Voodoo Unleashed
Page 16
It made me doubt Etie’s words.
“You won’t be a part of the spell tonight, cher.” Etie drew me away from the circle. “We’re going to summon someone instead.”
My stomach clenched. “Who?”
“Papa Legba.”
I hid my trembling hands in my jean pockets as Marcus and Etie drew more symbols in chalk on the floor. Energy already crackled in the room, tiny sparks popping against my skin.
My eyes examined the unexpected items they placed inside the circle. Among them were coconut juice, a bag of peanuts, tobacco, and praline candy. Voodoo Myths & Spirits never said anything about offerings to Papa Legba.
Maybe I hadn’t read far enough. I did sort of jump the gun.
Every nerve ending was open and raw. The slightest sound made me jump. All those years ago, reaching out to Papa Legba had been my intent. Instead, I ended up with Baron Samedi, and the weight of our deal suffocating me.
What if something even worse happened tonight?
The candles flickered, and Etie’s head swiveled around. “It’s okay, Angeline. You’ll be okay.” He walked to me, setting the chalk on a table. His warm hand brushed over the chilled skin of my arm, calming me.
Marcus stood and met Etie’s eyes. “Ready to begin?”
Etie gave a curt nod and shot me one more confident look before marching to the edge of the circle. He picked up a small drum and began tapping out a slow rhythm.
And there went all the calm, obliterated and knocked aside by the drum-beat.
Marcus shook a gourd draped in snake bones. “Nou rele Papa Legba. Loa pwisan. Gadò a kwazman nan.”
Oh great. The gourd again.
The candles flared to life as they both chanted in Vondou. With his free hand, Marcus poured the spell mixture from the bowl onto the floor. It sizzled and popped over the symbols. My eyes squinted at the glowing ball of white energy transforming in the air.
A warm, gentle breeze drifted through the room, the opposite of the violent gales that had filled Dumarsais’ cabin.
Etie and Marcus continued to utter words, their chants soft and lyrical unlike the deep, harsh sound of the baron’s voodoo spirits.
“Nou mande w yo vini epi resevwa kado ou. Pote prezans ou. Nou bezwen èd ou.”
The glowing ball twisted and swirled, shifting and expanding into a solid shape. A dark-skinned man now stood in its place.
Papa Legba.
My fingernails bit into my palms, and I waited for shit to hit the fan.
It never did.
In fact, nothing about this voodoo loa screamed danger. There wasn’t an ominous edge or even a hint of malevolence around him. Skin the color of coffee shined in the candlelight dancing off the walls. A loose-fitting russet suit fluttered in the gentle breeze. His presence wasn’t overpowering or demanding.
It was peaceful.
Papa Legba pulled out a pipe from his pocket, the bowl sparking to life without a single flame. “Étienne Benoit.” A cloud of smoke curled from his mouth as he spoke. “You ain’t called on me since you was a tiny babe, the gris-gris around your neck bigger than you.”
Etie crossed his arms and even with his back toward me, I sensed his sardonic expression. “Ah, Papa. I’m much bigger now.”
“I see.” A pair of dark cinnamon eyes roamed toward me. “And with problems just as big, no?”
My body was frozen to the spot, and I was unable to look away from that spellbinding gaze. It was almost as bad as Etie’s, but the voodoo loa didn’t affect me quite the same way.
It still rendered me speechless though.
He turned his attention to the other magic man in the room. “Marcus, you been keeping good on our deal?”
He nodded. “The flowers are growing good and strong Papa.”
Growing flowers? Why couldn’t that have been my trade to save Marisol?
Papa Legba’s head tilted in my direction again, lights shimmering in those tawny orbs. “Let me get a good look at you, Evangeline.” My name didn’t carry the same ominous sound as it did coming from the voodoo king.
Sensing my hesitation, Etie glanced over his shoulder. “Come on, cher. It’s okay.”
My feet finally unstuck from the floor and slowly carried me forward. The erratic beat my heart was tapping out could probably be heard by everyone in the room. When I reached Etie, he rubbed a hand across my back, soothing the tempest raging inside.
