A Soul's Surrender (The Voodoo Revival Series Book 2)

by Victoria Flynn

“Very nice work. It would seem you’ve been discovering some hidden talents,” he said with a wink. He crouched in front of Zelda’s stunned seated form and positioned a finger under her chin so he could more closely examine what I had done. He moved her face from side to side to inspect it from all angles. “Yes, good work indeed.” He said with a nod. Papa Legba gave Zelda a stern look while she was still fingering the spot where her lips had been. “I would take this as a lesson and a warning.” He crossed the room to the half hidden cart in the corner of the room and poured himself a drink. “Perhaps next time you will show a good deal more respect for your betters and keep your unsolicited thoughts to yourself.” He waved his hand, shooing her away.

  She wasted no time climbing to her feet and running for the door. Most likely, she was hoping she could find someone to correct her face.

  My powers were still zinging under my skin, begging for release. Unleashing it promised a high that couldn’t be beaten. Why not? No one was coming for me, no one cared. I’d ruined Angie’s life by existing; she’d never be the same again. I had nothing to lose anymore, so chasing what felt good would at least pass the rest of eternity, conscience be damned.

  “How have you found your stay so far? Hopefully to your liking?” His thick creole accent reminded me of a different time, of a little old woman seeking refuge from the world deep within the swampland.

  “I have, thank you. I’ve met Mateo recently and I have no doubts that he will be immensely helpful with my transition.”

  “Good, I’m very glad to hear it. It’s something you should not go into without all the facts.”

  Something about what he was saying struck a chord in me and brought our previous conversation back to the forefront of my thoughts. Brigitte. Time to find her was running out. The whole idea had slipped my mind with the chaotic goings on of palace life.

  “I seem to recall you mentioning that Brigitte was missing and if she could be found, then Samedi would no longer be free to marry since his long, lost wife would be returned. That is still the case, is it not?” A tiny spark of hope, ignited within me.

  “So. you were listening. Yes, that is still the case. At least, it is for ten more days.”

  “Only ten days?”

  He nodded. “Did you have something in mind? I may be able to be of some assistance.”

  The wheels were spinning in my head, trying to turn over every stone for a definitive solution. Having Papa Legba in my corner would help a lot. He seemed like the type who would just know things.

  Legba took a gulp from his drink and the sound of the ice cubes clinking against glass shook me from my pondering.

  “I’m sorry, I was thinking. Yes, I have a tentative plan. Sort of…” His scrutiny made me nervous and I could feel my palms start to sweat. “Umm…what do you know about her disappearance?”

  I shifted uncomfortably and wiped my hands on my skirt, hoping he wouldn’t notice. The feeling of being his prey wouldn’t shake and it kept me on edge. He may have been willing to help me, but nothing came without a price.

  He pursed his lips with a look of deep consideration. “There’s much that you must first understand. Brigitte is…was…the Baron’s counterpart in every way. Where he is the Loa of the dead, escorting the souls to Guinee or to the land of damnation, Brigitte is the Loa of healing and creation. Occasionally, she helped to restore the broken souls of the departed. Together, they held domain over the dead.”

  Brigitte wasn’t a large part of my compacted voodoo crash course and I focused on every piece of information he divulged. There could be some type of clue in even the most ordinary statements.

  He continued. “She went back to the other side of the veil to collect, but while the souls she collected returned, she did not. Sentries were sent out to find her and bring her back, however they didn’t find anything.”

  “Do you know where she was? I mean, where she was collecting from?”

  He nodded. “Port-au-Prince, Haiti. It was thoroughly searched, but there was nothing there. We know that she wasn’t…how should I say? Killed… if you understand my meaning?” He took a long swig from his drink and drained the glass. “Not bad, a bit weak though,” he said to himself.

  The whole thing was a mystery and it seemed like the deeper anyone dug, the thicker the enigma became. An inconsistency dawned on me and my mouth opened before I could think to phrase it any differently.

  “How do you know she’s not dead unless you took her yourself?” I accused.

