Bloodstone (Talisman)

Home > Other > Bloodstone (Talisman) > Page 33
Bloodstone (Talisman) Page 33

by S. E. Akers


  Ms. Fitz handed me my room key. “So, what do you think of the hotel?” she asked as she guided me toward the elevators.

  “It’ll do,” I teased with a sharp eye roll. “I didn’t realize we’d be staying someplace like this.”

  “I didn’t either, but Malachi Xcavare owns the hotel,” Ms. Fitzpatrick revealed.

  I stepped into the elevator, now somewhat annoyed. It figures…

  The grandness of my boudoir-like suite made up for any irksome vibes. I found myself in the middle of a tranquil sea of soft ivories and soothing golds. There were fancy antiques and frilly touches everywhere. Even the curtains looked like expensive, designer ball gowns. An angelic arrangement of fragrant white roses sat on a scrolly coffee table in the center of a spacious sitting area. I ran my hand across the back of a velvety-soft settee as I worked my way around the room. Two sumptuous, queen size canopy beds commanded my attention immediately. The lavish and luxurious looking ivory and gold linens almost took the sting out of who would be sleeping beside me.

  “Me first,” Kara hollered as she raced into the bathroom and slammed the door. I shook my head. This wasn’t my first time of having to hurry to get ready because of a bathroom hog.

  I ran over and flung myself onto the bed. It took a solid three seconds to sink down into the mattress. Twenty-minutes should do, I mused as I got all cushy-cozy. That’s all I need.

  “It’d be a shame for her toothbrush to have an unforeseen accident…if you know what I mean?” Katie posed.

  “Gross,” I giggled.

  An hour later, I was banging on the door. “Time’s up,” I yelled through the heavy wood slab.

  Kara jerked it open. Red hair aside, I swore I was staring at Chloe. “I still have to do my make-up!” she fussed.

  I marched past her and threw her cosmetic bag out of the bathroom. “Do it out there,” I snapped and slammed the door. I realized what had taken her so long as soon as my eyes fell on the shower. I touched the “ON” button on the high-tech computer display and then let out a long whistle. A shower about the size of my bathroom at home was shooting out water from all directions. I counted eighteen heads placed strategically all over its glistening, glass tile walls. I pressed another curious button on the display. Suddenly a screen recessed in the ceiling illuminated an explosion of colorful lights. The last button I pressed sent music pumping through several speakers mounted inside the watery sanctuary. I pulled Kara’s iPod out of the nearby dock and replaced it with mine. I thought a little Katy Perry was in order. Hot and Cold seemed like a fitting choice.

  Now that’s cool… Make that thirty minutes.

  Toweled up and feeling the cleanest I’d ever felt in my life, I opened the door to grab my clothes. Kara rushed in and about knocked me down.

  “Finished?” Kara huffed. “You know, some of us care how we look.”

  I grabbed my purse and stormed out of the bathroom. Correction, Chloe times ten.

  Kara stuck her head out. “I hope you packed something other than your usual ripped jeans and faded shirts,” she snarled. “We’re going someplace nice.”

  I kept my eyes narrowed as I unzipped my suitcase. I opened it in one dramatic flick and reached for one of the pricey tops from Snooty Hootie’s. I lifted up the one-shoulder, silk chiffon magenta blouse, making sure the Michael Kors label was showing.

  “Will this do?” I posed with a humbly sarcastic grin.

  As soon as Kara realized her mouth was hanging open a good foot, she clamped it shut so hard, the sharp “snap” of her teeth echoed throughout the room. She then stormed back into the bathroom and slammed the door, again.

  “Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to rethink the toothbrush thing?” Katie baited.

  “I don’t think she has any left to brush,” I giggled.

  After a sluggish elevator ride and a long walk back to the lobby, I joined our group by a massive, hand-carved fireplace. Now, the only ones missing were Heath and Tammy.

  “You look nice,” Ty commented, almost seeming stunned.

  “Thanks,” I replied with Kara in my peripherals.

  “I’ve never seen you this dressed-up before,” Ty added.

  “Sure you—” I stopped in mid-sentence and averted my stare. He actually had. He just didn’t remember. Awkward.

