How Deep The Roots Go ( Book One)

Chapter 36

"Get her out of here, Violet," Gaige said, his voice stiff with sympathy. He turned in the direction she was looking.

He hesitated a long moment. "Those guys will be done soon, and the tomb will be cleaned up," he added carefully.

Temperance nodded, words unable to form. The demon just stood now, glaring at her.

Neither Gaige nor Violet could see.

"Yes, lets get out of here," Temperance said softly, her eyes locking with the demons then.

Violet nodded fast, her eyes clearly indicating perplexity. She placed her hand on Temperance's back, rubbing it gently.

"I'll give you a call later, Temperance." Gaige noticed how quiet Temperance was and the shallowness in her eyes, saw the blank stare that was there.

"You two should go," he was looking directly at Violet then, his eyes speaking more than that.

"I'll talk with you soon, Gaige," Temperance uttered, and then took a few steps backward, then turning in her heel to her car, Violet nodding real quick to Gaige, matching Temperance's steps. When they neared the car, she stopped.

"Gaige, wait," Violet called out to him.

"What?" He turned, feeling deflated out of concern for Temperance. He hated that he had to tell her this way. But he knew that she would soon be informed one way or another. The information might as well be coming from a friend, he thought.

"Were the marks the same?" Violet asked, her arm now around Temperance.

"Yes," he managed to say, bile rising deep in his throat. The images on the tomb alone made him sick. "Go home. I will call you when my shift is over."

"I'll drive," Violet declared, taking the keys out of Temperance's hand.

Within minutes they drove away from Saint Augustine parish. Temperance sat in the passenger seat quietly. Violet quickly glanced in the rear view mirror then, the City of the Dead behind them now.

Temperance stared straight ahead, not looking back, not daring to take a peek. She had not seen this coming. She was hanging on to a thread of hope that this was just kids, just a sick twisted prank, but yet she knew. She knew this was a warning. Not to anyone else, but solely intended for her... Just like Hazel had warned. What she hadn't expected was this to be directly arrowed at her mother's place of rest.

In her darkest visions throughout her life, she was always equipped with a turn off switch. She could close the door and live her life, the visions not bothering her. Yes, she loathed only seeing diabolical evil events — the countless sins of man, and the nightmares that always followed. But she had never felt threaded within the visions until now. Never had she had her gift taken, and then given back to her in snippets, with her now being in the uncertain folds of them.

She tapped the window button, granting fresh air to circulate in the car. She closed her eyes and breathed in the fresh Louisiana air, allowing it to calm her nerves and her stomach, which was unsettled. Her hands rested on the book in her lap.

"It's just her grave, Temp," Violet said, looking over, concern visible in her eyes.

"They can't touch her soul," she added quietly, noticing the tears brimmed in Temp's eyes.

Temperance nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. That was one thing for certain, her mom was solid in her faith, and that fact was something that could never be negated.

Temperance was relieved knowing that, and she sure as hell wasn't going to allow this to change her heart on the matter, or distract her from what she decided last night. Believing now that the angels were real, that the words they delivered were valid, and that all the signs were pointing her to this one mission, Temperance only had an armor of faith now. Everything was now tying into a knot of credence for her.

As the memory of her own words on the porch last night claimed her mind then, doubt was no longer her companion. She would never doubt again...

She wiped the last drifting tear away from her cheek, as if it were a sign of weakness, and then she narrowed her eyes right on the road ahead.

"Let's head to Angels and Kings," Temperance said, her voice raw.

"Alright," Violet replied, her eyes never leaving the road.

It was now past one o' clock when they arrived. Violet parked on Royal Street, luckily finding a perfect spot not too far from Roman's bar.

"What are you going to say?" Violet asked, now walking beside Temperance. The streets weren't too overly crowded, but again this was Mardi Gras time, so it definitely had a good amount of people everywhere.

"I'm going to ask him about last night. I want to know how he knows about me." She wasn't about to let him be so evasive this go around.

"You want to grab a bite while we are there?" Violet asked, the bar coming into view then.

Temperance stopped suddenly. She was now right in front of the Roman's establishment. Her eyes widened when she noticed the sign on the top. She stepped back then, attempting to get a better angle, and then shock lined her eyes with what she saw. How could she not have noticed it before, she asked herself. The course of her heart accelerated against her breast, and the air she tried breathing in started to feel heavy and thick. Recognition charged into her like a stampede of wild horses.

Upon its humble marking of the lettering of Angels & Kings, there were two golden chalices being held by an angel with wings that were as red as blood. The angels face was bowed, so Temperance was unable to depict the contours of the face, but what struck her was the water being poured from one chalice to the other. Just like in her vision.

"Let's find Roman," Temperance said, opening the door and entering Angels & Kings.

As they entered, the sounds of country music from a jukebox floated upon the warm air. It was a nice change from the live Jazz that played at night. There was a lot of light in the establishment, allowing it to seem cheerful and not a stuffy place. It smelled of fresh squeezed lemons, but Temperance noted that there were still remnants of the smell of alcohol lingering from the night before. Temperance marked the trace of seafood as well, a tell tale sign of live crawfish being steamed in the kitchen now.

There were a few couples sitting at the wooden pedestal tables, all immersed within their meal and conversations. Temperance's eyes scanned quickly, but there was no sign of Roman. The bartender was wiping down the bar, intently eyeing Temperance.

"You two need a menu?" she asked with a thick sultry Creole accent. She was very pretty, Temperance noted. She had long brown hair and chocolate eyes, and a very voluptuous chest that was peeking through the V in her black tee shirt.

"Uh, no thank you," Temperance responded lightly, walking toward her, her chin lifting.

"Is Roman McKenna in?"

The girl just continued to wipe the bar, eyeing Temperance for a few moments before answering. "Might I ask who is inquiring?"

Temperance noted the hint of something protective there in her voice.

"I'll take care of her, Sky," Roman answered, then entering, coming from the back, walking toward her slowly, the hint of a smile upon his face. He was wearing dark denim jeans and a black tee shirt today, which allowed Temperance to see his well defined copper arms that she noted were armed with various tattoos. He had a long sleeve shirt on the night before, so this was a revelation to her. She certainly wasn't surprised, but indeed wasn't expecting it.

Authors Note:

Thank you so much for reading this chapter of How Deep the Roots Go. If you enjoyed it, it would be wonderful if you could vote. Feel free to leave comments as well. I answer every one. And last of all, if you follow me, you will find out right away when there are updates or new stories.

xoxo,

M