by Angie Sandro
“Get out of the grave, Mala Jean.” Mama whispers the plaintive warning in my ear. “This is bad juju. You’ve got to get out of here.”
I jerk upright, spinning around, but I don’t see her. Only the corpse I landed on. The wet, black, viscous stuff on my arms and coating my dress came from inside the body—rotting, decomposing flesh sticks to my skin and won’t brush off. I stagger back, falling against the dirt wall. My throat burns from my screams. Hands grab me beneath the arms and lift. When my feet touch the ground, I fall away from Ferdinand, scrambling as far from the grave as I can on shaking legs.
Cold fingers press into my skin. “Mala, run.” Mama’s fear kicks mine up to officially freaking-out level.
Magnolia kneels by the grave. “Well, that’s not good. You done broke the girl’s head. How am I supposed to raise this child when you done smashed her up so bad?”
I’m frantically wiping the girl’s stinking, gooey insides off on the thick grass. It takes a few seconds to realize Magnolia asked me a question. Another few to remember how to answer her. Fury shoots through me, and I quiver with the desire to punch someone.
I ball up my fists so I don’t do something stupid.
“You’re crazy! Raise her up? Raise…she’s dead. For a long time. Oh God…I feel sick.” This is so much worse than touching Lainey Prince, at least she wasn’t rotting. Or covered with maggots. Are maggots eating me too? I roll onto my knees as my stomach launches itself up my throat. The lobster etouffee I ate for lunch covers the ground in a mushy pile and sticks in my throat as I gag. The smell of the body mingles with the smell of my lunch, and I vomit again.
Magnolia goes to her satchel and pulls out a small leather bag. “I took this girl’s parents’ money and made them promises. Said I’d give them their child back. Didn’t guarantee what condition she’d be in.” She shrugs her narrow shoulders but doesn’t stop riffling through the satchel during her instruction. “Magic can work miracles. You’ve seen my Etienne. He was dead almost half a year before I brought him back. This girl’s not gone so long. The trick is stitching her soul back inside. Some want to return to the land of the living. Others prefer to stay on the other side. Together we can draw her from wherever she’s hiding and stuff her back in her body where she belongs.”
Magnolia believes what she’s saying. That’s the scary part. Before I would’ve doubted stitching souls were even possible. Now? Not so much. Nor is my belief, or lack of, what matters.
No, what’s important is I swore not to dabble in dark magic. Raising the dead has to be the darkest.
“Hell, no. This is wrong. Etienne is wrong, Magnolia.” I crawl backward, but Ferdinand steps into my path. His long legs stretch higher than the walls of the grave. He grabs the back of my dress and lifts me to my feet. Pain from my bruises makes me whimper in protest. My legs wobble, not ready to hold my weight, but I stiffen my knees. “I won’t help you.”
“You’ve already helped, cher.”
Magnolia points her finger. A flicker of silvery light shines over the grave. It’s hard to make out what it is. I focus on it. Is this the girl in the casket? Why isn’t she corporeal like the other ghosts that haunt me?
“Because the other spirits haven’t passed over to the other side,” Magnolia says.
Witch read my mind again.
“Look hard, Mala. Do you see her now?”
I squint, trying to pick out individual features. Her head comes into focus first. Thick, tight curls twist around her ears. Eyes, sorrowful pits in her skull, sit above flaring nostrils. Her mouth stretches wide in a silent scream that sends an echoing shiver down my spine. She claws at her face with long fingernails, writhing in the air, a twisting, shimmering flicker.
It hurts to watch. Her pain transmits itself into me, and I crumble. Only Ferdinand’s hands keep me from toppling headfirst back into the grave. But from this bent-over position, I can see inside the casket. Wooden torches have been stuck into the earthen walls. Candles flare to life, casting light over the body.
The spirit hovers over the body.
“It hurts her to be so close but not inside, Mala.” Magnolia sprinkles a handful of powder over the body, then takes my hand. Her skin feels oily to the touch. No matter how hard I pull, she won’t let me go. “Stop fighting me.”
“Never.”
