She shook her head. “No, Felix, they’re here. I feel them.” Tears started to stream down her face. “I smell my mother’s perfume. I can hear my sisters whispering, giggling. Can you hear them?”
“No, sweetheart.” He shook his head gently. “That is for your ears only. They’ve come to comfort you, to tell you they are with you always.”
Maybe that is what she needed to regain control of her life, a brush with those from beyond, real or imagined. Felix turned, intending to take the snake and deposit it back in the basket. He thought perhaps Camille needed him to just hold her in his arms platonically more than she needed passion or magic, and he owed her that.
He had taken two steps toward the doors when something about the sound, the movement behind him had him whipping back around before he could even decipher where his alarm had arisen from. Holy hell, what he had heard had been Camille climbing up onto the wrought iron railing of the Juliet balcony.
“Camille! Get down.” She was standing on the wrong side of it, feet perched precariously on just a few inches of wood flooring, arms stretched out as she clung to the railing.
Felix moved to erase the distance between them, panicking.
“I see them,” she said. “Right in front of me, Felix! It’s so good to see them again.”
He was reaching for her when it happened. She laughed and let go, her arms outstretched to nothing. Felix tried to grab her, but his fingers slid along her bare skin, nothing to hold on to, and she pitched forward. Lurching forward himself, he climbed up on the railing, desperate to find a way to stop her fall, but it was too late, hopeless, and as a groan escaped his mouth, Camille landed on the cobblestones with a horrific jarring crunch.
The snake he had forgotten about bit his arm.
Felix jerked from the pain and the serpent slid off his shoulders, tumbling over the side of the balcony, following Camille in a surreal tangle of its long heavy body, framed by the stones, the lush green foliage on either side of it. Down and down it swirled, a freakish unnatural twisting and turning of its elongated body. Frozen, Felix watched the snake finally hit the stones at Camille’s feet.
Then he started running down the stairs, the back door of the house opening at the same time he dropped onto the courtyard, skipping the last three steps. The little brunette maid, the one who had been peeking into the bedroom, stepped outside. She took one look at Camille on the ground and opened her mouth to scream. Felix moved to her and clapped his hand over her mouth.
“She fell,” he told the maid in a hoarse whisper. “Don’t make it worse for her memory. I was never here, do you understand? I was never here and she was sleepwalking and slipped.”
The maid just stared at him with wide eyes. He shook her a little. “Do you understand me?”
She nodded quickly.
Felix never knew what the maid told the staff and the doctor who must have been called to the scene of the accident, but within two days the newspapers were reporting that Camille had killed herself, a snake wrapped around her neck as she took her deadly plunge.
But he wasn’t around to read the various accounts. He left New Orleans within an hour of Camille’s death and didn’t return for ten years, during which time he perfected the art of self-loathing.
Regan had scared herself by putting on Beau’s ring, and scared herself even more when she’d been unable to take it off. There were strange things happening in her house, in her mind, and she was worried that it was more abnormal, more dangerous, than she could ignore.
Even now, on the street after dinner, she kept glancing down at her bare finger, picturing the princess-cut diamond on it, how beautiful it had looked, how she had heard almost whispers in her head, assuring her of the rightness of its presence. It had been terrifying, that one part of her rational mind had known the truth, that she didn’t want to be with Beau, while the other had been like a wicked child, encouraging and coaxing and manipulative, daring her to keep the ring on.There was something so very insane about it, so not herself that Regan felt the gnawing relentlessness of anxiety eating away at her.
But being with Felix, having his hand at the small of her back, and his calm smile trained on her, made her feel almost normal again. She had the sense that no matter what happened, she could count on him to stand by her, and that was a huge reassurance.
As they strolled down Royal Street after having dinner in the courtyard at the Court of Two Sisters, comfortable and content with each other, Regan realized that she finally understood what was needed to sustain a serious relationship. It wasn’t enough just to love. You had to be able to show your partner everything about yourself, good, bad, vulnerable, odd, and know that it didn’t matter. You had to be able to trust that at any given moment, he could and would support you, that his love was well and truly unconditional, and that while you weren’t always going to like each other every single minute, you were always going to love each other.
She loved Felix. It was as simple as that, and when he had reached out and yanked Beau’s ring off her finger, she had known that with absolute certainty. She found Felix the most intriguing, compassionate, self-aware man she’d ever met. She’d seen his good, his bad, his warmth, his cool defensiveness, and she understood that the difference when he showed aloofness had to do with him, not her.
And he was seeing her at her worst, or at least her most vulnerable, and he didn’t care. He thought she was worthy, no matter how imperfect she might be. It was so cliché, but she could truly just be herself around him and he still seemed to think she was deserving of his attention and affection.
Her cell phone rang in her purse and she fished it out to check the screen. “It’s my mother. I’ll call her back.”
Felix shook his head, a smile dancing across his lips. “I still can’t believe that’s your ring tone. It sounds like it could be Harvard’s alma mater or something. It doesn’t suit you at all.”
“What should my ring tone be?” she asked, tucking her phone away and reaching for his hand. She wanted to touch him all the time, just feel his skin on hers.
“You’re always listening to pop and dance music. You need something like that on your phone.”
Regan made a face. “I’m really too old to listen to that stuff. It’s my guilty pleasure, but I can’t have it going off on my phone.”
“Why not? If you like it, why is it anyone else’s business?” Felix stroked her thumb with his as he held her hand and paused in front of her house. “We’re home.”