Page 5 of Bewitching the Dragon
Apparently, Becca had witnessed her parents’ deaths, and the experience had been so traumatic that her mind had tucked the memory away in its deepest, darkest recesses, and try as she may, she had never been able to recall anything at all about that day. She’d woken up that morning with parents, and then the next memory she had was of Aunt Pacey, sobbing and clutching her in her arms, swearing to protect her sister’s child from any and all evil from this point forward.
Aunt Pacey was sometimes a tad overdramatic, but Becca could hardly blame her at the time, considering she’d just lost her only sibling and thus felt responsible for looking after her niece, despite the fact that Becca was already an adult.
Back in that bar, Rahu had acted much like Aunt Pacey often did, although definitely in a testosterone way. Not the jealousy, but the way he’d insisted on getting her out of that club, like he knew those guys in the band were targeting her. And not like they wanted to hook up with her, but like…like they intended to do her harm.
Which made zero sense. They had no reason to want to harm her, and she hadn’t met Rahu before, so he certainly hadn’t known enough about her to have such an overwhelming desire to protect her.
She took another gulp of wine. “A fight broke out at this bar where we were trying to listen to the band,” she finally said.
“A fight?” Aunt Pacey asked. “Where?”
“The Carousal Bar,” Charlotte supplied. “The band and this guy we’d just met got into a fight. It was pretty ridiculous.” She rolled her eyes.
“The band got into a fight withone guy?”
“Yeah,” Charlotte said. “He wasn’t even that big, but he was pretty badass.”
“Who?” Aunt Pacey asked.
“The guy we met. What was his name?” Charlotte said, and then she snapped her fingers. “Rahu, that’s it.”
“Rahu?” Aunt Pacey said, her eyes going wide. “You were hanging out withRahutonight?”
“Wait a second, you know him?” Becca asked.
“It’s not a common name and far too much of a coincidence for it not to be the same Rahu,” Aunt Pacey said.
“How do you know Rahu?” Becca asked.
Aunt Pacey stood, tugging Becca with her, almost spilling her wine in the process. Becca managed to right the glass before the red liquid landed on the couch.
“Thank you for looking after her, Charlotte,” Aunt Pacey said without answering Becca’s question. “We’re going to head up to the big house now, if you don’t mind. I’d rather Rebecca sleep there tonight.”
“Aunt Pacey, I’m not a kid. And I want to sleep in my own bed.”
“It’s not safe.”
“What are you talking about? It’s not like any of those guys who were fighting even know who I am. Or care, for that matter.”
Except Rahu, of course, but she doubted he’d come looking for her after she abandoned him at the bar while he’d been fighting off three guys. She probably should have tried to help, but honestly, what was she supposed to do other than alert the bouncer, who had already rushed into the fray to break it up before she and Charlotte slipped out onto the street?
Charlotte took her glass and the bottle to the kitchen. “It’s okay,” she said when she returned to the living room. “I’m pooped anyway, so I’m heading out.”
“Why don’t you call an Uber?” Aunt Pacey suggested, although she seemed far less concerned over Charlotte’s safety than Becca’s.
Charlotte waved her phone as she headed toward the door. “Already on it. I’ll catch up with you later, Becca.”
As soon as she left, Aunt Pacey tugged Becca in the opposite direction. “Come on, I’ll feel safer once we’re in the big house.” The big house was what she called the plantation home with the fat white pillars. The big house and the guesthouse had been in Pacey’s family for more generations than Becca cared to track, and neither home was any safer than the other, as far as she was concerned.
But if it stopped Aunt Pacey from nagging, it was hardly a bother to sleep in that house instead of the smaller one. Aunt Pacey hadn’t changed Becca’s old bedroom into a sewing room or office, so it was easy enough to put fresh sheets on the bed, and no doubt Pacey would make a steaming hot, delicious breakfast in the morning, so what the hell?
It was easier than resisting.
Chapter Three
“Warlocks,” Rahu repeated as he paced the length of the room that encompassed kitchen, dining, and living area in Ketu and Antoinette’s mansion in the lower Garden District of New Orleans. He held an ice pack to his swollen eye, and it hurt so much to breathe that he was pretty sure he’d cracked a rib or two, but he was way too keyed up to focus on the pain at the moment.
It was well past two a.m., but both Ketu and Antoinette were awake, standing side by side while Rahu related his story of the happenings at the bar.
