“Fuck all that, Kirk!” Out of his mouth flung sparks. His irises were turning into what looked like glowing, melting gold. “He wants a Pharaoh fight? He just got one.”
Chapter
Seven
For the past three days, though Lisa was anxious and weary, she accepted each and every challenge, even if it meant attempting to fight the warlord Dior back on the mat that she dreaded to see. While battling it out for damn near sixteen hours a day, Lisa was forced to confess her drinking problem. She had to open up about her anger issues and her lack of self-control when it came to managing those issues. She felt that Jovan was a psychopath to get her to speak, but it was proving to be affective.
For a moment, Jovan had Lisa to sit atop a block of ice since she needed to “cool down” after she lashed out over her raw salmon lunch. Then, they had talks of the heart about how to breathe and focus on the bigger picture when it came to anger. Jovan even discussed with Lisa her own anger issues and how she was able to contain them.
The day prior, Dior meditated with Lisa so that she could travel through the dark corners of her own mind and accept some of the things she had yet to verbally confess. Dior told Lisa that the most vociferous were those who had too much to prove to everyone else, yet the confident seemed to be the most quiet and poised. They were words Lisa took to heart. Still, she wondered how someone so grounded and skillful could marry someone so dramatic and childish like Jovan Sun. But then, she thought of her own parents. The great, sweet white witch shared nuptials with the Boogie Man.
Jovan, daily, spitting questions angrily at her broken body was met with an answer, even though she didn’t want to give them. With each question and hurtful answer, Lisa became more and more aware of herself.
All until she kneeled in front of her honorary surrogate mother and was asked, “Whose fault was it that you awoke in a pool of blood?”
Lisa’s lips parted as her eyes slowly drew up to the inquirer who held a half-eaten green apple in her hand. Though Lisa was no longer hungry and submitted to eating raw fish, spinach and fruit for breakfast, she wasn’t ready to stomach the answer to the question she could’ve sworn wouldn’t have been asked by anyone. She was careful in her plight. She didn’t open her mouth to anyone about the pain. She didn’t make anyone aware of what was growing day by day inside of her.
Though it was a cruel question to ask, Jovan chorused with a grimace, “Whose fault was it that you awoke in a pool of blood?”
Lisa swallowed the answer she had been used to giving by now, battling herself with accepting the truth.
“My Angel.”
Lisa flinched, but was grabbed roughly by her jaws to force her to peer into Dior’s emeralds. “You had a blessing,” she hissed. “You were with child and said nothing. Why, Lisa? Speak up.”
“Whose fault—”
“It wasn’t my fault!” she cried, pulling her head away from Dior’s grasp with misting eyes.
“Whose fault—”
“It’s wasn’t my fault!”
“Whose fault—”
“Not mine!”
“You hate Robyn because she accepted her responsibility and her purpose.”
“It wasn’t my fault!”
“You run away from your purpose, which is what you’ve been good at. You can never accept responsibility for what you do, Young Pharaoh.”
“It wasn’t my fault!”
“It’s your fault you’re so weak. You’ve admitted that to me already. It’s your fault that you keep running. It’s your fault that you keep giving yourself away and pointlessly proving shit to other people, so now you have nothing further to give. It’s your fault that you have to have shit beaten out of you because you’re always fucking running. And it’s your fault that you probably will never conceive another human being who is destined to fulfill their purpose—”
“It wasn’t my fault!”
“—as your father fulfilled his—”
“It wasn’t my fault!”
“—your mother fulfilled hers—”
“It wasn’t my fault!”
“—and your brother has long fulfilled his.”
“It wasn’t my fault!”
“You are not a lost cause, Annalissa Pharaoh. You look me in the eyes and tell me right now whose fault it is that you had to be rebuilt. Tell me whose fault it is that you came to me in a pitiful, shabby mess. And you tell me who dishonored themselves with the nasty, dark thoughts you had before you awoke with those sheets sticking to you.”
