“Papa Ute could possess different bodies,” Mariska says as if reading my mind. She steps up beside me and lifts a framed black and white photo of a very dark man. His nostrils are flared, and his expression is so fierce, he reminds me of an angry bull.

Today her hair is wrapped in a high bun with a navy scarf around her head. She’s wearing loop earrings, a brown cami, and a lace skirt. With her cat-eyes, she’s every bit the gypsy granddaughter of one of the most powerful voodoo queens in New Orleans.

“Was he a relative of yours?” We walk slowly down the hall, looking at these mementoes of the past.

“He was married to Auntie Celeste, Yaya’s sister, for a while. Then he went on.”

I’m not sure if she means he died or he moved to another town. It could very well be either.

“Demeter taught you to read palms and tea leaves,” I say, looking at the wall of rosaries. “Are you hiding any other special powers?”

“Gifts, you mean?” Her full lips part over straight white teeth as she smiles. “I have prophetic dreams.”

My eyebrows rise. “Anything about me?”

“Sorry,” she does a little frown. “My dreams so far have only been about me.”

We’re at the back screen door. She pushes it, holding it open as I pass through.

“Selfish girl,” I tease.

“It’s really more frustrating than anything.” She’s right behind me, letting it go with a slam. “I can never figure out what they mean until they’ve already come true.”

The backyard is enchanting. A covered patio is lined with hanging pots overflowing with flowers. A fountain is engulfed at the side of the house in a cluster of white oleander. A large ceiling fan keeps the air moving, while a few steps down, wisteria grows over an arbor. Along the fence, herbs grow wild in beds.

“This is incredible!” My voice is hushed with surprise.

“Yeah,” she smiles, tilting her head to the side. “Everything out here can be used in some way.”

I stop at a thick green vine hanging upside-down from a beam and lift a plump, red tomato. “Even in the kitchen?”

She laughs, “That one’s ready!” She reaches out a smooth, tanned arm full of bracelets and picks it.

“Tell me what everything is!” I say, following her out into the yard.

“Most of it’s pretty basic stuff.” She stops at a hairy looking green plant and twirls a stem in her fingers. “Mugwort is great for prophecy and dreaming.”

“Is that one your favorite?”

“No, my favorite is the lavender.” We walk down a few paces to the tall, woody stems covered in hazy greyish-purple pods. “I love how it smells. It brings calmness and peace.” She pinches off a sprig and sniffs it. “It can even be used for love potions.”

“What are these, daisies?” I’m standing in front of a bunch of happy white flowers with little yellow hearts.

“Here.” She breaks one off and tucks it behind my ear. “Chamomile is very versatile. Wear it in your hair to attract a lover or keep it in your pocket for good luck.”

“I know this one,” I say, bending down to touch a small green plant. “Pennyroyal makes you rich.”

She shakes her head, pointing down the way. “Rosemary will protect you, and sage will summon your spirit guide.”

A breeze sweeps through the vast garden, and I watch the fronds on a weeping willow sway like hair. Live oak trees spread their heavy branches over the back of the yard, just before the tree line becomes dense.

“You have a lot of herbs for protection here,” I note.

“Yaya has worked with a lot of troubled people.”

“That’s one way to put it.” I snap off a stem of round yellow flowers. “It makes me feel safe somehow, being here.”

She doesn’t answer, and we walk a little farther, our feet swishing in the long grass. “Have you ever mixed any of these into potions?”

“Not really,” she says. “I do little things like the vial I gave you, but I’m still in college. Yaya says the only magic I need to worry about is happening between my ears.”

“What’s your degree?”

“Fine Arts.” A bluebird flits down, stopping at the small wooden box high on a metal post. It’s such a small, vibrant thing. We watch it until it flies away. A black and white cat sits very still tracking its movements.

“Their house was lower, on the fence.” She points to an ancient rail fence lining the property. “We had to move it so the cats couldn’t eat them.”

“Oh no!” I laugh. “Cats are such hunters.”

“Some people think they’re spirit guides.”

We come to a small concrete bench tucked in a sweet olive bush. I take a deep breath of the heavy perfume as we sit. “It’s beautiful here.”

We’re looking toward the house. Patrick and Elaine are walking among the flowers, holding hands and talking. He brushes her hair off her shoulder and threads a bright pink apple blossom behind her ear.

Mariska watches me. “How are you feeling around him now?”

I shrug. “I guess being outdoors helps. I don’t feel anything in particular.”

“I’ll make you a lemon verbena tea.”

Looking down, I lift the little vial I’d dropped around my neck before leaving the hotel. It joins the tiny gold heart at the base of my throat. I’m not sure I believe all these talismans, but after what I’ve been through, I’m willing to give anything a chance.

“Didn’t you say verbena root would fight vampire blood?”

“No.” She shakes her head, pressing her palms on the bench beside her. “The shifter blood does the fighting. Verbena just gives it an advantage. It’s a powerful plant.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Hmm…” As she thinks, her shoulders rise. She folds her hands, and I notice a swipe of blue on one of her fingers. She’s a painter. “It used to be called herba sacra, because legend said it stopped Christ’s bleeding on the cross.”

“So it’s a coagulant?”

“It dries up the blood.” Her head tilts, and she grins. “It’s also an aphrodisiac. And it cures kidney stones.”

I grin. “Is it also used for protection?”

“Most likely.” She walks over to a grey tabby cat and squats. The animal bangs its head against her leg, rubbing its whole body down her side. “Wild rose and mountain ash are also useful against vampires.”

“You know so much about these things.”

“I just grew up hearing about them all the time. I’ve never actually met anyone—” Her lip goes between her teeth as if she said too much.

“Anyone what?”

“I just meant… well, anyone like you.”

“Why are you embarrassed?”

Twisting her hands, she takes her seat beside me on the bench. “You’re a hybrid, which means you drank vampire blood. Why would you do that?”

Her question is just above a whisper, and I look down, measuring my response.

“I have my own marketing firm. He was one of my clients.” Putting my feet on the bench, I hug my arms around my knees remembering how normal it all seemed back then. “He was older, distinguished. He knew about fine wine and music.”

“You dated him?”

I rest my chin on the top of my knees. “It wasn’t very professional, getting involved with a client. I guess I thought I was falling in love with him.”

“Were you?”

Images of these last days with Derek fill my mind, and I answer fast. “No.”

She turns to face me. “So why did you do it?”

Lowering my feet I shrug. “He has a presence. It’s hard to explain, but it seems to heighten everything.”

“His glamour.” She nods as if the riddle is solved.

“Maybe,” I say, thinking. “Before the bite, he was the most enthralling thing I’d ever experienced. After, he was repellant to me. I detested him.”

“I see. He forced you.”

I look into her golden-hazel eyes. “How did you know?”

Her expression brightens. “I think you told me? Maybe it was Elaine. Regardless, that makes it so much more cruel.”

“It was very cruel. I ran as far from him as I could. Elaine helped me move back to Wilmington.” With a little shiver as if from a sudden chill, I look up at the overcast sky. “Still he finds me. His voice is with me everywhere.”