"I can see them," I whispered. My voice was barely audible over the chaos happening in my head. "I can see the connections."
Stretching out from Congo Square like spokes of the world's biggest wheel were faint spectral threads. No, it was more like a round spider’s web. They connected locations all across New Orleans. The cemetery where we'd found the symbols. St. Louis No. 1 where our corpse had taken a supernatural walk. Celestine's shop. Plus, dozens of other points throughout the city. They were all pulsing with the same oily malevolence I'd encountered when trying to chat with the local spirits.
"It's a web," I breathed as I poured more energy into my spirit-sight. It was what I called my ability to see ghosts that no one else could. "Every single one of these anchor points is feeding energy back to the center. To right here."
"Congo Square?" Phi asked.
"Not just Congo Square. This exact spot where we're sitting." I looked around at the ancient trees and at the ground where countless rituals had taken place over the centuries. "This is where the original binding was anchored. And this is where they're planning to break it like a supernatural piñata."
The spectral threads pulsed brighter. Through them, I felt the thing they were feeding. It was vast and hungry. “It’s what’s been trapped for over a century," I told them. “It’s also very, very close to breaking free.”
“That’ll be an absolutely delightful reunion with the modern world,” Kota muttered dryly.
"How long do we have?" Dani asked.
I studied the pattern of energy flowing through the network and noted how the threads had grown stronger. I imagined they’d expanded over the past few days like a supernatural cancer. "At this rate? Maybe a week. Less if they manage to complete more anchor points. So, you know, plenty of time to panic and plan simultaneously."
"We need to start disrupting their network," Dre said as she extended her hand to help me up. "If we cut some connections or break some anchors, we weaken the process and set it back.”
Lia nodded in agreement. “We do whatever it takes to ruin their supernatural party."
"It won't be that simple," I warned as I allowed Dre to help me stand. The vision of the spectral web still burned behind my eyes like the afterimage of staring at the sun. "This thing has been preparing for over a century. It probably knows we're coming and has already picked out our welcome gifts." As if summoned by my words, a chill wind swept through Congo Square. It carried with it the faint sound of chilling laughter.
Kota’s hand moved to the protective charm at her throat. "We've stopped worse things than some century-old entity with an attitude problem and delusions of grandeur."
"Have we though?" I asked quietly. "Because this feels different. Bigger. We're not just fighting another supernatural bad guy. This thing could rewrite the rules of life and death.”
“That sounds like it’ll be terrible for tourism," Lia quipped. “Baron Samedi was no walk in the park. Don’t let it frighten you into immobility. You’re our secret weapon.”
The laughter came again. It was closer this time. Our enemy was listening to every word. It was waiting for the perfect moment to complete its century-long plan for revenge againstthe families that had bound it. And we were going to be standing right in its path when it finally broke free. No doubt we won’t have nearly enough coffee or protective charms.
"We can’t talk here," I said as I tried to find my usual sunny disposition. "We need to get back to the plantation."
CHAPTER 4
DAHLIA
The drive back from Congo Square should have been our cue to call it a night and regroup in the morning. Instead, Dea's revelation about the spectral web had left all of us wired as if we'd mainlined espresso. Or in my case, an energy drink. Sleep felt about as likely as finding a parking spot in the French Quarter during Mardi Gras.
"We need to start disrupting their network," I said as I pulled into Willowberry's parking lot. My mind had been racing through possibilities as I drove. "The best way to do that is to understand exactly what we're up against. Otherwise, we might not be able to disrupt anything."
“I was thinking the same thing,” Dre agreed. “We need to know the type of magic used to create it. The binding, too, because it seems tied into that.”
"We also need to keep moving forward with the reunion planning," Dani said as we climbed out of the car at Willowberry. She'd embraced our new life, but she often focused on our events as a distraction. "If Cyran's right about this thing targeting the old families, we need to be able to protect them at the party."
“That’s vital. Our events are becoming regular targets, and it’s getting annoying,” Kota complained as we entered through the back door.
Cami had dinner ready. We ate and brought her up to speed then went into the silo and began planning the reunion. The rest of the evening was a blur of design choices, lasering, and painting. Dani worked her way through the set up while Kota researched catering options that could handle both our budget and our unique requirements. By the time we fell into bed, we had three potential caterers lined up for meetings in the morning.
I barely slept. My dreams were filled with shadows and whispered warnings that dissolved the moment I tried to grasp them. When my alarm went off at seven, I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. My energy drink and determination got me moving.
An hour later, we were climbing into my SUV for the drive into the Quarter. The morning air was thick with humidity and the promise of another scorching day. At least we were making progress on something concrete.
I found parking right in front of the Bayou Belle Restaurant. It occupied a corner building on Royal Street. Its brick walls and wrought-iron balconies were typical of the area, but the establishment was not. The restaurant had a reputation for catering events that required... discretion. We'd chosen it specifically because Erika Thibodaux was one of the few caterers in the city who could handle supernatural events.
The moment we walked in, I felt the familiar tingle of protective wards woven into the building's bones. Erika greeted us with a smile that reached her eyes. She had the kind of genuine warmth you only got from someone who understood exactly what you were dealing with.
"Ladies, welcome," she said, gesturing us toward a table in the back corner where privacy spells shimmered almost invisiblyin the air. "I've been looking forward to discussing your reunion. I've been hoping to cater for the Six Twisted Sisters for months now."
