by Angie Sandro
Mala’s bitter-chocolate eyes meet mine, and she smiles. “Do I look pretty?” She spins in a circle. The silky white dress clings to her curves, leaving nothing to the imagination. Hell, even in my wildest fantasy—and I’ve had plenty about Mala—I’ve never pictured her so stunningly beautiful.
Her traditional braid has been transformed into shiny spiral curls that frame her face in a layered cut that tumbles to her waist. The overhead lights bring out auburn highlights in her brown hair. She looks like she tumbled out of bed after having amazing sex.
I swallow hard, studying her face. She glows. “You have on makeup,” I accuse.
Mala blinks, then smiles with red lips.
Would her kiss taste like strawberries? How would her lips feel on my body? I fall back. Luckily I hadn’t moved too far from the chair. I sit down hard, clutching the armrests. Oh, God, why can’t I stop thinking about sex?
Ferdinand strides across the room to lift Mala’s hand. He brushes a kiss across her knuckles like some aristocratic dude from Downton Abbey. And she giggles. Giggles! What the hell? Why didn’t I think to do that?
Makeup. That’s the best I could come up with. Pathetic. I deserve to have her stolen from me. Except I can handle losing her to Georgie Porgie, but not to this guy. Never.
The heat of jealousy flows through my body. I cross the room and insert myself between Mala and Ferdinand, taking her hand from his and wrapping it around my arm. Mala’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t complain or make a joke at my expense. Instead she gifts me with a smile of my very own.
“You look handsome,” she says.
I glance down at the white flowing cotton trousers and button-up shirt. “Can’t go to a party looking like the help.”
She brushes back my bangs, and I flinch. Her mouth tightens, but she doesn’t ask why I didn’t cut my hair. Maybe someday I’ll feel comfortable enough not to try to hide my eye, but not today.
Sophia claps her hands. “You both look stunning.”
I snort. “We’d better, after spending the entire day primping.”
Mala steps on my toe.
“Oh, sorry,” she drawls, covering her mouth with her hand. Faker. She bats insanely long eyelashes at me. “I’m not used to wearing high heels yet.” She glances at Sophia. “You’re right. They don’t pinch.”
Ferdinand waves us forward. “We should go. Queen Magnolia’s waiting,” he says, and again, I’m surprised by his thick French Creole accent. It’s different from the one I’m used to. He sounds more like he’s from Haiti than Louisiana.
I try not to roll my eyes over the queen business. It sounds ridiculous. Mala doesn’t even try to be tactful. She hides a smirk behind her hand, and I prod her forward. Ferdinand and Sophia head for the front door. The tiny employee behind the cash register watches us leave with wide eyes.
“Hey, Ferdie,” I call to his back. “What about paying—”
“Magnolia owns this boutique,” Sophia says with a smile. “Come.”
Night has settled, but it’s not dark. Not with the neon lights. A zydeco band plays one of my favorite songs, “La Vielle Chanson de Mardi Gras,” on the corner before a packed sidewalk of drunken tourists. The stench of ripe bodies, booze, and spices fill the heated air. Energy crackles, filling me with anticipation.
Mala stares around with shining eyes. “I love this song!” she yells up at me.
I nod, wrapping my arm around her waist, afraid she’ll get lost in the crowd. She sways in my arms, her hips rubbing and dipping against me in time with the high-octane accordion and fiddle playing. She’s totally pumped up. I’ve never seen her so happy. If anyone deserves it, she does. I’m just glad to be able share this with her.
Ferdinand stands curbside with his hand in the air. A white stretch limousine pulls up in front of us. It feels like I’m going to prom. The chauffeur gets out and runs over to open the door with a wide grin. Mala and I follow Ferdinand and Sophia inside. They sit in the seats stretching down the left side of the limo, while Mala and I sit in the seats by the open door. Along the right side of the limo is a full bar with a bottle of champagne on ice, wineglasses, and a tray of cheese and crackers.
Mala scrunches closer. She crosses her leg, and I suck in a breath when it rubs against mine. The sweet floral scent of her perfume fills my nose as she lays her head against my shoulder with a sigh.
“As fantastic as it feels to be dressed up and heading to a party in a limo, I kind of wish we could go back to the hotel,” she whispers. “My feet hurt.”
