Rebelled, an Arelia LaRue Novel #7

by Kira Saito

  He was eerily reflective for a few seconds before he responded. “I’m so tired of the bullshit in this world. What if being radical is what will bring us to victory? We’ve been trodden on for far too long by the one percenters. They make themselves kings of this world with their rules and regulations.”

  “Oh trust me when I say I am just as tired as you are, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to become a puppet. Don’t you see? By ignoring the enemy and refusing to be intimated by what he’s doing, we will be the real radicals. The real soul rebels.”

  “That in itself sounds like a radical display of rebellion,” he said thoughtfully. “Rebelling against the rebels.”

  “Perhaps,” I shrugged proud of myself for standing my ground and refusing to be moved by every suggestion and opinion that came my way. I had recently discovered that the devil loved to pretend to be your friend while giving you suggestions and opinions that would eventually lead to your downfall. I wasn’t sure if he was doing it through Louis, but I wasn’t willing to find out.

  “Where’s Prince Charming tonight?” Louis asked thawing the ice and changing the topic to something more light-hearted and carefree.

  “He’s taking a walk,” I said not willing to tell him all that had happened between us. Maybe it was a grownup thing to do, to keep your relationship drama to yourself even when you didn’t feel like it.

  “In this weather?” Louis asked peering out of the French windows which were now being pounded by fat raindrops.

  “It wasn’t raining when he left. You know how New Orleans is.”

  “I guess,” he said while eying me suspiciously. “Well as much fun as this has all been I do need to get my beauty rest. You can’t look this good on two hours of sleep alone. I’ll catch you tomorrow, Queen.”

  “Later Louis,” I said releasing his hand and giving him a small good-bye wave. I didn't want to admit it, but the climate between us had subtly changed. It had gone from unified to mistrusting in the blink of an eye. I thought about what the man in the mirror had told me about Louis’ future and suddenly regretted not taking La Sirene up on her offer.

  Chapter Twenty

  Darkwood Plantation – Present Day

  Ambush in the Night

  After my bath and intense conversations with both Lucus and Louis, I headed back to the comfort of my room. Although my body was somewhat relaxed, my mind was still racing a mile a minute trying to connect the dots. I tried to find a reasonable solution to the increasingly troublesome situation that not only I, but the entire physical and spiritual worlds were facing. The spacious room welcomed me with soft rain beating against the window pane. A wisteria infused breeze seeped through the delicate lace curtains, and the extravagant black chandelier swayed gently as its crystals hauntingly brushed against one another.

  Dreamy pale moonlight cast a soft, inviting glow onto the light-blue duvet and the silk canopy that covered the Louis XV King-sized bed. The twenty-four karat gold and black fleur de lis wallpaper shone cryptically as if hiding a secret behind its shiny exterior. I gently fingered the “flower of the lily” symbol. Suddenly, I had a hunch that it represented way more than French royalty. From my experiences, I had come to realize that certain symbols didn’t become popular because they were pretty or appealing to the eyes, they became popular because there was a supernatural property behind the manner in which they were constructed. I felt a little silly because it sounded like a conspiracy book written by Dan Brown, but that proved my point. Those books had become popular for a reason, and it wasn't because they were literary masterpieces.

  I shook off the uneasy feeling and peeled off the fluffy white towel that I was wrapped in and replaced it with a loose black satin nightgown with a delicate lace neckline. I stood in front of the antique duchess dresser with its grand haint blue gilt wood mirror and combed out the knots and tangles that were in my damp hair. For someone who had come back from the dead, I looked the same without a hint of starvation or dehydration in sight. My skin was smooth, and my lips were nice and plump as if I had a habit of chugging down ten glasses of water a day. I reminded myself of the Wild Rose. At least, I had something working for me. As I peered into the mirror, I wondered if La Sirene was watching me and formulating her next plot. It was not a very comforting thought given that she had so much more experience than I did. She was probably sitting there laughing at me and congratulating herself for not being vastly smarter than I was, but also a hell of a lot more beautiful.

  I took a step back from the mirror and paced back and forth as I often did when I was thinking and strategizing. I no longer knew who to trust. It seemed as if everyone had an ulterior motive and was controlled by forces that they couldn't see or fully understand. Lucus had always been my rock. He was the solid foundation that I could fully rely on, but even he was busy fighting demons of his own. I wondered if they would grow bigger and eventually take a further toll on our relationship. I also obsessed over whether he had returned from wherever he had run to, and if I would see him again tonight. After a good ten minutes of pacing, I sat on the bed and realized that the only one who would be able to give me sound advice was the Boss Himself.

  I clasped my hands together and stared at my overgrown toenails. I felt unworthy of receiving an answer before I had even asked any questions. I didn’t have on my Sunday best, and I sure as hell wasn’t the holiest of people around given my temper, lustful interact with Lucus a mere hour ago and the horrible sins my family had committed, which still had not been revealed to me.

