by Penn Cassidy
Soft music played a bluesy rhythm in the background. It was scratchy and distant, as if forgotten about in another room. Persian rugs covered the floor, soft under my bare feet as I swung my legs off the chaise lounge.
“Bael?” I asked tentatively. My voice cracked painfully and sounded hollow in the cavernous room
I was just assuming at this point that he’d be around somewhere. Actually, I was kind of hoping. As odd as he was, somehow, I’d believed him when he said he wouldn’t hurt me. At least for now.
But Theodore… I shivered just thinking about him. Now he might just hurt me, despite their pretty promises.
I paused, forgetting any notions of standing up from the lounge. For a second, I felt like I couldn’t even move if I wanted to.
There was a doorway across the room behind the poker table, and a long beaded curtain parted, a tall man stepping through. It was Theodore, and the sight of those silver eyes through the candlelit darkness had my muscles tensing up and my eyes shifting around for a means of escape.
It struck me that Theodore had a very slight accent, almost undetectable. It sounded like something you’d hear in the Caribbean, but just barely. The questions just kept piling up.
“Where’s Bael?” I asked dumbly.
Something tightened in Theodore’s expression. Irritation, it seemed like.
“Right here, blue girl.”
I whirled, finding Bael lounging casually on another lounge, this one next to a small cast iron stove that had a fire roaring inside of it.
He was stroking Lafayette’s little head. The cat was blinking at me, his deep purr rumbling through the room, and once again, his strange little presence made me feel a little bit more comfortable. I was positive neither of them had been there two seconds ago.
“A little birdie told me you’d be here.” He winked. “And when I say birdie, I really mean Lafayette.” His painted fingernails glinted in the candlelight as he scratched behind his cat’s ear. “Always full of secrets, this one.”
“I asked you to call me Mori,” I said dumbly, feeling tongue-tied and disoriented. The nicknames were making me uneasy, as if I were a toy to be played with.
Theodore moved around my left, perching himself on the arm of a large chair. I tried to keep both men in my line of vision, but I couldn’t help but feel like they were herding me like sheep.
“But the name is so fitting,” Theodore said, surprising me with the playfulness of his tone. “Bael seems to think so, and I rarely find myself agreeing with him on anything.” Theodore eyed me critically, then shook his head. "You're blue in so many ways."
The insult was thinly veiled. He was telling me I looked sad. Or ugly? We’d go with sad.
I huffed without humor. "I look like a drowned rat. What the fuck did you expect?"
Theodore’s eyes shuttered with darkness for a second, and I bit my tongue. What the hell was I thinking, snapping at him like that?
Lafayette’s purrs grew comically loud, breaking the tension in the room, and Theodore rolled his eyes before glaring at Bael.
“Stop harassing my cat, St. Claire. He doesn’t like you.”
I blinked, eyes bouncing between the two men. St. Claire? Was that Bael’s last name?
Lafayette, who I’d thought belonged to Bael at first, jumped off the chaise lounge and hopped right up onto Theodore’s shoulder, rubbing his little face against his cheek.
Oh, to be a cat—
I cut off that train of thought immediately. I did not need to be picturing what it would feel like to rub my own skin against that cheek.
“Lafayette likes everyone. You’re just being bitter," said Bael, waving him off.
He rose from his casual perch and sauntered up to me, lifting my right hand and placing a soft kiss across my fingers.
“I trust you had a good sleep, chérie?”
I yanked my hand back and clutched it close to my chest. What was with all the kissing and touching? Not that it wasn’t pleasant, being touched the way a woman liked to be touched.
How long had it been?
“Exactly how long was I out?” I asked. I shot Theodore an accusing look that was braver than I felt. “What did you do to me?”
Rubbing my forehead, I tried to feel for a bump or a burn, but there was nothing but smooth skin.
“Moria Laveau,” he said, stretching out every syllable and ignoring my question entirely. “Laveau…” he repeated, tapping his fingers on the fabric of the chair. “Interesting name for a priestess.”