“I thought they didn’t pinch?”
“My shopping-induced endorphins have run out.”
I lift her foot off the ground and slide off her shoe. I rub my thumbs along the indentation on the sole of her foot. She wiggles her toes and lets out a little moan that sounds an awful lot like a purr. “That feels so good.”
“We don’t need to go to a party. I could entertain you for the night.” Damn, did that sound cheesy?
“Tempting.” Mala slides her hand up my thigh. “Magnolia might not approve.”
Our eyes clash. I don’t know what she sees in mine, but the heat filling her gaze transfers like I’ve set my hand on a hot skillet. It’s probably for the best that we don’t go back to the hotel. I love the dress, but I can’t stop thinking about slowly stripping her one layer at a time. I can only imagine what lacy, frilly lingerie she’s wearing beneath the dress. Or…what if she’s going commando?
Would it be awkward if I kiss her?
Sophia leans forward, breaking the mood before I make a fool out of myself. “Would you like some champagne?” She nods to Ferdinand who holds up a sweating bottle.
“Why not?” I glance at Mala and shrug. “You?”
“Sure, we’re celebrating tonight.” She leans forward, reaching for the glass. The front of her dress gapes, and her breasts spill forward in rounded mounds that would fit in my tingling palms, if not for the bra holding them hostage.
My hand trembles with the need to liberate them, and champagne sloshes over the rim of the glass to run down my fingers. I lick it off before it drips onto my white slacks and catch Mala staring at my mouth.
The tip of her tongue flicks her bottom lip, and my throat tightens. Heat rushes down to settle deep inside me. I’ve never been so turned on in my life.
Thank God the trousers I’m wearing are loose fit or I’d be totally exposed. I shift and cross my leg to block Mala’s view, only to find another pair of eyes focused on the bulge in my pants. Sophia stares with glazed eyes. A slight smile lifts the corners of her lips. Her gaze travels upward slowly. When our eyes meet, she doesn’t look away. I read the invitation in the slight tilt of her eyes, the knowing smile, and the way she runs her hands down her thighs as if imagining my hands on her body.
The predatory desire in her gaze makes my stomach twist with a flood of revulsion as the beautiful mask she wore all day slides off.
I down the champagne in one gulp, then reach for the bottle again.
Mala intercepts my hand and presses her glass into it. “Take mine. I don’t really like it.”
“Not your thing?”
She shakes her head and leans forward to whisper in my ear, “It tastes like cat piss.”
Sophia pours another glass and holds it out to her. “It’ll grow on you. Like the shoes.”
Mala waves the glass away with a flick of her manicured fingers. “I’m not cultured enough to enjoy it, and I’m too stubborn to fake it. Guess Magnolia’s going to be disappointed. The hotel, fancy boutiques—I’m not fit to be an heiress. Hell, I’m not even sure if I want it.” Her fingers wrap around my hand. “I like my life the way it is.”
“Unfortunately, you don’t have a choice. You have a responsibility to the people who will depend upon you when Queen Magnolia passes,” Sophia says. “You’ll meet her followers tonight. When you look into their eyes, you’ll see their need. You’ll feel their desire. They will welcome you into their hearts.”
Mala stiffe
ns. “Your sales pitch sucks. The last thing I want is to feel some strangers’ desires or be in their hearts. That’s fucking creepy.”
“I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“I’m not frightened, Sophia. I’m fed up with the cryptic bullshit. Where are you taking us? Why are we going?” Mala asks the questions so fast that Sophia doesn’t have a chance to answer. “And why is it so damn far away? You know what’s going to happen. Why won’t you tell us…”
Her words echo in my ears. I close my eyes. The words float in the air, hanging before my eyes in vivid neon. I squeeze her hand to get her to stop. The words are blinding me. “Calm down. Magnolia probably told them to keep quiet.”
“But why?”
“Your aunt seems the sort who likes surprises. We’ll find out soon. Whatever happens, I’ll be by your side.”
“You’d better be.”
“I swear. You couldn’t ditch me if you tried.”