  Despite my feeling of unworthiness, I cleared my throat and spoke humbly and with absolute sincerity. “Hi, Bon Dieu. It’s me, Arelia. I know you’ve given me more help than I deserve and more chances than there are stars in the Louisiana night sky and mosquitoes in the deep bayou. I will be forever grateful. If you don’t want to answer me, you don’t have to. I know you’ve got much more important people in your army than little old me, but there are a few issues that I hope you’ll help me clarify. Why is everyone going to fight against each other on a mass scale? Why are the spirits using race, gender, economic class to divide the people in such a horrific manner? I saw black versus white and such ugly attacks of terror across the world. If you created all of us humans, then why in the world are the loa hell-bent on making us believe that we aren’t equal? Is one side more superior to the other? Is one race or gender better than the other?” I asked the questions that I had been too terrified to ask any human.

  “Why in the world would Louis become a dictator? What implications does this have on Lucus’ future? They’re brothers… How is all of this connected? And then there is Emilie and her church… lastly, should I get rid of Edmond’s spirit? If I do, will that mean Ben will die? I know his soul is still in his body even though I was told otherwise. I suppose those are the questions that have me perplexed to no end. Thank you for listening even if you don’t feel like responding.”

  I wrapped myself in the duvet and stared at the silk canopy hoping for some prophetic epiphany and a quick-fix solution to all of my problems. I lay there and expected a glorious angel of the Lord to appear by the bedside to give me advice, which made me think of Erzulie’s experiences with angels and Angel Pulse United. Suddenly, the thought of a glorious angel was a lot less appealing. I hugged the duvet like a child clinging to a safety blanket. My eyes were heavy with sleep, and I assumed my questions would be left unanswered. I drifted in and out of consciousness. Familiar words that I had heard so many times were gently whispered in my ear. I recognized them as the lyrics to a Bob Marley song.

  See them fighting for power

  But they know not the hour

  So they bribing with their guns, spare-parts, and money

  Trying to belittle our integrity now

  They say what we know

  Is just what they teach us

  * * *

  And we're so ignorant

  'Cause every time they can reach us

  Through political strategy


  They keep us hungry

  And when you gonna get some food

  Your brother got to be your enemy, well

  Ambush in the night

  Well, what we know

  Is not what they tell us

  We're not ignorant, I mean it

  And they just cannot touch us

  Through the powers of the Most High

  We keep on surfacing

  Through the powers of the Most High

  We keep on surviving, yeah

  * * *

  I shot up as the lyrics replayed in my head.

  See them fighting for power

  But they know not the hour.

  Something clicked. Something that hadn't occurred to me before, despite the countless times I had played the song on repeat. It was as if the lyrics had a hidden supernatural meaning that had finally been revealed to me. The song wasn't simply talking about the time Bob had been ambushed in his house and had miraculously survived. They had a double meaning. Time was short. The great and terrible day that grand-mere had warned me about was around the corner. The loa somehow knew this, but they didn’t know exactly when it would happen. In the short time they had, the evil loa were trying to get humans to make the same mistakes they had made before by repeating history.

  Through political strategy they keep us hungry and when you gonna get some food, your brother got to be your enemy, well.

  These mistakes had been made in recent history and had placed brother against brother. The humans involved thought they had been fighting for just causes, but they hadn’t been able to see the forest from the trees. The evil, wicked schemes had been stopped by Dieu before. If I didn’t win this war, they wouldn’t be stopped again. The evil loa would win, and more souls would be lost, and the kingdom that He desperately wanted would finally be allowed to manifest for a short time based on the choices we as humans made. What exactly would that kingdom consist of? I shivered as I recalled every single horror movie I had ever watched.

  “Damn,” I whispered. I needed to find out what had happened in Haiti because something told me that it was key in understanding what would manifest in America. I thought back to Erzulie’s demon baby and how he was the supposed king of the New World. If these evil schemes had been stopped back in Haiti, it meant that they were going to be carried out again in America. It was exactly as La Sirene had confirmed; time was cyclical. It also occurred to me that history would repeat, but the devil would be smarter this time around, and that is how Emilie fit into the whole picture. How exactly, I wasn't sure. All of the answers to the questions I had asked hadn't been given to me. I was mature enough to finally understand that it wasn't the right time for me to discover those secrets just yet.

  “Oh Dieu, thank you for revealing this knowledge to me. I know I’m not the worthiest soul around.” Sure, I had preached about worthiness to Lucus and how he was valuable, but the encouraging stuff you said to others was a lot harder to believe about yourself. That’s just the way it went regardless of how many obstacles you conquered, how many zombies you neutralized, or spirits you outsmarted.

  I leaped out of bed hungry for more answers. What horrific mistakes had my family made? It was time to force Erzulie and Rosaline to give me answers even if they weren’t ready. I hadn’t been completely ready to say goodbye to Viola, but I had done so because it was for the better good. I had listened to their advice, and now it was time for them to give me the answers they owed me.

