Page 8 of Holy Shift (New Orleans Nocturnes #8)

CHAPTER EIGHT

Holy hellhounds in heaven. The cake Pete ate must’ve short-circuited his sense of judgment when it wiped his memory. How else could you explain his crazy idea that she was his destiny? It might have been her name, but she was absolutely nothing of the sort. She’d made his already bad situation worse. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Him meeting her was the exact opposite of destiny. It was a curse.

She pulled her sweater tight against her chest as they trekked across the yard to Mike and Crimson’s house. The chilly March wind stung her cheeks, and her eyes watered as she knocked on the back door.

Sophie opened it. “Hey, y’all. Come on in. There was a famine demon on the verge of wiping out a grocery store, so Mike stayed at the HA meeting to talk him down. Crimson is finishing the food.”

“Should I send over more cakes?” Destiny spun and swung her arm to gesture at her bakery, but the back of her hand smacked Pete’s nose, making a painful cracking sound.

“Ow.” His eyes watered, and he pressed his hands to his face, popping his nose back into place.

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” She rested a hand on his shoulder. See? The Hot Mess Express had to be a curse on the poor, unsuspecting Easter Bunny. She’d given him amnesia, made him a little cuckoo, and now she’d broken his nose. What was next?

He squeezed his eyes shut before opening them wide and gripping her hand, sandwiching it between both of his. “I’m fine. Shifters are fast healers. See?” He wiggled his nose in an adorable way that only a rabbit could.

She nodded and tugged from his grasp, scurrying inside to avoid feeling any more warm fuzzies for the man.

Like her bakery, Mike’s restaurant occupied the bottom floor of his building, so they took the staircase up to the living area where Crimson stood in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on their dinner.

“Do you prefer shrimp or crawfish with your eggplant?” she asked.

He scrunched his brow and rubbed his thumb on his chin. “Neither? I’m pretty sure I’m a vegetarian.”

Crimson set the plate of fried shellfish on the counter. “No problem. Destiny is too.”

“I’ll take both,” Sophie said. “I’m ravenous.”

Crimson laughed. “Ever since you got your wolf, you’ve chowed down like a gluttony demon at an all-you-can-eat buffet.”

“Gotta feed my beast.” She popped a shrimp into her mouth. “Mmm. My compliments to the chef.”

“Have a seat.” Crimson carried two glasses of sweet tea to the table, and Sophie followed with another two.

Pete pulled out a chair and flashed his jewel-green gaze at Destiny. She waited for him to sit down, but he just stood there, holding the back of the seat.

“Let the man be chivalrous,” Sophie said around another mouthful of shrimp. “Sit.” She gave Destiny’s hip a shove.

Pete smiled, and she accepted the gesture, sitting just as he slid the chair forward and tucked her into the seat. He sat catty-corner to her, and Crimson set the plates on the table before joining them.

The savory scents of thyme and garlic filled her senses, making her mouth water. Fried eggplant slices sandwiched roasted tomatoes with melted mozzarella, and a side of pasta with marinara complemented the recipe perfectly.

She took a bite, closing her eyes as the flavors danced and melded on her tongue. “This is delicious.”

“Very.” Pete’s knee brushed hers beneath the small table, and she pulled away.

Jane hadn’t been kidding when she’d said the attraction between them was off-the-charts hot. If he were any old rabbit shifter, she might entertain the idea of meant to be…or let him hop on down her bunny trail at the very least.

But he was the frigging Easter Bunny for heaven’s sake. He might as well have been the allfather because, either way, there was no chance in all the realms that he and she were meant to be anything more than a walking curse and her victim.

“So…” Sophie set her fork down. “Now that you’ve found him, what are you going to do with him?”

Destiny’s stomach fluttered. She could think of a few things she’d like to do. “Umm…” She cleared her throat. “I have to figure out a way to give him his memory back. I’m hoping Crimson might know a spell to help.”

“Already on it,” Crimson said. “I’ve got something that might just do the trick.”

“Then what?” Sophie took a sip of tea, eyeing Destiny over the rim of the glass.

