewels are on their way back to Spain as a gift from the Robicheaux family."

Couvillion howled as if in pain, attempting to run. He found himself surrounded at every turn by men who looked identical to Marcel or were identical in size. He was the one going mad. When he turned to charge Marcel, the man was ready, ramming his fist into his nose.

Cartilage and bone cracked, leaving him in agony as he fell to the jungle floor. From his waist, he pulled his dagger. The pistol was nice, but it was loud. He was going to use the dagger his father had given him to kill the man who had plagued their family for centuries.

"I hope you meet the witch in the afterlife, Couvillion. You deserve what she delivers."

"Miss Ruby, I heard you got dropped in by Chipper," smiled Evie as the old woman climbed aboard the chopper. "Did you have a good ride?"

"Oh, one of the best ever," she laughed.

"Crazy-ass woman was supposed to tandem jump with me," frowned Nate. "Had her all ready to go, and she jumped before I could attach her harness."

"I needed to do it on my own, baby. All that fallin' gave me some perspective and a chance to get right with my ancestor."

"So, the witch was truly your ancestor?" asked Marcel.

"She was, honey. He paid her a handsome sum to cast the spell, and then he killed her. Thought he'd gotten away with it, but her son saw it all. He was just a boy, and nobody was worried about what a little black boy saw, but he wrote it down."

"Our lives are all connected," smiled the man. "We're all truly connected. Do you think Matthew and Irene knew that when they met you?"

"Well, now, I can't say they did, can't say they didn't. We just connected."

The men burst into laughter, shaking their heads at the old woman. They were doomed to never get a good answer out of any of the elders at this point.

"You know what," laughed Marcel. "I don't care. I'm alive, I'm married to the woman of my dreams, and I'm going to be a father. Let's go home." Gaspar nodded at the man, then turned to the cockpit.

"Let's go home, Evie."