#ThePastilHaunts

[aliensandartifacts]

The night was pitch black. No stars shone in the moonless sky. Humidity made the early summer, Louisiana heat feel oppressive if the breeze stopped for more than a second. All of the windows of the manor house on the Darrow estate were thrown open. Besides the cutting edge security system, there were guards that would eliminate any threat larger than the mosquitoes that buzzed thick in the Louisiana night. Ceiling fans lazily spun, their motors adding a gentle hum to the night air. It was quiet, almost too quiet, and that had many of those who were still awake on edge. Since returning to Louisiana, things had gone smoothly without even the slightest bump when it came to putting life back in order. Not everyone was reassured by this.

Hours before, Mel had retired up to her room to try to sleep. With her position secured back at LSU, she had been going through old boxes and crates in the attic in recent days to determine if there was anything that she wanted to take with her to put in her office. There were things up there from her “father” and Ambrose. So far nothing had been found that she wanted as a reminder of either of them. Pleasant memories were few and far between to begin with, even more so after the past year’s events.

There were six bedrooms on the top floor of the manor house. The house faced South towards the Mississippi River, and Mel had the bedroom on the South-West corner of the house. Francois had the room directly across the hall from her. To the north of her room was Dontanion with Alexander across from him. Next to Dontanion was Cade and Gabe was across from him. While it might seem counter-intuitive to have her two bodyguards the farthest from her, all of the men on that floor were equally lethal and it was a rare thing for Cade and Gabe to both be asleep at the same time, and for there not to be someone else awake if they were.

A soft breeze blew through Mel’s room. The fine mesh mosquito netting over the french doors to the second level veranda that wrapped around the house didn’t hamper it at all. The intricate Scottish lace curtains of the room softly rustled against the polished wood floors, barely making a whisper. The loudest sound in the room was the echo of the frogs that were calling to one another out in the side garden fountain. Even Mel’s shallow breaths in sleep were quiet as she wrestled with some dream. The only indication that her sleep was haunted by something unpleasant was the furrowing of her brow and the clenching of her fists in the white sheets around her.

Deep male voices echoed in the dark of her mind. Voices of those who no longer walked the earthly plane and inhabited corporal forms. Now they could only torture an torment Mel in her dreams. They truly could not even do that, for their souls had been banished to places where they could no longer harm any of the living. All that haunted Mel were the memories of what had happened in the Caribbean and different variations of the situations that had unfolded there. As real and contrived events played out behind closed eyelids Mel’s mind blended reality and the dream world.

The house was falling into silence as the LaVeau brothers and the other men were retiring to their own for the night. Cade was a straggler, reclining on the couch that separated Mel and Dontanion’s rooms, reading his Kindle. Marie had retired a few hours earlier to her bedroom that was the only one on the main floor of the large manor house. There were a few other relatives that were staying in guest cabins that were located on the property. Guards had melted back into the shadows, becoming as invisible as they were silent. Then there were the mystical protections that were invisible by their very nature, except by those blessed by the gift of the LaVeau blood.

In Mel’s mind, she was not in Louisiana, in the safe confines of the manor house in Darrow. She was back in the Carribean, once more in the house on the island of Grand Bahama that had seen so much death and bloodshed in the days after her friends and brothers had gotten her away from Ambrose and Adama. The events that led to the death of Ambrose and Dominic were once more being twisted in her mind; guilt over everything that happened there, and some that happened after, causing it to be warped and even darker than those bleak days truly were. The milky eyes of the dead men haunted her as they chased her through the house of Beau’s friend that she had stayed in during her time there, the hallways lengthening and becoming a maze that they never were in reality. Mel’s steps were hurried, panic rose as she seemed not to be able to escape from the men that she had finally been freed from in life, but were now haunting her dreams.

It was into this quiet night that a terrified scream echoed through the manor house, bringing Cade off of the couch and to Mel’s door. He had barely even slowed as he threw it inward, ready to confront anything he might find there. Only years of training and his senses being on high alert kept him from falling victim to the knife that was brought downward with force and speed. When the door had opened, it was not her friend and bodyguard that Mel saw standing there but Dontanion’s father, the warlock Adama. Fear coursed through her veins and she knew that she either had to kill him or she would be dragged back under his spell again. She couldn’t allow that. An arm came up to block Mel’s that slashed with an almost blind fury, and while there was a deep gash into the muscle, it was nothing that stitches wouldn’t fix; he’d had worse. What worried Cade more was that as his eyes fixed on Mel’s face, her eyes were glazed, unfocused, and wild in a way that he hadn’t seen before. She was in the grips of another nightmare and he doubted that she was even cognizant of what she was doing or what was really going on. While he’d seen her in the grips of one before this one seemed worse than others, added to that was that someone had missed a weapon in their sweep of her room earlier in the night. It would not be a slight that was allowed to pass easily, but the matter at hand had to be dealt with first.

“I need a LaVeau!” Cade called over his shoulder as his other hand gripped her wrist and applied just enough pressure to cause her to no longer be able to grip the knife. It clattered to the floor where it was kicked somewhere behind him, rattling across the ancient wooden floors. "Mel! Come on, princess, wake up!"

