Binding the Shadows (Arcadia Bell) - By Jenn Bennett Page 0,46
into his ribs, making him jump in his seat.
“Don’t do it, Auntie,” he pleaded. “I might throw up.”
“He might do worse than that,” Lon said after swigging the last of a beer.
“It’s true,” Jupe admitted, stifling a soft belch. “Don’t say you weren’t warned.”
A commotion somewhere inside the restaurant dragged my attention to the patio door. It swung open, and a tall African-American woman strolled onto the patio with a protesting waiter in tow. Dark glossy hair cascaded around her bare shoulders, swaying with the flowing hem of her gold and black dress. Towering on clicking, spindly heels, she came to a stop in the middle of the patio and surveyed the room. After a moment, her long, regal face turned our way to reveal almond shaped brown eyes framed by miles of lashes, and flawless nutmeg skin.
She looked like a supermodel. A supermodel with a green halo crowning her head. A green halo flecked with gold.
Yvonne Giovanni.
No no no no no.
Her eyes found Lon’s. I saw it all unfold in slow motion, as if I’d used my moon magick to slow time. Shock stretched his facial features. With a shrill pop, the neck of the brown beer bottle shattered in his hands. He didn’t even notice. His nostrils flared as he pushed to his feet, and then—
And then his face just turned to putty. His eyes went all liquid and adoring. He looked as if he’d just seen the face of God. Rapturous.
My heart stuttered inside my chest, turned black, and shriveled.
If I hadn’t been consumed by a jealous rage, I might’ve realized that what I was seeing in Lon’s face was her knack being turned on full-blast. And if I realized that, I might’ve had sense enough not to look back up at her.
But I didn’t have sense, and I did look up. And my world tilted.
I was awestruck. Reeling. I knew how Cupid must’ve felt when he looked upon Psyche after pricking himself with his own arrow. The woman who’d strolled onto the restaurant patio moments before was beautiful, but this woman—this version of Yvonne—was brighter than a star. Ravishing, beautiful, perfect. I wanted to stare at her for hours.
How could one person be so . . . divine?
For a moment, just a moment, I heard a chorus of murmurs around the table, murmurs of awe confirming the same feelings I had. Then a single, sharp voice broke through the haze.
“Yvonne Grace Giovanni! Switch that off before I come over there and knock you into the middle of next week.”
All the shiny, shiny brilliance and the beauty and the overwhelming goodness just . . . dimmed. The goddess disappeared. And a retired forty-something supermodel stood in her place. Still stunning. Still regal. But just a person.
How had Rose resisted Yvonne’s knack? Was she immune, being her mother? Or just accustomed to it? Whatever it was, Yvonne didn’t seem surprised—she just took a deep breath and spoke to her.
“Hello, Mama.”
“What in blazes are you doing here?” her mother snapped.
“It’s Christmas. I came to see my child.”
“I told you not to come!” Jupe said in a desperate voice.
Lon stepped between Yvonne and the table, as if he meant to defend all of us from some fire-breathing dragon. “You’ve been talking to him?” His brows knitted. An angry, deep line creased the middle of his forehead as he got in her face. She moved her head to the side, trying to avoid his gaze, but he moved with her, not touching her, but close. She finally gave in and stared back at him, a little defiant, a little fearful.
“She called last week,” Jupe mumbled next to me. “I should’ve told you, Dad. I’m sorry. But I told her not to come—I swear! She was asking about dinner, and—”
Lon whipped around and stared daggers at Jupe. “And you told her?”
“He didn’t have to,” Yvonne said sourly. “You all eat at the same place every year.”
“I told her not to come,” Jupe repeated again, and started to offer some other protest, but Lon shot him a warning look that shut Jupe down—they’d definitely be discussing the kid’s secret-keeping later.
Lon swung back to Yvonne. “The court says you get to see him from noon until five, Christmas Day, as long as you notify me first. You’ve known this for years. Nothing’s changed.”
“Well, what if I have?”
“If I had a fucking nickel every time I’ve heard that.”
She sniffled, affronted, then squared her shoulders. “That’s fair, I suppose.” Her eyes roamed over him, curious. Her