The Dolls Page 24
“Are you sure it will work?” I ask.
“No,” he admits. “But it may be your best chance.”
I consider this for a moment. “What made my mom so desperate to perfect this before she died?”
He frowns. “She had the feeling she was in danger, and she wanted to find out if there was someone here in Carrefour lying to her.” He puts his hand on my shoulder. “Your mother’s magic didn’t save her. But it could be the thing that saves you.”
Mardi Gras arrives crisp and clear in Carrefour, the first cloudless day we’ve had in a while. Pointe Laveau is closed in honor of the holiday, so I don’t set my alarm, but I’m up before five thirty anyhow, my nerves on edge.
The first thing I do is cross to my window and look out at the garden. I’m startled to see Caleb sitting in the predawn darkness on the bench beneath my mom’s favorite roses, staring up at me.
I open the window. “Come inside,” I call down.
He shakes his head. “Thanks. But I’m okay.”
“Caleb, you don’t have to do this.”
He looks down at the ground and then back up at me. “I’m fine, Eveny. Go on with your day.”
I pause and say, “You’ve been avoiding me all week. What are you doing here now?”
I’m hoping he’ll say he’s here because he wants to be. But instead he says, “It’s Mardi Gras, Eveny. The most dangerous day of the year for our sosyete.”
I stare at him for a long time before nodding and closing the window, a lump in my throat. He’s here because he has to be; that’s all. But that doesn’t stop me from being touched. Or from making him a cup of coffee once I’m dressed and bringing it out to the garden. I hand it to him and sit down on the bench next to him with a mug of my own. I try not to notice as he scoots away.
“You know, you don’t have to take me to the ball tonight,” I say.
He turns to look at me as the steam rises from his coffee mug, blurring his face for a moment. “I want to,” he says bluntly.
“Of course you do,” I say, trying not to sound bitter. “It’s your job.”
He seems to choose his words carefully before speaking. “I’m obligated to protect you, not to take you to the ball. I want to take you to the ball.” He doesn’t look at me, but he takes a sip of his coffee, which feels a bit like an acceptance of my olive branch. “That’s why I asked you,” he adds a moment later.
We sit in silence for a long time. Finally, he says, “I’m sorry,” in such a low voice that I almost don’t hear him.
“For what?” I ask in disbelief.
“For everything. For all of this. You didn’t ask for any of it.”
“Neither did you,” I say.
He nods and takes another sip of his coffee, and I take a sip of mine. Around us, the world comes to life as the sun rises, turning the sky a million beautiful shades of watercolor blue.
I lock myself in my room that afternoon and, after poring over my mother’s herb journal and thinking a lot about what Boniface said, I take a deep breath, hope my mother was right about the lip gloss, and call on Eloi Oke.
“Alder leaf, thyme, and peony, I draw your power,” I say. “Spirits, please imbue this gloss with the truth that could save our lives tonight. Let it show up blood red on the face of the person who’s lying about the night Glory Jones died.” The air pressure shifts, and I feel a breeze as I murmur, “Mesi, zanset. Mesi, zanset. Mesi, zanset.”
I call Peregrine when I’m done and ask if she can conference Chloe in. When they’re both on the line, I hastily explain my mother’s lip gloss and the charm I just cast over it.
“How do you know it will work?” Peregrine asks.
“I don’t,” I say. “But do you have a better idea?”
“No,” she admits. “But you’re the only one who will see the mark of the traitor?”
“That’s what Boniface said,” I tell her.
“Can’t hurt to try,” Chloe says. “Let us know the second you see anything, okay?”
“Of course,” I say. “Don’t tell anyone, though. I know you two aren’t the ones who betrayed Glory, but it could be someone else we trust.”
“Like one of your unfortunate little friends from the Périphérie?” Peregrine asks sweetly.
Chloe surprises me by saying, “Lay off, Peregrine. It could be anyone. And Eveny, I agree. We don’t know who to trust. Your secret’s safe.”
“Peregrine?” I ask.
