by J. N. Colon
My heart thrashed wildly against my small rib bones. “Don’t you think this is going to cause some major chaos in the world?”
A slow smile stretched across his white-painted face. “Chaos and I are old friends.”
“But, I think you should—” My words were cut off as a searing pain sliced through my toujou. My sharp intake of air echoed through the hollow, candlelit room. Etie knew I was gone.
Baron Samedi’s eyes fell on the mark above my collarbone. “Étienne knows his precious alimèt is in danger. We better be going before he finds you and ruins all the fun.”
Panic flared through my chest. I didn’t know if it was my own or Etie’s. My next breath was swallowed up by a loud whooshing. My head spun as the marble walls of the mausoleum disappeared.
Dizziness swarmed me, and I stumbled, my feet kicking up swirling fog masking the ground. I grabbed my head as I stood upright, my heart sinking.
The eerie gothic graveyard I’d been to once before unfolded around me. A massive full moon shined in the distance, casting a silvery glow over the fog. Tombstones in every shape and size stretched out. Tiny stone cherubs danced beneath tall angels, the tips of their wings hidden in the thick mist.
I was in the spirit world.
“Welcome back to my home.” Baron Samedi held his arms wide. “And soon, it’ll be open to others of flesh and blood.”
My stomach tightened. I wanted to hurl. How was I going to convince this psycho voodoo deity not to go through with the villainous plan he’d been working on for at least eight years?
“Come now, Eve-angel-ine.” The baron grabbed my hand and practically skipped through the headstones.
Was he escorting me to his demented tea party? Maybe that could buy some time.
My hope was crushed as he led me deeper into the cemetery, toward those looming iron gates. The baron waved his hand and the fog thinned, revealing thick, waxy grass spreading out between the graves. A few of his spirits were dancing to phantom music.
A cold sweat beaded my skin, making the sweater stick to my body. I dug my heels in, yanking the baron to a stop. “Just wait one second. What’s the rush? You weren’t even expecting me until tomorrow.”
The baron glanced back at me and let out a dramatic sigh. “Now that your alimèt knows you’re gone, I have no doubt he’s scrambling to find a way to get to you.” Crimson flared in his dark irises. “It would take a lot of power to get here, but I wouldn’t put it past the bokor to gather enough within the hour to save you.”
Little did he know, we’d siphoned energy from the crowd at Le Revenant. Etie might already have enough power.
“I just want to know why you’re doing this,” I said, gritting my teeth as he tried to tug me along. “Why do you want to destroy something the bondye created?”
Baron Samedi’s grip loosened. “What do you know about the bondye?”
“I know it’s the big kahuna of voodoo.” I pried his fingers off my wrist. “He created you, the other loa, and all the light and dark magic of voodoo.” I took a step back, putting more distance between us. “I know you’re a dark deity, but you aren’t evil. Going against your creator like this sounds hella evil.”
Deep lines formed across his brow, creasing the white paint. “I’m not evil.” He bent, bringing his face barely an inch from mine. “People pray to me for help. I heal those worthy. I help children too.”
My jaw flexed as images of an innocent ten-year-old me weeping on a dock flashed through my vision. “And yet when I asked for help as a child, you tricked me into a deal. My sister was sick, and you used that to get your hands on my soul.”
He stood and shook his head. “You were different. I needed you for this.” The baron stared off in the distance, his eyes unfocused. “I need you,” he whispered.
He didn’t realize how corrupt his behavior had been. If I could just make him see, make him understand how bad this was…
The baron grabbed my arm and pulled me forward again. “Come on, girl. Stop stalling.”
My mind was spinning, trying to figure out a way to get through to him. A familiar figure caught my eye, and the panic spun into cold fury. “You!”
Jesse winked as he stopped drawing voodoo symbols on a long tombstone. “Hey, Angel. How’s that saucy sister of yours?”
I stepped toward him, my nostrils flaring. “You bastard.”
Baron Samedi’s grasp tightened, stopping me from attacking the lying voodoo caster. “None of that.” He chuckled. “It’s too bad. It’d be fun to watch you toss him around.”
Jesse’s brows furrowed. “You’d let her do that?”
He waved the voodoo caster on, ignoring his indignation. “Hurry up and finish.”
