Love & Omens Read online

  Love & Omens

  Crescent City Ghost Tours

  Carrie Pulkinen

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Love & Omens

  COPYRIGHT © 2019 by Carrie Pulkinen

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: www.CarriePulkinen.com

  Edited by Krista Venero Cover Design by Carrie Pulkinen

  First Edition, 2019

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Become a VIP Reader

  Also by Carrie Pulkinen

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  A crisp February breeze rolled down Frenchman Street, biting at Sydney Park’s cheeks. She flipped up the collar of her leather jacket and angled her face toward the sky, letting the midday sun warm the chill from her skin.

  Her phone buzzed on the table, and a text from Eric lit up the screen: Where are you?

  She replied Upstairs, and her coworker’s response came through as she set the device down: Coming up.

  Leaning her arm on the pink wrought-iron railing, she peered over the gallery at the activity on the street below. New Orleans tourists and locals alike bustled about, grabbing lunch or drinks and chatting before moving on to their destinations.

  Crescent City Ghost Tours held their weekly planning meeting over lunch at Dat Dog every Tuesday, and while the chill in the air sent most patrons indoors, Sydney snagged a table on the gallery upstairs, away from the interior noise.

  Her boss, Sean, had something important to announce to the group, and for once, she hadn’t seen it coming in a vision. Her family curse made surprises few and far between, and a little flush of adrenaline caused a bubbly sensation in her chest, a tingle shooting up her spine as she awaited the news.

  She inhaled a deep breath and let out a contented sigh, basking in the mix of cool air and warm sun as the jazzy music from a street band a few blocks away drifted on the breeze. A snare drum tapped out a quick rhythm, and a marching tuba, catching the sunlight in glints as its player danced, blew a deep bass while a trumpet blasted out the melody.

  She’d barely had a chance to take in another breath when her skin turned to gooseflesh. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and her peripheral vision took on a blue and gold kaleidoscope effect.

  Dammit, that feeling was short-lived. The mosaic pattern grew, tunneling her vision into a swirling phantasmagoria of cut glass, light, and shadow. Her perception of the real world disintegrated as a sinking sensation pulled her down the rabbit hole into a premonition.

  As the kaleidoscope in her mind’s eye cleared, she focused on her surroundings, taking in as much information as she could. When her brain tumbled into a vision of its own accord, she never knew how long she’d be under, how much time she’d have to figure out what the universe wanted her to know.

  And why it wanted her to know it? That was a mystery she’d never solve.

  Normally, when the scenery came into focus, the blue and gold stained-glass ring sparkling in her peripheral was the only thing distinguishing the life-like “Wonderland” from reality. This time, something about the vision felt…off…like it wasn’t fully formed.

  In her mind, she saw herself standing in a cemetery, her head bowed, a deep sob racking her body as Sean held her close to his side. Rows of above-ground tombs dotted the landscape, some standing five feet tall, others soaring to twice that height. A murkiness in her vision obscured the markers, and their forms wavered, making it impossible to decipher their exact shapes.

  A crowd gathered around a coffin, and warm, humid air pressed down on her, squeezing the breath from her lungs. Forcing herself to move closer in her vision, she rotated the scene in her mind so she could see her own face.

  Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks, following the paths of the others that had long since dried. Sean’s red-rimmed eyes flicked toward the casket, and he swallowed hard, shaking his head as he sucked in a trembling breath.

  She scanned the scene, searching for familiar faces, trying desperately to figure out who occupied the coffin in the distance, but the vision grew stagnant, the people blurred. She pushed forward, trying to move deeper into the cemetery toward the tomb, but an invisible wall blocked her path. The blue and gold kaleidoscope pattern dancing on the edges of her vision grew, encroaching on her view of the scene.

  “You okay, Syd?” Sean’s voice echoed in her mind as Wonderland shut down, jolting her into the present.

  Time behaved differently in her visions, and while her visit to the cemetery felt like it lasted a good ten minutes, her check-out from reality had likely stolen no more than a few seconds from her day. She blinked, shaking her head and brushing her dark hair from her eyes. Sean slid into the seat next to her, and Eric and Jason sat on the opposite side of the table.

  “Hey.” Sean rested a hand on her left arm and tapped two fingers against it. “Anything I need to know?”

  Though her jacket covered her Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland-themed tattoo sleeve, her friend’s gesture held the same meaning: a silent question whether her spaced-out expression was from a premonition or if she’d simply been lost in thought.

  “No.” She slipped her phone into her pocket as the server delivered their lunch order. “I’m fine…still processing it.”

  “Are you sure?” Eric pulled a knit beanie over his dark brown hair. “You picked a table on a windy balcony in the dead of winter. Seems more crazy than fine.”

