mentioned Olivia’s daughter.”
“True.” And Harlow had advertised her Web design business in the Picayune.
“Do you want me to confront him? I could go to his house, maybe rough him up a little, tell him to stay away—”
“No. If anyone does that, it’s going to be me. Do you have any idea what he wanted with her?”
“She stopped shopping to get some beignets and that’s when he made his move. Sat right next to her. Started talking about clothes and shopping and stuff like that. Then he told her he’d known her mother and that he and Olivia were friends.”
“All lies. I would have known about that.”
“He also told her not to say anything to you or Lally about meeting him, because you two had never liked him and wouldn’t approve.”
“He’s got that right.”
“They talked a little more and she asked him what sorts of things he could do. He said he didn’t like to talk about such things openly and they made plans to meet for lunch tomorrow.”
“Is that so?” Augustine had a pretty good idea about the kind of thing Ava Mae would want Ogun for. No doubt some sort of ritual to bind her spirit to Harlow’s body for good.
There was no way in hell he would let that happen.
Even if he had to kill Ogun to prevent it.
Chapter Four
Giselle and Ian arrived at Ogun’s to find him not at home. They drove around the block a few times. Giselle used the time to fill Ian in on her plans to make Ogun the sixth soul. Finally, on the third trip past, his car was pulling into his drive. They made one more circuit before parking outside his yellow two-story and climbing the porch steps.
She let Ian knock. Ogun was quick to answer, his expression immediately angry until his gaze shifted to Ian, but the wizard’s presence only took the slightest edge off it. “What do you want?”
“Hello, Ogun.” Giselle gave him a moment to process the fact that she was still alive. “Now that you’ve seen with your own eyes that your attempt on my life has failed, I believe you owe me a conversation.” Judging by his velvet suit and the rest of his gaudy outfit, he’d been somewhere more than just the corner market.
His gaze stayed on Ian. “What’s he here for?”
“Protection. You can’t begrudge me that.” But let him try and she would send a shock wave of magic through him that would knock him to the ground.
“Fine.” He held the door open wider. “Come in.”
She entered, Ian following after her. The ever-present stench of incense assaulted her senses. She wrinkled her nose and waved her hand in front of her face. “I don’t know how you can stand the stink of all that.”
Ogun closed the door and ignored her comment. “Sit or don’t. I don’t care.” He lit a cigarillo and took a few puffs, unbuttoning his jacket. Maybe that was his answer to her jab about the incense. He sat in the large, kente cloth–covered chair in the center of the crowded living room.
Ian poked at a strand of tiny bones dangling from a lamp, making them jangle. “Quite a collection you’ve got here.”
Ogun pointed the cigarillo at him. “Don’t touch those. Or anything.”
Ian’s fingers lingered on the bones. “Are you threatening me?”
“I’m telling you to respect my things. If you don’t, you have only yourself to blame for the consequences.”
Ian shot him a dark look. “Now that was definitely a threat—”
“Ian.” Giselle wasn’t here to play referee. Ian made a face, but kept his hands to himself. She settled in the seat closest to Ogun, the smoke of his cigarillo turning her stomach and making her wish for an extinguishing spell that would go unnoticed. Sadly, there wasn’t anything she could do but let the damn thing burn. It was slightly less irritating than the incense. “Ogun, I know you cast the choking spell on me. And I know it was because you were angry over recent events. I’m here, not as the new high priestess of the New Orleans Coven but just as myself, Giselle Vincent, to call a truce between us.”
His brows lifted. “Is that so? And just like that I’m supposed to believe you’re not here to retaliate?” He laughed. “You just made your new position clear. It seems to me a truce is the last thing on your mind.”
She nodded. “It would have been in the past, but things have changed. I have changed.”
A look of skepticism