  I couldn’t help but become absorbed in Mike’s pacing. I thought he was going to wear a hole in several of the fleur-de-lis designs on the carpet. He finally charged over to the front desk and started talking to the concierge. Whatever the man said sure put him in a foul mood. Mike sulked back to our group and plopped down in a chair. His brainwaves were on fire, and I knew there was only one thing it could be.

  I overhead Ty ask him, “So? Is he coming?”

  Mike scowled and shook his head. “Something came up,” he snarled. “He’s checking his schedule.”

  Sounds like an orchestrated brush-off to me. I couldn’t help but be relieved for my hide and sad for Mike at the same time. I knew he wanted answers, but Malachi didn’t have them to give. He was looking for his bastard-of-a-son too.

  After several attempts on the phone, Ms. Fitz finally had to collect the two lovebirds and give them a personal escort down to the lobby. None of us needed three guesses as to why it had taken them so long. Tammy’s smeared pink lipstick and Heath’s misbuttoned shirt was enough writing on the walls.

  With our group now complete, we headed out the door and walked for several blocks through the French Quarter until we arrived at Broussard’s. I smiled as I strolled into the fancy restaurant.

  “This time I’ll ask what I’m eating before I take a bite,” I whispered to Katie.

  “Good idea,” Katie laughed.

  We were ushered out to their courtyard, where our own private buffet awaited. I almost lost my appetite when I was instructed to sit beside “my buddy”. Having to sleep in the same room with her was bad enough, but breaking-bread too? We’d never really been “friends” growing up, but I honestly didn’t know where all this friction stemmed from. To make matters worse, Coach Hayes plopped his rear in the chair on my other side.

  As I rose to fix my plate, Coach Hayes snapped his finger and said, “Hey, Wallace. Why don’t you fix another and bring it to me. It’ll be like we’re back home.”

  Kara snickered, while I shot him a blank stare. “That was rude,” I said rather gruffly, considering he was still the keeper of my gym grade.

  “I was just kidding,” Coach Hayes guffawed. “Can’t you take a joke, Wallace?” He smacked my back. “We’re in the Big Easy. You need to relax.”

  To my surprise, Mike, who was standing behind him, gave his chair a sharp bump. That sent the coach’s water all down his Hawaiian-print shirt and onto the crotch of his white linen pants.

  “Son-of-a—”

  “Sorry about that, Coach,” Mike said casually and threw me a subtle wink. He smacked his back. “Relax. We’re in the Big Easy. No one will notice.”

  I bit my lip and followed Mike over to the buffet. “Thanks,” I whispered to him as he handed me a plate.

  “That’s nothing,” Mike replied, just as hushed. “I snuck into his room and put icy hot on his towels earlier.”

  I muzzled my laugh. “You didn’t.”

  “Only ’cause Ty filled his shampoo bottle with ketchup and his jar of hair paste with mayonnaise,” Mike chuckled.

  “Juveniles,” I ragged with a grin.

  “We’re just getting started,” Mike bragged as he worked his way down the buffet, loading up his plate.

  Katie cleared her throat. “Now, see there… You need to get in the game!”

  Everything smelled and looked so delicious, I had a hard time deciding. I eventually followed suit with almost everyone else and loaded my plate with a sampling of every mouthwatering Cajun dish. I found a new name for heaven, and it was called jambalaya. I didn’t even care that there were crawfish in it. However, none of those little guys’ rosy-red corpses were getting anywhere near the bu
siness end of my mouth.

  During dinner, I couldn’t resist mouthing to Ty discreetly, “I know what you did,” and then motioned over to Coach Hayes with my eyes.

  The handsome jock grinned innocently and mouthed back, “What?” and then ran his fingers back through his perfectly styled mane, rather proudly. Mike knew exactly what we were talking about, so he started snickering too. Poor, unsuspecting Coach Hayes continued to stuff his face, completely in the dark. Kara, on the other hand, eyed our three-way exchange vehemently. She was dying to know what we were laughing about. That only made us chuckle more.

  Kara finally dropped her fork onto her plate with a “clang” to bust up our private party.

  Mike pointed to what remained of her leafy lettuce-only salad. “Kara,” he began, “We’re in a five-star restaurant…in New Orleans…and that’s all you’re eating?”

  Kara pointed to my plate. “All that butter and grease? Not hardly,” she affirmed. “I know where all that fat ends up.”

