by Amanda Rose
“Whatever.” Krim says just as Mr. cook goes to the front of the room and starts writing on the whiteboard. He is a balding heavyset man with dark skin, a bush grey beard and beady eyes.
History is even more boring than I remember or maybe it's the droning sound of Mr. Cook's lecture on the cold war. It doesn't take long for me to zone out and start doodling in my notebook. At first Zandor looks super excited to be in class but by five minutes in he's asleep. He's slumped over his head on his desk snoring loudly, but no one seems to notice. I glance at Krim silently asking what is up with that. Quickly, he scrawls something down on his notebook and pushes it to the edge of his desk, so I can read it.
It's an Illusion, only you and I can see the through it. And that's because he wants us too. His perfect penmanship makes mine look like chicken scratch.
He can do that in his sleep? I reply on my own notebook and when I'm sure Mr. Cook isn't looking I push it to the edge of my desk and let him read it. He snorts under his breath and shakes his head like I've just said something utterly ridiculous before he starts writing back. There is a ghost of a smile on his face.
You really are clueless, your majesty. I look up and narrow my eyes at him but his almost smile is just a bit bigger than it was a moment ago and I realize he's teasing me on purpose, so I let the your majesty comment go for now and continue reading his latest note. Zan might not seem like it but he is one of the most powerful loa on earth, and illusion is one of his strongest gifts. My grandma's cat who turned out to be a hot guy is actually one of the most powerful magic wielding spirits on the planet. I never could have seen this coming. Not by a long shot. I might be the Laveau, but this shows how little I actually know about any of this supernatural crap.
One of? What are the others? I let him know how surprising this information is by underlining 'one of' three times.
Transformation. Just one word this time. He pauses tapping the tip of his pencil against the paper before writing a second word. Prophecy.
Zandor Red is the Voodoo God of Illusion, Transformation, and Prophecy? I write just to clarify. I lean towards him to read his replay and the familiar leather and jasmine scent tickles my nose and I get goosebumps on my skin.
Basically, yes. His gorgeous stormy eyes go half lidded and the that stupid cocky grin that pisses me off so much is back. For some reason right now, it doesn't bother me so much. I find myself flirting with him, just a little more than I mean to.
What about you Kriminal Lacoste? What are you the god of? The ample muscles in his back and shoulders stiffen almost imperceptibly when he reads my question. I don't know what I thought he was going to say but I don't expect what he writes next.
Swift and final justice.
#
My sixth period class is PE, and it blows. It's by far my least favorite subject. My uniform hasn't come in yet, so I've been sent to get something out of the lost and found. My plan is to take so freaking long picking out something to wear that I can avoid dressing down all together. The other girls are gone including Hannah–I let her in on my plan to be a slacker and skip today's two-mile run– so I'm all alone. It's just me and a big box of stale musty old clothes. I drag it over, so I can sit on the bench next to my locker. Every few minutes or so I pretend to look just in case a teacher comes in to check on me.
“Well, this looks like a drag.” A decadently wicked voice purrs from behind me. I whip my head around Sam is standing there leaning a few yards away against a bank of red lockers looking sinfully sexy. He lights a black cigarette and saunters over to me. With each step the sound of his combat boots on the cement floor echoes around the empty locker room.
“What are you doing in here? This is the girls’ locker room.” I say as quietly as I can, looking around to make sure there isn't anyone in here to see me talking to imaginary people. As I suspected we are alone. It's just me and Samuel Baron, god of death, endings and … sex. Suddenly my skin feels flushed and our kiss starts playing on repeat in my mind. I stand up straight and look him in his purple gaze. I do my best to ignore the tightening in my lower belly.
“Kriminal texted me that you needed a ride, so I thought I could pick you up and take you home with me.” Sam says emphasizing certain phrases on purpose. He needn't have bothered; the sexual innuendo isn't lost on me. Samuel licks his lips and lets his eyes lazily peruse my body. I take one step backward and my back hits the cold metal of a locker. As he closes the distance and surrounds me with his masculine scent I have to look up to keep my eyes on his face and off his bare tattooed chest.
