Page 58 of Curse in the Quarter (Bourbon Street Shadows #1)
T he blood-orange ink crawled across the Archive's iron door, forming words in elegant script that pulsed in rhythm with Bastien's pulse.
He recognized the fae magic immediately—pixie dust harvested under new moons, bound with stolen children's dreams and sealed with essence that had never drawn breath.
She is remembering.
Three words that carried prophecy's weight.
Bastien's fingers burned as he peeled the parchment the words glowed from away, watching the message dissolve into empty paper the moment it left the door's iron surface.
But the warning remained branded in his mind.
Delphine's awakening was accelerating beyond all previous cycles.
The day's heat pressed against him as he unlocked the Archive, seeking refuge among familiar shelves and leatherbound certainties.
Yet even here, surrounded by cataloged knowledge and ordered facts, the blood-orange words echoed with Maestro's musical voice and its promise of terrible choices ahead.
Bastien settled at a desk and tried to focus on research, but his hands trembled as he opened volumes on soul-tethering theory.
Each page seemed to whisper Charlotte's name, each footnote a reminder of the woman who had engineered their eternal connection with love and determination that transcended death itself.
The scent of winter jasmine filled the Garden District mansion despite December cold seeping through window casements.
Charlotte worked by candlelight in her private study, her dark hair loose around shoulders draped in burgundy silk.
She hummed under her breath as delicate fingers wove silver thread through a thick braid of her own hair, each movement precise despite the tremor that had begun affecting her hands.
“Almost finished,” she murmured without looking up as Bastien entered.
“The moon-thread holds memory across any distance, any time. Spanish moss for binding, silver for permanence, and . . .” She pricked her finger with a silver needle, letting three drops of blood fall onto the completed braid. “Life to seal the working.”
“What are you making?” Bastien asked, though something in his chest already understood.
“A life line.” Charlotte held up the finished braid, its silver threads now pulsing with soft light. “When death parts us—and it will, mon coeur, sooner than either of us wishes—this will help you find your way back to love.”
“Charlotte—”
“Promise me.” Her dark eyes blazed with fevered intensity. “Promise you'll choose love over safety, connection over peace, even when it costs everything. Especially then.”
He promised, sealing the vow with a kiss that tasted of jasmine and forever.
The memory faded, leaving Bastien alone with the ancient promises. Outside, New Orleans hummed with morning life—coffee shops opening, tourists beginning their pilgrimages through the Quarter, ordinary people living ordinary lives unburdened by the weight of several lifetimes.
The summons arrived that evening as a whisper in his ear while he walked home through streets which had grown unnaturally quiet. Not words but musical notes that spelled out an address in harmonies only fae voices could achieve. The Beaumont mansion ruins, midnight sharp. Come alone.
Bastien arrived to find the skeletal ballroom transformed into something from a fever dream.
Phantom chandeliers cast impossible light while ghostly couples waltzed to music that existed only in memory.
At the center of this elegant illusion stood Maestro, his beauty untouched by time's passage, sharp features carved from moonlight and shadow.
“You received my message,” the fae lord said, his voice carrying perfect pitch that resonated in human bones. “I trust you understand our situation requires immediate attention.”
“Delphine's memories are surfacing faster, and the city is not . . . itself,” Bastien replied, maintaining careful distance. “Nothing I haven't handled before.” His attempt to appear calm as thin as the Veil was becoming.
“Ah, but this cycle differs from all others.” Maestro gestured gracefully, and the air between them shimmered with visions of past incarnations.
“Observe the progression, cher ami. Charlotte took decades to fully awaken. Delia managed years. But our dear Delphine races toward complete awareness in mere weeks.”
The phantom images showed truth Bastien couldn't deny. Each incarnation had awakened faster than the last, accumulating power and memory with terrifying efficiency. This version of her soul was approaching dangerous levels of conscious awareness.
“When the full weight of all lifetimes crashes into mortal consciousness,” Maestro continued, dismissing the visions with elegant finality, “even the strongest souls fracture under pressure.