Instantly, I knew what he was thinking. I rubbed my temples, eyes falling closed in exasperation.
“Before you ask, I have no idea if I’m related to Marie Laveau. It's not exactly an uncommon name around here. Besides, I don’t even think she was a real person to begin with. And I’m not a priestess…not yet.”
Maybe not ever.
This happened all the time. Especially living in New Orleans my whole life. Tourists flocked to the famous sites where the voodoo queen, Marie Laveau, once lived and died.
Her name was practically synonymous with NOLA voodoo. But I wasn’t related to the woman, I didn’t think, and even Grandma Anne got irritated when people made assumptions.
The Laveau name meant a hell of a lot more than some woman who I still wasn’t even completely sure existed, at least in the way the stories made her out to be.
Bael smirked at my irritation. He was fidgeting with a little velvet bag on the tabletop next to him, just watching my exchange with Theodore with amusement. Somehow, I got the feeling Theodore already knew this, but he was just testing me to see how many questions I was willing to answer.
Theodore conceded with a nod. “Do I detect a bit of Haitian somewhere in that delectable bloodline? There's something else too…”
I felt the lick of his gaze as he ran his eyes over my body. I hadn’t been expecting this side of the terrifying man. He was almost…charming?
“Haitian and French on my father’s side and I’m not sure about my mom. Not sure why that’s even important to you. Kind of a rude question, actually.”
I’d always wondered about it myself though. The reddish hair and freckles had to have come from somewhere in Europe, but mom had never said anything about her family who I’d never met.
As it was, I was a mixed bag, but I identified with my father’s family, given our rich history and ties to New Orleans.
The thought of Felice Laveau made my heart squeeze. My mom probably didn’t even know I was missing. I only saw the woman once a year since my father passed, and even then, it was like she was too busy for me. Grandma Anne had been much more of a mother to me than Felice ever was.
I wondered if Grandma was searching for me yet, or if she got worried sick when I never checked in with her. I usually called her landline that she rarely used to let her know I got home safe after our visits. I had a sneaking suspicion she just wanted to make sure Austin hadn’t flipped out on me.
“I thought as much,” said Bael, interrupting my frazzled thoughts. “This sort of beauty could only hail from a rich ancestral line. A powerful one at that."
His finger twirled a lock of my hair into a coil. I wanted to flinch at his sudden nearness. His body was pressed against me, and I could feel the caress of his breath on my neck. The man had a habit of appearing and disappearing, and it was driving me insane.
Then out of nowhere, he asked, “Do you believe in magic?”
The question was so jarringly out of left field that I only blinked at him at first.
Did I believe in magic? Me, with the famous Annette Laveau as a grandmother? Clearly, they already knew who and what she was.
Did I believe in things that went bump in the night? Of course I did. Since I was a little girl, I’d been warned off the dangers of messing with things I had no business messing with.
“Now you’re the one asking the wrong questions,” I said. “Ask me what you really want to know, or tell me how to get out of this place already. I’m tired, I�
��m cold, and I’m pretty sure he” —I pointed to Theodore accusingly— “isn’t even a human being.” Theodore glanced at Bael with a look of amusement that made my skin prickle with unease. He wasn’t denying it. “But to answer your question, of course I believe in magic. My grandmother is an excellent teacher.”
“You plan to follow in her footsteps?” Theodore asked conversationally.
My shoulders dropped. “That was the plan, but…”
I couldn’t finish. Silence stretched between the three of us.
Then Bael said finally, “There are things about this place you’ll need to know before we let you wander off on your own again. We can’t have you running around without the facts, now can we?”
I groaned. “That’s literally all I’ve asked you for—the facts. I want them now, or else I’m leaving on my own and taking my chances in the swamp again. Maybe the fucking gators will talk to me.”
“Such a colorful vocabulary,” Bael said with a chuckle. His eyes traced my lips, bright with amusement. “Say fuck again, but slower this time.”