“Whatever,” she says. I hear a doorbell ring in the background and Peregrine says, “Cristof is here. I’m getting my hair done. See you tonight.”
I hear a click, then Chloe’s voice. “You still there?” she asks.
“I’m here.” I pause. “Will you call Caleb and tell him about this too? I don’t think I can handle talking to him right now.”
“I’ll do it.” She pauses and adds, “Good luck, Eveny. I hope this works.”
“Me too.”
Liv comes over late that afternoon so we can get ready for the ball together. She’s so excited about her dress—a slinky purple satin sheath—and her date with Drew that she doesn’t seem to notice how quiet I’m being.
“Do you think Drew’ll try anything tonight?” she asks as she curls her hair in my bathroom mirror. I’m standing beside her, putting on my eye makeup. “I think he likes me, but this will be our first date-date. We’ve been talking on the phone every night, though, and our chemistry is pretty insane. Am I being totally lame?”
She’s talking so quickly I can barely keep up with her, but her enthusiasm is just what I need to keep my mind off of what might happen later.
“You’re not being lame at all. And I bet he’ll try to kiss you,” I say.
Liv laughs. “Maybe.” She fluffs her curls in satisfaction, turns to look at herself from both the left and the right in the mirror, then unplugs the curling iron. “How do I look?”
“Gorgeous.”
“You okay, Eveny?” she asks, watching my reflection in the mirror closely.
“Me? I’m fine!” I overenthuse.
“You’re nervous about Caleb.” Her expression is sympathetic and concerned. “I know I keep saying this, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” she says. “Just kiss him!”
I look down at the tube of charmed lip gloss, which lies on the bathroom counter. “I will.”
I finish putting on mascara, then add a dusting of peach blush, which makes my skin look luminous. My hair falls around my shoulders in gentle, rippling waves, and the beautiful champagne-colored dress I’ve pulled from my mother’s closet complements my coloring perfectly.
The last thing I do before leaving the bathroom is to uncap the charmed gloss, slick it over my lips, and glance once more at the mirror. Thanks, Mom, I think as I set the gloss down on the bathroom counter.
I take a deep breath, pray that Liv isn’t the one I need to worry about, and give her a kiss on the cheek. I sigh in relief when no mark appears. “I’m so glad we’re friends,” I tell her.
“Me too, Eveny.” She looks at me more closely. “Ooh, let me grab some of that gloss,” she says, reaching for the tube. She runs it over her own lips before I can stop her.
Liv hands me back the tube, and I shove it into the little beige purse she loaned me for the evening, hoping she didn’t affect the potency of the magic.
“You okay?” I ask uncertainly.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
The doorbell rings before I can answer, and Liv’s eyes widen. “They’re here!”
She’s already barreling out of the bathroom before I have a chance to reply. I say a little prayer that nothing bad will happen to her tonight, and follow her downstairs.
Liv blows me a kiss then pulls the door open. Drew and Caleb are standing there side by side, each of them clutching small, clear boxes with corsages inside.
“We pulled up at the same time,” Drew says, gesturing to Caleb. “Although now I’m thinking we should have coordinated.”
He refocuses on Liv and holds out the corsage, which is white with little green ribbons. “You look really pretty, Liv.”
Caleb looks at me with sad, almost desperate eyes while Drew slips the corsage onto Liv’s left wrist. When Drew is done, Caleb holds up his little box. “For you,” he says, handing it to me.
It’s a beautiful cluster of white roses, a white lily, and a sprig of baby’s breath, wrapped with a deep green ribbon trimmed in gold. “It’s gorgeous,” I say.
“Well, put it on her!” Liv urges with a laugh.
Caleb clears his throat and steps forward.
“Roses for strength, a lily for peace, and baby’s breath for hope,” he whispers. As his fingers touch my wrist, I feel a jolt of electricity shoot through me. From the way he looks at me, I know he feels it too.
“Thank you,” I say once he slips the corsage onto my wrist and looks away. I take a deep breath and lean in to kiss him on the cheek. I exhale in relief when nothing shows up on his face.
