“Rags to riches is the phrase. Not riches to rags.” Purdue said to Mama May, forcing himself to smile. Maybe he just wanted to reassure himself. “You said it wrong.”
Mama May averted her eyes to the floor and didn't look back up for some time. “So I did.”
After a little rest, Mama May performed the same ritual, except this time, she used Jean's blood. He was far less hesitant about her cutting his hand. It was no different for him than a handshake or a pat on the back.
Purdue watched her predict Jean's future and overall it was a much less explosive session than his was. There was still blood drawn from a hand and Mama May staring into it as she told Jean what might be coming for him; but there were no warnings of dead men or of utter loss and failure. Instead, her words for him were much more optimistic by comparison.
“What you seek will not be easy to obtain.”
“I thought not,” Jean said with a snort, wincing a little at the pain coming from her hold on his hand. “I have been trying to get more pages of that book for years.”
“It will be difficult to get, but it will be found. Though your prize is more dangerous than you know.”
“I know all about the danger of that book, Mama,” Jean said. “Or do you forget that I've studied it for years?”
Mama May couldn't hear him, of course. She was transfixed on whatever images were passing through her mind. Purdue watched her closely, never taking his attention away from her. It had been upsetting being the subject of her premonitions, but watching it happen was nearly just as uncomfortable. There was something haunting about how she seemed to go somewhere else during her visions.
Where was she pulling these scenarios from? How was it possible for her to see the future? Magic, sure, but magic wasn't an explanation—at least not to Purdue—it was just a justification for something that shouldn't have been able to happen.
Mama May never erupted into fits of shouting and shrieking like she had with Purdue. When her visions ended, she gently released Jean's hand and went back to sitting down. It didn't seem quite as taxing on her as Purdue's had either. If anything, she was still recovering from what she had seen in Purdue's future.
Naturally, it just made him uneasy. There wasn't much worse than thinking your future was going to be full of loss and other horrible things, and it apparently was impossible to prevent. According to this old witch, he was fated for pain. Purdue had never been overly fond of the idea of destiny, even less so when that destiny was all about gloom and doom.
Jean wrapped up his own wound, seeming to be taking in what she had just told him. There wasn't much new information he could glean off of her, but as he had told Purdue before, he only liked entering into something dangerous if he had an idea of what he was in for.
Purdue silently wondered how many times Jean had let Mama May read his blood. How many different scenarios for his future had he listened to ... and how many of them came true over the years?
Mama May looked completely spent as they prepared to leave. Seeking visions of the future seemed more than a little taxing for the human body, and Purdue watched her wipe some of her own blood from her nose. He was tempted to pretend he could see the future in her blood like she could in theirs but decided against it. She didn't look like she was in the mood for any jokes, and frankly, he really wasn't either, despite his instincts to break the tension in the room.
“Thank you, Mama May,” Jean said, bowing his head. “We will take everything you said into consideration.”
“As you should,” she said from the table. “And you.” She pointed at Purdue. “You should heed my words most of all. If not, you may be very surprised by what is coming your way.”
It had been a depressing visit. Part of Purdue wished he'd never been brought there. He didn't want to think about all of the horrible things that were supposed to be ahead. Even if those things were coming, hopefully Mama May wasn't completely right. Hopefully Purdue could alter his fate now that he knew it was coming—whatever it was.
It probably wasn't likely, but when the time came, he would certainly try.
After leaving Mama May's, both Purdue and Jean felt a stifling need to take a breather, even for just a moment. Their visit with the fortune-teller had been more than exhausting. They sat on a bench across from a lively saxophone player performing on the street, his instrument's case at his feet to allow people passing to drop money into it. He was playing soothing tunes for a small crowd and the music seemed to wrap around Purdue, calming the anxiousness he'd been feeling ever since Mama May cut his hand. The sound of the saxophone was the only thing keeping him from breaking out into fits of panic. His apparent doom Mama May told him about was creeping under his skin.
Jean let out a loud exhale from beside him on the bench. “I have never seen Mama May get like that ... so worked up. Your future must have been bad, my friend. Real bad.”
“It sure sounded like it, aye. I'll lose everything ... a dead guy is following me...” Purdue looked over his shoulder. “Not exactly the most optimistic thing I've ever heard, to be honest. I was hoping she would tell me that I would die at the ripe age of one hundred and seventy-three, surrounded by my loving children and a caring wife.” Purdue snickered to himself at the thought of it. “Alas ... it seems that I'm not going to get my happy ending.”
“That is your happy ending?” Jean asked with genuine surprise.
“No,” Purdue said, still laughing. “I suppose it's not. Far too boring for me.”
Jean smirked with understanding. “Ah. Perhaps. Perhaps. I must say ... I was happy with what she had to say about me.”
“Of course you were. She made it sound like you at least have a chance to get what you want. If what she said about me was true, it's just about as hopeless as it gets.”