  The words were spoken so I stood my ground and tried to hide my uncertainty. I realized too late that I was alone with a man who I’d just accused of kidnapping. Drake and Zelda were one thing, even the Bacalou was manageable, yet I didn’t think I had a chance in hell of defeating a Loa if it came down to it.

  Disapproval marred his strong features as he held my gaze like he was daring me to further disrespect his honor. But his face broke and laughter boomed within the confined space of my bed chamber.

  My chest tightened. I didn’t know what to do or how to react, so I did nothing other than stand there awkwardly, hoping he explained himself.

  He quieted down after a moment and dragged in deep gulps of air to calm himself. “Oh my dear girl. You have a set of tèstikul, don’t you? I like that.” The wicked glimmer returned to his eyes. “Look around you. If she was dead, this place would be dying, and it will if she is not found in the next ten days, or if the Baron does not remarry. You see? There must always be balance. The Baron and the Manman. Man and woman. Light and dark. Always opposite and equal.” His hands were facing palms up as he moved them animatedly like a balance would before reaching its equilibrium.

  “So, you’re saying you had nothing to do with any of it?” I asked him one final time.

  “No.” His tone had a finality to it. It wasn’t something I really wanted to push.

  Reaching up, I ran my fingers through my hair and bit my lip. A nervous habit of mine. My hair felt like a rat’s nest with strands flying free in every direction. Part of me didn’t care that I looked unkempt in front of this man while another, more deep seated part needed social approval. I was only human, though I wasn’t sure that was something the Loas would understand since they weren’t.

  The stronger desire won out and I moved around him. Crossed to the bar cart to pour myself a small drink. I needed something to calm my nerves. It also had a much better vantage point to possibly see myself in the mirror without seeming obvious about it.

  “Do you have a plan? Your time is running out if you wish find Brigitte before your nuptials.”

  “He planned the wedding date to coincide with Brigitte’s expiration date…” I said to myself. The whole situation was peculiar. “You don’t think that he…I mean, you know…would he?” My stammering wasn’t making any sense, but I didn’t know Samedi well enough to say whether or not he would kill his wife. Or in this case, kidnap her and hold her hostage.

  “That is the question, isn’t it? No one really knows what he’s capable of. A true wild card that one.”

  “You don’t say. Okay, let’s talk hypotheticals for a moment. If he did it, why would he? She’s his wife. I just can’t fathom his motive.”

  “Why does anyone kill their spouse? Jealousy, greed, material wealth, insanity…it could be something different entirely. Do not forget that you have no proof of his involvement in any way.”

  My gut said differently. Something felt off about the Baron and his rush to remarry only solidified those feelings. Superficially, the marriage to save the realm would make sense. Reality was a different story altogether and with these people, nothing was ever as it seemed. He didn’t seem like the grieving husband either.

  “Wouldn’t he be looking for her though? Unless he already knows where she is.”

  “You could be right. I can see what I can find out and let you know if you like?”

  I nodded, pondering some of what he’d said. There was still a bit that I wasn’t understanding. “If they’
re in balance with each other, how can he hold her hostage against her will? Couldn’t she overpower him?”

  Legba’s eyes widened, seeming to not have considered the conundrum I posed. “You’re right. How did no one think of this before?” He rubbed at his chin, processing the new revelation.

  My mind raced with what all of it meant for me. Whoever did it, and my money was on Samedi, had a lot to lose. They’d be desperate. Images of a cornered wolf came to mind. All the possibilities were becoming too much. I wasn’t dealing with the Bacalou, who were vile shadow creatures. I was dealing with a deity. My chest felt tight. I needed air. I was close to suffering a full blown panic attack. Looking anywhere for a diversion, I found it in an unlikely form.

  I caught a glimpse of my disheveled appearance in the vanity mirror. Startled by what I saw there, I choked on my own saliva and spiraled into a fit of sputtering coughs and gasped for air. Papa Legba offered no assistance other than to look at me with an eyebrow quirked and traces of surprise etched in the fine lines of his face.

  “I’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse me. I got distracted and my gown is beyond saving.”

