Southern Spirits

by Edie Bingham

  ‘If Belle is really Mamselle Belagrís, then she’s one of the Guédé loa,’ Tara warned, looking wary. ‘They’re spirits of the dead. They have nothing to fear.’

  Memories of Val and her charm, and that vision of the spirit driving the train, returned to Cat. ‘Tara, if this concerns magic – voodoo – I need to know more about it than what I’ve already picked up from the midnight movies.’

  ‘Well then, throw away what you’ve already picked up, because it’ll be false. We don’t make zombies or voodoo dolls or curses. When we invoke the spirits, it’s for harmony and peace, birth and rebirth, increased abundance of luck, material happiness, health, protection –’

  ‘Tara,’ Cat interjected, trying to be patient, ‘I accept that the majority of believers are decent, intelligent people. But we need specific information.’

  The girl nodded in concession. ‘Voudon is the oldest religion on Earth, one that travelled from Africa in the hearts and minds of those slaves transported to the New World. Here it blended with the shamanist beliefs of Native Americans, and added elements from Catholicism to appease the slave owners. It recognises one distant Creator, and a pantheon of angel-like spirits known as the loa, who act as intermediaries between the Creator and man, as they are ancestral and archetypal embodiments of the forces of nature and the human psyche. There are many families of loa, all with their own personalities and powers, rituals and symbols.’

  ‘And Belagrís is a member of the Guédé loa?’

  ‘Yes. The Guédé loa as a family are loud, rude, very sexual and, well, fun.’

  ‘Fun!’ Nathan exclaimed wryly.

  ‘Yes. They like to party. No wonder she likes it here.’

  ‘What do you know about Belagrís herself?’

  ‘Not much, to be honest, apart from the fact that she’s a New World spirit, created by those born into slavery in America. You have to understand, there’s hundreds of loa, sought for many purposes. Earthly families powerful in magic can “adopt” them as guardian spirits, and the service can last for generations.’

  ‘A family,’ Cat echoed. ‘Like Val’s.’

  ‘But Belagrís has been all but forgotten. I’ve never even seen her vévé.’

  ‘Her what?’ Nathan asked.

  ‘Her symbol, like an astral formula. Every loa has his or her own individual vévé. Reproduction of the astral forces represented by the vévés obliges the loa to descend to Earth.’

  ‘You’ve already seen it,’ Cat assured her, indicating the crosslike figures on the walls, the Southern Spirits logo. ‘My sources confirmed it.’

  Everyone looked around, as if seeing them for the first time. Cat looked over at Wheeler. ‘The name, the Southern Spirits logo, all connected to Belagrís. You used these deliberately, to accentuate her power. Idiota.’ She turned back to Tara. ‘Is there a spell you can work, a prayer, to appease her somehow?’

  The girl shook her head. ‘I’ve tried. She’s not listening.’

  Cat was afraid of that. She looked to the men. ‘Perhaps we can disable the electricals somewhere?’

  Nathan looked to Ben, considering. Cat left them to it, not expecting any success – stopping this force was going to take more than just unplugging a few wires. She approached Wheeler, sitting close beside him to speak quietly. ‘Belle wants the mystery solved. To do that, we need access to the right hotspots, though she’s blocked us from most of the rest of the train. That suggests there’s a hotspot I haven’t experienced, where the answer lies. You know this train better than anyone else. Where is it, Jack?’

  He regarded her. ‘And I’m going to assist you, and expedite my arrest? Thanks, my Latin beauty, but no thanks.’

  Cat eyed him, understanding where this was going. ‘What do you want?’

  Wheeler glanced past her to the others, then leant in closer, his voice a murmur. ‘You and I go to the secret hotspot, the place where Val and Enrique were killed. We experience what they did, discover what happened, Belle’s satisfied, she stops – and you drop the charges about the coin against me.’

  Cat smirked. ‘You’ve had access to that area all this time, and you haven’t solved it yourself, or brought someone else along to help you?’

  ‘I’ve tried, darling. I’ve not found anyone as adept at experiencing the visions as you, anyone Belle has liked as much as you.’

  ‘And then you expect me to just lie there and let you fuck me and get away with your crimes?’

