“Very well, child. Go in peace. Mr. Prince, I will ask that you take care of her. Italian blood generations old is a powerful tool.”
“Yes, sir. I am very well aware of the gift I’ve been given,” Jaxon told him as he backed away from Marco, wrapping his arm around me. “I plan on keeping her very happy and safe.”
Safe.
For the first time that I could remember, I felt safe.
I also felt loved.
For a little girl who’d dreamt about the man who’d awakened her from the nightmare as inSleeping Beauty, Jaxon had come as a surprise, but one I would cherish and hopefully for the rest of my life.
CHAPTER 27
Jaxon
Two weeks later…
“Jesus Christ,” Emmeline huffed. “You’re late. Why the hell are you late?”
“They allow dogs in here?” Sinclair growled, playfully glaring at Zorro.
Woof!
“He’s Anastasia’s dog now and he goes everywhere she goes.” My words seemed to amuse the entire family.
How things had changed since meeting the love of my life. Zorro doted on her, not me. Zorro followed her around my house that was slowly turning into her house. Zorro went with her to the dance studio, no longer sniffing out drugs. Well, there was no need for that.
True to Alexander’s word, we’d shut down that portion of our business for good.
Zorro made himself at home on a seat, helped by my mother of all people.
“We should have brought Indiana!” Josette teased Sinclair.
It was a full house with the entire family to see my lovely no longer lost angel perform. With Irina as her taskmaster, but only for the ballet.
While taking a deep breath since I’d run from the parking lot into the theater, I glared at my sister while shoving the huge bouquet of flowers in her face.
She coughed on purpose while Alexander and Montgomery chuckled. Finally, I slipped into the seat, placing the five dozen roses on the seat beside me. “Some arrogant woman told me I needed to provide flowers for the star of the show. So I was just following orders.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” Catherine threw in from the seat in front where she sat with Alexander, Montgomery, and Fleur, the foursome awfully cozy.
Meanwhile, Sinclair and Josette were trying to keep straight faces.
“Very funny,” I snapped, thankful that Emmeline had insisted on purchasing a Prince family theater box. At least we had space and privacy. Plus, access to a bar and right now, I needed a drink.
Suddenly, I felt a soothing hand on my shoulder, tiny electric pulses that occurred when my grandmother touched me. Lilian Prince was a formidable force, the wisest, crankiest, and most magical woman I’d ever known.
She was also considered a Mambo or priestess of Vodou, a religion still practiced in various parts of the world including New Orleans. Her spells and successful use of gris-gris were widely known. When she spoke, people listened.
Including in our family.
As she shifted her hand to my face, cupping my jaw, a heated shiver moved down my spine. She was gathering my energy, reading me as anyone else would a book. Seconds passed that turned into minutes and no one else in the family was uttering a word.
“C’est la femme idéale pour toi. Ne la laisse pas partir, sinon les esprits se mettront en colère contre toi.”
She is the right one for you. Do not let her go or the spirits will be angry with you.
My grandmother’s squeeze tightened and I dared not move until she decided the moment was finished. I also dared not go against her wishes because she had full control of the spirits.