“It’s miiiiine!” she roared with her veins poking the flesh of her neck. Lisa doubled over with her forehead touching her sore knees. “It’s mine,” she sobbed repeatedly, tapping her head against her knees. “It’s mine, okay?” Her body had gone numb. She felt as though at any given moment she might’ve passed out. The moment she looked up at Jovan, she could see a triumphant smirk on the woman’s rich, sienna skin. “I didn’t know what to do.” She squeaked at the end of her sentence. “I was lost. My family was famous for one reason or another, and then there was me. So, to be wanted by someone who I seriously thought wasn’t infatuated with me because of my last name, I jumped in head-first. Just to hear someone say they loved me, and the way they touched me, kissed me, lied to me, it felt good to have something of my own.
“But when I realized they were just lies, I turned to the bottle. What was I supposed to do?” she screamed. With the back of her hand she angrily, weakly attempted to rid her cheek of her tears, though they were still waterfalling from her eyes. “And then… And then, to find out that I’m carrying a whole other life inside of me by the person who broke me, what the fuck I was supposed to do? Teach them to live inside a bubble because of their bloodline? Pound into them that they have to carry burdens because of what their great-grandfathers set forth?
“I wasn’t married! I was already the fucking black sheep!” Lisa was crying so loud that she’d gone hoarse with her face obscured. “I couldn’t tell Dossier! I couldn’t tell my mama because she’s the fucking greatest white witch! I can’t tell my daddy because he’s the fucking king of voodoo, and my brother bridges the gap! A baby in the belly of an unwed, unhinged, confused and stupid little witch wouldn’t look so good to a family that most deem as fucking perfect!
“Purpose? That was my purpose, Jo? To-To-To just keep climbing inside a hole that I could never get out of when I was the one to keep fucking digging that hole even deeper? No! But then I realized I wanted it. I came to the realization to fuck everybody else and how they felt or thought, okay? I wanted my baby!” Lisa banged on her chest for emphasis. “But I guess that was in my purpose too, to wake up in the middle of the night with the bottom of my belly and flower on fire, climbing out of a bed full of goddamn blood!”
“It was my fault I lost my baby because I let the pressures get to me! It’s my fault I keep fucking up because I’m so worried about pleasing everybody else, while entertaining the fact that I’m so fucking incompetent, because I move too quickly to prove a point to my fore parents that I can uphold a fucking legacy that I didn’t ask to be a part of! And do you know what else? I despise my mama because she makes the shit look easy when it’s not! She never sat me down and told me to take my time. She never put her arms around me to tell me that this life was going to be full of bullshit and bullshitters! She always looked at me like I was better than what I was, which was a fucking lie, because every time I try, I fall flat on my fucking face!”
“Who are you, little one?” Jovan asked with her chin lifted.
“I am Annalissa Pharaoh!”
“We’re done here.” Jovan chimed. “Now that you’ve finally learned acceptance, look to your family for support to help you heal. It will take a moment, but with the removed poison we like to call denial, with my preaching to you about self-awareness, purpose and burdens, it shouldn’t be too hard for you to go through that process. Always remember that physical pain is matched with the emotional and mental. The same as the scars we’ve inflicted upon your fl
esh will heal, your heart will too. Nobody’s purpose, destiny and legacy matters more to you than your own. Lastly, feed your own curiosity, your own ambition, go out on a limb for you before you do it for anyone else. Take care of yourself. Take care of you. Honor your mother and father, yes, but show it by loving you and all that you’re cable of, even if you feel you’ve failed. Carry yourself with dignity, honor and pride. Lisa, I don’t give a damn if you do happen to fall on your face in an attempt. As my mother once sat before me and I kneeled to her, she told me as I’m about to tell you, the same as I’ve told Jovanna. If you fall, it’d better be the most beautiful, original, glorious fall any one has ever seen. In translation, be fly as fuck and don’t worry about how others feel. Pick yourself up with pride and try again, as long as you know for certain you’re giving whatever it is your all.”
There was a pounding at the front door just as Lisa lowered her head.