  I gestured towards the heavily wrinkled gown I’d forgotten I was wearing while simultaneously fighting for more air. My cheeks heated with embarrassment.

  “Please, don’t change on my account.” His eyes dipped to my chest and shamelessly perused the goods.

  “I’m sorry, but I must insist.”

  I didn’t move to cover myself or show any signs of being uncomfortable with his attentions. He was very much like a predator and he’d attack any weaknesses that he could glean from my reactions. It wasn’t the first time I’d caught him looking and I doubted it would be the last. Either way, I was thankful he’d never acted on such desires.

  Sliding one foot clumsily behind the other, I curtsied shallowly and bowed my head to Papa Legba. When I rose, he took ahold of my hand and pressed a chaste kiss to my knuckles before turning and sauntering out of the room. I let out a relieved breath and shuffled to the bathroom.

  Within a moment, the bath was running and all the essentials had been collected and deposited on the table beside the tub. The room filled with the sweet scent of jasmine oil.

  It wasn’t what I had expected. When I had made the deal with Samedi, I’d thought killing Drake would be the end of it all. Knowing it was just the beginning…there was little doubt I’d survive the coming war. Then there were the concerns surrounding the Baron’s motives in marrying me. That…and the added possibility he kidnapped and stashed his wife somewhere. I was in deep and couldn’t see a way out. The rising panic returned in a hurry as I contemplated the remnants of my life. Slowly inhaling and exhaling, I tried to calm my frayed nerves and stop from shattering into a sobbing mess. The waves of panic began to recede for the time being.

  My hands shook. I balled them into tight fists, willing myself to be okay. Knuckles strained and whitened. I let go and allowed the circulation to begin again. I cranked the knob on the tub to shut off the water. Unable to resist the call of its peaceful pool, I pulled my dress over my shoulders and let it pool at my feet. I slipped into the pleasantly warm tub and submerged myself up to my chin.

  A small groan of pleasure escaped me. The water was like heaven and I could feel all of the stress melting away with the wonderful heat. Letting it all go, if only for a brief moment, I allowed my mind to rest. I reveled in the peace it afforded me.

  Grabbing the washcloth from the table top beside the tub, I dipped it into the water and lathered it up with soap. The scent of flowers and rich earth filled the air. I slid it over my skin, clearing away the grit from sleep and the previous day. My thoughts were straying back to my dreams and the man that haunted them.

  Rhys had been beautiful and way out of my league the first time I’d met him. Granted, I thought he was a hit-it-and-quit-it kind of guy, but he’d proven me wrong. I’d been sure that what we’d had was rare and special. Thinking of how everything had turned out, I guess we had more in common with Romeo and Juliet than Westley and Buttercup. Personally. I’d always wished for the latter since I wasn’t much of a fan of tragedies. Who was I kidding? I was living a damn tragedy. Despite it all, I wouldn’t have changed a single moment with him.

  The sweetest memories lay out in the Louisiana swamplands. My thoughts strayed to our nights spent together. A hot flush spread over my over sensitized skin as I remembered the way he’d touched me. His deep voice as he’d whispered his pleasure when I moved the right way. My hand drifted down my neck and over my hardened nipples. The barest touch sent tiny shocks down to my core leaving me desperate for satisfaction.

  I closed my eyes and imagined it was Rhys’s hands that were caressing and kneading as they worked their way south. Even in the warm water of my bath, I could tell how aroused I was. I could practically hear him saying, look at you. Soaking wet and so ready just for me.

  A tiny moan echoed off the walls around me. I was needy for more. My fingertips brushed my swollen nub and I dropped the washcloth to grip the edge of the tub. Rhys’s handsome face was clear as I remembered every inch of him. I’d memorized how he’d licked and massaged me until I came apart in his arms. My fingers dipped lower and teased my entrance while the heel of my hand pressed down on my button just right. The need grew within me. I lost all awareness as I teased and rubbed my core. My fingers plunged into my hot center. Water lapped at my plump breasts as I withdrew my fingers to circle my clit before diving back in. Tension built slowly within my core. It felt like a rubber band was being stretched, but not yet to the point of release.

