Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Paolo tapped at the window. “Pretty.”
“Very pretty.”
“I want.”
“You want to see it?”
Paolo bobbed his head. “Yes.”
“When I have time, I will take you around.”
Paolo’s face brightened with excitement, and I swore my soul lit up too. I made a mental note to make sure Paolo and I spent time out in New Orleans together.
Pavel. . .can you see this?
The SUV purred smoothly along the asphalt, leaving the echoes of the city behind.
Then, gradually, the urban scenery gave way to the outskirts.
Even more intrigued, Paolo leaned his head toward the window. His gaze darted here and there.
How far is Delphine from the city?
We crossed over onto a big highway.
She must be out in the swamps.
The scenery shifted dramatically. Fields of sugar cane, green and gold in the midday sun, reached out as far as the eye could see.
We passed small, weathered houses, some adorned with crawfish nets and rusty bikes. This was certainly a much slower-paced way of life than our day-to-day in Moscow.
And how is my mouse and son?
I turned to the love of my life. Emilio slept in her arms with his mouth open. Although passed out, he nuzzled against her breasts as if still yearning for the comfort of her milk.
Sorry, son. You have your wet nurses. That milk is now mine.
I placed my view on her face.
Worry decorated every inch. She seemed to be looking out at the landscape rushing by us, yet I had been around her long enough to know that her mind was somewhere else.
Dread sparked at my core.
Loving her had shown me that in many ways I was powerless. Right now, I yearned to kill the problem keeping her mind scattered.
But it wasn’t a man or thing that I could physically destroy.
It was inside of her.
It was pain.
Her trauma.
And as much as I wanted to take it all from Emily myself, she would have to be the one to truly get rid of it.
Will this help her?
Suddenly, the SUV pulled onto a narrow, gravel road.
On one side of the road a deep, green sea stretched out before us. It was a mess of moss-caked cypress trees and mud.
“Ooo.” Paolo tapped the window. “Ocean.”
I turned back to him. “No. That is a swamp.”
He blinked. “Swamp.”
Tall cypress trees adorned with drapes of Spanish moss stood like stoic guardians of this mysterious wilderness.
We must be close.
Terror washed through me.
I considered what Jean-Pierre had told me about Delphine.
Apparently, she was born into a long line of voodoo practitioners. When she was a kid, she was taken from her mother and raised by her grandmother.
Something about a kid dying in her class.
Once her grandmother passed, Delphine inherited her grandmother’s house and began providing voodoo services to many. Over time, her reputation grew, and she was now the most sought-after figure in the New Orleans criminal underworld.
In fact, he had added that many nicknamed Delphine the Bayou Banshee. However, people didn’t say that to her face.
I frowned.
That nickname triggered a shiver.
Jean-Pierre’s words sounded in my head.
“People claim that she has extraordinary power, and one of those things is to create haunting, otherworldly sounds that can disorient and strike fear into the hearts of her enemies.”
But, how much of that was bullshit?
I hoped bringing my family here was the right thing to do. Yet, this talk of voodoo and other world power shoved me on edge.
I dealt in the world of guns, death, and explosions.
That was my reality.
Of course, I knew that our reality held more things beyond what I could see. It was why I always consulted Baba.
Any logical person could admit that magic was melded within nature. Every day, the sun rose and set in a show of colors and light. Was that not magic?
The Earth rotated, and we all simply accepted it as reality, not supernatural. But, the deep-thinkers knew that our very reality was all supernatural.
Flowers bloomed.
Caterpillars metamorphosed into butterflies.
All magical.
Was the moon not a supernatural being?
Or even our flying in the plane to get here, a clear example of magic.
Sure, scientists attached grand words like gravity, biology, and physics to explain such things, but in the end, there was still that out-of-this world component.
Who created gravity and put it here?
What was before physics and biology?
What was before us and this planet?
Even if I turned to Christianity, there were certainly accounts of supernatural events.
Jesus performed many miracles—turning water into wine, walking on water, healing the sick, and resurrecting the dead.
These events were described as miracles—acts of divine intervention—rather than magic.
However, one could argue that the distinction between a miracle and magic was largely a matter of perspective and interpretation.
In fact, if we took a step back and redefined what magic truly meant, we all might find that it permeated our daily lives more than we ever imagined.
Can magic occur with my mouse?
I looked back at Emily.
Her face was still blank, her eyes staring out into the swamp.