Page 47 of Mardi Gras Murders & Midnight Masquerades
The leader hesitated, clearly weighing his options, before backing away. "This isn't over," he warned, then vanished with the remaining members into the darkness beyond our property line.
"That won't keep them away for long," I warned as I went to check on my mate. "Once Delacroix realizes what's happening, he'll find a way to regain control."
Kota and Dani marched their captive back through our wards, the young woman's struggles growing more frantic as she realized she was truly caught. "You don't understand what you're doing," she pleaded. "He'll punish me for being taken."
"Then maybe you should start talking," Kota suggested, her eyes still carrying a hint of draconic yellow.
Meanwhile, Dre was already kneeling beside Lucas, directing her healing magic into his injured shoulder. The corrupted energy had left an ugly burn that stunk like rot. Under Dre's careful ministrations, the wound began to close.
"Better?" she asked as Lucas rolled his shoulderexperimentally.
"Much," he replied with a grateful nod.
"We bought ourselves some time," Dre said as she got to her feet. "And planted doubts among his followers."
I smiled at her. "It would not have worked as well if you hadn't picked up on where I was going. I hoped you would, but I couldn't say anything."
"That's because we're the six who work as one," Kota said as she handed our prisoner over to two of Lucas's pack members. Her scales receded as she calmed her dragon nature.
"People want to believe the best of their leaders," Phi observed, studying our captive with scholarly interest. "Learning you're being manipulated is a hard truth to accept."
I patted my bag where I had Delacroix's journals. "We found some more information. He has killed a lot more people than we thought," I explained.
"We will make him pay for that. We now know how his ritual works," Kota began.
"And we can disrupt it," Phi finished for her as I pulled out the most recent journal.
Nodding, I followed my sisters inside the house, our new prisoner in tow. "He documents everything. His fears, his contingency plans, even the weak points in his magical circuit."
"We have a fighting chance," Dani said with a smug grin.
"More than a chance," I corrected. "We have his playbook. And the masquerade is two days away."
CHAPTER 14
Danielle
Morning light filtered through the library windows as I stared at the captive Society member seated across from me. The woman was in her mid-forties, with streaks of premature gray in her dark hair and a permanent scowl on her face. Her wrists were bound with enchanted cord that dampened magical ability. Although, she hadn't attempted to escape. Instead, she'd been asking for water and insisting we were making a terrible mistake.
We’d used Delacroix's journals revealing centuries of manipulation to try and get answers directly from the source. There were so many unanswered questions. None of us wanted to harm victims who didn’t understand what they were doing. We needed to know how Delacroix was controlling them.
"I've told you already," she repeated, Frustration laced her voice. "The Society exists to preserve ancient magical knowledge. We're not puppets. And we're certainly not serving some... some mastermind. Delacroix is a benevolent leader."
My sisters exchanged glances around the room. We'd been questioning our captive in shifts forhours with minimal progress. She believed wholeheartedly in the Society's noble purpose, despite the evidence we'd shown her from Delacroix's journals.
"Angela," I said, deliberately using her name to establish connection, "you're an accountant with two children. You joined the Society three years ago after your divorce. How did they find you?"
She hesitated, brow furrowing. "I... they didn't exactly find me. I was having coffee at Café du Monde when I overheard a conversation about energy manipulation. It piqued my interest, and we started talking."
"Who was having this conversation?" I pressed.
"Carter and Griselda. They seemed surprised by my interest, but invited me to a gathering." Her expression softened at the memory. "It felt like coming home. Like I'd found my purpose."
I reached toward her hesitantly. "May I?" I asked, indicating her hand.
She eyed me warily but nodded. When my fingers touched her robe, my psychometry activated instantly. Images flashed through my mind. I saw fragments of rituals performed in stone chambers, recitations of oaths, and the weight of the mask when it was first placed on her face. I saw her kneeling before the Society's inner circle, and felt the pride that swelled in her chest when she was accepted.
Most tellingly, I sensed the mask's imprint on the fabric. It left a magical signature behind. The robe itself had absorbed traces of its enchantment. It had a subtle resonance that felt oddly familiar.
