Carnival of Bones (Carnival of Bones Duet Book 1)

by Penn Cassidy

  Nobody answered me.

  "Lafayette!” My panic was bad enough that I called out to the fucking cat. "I’m done, Bael! You win, all right? You fucking win, just stop already!"

  I couldn’t even hear the carnival music anymore, just the sound of my too fast breaths and my fist hitting the glass over and over again.

  I began to gasp for air. The lights flickered again, causing the small pocket I was stuck inside to go black for three agonizing seconds.

  A figure loomed over my shoulder when the lights finally stayed on. His blond hair was in a dirty, greasy disarray, and his familiar blue eyes were bloodshot and wild. Pale skin, bags under his eyes, and cheeks blotchy red, he looked psychotic.

  Austin was shaking with rage.

  I screamed, lunging forward to get away, when his hands wrapped around my neck from behind, fingernails digging into my throat.

  His mouth was open in a scream but no sound came out, and his eyes began to bleed a thick black liquid. Every single one of his teeth were broken and jagged, a few of them falling out of his mouth. I heard the clink of them dropping to the floor.

  My own screams filled the corridors, echoing around me. I was going to die in this tiny pocket. I was going to suffocate, and nobody would ever find me.

  Tears streamed down my face as my fiancé's hands squeezed tighter and tighter.

  The lights flickered again, everything going dark, and then, just as fast as he’d appeared, Austin was gone. The press of his body disappeared, and my windpipe was released from his iron grip.

  I slumped against the mirror, hands shooting up to my throat. I could feel the crescent-shaped cuts where his nails had dug in, and there was a warm trickle of blood dripping down the side of my neck.

  I was going to be sick. Bile crept up my throat, burning hot as tears fell faster.

  His hands had felt so real…

  He was real.

  Austin…with that hatred burning in his eyes.

  Peeling myself away from the mirror, I banged against it one more time, in anger this time. Rage rolled through me. I hit it so hard that little cracks traveled across the surface in webs.

  It was unfair that I had to suffer this way. I’d been through enough goddamn suffering to last more than one lifetime. Why was this happening to me?

  As if luxuriating in my madness, the fun house went dark again. I heard the buzz of the bulbs as they flickered out, leaving only my labored breathing behind.

  At least I could no longer see my reflection. They said that mirrors were gateways to other realms. They said to be wary of the power they had. I’d never believed it more than I did right now.

  The silence called my name. “Moria…”

  It was so soft. The same eager voice that had called me here was back, and it echoed around me.

  “Bael!” I called out again. “Bael! Over here!”

  Over and over again, trying to drown out the sound of my name whispering all around me, I called for him. Desperation clawed at my skin like an itch that wouldn’t ease.

  “Theodore!” I called out when Bael failed to answer. His name was a scream, raw and choked.

  I couldn’t have told you why I chose to call for him, but at the moment, it was the only thing I could think to do.

  To my surprise and dread, he answered.

  The lights flickered again, and then a man stood behind me. I managed to stifle the scream building in my throat at the sight of his familiar face, that suit, and that cane with the pewter head of a cat.

  His eyes were black again, like the moment I’d first seen him. They were like marbles against his rich brown skin.

  I could just barely make out the image of that admittedly beautiful, striking skull lurking somewhere underneath his stoic expression, but it was only visible when the light shifted. Towering over me at least two heads taller, Theodore laid a hand on my shoulder.

  “Say yes,” he said simply, fingers digging into my skin.

  It wasn’t painful though, only intense. His voice was rich and almost too deep to be natural, and it made my belly warm. I shouldn't have found that voice attractive. I should’ve been running for the hills.

  And yet…

  Say yes? Yes to what?

  I couldn’t bring myself to choke out the question. I did, however, lean back into his hard chest. Fear had tied my tongue, so I stood there, gaping at his reflection.

  Say yes? For all I knew, I might be saying yes to my own death. He looked like a reaper coming to eat my soul. But somehow, I felt like he needed something else from me before that could happen.