The motion of the car changes as the road becomes bumpier. Each time the car lurches, my head aches. I press my fingers to my temple, rubbing the throbbing vein that feels like it’s about to explode. Why did I down those glasses of champagne? I haven’t had a sip of alcohol since my arrest—not even pruno, the fermented concoction my cellmate hid in the toilet tank. Obviously, my tolerance has lowered in the last months.
The tinted windows coupled with the glare from the inside lights makes it hard to see outside, but we’ve left New Orleans behind. Thick trees line the dirt road. It’s secluded—the perfect place for a serial killer to dismember and hide his or her prey.
Mala’s paranoia’s beginning to rub off on me.
I glance at Sophia again, then focus on Ferdinand, who sits in the back corner playing with his cell phone. He seems completely at ease. And bored out of his skull.
“Does this property belong to Magnolia?” I ask.
Sophia sighs. “You’ll see soon enough.”
Mala and I share a grimace. I hate not knowing what’s going on. The vibe in the car gets even funkier. But maybe it’s me. The tension ratchets up a level, but my body doesn’t respond the way it should. My muscles loosen instead of tighten. I want to say something to Mala about it, but she’s calmed down. I don’t want to worry her again just ’cause I can’t hold my liquor.
The car comes to a halt. The door opens, and the chauffeur is a bulky shadow in the doorway. I scoot out and reach inside for Mala. Her moist hand slips into mine and turns into a death grip that makes me wince. Sophia and Ferdinand follow us out while we try to get our bearings. The car’s parked in a clearing with a bunch of other vehicles, but nobody’s around but us. In the distance, the faint sound of drumming and singing echoes through the woods. The thick, humid air wraps around my body like a warm shower.
A flick of a lighter and the area lights up from the flame of a torch. Why don’t they just carry a flashlight? It’s not the 1800s, and I’m not impressed by the sideshow.
“This way,” Ferdinand says, leading us into the woods. The dirt trail almost disappears in front of us due to the fading light.
Paranoia replaces the lethargy sapping my energy. I feel eyes watching, an evil presence thick with malevolence. Each step leads us deeper into its grip. Soon we won’t be able to escape. We’ll be trapped, overwhelmed, and devoured. My breath comes hard and quick. I wipe sweaty palms on my trousers, trying to pull myself together.
A warm hand touches my arm, and I stagger.
Mala squeezes my bicep. “Are you okay?”
I don’t know how to tell her I’m losing it without sounding like an idiot. If I could clear the fuzz out of my head, I’d be all right, but it’s only getting harder to tell the difference between reality and delusion. I never should’ve drunk those two glasses of champagne. It’s more potent than a bottle of Jack. I’m totally spun.
I take Mala’s hand and slide her arm through mine. “I can’t see. Everything’s blurry.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall,” she mutters. “It’d be better to ditch the torch and go without. It totally ruins our night vision. The full moon’s enough for us to see by.”
“For you, maybe. You’re used to running through the bayou by the light of the moon.” My increasingly mushy thoughts make speaking the words a battlefield of effort, but I get them out without slurring. “Normal city folk would get lost in two seconds. Or start thinking about all the things out here that could eat us.”
“Like a rougarou? Vampires out to suck your blood, muwahahaa…” Her lilting voice shows she’s not taking my fear seriously. But yeah, I could totally imagine something jumping out of the bushes to eat us.
My flesh ripples as the creature beneath my skin stretches, and I grit my teeth against the pain. With each step, my mind gets foggier. My thoughts come slower, and my fear grows deeper. The voices and drumming grow louder. Soon each beat pulses inside my body.
We leave the woods and step onto an open field dotted with ancient tombstones and decaying wooden crosses. In the middle of this cemetery, a large bonfire casts light on men and women dressed in white, swaying to the music of drums. Some kneel before a large stone covered in food, bottles, and candles. Ferdinand leads us through the dancers. The heat of the fire warms my skin. Thick smoke, pungent with herbs, curls through my nostrils to fill my lungs with each breath.
My muscles ripple as the snake stretches in its sleep, then awakens to the drums. I fall to my knees. Pain rolls my eye back. I try to fight, but I’m too weak or it’s too strong. The alien awareness smashes through the mental walls I have built to hold it back until, with a hard thrust, I’m displaced—shoved deep into a corner of my mind to watch in horror.