Papa Legba took a pull from his pipe again, blowing white smoke into the air. “You got yourself in a big mess, didn’t you?”
Understatement of the decade.
“Yep.”
He clucked his pearly teeth. “The baron knows making deals of gwo-bon ange with children ain’t right. It ain’t allowed.”
“So you can break it?” Etie asked.
Papa Legba shook his head. “No, Étienne. I cannot.”
The bokor’s brows slammed together, and he crossed his arms against his chest. “Why not?”
“The deal was still made regardless, and if I break something like that, Baron Samedi will come after me for compensation. You know voodoo—any magic—is about balance. You can’t get something for nothing.” The voodoo spirit lowered his pipe, scrutinizing it. He noticed the tobacco placed in the circle and stooped, pinching some off. “And the baron has grown too arrogant, and he’s been messing with things he shouldn’t.” His dark eyes seared into me. “Evil things.”
“What are you trying to say?” Marcus edged closer to the circle, drawn in by the loa’s words. “Is the baron tipping the scales in evil’s direction?”
“It’s possible,” Papa Legba said.
Acid oozed up my throat, and my veins chilled. What would happen if the voodoo scales took a nosedive into darkness? And why did I get the feeling there was a hell of a lot more Papa wasn’t saying?
Etie tossed his hands up. “That’s all the more reason to stop him! To let him know he can’t break the rules.”
Marcus flinched at the loud, harsh tone of the Cajun’s voice.
“This ain’t no simple deal,” Papa said. “A gwo-bon ange trade is different, and Baron Samedi wants Evangeline’s soul something awful.”
Um…why? There wasn’t anything special about my soul.
A string of French profanities left Etie’s mouth, and he dragged his fingers through his hair, pulling at the roots. “This can’t be it, Papa! There’s got to be something, no?”
Papa held a hand up as his head slowly drifted up and down. “I can’t break the deal, but Baron Samedi don’t have Evangeline’s soul yet. Think about it, Étienne. If someone else was to bind her soul with—”
His words suddenly cut off, his eyes widening, expression dazed. The color drained from his cheeks, leaving his skin an ashen pallor.
“Papa?” Marcus stepped forward, reaching for the loa.
My pulse raced, and I stepped closer to Etie. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Something was wrong.
Papa Legba’s hand raised before the lougaroo’s feet broke the edge of the circle. He shook his head. A gurgling sound echoed from Papa, and glowing crimson spurted from his mouth.
A gasp escaped Etie, and moments later, the spirit’s chest was ripped open by a long blade.
Chapter 20
My eyes were transfixed on the shimmering blood dripping off the massive blade jutting out of the voodoo deity’s torso. But nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.
The voodoo king stepped out from behind Papa Legba, his top hat forming from black smoke.
My scream rattled the room.
“Awe, a shame your visit was cut short.” He yanked the knife out with a hard twist, more unearthly blood spilling across the floor.
Bile coated the back of my throat, sour and unforgettable. He just killed another voodoo deity—and it was my fault. My vision spotted black, and I felt my body falling forward.
“Angeline.” Etie grabbed my arm and yanked me back, blocking me from Baron Samedi’s view.
“He will be fine,” Marcus growled, his burning eyes trained on Baron Samedi. “You can’t kill either one of them.”
A cruel smile curled the baron’s lips. “That’s right. We cannot die because we are eternal.” He shoved Papa Legba to the floor. “But we can be indisposed of for a minute.” He nudged the fallen loa with his boot. “Papa will be back in—oh, I don’t know—two weeks.”
An invisible fist punched through my chest and squeezed my heart. Whatever Papa Legba had been trying to tell Etie was lost to us. By the time he recovered, my eighteenth birthday would have come and gone.
Exactly what the voodoo king wanted.
Papa Legba began losing shape. His body melted into glowing lights until each one faded and disappeared.
The air filled with electricity. Etie’s power.