  Her aim couldn’t have been any clearer. I grinned back at her as I took another bite and savored it slowly.

  Just one more crack, Kara…and I’ll get Bea to manage your waist properly.

  Even though the pastry cart rolling by looked awfully tempting, I decided to take a pass. But not because of anything Kara had said (far from it). I was simply still on my sugary cheesecake/Napoleon/multiple beignets high from earlier. With most of our group dusting off his or her palettes with their decadent treats, I excused myself to the ladies room.

  “Kara’s bitchier than usual,” Katie claimed. “Hey — If you’re not feeling the toothbrush thing, I’d make sure her hand found its way into a glass of warm water when she’s good and asleep.”

  I let out a laugh. “That doesn’t work.”

  “Oh yes, it does,” she insisted. “I did it to Elizabeth when we were little.”

  “Don’t you mean, ‘Bethesda’,” I corrected and then gave the toilet a flush.

  “Ugh!” Katie grunted. “Don’t remind me.”

  I stepped out of the stall to find Kara sitting at one of the vanities, touching up her face.

  Crap! I thought I was in here alone, chatting out loud with Katie. I hurried to wash my hands.

  With her eyes only on her reflection, Kara said, “You should ask Mike for the name of his shrink…since you two are so chummy.”

  I whirled around. “What’s your problem, Kara?”

  “Nothing,” Kara replied innocently as she powdered her nose. “You’re the schizo.”

  My eyes narrowed. “You know—”

  Kara interrupted, “And here I felt sorry for you because you’ve been so alone, what with Katie…and then Ty.” She rose up with an arrogant air and strutted over to the bay of sinks. “I bet your imaginary friends are lots of company. Though guys don’t typically like to hang around crazy.”

  “No,” Katie laughed. “They just screw it and then lead it on.”

  Ignore her, I urged myself and squirted some soap onto my hands. Abruptly, Kara’s stomach let out a loud, rolling growl. I tilted my head down and grinned. Now that, I couldn’t resist. “Still hungry?” I posed.

  “Maybe that’s why she’s so bitchy,” Katie whispered. “She’s flippin’ starving!”

  “Don’t worry, Kara. Me and my ‘imaginary friends’ will get out of your way so you can refund your dinner properly.” I turned to her. “But you might want to reapply that lipstick after you do.” I waved my hand like I’d smelled something rank. “Maybe take a hit of that mouthwash over there too. And here I thought only the words coming out of it were shitty.”

  Kara’s eyes blazed. From out of left field, she turned off the faucet with a slam of her palm and charged, “You gave Ty that tacky rock around his neck, didn’t you?” and then flicked her wet fingers at me.

  My mouth fell open as I stared at the water spots on my new silk shirt. Now that flew all over me. I raised my head slowly and stepped closer. “And what if I did?” Straightaway, Kara grabbed a towel and dried off her hands, looking fit to be tied.

  “I just think it’s pathetic,” Kara grumbled as she stormed towards the door. “It’s like trying to tie a string around his finger, so he won’t forget you…Again!” With that crack, she pushed open the swinging door and strutted out of the room.

  My emotions got the best of me, or something did. Unexplainably, A breeze of air shot through the ladies room, straight towards the door, and gave it a hard push.

  I whirled around. Where did THAT come from? A loud crash coming from the other side of the door captured my attention. My hand flew up to cover my mouth as soon as I exited the ladies’ room. There was Kara, wide-eyed and red-faced, sitting rear first on the dessert cart.

  “You’re right, Kara. That stuff does go straight to your ass,” I said sweetly. I sauntered back to the table with a smile too big to hide.

  While we gathered outside the restaurant to wait on Kara, our chaperones seized this perfect opportunity to make a few announcements.

  “It’s come to my attention that some of you would like a little free-time before we head to the jazz club this evening,” Ms. Fitz announced. “You all can have one hour, but be back at the hotel by eight sharp.”

  “Or we’re leavin’ out without ya!” Coach Hayes barked. “And you’ll find yourself with a ticket home!”

  “And stay with your buddies,” Ms. Fitz added.

  As soon as our chaperones were well out of sight, Heath and Tammy jumped into a mule-drawn carriage (practically tripping over their tongues), Anna and Ethan grabbed a bench to route their course on a guide map, and Mike led Ty across the street to a check out a sports memorabilia store. Needless to say, Kara followed right on their heels. So much for the “buddy system”.

