Page 39 of Curse in the Quarter
“She's calling it home,” Maman said, watching the artifact trace geometric patterns in the wooden surface. “Direct summoning. That girl has accessed more of Charlotte's knowledge than either of us anticipated.”
“I have to get to her.”
“Yes, but carefully. The network activation is drawing attention from entities that won't hesitate to eliminate anyone who threatens their authority.” She pressed the bag of protective items into his hands. “These won't stop the threats, but they might provide interference long enough for you to reach her.”
Bastien pocketed the protective materials and reached for the locket, surprised when the metal had cooled slightly—not because the recognition was fading, but because distance was increasing between artifact and source.
Delphine was moving. And she was moving fast.
“Where would she go?”
“Somewhere with power. Somewhere Charlotte wouldhave prepared for exactly this scenario.” Maman moved to her window again, studying the Quarter's awakening streets. “The old families built their most important magical infrastructure in places that would survive across centuries. Sacred ground that couldn't be destroyed by changing politics or architectural development.”
“The cathedral?”
“Too public, too protected by forces that wouldn't approve of Charlotte's work.” Her expression shifted to alarm. “But there's another possibility. St. Louis Cemetery No. 1. Marie Laveau's tomb specifically.”
“Why there?”
“Because Charlotte's family contributed to its construction. Because certain graves there contain more than human remains. And because if you wanted to complete soul-binding work that required connection to spiritual energy . . .” Maman's voice trailed off as understanding struck her. “Lord preserve us. She's not just activating the network. She's planning to anchor it to the most powerful mystical site in New Orleans.”
The locket pulled toward the shop's exit with force nearly dragging it from Bastien's grip. Whatever Delphine was attempting, whatever working she was preparing to complete, the artifact recognized proximity to its ultimate purpose.
“Go,” Maman said, though her voice carried reluctance born of experience with forces beyond mortal control. “But remember—if she completes Charlotte's work, if she succeeds in anchoring supernatural consciousness evolution to that cemetery's power, she won't be the woman you've been protecting for twenty-five years.”
“What will she be?”
“Something new. Somethingunprecedented. A consciousness that exists independent of physical form, gathers knowledge across infinite lifetimes, manipulates fundamental forces governing life and death themselves.” Maman's ancient eyes met his. “She might remember loving you. Or she might remember love as limitation that prevented evolution.”
The warning followed him as he left the shop and hurried through Quarter streets that felt charged with approaching culmination. Dawn light painted familiar buildings in shades of gold and rose, but beneath the beauty, mystical currents were building toward release that could reshape reality itself.
The locket pulled steadily toward the cemetery while its recognition protocols locked onto their signal so strong that separation had become impossible. After two and a half centuries of faithful service, Charlotte's most sophisticated creation was finally guiding him toward whatever destiny she'd planned.
Whether that destiny included room for love remained to be seen.
But as he walked through winding streets where tourists and locals moved with unconscious purpose—all drawn by forces they couldn't identify toward areas where mystical energy concentrated most intensely—Bastien understood that choice was no longer his to make.
The network was active.
The tracking was complete.
The transformation was beginning.
All that remained was discovering whether the woman he'd loved across lifetimes would emerge from evolution as someone he could still recognize, or whether Charlotte's greatest experiment would preserve their connection by destroying everything that made it human.
The locket pulsed once more against his palm, then settled into steady rhythm matching his footsteps.
After centuries of separation and loss, he was finally going home.
Whether home would still exist when he arrived was the only question that mattered now.
Eleven
Roxy’s scream cut through static like a blade tearing silk.
“Gabriel’s burning from the inside out. Get here. Now.”
The line died before Bastien could respond, leaving him staring at his phone. He had been on his way to St. Louis Cemetery No. 1, but the shrill screams in the background were a clear indication the pack was I trouble. His hands clutched his phone tightly as he pocketed the device and reached for his keys. The call had carried more than panic—it held the kind of raw terror that marked someone watching forces beyond human comprehension tear through everything they’d spent their lives protecting.