  I hurried into my office where I was met with my much beloved heavy mahogany bookcases filled with potent herbs, deadly dust, fragrant oils, exotic perfumes, colorful feathers, animal bones, seven-day candles, and little cloth sachets that could be used to make gris-gris with. Erzulie’s pink altar stood intact and was arranged with all of her favorite offering including a full bottle of pink champagne, fresh jasmine, Florida water, gold jewelry, pink candles, and her trusty shiny steel dagger which looked as if it had been freshly polished. I opened the bottle of champagne and poured it into two thin flutes. I wasn't going to offer her any more of my blood because we were beyond that phase in our relationship. I had told her that I would always be there with a bottle of champagne in hand and gris-gris on my wrist, and I would keep my promise. I was ready for more truth bombs, was she?

  I climbed out of the large windows. For a moment, I was mesmerized by the sheer beauty of the garden. The tiny raindrops appeared to be tiny diamonds decorating the red chrysanthemums, pink roses, and white magnolia blooms. "I'm back," I said taking a seat beside the smooth marble statue of the weeping Virgin Mary. "I would offer you a glass, but I'm not sure if that's very appropriate, or is it?"

  The statue watched my every move with mournful, vigilant eyes. "I know exactly how you feel. I mean your baby devised His destruction to give us hopeless fools a chance. I destroyed my baby because she was pure evil. The justification doesn't make it any easier, does it? Does the pain of being a mother who lost a child ever really go away?" I asked feeling philosophical all of a sudden. I took a quick sip of champagne and wondered if Lucus and I would ever have the children we spoke about.

  Even though the statue was silent as expected, she made excellent company. She let me ramble, lament and pour my soul out to her without me having to worry about being judged. “I’m waiting for Erzulie to show up. She never had the courage to let go of her child until now. I’ve been told he’s done some terrible things, but she’s too afraid to tell me how terrible. We still have some trust issues.”

  I turned my attention away from the statue and up at the now clear sky. The storm had quickly passed, and the inky sky was once again full of glittering stars. “Erzulie! I'm waiting!" I shouted. "I kept my promise. You have to keep yours. I'm not going to shed a drop of my blood for you to make your grand appearance. You told me that it wasn't necessary! I'm sick and tired of seeing blood." I was bracing myself for the inevitable smell of jasmine and honeysuckle, but instead, I was treated with an overwhelming dose of gasoline and demented laughter. I glanced around the garden and saw a familiar figure standing by a rose bush.

  It was no other than the vengeful, powerful and dreadful Marinette who furiously chugged gasoline from a glass bottle and recklessly waved her machete into the sticky night air. She was dressed in a bright yellow dress with a brown and green pineapple pattern, and her dread locked hair was decorated with tiny beads that ranged from red to purple all the way to dark blue. Her dark leathery skin glistened under the moonlight, and her eyes shone with the power of several raging fires about to burst into one destructive nuclear bomb.

  I remembered calling upon her when I had been Cecile, and how she had helped me utterly humiliate Edmond during one of his many nights out on the town. I also remember that as a human, Marinette had been a powerful Voodoo Queen, and her story was rumored to have been started in Haiti when she had rebelled against the horrific nature of slavery and had help kick-start the Haitian Revolution. This meant that she was on friendly terms with Erzulie or did it?

  “Hello,” I said cautiously not fully understanding why she had randomly shown up when I hadn’t called her.

  She laughed wildly and continued to chug from her glass bottle. “Every revolution needs blood to be shed and victims who are too naïve to fight for their very freedom!”

  "I see that you haven't changed one bit." I gave her my widest grin. I remembered that despite her rough exterior, she had once protected me, but was she on my side? That was the question I was too afraid to ask directly.

  “Some gasoline to light the fire?” she asked offering me the bottle.

  “No thanks. I’m sticking to champagne tonight,” I said raising my glass in a toast to hide the fact that I was nervous as hell. Fresh blood glistened off the machete that Marinette held. “Would you like some? I’m sure that it tastes much better than gasoline.”

  “I don’t need that poison full of empty promises and broken dreams!” Her wild laughter caused the marble statue to shake and tumble over. “Hey, easy with the
laughter,” I said, as I put down my glass and tried to set the statue straight. It was impossible, as it weighed what seemed like a thousand pounds. “How can I help you, Marinette? I haven’t called you, so why are you here?”

  She chugged some more gasoline, leaped from where she was standing and landed next to me. “You’re waiting for Erzulie, aren’t you?” she asked accusingly. I took a step back as her machete came dangerously close to my neck.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. Why do you care?”

  “You’ve put your trust in her, haven’t you?” Her red-rimmed eyes were furious as they looked at me.

  “I have. Why does that bother you? I thought you two were friends.”

  “Friends don’t betray one another, do they?” she asked ruthlessly.

  I shook my head and took another step backward. “No, they don’t. She hasn’t betrayed me. In fact, she’s always been there for me just like you have. I won’t ever forget how you helped me when I was Cecile.”

  “I now realize that was silly of me! Silly of me to help such a silly girl! I thought you were strong enough to shed blood and win the war, but now I see that you are nothing but a puppet that needs to be manipulated like the rest of them.” She flashed me a smile full of jagged stained teeth.

  "I don't understand." At this point, I was more than a little confused at her blind accusations at who I was or wasn't. It pissed me off, but I wasn't stupid enough to mess with her.