The Accidental Kiss

  Once they reached us, the man pushed Emily to her knees. He looked over at Magenta and she gave a slight nod. The burlap sack was removed, revealing a sleep deprived Emily. She blinked against the lights. I rushed over to her; grateful my friend was alive.

  “You’re ok?” My eyes examined Emily’s condition. “You don’t seem hurt. Are you hurt?”

  Emily looked at me dazed as if she couldn’t believe I was in front of her. “You’re here?”

  “Of course I’m here. I wouldn’t have left you to rot.”

  Fat tears rolled down her cheeks, which activated my own. We sat there together on the cement ground, crying and laughing. Overcome with emotion.

  “Thank you,” Emily whispered as she grabbed my hand. “Thank you so much.”

  “Of course.”

  Magenta groaned and yanked Emily up by the arm. “Enough. All this girly shit is giving me a headache.” She looked over at the man who brought Emily in. “Release her.”

  Emily and I locked eyes as the man followed orders. He undid the chains around her ankles and gestured his head toward the exit. Her feet stayed firmly planted, unwavering as our friendship.

  “Go,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I can’t leave you.”

  Although my eyes might have said differently, there wasn’t a choice. Emily couldn’t stay here unless she wanted to end up in the ground.

  “Yes, you can. Go before they change their minds.” Emily looked at the exit and I gave her the final push she needed. “Go!”

  She broke out into a run, where Daemon, the twins, and Lucy were waiting for her. With trepidation, I watched the garage doors close, sending the plan into motion.

  “Wonderful,” Magenta exclaimed. “Now the real fun can begin.”

  You have no idea.

  The faceless man returned and flanked Magenta on her right side. The two zombies and the mistress sounded like a bad joke waiting to happen. A nervous giggle broke free from my lips.

  Magenta arched a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “You won’t be laughing when we are done with you, child.” Just like that, the giggles faded. She signaled for the zombies to go forth and they snatched my arms. “Be careful with her. Sky is a precious commodity.”

  The zombies grinned as they hauled me off.

  A sterile white hallway lead to a door marked with the numbers 201. The faceless man knocked timidly and a booming voice told us to enter. I braced myself for whoever was on the other side. Turning the doorknob, the zombies cast me to the beige carpet and left. Puffing my hair out of my eyes, I lifted my chin. Bookcases lined the walls with expansive windows offering a view of a greenhouse. Light poured into the room.

  “Hello, Sky.”

  My chin jerked to the side. A man dressed in simple white slacks and a button up t-shirt sat in an armchair, legs crossed. His features were unremarkable, yet I knew instantly it was the voodoo priest. I recognized his creole accent and a sinister vibe surrounded him like a hungry shark out for blood. Since I had never been face to face with my own grim reaper before, words failed me. He got out of the chair and walked over to where I was kneeling.

  “Rise,” the voodoo priest ordered.

  My hand inched its way into my coat pocket where the red potion was and I stood. “Hasn’t your momma ever taught you to use your manners?”

  “No, and obviously your mama has never taught you to hold your tongue.” He sauntered to his massive wooden desk. “Take a seat.”

  I eyed the chair warily. It appeared normal, however, I didn’t trust the voodoo priest as far as I could spit. “I’ll stand.”

  “So be it.” He shifted a few papers around then leveled me with a stare that could send a grown man running. “How does it feel knowing you’re about to die?”

  “How does it feel? Amazing.” I responded, sarcastically.

  He smiled as if my answer pleased him. “It should. You’re finally living out your destiny. What you were meant to do.”

  I had dreams about being a chef who traveled around the world with my own private jet. If that didn’t work out, then maybe a doctor. However, dying so a power hungry voodoo priest could regain control of a stupid religion wasn’t one of my ambitions. The red potion hummed with energy and I itched to throw it in his face. That would wipe the self-satisfied smirk away real quick.

  “For the past eighty years, I have had time to think about how I would kill you,” he drawled. “Whether you should be dead or alive when the blood was taken out of your body. My favorite was alive but my aptitude for kindness waved me over to dead. The car accident was my olive branch.” Malice glittered in his eyes. “Of course as you know, it didn’t go as planned.”

