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“No, sir, we’re all yours,” Daphne says and sends me a smile.

God, I love her. How did I ever think I could live without her?

The wait for Café du Monde is relatively short. Before long, we’re seated at a table in the shade with cold coffees and a platter full of fried dough covered in powdered sugar between us.

Oliver doesn’t wait even a minute. He just digs in, enjoying them as if he hasn’t had them in years.

“I never get tired of these,” Daphne says with a sigh and wipes powdered sugar off her cheek.

“What’s been happening with you two?” Miss Annabelle asks. “Have there been any new developments?”

I share a look with Daph and then fill them in on the past twenty-four hours, keeping it as undescriptive as possible.

“He’s going after our own,” Oliver says softly. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“We’ve spread the word to the others,” Daphne says, keeping her voice low so the patrons at the other tables can’t hear. “And they’re doing what they need to do in order to keep themselves safe. We’re all staying at Millie’s house because it’s huge, and we just think it’s safer to all stay in one place.”

“Smart,” Oliver says, nodding. “That’s real smart.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” I add, ready to take Miss Annabelle’s wrath, “but I had Miss Sophia and Millie walk through your house today to cast more protection spells and lay some fresh stones. I won’t take any chances with the two of you.”

“I don’t mind a bit,” Miss Annabelle says. “Thank you for thinking of it. I’ll do some more things after we get home and settled. I have my mama’s grimoire. It has some good old spells in it that I’ll cast, as well.”

“How are we going to get through between now and the eclipse?” Daphne asks. “It feels like an eternity. And I’m afraid he’s just going to keep torturing and killing innocent people. If he can’t get to the coven members, he’ll turn to someone else.”

“You’re doing all you can,” Oliver reminds her. “This has been in the works for a damn long time. It won’t be resolved in a day. You’ll live your life—carefully. You’ll learn. And by the goddess, you’ll stay safe. That’s the most important thing.”

“It’s sad what happened to Caleb and his girl,” Miss Annabelle says softly. “I like him very much. Didn’t know her all that well, but she seemed mighty nice.”

“This has to stop,” I murmur and reach for Daphne’s hand. “It’s time for it to end.”

The drive to Oliver and Miss Annabelle’s house is more somber than before, but when I come to a stop outside of their place, Oliver grins.

“No place like home,” he says and climbs out of the car.

I walk up beside him, and he rests his arm across my shoulders.

“Sure do love you,” he says. Oliver’s never been one to shy away from the way he feels.

“Same here, old man. Don’t pull that crap on me again.”

Oliver laughs, and Miss Annabelle pulls her phone out of her purse.

“My boys.” She sniffles just a little. “I need a picture of my boys. Smile at me now. Ah, there we go. I’m fixin’ to frame this one.”

“I’d love a copy of that,” Daphne says as the two women walk into the house ahead of us.

Before we can follow them, Oliver tugs me back.

“I have a bad feeling,” he says quietly. “I don’t want Annabelle to hear me say this because I don’t want to scare her, but I have a real bad feeling. I need you to watch out for yourself and for Daphne. I know this is going to be tough, and we’ll be there every step of the way to help, but I want your word that you’ll be extra cautious, Jackson.”

I’ve never heard fear in Oliver’s deep voice before.

“You have my word,” I reply earnestly. “And the same goes. I want you and Miss Annabelle to be safe, as well. If this isn’t where you should be, there’s one more bedroom at Millie’s.”

“We’re okay here,” he says and pats me on the shoulder. “But I want you to check in with me every day. I promised your daddy I’d take care of you, and I’ll be damned if this son of a bitch stops me from keeping my word.”

“I’ll check in. I promise. Now, let’s get in there before Miss Annabelle comes looking for us.”

When we walk into the house, Miss Annabelle already has a frying pan on the stove in the kitchen, and she’s getting ready to cook.

“I’m making y’all a meal,” she says with a smile. “You’re not getting out of here without some food in your belly.”

“No, that would be a travesty, given that we just ate a bunch of beignets,” I say with a laugh and then duck out of the way when she raises her hand to me. Not that she’s ever laid a hand on me. “You wouldn’t hit me.”


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