  Remembering the way Rhys had filled me so completely almost drove me over the edge. I imagined him telling me, you feel so fucking good. Perfect. He’d pull my erect nipples into his mouth. His tongue would circle them, tease them before he’d give it a tiny nip and move to the other.

  My pace was picking up, pulling the band in me tighter. I was desperate for the release I knew was coming soon. Fingers slid in and out with ease as my juices mixed with the water. So close. It was hitting that magical spot deep within me. Thinking of Rhys’s thick dick when he’d pound into me brought me to the top of the mountain I’d been climbing.

  The feeling of him swelling as he poured himself into me pushed me over the edge.

  I cried out loudly and my back arched, coming out of the water. I throbbed around the digits and my legs shook with the convulsions rocking through me. I rode the waves of pleasure until the tiny aftershocks ceased. My breaths came in short pants and I relaxed my grip on the side of the tub.

  While it hadn’t been Rhys, it was satisfying enough to suppress my desires for a while. Would it be like this for the rest of eternity? Deep down, I already knew the answer. It would. I wouldn’t ever be able to let another man, let alone the Baron, touch me in such a way. I’d always think of Rhys and long for his touch above all others.

  My limbs were lax and I felt weightless once the tension had been released. I didn’t have a care in the world until I got out and had to go back to reality.

  My hair had so far been neglected so I grabbed the soap and started to massage it into my thick locks until I’d worked in a nice lather. Laying my head back, I rinsed the soap from my scalp. I decided I’d dawdled much longer than I probably should.

  I stood and stepped from my sanctuary. I toweled off before tackling my hair. I padded towards the door, wrapped in the towel, but stopped just short of opening it.

  Sounds of movement on the other side of the door caught my attention. Had someone heard me? Were they there the whole time? I glanced back at the draining tub, my face heated, no doubt resembling a tomato. I couldn’t decide whether or not I should I storm out and confront the intruder or wait and see what happened. Steeling my resolve, I decided I wasn’t a coward as I reached out and turned the handle.

  Giving the door a shove, I squared my shoulders and marched into my rooms, all the while maintaining a death grip on my towel; the last thing I needed was to confro
nt someone and lose my towel.

  I scanned the room, looking for the interloper. Moving further into the room, I still saw no one.

  “Hello?”

  There was no answer, yet I could hear the movements of someone in there with me.

  I moved through the sitting room and into my bedroom, and found the culprit…rifling through my armoire.

  She was hidden behind the open doors so I repeated myself. “Hello? Can I help you with something?”

  My eyes were narrowed. I was ready to inflict immense amounts of pain on this prick.

  Della popped out from behind the door, eyes wide and looking very much like a terrified kitten.

  “Sorry miss!” She kept her head down, avoiding any sort of eye contact. The girl was mousey and fragile; I couldn’t help but to want to care for her and make her feel at ease. “Zelda was…er…indisposed. I…I…just thought you’d like your clothes laid out. And you didn’t touch your breakfast so I had another brought up.” She seemed flustered.

  “Oh, um, thanks.”

  I shifted my weight to my other foot, uncomfortable with the awkward tension that filled the air between us. She appeared to be as innocent as freshly fallen snow and it would seem there was a solid chance she’d just heard me come very loudly. I pulled my towel tighter around me, wishing I could completely cover myself.

  “I’m sorry, miss. I didn’t mean to intrude or overstep my place. I can leave if you’d like?”

  I took a deep breath and padded towards her. “That won’t be necessary. You’re fine, I just didn’t know who was here.”

  As I got closer to her, I noticed the marks. On her neck just below her collar, scars and faded bruising mingled new ones marred her slim nape.

  “Yes, miss. I understand.” She curtsied and began to turn back to the armoire.

  “Della? What happened to your neck?”

  She froze and didn’t answer right away. “It was an accident. I just need to be more careful is all.”

  Della pulled a cream colored gown from the dresser and draped it over my bed, followed by under garments and the appropriate accessories.