  My knees went weak as red dots burst in my sight. Melissa’s death meant nothing to him. She was an accidental fly in his trap. “Olive branch? You killed my best friend!”

  “Yes, well accidents happen but look you got Daemon out of it. One of my best men, might I add. How is that going? Is his soul still hanging on?”

  The little thread of sanity I had snapped. My body lunged foreword with the intention of strangling the living daylights out of him. Ridding the voodoo priest of his inky black soul wasn’t enough. He deserved to kiss the chasm between life and death. Halfway over the desk, a pair of hands clamped around my arms and yanked me backwards. My feet kicked out as I screamed a colorful array of profanity.

  “Get her prepared for the sacrifice.” The voodoo priest directed.

  Once again, I was dragged out of the room down the hallway and to another set of doors, where a woman was waiting for me. She had an ethereal glow about her but the blank gaze showed the cruel deck of cards life handed to her.

  “Please strip,” she said in greeting.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Strip.”

  This was a twist I hadn’t seen coming. Where the hell was Daemon? He was supposed to infiltrate the warehouse and act as a buffer while Lucy tried to find the jar of souls. The twins were sent home with Emily. Six people seemed like one too many, so we had whittled it down to three. Hopefully that wasn’t a mistake. The woman gestured impatiently for me to undress.

  “Can you at least turn around?” I asked. Not because I was shy but because I didn’t want her to see me slipping the red potion into my bra.

  Spinning around on her heels, I tucked my salvation into its hiding place. The vial felt cool against my skin. Shedding the rest of my clothes, I stood clad in only my bra and panties. “Ok.”

  The woman grabbed a white dress off a hanger and tugged it over my head. She smoothed the silk against my body. “You are ready.”

  I looked at myself in a mirror across the room and nearly gasped. I was a walking Virgin Mary. The white dress hung loosely around my curves while the color washed out my complexion. Then again, it wasn’t like my sacrifice was a fashion show but still, you couldn’t blame a girl for wanting to look pretty in her last moments.

  A man entered. “Come.”

  The voodoo priest’s zombies were men of few words. I was happy Daemon had escaped this existence even if it did come with a price. I followed the man toward an open entryway. Mist swirled around my feet as we approached. Where was the man taking me? I stepped into a space that was like an overrun jungle. Humidity hung in the air. It dawned on me we were in the greenhouse I had seen from the voodoo priest’s office. A well-worn path snaked its way deeper into the foliage until it gave way to an open area. People dressed in fancy attire milled about, sipping on glasses of champagne. A stage equipped with a long pole in the middle stood up front. Bile rose in my throat. The white dress, the party-like atmosphere, and the pole all equaled one thing. Everybody was here to witness the blood pour out of my body and subsequently celebrate my demise, as Santeria was reborn.

  My feet stumbled as my brain screamed to not take another step farther. However, I had to trust Daemon and Lucy would get me out of here in one piece and focus on the goal at hand: ridding the voodoo priest of his magic.

  The ma
n saw my hesitation. “Don’t delay.”

