2 Hungry, Hungry Hoodoo

by Liz Schulte

  Femi bared her teeth. “That’s one.” She flicked up a sharpened fingernail.

  “I can track her if I have something of hers,” I explained.

  Baker shook his head. “Not a chance. You trying to get me bumped off? First off, no one breaks in there who doesn’t have a death wish. Second, if Toinette doesn’t want to be found, you ain’t gonna find her through magic. Third, there’s no guarantee where any of the stuff in there came from or what it could lead you to.”

  “And you honestly think anyone around here is going to tell us anything?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “Watch and learn.”

  Baker morphed into Toinette right before my eyes, even down to the clothing. He winked and sashayed up the porch steps before ringing the doorbell.

  “Mama Toinette,” the woman who answered the door said, looking a little frightened. “Do you want to come in?” Her voice was practically shaking.

  “No, child.” He even sounded like her. “I’m feeling a might dizzy. Would you mind walkin’ me home?”

  Her eyes grew to the size of beach balls. “To your home?”

  Baker nodded.

  “Umm, here, sit down.” The woman offered the chair on the porch. “I’ll get my jacket.”

  When she was gone, Baker looked back and grinned in a way that made Toinette’s face appear sinister. I shuddered. “That’s creepy, but amazing.”

  “Shape-shifters have it so easy,” Femi said, rolling her eyes.

  The woman walked Baker to a cemetery while Femi and I trailed behind a respectable distance away. By the time we made it to the cemetery gate, she was gone and Baker waited for us, looking normal.

  “Wouldn’t take me past the gates,” he said. “She was tad jumpy.”

  “Toinette lives in a cemetery?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Maybe that’s just what she wants people to think. Who knows?”

  “Well, what are we waiting for?” Femi scaled the gate that was more than twice my height like it was nothing.

  “She did that in heels,” I said.

  Baker laughed. “You want a boost?”

  I gave him a look. “I don’t climb fences.” I focused on the lock until there was an audible click. Baker and I found Femi lounging on top of a grave. “Will you get off that?” I hissed.

  Femi looked around. “Why?”

  “That is someone’s grave.”

  “They’re dead. I don’t think they care.” Femi hopped down. “Toinette,” she bellowed, cupping her hands megaphone style around her mouth.

  Baker leaned against the gate, watching with obvious amusement. Irritation flared in me. I needed Toinette to help me, not to be offended by the company I kept.

  “Who’s hollering? You’ll wake the dead.” Toinette came around a tombstone fifty feet away.

  “Found her,” Femi said.

  I groaned and walked to meet the older woman. “I’m sorry about that—and even more sorry to bother you on your,” I looked around, “day off.” Her eyes weren’t milky and blind as they were before. What was going on? “What happened to your eyes?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  “Have you come to pay the price?”

  “No. I used it on the wrong person. May I please have another gris gris bag?”

  She looked at me until I squirmed. “I warned you not to waste it.”

  “I know. I thought I had the right person. Edith even attacked me, but it wasn’t her. I did what you said and nothing happened.”

  She took my hands and shook her head gravely. “I cannot give you another. The cost is too great for you to bear.”

  “I don’t care what the cost is,” I said, and it was true. Even if it cost my life, at least I would be able to save Devin and Cheney before I went. “Please.”

  She looked up at the sky and muttered to herself. “Okay. But I will come for you. The spirits will have to be appeased. I don’t know what they will require, but it will be no small task. If you do not uphold your end of the bargain…” She shook her head and rested her hand on a tombstone.

  I bit my lip but forced a smile. “Thank you.”

  “Follow me.” She led me up and down so many rows of graves that I had no idea how to get back. We finally stopped in front of an ancient, battered crypt with crumbling stonework. I shuddered when I saw a hole in the side of the structure that could only be a doorway to the inside of the tomb.

  I steeled myself, ready to enter if that’s what she demanded. She stooped down and picked up a chipped piece of the wall. “Give me your arm.” She pressed the rock hard into my forearm and pulled it all the way down to my wrist. A paper-thin trail of blood was left in its wake. She then smashed the stone of the tomb and picked up the small piece that chipped off. She rolled it in the blood on my arm and placed it in a sack she had around her neck.

