Page 48 of Undo Me

“All lovely choices,” she mumbled, trudging through the Quarter, trying to build up her nerve.

There’d been no question in her mind that she would do it. For Isabel, who’d loved him helplessly, trapped by her own innocence and the times she lived in. For herself, for the chance to tell him what she hadn’t. That the person she was now, with no illusions about who he was or what he’d done, was in love with him. And damn it, she absolutely refused to go the rest of her life without letting him know.

She turned a corner and stopped abruptly, looking behind her and back down at her map. There shouldn’t be a cemetery on this street, but she was looking directly at it.

The map fluttered in the sudden breeze and she folded it up, slipping it in her pocket and holding her hand open at her side. “Take my hand, Emmanuel. Don’t be afraid.”

She felt her palm cool and smiled. Somehow, she felt better with him at her side. Isabel had loved her little brother as though he were her own child. It was one of the reasons she’d stayed so long with her father. She’d wanted to take him with them when she and Marcel ran away, but instead he’d died trying to protect her. He hadn’t deserved his fate. None of them had.

The wrought-iron gate began to open on its own. There were sparks flying off it, strange lights hovering around it, and she shivered. “We can do this. Allegra once swam with sharks, and she believes in us.”

“Sometimes it’s that leap into the darkness that can be the most worthwhile.”

She took a deep breath and began to walk forward. No turning back now. “Time to leap.”

It was strange, how easy it was to walk through the gate. She’d been sure there would be some resistance, some barrier she’d had to fight through. But nothing. Then she noticed that the air had changed. The sky. It was as if the color had been swept out of the world, leaving in its place a sepia-toned copy. There were tombs lining the road, a few benches here and there, even a shack in the distance. But it wasn’t right. It didn’t feel real.

“It’s real enough. You look lost, little girl.”

She whirled in place, eyes widening when she realized the gate had disappeared, leaving the barren road, with another crossing it, heading off into forever.

A man was there. A kindly looking old black man with a smile and a curious expression. The hair on his head and face was white, and he was leaning on a cane.

“Where am I? Am I here?”

He shook his head. “Are you here? Is that really your question, little bookworm? You only get one, I know they told you that. Better make sure it’s a good one.”

“You look familiar.” Bethany squeaked at the young male voice, surprised to feel a tight grip on her hand where before there’d only been cold. Standing beside her was a ten-year-old boy with raven-black hair and large blue eyes. Emmanuel.

The man’s smile broadened at the boy’s words. “You’ve seen me before. Many times, I think. Manuel, right? Isn’t that what your sister always called you? You’ve been very brave.”

The boy puffed his chest out at the male admiration, his expression proud. “Real men should take care of the people they love.”

“That’s right. That’s right. Good boy.” Sparkling eyes lifted to meet Bethany’s, though it was clear he was still directing his conversation to Emmanuel. “I once knew a man who took care of the people he loved. His past was as checkered as his heart was pure, but he did the best he could. A long time ago, on the evening of All Saints’ I believe, he nearly died trying to save the little brother of the woman he loved from being sacrificed along with her.”

Bethany held her breath. He was talking about Marcel.

Emmanuel’s eyes widened. “Sacrificed?”

The man grimaced. “Dark craft. Nasty business. I don’t like to talk about it.”

“What happened to the man?”

“Well, boy, you know Papa Ghede protects the innocent and the very young. It was his night to roam the earth, and when he realized what had happened, he took pity on the man, who also happened to be the son of someone close to the powerful voodoo queen. Ghede had a soft spot for that woman, too, I can tell you.”

Marie Laveau? It had to be. Marcel’s mother had been one of her apprentices. Bethany opened her mouth to ask a question, and the old man’s finger instantly came up to silence her. “One question. But wait until I’m done telling this sweet child my story.”

She nodded and he continued. “The man was heartsick. Cut up, yes, but pained in a way that no medicine could heal. And being wise, Ghede knew that even if he turned back the clock, as he had before, the world was not ready for what this man truly desired. He also believed the woman was not quite finished becoming what she was going to be. It was a puzzle. But then, anything to do with time usually is.”

“What did Papa Ghede do?”

“The only thing to do was wait. Problem was, he knew the man would go mad with the memories and it would twist him up in the in-between time, so he made him forget. I was given the task of watching over him, while we let him do what he did best until his second chance came around.”

What he did best? “Sex.”

He shushed her. “I was going to say helping people find their true happiness, but yes. There was plenty of that, as well as all the so-called wishes he granted. It isn’t usually how we do things, but it kept him occupied so we let it slide.”

Bethany nodded. For some reason the way this man was explaining things made their decision sound perfectly reasonable. It also made BD sound more like a voodoo version of Cupid than a devilish incubus. She’d never thought of him like that, but she could see it now.

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