Jovan smirked, lifting Lisa’s chin. “We’re right on schedule, Ms. Pharaoh. Now, rise.”
Weakly, Annalissa rose to her feet on wobbly legs.
“Go and get the door.” THE
With her head down, Lisa took a step forward.
“Tut-tut-tut,” Jovan stopped. “We hold our fucking chins upward in this house; understand? You drop it, I’ll crack your goddamn jaw.”
With a deep breath, she rose her chin and tread along to the atrium where there was a single door in front of her. Uneasily she waddled over and turned the knob.
Before her stood her father in a dark gray V-neck shirt and dark colored jeans. First, her eyes met the eye of Horus symbol on his gold rope chain, then up to the eyes that matched hers. Lisa fell into his chest, being consumed within her father’s buff arms.
Gently, Pharaoh kissed his daughter’s bruised forehead. “Hey, my princess.”
“Daddy, she’s crazy.” She sniffled.
“I know, baby.” Pharaoh chuckled. “Trust me, I know.”
“Umm, you’re welcome!” Jovan shouted from the end of the hall. “Now that the hard part is over, David, you need to speak to her about her anger. I thee present to you, a clean daughter. It’s some shit you and Robyn could’ve done with family counseling, by the way.”
“Jo—”
“Fuck all of that! I’m disappointed in y’all too, but we’ll get into that later. I know y’all have work to do.”
“Jo, why don’t you come—”
“Mmm, demons and warlocks? Not my forte. I’m retired, Great Pharaoh. Wish I could rodeo with you one more time, but if you’ve noticed, my own kids aren’t home. I can walk around the house naked all I want. Helping you is tempting, but I’d rather play Dungeons and Dragons in my drawers. Now, both of you, get the hell on and save the world. And, Lisa, you remember what I said about anger, and you remember my lessons. Honey, you’re going to need them.”
“Thank you, Jo,” she weakly said.
“None needed.” Jovan winked just before there was a flash of red before Lisa found herself inside her father’s lair.
Chapter
Eight
She took a step back, outside of her father’s hold. She was no longer sore or bruised. She could hear the distinct sound of her mother’s voice, yet her ears perked when she could hear her big brother’s voice. On naked feet she took flight out of the room and through two other corridors before she reached the pair in the parlor.
“I am not putting my wedding on hold, mama! We will get this thing sorted out,” Moses complained.
Lisa wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, smashing her cheek against his ribs.
Moses stumbled forward before realizing that his sister was there. “Hey!” he greeted her. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I love you, Mo,” she returned with a shaky voice.
“I… I love you, too?”
Lisa opened her eyes to find her mother standing in front of the bay window with her arms crossed over her white peasant blouse. She heavily exhaled and rushed to Robyn for a much needed hug. “Mama, I’m so sorry. I was so ungrateful, so stupid, and so lost. I never meant to disrespect you, but I’ve had a lot on my heart that I was holding in and…” She pulled away with glossy cheeks. “Don’t you ever send me away to Jovan Sun again. That woman is bananas.” Lisa kissed her mother’s cheek, then bolted up the steps to what used to be her backup bedroom, for a shower and a change of clothes.
A knocking at the front door prompted Pharaoh to answer for his old friends. He introduced the group of five as the demon hunters to Moses and had explained the tireless work they put in to help the family in locating the potential area for all of the activity.
By the time Lisa galloped back down the stairs in a white t-shirt, a pair of overalls, and a pair of Skippy’s, the visitors were long gone.
Robyn decided it’d be best to eat as a family before they got to work. She even invited the demon hunters back, just to thank them for their work.
Seated across from her brother, Lisa thumped at Moses’s glass of lemonade, though she didn’t touch it. She just wanted to see if she had her magic back.
“Quit,” Moses said with his eyes on the fried chicken on the platter next to him.
“I just missed you, jerk.” She giggled.
“Yeah, I’m sure you have because you’ve been cooped up with that crazy lady.”
Lisa sighed. “Yes, she was crazy. But crazy like a fox.”