He offers me his arm and I lock the front door behind us. I feel like I’m floating down the driveway as we head toward his Jeep.
“I’ll let them pull out first,” Caleb says, after he shuts the passenger door behind me and climbs into the driver’s seat. We watch as Drew helps Liv into the old Nissan he’s borrowed from his mother. Liv giggles and blushes, and Drew almost trips over his own two feet as he hurries to the driver’s seat to get in. “They’re kind of cute together,” Caleb says.
Drew starts his car up, and the two of them head out without looking back. I look over at Caleb, expecting that he’ll turn the key in the ignition too, but he just sits there staring straight ahead.
“Caleb?” I ask after a moment.
He turns to look at me. “Eveny,” he says after a pause. “You really do look beautiful.” He stares at me for another long moment, then he leans across and touches my cheek so gently I can barely feel it.
“I wish things were different,” he says. He doesn’t wait for me to respond before starting the car. We drive into town in silence.
30
The ball is even more spectacular than I imagined.
I attended Homecoming my sophomore year in Brooklyn—Mer and I went stag together—and I suppose I’d expected an upgraded, Carrefour-ized version of that: a punch bowl, streamers hanging from the rafters, maybe a deejay. But the Lietz Theater on Main Street has been transformed into a wonderland of cascading gold sheets, deep purple uplighting, and a million twinkling lights overhead. The oval dance floor is a deep ebony, and instead of a deejay, there’s a small orchestra in the corner. Tuxedoed waiters circulate with trays full of champagne flutes and appetizers.
“This is amazing,” I say. The whole town seems to be here. I even recognize a bunch of Drew’s friends from the Périphérie, and I assume that many of the adults clustered near them are their parents or their parents’ friends. The men are all wearing tuxes or dark suits, and the women around the room are all in elaborate ball gowns. It’s decadent, outlandish, ritzy, and over the top.
Peregrine’s and Chloe’s mothers both make a beeline for Caleb and me as we walk through the door.
“Your aunt isn’t here, is she?” Peregrine’s mother asks once they’ve both hugged and air-kissed us.
I shake my head. “I don’t think she’s coming.”
Peregrine’s mom makes a tsk-tsk sound. “I wish she had even a little of your mother’s courage.”
I feel a surge of annoyance in defense of my aunt. “Maybe she doesn’t feel like it’s her duty to fight your battles.”
Peregrine’s mother looks at me. “Honey, this is your battle as much as it is ours. And she’s your blood. You’d think she’d want to help you.”
Chloe’s mother cuts in. “Or perhaps she just knows things are in your hands now and there’s nothing more she can do.”
I bite my tongue and resist the urge to tell them that maybe if they and their daughters had practiced even a little self-control, we wouldn’t be in this mess. Instead I kiss both of them on their cheeks, just in case. When no lipstick mark shows up, I excuse myself and hurry away.
I spend the next hour greeting everyone with cheek kisses and reapplying my lip gloss every few minutes. I’m sure I look like a crazy person, and I’m beginning to wonder if maybe I am. Maybe it’s madness to have put my faith in an old tube of gloss, but I know Boniface cares as much about the fate of this town as I do, and that has to mean something. Plus, I trust my mom. If she believed this would work, then I do too.
It’s not until nine o’clock that it occurs to me for the first time that the traitor might not even be here, rendering the whole issue of the charmed gloss moot.
“I love that you’re finally loosening up tonight and kissing everyone. It’s very sexy.” Pascal interrupts my thought process by sidling up behind me and putting a hand on my waist. I turn to find him leering at me. “If you’re looking for someone to make out with, look no further.” He puckers up as I roll my eyes.
“I’m here with Caleb,” I say.
“Who, might I point out, is nowhere to be found,” he replies.
“He went to the bathroom ten seconds ago. He’ll be right back.”
“And in the meantime, if you want to make out with me . . . ,” Pascal says.
I grit my teeth and dive in to kiss him on the cheek, which seems to shock him. I’m relieved when I don’t see any red mark develop.