  Through the heavy silence, my heart beat like a drum. It didn’t take long for me to realize that it was the only beat I could hear. Even as his muscular body pressed up behind me, warm and solid, his chest was as still as an unmovable stone.

  As terrified as I was, there was only one thing that I knew with absolute certainty, and that was how badly I wanted out of this damn fun house. Presently, Theodore was my only option.

  So I met his eyes, raised my chin, and stood up a little straighter, feigning confidence I didn’t have, and said, “Yes.”

  We were gone in the blink of an eye. The only sensation I could focus on was the feel of his strong arms locking around me and pulling me in tight. Then everything went hazy.

  The next thing I knew, I was toppling sideways, catching myself on something wooden before I face-planted. For a second, my stomach lurched and my head spun, but I managed to breathe through my nose slowly and the world began to come back into focus.

  The first thing I heard was the sounds of crickets, millions of them, it seemed like, then the sound of sloshing water.

  I was sitting in a wooden boat. Wide but short, with three rows of benches. It was a skiff, and it rocked gently in the barely moving swamp waters. I currently sat in the middle row, and behind me was…Theodore. He sat on the last bench, staring straight at me, his eyes once again a glowing silver color that seemed to blink like starlight in the darkness.

  There were two wooden oars on either side of him, but they were rowing themselves as if by invisible hands while he simply lounged lazily, a curling pipe between his lips puffing smoke into the humid wind.

  His hat was off, sitting on the bench next to him. His suit jacket was wide open, revealing a toned chest that gleamed like midnight velvet in the moonlight. With his feet bare, despite the fine clothing, he looked like some kind of dark god pretending to be human but not quite getting it right.

  “Tell me about this fiancé of yours,” he said out of the blue. His tone was conversational, as if we’d been sitting here for hours telling stories.

  “Excuse me?” I frowned, feeling a sense of unease, but not the dread I’d felt back in the fun house. “Why do you want to know about him?” I didn’t see how Austin had anything to do with this situation.

  Theodore puffed on his pipe a couple of times, letting his eyes run over me. I twisted in my seat so that I could face him fully. A small part of me knew it was so that I didn’t have my back to an obvious predator.

  “You despise the man.”

  It was less of a question and more of a statement disguised as one. Somehow, he knew things about me. He’d already mentioned my grandmother by name, so it didn’t exactly surprise me to hear these accusations, however right he might be.

  “Of course I hate him. He’s an asshole who likes to hit things when he gets mad. Namely my face…”

  I’d said the last part out loud, albeit quietly, but it was too late to snatch the words back.

  “I’m not telling you anything else until I get some real answers.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “You got me on your little boat, and apparently, I can’t leave this place, so you might as well spill.”

  It didn’t have the impact it should’ve had, due to the fact that I was sitting in a gently rocking skiff, trying not to lose my balance. I hoped I didn’t look as stupid as I felt.

  Theodore only blinked at me with that unnerving stillness he se
emed to have perfected.

  “Who are you?” I asked with all the bluntness I could dredge up. I flicked my eyes slowly over the length of him. “Or better yet, what are you, Theodore?”

  I was being bold. Maybe too bold. Maybe even bold enough to piss him off. At this point, I really had nothing to lose. I was lost and alone, and I needed real answers. No more of these fucking riddles and mind games.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out already, blue girl.”

  Groaning, I ran my fingers through my hair in exasperation. “Not you too, please.”

  A smile played on his full, wide lips. “Ah, but I like it too much. One eye brown and one blue, like a cat. Tell me, are you as feisty as one too?”

  I narrowed my eyes on him. “Answer my questions and stop repeating yourself, it’s getting old. I told Bael I’d take my chances with the swamp, and I wasn’t lying.”

  I eyed the murky water, cringing at my own threat. I really didn’t want to have to jump back in there.

  “Is that a threat?” His smile was just shy of vicious.

  “It can be if you don’t start talking.”

  Yep, I was poking the beast. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d brought me out here to feed me to the gators.