A deep, sinister laugh slithered from the voodoo king’s mouth, shaking the room. “Ah, Étienne Benoit. Even as powerful as you are, you can’t stop me. She’s mine, boy. Been mine since we made the deal. Ain’t no going back.”
Etie’s eyes glowed. “We’ll see.”
Baron Samedi cocked his head. “You willing to tap into the power you hide from just for her?” Those unsettling obsidian eyes turned to me. “I get it. Eve-angel-ine’s a prize for certain.”
Dark shadows crawled along the walls, and ominous chants spilled through the atmosphere. The scent of death followed, signaling the presence of the baron’s voodoo spirits.
I remained close to Etie despite the electrical zaps rippling along my skin from his power.
The baron licked his lips, a sliver of smoke coiling out. “My spirits are very fond of Eve-angel-ine. They’ve been begging to play with her again.”
Shudders coasted down my back. A flutter of cold wind was the only warning before a force slammed into me. My grip slipped off Etie, and I stumbled toward the dark shadows.
A gasp choked my airways as the spirits rushed me. My heart treated my ribcage like a battering ram as I fought off the cold fingers grabbing me.
“Pote l 'tounen!” Etie shouted.
I was shoved backward, caught by strong, solid arms.
The baron danced inside of the circle. A thin cigar hung from his mouth, the sickly sweet scent mixing with death. “Had I known this would be so entertaining, I would have come and said hello long before now.” The crimson scarf on his hat fluttered in an icy wind.
Etie ignored him and swung me around, putting himself in the path of danger. “I will banish you from this room, Baron Samedi, if you don’t leave on your own.”
His head tilted back, loud laughter bouncing off the walls. “You banish me? Do you really think you can? You got to reach deep for that power, boy. You ain’t done that since your papa was here.”
“Mwen bani ou,” Etie snarled.
The gourd and the drum began to play. Marcus sat on the floor, controlling each instrument with sharp, precise movements. His eyes were glazed over, staring into space.
Ice coated my veins, seeping into every cell. This was going to be bad.
When I reached for Etie, he flinched. “Don’t touch me right now,” he growled, tremors overtaking his body.
I inched away and swallowed a thick lump in my throat. Was he pissed he had to use so much power because of me?
“Mwen bani ou Baron Samedi. Retounen nan peyi a moun ki mouri a.” Energy crackled and popped along my skin. The air was heavy with anticipation, as if a lightning storm was on the horizon.
Etie ripped his shirt over his head, his arms held wide. The muscles in his back were taut, coiling and flexing as he chanted. A trickle of sweat rolled down his spine. The droplet shimmered on the intricate snake tattoo. The scales even seemed to move across his skin.
No. They didn’t seem to move. They were moving.
My eyes widened, and my body stood frozen. A distinct rattling joined the drums, the gourd, and Etie’s chanting. A voodoo spell was emerging from deep inside the pouvior bokor.
This wasn’t something you could read in a book. This wasn’t something any voodoo Joe off the street could do. It couldn’t be replicated or even transcribed.
This was the light and dark magic living inside Etie. It was the reason his father wanted to use him. It was the reason people were afraid of him.
Power coated Etie, making the hairs on my nape stand on end. It was sharp and electric. Pungent and thrilling. The voodoo spirits slinked further from me as if the air was toxic. I was standing behind Etie, so it probably was.
The Baron’s head tilted back as mocking laughter rolled out. “Bring it on, Étienne.” He clapped, baring his white teeth. “Show me what you got, boy!”
The scales on the snake shimmered, transforming from tan skin to deep, glittering swirls of forest green and ocean blue. A forked tongue peeked out, tasting the environment.
The damn thing was alive.
The snake climbed up Etie’s shoulder, slithering down the front of his chest as he furiously chanted. His voice deepened, and the drums and gourd played faster.
I should’ve been frightened. I should’ve been shaking in my boots.
But I wasn’t.
Instead, I found myself creeping forward, peering at Etie’s face. A gasp clogged my throat at what I saw.
Harsh lines slashed his features, and his teeth were gritted. Stone was softer than the expression he wore. His eyes were glowing so bright, they could have been different colored stars in a deeply bronzed sky. If that look had been directed at me, I would have run away screaming.