Though my heart lurched, I managed to give him a dry look, blinking slowly as if to say, you’re kidding, right?
A heavy look passed between the two men, but they quickly came to a silent agreement. I was beginning to hate how they did that, feeling out of the loop.
He tsked and then pouted playfully. “You’re no fun.” With a sigh, he waved me on. “Why don’t you start from the beginning. What were you doing before you came here? Were you speaking to anyone?”
I sighed, sitting back in my seat, which happened to bring me even closer to Bael’s warmth.
“Like I said, I was on Frenchman Street, walk—”
“That’s not what he asked you, was it?” asked Theodore. “I believe he asked you something a little more specific. Your arrival here reeks of foul play. This place isn’t a stop along the road. In fact, it’s nearly impossible to find the Carnival of Bones unless you know what or who you are looking for. The carnival finds you, not the other way around.”
I didn’t get it. What was the point of a carnival if it couldn’t be found? Besides, I’d seen plenty of customers milling around outside, even if there was something incredibly odd about them. Once again, their colorless skin flashed through my head, making me nauseous.
“What were you doing before you started wandering around in the Quarter? A beautiful woman alone while the city’s overwhelmed with strangers? Not very smart at all."
Theodore continued to stroke Lafayette’s head, appearing to be in agreement with Bael.
Bael threw his arm lazily across the back of the sofa, exposing his heavily tattooed chest that I tried not to look at. I didn’t move as he began gently dragging his fingertips over the nape of my neck, playing with the little hairs that curled there.
I felt fidgety under both of their stares, but I was starting to calm down at least. So far, it didn’t seem like they were planning on axe murdering me.
“Well, if you'd stop interrupting me, I could tell you.” Raising a brow, I waited in case they had anything else unnecessary to add. When they blinked back at me in silence, I said, "New Orleans is always packed with strangers, and I’m not some damsel in distress. I can handle drunken tourists any day, that’s not the issue.”
But I racked my brain for a memory. As I delved deep, I started to get even more nauseous and a steady pulse of pain was building between my eyes.
“I just remember standing in my bedroom. It was like I just woke up there, with all this blood on my dress.” I looked down, fidgeting with the stained fabric. “I don’t even own a dress like this.” The bloodstains were beginning to turn black now as they dried. “I can’t remember anything after—”
“After what?” Theodore prompted as I felt silent, trying to remember.
He’d leaned in a little, looking too excited, too intrigued, but he also looked like he was trying to keep it reigned in. His rings glinted in the candlelight, and so did his eyes.
I shifted in my seat, fighting a pulsing headache that was getting worse by the second.
“I visit Grandma Annette every week, and I know I was there yesterday. I remember helping her prepare for the parades like I usually do every year, but beyond that is just blank. I don’t know how I got home, or why I was alone when I woke up in my bedroom. My fiancé—”
I glanced up, meeting Bael’s eyes. His face was drawn tight, and his eyes were bitter. I looked away, wringing my hands in my dress again. Everything inside me rejected the thought of referring to that man as my fiancé.
“I went looking for Austin, but there were too many people everywhere. He should have been home, because he hates Mardi Gras.”
He hated anything fun that I enjoyed.
“So I freaked out and went looking for him on foot. One minute, I was standing on Frenchman Street, and the next, I was hit with this blinding pain in my head. I blinked and then I was waist-deep in the fucking swamp, miles away from home.”
I tried not to break out into hysterics, but the more I relived what had happened to me, the more insane everything sounded.
“So I just kept walking. Something told me I just needed to keep going forward—some kind of song, I think.”
I shook my head and pinched the bridge of my nose, my headache getting worse the more I tried to remember.
“I don’t know what it was, but I kept going until I found this place. Lafayette found me, and I guess you know the rest.”
In response to his name, the little black cat made a chirping noise and stretched.