  ‘It seems fair. You’ll not let me get away with the coin, will you?’

  ‘And you definitely know where this hotspot is?’

  ‘Cat,’ Nathan approached. ‘What’s going on?’

  She stayed focused on Wheeler, who took on a serious, nononsense aspect as he responded, ‘It’s pretty strong, since it’s where the couple died. The few times I brought a perceptive female there, they tended to, ah, react badly to what they felt, and became unresponsive.’ He looked her over. ‘You, however, should be strong enough not to give in to your, shall we say, feminine weaknesses?’

  She pictured how he’d look with a broken nose, before turning back to a still-watching, still-concerned Nathan. ‘I’m taking Wheeler elsewhere. He has information he’ll give to me alone.’ Before he could reply, she pressed her forefinger softly against his lips. ‘I can handle him, and by myself, this time. Trust me.’

  It took some visible effort on his part, but Nathan only replied, ‘Be careful, Catalina.’

  ‘Keep everyone here.’ Her fingers lingered, and she smiled, proud that he didn’t seem to notice what she’d taken from his jacket pocket.

  Cat followed Wheeler into the latter half of the kitchens carriage, to one of the pantries and, as soon as he had escorted her inside its cramped confines, she spotted the incongruity. ‘Too small in here. It should be bigger.’

  ‘Give the lady a cigar. No one else has ever noticed.’ He reached behind one of the shelves, unlatched something, and the entire wall swivelled on a hidden axis in the middle, like some passageway entrance in a mystery-novel mansion. The space beyond appeared much like any of the other berths on the train: narrow bed, old-fashioned furniture, a ceiling fan and small pictures on the walls. Cat recognised the decor from the period of Val and Enrique. Wheeler stepped inside. ‘It was better to keep this section hidden, in case anyone accidentally discovered the hotspot and was troubled by it.’

  ‘And in case they also learnt where the coin was, right, Jack?’

  ‘Don’t get all high and mighty with me, sweetie. I’m losing out on an eight-million dollar deal, and my chance to get away from this . . . thing.’

  ‘What a way to refer to Belle,’ Cat mocked. ‘After your spirited defence of her during this trip.’

  ‘Like flesh and blood women, after a while she becomes smothering, overpowering. Take off your jacket.’

  After a moment, she did so, setting it on an adjacent chair. ‘I hope you were going to spend some of that money on therapy to deal with your issues regarding women.’

  He was removing his waistcoat, and his boots. ‘I have no issues, Agent Montoya. I know what to do to please women, and to get them to please me. And I know what to do to keep them from getting too clingy, possessive. As they inevitably do.’

  She grunted. ‘So much for your graveside confession about envying Enrique’s passion, his love. What now?’

  He reached into a cabinet and withdrew a pair of silver handcuffs. ‘Put your hands behind your back.’

  ‘Besame el culo.’

  He held up the cuffs like a necklace. ‘We have to recreate the conditions as they were fifty years ago. Come on, we both know you’re no stranger to bondage.’

  Reluctantly, she walked towards him, her hands clenched into fists as they moved behind her back. She felt him draw up, felt the cool metal clamp around her wrists with a treble click. Her arms gave a reflexive tug to test the amount of give.

  It wasn’t much. ‘This doesn’t mean I trust you, Jack –’

  Before she could
finish, Jack caught her by the arm, twisted her around to face him, and kissed her full on the mouth, his other hand clasping the back of her head. He pressed his lips down on hers and plunged his tongue into the warm wetness between them. Cat was taken by surprise, but recovered quickly, sucking on his tongue as she felt the same electric sensations she had experienced in the sling room, the heat of passion quickly drowning out her other feelings.

  ‘F– Fuck,’ she muttered, her lips moving against his, the words almost impaled on his tongue. ‘I’m –’

  ‘You’re going nowhere,’ he informed her as he pulled back, moving his lips down to her neck. ‘Except where I want. Doing what I want.’

  The feeling of his lips and hot tongue made her throw her head back, tightening the sinews in her throat. That made it easier for Wheeler to fasten his mouth on them, sucking the skin in as the hand at the back of her head grabbed her by the hair.

