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hoping she encountered the new American again. If he had settled a land grant, he would be in town often, no doubt. She reached to pet Ham's furry head. "Was he handsome, Ham? Was he?" She sighed at the absurdity, realizing of course such a detail could hardly matter to a blind person.
    Across the road, the two men who'd observed the entire episode exchanged relieved glances. They were glad to see Nolte and Sebastian depart. M. Deubler wouldn't pose much of a challenge, but those two young adventurers would have been another matter.
    The last thing they wanted was a run-in with Nolte.
    The woman watched from behind these men in a carriage, her gaze filled with intense emotions and her heart pounding with anticipation. She might have left Jade Terese Devon to go through her miserable life blind, except for the repeated nightmares plaguing her sleep. These nightmares revealed the young lady miraculously had her sight restored. She would take no chances.
    The young lady, she suspected, would make a fine whore anyway—the thought kept making her smile. Charmane, an old friend, had strict instructions for Jade Terese. Charmane could use the girl's dead servant to force obedience and perhaps employ the potion to start. Don Bernardo himself would be her first patron. It would be many years before Jade Terese felt the sun on her face, and by then it would be too late.
    Jade Terse Devon, New Orleans's finest whore ...
    She felt a heady rush of sensation, a heightened sense of her powers. She had waited such a long time for this. The voices of the dead whispered to her, rushing to where the circle had been drawn, gathering in the spot.
    Perhaps she should do something for Mother Francesca as well. Something that would tease her fears and form her nightmares. She deserved it! A hanging present ...
    The old maid might be just the thing.
    Monsieur Deubler and Jade Terese strolled through Vieux Carre, passing the old Spanish Barracks, recently converted into a well-frequented cabaret that served both white and colored. The crowd was thick along the bar, then broken into clusters around wooden tables where cards shuffled back and forth among players. Gay piano and violin music sounded in the din of laughter, shouts, and conversation. The sounds poured out from the open doors, where men gathered too, squatting on their haunches, playing games of dice. The air filled with the scents of tobacco smoke, spirits and fried shrimp. From these telling signs, Jade Terese knew the exact number of steps to her front door behind the convent on Basin Street.
    Their voices rose as Monsieur Deubler and Jade sang favorite arias from the opera as they strolled home. Jade's hand rested lightly on his arm, while the other hand held tight to Hamlet's lead. Her laughter rang sweetly in the moist night air. She occasionally interrupted her friend's song to supply the correct words, though her thoughts kept returning to the earlier encounter with an American named Victor.
    He had been so engaging and charming and ... well ... something! Her inexperience prevented her from the immediate understanding most women had when meeting Victor. She settled for the descriptive words: intriguing, somehow exciting and interesting, but these words felt entirely inadequate.
    Still counting her steps, she stopped. "Shhh." She motioned. "We must be quiet now. The convent is just ahead and the good sisters will be sleeping. Let's go the back way around. I fear the mud's too thick to pass in front anyway."
    Monsieur Deubler made no response at first. He stared at the oddity in their path. A dead fish surrounded by a circle made of some kind of white powder and—Mon Dieu! What was that? It looked like some kind of heart.
    Jade sensed something amiss. She went very still and asked, "Is something wrong?" "No, nothing," he assured her, relieved that she could not see the grotesque configuration.
    He shook his head. These voodoo practitioners! Imbeciles! Something must be done. He would