“Relax, my friend,” Jean said, putting a hand on Purdue's shoulder. “It is like Mama May said ... she never said her vision would happen. She only said that it might.”
“May,” Purdue cheekily corrected. “But she did seem rather certain about me and my future.”
“You are thinking about it too much. Keep doing that, and you will make it come true. What do they call it, self-fulfilling prophecies? If you think you are going to lose, you will start to believe that ... and when you believe it, then you will.”
Purdue tried to take Jean's advice. He tried to stop worrying about what could happen and focus on what was going to. They were going to Salem to acquire the rest of the pages. That's what he needed to think about. That was far more important than whatever grave possibilities had a chance of happening in the future.
Purdue let the saxophone lull his mind; he let the music drown out the words of Mama May. Unfortunately, even that beautiful music couldn't completely overtake the scared tones that she had been able to produce.
The flight from Louisiana to Massachusetts was insightful for Purdue. It turned out Jean-Luc Gerard made for an excellent travel companion. He regaled him with stories from his childhood in Haiti and his adjustments when he immigrated to the United States.
From there, Jean explained how he became interested in the supernatural. His curiosity with it started as a boy, being around voodoo and witch doctors that claimed to be able to harness natural magic. “They had real power,” Jean said. “It could not be denied. I saw it with my own two eyes that some kind of magic existed.”
Purdue leaned back in his seat, looking out the window at the clouds. “I've been all over the world. I've seen all manner of strange and impossible things in my travels. As awe-inspiring and mesmerizing as so much of it was, I don't think I'd call any of it magical.”
“That is because magic—real magic—has been twisted.” Jean made a twisting motion with his clenched fists. “By wizards throwing balls of fire.”
Jean explained how he had gotten the store, and explained that the book shop had been a challenge to open, but once he had, people flocked to it. Many of his customers were practicing witches, while others were just enthu
siasts and fans of the macabre who couldn't deny the authenticity of his store. His shop quickly gained recognition and a reputation as one of the best places to visit for anyone interested in witchcraft and the occult; and Jean was very proud of all of his store's accolades.
When he wasn't talking fondly about his business, Jean told Purdue all about the strange things he had seen in Haiti, or even in the basement of practicing witches like Mama May in New Orleans. He told him about the kinds of things that could only be called magic. Purdue wasn't sure if he believed any of it, but Jean was a fantastic storyteller all the same.
While Jean continued raving about his life, Purdue closed his eyes and thought about the logistics of this new venture they were on. His belief in magic aside, Mona Greer's book of shadows was a valuable historical artifact; even if that fairy tale about the book needing to be completed to reveal its secrets wasn't true. It seemed far-fetched, but he'd seen weirder things turn out to be very real in the past.
And that page had really been impossible to rip. There was no trick to it and no plausible explanation for it either. It was yet another thing that you could only describe as magic. Maybe magic was just another word for unknown.
Then there was, of course, Mama May. That was a whole other can of worms that he could not apply any sort of logic to. She could have been an amazing actress, but that didn't explain the feeling that came over him during her predictions. The best actress on the planet wouldn't have been able to conjure that haunting aura that filled that room.
Mama May had been genuinely frightened by whatever she saw in his future. To think that she could be so scared by something that apparently didn't involve her directly; she had just been a witness to his troubles, but that was enough to upset her. Purdue was usually an optimist about the days ahead, despite his dangerous lifestyle that often put him in harm's way. Those high hopes had been rattled just by the look in that old woman's eyes. She told him that his particular fate—unlike most people she saw—was unavoidable, and he lived his whole life liking that nothing was unavoidable.
There was always a way out. There was always a loophole. There was always an answer to any problem. He just had to figure it out and it would work out. The only issue with that was that Mama May hadn't been remotely specific about what exactly the problem he was going to face was.
All he knew was it was some mysterious doom waiting for him. Whatever it was involved a dead man following him and would end with him losing everything. It was all rather dire, and he hated thinking such depressing thoughts.
How could anything be truly fated to happen? There were too many factors that could change anything. He could turn the jet around right now, and he expected Mama May to tell him that he was still destined for such horrible things. He could cut himself off from the world and live as a hermit on some mountain somewhere ... was he still going to be doomed? Was the dead man going to follow him in the middle of nowhere?
It couldn't be so set in stone. It couldn't.
Besides the unfortunate and vague prophecy that he couldn't quite scrub out of his mind, Purdue was pleased with the progress he had already made in his quest for Mona Greer's book of shadows. He was especially pleased with the new ally he had made. He would have been happy enough to buy the book off of Jean but was glad the occult expert wanted to work with him. Jean was already essential to have by his side on this type of hunt. He was far better versed in all of the stranger parts of history—the things that Purdue never really concerned himself with. Jean's occult-encyclopedia brain had already been a huge help and would continue to be in their attempt to complete the book of shadows.