“How long are you gonna act the child and let this girl suffer? She didn’t deserve to die so young. The man who killed her should’ve known better than to drink and drive. He didn’t even apologize to the family or go to the memorial service. He sat in a bar and drank until he passed out the day this girl was buried.”
“He should be in jail.”
“Yes, but he’s not. Hit and run. He’s getting away with murder.”
“That’s not right.” The girl stands in the air over her body. She’s fully corporeal now. I can see her like I can any live person. She’s a lot younger than I am. Maybe twelve. Too young to die. I frown at Magnolia. “If it was a hit and run, how do you know all of this?”
Magnolia shrugs. “Same way you’d know if you’d stop fighting your gifts. This girl’s death was an imbalance. A black stain on the universe. She deserves to grow up and have babies. She won’t now unless we give her a second chance. You want her to have that chance, don’t you?”
This isn’t right, but I’m not sure why. Magnolia’s words twist and weave their way into my head. I try to follow the course they’re taking. The girl stretches out her hand, and I reach for it. Her life flashes between us. In an instant, I see her birth, her life, and…the horror of her…of Lily’s death.
The car sped toward her. Lily froze, knowing she didn’t have time to get out of its path. Her eyes closed. The sudden shock of pain opened them when her head smashed against the windshield. She rolled across the hood and crashed onto the asphalt. I clutch my chest against the double agony of betrayal that Lily felt while lying in the road, bleeding and begging for help, only to have the man drive over her one last time to make sure she was dead.
Darkness consumed her spirit…like it took Landry.
So much fear.
“Oh my God, the bastard murdered her. It wasn’t an accident. He could’ve called for help, but he didn’t. He ran her over again.”
“He did, didn’t he? A man like that deserves to die. Not this girl.”
“Yes.”
“Put her back into her body, Mala.”
I shake my head. Why can’t I think? “I don’t know how.”
Magnolia squeezes my hand. “Focus on the hate you feel for the man. Pull on it and use the energy to push Lily back into her body.”
My hate feels tangible. Like I could suck on it like a lollipop. It rolls around in my mouth, leaving a bitter aftertaste. This girl deserves to live. I can give her another chance. My hand in Magnolia’s grip tingles. The air crackles with lightning strikes. The sparks bring the sharp scent of ozone. Magnolia shifts the hate-funneled energy from herself to me, and I push it back. Back and forth. We draw it out, spinning it like a yarn ball. Only I won’t be knitting a sweater. I’m stitching a soul.
The pit of my stomach clenches as I shove Lily toward her body. She screams, confused, but it’s for the best. She’ll get another chance to go to prom, to learn how to drive, to get a boyfriend and have kids of her own someday. She’ll be alive.
She’ll thank me.
I’m not sure when I blacked out, but I wake up in Ferdinand’s arms. He has me cradled against his chest like I’m an infant. The warmth of the fire and the beats of the drums almost lull me back into unconsciousness. My body feels heavy. I can barely hold my head upright. “Did it work?”
The chuckle rumbles deep in Ferdinand’s chest. It tickles. “The girl will be reunited with her parents after she recovers. Justice has been served. Her murderer has taken her place in the afterlife.”
The hiss hurts my bruised ribs. “What?”
“Everything is balanced. For life to be restored, it must also be taken.”
/> I shove forward. Ferdinand drops my legs, holding on to my arms so I don’t do a complete face-plant. I yank free of his grasp, breathing hard. My mind turns his words over. Did he say what I think he said?
Ferdinand moves toward me, and I take a quick step out of reach. “Is there a problem?” he asks in his honey-gold accent.
I shiver, rubbing my arms. “Hell, yes! What do you mean by balance? Are you telling me the guy who ran over that girl’s dead now? As in, by raising her from the dead, I killed him?”
“He exchanged places with her.”
I swallow hard. “How?”
“I don’t know. The universe decides.”
“So this could be complete bullshit. You have no idea.” I scrub my face. No, no. Ridiculous. I’m getting played. “Where’s Magnolia?”
“She and Etienne have taken the girl to recuperate where prying eyes won’t see.”