I've witnessed it countless times—minds shattering like crystal, leaving nothing but hollow shells where vibrant spirits once flourished.”
From within his coat's impossible depths, Maestro produced an object that made reality recoil.
A rune carved from shadowglass—that mineral found only in spaces between worlds—its surface etched with symbols that hurt to observe directly.
The thing pulsed with cold light that cast shadows in directions that ignored geometry.
“A severing rune,” Bastien whispered, recognizing the artifact from ancient texts.
“Forged in Winter Court foundries and carved by artisans who sacrificed their names to create it. One touch to your soul-tether, and Delphine breaks free of the cycle forever.” Maestro's smile carried genuine compassion alongside predatory satisfaction.
“No more deaths, no more rebirths, no more endless repetition of love and loss.
She lives this lifetime as purely human—aging naturally, loving freely, finding peace in mortality's embrace.”
The shadowglass rune hummed with power that Bastien felt in his bones. It would work—could free Delphine from the supernatural forces that had defined her existence across centuries. She could have children, build her career, grow old surrounded by family who would carry her memory into the future.
“The cost?” he asked, though Maestro's expression already provided the answer .
“For her, nothing but blessed normalcy. For you . . .” The fae lord's voice dropped to a whisper that somehow carried more clearly than a shout.
“You experience the severance as a blade through your essence. One moment of exquisite agony that echoes for eternity. You'll know she exists somewhere in the world but you’ll never find her, never touch her, never love her again. The tether that has sustained you becomes a wound that never heals.”
Bastien stared at the shadowglass rune, its logic unfolding with crystalline clarity.
Delphine would be free—truly free—to live without the weight of their shared history.
No more dying in his arms. No more forgetting everything they meant to each other.
No more supernatural forces dragging her away from simple human happiness.
“Why offer this?”
“Because the Veil grows dangerously thin, and her awakening threatens the balance we've maintained for millennia. This cycle represents something unprecedented—a mortal soul accumulating power that rivals beings born to magic itself.” Maestro moved closer, his presence making the air shimmer with otherworldly energy.
“When she remembers everything, when she realizes the full scope of what's been done to her, her rage will tear holes in reality's fabric. The boundaries between worlds will collapse.”
The threat carried absolute truth's weight. Bastien had noticed reality bending around Delphine's unconscious magic, her latent abilities manifesting with strength that dwarfed previous incarnations. If that power turned destructive . . .
“I've observed what happens when mortals accumulate too much magical force too quickly,” Maestro pressed.
“Their minds fracture under the pressure.
Their souls burn out like candles in hurricanes.
Is that truly the fate you'd choose for your beloved? Watching her destroy herself while the world burns around her?”
The shadowglass rune pulsed again, its call promising peace through sacrifice. One moment of agony to save Delphine from an eternity of supernatural suffering. One act of love that would free her to live as she was meant to—human, mortal, beautifully ordinary.
“I won't use it,” Bastien said, but the words lacked conviction.
“Consider carefully,” Maestro replied, stepping back into shadow with fluid grace. “When her awakening reaches a crescendo and you see madness claim those beautiful eyes, you'll beg for this solution. But by then, the moment may have passed.”
He paused at the ballroom's edge, form already beginning to fade into darkness. “I leave this freely given, requiring no bargain or debt. Use it when the pain becomes unbearable, when love itself becomes cruelty.”
The fae lord vanished, leaving only the scent of winter roses and the weight of choice. Bastien stared at the shadowglass rune resting on broken marble, feeling its power whisper promises of salvation through separation.
He picked up the carved glass, its cold burning his palm with ice and fire combined. Surprisingly light for something carrying such finality. The rune slipped into his pocket as he walked home through empty streets, each step echoing with endings he prayed would never come.
He thought of Charlotte's braided hair, her dying words about choosing love over safety. But what if love meant letting go? What if the greatest act of devotion was setting her free from supernatural forces that would only bring suffering?
