Angel’s Promise by Aleatha Romig

Emma

Istared at the curtains, suddenly curious of the breeze, the first I’d felt here. “I want to understand.” I did. This wasn’t me pacifying Jezebel for my escape. The woman who gave me life was sharing with me, and I wanted to know how she’d gotten to this place in her life.

“Know that I’m not ashamed of my past, Emma. I’m telling you to show you that you come from strong genes. The man who fathered you wasn’t a good man, but he was powerful. He was a man who used people for his benefit. I learned from him. I want you to learn too.”

I nodded. “When did Isaiah Boudreau learn you were pregnant?”

“When it was too late for him to do anything about it. That doesn’t mean he didn’t try. He wasn’t alone. You see, his wife never conceived. She saw my pregnancy as a personal affront to her. Of course, Isaiah denied that he could be the father.” She placed her hands on the table and splayed her fingers. The multiple gems on her fingers glistened under the light hanging over the kitchen table. She moved her gaze back to me. “It was difficult to deny something witnessed by so many. Up until that point, I’d worked hard to become more than my mother. She was a good woman, Emma. Don’t think less of her because of her profession. Truly, it took me realizing that every woman sells her body. It doesn’t matter if she is born with blue blood or red, the color of her skin, the language she speaks, or the money she has. Some women complete that transaction once with vows” —she nodded toward my wedding rings— “others nightly. Your maternal grandmother accepted her fate. I didn’t. However, you should know, I considered options to terminate my pregnancy before I told anyone.”

I swallowed. “Okay.”

“That isn’t a reflection on you. It was a dark time. Not only had my body been abused, my dreams were shattered and scattered on Canal Street for everyone to see. The latter was the most painful. Through it all, I was all alone.”

“What about your mother?”

“She was no longer in this world.” Jezebel stared toward the window as a smile crept to her lips. “I decided to leave New Orleans.” She inhaled. “Even though doing so would have given the Boudreaux what they wanted, I believed I was without options. Then one night, Edmée came to me, telling me she was sent by the spirits.” Jezebel scoffed. “I’d lived my whole life in New Orleans, but I’d never believed as others did.” Her blue eyes met mine. “That night, I believed.

“That night Edmée explained to me what was happening and my role in the future of New Orleans. Not only my role, that of my children. She knew I had two babies inside me long before anyone else knew I was pregnant. She took care of me through the sicknesses, she taught me to listen and heed the spirits, and in doing so, she resurrected my determination.

“Because of her, I knew I’d survive, we all would. And then the warning came.”

“The warning?” I asked.

“The spirits warned her that Isaiah was a danger to my children and the fulfillment of the future she’d seen.” Jezebel reached for my hand on the table.

As hers covered mine, I realized that this time hers was the warm one. Her story had stilled my circulation. And even in the humid air, I was cold.

“I wanted to raise you, both of you,” she said, “but the spirits knew what was best. You needed to be safe. And the best way to keep you safe was to hide both of you and not let anyone know that I had two children. You and Kyle were born on the summer solstice.” A peaceful expression settled over her. “As you know, it’s the longest day of the year. The spirits believe in the power of the sun. Centuries ago, they worshiped the sun. It has long been the symbol of goodness, life, and positivity. You, Emma, were born first. You came into this world strong and vocal. I named you for the woman who delivered you.”

“Edmée?”

She nodded. “Yes, and your brother finally arrived just before midnight.”

I narrowed my gaze. “Kyle’s birthday is in February. I was born eight months later, in October. I realize the math never worked, but as children, we didn’t question it.”

“We believed that because boys grow faster than girls, it made sense to pretend he was older. I had the help of a young attorney. He forged birth certificates in exchange for other things. It stands to reason that even if Isaiah and Lilith didn’t know the date you were born, they’d be looking for a child adopted out of Louisiana with a June birth date.”

“Lilith?”

“Your father’s wife.”

I patted the gris-gris in the pocket of my slacks. “Was the necklace hers?”

“No. It belonged to your father’s mother. When I was young, she wore it with pride.”

I thought back to her story. “What did you exchange?” As soon as the question left my lips, I knew the answer.

“That is a story for another night, Emma. You see, every woman sells herself. After what happened to me, I decided that my commodity would help me prepare for now.”

“When did you change your name?”

The sound of footsteps quieted our conversation. We both turned as Liam and Kyle came down the hall toward the kitchen. My shock was visible as I took in the woman with them.