  She led me around the cemetery, collecting a bizarre assortment of items. When she was pleased with the contents, she pulled the drawstring closed and pressed the bag to her lips, whispering in a language I didn’t understand. The wind picked up, blowing my hair into my face. Gray clouds rolled in. I struggled to listen to her.

  She pressed the sachet into my hand. “The same as before. A third gift is not possible.”

  I swallowed. “I understand. If all goes well, Cheney and I will be back tonight for you to break the bond. Is that okay?”

  “Yes. Meet me here before 2:00 a.m.—not a moment later.”

  “Okay.”

  Her head jerked to the left, as if she’d heard something. “Go now. Quickly, before they can claim their price,” she said, pushing me away.

  I walked away, hoping I was going in the right direction. I felt eyes on me, but every time I turned around, nothing was there. I picked up my pace, ignoring the chill on my neck. I was nearly running by the time I made it to the main row. Baker and Femi were in sight, but whatever was behind me felt like it was breathing on my neck. I started to sprint. I didn’t stop when I got to them, just continued right out the gate. As soon as both feet were on the other side of the boundary, everything quit. The wind stopped whipping around me. The sky was blue and cloudless again. I looked back as Baker and Femi made their way toward me. “What’s the rush?” Femi asked. “Did you get what you came for?”

  “I got it,” I said weakly. I got it and maybe more than I’d bargained for.

  We found Olivia and Holden standing together, laughing on the beach in front of Edith’s house. Holden spotted us first.

  “You want me to charm your grandmother?” His voice was the most animated I’d ever heard it.

  “If you can.” I rubbed a hand over my face. “She’s powerful. Don’t turn your back on her or let your guard—”

  Holden held up his hand. “I got this.”

  I shook my head, wringing my hands as he ambled toward the now windowless house with foundation problems.

  “Don’t be nervous. Holden won’t hurt her,” Olivia said.

  “I’m less worried about him hurting her than I am about her hurting him. Last time I talked to her, she gave me a concussion.”

  Olivia brushed a piece of hair out of her face. “Is it wrong that I sort of hope she gets the upper hand?” She laughed and I looked at her in shock. “He heals fast. He’ll be fine. It will be too much fun to tease him about for the next hundred years or so. But if she does hurt him, we better get inside quick.”

  Olivia and I joined Baker and Femi, who were watching the house, and I felt the relief of Cheney being near before I saw him.

  “Sorry I’m late,” he said, kissing me on the cheek.

  A few minutes later, Holden came to the door and waved us inside.

  “Whoa. You really did a number on the house this time, didn’t you?” Cheney said as we walked up the steps.

  I was about to answer when I remembered that he said he had come by Edith’s house, but I wasn’t there. If he came after I talked to her last time, he would’ve already seen it. I frowned. Maybe I was overthinking it, and
even if I wasn’t, this was the least of my concerns. “Yeah, I guess.”

  We all squeezed into the small living room. Holden sat between my grandmother and Olivia, scowling as Edith rubbed his leg. Baker leaned against the fireplace, and Femi and Cheney took the chairs while I paced.

  “What is she doing here?” Edith asked when she finally noticed I was in the room.

  “Selene has some questions. Could you answer them for her?” Holden said in a bored voice.

  Her eyes narrowed, but she nodded.

  “Did you curse me?”

  “I helped. It was the least I could do.”

  “Who did you help?”

  She pointed directly to Cheney. “Him.”

  Everyone went still.

  “Shh,” Holden said, touching her forehead. Edith lulled back on the couch, asleep.

  Holden moved away from her and seemed to shake off whatever he’d been doing.

  “Cheney?” I said.

  He shook his head. “I have no idea what she’s talking about. I didn’t return that night. I wouldn’t have risked exposing where you were.”

  But this was twice that she’d said he had been there, and this time I was pretty confident she was telling the truth. Cheney had been acting odd recently. He said he’d visited the house but acted like he hadn’t seen it. He was withdrawn and removed.