Bastien rose and walked to his study, where centuries of accumulated knowledge lined the walls in leatherbound silence. He pulled out the wooden box containing Charlotte's moon-thread braid, setting it beside the shadowglass rune on his desk.
Two artifacts. Two kinds of love. One promised connection despite inevitable pain. The other offered freedom through ultimate sacrifice.
His hand trembled as he reached for the shadowglass rune.
All it would take was one touch to the tether connecting their souls.
One moment of exquisite agony, and Delphine would be free to live without supernatural complications.
Free to love someone who wouldn't drag her into dangerous magic and ancient conflicts.
Free to age and die naturally, surrounded by children and grandchildren who would never know the weight of otherworldly forces.
The rune grew warm in his palm, responding to his wavering resolve. He could feel the tether thrumming between them—that silver cord binding their souls across impossible distances. So easy to sever. So simple to sacrifice his own happiness for her safety.
Promise you'll choose love over safety, connection over peace, even when it costs everything.
Charlotte's dying words warred with Maestro's logical arguments in his mind. Love or freedom. Connection or peace. The eternal choice that had defined every incarnation of their bond.
Bastien's grip tightened on the rune. Outside, afternoon sun painted his study in gold while across the city, Delphine worked among books, unconsciously humming melodies that bridged centuries. Soon she would remember everything. Soon the full weight of the lifetimes he’d waited—worked for—would crash into her mortal consciousness.
When that happened, when he saw sanity leave her eyes as accumulated memory shattered her mind, would he have the strength to watch? Could he stand by while her awakening tore reality apart?
The shadowglass rune pulsed once more, its surface growing warm as living flesh. Waiting.
Bastien closed his eyes and felt the tether's silver strength connecting them across space and time. In that connection lived every moment they'd shared—Charlotte's fevered determination, Delia's joyous laughter, Delphine's unconscious recognition of love that transcended death itself.
He could sever it. Could free her. Could choose noble sacrifice over selfish love.
His hand rose, the rune's tip poised above his heart where the tether's silver cord emerged from mortal flesh. One quick motion and it would all be over. Delphine would be free to live as a normal woman while he carried the wound of severance for eternity.
Choose love over safety, connection over peace.
Bastien's arm trembled, caught between mercy and devotion. The shadowglass rune whispered promises of peace while Charlotte's moon-thread braid glowed with warm light, two paths stretching toward radically different futures.
Then his hand moved—not down toward his heart, but sideways toward the desk's edge. The shadowglass rune struck wood with the sound of breaking bells, its crystalline structure shattering into fragments that scattered across leatherbound volumes and old correspondence.
The power contained within dissipated with a sigh, taking with it the easy solution to their impossible situation.
Bastien knelt and gathered what remained—a few shards that had escaped dissolution, their edges sharp enough to cut reality itself.
These he wrapped in silk and placed in his desk drawer, not as temptation but as reminder.
When the final choice came, when Delphine's awakening reached its crescendo and the world hung in the balance, he would face it with love rather than fear, with hope rather than despair. He would trust in their connection's strength rather than choosing the safety of separation.
Outside, New Orleans hummed with evening life while somewhere across the city, Delphine finished her work day and headed home, unconsciously weaving magic into ordinary moments.
Her awakening approached whether he was ready or not, bringing with it whatever chaos or transformation waited in their future.
But they would face it together, as they always had—two souls choosing each other across time and possibility. No matter what Maestro's warnings promised, no matter what forces their love might unleash, Bastien had made his choice.
Love over safety. Connection over peace. Even when it cost everything.
The tiny shards that remained of the shadowglass rune glittered on his study floor, and for the first time in centuries, Bastien felt truly free.
He'd rejected Maestro's Veil fracture countermeasure, choosing instead to trust in something far more dangerous and infinitely more valuable—the transformative power of love that refused to be contained by fear.
The game was far from over, but he was finally playing to win.