  He took his hand away from her arm and fumbled with the front of her blouse, trying to unbutton it before losing what little patience he had and tearing at it. Her breasts heaved from the frilled tops of her white lace bra, and he was reaching around and unclasping her bra, before returning and freeing her breasts entirely from the cups. He dropped his mouth to each one, taking them in turn, sucking at her flesh, concentrating on the nipple, rubbing it against the edges of his teeth.

  Cat’s arousal grew, her whole body quivering, and though his actions were expected, the intensity was pushing her closer to the edge, making her crave this ravishment. As his teeth created a delicious torture on her nipples, twin flames of pain and pleasure combining, indistinguishable, her sex seemed to catch fire as well.

  Wheeler drew back and dropped to his knees, looking up at her as he reached up under her skirt and over the tops of her stockings to find the sides of her panties. With a wanton grunt, he yanked them down, dragging them to her ankles, only letting her step out of one leg band.

  He smiled up at her as his hand returned to her sex, the smile broadening further as his finger stroked her bush, his other hand steadying her at the small of her back. His fingers dipped along her slit and sunk shallowly into her folds.

  Cat gasped and swayed, as his forefinger moved to the crest of her sex, finding her hard, swollen clit. Cat felt it throb and pulse like a signal, seeking attention. It made her moan as he nudged against it. Behind her, her hands struggled between each other.

  Wheeler sensed her apparent fighting. ‘Save your energy. You’re mine. And you’re not getting away – owww!’

  Before he knew it, he was pinned face down on the bed, one arm twisted behind him, as Cat straddled him, freeing her remaining wrist with the universal key she’d taken from Nathan’s jacket. ‘Come on, Jack, you think I’m stupid? That I wouldn’t be ready for something like this?’ When he struggled some more, Cat put a little more pressure on his arm. ‘Calm down, nino. You’re going nowhere, except where I want. Doing what I want.’

  Wheeler turned his head and looked up at her, panting. ‘Lemme . . . go . . . I don’t . . . play this.’

  ‘No?’ Cat had both his wrists cuffed together now, and turned him onto his back, then straddled his groin by rucking her skirt up until it was around her waist. She took her time slipping her breasts back into her bra and refastening it, and then inspecting the rips on her blouse. ‘You’re paying for this one, Jack. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes.’ She ground slowly onto his groin, genuinely enjoying the pressure against her bare clit, sometimes leaning forwards as if to kiss him, her voice a sultry murmur almost lost to the sounds of the train wheels. ‘I bet your body can play just fine like this.’

  Wheeler, darkening with this blow to his masculine pride, began struggling again, until she bent forwards, gripped him by the chin, and warned, ‘You keep fighting me, and I’ll keep you on edge for hours, with no relief. You know I can do it. Is that what you want?’

  The man looked petulant enough to remain defiant. Fortunately for him – for them both – he finally replied, ‘N– No.’

  ‘Bueno.’ Cat sat up straight again, reaching down to her sex as she continued to grind against an ever-growing erection she could feel through his clothes. ‘But I’m still not going to fuck you. Not until you ask. I might even make you beg.’

  ‘Fuck you!’ His face was a picture of the fight between his ego and his libido.

  And Cat enjoyed that, almost as much as she enjoyed touching her clit lightly, tracing a tight circle around it as her stockinged thighs clenched around his captive legs, making his cock betray its master and throb for attention. Cat grew bolder, delving further down to part her folds and dip into her wetness, gathering it as her pussy reacted to this provocation with a necklace of tiny contractions.

  When she withdrew her glistening fingers, she leant forwards once more, offering them to Wheeler’s nose, his lips. ‘Remember this? My scent? You’ll want a taste as well.’

  Amusingly, he tried to remain rebellious and keep his mouth shut, despite his obvious reaction to her musk.

  ‘It wasn’t a request, by the way, pendejo,’ she informed him sweetly. ‘Now open up and suck, like a good little puta.’ She ground harder against his groin, imagining the friction and pressure would soon grow more painful than pleasurable for the stubborn cabrón.

  She was right; Wheeler parted his mouth and Cat decided to move to the next step, feeling herself suitably aroused. She lifted herself up and eased back until she just kept his knees trapped. She unhooked her skirt and threw it aside, finding it a nuisance now. Then she reached for the belt and zipper on his trousers, noting the intense bulge and the tiny damp patch that she’d left on him.