“Seriously, Eveny, if you’re into it, we could slip outside for a few minutes,” Pascal says, his eyes darting around like pinballs.
“Pascal,” I say calmly, “I wouldn’t slip outside with you if you were the last guy on earth.”
“That’s just because you haven’t had any of this body yet,” he says, gesturing proudly to himself.
“That must be it.” I turn to walk away before he has a chance to say anything else. My shoulders sag in relief as I see Caleb coming toward me from across the dance floor.
“How you doing?” he asks, his forehead creased with concern. He puts his right hand gently on the small of my back, and for a moment, it feels like everything is okay. Then, he quickly pulls away like he’s done something wrong.
“I’m fine,” I say, looking at the floor. “Just confused.”
Caleb clears his throat. “About me?”
“About everything.”
“I’m right here,” he says after a minute.
“I know.”
Caleb stays protectively by my side all evening. To anyone who doesn’t know us, who doesn’t understand what’s happening, I’m sure we look like the perfect couple. He keeps a hand gently on my waist or my back all night; he dances with me to the slow songs; he even pushes my hair out of my face when it tumbles over my shoulders.
He’s so close, so mine. But none of it’s real.
This year’s Carrefour Mardi Gras king and queen are supposed to be crowned at ten, and just a few minutes before that, I ask Caleb if he’ll step outside with me for a minute.
He hesitates. “Sure.”
We duck out a side door, and as we do, I catch Liv’s eye. She’s slow dancing with Drew, her head resting on his shoulder. She waves, and I force a smile back. Drew turns to look at me too. Liv says something to him, and he gives me a thumbs-up. I’m sure they both think we’re heading into the alley to make out.
“Before you say anything, I need to tell you how sorry I am,” Caleb says once the door has shut behind us and we’re alone. “I know I should have told you everything sooner. But I was afraid you wouldn’t understand. I guess selfishly, I didn’t want anything to change between us. . . .”
“I understand perfectly, Caleb,” I say. “I just hope you can forgive me too.”
His face clouds. “Forgive you for what?”
Instead of answering, I place my right hand on his cheek. It’s warm, and the stubble on his jaw tickles my hand. I look at him for a moment, then I touch the Stone of Carrefour hanging from my neck and ask Eloi Oke to open the gate.
“Eveny, what are you—” Caleb begins to say.
But I cut him off by continuing with the brief incantation Chloe taught me. “M’lage ou. M’lage ou. M’lage ou,” I say quickly, the Creole version of I release you.
There’s a brief swirling wind in the alley, and then everything goes still.
Caleb pulls away. “What did you just do, Eveny?”
“I let you go,” I tell him. “Officially. So you’re not obligated to protect me anymore. You and your family have your life back. And if I die, you still live.”
His eyes get even bigger. “Eveny, no, you don’t know what you’re doing!”
“I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“But you just broke the bond between us! That means I won’t know where you are if you’re in trouble and you need me!”
I take a deep breath. “I know that. So you’re free now. Get on with your life.”
“Eveny!” he begins again, but I shake my head.
“It’s all taken care of,” I say quickly. “Chloe told you about the lip gloss, right? We’ll find the killer tonight, and then you’ll have nothing to worry about anymore.”
“What if it doesn’t work?” Caleb asks. “And what about the future? The threat to you won’t end tonight.”
“But your responsibility to me is over,” I say firmly. Then I steel myself for the lie I’m about to tell. “I don’t need you anymore, Caleb.”
He begins to protest, but I don’t stay to listen.
I run back inside and stand in the doorway for a moment, expecting him to come after me. Although I fully intend to push him away if he does, I’m still disappointed when the door behind me doesn’t open at all.
But there’s no time to think about it, because they’re announcing this year’s Mardi Gras king and queen, and the crowd is going wild. Pascal is already on stage, wearing a crown and a sash that says KING OF CARREFOUR. I’m not surprised; apparently he won last year too, and if I were a betting woman, I’d say that he probably asked the spirits for some favors during a possession ceremony.