“I don't. So, get out.” I say as sternly as I can. Fortunately for me the tornado of hormones in my body stay contained and my voice comes out sharp and clear. Sam puts a palm on either side of my head. The lit cigarette resting between the finger fingers of his right hand.
“You don't what?” He says flirtatiously flashing me a confident smile. Why does he have to be so damn sexy?
“Need a ride.” I blurt without thinking. His eyebrows shoot up and his smile gets a little wider.
“Everyone needs a good ride now and again.” He leans down and whispers in my ear his hot breath teasing goosebumps onto my skin. My mind is scrambling for witty response to his obvious come ons.
“Well, I don't. I already told Krim I would call an Uber.” Wow, good one sera, super clever and witty. I duck under his arm and put a little distance between us. Sam makes no move to stop me, instead he just chuckles under his breath.
“I wasn't talking about riding in a car. I was talking about me riding you.”
Holy shit. I'd be lying if I said that wasn't one of the sexiest things I've ever heard in my life, but that doesn’t change the fact that not only did I just meet the guy, but he is clearly a player and I don't date or screw players.
“I'm not having sex with you today so if that's why you're here you can just leave.”
“Today, huh?”
“Ever. If you keep being so … intense.”
“Ah, now I understand. My overt sexuality is too much for you. You want something just a little subtler.”
“No. That's not what I meant. I–” The sound of voices coming into the locker room cut me off. PE must be over.
“Consider it done. From now I'll do my best to contain the intensity of my attraction for you.” The first few girls break into the room heading for their lockers. “I'll wait outside for you and give these ladies some privacy to change.” With that he disappears out the door.
“Who the hell is that?” Hannah says when she sees Sam sitting on the hood of a 1967 Chevy Impala looking like a dark god of sex and death; oh wait, he is. Scott's eyes get wide.
“Is that the Supernatural car?” he asks about half a second later. I love that my new friends watch Supernatural, cause I'm a big fan.
“That's Samuel Baron. And yes, that is totally the supernatural car, Scott.”
“How do you know this many hot guys? I thought you just moved here.” Hannah gives me a look.
“I did. Kriminal, Zandor, and Sam all live in my neighborhood. The five of us have hung out a few times since I moved to town is all.” I try to pass it off like no big deal.
“The five of you?” She asks.
“Um. Yeah, the four of us and uh … Zan's best friend Sebastian.” I say just as Zan jogs up to the three of us. He smells like bubblegum and fresh sweat.
“Missed you at PE skater girl.” He playfully bumps my shoulder with his own and I find myself smiling before I even realize it.
“My uniform doesn't come till Friday.” I explain with a shrug.
“Okay cool. So, what were you guys talking about?”
“Nothing much.” Hannah says giving me a look that says she doesn't quite believe my story but will let it go for now. “It was super fun hanging out with you guys today. I guess Scott and I are gonna go but maybe you can convince your friend to give us a ride sometime.” They break off from me and Zandor and head across the street.
When Sam sees me and Za
ndor walking toward him he hops of the car and heads towards us. Sam is just as magnetic as Zandor but in a much different way. Zandor is bright and cheerful and outgoing like a pop idol. Samuel is like a bad boy rock star just radiating a don't give a fuck attitude.
He strolls up spinning a ring of keys around a tattooed finger.
“Do you like it? I swiped it off some stupid schmuck this morning.”
“You stole a car?” I can feel my eyes get big.
“Stole has such negative connotations. It's more like I'm taking it for an extended test drive.” Sam says completely serious.
“You can't just take whatever you want.”
“I can't?”
“Zan help me out.” I say with a sigh. He shrugs his shoulders and gives me a weak smile. I cross my arms over my chest and look Sam right in the eye. “Well, I'm not riding in a stolen vehicle.”
“Why the hell not.”