  Shoving me into the clearing, a hush fell over the crowd. The people looked at me as if I was a living curiosity ripe for their entertainment. This world was a lot sicker than I thought. The man dug his finger in my back as he led me to the front. Eyes bore into my soul, stripping me bare. I mounted steps to the stage where the wooden pole was waiting for me. The man yanked me by the arm and threw me in its direction. He secured my wrists to the pole with rope and tugged until he felt as if I was securely fastened. Then he moved to my feet. As I gazed out at the crowd, I wanted to scream. Who were these people? Did they have a sick fascination with death? Religious zealots? How could they drink their fancy champagne while a girl was being tied to a pole? My head throbbed. The man double-checked the knots and the rope cut into my skin. Satisfied, he moved off the stage and left me alone with my never-ending thoughts and worries. I hoped Daemon and Lucy were all right. The warehouse didn’t appear to be swarming with protection but it was a confusing map of hallways. There was also the problem of Daemon’s soul having a ticking clock on it. A young woman approached the stage and looked up at me with interest. She sipped on her fruity cocktail as she assessed my position. I bared my teeth and growled like the animal she expected me to be. Clutching her pearls, she let out a gasp and faded back into the crowd. These people didn’t see me as human; they saw me as a vessel that would lead to their goal. I couldn’t wait until this celebration went up in flames. From the corner of my eye, the voodoo priest was making his rounds. Talking to the audience, kissing babies, and shaking hands. He looked like a modern day politician and not a crazed voodoo priest. With a few precious moments before he came up on the stage, I began to rub the rope against the pole in hopes of loosening my binds. Heat built against my wrist, creating a serious case of rug burn. Fighting against the pain, I rubbed faster. Every time the voodoo priest inched closer, another person stopped him, eager to touch the man who would bring back Santeria and restore order to this world. The voodoo priest’s fans were the definition of having a screw loose. Then again, a sane person wouldn’t go to a party with the highlight of the evening being a human sacrifice. Eventually, the voodoo priest ran out of hands to shake and entered stage left.

  A thousand watt smile stretched across his face. “Hello, everybody.” Murmurs swelled through the crowd as they raised their drinks in greeting. “It so nice to see all your faces this evening and what a joyous evening it is. Am I right?”

  Joyous evening for whom? Certainly not for me.

  The crowd ate up his sugarcoated address and roared their allegiance to him. The binds around my wrist slackened half an inch.

  The voodoo priest clasped his hands behind his waist while he paced. “This night wouldn’t have been made possible without Sky. While I’m the leader, she is the key. Correction, her blood is the key.” A few chuckles broke from the audience. “So let’s give a hearty thank you to her and the sacrifice she is about to make.”

  They could shove their empty praise where the sun didn’t shine. I gave them my best death glare and continued my attempt to escape.

  The voodoo priest strolled to the pole. Leaning in, I could smell his putrid cologne. His voice dropped to a low whisper. “You’d better slap a smile on that pretty mouth of yours or else the blade won’t be kind to you.”

  I saw through his fake threats straight to his cruel heart. Image was everything to the voodoo priest. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that. I hocked a wad of spit in his eyes.

  He reeled back, cursing. “You little bitch.”

  An audible gasp was heard from the audience. Anger made the voodoo priest momentarily forget where he was but he soon righted himself.

  He faced the crowd and laughed. “Sky is a feisty one, but she knows how important this day is to all of us. The day we can finally bring back the religion that was cruelly cast aside over the years past and see it come to fruition. Can I get an amen?”

  “Amen!”

  A frenzied energy crackled in the air. The people were hungry for blood. My blood and it was only a matter of time before the sacrifice begun. In the audience, I spotted a man who looked strangely a lot like Daemon. A hat was pulled low over his eyes but their builds were similar. The man’s chin tipped upwards and my breath caught in my throat.

  It was Daemon.

  He weaved through the crowd toward the stage. What was Daemon up to? He was supposed to simply act as a buffer and let me handle the voodoo priest. Just then, shapes of blackness came barging into the greenhouse. They floated above looking for their mortal bodies. A woman screamed when the man next to her got a mouthful of soul. The voodoo priest stopped in the middle of his speech, stupefied at the turn of events. Magenta came running in as chaos erupted. People jostled her this way and that while they surged toward the exit.

  Taking advantage of the distraction, Daemon’s hand slipped into his boot and uncovered a metal blade. Revenge darkened his gaze. “How does it feel to have your dreams go up in smoke?”

  The voodoo priest swung his sights over to Daemon. “Well, look who it is.”

  Daemon hopped onto the stage and faced the man who had taken away his freedom. In contrast, the voodoo priest grinned as if it was a jovial reunion between father and son. Magenta peered from below, unsure whether to run or stick by her man. Unsurprisingly, she spun around on her heels and hightailed it out of the greenhouse. Guess she’d had enough crazy.

  Daemon palmed the knife. “Funny running into you here.”

  “I would say the same but we both know you were responsible for this little mishap,” the voodoo priest said.