“Emily?” I questioned, scanning the pretty woman with long red hair. She was wearing a short skirt and tight blouse. What had my attention was the way she was clinging to Kyle’s arm.

Her smile seemed forced. “Emma.”

Letting go of Jezebel’s hand, I pushed back my chair and stood. My eyebrows knit together as I asked, “Why are you here?”

“We thought you’d still be sleeping,” Kyle said. “I guess there’s no time like the present. Emily, you’ve met my sister, Emma. Emma, you’ve met Emily.” He smiled her direction. “What you might not know is that Emily is my fiancée.”

His fiancée?

“You were with Ross,” I said, “the night he died.”

Her face tilted and her lips came together. “Oh yeah, I heard he died. That’s too bad.” She shrugged. “Taking pain meds after an earlier hit of Oxy...” She shook her head. “I thought he was smarter than that.”

“Oh my God.” I stepped closer. “It was you. You knew he had pain medication. You killed him.”

“Interesting theory,” Emily said. “Of course, I wasn’t the one to benefit from his death. That would be you.”

Kyle let go of Emily and walked past me, his shoulder bumping mine. “Your husband is the guilty party. I guess he married you for the same reason you married him.” He rubbed two fingers with his thumb. “Bet he knew you would inherit Underwood’s fortune.”

Ignoring Kyle, I looked at Emily. My thoughts went back to right before last Christmas when she and Ross were dating. “How long have you and Kyle been engaged?”

She smiled. “Over a year.” She waved her hand, the one with the large diamond. “Don’t try to figure it all out. I was doing my part for Mother, like we all do.”

“Mother?”

Jezebel’s gaze met mine. “They are to be married.”

“When?” I asked.

“Once everything is settled,” Emily said, “we’re going to have a big New Orleans wedding.”

“Settled?”

“You know, once Kyle and Liam are in control of the city.” She shrugged. “Kyle said we can have your house.”

“Kyle said what?”

Liam spoke. “Ramses destroyed your father’s home. It was nicer than yours, but they don’t mind redecorating.”

I thought about Rett’s house and his story about his mother and grandmother, how they worked together to decorate. “What are you saying?”

Kyle responded, “This is war, Em. Once it’s over, the spoils belong to the victors. We will be the victors.”

“Spoils?” I repeated. “You’re certifiably crazy. Rett’s house isn’t available to take. It has been in his family for generations.”

Liam had remained quiet, but as I turned his way, his gaze narrowed. I couldn’t describe the way he was looking at me. A chill scurried over my skin as the tips of his lips curled upward. “Kyle and Emily can have the house. I’ve been promised something else.”

“You aren’t getting anything of his.”

I turned to Kyle, hoping for some sanity.

My brother was no longer a part of this conversation. He was sitting in the chair where I’d been sitting, his hands on the table, whispering to Jezebel. He turned to me with disgust. “You didn’t take the pills?”

“No, I didn’t.”

He turned back to Jezebel. “Mom, we were wrong to wait to get Emma. She isn’t one of us. Ramses’s fucked with her” —he hesitated— “head. Leave the plans to me and Liam.” He stood. “She is...dangerous. Forget her. The spirits’ prophecy doesn’t need her to make it happen.” His volume rose. “We don’t need her. Our numbers are growing. Ramses doesn’t know how many of his men have turned. Soon we’ll have your city, Mother. I’ll lay it at your feet.”

“What is it with men and laying shit at our feet?” I asked.

Jezebel smiled as she stood. “You are both my children. The prophecy is that you will rule this city; you were conceived for that purpose.” She turned to the three of them. “You listen too much to folklore and fables.” She reached for my elbow. “Come, Emma. There is much for you to learn.”

“What did I misunderstand?” Liam asked.

We’d begun to walk, but she stopped. “Emma, show them your necklace.”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the gris-gris, opened the flap and removed the silver necklace with the jade pendant.

“So?” Kyle said.

“Emma, tell them who it belonged to.”

Looking up from the necklace, I turned to Kyle and Emily, both near the table, and then to Liam standing near a counter. “Jeza—Mother said it was my grandmother’s, my paternal grandmother.” I looked at Jezebel.

“Is this supposed to mean something?” Liam asked.

Jezebel smiled. “Yes. Start listening to the spirits instead of rumors and let me know when you have it figured out.” She turned to me. “Come, we’ll sit on the porch.”