  “Please. It’s sunny and sixty-three degrees. Don’t be a baby.” She snatched a fry from his plate and shoved it into her mouth.

  “Hey! You’ve got your own.”

  “I know.” She shrugged. “I’m getting even for last time.”

  “All right, kids, eat up,” Sean said. “We’ve got a lot to talk about, and my wife is so pregnant she’s about to burst. I could get called away at any second, and this is important business.” He smiled, but it didn’t mask the worry in his eyes.

  Even though Sydney had seen his kids—this one and the one who would be coming in a few years—in her visions, he’d been on edge since the third trimester began.

  That premonition had been a happy one. If all her visions went the way of the ones she’d had about Sean lately, her life would be a hell of a lot easier. Unfortunately, ones like the nightmare she’d just had always slipped in the moment things started running smoothly.

  “Still no visions about the actual birth?” Sean’s brow knit over his dark brown eyes, and she couldn’t help but grin at his new-father anxiety.

  Even if she hadn’t known him her entire life, his concern alone was enough to prove he’d be a great dad. His wife and soon-to-be daughter were two lucky ladies. “No, but everything is going to be fine. I wouldn’t have seen you guys a few years down the road
if there were going to be issues. Don’t worry.”

  His shoulders relaxed as he nodded. “The vision you just had…?”

  “It wasn’t about that.” She picked up her hot dog and took a massive bite. The savory flavors of Polish sausage and dill relish danced on her tongue as she stared out across the street and ran the premonition through her mind again.

  The coffin had been full size, so nothing had changed about the baby’s birth. But Sean had been there, red-eyed and sobbing right along with her. Whoever was going to die, they both cared deeply for the person.

  “So, what’s the news?” Jason bit into his burger and stared at Sean with wide, blue eyes.

  “Yeah, man. Don’t leave us hanging,” Eric said.

  Sean grinned. “We’ve been talking about expanding the business for a while now, and…it’s happening. I’m taking on a partner.”

  Sydney nearly choked on her Dr. Pepper, her quick inhale sucking the bubbles up the back of her throat to sting her nose. “Now? I thought you were going to wait until things settled down with your home life. You’re about to have a baby.”

  “I know.” He held up his hands. “But the opportunity presented itself, and I couldn’t pass it up. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think my awesome employees could handle it.”

  He had a point. They were more than capable of taking on a new tour or two, and Sean had been discussing it with her for months. But their conversations never alluded to him bringing in a new partner.

  She crossed her arms. “What’s this person bringing to the table that we can’t do on our own with a few extra guides?”

  “That’s the exciting part.” Sean’s eyes gleamed. “We’re going to start a line of tours that focuses on true crimes, whether they’ve left behind a haunting or not. People are mesmerized by the seedy underbelly of the city and all the gruesome things that have happened in our history: The Axeman, the Trunk Murders, the Vampire Brothers… We’ll guide them around the city to show them the locations of the crimes, and the tour will end at our new Museum of the Macabre.”

  “I like the way this sounds.” Eric leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “What’s going to be at the museum?”

  “Let me guess.” Sydney turned to Sean. “Murder weapons? You found someone who could get ahold of an actual trunk from the murder scene? An axe used by The Axeman himself?” Which, in all honesty, sounded pretty cool. She could get on board with this, as long as the new partner wasn’t an ass.

  “Exactly. He’s even procured a coffin dating back to the 1700s. We’re thinking the tour will start…”

  The guys continued the discussion, but Sean’s mention of a coffin had Sydney’s mind drifting back to her vision. She needed to go home and meditate on this, see if she could open the door and slip back into the scene. The only people who weren’t blurry in the premonition were herself and Sean, so that left the possibility of death open to at least five or six others.

  Then again, if the cemetery were going to be a stop on the new tour, they could have simply arrived during a stranger’s funeral in her vision. But that didn’t explain the obvious tears on her face.

  There was no need to panic yet. The grave could have been metaphorical. Sometimes her visions weren’t literal. They were occasionally downright strange, hence the nickname of “Wonderland” she’d given to them. Between the sinking sensation and the kaleidoscope patterns tunneling her vision, she’d always felt a bit like Alice falling down the rabbit hole when they started.

  She had time to figure this out. The weather had been warm in the cemetery, and according to the local weatherman, the current cold snap would last at least two more weeks. She’d put the pieces together by then.

  And who knew? Maybe this coffin was symbolic like the tiny one she’d flushed down the toilet in a vision she had as a teen. She’d been certain her purple betta fish, Hatter, was about to kick the bucket, when in reality, the coffin had been an omen, a sign of what would happen to her chemistry grade when she chose a Foo Fighters concert over studying for an exam. That trip to Wonderland had been blurry around the edges like this one.