“Then, we…” She cut her gaze to Pete as he took his last bite of eggplant. “Save Easter.”

He coughed. Then he sucked in a massive breath and wheezed. His eyes bulged, his mouth hanging open as he slapped at his throat. Oh, dear lord, he was choking. Why had Destiny tempted Fate by asking what was next?

“You okay, Pete?” Crimson slapped his back. His body heaved as if he were going to cough it out, but not even the tiniest bit of breath made it past the wad of eggplant lodged in his throat.

His face turned red from straining. As the hue morphed to purple, Destiny leaped to her feet and moved behind him, fisting one hand below his ribcage, bracing it with the other, and jerking inward and up. He made an uh sound with her second thrust, and with her third, the eggplant dislodged from his throat and shot across the table, splatting right in the center of Sophie’s forehead.

It slid down, leaving a trail of mush and spit before hitting her nose and plopping onto her plate.

Pete heaved in a breath, pressing his hand to his chest and gripping the edge of the table.

“Are you okay?” Still standing behind him, Destiny wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her left cheek resting against his right.

He pressed a hand to the side of her head, gently holding her against him. “I’m good. Thank you for saving my life.”

She scoffed and pulled away, returning to her seat. “You might’ve passed out, but I definitely did not save your life. You’re an immortal fae. You can’t die.”

“I’m fine too. Thanks for asking.” Sophie wiped a napkin across her forehead.

Pete took a giant gulp of tea and folded his hands on the table. “My rabbit is just a rabbit. I can’t be the Easter Bunny. That’s something I wouldn’t forget.”

“Then you don’t know how strong angel magic can be,” Crimson said. “I was raised by angels. Their magic is stickier than glitter in a drag queen’s cleavage.”

“I’m just a rabbit shifter,” he muttered, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself of the fact as he rose and carried his plate to the sink.

Destiny followed, joining him as he rinsed his dishes and put them in the dishwasher. “You are a rabbit shifter, but you’re also a fae.”

“Wouldn’t I feel it if I were?” He dried his hands on a towel and leaned against the counter.

She paused, eyeing him, looking for signs he might be ready to shift and tuck tail. His calm demeanor and the causal way he leaned gave her the courage to push further. “You don’t feel it because your fae side is the part my magical cake subdued.”

He screwed his mouth to one side. “I suppose the demons forget they’re creatures from hell when they eat them as well?”

“Well, no, but…”

“They don’t because the magic she uses is tailored for demons.” Crimson took the plate from Destiny’s hand. “She spent years perfecting the spell to subdue their urges without turning them into zombified hellions. It was never meant for a fae or a shifter or anyone else to consume.”

He straightened, a shadow of unease falling across his features. “Since when do angels cast spells?”

“We don’t.” Destiny clasped her hands. “We don’t call it spells.”

“Sorry. Witch talk.” Crimson added more plates to the dishwasher. “She perfected her angel magic recipe specifically to subdue demons. Now we know it gives faeries amnesia.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t prove I’m the Easter Bunny.” Pete shrugged. “Has a shifter ever eaten one? Maybe it gives anyone who isn’t a demon amnesia.”

“I suppose that’s possible,” Crimson said. “Hey Soph, do you want to try one and see what happens? For posterity’s sake?”

“Hell, no.” Sophie dropped her napkin onto her plate and carried it into the kitchen. “I love my life. Satan’s balls will rot and fall off before I’ll chance forgetting everything that’s made me who I am.”

“No, no.” Destiny shook her head, her posture sinking. “No one else needs to get involved. I already can’t fix what I’ve broken.”

“Hey.” Pete stepped toward her and lightly gripped her shoulders, ducking his head to catch her gaze. “I might not remember my past, but I’m not broken.”

“I am.” She lifted her head. Even her closest friends wouldn’t take a chance on her magic. Maybe now he’d rethink that meant-to-be feeling he had about her.

“Your powers are bound,” Sophie said. “There’s a difference.”

“We need to focus.” Destiny shook out her hands before pressing her palms together. “Demons have to eat the cakes every week because the magic wears off. Pete, do you feel it wearing off? Are any memories returning? Anything at all?”