  “What are the chances she wasn’t telling the truth?” Olivia asked Holden.

  Holden shrugged. “It’s like being drunk. You lose a lot of inhibitions, but if she’s been lying to herself long enough to believe her own stories, anything’s possible—including that she’d lie without knowing it.”

  “And he could be lying. He might’ve cursed her.” Femi stepped in front of Cheney.

  “It makes no sense for me to curse her when it would also harm me.”

  “True,” Holden said.

  My mind spun. Cheney may not have cursed me, but something was going on with him and I couldn’t continue to ignore it.

  “I think you guys are missing the obvious solution,” Baker said.

  I looked over at him, and he morphed into Cheney.

  “Blah, blah, blah. Elf things,” he said in Cheney’s voice. Then he winked and returned to his usual stocky build and red hair. “It’s easy enough to fool somebody.”

  “Yeah, if you’re a shifter,” Femi said.

  “Bingo,” Baker told her.

  “Do you know any shifters?” I asked

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “Not that you know of anyway,” Baker said. “Anyone can be a shifter.” Baker took my arm and pulled me into the kitchen. Then he morphed into me and walked into the living room while I stayed put.

  “What’s going on?” Cheney asked.

  “Baker just wanted to tell me something,” he said in my voice.

  “And prove a point,” I said, stepping out.

  Cheney looked back and forth between us and whistled. “So you’re saying it is impossible to find out who cursed her.”

  “I don’t know if it’s impossible, but it certainly isn’t going to happen today,” Baker said.

  I closed my eyes. Damn it.

  “Okay, well, we’ll keep thinking about this, but let’s finish looking for your friend,” Olivia said with sympathetic eyes.

  Everyone got up slowly, leaving Edith asleep on the couch, and headed out. Olivia pulled Cheney to the side and spoke to him in a hushed tone. Holden came over to me.

  “Your grandmother should wake up in an hour or so.”

  “Okay,” I said, but I was preoccupied watching Olivia whisper to Cheney. What was going on?

  “I don’t know if this matters to you or not, but she does care about you.”

  I finally looked at Holden. “Excuse me?”

  “Your grandmother. She cares about you.” He seemed so uncomfortable it made me uncomfortable.

  “She has a funny way of showing it.”

  “She thinks she’s losing you and it’s making her hold on tighter.” He cleared his throat. “I just thought you might want to know.”

  With that, he walked over and joined Olivia. Cheney came to me. “What was that all about?” I asked.

  “Nothing. We were just talking about the list. I’m going to go back to the castle with you.”

  “Why aren’t we helping?” I needed some sort of win today. I wasn’t going to let everything slip away without a fight.

  “They have it covered. Let’s just go back.”

  “Are you giving up?” My heart was breaking.

  “Come back with me, please.”

  “I don’t want to give up.”

  “What else can we do?” His eyes lit and turned hot. “I’m tired. I’m tired of fighting and surprises. I’m sorry you’re cursed, but you brought it on yourself, and now you’re taking me down with you.”

  He walked a few steps before turning around. “But that’s my own fault. Everyone warned me about you.”

  I closed my eyes. “I’ll go to the Office.” I fought the lump in my throat.

  “Typical. Running away as soon as I express anything negative about you. But guess what, you’re not perfect.”

  “I know I’m not perfect.” My voice shook, but I couldn’t stop it. “I know I messed up and I’m sorry. Maybe I can’t fix this, but that doesn’t mean I am going to stop trying. Help me.” I took his hand. “I’m sorry I ruined your life.”

  He yanked his hand away. “You really want to fix it, break the curse.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You haven’t even tried. Why the hell did you become a changeling? You’re supposed to have all kinds of power, but you can’t do anything. I don’t want to die. I have a kingdom to run. I have plans. Break the damn curse.”

  “I can’t,” I whispered.

  He glared at me. “How about this? I kill one of your friends every hour until you get off your ass and break the fucking curse yourself. You’re a witch and an elf. There is no way a little hoodoo should take you out.”