The biggest obstacle ahead of them was whoever this Felicity Perry was. If she already collected so many of the pages, like Jean said, then that could accelerate the whole search immensely if she cooperated. They would have most of the book within days rather than having to run around looking for each and every page for what could be months. Unfortunately, it also meant that this quest depended on acquiring something that someone else already found. If Felicity Perry refused to sell them the pages or work with them like Jean had, they were stuck, since Mona Greer's book was useless without all of its contents. Their hopes of completing the tome would end right then and there.
Purdue wasn't too concerned about it, though. Jean might know a lot about witchcraft and magic, but Purdue knew all about charm and persuasion. He could convince Felicity Perry to turn her pages over to them. If charm didn't work, he could offer an absurd amount of money like he had with Jean. There were few people who could turn down the kind of money Purdue could offer them. Almost no price was too big, especially if meant adding something truly priceless to his collection.
Purdue settled into his chair, getting even more comfortable.
They would get those pages, no matter how much it cost.
Jean stared out the window of Purdue's private jet. It was the second time had ever been on a plane. The first was when he left Haiti, putting his old life behind him to soar to a hopefully better future. He had found that future in New Orleans, and he had built it for himself. Now he was taking a break from that better life to take part in a possibly pointless search that could end up being fruitless. Although, even if it was a fool's errand, he would not come away from it with nothing.
No, he would still have the check Purdue had written him—the ten million dollars that the rich adventurer was giving him. That alone would make this all worth it, whatever the result was.
Jean peered out to the sky and imagined all of the ways he could use that money. He could start by renovating the shop, expanding it even. He could afford a nicer place to live too; perhaps a studio loft in the French Quarter. Most importantly, he could send money to his family still in Haiti. He could even help them move to the United States or anywhere else they would prefer to live. They could start over and begin new, better lives just like he had done after leaving home.
All of it would be possible thanks to the man sitting across from him in the jet. He hadn't completely made up his mind about David Purdue yet. His intentions for the book of shadows seemed innocent enough, but it was hard to know for sure. Jean had been disappointed to learn someone's true nature before. He hoped Purdue would turn out better than some he had known before, and that he had finally found a true colleague to work alongside.
Then there was what he saw at Mama May's. Jean had listened to her visions dozens of times, but her meeting with Purdue was different to any of the others. Mama May was usually ambivalent to whatever she was seeing. She was nothing more than a witness watching from the sidelines but when speaking to Purdue, she was so frightened of whatever she saw.
But when she looked at Jean's future, his was far less traumatizing. So, whatever horrible thing was going to happen to Purdue was probably going to happen after he and Jean parted ways. Otherwise, Jean would certainly be sharing in all of that despair, and would also be being followed by some mysterious dead man. He was honestly glad to have a different fate than Purdue. He didn't want to lose everything he just gained.
As sorry as he felt for the possibility that Purdue had something horrible coming, he was relieved that his new partner wasn't going to meet a terrible fate just yet. His doom was going to be delayed and Jean appreciated every moment that it didn't happen while he was around. He wanted to be far away whenever it did. His new wealth would go to waste if he got caught up in whatever messy end was coming Purdue's way. Jean didn't want his time as a millionaire to be short.
Jean wasn't looking forward to what they were going to face in Salem. Felicity Perry hadn't made the best impression when she came to his shop looking for the page of the book of shadows he owned. She was furious when he declined her offer. She would probably say no to them just to spite Jean for refusing her before. It might be best for him to just wait outside, so he wouldn't influence Felicity’s decision.
Felicity was a practicing witch, and far more experienced with it than Jean. If he got on her bad side even more tha
n he already did, she would probably put some kind of hex over him. He hoped it would not come to that, but she seemed like the kind of witch who would do that over petty reasons.
Mama May had said the book of shadows wouldn't be easy to obtain and Felicity Perry was proof of that ... but the old psychic did say that it would be obtained anyway. So, at least he knew that their search would be successful ... although, she said it would be obtained, but didn't say who would obtain it. She just said that the prize for finding it would be worse than expected.
Jean hoped that she was wrong. It may not have been as cryptic and severe as Purdue's future, but he expected the prize to be great. There was no way that finding the rarest and most famous book of shadows would be anything but great.
Still, he spent the rest of the flight relieved that he at least had ten million dollars to make him feel better if things didn't quite go the way he expected. It was hard to feel too worried when you were a millionaire. He was just thankful for what he already had.
Finding the book of shadows was just something to check off his bucket list now.
6
LEADERSHIP
It was rare that another meeting of the Order of the Black Sun took place so soon after the previous one, and it was absolutely unheard of for it to happen the same day. Once again, anyone present gathered around and waited for the leaders to take their seats.
Unlike earlier that day, the leaders never came.
Sasha and Galen stood where they had in the previous meeting, far more nervous than they had been at the start of that one, before Julian's return. They had since seen the aftermath of Julian's slaughter in the conference room. Whatever this meeting was going to be about, it couldn't be good. Galen suggested that they didn't attend at all, fearing that Julian and his followers were going to massacre the rest of the Black Sun just like they had the old leaders.
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