  He sat forward, still gently puffing on his pipe. A wisp of smoke blew into my face, smelling like cloves. It wasn’t horrible, but I knew he was doing it to mess with me.

  “What do you think I am, Moria Laveau?” he asked. “Give it a guess, and I’ll tell you everything you need to know and more.”

  I wasn’t sure I believed him. Bael had said something similar, and yet all he’d done was freak me the hell out and present even more questions. But Theodore was offering me a choice here. I could play into his silly game and find out, or I could pout like a child until he got tired of playing.

  I sighed. “If this place is supposed to be the crossroads, then I’m guessing you're some kind of priest?”

  He was certainly dressed like a New Orleans vodou priest, although his outfit wouldn’t have stood out too much sixty years ago either. In a way, he was timeless.

  Theodore chuckled, and the rumble of it tickled my insides in a way I tried to shove down deep. I couldn’t stop staring into his silver eyes. They sucked me in like a vortex of writhing energy. He was as beautiful as he was terrifying.

  “A priest, eh? I suppose you could say that.”

  He smiled to himself, something like amusement flashing over his dark features. He tapped his fingers on his thigh three times.

  “Now tell me who I really am.”

  Swallowing thickly, I didn’t want to say it. A name stuck in my throat, but getting it past my lips was a challenge all on its own.

  Who was this man? I had a feeling I already knew, but everything inside of me ran from it, from the sheer impossibility. But what other explanation was there?

  “You’re Papa Legba,” I said finally after what felt like hours of staring into his eyes. Once it was out, they flashed, the silver swirling like molten starlight once more.

  He had to be Legba. I could feel his essence all around this place. If this really was the infamous crossroads, then Legba had to be nearby. The power that radiated out of Theodore’s every pore was thick and potent and overwhelming. Whatever—whomever he was, I knew he wasn’t human. Not entirely.

  Silence stretched between us. Heavy silence. But then it broke as he threw his head back and laughed. His white teeth gleamed brightly, and something about it was a touch unhinged. My cheeks heated, and I suddenly felt like an idiot.

  Papa Legba? Had I really called him Papa Legba? My embarrassment quickly turned to irritation.

  “Fuck you, Theodore. I’m sick of these mind games. You're the one who asked me about Legba in the first place.” I crossed my arms over my chest uncomfortably and looked away.

  It just sort of…spilled out. But it was the wrong thing to say.

  The air around me grew cold and dark within a heartbeat, and a sudden breeze blew my long hair over my shoulders. I moved to grip the bench beneath me. Theodore was in front of me, as if materializing out of thin air. Our noses were practically touching, and his eyes were once again swallowed up in blackness.

  My heart raced, my stomach threatening to crawl up into my throat as the moonlight and tree branches cast shadows over his dark skin, illuminating that skull again. It was gone before I could study it.

  “You’re going to wish it was only Legba you were dealing with, girl. You have no idea the mess you’ve found yourself in, the danger you’ve stumbled into.”

  He cupped my cheek with a warm hand, running his thumb harshly over my skin as his eyes seemed to drink me in.

  “I am the true keeper of the gates, Moria. I am not here to hold your hand and show you the way. I am the one in the shadows you try so hard to hide from. I am the watcher you should fear. I’m the nightmares haunting your sleep and the hand that will drag you into the darkness if you’re not careful the next time you speak to me.”

  Death and promises laced every word that whispered across my lips from his. He was utterly still, eyes pinning mine in place, holding me captive as we stared at each other. I’d known I’d fucked up the second the words were out, but there was no snatching them back.

  But still, I didn’t like threats. If he wasn’t Legba, then who the hell—

  The world went still.

  Oh my god. Oh god, oh god, no…

  I started to shake despite myself, despite how hard I tried to keep it together. A new kind of terror crawled over my skin, sinking into my bones. Dread, plain and simple, made my head swim and my vision darken.