  “Syd?” Sean nudged her with an elbow, and she tucked her hair behind her ear, nodding to feign listening. “You’re good with the extra responsibility?”

  “Of course.” She had no idea what he’d said, but she’d handle whatever it was. “Just tell me what to do, and it’s done.”

  Sean gave her a quizzical look before shaking his head. “Who’s on tonight?”

  “It’s you and me, right, Eric?” She glanced across the table, and Eric nodded.

  “Okay. He’ll be following the eight o’clock tour, and I’ll tag along too. Hopefully the merger will become official shortly after.” Sean looked each of them in the eyes. “Is everyone on board with this?”

  “Hell, yeah.” Eric reached across the table to fist-bump Sean.

  “Absolutely,” Jason said.

  They all looked at Sydney, and she swallowed. She’d heard less than half of what they said, but she trusted Sean to make the right decision for the company.

  “Yeah. True crime. Museum of the Macabre. Sounds great.” She flashed a small smile and stood to throw her trash away.

  “All right. Class dismissed.” Sean stayed in his seat as Eric and Jason said goodbye and shuffled inside the building.

  “I’ll see you tonight.” Sydney took one step toward the door before Sean stood and put a hand on her shoulder.

  “That vision you had…”

  She pressed her lips together and forced her gaze to his. “I’m not sure what it means. I’ll let you know if it’s anything important.”

  He dropped his arm to his side. “It wasn’t Emily…?”

  “No.” She shook her head adamantly. He’d already been through one death after a vision of hers, and she wasn’t about to let him worry again. “Emily wasn’t in it. She’s…”

  He held her gaze, his dark eyes searching hers.

  She couldn’t lie to him. Honestly, she had no idea what the coffin contained. Maybe it wasn’t even a body. Maybe it signified the death of the company if he went through with the merger. She’d have to do a lot more digging to find out, and there was no point in worrying anyone until she knew the whole story.

  “It’s not like last time, okay? I’d tell you if it was.” She’d seen his first wife’s death in all its horrific detail, and neither one of them had been able to stop it from happening.

  He nodded. “Thanks, Syd. And thanks for taking this on. I don’t know how much I’ll be around when Sable makes her appearance, but I know the company will be in good hands with you in charge.”

  “No problem. I’m looking forward to the challenge.” What on Earth had she agreed to?

  It didn’t matter. She could handle anything the job threw at her. Right now, she needed to figure out what kind of death that funeral represented and how she could stop it from happening.

  Chapter Two

  A smile tugged on Blake Beaumont’s lips as he stood on the bank of the Mississippi River, overlooking the muddy water. A white steamboat docked a few yards away added to the picturesque view of the Crescent City Connection Bridge illuminated against the dark night sky.

  The evenly spaced lights spanning the length of the bridge cast a reddish-gold glow on the water’s surface, and the smooth sounds of a street performer playing the saxophone echoed in the distance. A couple sitting on a park bench laughed behind him, the happy sound mixing with the faint music to create a soothing, welcoming melody all its own.

  Man, it felt good to be home.

  The February wind stung his cheeks, but he’d take New Orleans’ two weeks of fifty-degree winter over the months of frigid ice and snow he’d endured in New York. His time away had been a necessity, but he was home now and here to stay.

  He jogged across the railroad tracks and slipped his hands into his pockets as he crossed Decatur Street and entered Jackson Square. The plaza buzzed with activity as crowds gathered fo
r the nightly ghost and vampire tours, and psychics set up tables along the walkway, offering passersby spiritual advice and glimpses into their futures.

  Some of the fortunetellers in the Square had actual psychic abilities, while others relied on mentalism and a keen eye for reading body language to tell people what they wanted to hear. Who was who, he couldn’t tell anymore. He’d been away for far too long.

  He smiled and nodded at a woman with a floral head wrap and matching dress. Four-inch tarnished gold hoop earrings and a set of bangle bracelets clinking on her arm as she waved her hand over her crystal ball added to her gypsy-like appearance.

  If this venture didn’t work out, he might be forced to set up his own table and offer readings. He could don a wizard’s cape or some other ridiculous costume and amaze people with his ability to read the energy in objects, but therein lay the problem. His psychic power was dependent on customers actually having an object with them that he could read.

  Not to mention, the thought of putting his ability on display made his skin crawl. Once people found out what he could do, they wanted him to become some kind of freak show act, performing for all their friends. That, or they called him a scammer and a fraud. No thank you.

  His talent would better serve him on his current path, and joining forces with the most popular tour company in the French Quarter would ensure that path led to success.

  He spotted his old high school buddy leaning against the fence, and he lifted a hand to catch his attention. “Hey, Sean.”

  “Blake.” Sean pushed from the fence and sauntered toward him. “Glad you could make it.”