  Little mishap?

  My gaze took in the scene spread out before me. People were screaming, souls darkened the glass ceiling, and the zombies were slowly catching on to what was happening. Instead of running like the rest, they stood amongst the chaos; mouths opened and ready to welcome their humanity back.

  “Jesus, Sky. What did you do to your wrist?” Lucy’s voice sounded from behind me. She carefully undid the knot to not irritate my skin further.

  I twisted my neck around and peered at her with gratitude. “You did it. You really undid the jar of souls.”

  “I did.”

  My binds fell away, leaving red welts on my skin, which I hardly noticed. Daemon was free.

  “But Sky there is something you need to know.” Remorse sounded in her voice.

  I looked at Lucy expectedly, dreading the worst when a war cry pierced the air.

  Our gazes pivoted to the right. Daemon was charging the voodoo priest, knife out with malice in his eyes.

  This really wasn’t part of the plan.

  At the last second, the voodoo priest dodged out of Daemon’s way and escaped death. “A silly knife won’t kill me,” he taunted. “I am invincible.”

  Daemon’s upper lip twitched as he let out a low growl. We had discussed how the voodoo priest was encased in magic. Why did he think a knife would kill him? Rhodium was the zombie’s weakness; the red potion was for the voodoo priest, not the other way around. Vengeance was making Daemon stupid. I had to help him before things went further south. Palming the potion, a deep breath shuddered through my body.

  I turned to Lucy. “Do you have that small dagger Daemon gave you?”

  She removed the weapon from her belt and gave it to me. I slid the blade across my hand; ruby red blood bloomed at the seams.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Lucy tucked it back into her belt, “Be careful.”

  “I will.”

  It was now or never.

  “Hey asshole,” I yelled at the voodoo priest. “Don’t you want this?” I held my hand above my head as blood dripped down my arm.

  The voodoo priest’s gaze pivoted in my direction. At the sight of the very thing he longed for, his eyes lit up with eagerness.

  “Come and get it,” I jibed.

  “You’re wasting precious blood,” the voodoo priest cried at the same time Daemon cursed, “Don’t
you fucking dare.”

  The voodoo priest broke into a hazed induced run as Daemon followed close on his heels. With the potion ready to strike, I steadied myself but before the voodoo priest could get within firing range, Daemon tackled him.

  “Daemon, stop,” I bellowed.

  My plea went unnoticed. They wrestled to the ground, a mess of limbs and arms. The voodoo priest kicked the weapon out of Daemon’s hand.

  He counterattacked with a blow to the cheek. “That’s for taking my existence away.” Followed by another strike. “And that’s for every evil thing you made me commit.”

  The voodoo priest spit a tooth out of his mouth and blood splattered across the stage. Uncorking the potion, I came around to his side and splashed the red liquid into his face. He clawed at his complexion as it sizzled. Daemon pushed him off and heaved a sigh. The smell of burning skin wafted in the air. Sinking into a ball, the voodoo priest’s spells broke and revealed his true self: a hunchbacked old man without an ounce of power behind his name. He was nothing.

  Daemon’s expression grew dire as he struggled to his feet. “Sky, look out!”

  I jerked my gaze away from the pitiful human that used to be the voodoo priest and spun around. The faceless man’s eyes glowed green with hostility. He stalked toward me with one purpose in mind. To fulfill the mission the voodoo priest failed at.

  “You ready to die, little girl?” he asked telepathically.

  “When pigs fly.”

  Unarmed, I made a mad dash for Daemon’s discarded knife but my speed was unmatched compared to his. The faceless man kicked me in the back, sending me to my knees. He grabbed a fistful of hair and tugged. It was as if a thousand tiny fire ants were dancing on my scalp and I bit back a scream. From the corner of my eye, Lucy came rushing to my rescue. The faceless man swung out his arm and knocked her to the side. Her body went limp like a rag doll.

  You do not mess with my friends and get away with it.

  Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I stood up and swung my leg backwards into the faceless man’s chest. A lungful of air escaped his throat while he stumbled. I closed my hand around the tilt of the knife and circled around.