  “I know you won’t hurt my friends.”

  A slow smile spread over his lips. “Won’t I?”

  He disappeared and I stood in shock. What had gotten into him? Worry trickled in. He wouldn’t hurt my friends, would he? I transported to the castle and ran frantically from room to room, looking for them. I found Cheney with Jessica, Katrina, and Leslie lined up in his office.

  “What’s going on?” Leslie asked, her voice quivering.

  I ignored them and focused on him. “You’re scaring them. Stop it.”

  “You stop it.” He pulled out a knife. “Do I need to prove my resolve?”

  I rolled my eyes. “He’s not going to hurt you,” I told them. “You’re not going to hurt anyone—”

  He hurled the knife. It hit Jessica with a thump. She made a noise and fell to the floor. Katrina or Leslie, maybe both of them, screamed, but it barely registered. White-hot fury rushed through my veins and roared in my ears. I lunged for Cheney, clawing at his throat. “I’ll kill you,” I snarled.

  He laughed, infuriating me further. “You’ll only kill yourself,” he said, escaping my hold.

  Cheney drew a sword from thin air. I glanced around, but I had no weapons. The tip of his sword came so fast I couldn’t get out of the way in time, and it slashed my left arm. I growled and he lunged again. A sword appeared in my hand, and I blocked him with such force he stumbled back. He smiled wide and dropped his sword, but I wasn’t done with him. Cheney had been a pain in the ass since the first day I met him. Always fighting with me, always getting under my skin.

  I lifted him by the throat with my mind. I became a changeling to save this jackass and now he was killing my friends. He was no better than Jaron. Those endless conversations about how our rebellion was about the king and how Cheney would never get hurt, only to hear him talking about how he was going to kill both of them and take the throne himself. He had lied to me, lied to me for years, but even he never attacked my best friends. I squeezed
Cheney’s throat tighter.

  “Selene, let him go,” Katrina said.

  I ignored her.

  “Shit, Selene, I’m bleeding over here. Let him go.” Jessica’s voice came from the floor, startling me.

  I looked back at them.

  Leslie shrugged. “Plan B.”

  I released my hold on Cheney immediately. He fell to the floor, coughing and rubbing his throat. “It was Olivia’s idea. She could feel the power in you. I just had to get you to release it—but the only way I knew how to get you to act without thinking was to make you mad or scare you.”

  “So you stabbed my friend.”

  He gave me a half smile. “I have excellent aim.” He went over and helped Jessica up, pulled out the knife, and healed the wound.

  “So is that it? Is the curse broken?” Jessica asked.

  I remembered. I remembered everything. “I never gave Jaron my memories,” I said and sank into a chair, letting that night, the night my human parents, Jim and Laurel, died, replay in my mind. I didn’t know who or what killed them, but Cheney was right—it wasn’t me. I’d been out walking in the woods, thinking about the two men I left behind to become this. I hated being a child. It was degrading. But I had to perpetuate the illusion. I looked ruefully at the stuffed rabbit clutched in my tiny hand. Ridiculous. When I got home, dinner aromas—garlic and basil and fresh yeasty bread were thick in the air. Something felt off though. I wandered to the kitchen. A pot of water was boiling over, and a frying pan of tomato sauce was popping and spattering the stove. I stood on my tiptoes and flicked everything off, a bad feeling nesting in my stomach. I dropped the stuffed animal, Peter, to the floor and went to look for them. I found their bodies in the hallway, as if they’d been running away. They’d been mauled, but there were no signs or scent of animal—no sensory clues about the attacker of any kind—in the house. It wasn’t natural. My control slipped and I screamed. Old anger and resentment rushed back, and I ceased to see anything until Cheney appeared in front of me.

  That was the night I met Edith, but I didn’t want to go with her. I didn’t want to attach to another human, not when they couldn’t defend themselves against the fae, and I knew what happened to Jim and Laurel had everything to do with me. At Edith’s house I went to bed, still in shock, and the next morning I didn’t remember anything. I was just like any other human child.