Convenient. I don’t want to think about this anymore. I did not kill that guy. No way, I’m not a murderer. Or a pawn of the universe used to right an injustice with…magic.
I can barely hold myself upright. My muscles ache, like I’ve been working out too long. Ferdinand reaches for me again, but I shove him away. As hot as he is, the idea of his touch makes my stomach churn. “I don’t believe you.”
“I shouldn’t have told you.” His heavy eyebrows lower over his beautiful eyes. Eyes I want to scratch out. Coming here was a huge mistake. I knew it when I made the promise to apprentice with Magnolia. The woman is evil, no matter how pretty a bow she wraps around the use of our gifts. How did I let myself get sucked into her world?
“I want to go home.”
Ferdinand crosses his muscular arms. “The queen said I could take you back to the hotel.”
“No! I want to go home.” I search the dancers for Landry. He promised to stay at my side. Why hasn’t he come to find me? I take a deep breath, focusing on Landry. The tip of my nose tingles as his scent—faint and acrid, like battery acid’s eating away at his insides—filters into my nostrils. While still a little freaked out over becoming a human bloodhound, this new ability to hone in on Landry’s scent comes in handy.
It’s not how he normally smells. It’s the smell of fear.
“Landry’s in trouble.” I shuffle forward. “Ferdinand, help me find him.”
I shove through the crowd. The ghosts surround me, whispering in my ears. I ignore them, but they fight for my attention. The live people have no idea about the spirits. They dance and sing, unaware of the hidden realm among them.
“Where’s Sophia?”
Ferdinand shrugs.
I stop and stare at him. A shiver raises goose bumps on my arms. “You’re lying. She’s with Landry, isn’t she?”
I saw how she looked at him. How Landry couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. His fear grows stronger. The stench fills the air. He needs my help.
A woman with a boa constrictor wrapped around her neck steps from the crowd and wraps her arm around Ferdinand’s waist. He smiles down at her then leans forward to kiss the snake on its head.
Not needing to see how much further he plans to take his snake love, I slip away, following Landry’s scent from the cemetery into the woods. Beneath the trees, I see conjoined shadows. Sophia straddles Landry prone body. He writhes beneath her. She has his hand pinned to the ground over his head and kisses him as if she’s diving for his tonsils.
A sharp burst of pain settles in my chest, and I release the breath in an inarticulate yell.
Sophia doesn’t even remove her mouth, but her eyes flick up to meet mine. A smug smile curves the sides of her lips. Her smile goads me into a shambling run. I bury my fingers in her long, silky hair and try to rip it out of her scalp. She falls back with a scream. Her arms flail as she tries to smack me. I hold her hair with both hands and drag her backward. The strands are long enough that I don’t get within arm’s reach of her fists…at first. Once she’s away from Landry, I release her.
“You bitch,” she screams, scrambling across the ground.
My kick hits her in the ribs, and she falls onto her side. I don’t wait to see if she recovers but run to fall beside Landry. I lift his head onto my lap, trying to protect him as he convulses.
I shake him, begging “Wake up, please. Landry!” Only the white of his eye shows, and his mouth hangs open as he sucks in huge gulps of air. He looks like he’s dying. I hold him tighter. “What did you do to him, Sophia?”
Sophia rises. She runs a thumb across her lips then sucks on the tip. “I love the taste of power. He has so much built up inside. He must not have found a satisfying release in a long time. No wonder he came to me so easily.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. Think I’m too stupid to tell that he’s been drugged? He would never, ever, give this up”—I wave my hand down my body—“for an old hag. I see your hidden face, Sophia.” And I do.
Whatever magical spell she cast over herself no longer works on me. She now looks like a middle-age woman with crow’s feet and slightly sagging skin. I sense her frustration and anger at the loss of her youth. I can understand her wanting to be with a younger man. I even get why she would hate me for taking her place as Magnolia’s heir. Sophia’s probably been kissing my aunt’s wrinkled ass for years in the hope of getting into the will. Logically, I understand.
Maybe if I were a better person, I could forgive her deception, if it hadn’t involved attempted rape.