The snake’s head was no longer attached to Etie’s skin, but leaping off his chest. I could have touched the forked tongue slithering out.
“Kite sèk sa a. San pral sele li.” Etie brought his hand to the snake’s mouth. The mystical reptile sank its fangs into the fleshy part of his thumb.
Panic spiked through my veins, and without thinking, I touched Etie. A jolt of energy ricocheted between us.
A sharp intake of air tore from the voodoo caster, and his head fell back. The veins and tendons in his neck protruded, his body straining as power flooded him. His arm curled around my waist, pinning me to him.
My squeal of surprise was muffled against his chest. My muscles tensed as electric waves rolled over me. My flesh prickled, and my ears popped.
The voodoo king’s obsidian eyes widened, and the sardonic smile fell from his lips.
“Mwen bani ou!” Etie flung the hand the snake bit, blood splattering the floor inside the circle.
The symbols glowed a bright shade of green, and the air sizzled. A sulfuric scent curled through the room. I would have choked on it had I not pressed my face against Etie’s bare chest again. His own herbal scent saved me from it.
A blast of energy expelled from Etie, knocking us a few steps back. I peeked up as it hit Baron Samedi square in the chest.
A guttural growl tore from the depths of the voodoo king. His onyx eyes burned deep crimson like the smoldering fires of hell.
Those blood-colored orbs were the last things I saw before a flash of light swept the room.
He was gone.
The rattling gourd and the beat of the drum ceased. The only sound left was our heavy breathing and slithering of scales as the snake slid around Etie’s back. He found his position again, sinking into skin and returning to a tattoo.
Holy voodoo babies. When Bastien said his brother was powerful, it was an understatement.
Etie’s pulse thundered in my ears, matching my own. He blinked several times, trying to clear the magic from his eyes.
“Are you okay?” My voice sounded so tiny compared to the thunderous echoes that had filled the room moments ago.
His gaze swirled with emotions, an unnatural illumination still lighting them.
A hard rock sank to the bottom of my stomach. He had to dive deep into voodoo for me this time. How was I any different than his father? We both
used him for his power.
Etie’s nostrils flared, and I was certain the next emotion taking center stage would be anger.
Instead, his other arm came around me, and I was suddenly crushed against his bare chest. “I’m sorry, Angeline,” he whispered, his voice ragged. “I never wanted you to see me like that. I never wanted—”
“I wasn’t afraid of you,” I blurted, my words muffled.
He pulled back as pain flashed across his face. “I was.”
“You are in some deep shit.” Marcus’s body trembled, and sweat gleamed over his dark skin. “A voodoo deity taking on another like that?” He whistled. “Some bad juju.”
“Shut up,” Etie growled and towed me toward the table, leaning me up against it. His gaze roamed over me with an intensity that made me shiver. “You okay, cher? You’re not hurt?”
An image of the snake biting him flashed through my mind. I snatched his hand, pulling it to my face. My thumb ran across the unmarred surface. “What…?”
“Magic,” he reminded me.
I nodded. “Right.”
Marcus mopped sweat from his forehead with a rag. “What do you think Papa Legba was trying to tell you?”
Etie shook his head. “I’m not sure. Something about binding her gwo-bon ange.”
“He won’t be back in time to tell us.” I chewed my bottom lip to keep it from trembling. Time was running out, and we weren’t any closer to breaking the deal.
Etie’s brows pulled together, his jaw clenching. “I’ll find out what he meant, Angeline. I’ll find a way. I promise.”
I wanted to believe him, but things looked bleak. We had less than a week to find a chink in the voodoo king’s deal, or I was headed for the spirit world, and it promised anything but peace.
Chapter 21
Etie draped a long-sleeved flannel shirt over my shoulders, the material coated in his scent. His hands rubbed my arms to warm me. “I’ll get you a drink.” He stood and rummaged through a cabinet.
My finger traced a chip in his kitchen table, my mind trying to focus on the feel of it and not the doom threatening to take over.