Page 28 of Memento Mori

“I suppose we should call this in,” Dev said, and I nodded. He made the call, ringing Detective Miller directly, which I thought was a great idea, and then we waited. I was sure that this would be a long-ass night. Again. So much for us getting some rest and some private time before the shoot.

How in the world had a trip to New Orleans to oversee a frickin’ TV show turned into such a clusterfuck of murder and mayhem?

Chapter 19

Dev

We’d gotten maybe three hours of sleep. Detective Watkins had been determined in trying to find a way to make us look guilty, while a frustrated and exhausted Detective Miller tried to get to the bottom of the real story. Between once again spending hours at the police station, us checking Hanlen out of her hotel, and simply not being able to shut off our minds, it had been a restless night. After Hanlen had shared some information about the dreams she’d been having, I’d realized that a dark spirit had likely been visiting her. We’d moved her things to my place immediately.

I’d texted everybody on the show to let them know what’d happened and assumed that those who saw it didn’t get much sleep either. This case would be a rough one for all of us. It was maybe the first time in forever that I sort of wished we didn’t find much on the first night, which would allow us to beg off a bit early and start again tomorrow. The only possible positive was that if history were any indication, the more vulnerable you were during an investigation, the more contact could be established if the spirits decided to be cooperative, so thiscouldbe a boon—as horrible as it was to think that.

Hanlen walked up the stairs with Myst after taking her outside, and I set aside my tablet. “Hey, you two.”

“Hey, yourself,” Hanlen said with a jaw-cracking yawn. “It’s after noon, and yet I feel like it’s dawn.” She yawned again. “Geez,” she said with a head shake. “Sorry. There is quite possibly not enough caffeine in the world for this day.”

I stretched, my neck and back popping in the silence of the room. “You aren’t kidding.”

Myst went to curl up in her bed, and Hanlen ran a hand through her long hair.

“Come here,” I said and wiggled my fingers at her. She rolled her neck and shuffled over, plopping down on the couch and then lying across my lap. I massaged her scalp and raked my fingers through her silky strands. She let out a little hum of appreciation.

“Mmm, that feels nice.” She sighed, and I smiled. It did feel nice. Despite everything, all of this felt nice. The joy of being with Hanlen wasn’t something I had expected, but I’d known there was something between us from the moment I ran into her on the street. And that sense of rightness had only increased as the days passed in her company. Our relationship had been one forged in the fires of tragedy and sorrow, but there was no denying that I was falling hard for Hanlen Arbor.

“Are you ready for today?” I asked.

“Besides wanting to fall asleep on my feet already . . . yeah, actually. I am.” She smiled up at me, and I brushed my fingers across her cheek. She shifted, and her necklace slipped free of her pajama top. I looked at the golden veve, the sigil sparking in the light and with the magic imbued in it and wondered once again why it was extra-familiar to me.

I knew the symbol well. I had a similar talisman on my keychain for my patron lwa. But there was something else familiar about it. Something that resonated with me and my energy and magic. Still, the why behind that remained elusive. I knew if I let myself keep it on the periphery, my intuition would eventually fill in the holes, but my curiosity got the better of me.

I fingered the gold and picked up the pendant, rubbing it between my fingers and feeling a jolt. Interesting. There was more than just residual protection magic in the talisman. There was soul magick. Someone had literally put a bit of themselves into this piece of jewelry.

“Who gave you this again?” I asked.

“The best friend I told you I lost? My sister for all intents and purposes? The one who was murdered? This was hers. She never took it off. We basically grew up together, at least during our later teen years, and then we moved in together in the city after graduation.” She shifted to stare up at me, and the look of sorrow in her eyes nearly made tears spring to mine.

“The morning after the police notified me of what’d happened, I found this in a bowl on the hallway table. To this day, I still don’t know why she wasn’t wearing it that night. Like I said, she never took it off. But it was there, and nowI’verarely taken it off.”

I let the veve drop to her chest and gently pinched her chin, leaning down to kiss her sweetly. “I’m so sorry,mon amour.” The natural use of the endearment startled me for a second but then settled like a warm weight in my chest. I did love her.

I loved Hanlen.

Whoa.

I brushed the hair back from her face. “What was her name?” I asked.

A dreamy smile filled her expression. “Her name was Reagan, and she was the most incredible human being on the face of the planet. Reagan Legendre.”

Everything in me locked. My muscles, the blood rushing through my veins, the breath in my lungs.

Merde.

Reagan Legendre. Daughter of Jacques and Phillipa. The second marriage between those two distantly related families in history, the first being Marie Laveau’s youngest daughter, Marie Philomene to Emile Alexandre Legendre.

Whose many-times great-granddaughter became Reagan Legendre.

My cousin.

Better known to me asGunnie.

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