He lifted his gaze upward and to the right, tilting his head as he thought. “Nothing before I left the bakery last night.”

“You don’t remember asking Gaston for help with the hens?” She pressed her fingers to her temples. “You came to New Orleans to see Gaston because a vampire drained half a dozen Easter hens. Because you’re the Easter Bunny, and you need to save your holiday.”

He dropped his arms and returned to his chair. “There’s just no way.”

“Hold on.” Sophie drummed her fingers on the table. “What about the coven door? You used magic to unlock it. Regular shifters can’t do that.”

Destiny gasped. “And your clothes. If you were just a shifter, your clothes would have fallen off when your rabbit came through. But they didn’t, did they?”

He opened his mouth as if to deny it, but he closed it again, looking thoughtful for a moment. “I was thinking I could be part witch. I suppose fae is a possibility too, but I just feel like that’s something I would know. The fae are from an entirely different realm, and I feel grounded here.”

“I’ve got a spell that might help you.” Crimson set a copper bowl on the counter and took three herb jars from the cabinet. “Lie on the couch, and I’ll fix you right up.”

* * *

Pete eyed the sofa and debated the situation in his mind. Destiny’s magic was the cause of his amnesia. That much he believed. And they were right about the extra powers he could tap into, however unwittingly he did it. Being part fae was the only thing that truly made sense.

The women stood in the kitchen as Crimson worked on the spell. He caught a glimpse of Destiny’s copper hair as she walked past the counter, and his stomach tightened. His rabbit insisted he allow the witch to perform her ritual on him for the sole fact that it would please his mate.

His mate. Heat spread through his chest at the thought, but he forced his emotions down. Now was not the time for mate talk. He turned a circle in the living room, admiring the paintings adorning the walls. Detailed still-life and swamp scenes occupied the far wall, while colorful cityscapes decorated the adjacent one. He stepped toward a portrait of a man sitting on a red throne hanging above the television.

“Is that Mike?” he asked.

“It sure is,” Crimson said from behind him.

“Is he a prince?”

“Nope.” She laughed. “I channel the goddess Morrigan when I paint, and that one is… Well, it’s a long story. Maybe I’ll tell you sometime.”

“She’s talented, isn’t she?” Destiny asked. “Does the art jog any memories? You’re an artist yourself.”

He liked the paintings and could tell they were done well. They stirred a feeling inside him he couldn’t identify, but as for recalling memories… “No, nothing.”

“Come lie down and let Crimson do her thing.” Destiny sank onto the arm of the sofa. “She won’t hurt you like I did.”

His legs carried him to the couch before his mind could catch up with the movement. Hell, every part of him except his mind was completely on board with all of this. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“I just made you forget your entire identity.”

He sank onto a cushion. “Maybe that was meant to be.”

She laughed. “Sure. You were meant to forget everything, and I was meant to… Let’s try the spell.”

He lay back, resting his head on a cushion and looking up at her. “Promise I won’t forget the last two days? I’m enjoying getting to know you.”

A ghost of a smile crossed her lips before she frowned. “Honestly, I have no idea how it will affect you.”

“I’ll give it a whirl, anyway.” Because he would do everything in his power to make her happy. His rabbit insisted.

“It might make you dizzy,” Crimson said. “I did this spell to help a bull shifter unlock a repressed memory, and he passed out an hour later in his China shop. He broke a bunch of dishes and slept for twelve hours straight. His wife was not pleased.”

She lit a pink candle on the end table and carried a small bowl toward him before dipping her thumb into the potion and dragging the paste across his forehead. A warming sensation spread upward to his scalp, and he closed his eyes, willing the magic to seep into his brain.

“The spell I’m about to cast works on shifters and witches, so I’m hoping your rabbit side can do the heavy lifting here. Fae are a whole other animal. Witch magic can’t touch them, but if we can get your rabbit to remember, then maybe…”

“Let’s do it.”

She swiped another glob of potion onto his forehead. “The past unlocked. Memories freed. In the name of the goddess, so mote it be.”