Theodore leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, steepling his fingers. In the flickering candlelight, his face seemed more severe, and when the shadows hit just right, I could have sworn I saw a hint of that insane skeleton-like design, as if it were hiding right under his skin like a tattoo.
My heart thundered as I tried to keep calm, pretending like he didn’t scare the shit out of me.
“This place is a crossroads, Moria. A place where the living cannot walk,” he said frankly.
A chill ran down my spine, and my throat closed up. The words were registering and they were familiar, but it couldn't be true. The crossroads weren't physical…
As if he could hear the unspoken question, Bael said, “How and why you're here is a mystery even to the two of us. You should not have been able to find this place, no matter how hard you tried. You should have walked right past it.” He studied me with narrowed eyes. “Curious, isn’t it?”
“What are you saying exactly?” I asked. My head was spinning now, as well as pounding. “Are you telling me we’re in some kind of limbo? That doesn’t make any sense. That's not how it works.”
“It doesn’t have to make sense, it just is.”
I wanted to laugh, but I knew it would come out sounding hysterical.
“So what, am I dead? Is that why—”
“You’re not dead,” said Theodore, cutting me off before I could spiral even more. “That, I know for a fact.”
“How could you possibly know that?” I gave him a dry look, trying to mask my disbelief.
How could they tell? If I was in limbo, it meant I had to be dead, right? Was I a ghost? Or maybe they were lying to me. Maybe this whole thing was an elaborate joke. Maybe they were trying to make me think I was crazy.
I raised my hands in front of my face, studying them, as if I’d suddenly become transparent or something.
Fuck, I’m losing it…
Theodore loosed a sigh. “You’re really not dead. Well, not yet at least.”
I dropped my hands to my lap. “Is that a threat?”
Unable to help myself, I searched the tent for a possible way out.
Bael smiled wryly, and I could have sworn even Theodore’s seemingly permanent scowl lifted slightly. They glanced at each other, Bael smiling with all teeth.
“What say you, Theo? She is already here, why don’t we just keep her? I think she'd make quite an entertaining little pet."
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“I don't hate the idea,” Theodore mused, his silver eyes seemingly growing darker, his pupils expanding too quickly. Even Lafayette was staring at me, his bright eyes matching his owner’s perfectly.
My head was pounding so hard that I felt like it was going to shatter my skull. I didn’t like the way they were staring at me, as if I were something delicious.
Well, maybe a small part of me kind of liked it, but I tried my best to shove that part of me way down deep because she’d probably end up getting me killed.
As if he could read my thoughts, Bael disappeared from the couch before rematerializing on the other arm of the lounge, staring down at me. I jolted and might have let out a small squeak of surprise that I wasn't proud of.
“Okay, how the hell are you doing that?!” I was more sure than ever that these guys weren’t human, or if they were, they were magicians of some kind.
“Doing what, cher?” he crooned inncocently, running his knuckles down my bare arm. “Don’t be afraid, we're all friends here. Nobody will hurt you. I thought we established that."
“He hurt me.” I gestured to Theodore accusingly. My forehead throbbed with a phantom burn.
“Oh, darling, that was just foreplay,” said Bael with a cheeky wink.
My stomach flipped. He was trying to distract me. Either that or he was a massive flirt. Probably both.
I tried and failed to ignore the feel of his knuckles as they continued to drag over my skin. The warmth of his hand felt nice against the chill.
“What did you really mean when you said this is a crossroads?” I directed the question at Theodore, whose eyes were currently riveted on Bael’s sensually slow strokes.
It took a heavy moment for him to meet my eyes again. He petted Lafayette lightly, then turned to whisper something in the cat’s ear. Then, to my shock, Lafayette jumped down off of Theodore’s shoulder and onto my lap, settling into a cat loaf immediately. I couldn’t help but laugh, even though there was nothing funny about this situation at all.
“Your grandmother must have told you stories of Legaba and the crossroads, given that she’s been a priestess for decades,” Theodore said.