Page 68 of Curse in the Quarter
Her words resonated and he paused before he could formulate an answer. She understood. Somehow, without conscious memory, Delphine had grasped the central tragedy of their situation—that Charlotte’s grand gesture of love had indeed condemned him to lifetimes of loneliness and loss.
“Sometimes the greatest acts of love require the greatest sacrifices,” he managed. “From everyone involved.”
Delphine’s phone buzzed again. She glanced at it, then at the window where evening shadows were beginning to lengthen. “I should probably head home soon. But . . .” She hesitated, her fingers still stroking the journal’s cover. “I’d like to take this? Just for tonight? I feel like there’s more I need to understand.”
Every instinct screamed at him to refuse. Charlotte’s journal was dangerous in Delphine’s hands, a key that could unlock memories she wasn’t ready to handle. But looking ather face, seeing the genuine need for answers in her eyes, he found he couldn’t deny her.
“Of course,” he said. “But promise me something.”
“What?”
“If reading it triggers any unusual reactions—dreams, visions, anything that feels like more than memory—stop. And call me immediately.”
Delphine nodded, cradling the journal against her chest like a treasure. “I promise.”
She stood to leave, then paused at the door. “Bastien? That melody I hummed earlier . . . would you recognize it if you heard it again?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “I would recognize it anywhere.”
“Good.” She smiled, the expression so achingly familiar it took his breath away. “Because something tells me I’ll be humming it again soon.”
After she left, Bastien sat alone in his study as twilight settled over the Quarter. The room felt empty without her presence, hollow in a way that reminded him of all the evenings he’d spent alone over the past two and a half centuries.
His phone buzzed with another message from Maman.
The barriers weaken faster.
He stared at the text until the screen went dark, then closed his eyes and tried to prepare himself for what was coming. The careful equilibrium he’d maintained for so long was crumbling. Soon, Delphine would remember everything, and then they would discover whether Charlotte’s grand design had been an act of love or the ultimate act of selfishness.
Outside his window, the first starswere appearing in the darkening sky. Somewhere in the Quarter, Delphine was home with Charlotte’s journal in her hands, humming a melody that had echoed across centuries of separation and loss.
And in a few hours, when the barriers between past and present grew thinnest, she would begin to remember what it felt like to love someone enough to defy death itself.
He only hoped that when the memories finally returned in full, her love would prove stronger than her fear. Because what was coming would test every promise they’d ever made to each other, and the price of failure would be more than just their own hearts.
The journal was no longer between them—Delphine carried it with her like a key to doors she didn’t yet know existed. But the real message, the one written in flesh and soul and shared starlight, was only beginning to reveal itself.
And time, as Maman’s text had warned, was running dangerously short.
Twenty
The scream of fire alarms reached Bastien three blocks from the Obscura Archive. Not ordinary fire—the smoke rising from the Ursulines Street building carried scents of burned paper mixed with something that made his throat close in recognition. Flames that consumed more than wood and fabric.
He abandoned the car two blocks away and ran. Emergency vehicles clogged the narrow Quarter streets, their red and blue lights painting chaos across brick facades. But the firefighters stood helpless outside the Archive building, their hoses producing steam that dissipated before touching flames that burned in colors fire wasn't supposed to burn.
“Can't get close,” Captain Rodriguez shouted over the alarms when Bastien flashed his license. “Started about twenty minutes ago. Building's full of old documents—went up like kindling.”
Bastien studied the flames licking from second-floor windows. These fires moved with purpose, following patterns that spelled various words only the surroundingdocuments understood. They avoided certain texts while consuming others completely, selective in ways that revealed intelligence behind their spread.
Maestro's retaliation. He'd threatened consequences for Bastien's refusal, and now those consequences were devouring everything Delphine valued most.
“Anyone inside?” Bastien asked, though dread was already forming in his chest.
“Building was supposed to be empty. But . . .” Rodriguez gestured toward a firefighter approaching with grim urgency. “Tell him what you told me, Morrison.”
The younger man's face was pale beneath his helmet. “Heard someone calling for help from the second floor. Woman's voice. But every attempt we make to get close, the flames surge higher. It's like they're defending something.”
Delphine.