“They’re here!” Robyn exclaimed.
With the noise and laughter from the front door, Lisa was curious as to who her guests were.
“Thank you so much for the invite, Mrs. Pharaoh.”
That voice. It stung Lisa’s ear something fierce. Her heart dropped inside her chest when hearing it. Slowly she stood, anticipating her tall, brown skinned, ponytail-wearing admirer to walk right into the dining room.
Instead, an old tanned man, his wife, their daughter, and two young men came in, exchanging pleasantries with her family. Lisa eyed both young men, confused. Had she gone crazy?
The one with the slicked hair and prominent part, art inked all over his neck and forearms accidentally locked eyes with her. It had to have been his biggest mistake. Those eyes, his aura, and his voice lassoed her attention.
He cleared his throat. “Mama, I’m going to go into town for a drink. I heard—”
“You,” Lisa mindless mumbled.
All eyes had gone to her. It no longer seemed like a Thanksgiving-like gathering with the closest of kin coming in to give hugs and thanks before chowing down. Everything screeched to halt.
“Him.”
“Lisa?” Moses called his sister with concern in his voice. “Are you okay?”
“No.”
Kirko and Cinderella’s son made a dash for the door, but not without Annalissa following closely behind.
“Do they know each other?” Moses asked the others in the room.
“Knowing how Lisa gets around like her father, I’d bet money on the fact they do,” Pharaoh returned.
“It’s best we let ‘em sort it out,” Kirko added as he took a seat next to Moses. “He’s like his daddy, too. He’s gonna run her ass all the way up to the bayou before he stops and speaks.”
That, he did.
“You lied to me,” she managed through a shaky voice. She’d stopped him, spinning him around to face her by the shoulder of his white button-up. “Why would you lie? You, of all people, I expected to be honest with me.”
“If you saw me in your dream, looking the way I do, you wouldn’t have trusted me, alright? I gave you someone’s appearance that was more humble and more easily approachable.”
“Look, I have been beaten, I have been broken, I have seen things that women my age wouldn’t even dream of. But you think that if I saw you, I would run away from you like some child?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“What’s your real name?”
“I don’t think we should—”
“Your name!”
He d
eeply inhaled, taking his hand over his tattooed face. “Peresh. Peresh Northgate.”
Lisa squinted, sharply tilting her head to him. “As in… the Northgate Gypsies? The demon hunters and exorcists?”
“Yeah,” he muttered with his eyes on his boots.
“Why couldn’t you—”
“Why couldn’t you tell me about you?” He countered, returning a fiery gaze at her as he rose from the wall near St. Peter’s Bayou, just behind the old townhome. “You’re a fucking princess—”
“Did it matter?”
“No! Nothing ever-fucking-does! We had a cool arrangement where we could get away from every-fucking-thing that bothered us, including people who saw us as something or someone we weren’t. We could be us in a sense, without all that extra bullshit!”
“You weren’t you!”
“Did my face matter as much as your name?”
“Stop making it seem like my name meant more than your face! I was myself, one hundred percent, when I was with you, Peresh!” Her eyes pooled as a lump formed in the back of her throat. She hadn’t realized she was pointing a sturdy finger at him the entire time she reprimanded him. “We agreed to leave names out of it, why?”
“So that we wouldn’t be disappointed. But here you are, upset at me for giving you a face and body—”
“A whole other nationality, too! Don’t you forget that part—”
“—and you’re still damn disappointed. See, this is why I don’t fucking date. Nothing is ever right. Especially now that I know you’re the fucking Voodoo Princess.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means…” Peresh painstakingly closed the space between them. When he was close enough, he gently placed one hand on top of her finger to lower it, using the other to cradle her chin so that she could see right into his olive-green eyes. “…I’m a Gypsy. I’m nowhere near good enough for you.”
“Are you kidding? You’re going to stand there and tell me that because of your cultural practices, that’s why you’re not good enough? No, Peresh. You lied! You know how I feel about lying!”
Claiming the Voodoo Princess Page 5