Free Villere House (Blood of My Blood) by CD Hussey, Leslie Fear Page B

room was closed and he could clearly hear voices coming form the other side. He didn't normally pay much attention to the séances, cleansing rituals, or whatever other mumbo jumbo his female relatives were engaged in. But it was four a.m. Why on earth would his mother or Grandmere have clients at this hour?
    Listening carefully, he realized it was only Grandmere. He decided to ignore it, as he normally did. She had more than earned the right to have her own personal ritual any time she desired. Even at four a.m.
    That and he was dog tired and ready to put the night behind him. He still regretted allowing Lottie to escape without his escort. Thankfully her dumbass friend had been able to text him or he would have had to check every room in their hotel to make sure she was safe. Or comb the streets until he found them. Or sleep in the hotel foyer like some crazed stalker until they arrived.
    Now, sleep was all he could think about.
    Grandmere's chanting became louder, interrupting his thoughts. Ears pricked, he crept toward the door. He'd been wrong. It wasn't just her.
    What the hell was she thinking? Having late night clients was not only crazy, but could be dangerous. At least during normal hours, someone was usually around in case things went badly. But now? She was completely vulnerable.
    Rattled but not so unsettled to interrupt, he pressed his ear to the door. At first, only her familiar chant greeted him, but then another voice replaced it. Deeper, gravelly, male.
    He cracked the door. Cloudy eyes stared straight at him. Sweat covered her body, soaking her clothes. Tendrils of gray dreadlocks clung to her saturated skin. Though she stood perfectly still, he could see the rise and fall of her chest, like she'd recently been engaged in some very vigorous dancing.
    "Come in child," the unfamiliar male voice slid from her familiar mouth.
    He pushed the door open wider, keeping his feet firmly in the other room, and scanned the room. Besides an intricate symbol drawn with sand on the floor, nothing in the room was out of place and she was alone.
    "Are you all right?"
    "She is lost," the male voice replied. "She needs your help. You must trust her. Only she holds the key."
    Okay, he had to be mistaken. That voice couldn't come from the old woman before him. But there wasn't anyone else, at least not anyone visible.
    "She is trapped. You must trust her. You must help her."
    "Grandmere…?"
    She continued to stare at him with her unseeing eyes. There was something foreign about them. In fact, her entire expression was foreign, like it belonged to another face.
    "Grandmere," he said more firmly.
    Silence. Had she even heard his words? There was nothing in her reaction to indicate she had. A pit formed in his stomach and he suddenly feared for her mental safety. Maybe all the years of believing this crap had finally gotten to her.
    Pushing to door wide he strode toward her and gently took her shoulders. "Grandmere," he repeated in an even firmer voice, his face directly in front of hers. "It's me, Xavier. Talk to me. Are you okay?"
    She blinked a few time times and then took a deep breath, her expression returning to normal. The knot in his stomach relaxed. Releasing his grip on her, he retrieved a glass from the buffet, filled it with water from the neighboring pitcher, and placed it into her hands. Her gnarled and knotted fingers wrapped around it and she took a drink.
    "Thank you." Her voice wavered.
    "Everything okay? You had me scared there for a moment."
    "Why, what happened?" Her trembling hand set the glass back on the buffet.
    "You were talking. Don't you remember?"
    "Of course not. No one ever remembers when they're possessed by Loa."
    Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he set his jaw. "Grandmere, please be serious."
    "I am serious. You are the one in denial," she chided. "It isn't my fault you can't see your nose in front of your face."
    The eye rolling was even harder to resist.
    "What did I say?"
    "Just