#
“A secret room. This is officially the coolest house ever.” I say in awe. Off the kitchen hidden in the baseboard is a small keyhole that unlocks a hidden door. A piece of wall literally just opens up. Sebastian gives me a small smile and holds out a hand for me. I hesitate for only a moment before taking it letting him pull me into the dark passageway. After having to deal with Assholes like Kim and Sam all day Sebastian is a fresh breath of air. Zan changes back into a cat and takes off ahead of us. Krim and Sam follow behind and close the door. As soon as it clicks shut we are bathed in absolute darkness. I can't see an inch in front of my face. I squeeze Bas's hand a little harder than I mean too. It probably hurts like hell, but he doesn't even flinch. A light clicks on at the end of the hall. Underneath the dim light cat Zandor is sitting waiting for us flicking his tail.
“Let’s go.” Zan says. Seeing a cat speak is weirder than you can even imagine. Bas gives me a reassuring smile. The passage is so narrow, and Sebastian is so big that he barely fits and has to walk sideways. At the end of it narrow hall there are stairs that descend into a lower level.
Sebastian reaches up and flicks on a light.
The room is huge three maybe four times the size of my bedroom upstairs. There are no windows and a roughhewn stone floor. The center of the room is dominated by a big empty space with four circular grooves intersected by an 'X' carved in the floor. On one end is a seating area surrounded by stacks of old books. The other end of the room has a large wooden table next to shelves packed with all kinds of weird stuff.
The five of us sit down at the table and work out a training schedule so that hopefully I won’t be quite so helpless in a fight. For now, Bas will teach me the fundamentals of hoodoo and loa, simple banishing spells, spells of protection that kind of thing. Krim and Sam will be teaching me how to fight, hand to hand, with weapons and eventually even with magic. Zandor is going to focus on teaching me how to hide my presence.
Zandor stands up and stretches his arms above his head exposing a bit of flesh right above his belt line.
“Alright hot-stuff why don't we go first.”
#
Trying to shield my presence ends up being a lot harder than it sounds. It's mildly like trying to meditate but way freaking harder.
“You thought this was going to be the easiest part, didn't you?” he says playfully elbowing me the side.
“Yeah.” I admit with a disappointed sigh. I know I'm being a little hard on myself but I'm super frustrated that I didn't even get close. I think Zandor said something along the lines of: you're lit up like a Christmas tree and every loa within a hundred miles knows exactly where you are.
“Don't get down; most Laveaus spend years mastering this. Now go learn how to be a ninja master with the agility of a cat.” As he says cat, he shifts back into a cat. “and I'm going to take nap on the couch.”
Combat training apparently means getting my ass beat over and over by both Sam and Krim. Today’s exercise it to land a single punch anywhere on their rock-hard bodies. If I do, we can move onto weapons and the one I'm most excited about magic. What girl doesn't want to be able to blast bad guys with magic. At first, I try to play fair only aiming above the belt but after an hour of never ending frustration I start to get pissed and just try to get them anywhere. By the end of so called combat training I'm soaked in sweat and tired as fuck. I am going to be hurting in the morning. Panting, I shoot the jerks a glare because neither of them is even breathing hard. Bas walks up to where I'm laying sprawled on the floor and offers me his hand.
“Why don't we get comfortable. You've had an eventful few days.” I stand up so happy to finally be able to relax on something comfortable.
Bas pulls a massive leather tome off the pile of books before joining me on the couch.
“There are lots of different kinds of spells. The ones which take the longest to prepare are usually the strongest and they take the least energy. I'm going to help you through making a few mojo bags that can be used to banish lesser loa like the mizuk.” The making of the mojo bags are pretty simple. A small canvas bag stuffed with a few herbs, a copper penny some incense and a few other things I can't remember and voila. This is the easiest thing I've done all day.
“How do I use them?” I lift up the finished product.
“To activate these spells, you have to feed it. You can feed it with any liquid but in your case, blood would be ideal. These are great, but your best weapon will be knowledge. The strongest of us cannot be sent away or bound with such simple means. Every loa has their own strengths and weaknesses. I think the best way for you to learn them is for you to learn about one of the named invisibles every day. Between this book and myself you will be one of the most informed conjure-woman on the planet.”