He waited, keeping his eyes closed tightly as his skin tingled with the witch’s magic. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, but still, he felt nothing but the pricking sensation on his skin.

“Clear your mind,” Crimson said.

“That shouldn’t be hard,” Sophie said before she snorted, making him laugh.

“Not helpful.” Destiny’s voice was strained. She took things way too seriously.

Pete cleared his throat and focused as Crimson recited the incantation again. He sensed her hands hovering above his head, but still, nothing happened.

On the third recitation, Destiny rested her hand on his forehead. He knew it was her because his entire body responded to her touch, and his rabbit thumped with joy. His muscles relaxed, his thoughts turning to dust bunnies floating on a breeze.

“That’s all I’ve got.” Crimson’s voice sounded a million miles away. “Pete, did it work?”

He blinked his eyes open, and Destiny removed her hand. “Anything?” she asked.

He sat up and rested his feet on the floor, bringing all his senses back to the present. He searched his mind, sifting through the nothingness, searching for a memory of anything that happened before he ate the enchanted cake.

“Nothing.”

“Well, crap.” Destiny offered him and towel and pressed the heels of her hands against her brow. “I don’t know what else to do.”

His heart wrenched at the sight of her pain. He turned, angling toward her and wiping the potion from his head before taking her hand in his. He opened his mouth to console her, but the energy in the room shifted.

A familiar vibration gathered in the space in front of them, and Destiny shot to her feet before backing into the wall. “Oh, dear. Incoming.”

“A goddess.” Crimson pressed her hands to her chest. “It’s not Morrigan.”

“Holy fuck,” Sophie said.

A wave of pastel pinks, blues, and yellows shimmered in Crimson’s living room. Pete stood and instinctively bowed his head. He’d felt this energy before. He couldn’t remember when or where, but his soul knew she was someone he revered.

The light sparked silver, making his vision turn to a haze as the goddess formed in front of him. He blinked it into focus and took in the ethereal vision before him. Long, rose gold hair. Lavender eyes. A crown of daisies.

He knew this goddess. At least, he thought he did.

“Eostre,” Crimson said in reverence. “Welcome to my home.”

“Thank you, dear,” the goddess said before turning her gaze to him. “Pete, you’ve been a hard one to find. If not for this witch invoking Morrigan, I’d still be searching.”

“Searching?” He tilted his head. “But you’re not Morrigan.”

“Of course I’m not. She notified me the second she sensed the subject of your friend’s spell.” She gave him a quizzical look. “Are you okay? Did your vampire friend agree to help us?”

“Umm…” He looked at Destiny, who widened her eyes and lifted her hands in an I don’t know gesture.

Eostre took his hand, clasping it between both of hers, her brow furrowing as she seemed to read his energy. She stepped back, dropping his hand, her lips parting in a look of unease. She searched his eyes before her gaze wandered over his face. “Something has changed.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Destiny said, and the goddess snapped her gaze toward her.

A series of emotions flashed across Eostre’s face too quickly for him to identify. “It’s you.” Her eyes wide, she brought a trembling hand toward her face, resting her fingertips against her lips. “Loki’s lacy panties. Can it really be?”

“It was an accident.” Destiny held her hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean for him to?—”

“It’s not her fault.” He stepped between the goddess and his angel. His angel. He liked the sound of that. “Whatever you’re here to accuse her of, she didn’t do it. She wouldn’t hurt a flea.”

“Destiny is awry,” Eostre whispered.

They all stood in silence for a moment. Destiny stepped out from behind him, but he stayed close by her side, instinct telling him to protect her at all costs. But protect her from what? Eostre was the goddess of spring. What beef could she possibly have with an earthbound angel?

“Do you believe us now, Pete?” Sophie asked.

Eostre closed her eyes for a long blink before squaring her gaze on Sophie. “What does he not believe? I need to know what’s going on immediately.”

Destiny cleared her throat. “He’s forgotten he’s the Easter Bunny, and it’s my fault.”

“Forget the past.” Eostre turned to him. “It’s just as I feared.”