  Fine by me.

  “Do you want to come with us, Shi?” Anna asked. “We’re going over to the Riverwalk Marketplace.”

  I averted my stare as I mulled over their offer. Suddenly, a sign hanging over a shop down one of the side streets caught my eye.

  “Um, thanks, but…ya’ll go ahead,” I replied. “There’s a store down there I want to check out.”

  “Okay,” Ethan answered. “But it’s just a couple of blocks from here if you change your mind.”

  Once they had headed off on their merry way, I turned and started down the dark and bumpy street.

  “What are we shopping for?” Katie asked. “A muzzle for Kara?”

  “Sounds tempting, but no. There’s a voodoo shop up ahead. I want to get Bea a doll.”

  “I don’t know,” Katie pondered. “A muzzle would make a nice gift for her too.”

  “You’d like that wouldn’t you?” I posed.

  “Among other things,” Katie hinted.

  A weathered piece of wood was swinging from a wrought iron hanger above the door. The sign itself was hard to miss or ignore. It featured a sinister-looking skull with a ghastly serpent winding through its sockets.

  Ms. Lá Léo’s

  House of Voodoo

  Buyers Beware

  A couple of tourists wearing matching “Who-Dat?” t-shirts were huddled in front of the door. I heard the man say, “I guess they’re closed.”

  The woman yelled, “Bang on the doour,” in a heavy northern accent. “Y’ull never know fa shure till yoou doo!” The man rapped on the black-lacquered door with his knuckles. No one came. The mouthy woman turned and stormed back down street. “Yoou can’t doo anything right, can yoou, Martin?”

  “No, honey,” the man groaned. He shook his head as he walked past me and remarked, “Nothing but marrying you.”

  “Struck out again,” Katie remarked.

  I peered through the dingy glass windows, still hoping to see any signs of movement. I did catch some traces of light shining. “I guess,” I replied, dispirited. I wrapped my hand around the knob, needing my own confirmation, and gave it a quick twist. To my surprise, it opened. I wasn’t sure why it did, because it clearly wasn’t cast of brass. That, howev
er, wasn’t the strangest thing…not by far.

  Chapter 13 — That Voodoo You Do

  Clove scented air wafted through the crack in the door. Automatically I paused, partly to see if the Yankee couple had noticed my good fortune, but mostly because I felt something downright commanding. Like starting an engine, a wary feeling began to churn my senses. It was subtle enough that I wasn’t overly alarmed, but it still reverberated a cautionary vibe.

  “Katie, I got the door open,” I whispered, probing for some reassurance.

  “What are you waiting for? Go on in,” my sidekick urged.

  “Umm… Maybe we should get her one somewhere else.” I wasn’t even inside yet, and the daggone hairs on the back of my neck were at twelve o’clock.

  “You may not get a chance later,” Katie argued.

  “I know, but —”

  “Ugh!” Katie grunted. ‘But’ nothing… It’s just a store.”

  Quietly, I peeked through the dingy glass, trying to make out as much as I could. “Yeah, I know, but—”

  “Is your watch glowing?” Katie cross-examined.

  I looked down at my wrist as I tightened my grip on the crystal knob. “No,” I admitted, still in stall-mode.

  “Then what’s the problem?” Katie groaned.

  I stepped back to survey the front of the store. The paint was peeling off the door and cobwebs stretched across all the windows. A set of wind chimes was dangling from a hook above my head. I’d eaten enough KFC in my lifetime to know that those brownish skeletal remains were real chicken bones.

  “It’s just…creepy,” I assessed with a slight shudder.

  “Oh, they have to make it look that way for the tourists. You know, for the draw-factor,” Katie contended. I guessed being the daughter of a storeowner made her an authority.

  “Yeah, but you’re not seeing or feeling what—”

  “Look… Your little alarm clock isn’t going off, and you said yourself that Bea might be pissy for bringing me — even though I think she was way out of line. Just go in there and get her a witchy souvenir to make up for it. Get her one so you’ll feel better. Please?” she pleaded. “I’m on a VACATION. I didn’t sign up for a tour on one of your guilt-trips!”

 

‹ Prev