Free Daughter of the Thirteen: Bourbon Street Witches Book 1 by Lorraine Kennedy Page A

in his, he led her to the second story and through a set of doors to a parlor.
    They were in what appeared to be someone’s living quarters.
    With French furniture and beautiful art pieces, it looked comfortable, but wasn’t near as lavish as Magnolia Hall.
    The room’s occupants quickly captured Laurel’s attention. Both Arlene and Mora rushed to her side.
    “Where did you disappear to?” Mora asked, wrapping an arm around her. “You had us scared near to death.”
    “What are you doing here?” Laurel asked, forgetting to answer Mora’s question.
    “Bridgett and I have been good friends for a long time. She was the one who suggested you be brought here,” Mora informed her.
    Laurel’s eyes focused on the girl who stood a few feet behind Mora.
    She was a small girl, with hair so blond it could have been spun from moonlight. Her huge, silver - gray eyes were full of curiosity.
    “Bridgett my dear,” Marcos strolled to the girl and grabbed her hand. “I cannot thank you enough for your help.”
    Bridgett’s full lips spread into a wide smile. “I only wish I could do more.”
    Laurel was taken aback. Not so much because the two seemed to know each other, but because Bridgett didn’t react with fear or nervousness.
    Prying her eyes from the girl, Laurel looked at her friends. “What are you two doing here?”
    Before either of the girls had a chance to answer, Marcos spoke for them. “Arlene and Mora are your friends, which puts them in danger. I thought it best to keep you all together. Do not think for one moment the Dark Prince will not use those close to you to gain his ends.”
    “Why would you go through so much trouble to help us?” Laurel asked.
    He smiled in the same irritating way she was fast growing accustomed to. “Perhaps I look at it as an investment. The more witches I have on my side, the better,” he finished, giving her a wink.
    Laurel felt it would be useless to question him further, though she was sure there was a little more to his motives than he was admitting.
    “So what do we do next?” she asked.
    “I must be on my way … for now. The others will catch you up on what you need to know,” he told her.
    With that, he spun on his heels and was gone.
    Turning her attention to the girls, Laurel asked, “What is he talking about? How did you convince him to let me come here … instead of forcing me to go with him?”
    “I did that,” Bridgett answered before the other two could say anything. “Marcos is my cousin, so convincing him that this was the best course of action wasn’t difficult.”
    “I swear I didn’t know!” Mora cut in. “When I came here to ask Bridgett’s advice, she told me that St. Claire was a cousin of hers. It was then we decided to move house over here for a time … but you took off before I could tell you.”
    Of course it hadn’t been Marcos’s idea, though he’d made it seem it was.
    “I’m sorry,” Laurel apologized. “When I saw Marcos at Magnolia Hall, I felt cornered. All I could think to do was run.”
    Turning to Bridgett, she asked, “If what Marcos told me is true … how can you be related?”
    Her face twisted with turbulent emotion. “Why don’t we have some tea? This is a long story.”
     
     
     

Chapter Ten
     
    His footsteps echoed through the empty halls of Cypress Grove. Stopping at one of the paintings that hung in the huge upstairs foyer, Marcos stared at the image of a life snuffed out too soon.
    There was a time when looking at the portrait of his mother was the only way he could spur any emotion, but that was beginning to change. Laurel was making him feel again, and he found it fascinating.
    Before the angel witch came into his life, the only time he’d felt anything was when his mother was alive. In spite of knowing what he was, she’d loved him as only a mother could.
    A mother loves her child, even if he is a monster.
    Monique St. Claire never treated him as the monster she knew him to be . She would