CHAPTER 24
MALA
Zombie Rising
I lose track of Landry in the crowd.
People swarm around us when we enter the clearing. The noise of the drums, the singing and laughing, it overwhelms my senses. I’m not comfortable in large social situations. If Landry were with me, I could bear it, but not alone. If I could find a quiet corner to hide in, I’d be huddled there right now. Instead I have Ferdinand holding onto my arm as he drags me toward the altar and Magnolia. My aunt sees me and grins. Her face looks like carved oak, hard and wrinkled. She exudes power, every inch the queen with her high white turban and long cotton skirt.
Her aura ripples, visible in the firelight.
I want out of here. As if the crowd reads my thoughts, they press closer, totally invading my personal space, and I cringe away from their groping hands, almost dancing in a circle to avoid their touch. My skin tingles, and goose bumps rise. I try to shove away my unease, but it only grows worse. Shimmers radiate like halos above their skin. Landry said ghosts shine. Half of the dancers are dressed in silver light.
Speaking of…where did Landry go?
Ferdinand grabs my arm when I turn back to find Landry.
“Let go!” I twist my arm, breaking free of Ferdinand’s grip. Just because he’s bigger, stronger, and has a penis doesn’t mean he can force me to do what he wants.
He lifts his hands into the air, placating me with a smile. My breath catches. Damn, he’s fine. Where in the world did Magnolia find him and Sophia? The perfect minions. Her sacrifices would willingly follow them to her altar without a second thought, magnetized by their beauty.
Oh crap, bad thought. I’m at her altar.
“Mala Jean Marie, you don’t look like you’re having fun yet.” Magnolia cackles. Crazy old bat. She hands me a wooden cup filled with thick red liquid. My nose scrunches at the coppery tang beneath the spice. “Drink.”
“I don’t think so.”
“It’s not poison. It’ll help you relax.”
“I don’t want to relax. If everyone else is relaxing, who’ll drive us home? I’ll be the designated driver tonight. I don’t mind.” I push the drink away and step back. Hands keep me from running. I shrug away from Ferdinand. “Don’t touch me.”
“I need your help tonight, cher. And you need
mine. Don’t you feel the spirits calling out to you?”
“Is that why my skin feels like it’s creeping off my bones?” I glance around the area. In the middle of the circle, I see dark hair. Landry’s surrounded by spirits, their hands trace over his body. He’s oblivious to them, in his own world as he turns in a circle with his arms outstretched. Each step takes him closer and closer to the fire.
“Shit!” I step toward him, but I’m yanked back by my arm. “Damn it, Ferdinand. Let go.”
Magnolia snaps her fingers in front of my face, capturing my attention. “Landry’s fine. Sophia will watch over him. She won’t let the spirits suck him dry, though they want to. Oh my, yes. He’s a tasty soul for those who have the palate for such things.” She waves to Ferdinand. In a quick motion, he lifts me over his shoulder.
I scream, slapping at his back. “Put me down! Magnolia, what’s going on?”
Magnolia leans on her cane as she hobbles, leading us from the party. “Landry has his own curse to bear. I don’t want what’s inside him interfering with what we need to do tonight.”
I twist my head up so I can see her. “Do what? I promised I’d cooperate so you could teach me how to control my powers. You don’t have to toss me around like a bag of bones. Landry understands. He won’t interfere.”
“He will if he thinks you’re in danger.”
My heart skips a beat. “Oh, hell…”
Magnolia’s footsteps stop. I try to wriggle to the side to see around Ferdinand, but he’s too damn wide. He grabs my waist and heaves. One minute I’m dangling over his shoulder and the next, flying through the air. I land on my feet but stumble over a rock. I topple backward, falling on top of a pile of loose dirt. All the air shoots out of my lungs. I roll off the dirt pile, whimpering.
Oh crap! Falling again.
This time I land on something soft and squishy, but the back of my head bounces off something hard. A gaseous smell of decay puffs upward, and I gag. Darkness covers my vision. Pain flares, rolling outward to fill every inch of my body. When I open my eyes, I see walls of earth on either side, opening up to a star-filled sky. Magnolia and Ferdinand stare down at me.