“Sounds great except today I want to learn about more than one.”
“Why?”
“I want to know more about the four of you.” This warrants a small smile.
“Which of us do you want to do first.” Unlike the others I seriously doubt the double entendre was on purpose, but it still gets my blood boiling.
“You. You're the earth god aren't you.” This gets him to chuckle. “I freaking knew it!”
“I have two more gifts. Do you think you can guess the other ones too?”
“Sure, I do besides I like a challenge.” I sit up face him square on and put a hand on either one of his shoulders, so I can examine him closely. Having my hands on the generous swells of muscle make me suddenly aware of how close we are. My palms feel sweaty and I feel like I can't think straight. “Uh.”
Sebastian leans forward looks me in the eye. “Knowledge and healing.” He closes the last bit of distance between us pressing his lips on mine. The gentle kiss lasts only seconds, but I wish it would go on forever. He pulls back with a smile content with a chaste brush of lips. Sebastian GranBois really is my knight in shining armor.
“Now let’s get back to work. What else do you want to know about me?”
Fortunately for me the rest of the week isn't nearly as eventful as Tuesday. By the time Saturday rolls around I can focus on normal teenage things. Like my date with Zandor.
I feel silly straitening my red tank top for like the fifteenth time. I'm nervous, probably because this is the first real date I've been on, ever. I'm being silly, I try to tell myself. It's just Zandor. You and Zan have been hanging out all week. Not to mention all those after school Laveau training sessions.
“So, a Voodoo/Hoodoo Festival, huh?” I say to him. I look around it looks like your standard fair except all the booths are voodoo themed. Instead of giant stuffed bears and ducks and bunny rabbits there are giant stuffed gators and snakes and voodoo dolls. Some of the stalls have are dedicated to the voodoo religion, some to actual hoodoo magic but most of it is just horror themed fun being sold to tourists.
“Yeah, it's gonna be great. There are all kinds of cool things to do here. There are rides, games, food. We can even get our fortunes read. Then maybe we go back to your place and watch a movie together or something. What do say?” he rai
ses his eyebrows suggestively while he says or something. Zan looks as hot as usual. He's wearing a black wife beater and a zip up hoodie and jeans. I wish I could just throw on whatever and look as hot as he does. Instead it took me over an hour to get ready. I swear I tried on like five shades of lipstick before I settled on bubblegum pink, seemed appropriate.
“Okay, but don't think you're getting lucky to night blondie.” I joke.
“I'm on a date with you. I'd call that pretty lucky.” he replies. I smile despite myself; something that I always seem to do when he's around. Zan is laying it on thick tonight, I think but I get butterflies big time from his cute compliment anyway. I feel like some stupid teenager in a romance movie getting all tongue tied.
“Stop teasing me. You know what I meant.” His golden eyes meet mine.
“I'm not teasing. I really do like you. And not just cause you're hot. And trust me Sera you are smoking.” Damn. I don't even know how to respond to that. He takes my hand. “Bet I can kick your ass at that Zombie shooting game over there.” He points to a stall a few down from where we're standing.
“I'm pretty pro at zombie shooting, so I seriously doubt it.”
“Let's keep score. At the end of the night if you win more games I'll let you kiss me.” he taps his lips for emphasis.
“Hah. As if I'd want something like that.” Zan digs some bills out of his pocket and pays the guy for a couple rounds. I manage to hit most of the zombies when they pop up. Hell yeah. I do a little fist pump before glancing at Zan's lane. I cover my mouth and try not to laugh. Saying Zandor's score isn't nearly as impressive as my own would be an understatement. He only managed to hit one zombie.
“You better not be letting me win.” I narrow my eyes at him.
“No. I just really suck at this.” He says with a big carefree laugh. All I get for my impressive shooting is a beanie baby sized gator plushie. Seems like a rip off to me but at least it was fun. “Let’s pick a different stall.”