Now that she was unarmed, he grabbed both wrists firmly and spun her around bringing her back up against his broad muscled chest so he had her arms pinned to her sides, without releasing her wrists that were now crossed over her chest. His own blood was making her wrists slick, but he was able to immobilize her hands. Thankfully his height, weight, and the fact she was still not coming fully conscious made him able to contain her. If she had been able to think and therefore fight back effectively, he would have had one hell of a problem; it was a big enough of one now. White he had been negotiating his way over to her bed, he’d heard others coming up the stairs and out of rooms and heading towards where he was. While the nightmares were becoming less frequent, everyone was still on edge waiting for them. Dontanion’s tall and lean form was seen in the doorway first, something that Cade was glad for. Her brothers and mother were the only ones who seemed to be able to pull Mel from the worst of the nightmares when they gripped her tightly, which was why he’d yelled for them. Just as Don started to head over, a broader frame came from behind him and pulled him out of the way before shouldering in. “Whose blood?” Francois demanded. It wasn’t accusatory; there wasn’t anyone in the house that would believe that Cade would purposefully hurt Melania, but this was not the first one of her nightmares that had gone violent and accidents happened in trying to calm and contain her. Alexander had blackened her eye once, and she’d drawn blood on a couple of people. “Mine. Someone missed a knife when sweeping her room. I’m fine.” Cade ground out, hoping that one of her brothers would calm her down soon because the strain of his muscles to keep her sitting between his legs on the bed and her arms contained was causing his injury to do far more than throb currently. “Nice lie, the last part. Don, take care of him while I do this.” Francois’ words were clipped, but his tone wasn’t chiding. It was clear he was tired and from the fact his lounge pants were on backwards, he hadn’t wasted time on details and was going to continue that. Kneeling down in front of Mel, Francois took her head firmly in his hands and forced her to look at him. Cade could tell when their eyes met because Mel stilled. The tenor of Francois’ voice dropped, his accent becoming heavier and more aristocratically French. It was old world and spoke of his long life, but it also held a deep and rich affection that was mirrored in the expression he wore as he looked at his youngest sister. Mel had often joked he was like a third father and as Cade looked at him now, that is what he looked like, a father whose heart was breaking for his child. “Ma petite chérie, calme ton esprit et ton âme. Respirez l'air de vos ancêtres. Le passé ne peut plus vous blesser. Ils ne sont que des brumes de ce qui était, ils ne sont plus. Respirez et relâchez-les aux ancêtres. Ressentez l'amour de ceux qui vous entourent. Ressentez l'amour de ceux qui sont passés et qui sont toujours. Tu es en sécurité, ma petite chérie. Vous êtes en sécurité et vous êtes à la maison. ((My little darling, calm your mind and soul. Breathe in the air of your ancestors. The past can no longer hurt you. They are nothing but mists of what was, they are no more. Breathe and release them to the ancestors. Feel the love of those who surround you. Feel the love of those who have passed and still are. You are safe, my little darling. You are safe and you are home.))”

Mel’s breathing slowed gradually and he could feel her pulse also calm in her wrists under his fingers that still gripped her firmly. While Francois had been speaking to Mel, Don had been healing Cade’s arm so by the time that Francos’ words and the spells he was weaving had broken through the hold the dream had on her, all that was left on his arm was a bright pink scar that would be gone by dawn. Cade’s attention was drawn back to the woman in his arms when she went from fighting against him to trembling then sobbing. When she saw the blood that coated both his arms and the front of her pajamas, she realized what she’d done and started to freak out, requiring Francois to once again have to calm her down. Cade’s arms loosened so the elder LaVeau could pull her off of the bed and down onto the floor and into his lap. Once more her bodyguard and friend was struck by how similar in age they appeared, their current position had them looking more like a father comforting his child.

“Go get cleaned up.” Don’s voice was quiet when he spoke to Cade, his hand lightly squeezing the other man’s shoulder.. His gaze never left his siblings on the floor, wishing that he could have foreseen the devastation his father would bring about and have taken him from existence before he’d ever laid hands on his sister. Cade nodded, sensing that Don didn’t have to be looking at him to perceive it, then slipped off of the bed and from the room. As he left, Alexander and Beau slipped in along with Marie to clean up the blood from the floor and the bed. There was no telling if Mel would sleep again that night, but she didn’t need to have to see more proof of what had happened or deal with the mess that was left. No one doubted that after Francois had gotten through the grip that fear and memories had on her, that she knew what she’d done and that more guilt was already heaped upon what she already bore, some of which was not even deserved. In the past she always had done so and it seemed to haunt her as much as other things that plagued her in her sleep. Because of what Adama had done after Ambrose had kidnapped her, it made it hard for her mother and siblings to be able to do anything to save her from the torment that her own mind was putting her through. There was a chance that anything that they did to try to save her from it would lock her into it instead. He had used powerful magic when she had been with him and Ambrose, some of which they still were unable to decipher.

After things were cleaned up and Cade had returned, he knelt down next to Mel, who was still sitting quietly across Francois’ lap with her head on his shoulder and forehead resting against his neck. “Hey, princess, I bet your brother would like to get some sleep at some point tonight.” Francois looked over at him and the two men’s eyes met in the dark. During the search for Mel and then her rescue from the clutches of the insane men who had held her, they had come to understand one another. “Why don’t we get Gabe, Alexander, and we’ll even let Beau join and do a reenactment of that long weekend from Serbia where we drank ourselves stupid and watched bad movies. I bet the couch downstairs is more comfortable than the one in that hotel.” Alexander could be heard laughing from the doorway. There wasn’t much that could be more uncomfortable than that couch in the hotel. It looked pretty and that was the only nice thing that you could say about it. Gabe came and elbowed him and jerked his head back and towards the staircase where Beau was standing. He’d talked to Cade before the other man had headed back into the room. The idea was a good one. The last time that Mel had dealt with nightmares it had been the three of them and Dez that had helped her keep them at bay in a different way than any of them had tried since they’d come home, Beau would make a good replacement for their fourth team member. Maybe instead of trying to force normalcy, they should go back to what worked the first time. They were after all going to be a team from now on, maybe they all needed reminding of it.

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