  Demonstrating the same roughness he’d shown to her blouse, Cat undid and pulled down his trousers and briefs to his thighs, letting his cock spring free into the air, proud and thick and erect, some pre-come seeping down the underside of the shaft, not being absorbed by his cotton briefs.

  ‘Oh my,’ she teased, ‘looks like somebody does like playing the submissive one for a change.’ She licked the tip of her middle finger and gently moistened his cockhead, making the shaft twitch and try to flee her. ‘Well? Do you want to be fucked?’

  He didn’t answer. She leant back and dipped forwards, until her mouth was enticingly, maddeningly close to his member, and it was as if she was speaking directly to it, repeating, ‘Do you want to be fucked? To feel the hot embrace of my pussy around you, squeezing, releasing, milking you of every drop you’re carrying?’ Her hand reached out now and brushed through his clump of pubic hair to grasp him at the base of his cock, stroking slowly upwards. ‘Well, puta?’ She applied some more pressure, watching him closely, careful not to let him go too far before she was ready. ‘Well?’

  ‘Y– Yes,’ came a whisper.

  Her tongue darted out, the tip running along the rim of his cockhead, collecting his pre-come. ‘Yes, what? What do your want? Spell it out for me. I’m just a stupid little woman.’ She blew gently on him, feeling his whole body quiver.

  He snarled at her through gritted teeth. ‘Fuck me! Fuck me!’

  ‘Well, since you’re begging now.’ Cat rose up, her own eagerness barely hidden, as she positioned herself over his staff, feeling the heat radiating from her parted sex like air escaping from a balloon. She dealt with this by slowly sinking down onto him, letting her mind open . . .

  . . . It was so hot . . . so hot, even in just her pink teddy, but Val didn’t care. She was happy, more happy than she had been in a long, long time.

  ‘I have something for you,’ Enrique announced, close to her.

  ‘What, besides your love, and our freedom – and some stolen money?’ She was undoing his tie, and unbuttoning his shirt, and something behind it caught her eye, her eyes widening. ‘Sweet God, you found it!’

  Behind his shirt sat her charm, the one Mickey had torn off her a month ago and threw away. It was hanging around his neck as if it had been there all along. ‘Where’d you get it?’

  Enrique grinned with delight a
t her response. ‘One of the porters found it in the garbage, and actually tried to sell it to me. I was going to surprise you.’ He cast off his shirt. ‘After this.’ He reached into his trouser pocket and produced a small box, dropping to one knee before her.

  Val’s heart raced. ‘Enrique.’

  He opened the box. It was a ring, a simple wedding band. His voice near cracked. ‘I . . . I know you’re technically still married . . .’

  ‘Only in the eyes of one faith.’ She reached for the more expensive ring from Mickey, cursing for not removing it sooner as she flung it across the room, with the same contempt Mickey had shown her charm. She accepted Enrique’s ring, the love she had for him so overpowering it threatened to make her cry. ‘As far as anyone else is concerned, we’ve been married for years.’

  He smiled, reaching behind his head for the chain holding the charm. ‘I’d better give this to you as well.’

  ‘Later.’ She pulled him back up and continued kissing and undressing him, their bodies receiving the attention they demanded.

  To the hard pounding rhythm of the train that carried them, the lovers moved their bodies together like pistons: Enrique driving deep into her, again and again, Val clutching and squeezing him as another climax rushed through her.

  The heat in the berth was stifling, unrelieved by the ceiling fan directly above them, and sweat matted the tips of her russet hair to her neck, before rolling down beneath the salmon-pink silk of her teddy. She wanted to take it off and be as naked as her lover, but he wouldn’t unwrap his huge arms from around her, wouldn’t stop using those full, strong lips and tongue.

  She didn’t have any problem with that.

  They were free. Well, nearly. They had left Mickey back in Chicago, taking with them two hundred thousand dollars of Mob money, destined for the Cuban casinos. But it would never reach them. Her father was prepared, and would meet them when they arrived tomorrow morning in New Orleans. From there, they would take the train to Miami and, from there, a boat to Europe, under assumed names and fake passports. The Mob could keep the club.