  Theodore’s lips stretched into a knowing smile. I knew he could see it in my eyes—the understanding, the realization of exactly whom I was speaking to. The fact that I wasn't a pile of bones on the swamp bed right now was a miracle.

  “Met Kalfou…” The name was barely a whisper. It burned my lips coming out.

  His thumb stroked my cheek again, just as roughly as the last time, leaving a scorching sensation in its wake. The hand that held my face had delivered judgement on so many souls before me. Part of me tried to deny it, tried to convince myself that I was stuck in a dream or maybe a trance. Yet looking into his depthless eyes, I knew it was all very real.

  “I like hearing it on your lips,” he whispered.

  His thumb moved from my cheek, dragging over my bottom lip. The touch was sensual and slow, laced with the threat of violence if I spoke out of turn.

  Met Kalfou. Brother to Papa Legba. The darkness to Legba’s light. The punishment to his reward. The evil to his good. Kalfou was the gatekeeper—the one who decided where a soul belonged in the end. He was the punisher of the dead and the legend everyone loved to mistake for Legba.

  And he was the one who’d brought me here.

  “If you’re going to kill me, then why not just get it over with?”

  I was terrified beyond reason. Face-to-face with the subject of a thousand legends, I wasn’t sure how to act.

  He was the tall tale Grandma Annette whispered to me as a child. The boogeyman. The Grim Reaper, I guess you could say. He was everything dark and impossible, yet here he was, staring into my eyes with his thumb stroking my lip.

  Though I was afraid, my body wasn’t exactly getting with the picture. I tingled from head to toe, feeling my belly pool with warmth at his touch. His fingers were powerful but smooth, and his lips were inches from mine.

  Why did Kalfou have to be so damn alluring? Legba was said to appear as a kind, wizened old man, but his brother was suave and beautiful. Perpetually young.

  “You think I brought you all this way just to end your life here in this skiff?” He lifted one brow in amusement. “Come on, girl. You’re Annette Laveau’s granddaughter. I know you’re smarter than that.”

  I went cold at hearing Grandma’s name on his lips again.

  “Leave my grandmother out of this,” I hissed.

  It was probably a bad idea to
argue with the dangerous spirit, but when it came to Grandma, I didn’t care.

  “How do you even know her name, or that I’m even her granddaughter?” Was this some kind of trick? When he didn’t answer me right away, I snapped, “Kalfou—”

  “I believe I asked you to call me Theodore,” he said quickly. “Kalfou is just one of many names I answer to, but among friends, I prefer Theodore.”

  “I’m not your friend,” I snapped.

  Stupid, stupid…

  He grinned again as some of the moonlight caught his black eyes. He sat back on his heels casually, tall enough that it kept him eye level with me. He dragged his fingers over my cheek, his touch fiery hot. When I felt him sift through my wild, wavy hair, a shiver crawled over my skin.

  “You fear me as much as you fear this fiancé of yours, don’t you?” he asked.

  There was a hint of disappointment in his voice. “You’d rather I be Legba, waiting with open arms, sweets, and smiles. Well, I’m afraid that’s impossible. This is the crossroads, and no one enters without my invitation, my brother included.”

  I knew he was telling me the truth.

  Some of it at least. Legba might be another spirit of the crossroads, but he was known for assisting other spirits as they crossed over, rather than souls heading in, especially during rituals.

  It was his job to attend them and to make sure they came and went safely. But Kalfou…he could move about as he pleased. He was more powerful than Legba, the one to watch out for.

  “So you invited me here?” I asked, accusation lacing every word.

  Why would this powerful spirit summon me here specifically? I wasn’t a priestess. I was barely a woman anymore—Austin had seen to that.

  “You asked me how I know your grandmother,” he said.

  His eyes began to fade finally, settling back into that molten silver color that put me more at ease than the black.

  “I know every priest and priestess that honors the loa. Annette is a powerful, highly respected mambo. The moment you crossed into the Carnival of Bones, I could feel her ancestral power on you, inside you. Your bloodline runs deep, Moria. You can't hide from me.”