But I’m not, and it did.
I curl my fingers, imagining them digging through her skin. Her scream sounds like it’s ripped from deep inside her. She doubles over, clenching her stomach, and I grin.
I’m gonna carve her open like a pumpkin and tear out her guts.
CHAPTER 25
LANDRY
My Favorite Word
I fight free.
It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. The demon inside doesn’t want to let me go. I sense it has its own agenda. It needs my body to accomplish its goal, but it doesn’t need me. I’m in its way. The worst part’s not having control. Now I know how Mala felt when my sister possessed her body. Except Lainey shoved her out completely.
My head starts to clear, but it’s still hard to focus. My limbs shake like I’ve got low blood sugar. Cold sweat rolls down my forehead to sting my eye. It’s hard to breathe. A tongue dives down my throat, and I gag, biting down. Blood fills my mouth.
Mala yells my name.
It only takes a second for the shock to kick me in the head.
The demon has trapped me inside my own mind. I watch as it uses Sophia, while she thinks it’s the other way around and that she’s violating me. I almost feel sorry for her.
But not quite.
She drugged me. I understand now that it’s too late. She spiked the champagne, and Mala gave me hers. Maybe both drinks were drugged or only one. Whatever. It worked. I’m out of the way, and Mala’s on her own.
I promised I’d protect her.
Instead, she’s trying to protect me.
Some hero I turned out to be. This never would’ve happened to George. Deputy Dawg would’ve sniffed out the drug with his superpower cop senses. Not downed it like an alcoholic fiending for his first sip of the day.
Nausea twists my stomach. Sour champagne mixed with stomach acid burns my throat. I twist, trying to lift my arms. They’re like two heavy weights attached to my shoulders. The woman sitting on my chest shifts onto my diaphragm, shoving the air from my lungs. I try to answer Mala, but multitasking is beyond my skills. I can only do one thing at a time. Breathe.
The weight lifts from my chest. I drink in great gulps of air.
My eye cracks open. Mala stands above me. Moonlight peeks through the branches above our heads, shining across her face. She glows like an angel sent down from heaven. A force of energy crackles in the air, blowing her curls back from her face. Determination juts out her jaw as she stretches out her hand. Her fingers clench into fists. The building energy bursts forth. I can’t se
e it, but it crackles like lightning through my whole body. I grit my teeth from the tingle in my mouth.
A woman’s scream tears through the air. I push up onto my elbows and prop my back against the tree so I can see. I still can’t convince my lower body to work. My legs feel numb from the hips down.
“I’m gonna kill you!” Mala yells.
Sophia screams again and falls to her knees. Her arms wrap around her stomach, and her head falls forward so her hair hangs over her face. I grab Mala’s ankle. She looks down at me with wide, horrified eyes, snapping out of her killing frenzy. Her hand wavers, lowering slightly.
“Landry,” she whispers.
A chuckle comes from Sophia.
Mala’s head turns toward her in slow motion.
The woman’s laughter grows louder, rolling from deep inside her gut. She runs her fingers through her hair, flipping it out of her face. A smile stretches her mouth.
A cold chill runs down my spine, clearing the last bit of fog from my mind. Now I know how the hero feels in a scary movie.
Mala steps back, placing herself between me and Sophia, as if she plans to shield me from the witch woman. “Oh, crap!” she mutters.
Yep, it feels exactly like that.
“Did you really think that would work on me?” Sophia stands and brushes off her slacks. Where the hell did the woman’s shirt go? Oh, there.
Sophia picks her blouse off the ground. A quick snap knocks loose the dirt and leaves clinging to the fabric. Rather than dress, she lays the shirt over her arm and stands before us, naked from the waist up. As if proud to show off her body.
A foul taste covers my tongue. I flip through the memories of when the demon was in control. “Did she kiss me?” I ask.
Mala doesn’t answer. My fingers tighten around her ankle. Her leg trembles.
Ferdinand stalks into the clearing. Neither woman acknowledges his arrival, but I sigh, relieved. If anyone can stop this battle, he can. He comes to stand between the two women. “The party is over. It’s time to go.”