by Kitty Margo
Later that night Suzanne stood in the shadows of the conjure woman’s cabin, peering through the window as she sat by the fire. She knew that old Amari presided over ceremonial meetings and ritual dances. She had also heard, from the housemaids, that she earned a considerable amount by selling charms, amulets, and magical powders that she guaranteed to cure ailments, grant desires, and destroy one’s foes.
That was her greatest desire.
To destroy Lynna.
Suzanne’s arms were loaded with food, blankets, and clothes as payment for Amari’s help in getting rid of Lynna. The housemaids had warned her that that the voodoo priestess refused to accept money. The conjure woman claimed that passing money from one hand to the next was the easiest way to cast a spell on someone.
Suzanne knocked on the door, and after hearing the old woman call a greeting, she entered the cabin to the strong smell of sage.
Amari accepted the supplies with a nod of her head, motioning for Suzanne to take the seat opposite her. “What can I do for you, Miss Suzanne?”
Suzanne gasped, then gazed at the old woman in surprise. She was one of the darkest Negroes on the plantation, yet her cultured speech was that of one of the more refined citizens of Charleston. “Your speech. Why, you don’t sound like the other darkies at all. Where did you learn to speak in such a civilized manner?”
Amari chuckled softly to herself, evidently accustomed to this reaction from strangers. “I was raised in New Orleans. My mother was a quadroon ladies maid and I was raised in the big house at her skirt. I was never around… slaves.” Dancing flames reflected the firelight in the voodoo woman’s eyes as she continued, “Then when the Misses passed, her only son separated mother and me and sold us into slavery.”
Suzanne couldn’t suppress a giggle. “Forgive me. I assure you that I am not laughing at your horrible circumstances, but at the fact that I imagine her son lived to rue the day he sold you.”
Amari peered at Suzanne from under her lashes. “He did not live to rue another day.”
Suzanne shivered as Amari closed her eyes and relaxed back in her seat. Judging from her facial expressions, she seemed to be reliving some particularly intense moments from her past. In a determined effort to not dwell on the fate of the son, Suzanne moved on to her needs. “I came here because I have need of your help.”
The old woman folded her hands in her lap and sat patiently waiting. “I’m listening.”
“I need you to make someone suffer.” Suzanne smiled brilliantly at the mere thought of causing Lynna excruciating pain. “Can you do that?”
“That depends on who?” Amari threw something into the fire causing it to roar and burn so brightly for a few seconds that it almost singed Suzanne’s eyebrows. “And how badly you want to see them to suffer.”
Suzanne scooted her chair back a few inches in case the old woman felt the need to show off her skills again. “Lynna Mathison, and I need her to suffer unimaginable agony.”
“Lynna Mathison?” The shock on Amari’s face was hard to conceal as she peered at Suzanne from underneath her lashes. “Master Joshua’s new love?”
“His new love?” Suzanne practically snarled. “How do you know this? And what makes you think she is his new… love?”
Amari peered into the fire for several minutes deep in thought before answering. “I know many things about many people, Miss Suzanne.” Then she went to a cabinet and lifted down a bottle of dark colored liquid. “Put a few drops of this in her coffee on the first morning after the next full moon.”
Suzanne grabbed the bottle eagerly and clutched it to her chest with a bright smile on her face. “What will happen to the little tramp after I do?”
“Bad luck,” Amari answered, returning her gaze to the roaring fire. “Bad luck at every turn.”
Chapter 23