The faithful follower went back to painting symbols along the tombstone. If—when—I got out of this, he was going to get a massive energy ball to the chest. Jesse was joined by the male spirit who was so fond of me. He tipped his bowler hat and flashed me a grin before grabbing a leather pouch and sprinkling a mixture around the entire grave.
I rolled my eyes. If given the chance, I’d turn that creep into a roach, and step on him—if that kind of magic worked on a spirit.
“Hello, ma chère.” The woman dressed in a full silk and chiffon black dress blew me a kiss, her lips the color of fresh blood. “So glad you could join us again.”
Baron Samedi grabbed my shoulder and forced me back, sitting me down on the cold slab of marble within the circle the spirit had created. He shooed Jesse away. “Midnight’s close.” His eyes were feverish. “I can begin soon. I wasn’t going to do this until after a small party, but since you’re here, and I don’t want the pouvior bokor interrupting...”
Blood thundered in my ears. “Have you spoken to Maman Brigitte lately? She’s worried about you. She thinks you’re acting strangely too.”
He paused. “When did you speak to Maman Brigitte?”
“A few weeks ago.” I stood and took a step away from the tombstone, slamming into an invisible wall. My eyes widened as I tried and failed to go any further. Ice slithered over me. I was trapped.
The baron’s head tilted back, ground-shaking rolls of laughter streaming out of him. “You didn’t really think I’d let you roam free? After last time, I ain’t taking any chances.”
The spirits and Jesse joined in, their audible amusement grating against my skull. A barrier surrounded the tombstone to keep me inside. My legs gave out, and my butt hit the cold, hard stone. He was bound and determined to do this.
“My lovely wife and I don’t see eye to eye on this.” He pressed his hand to my chest, forcing me back until I was stretched out on the stone. “But once the gate is gone and I’m the true king of voodoo, she’ll see. She’ll love being the voodoo queen by my side.”
“What exactly are you going to do to me?” My voice was shaky. The knife burned against my leg, begging to be used.
“I’m going to connect with your powers and use them to obliterate the gate.” He removed his hat, handing it to one of the spirits.
“Will I survive this?” A small part of me hoped.
His lips pursed. “Sorry, but your soul will most likely be destroyed.” He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “You’ll cease to exist.”
The cemetery spun. My dinner threatened to reappear. Oh God. I wouldn’t even be a spirit.
The dong of a clock eerily echoed, striking twelve times. Midnight.
A slow, chilling smile spread over Baron Samedi’s painted face. “Fete Gede is upon us.”
A crimson haze descended over his eyes, spilling panic through my bloodstream. My chest rapidly rose and fell. Doomsday was here. The sands of time had all dropped to the bottom of the hourglass.
Vondou fell from the baron’s lips, and the spirits danced around the tombstone to the rhythm of distant drum beats.
“Konekte pouvwa a kanal. Fè mwen grandi.”
My stomach clenched. I felt like a virgin about to be sacrificed to the devil. Where was the scary knife and cha
lice of blood?
Stabbing him might be the only option.
But still, it was wrong. Voodoo was all about balance. Light needed dark and vice versa. What would happen if I permanently disabled one of the dark loa? Would the balance be thrown off? Would an even darker loa take Baron Samedi’s place as keeper of the dead?
“Konekte pouvwa a kanal. Fè mwen grandi.”
Power rippled around me, and the baron shimmered in and out of focus. I reinforced the barriers around my conduit magic, adding another layer and another. He couldn’t use me if he couldn’t get to my juicy center.
Baron Samedi peered at me with a knowing expression. He tsked. “That ain’t going to stop me, Eve-angel-ine.”
Pain ripped through my core, and a scream exploded through the gothic graveyard. Stars popped in my vision, spiraling in sickening whirlwinds. The walls protecting my magic were stripped away one by one until nothing was left.
Tears streamed from my eyes, disappearing onto the cold marble. I lay there raw and exposed, my powers floating too close to the surface. A cold sweat rolled down the back of my neck.
“Just comply, and it won’t hurt.” The baron’s voice was too loud, piercing my temples like jagged knives.
My toujou burned and desperation poured through my veins. It wasn’t mine. It was Etie’s. He knew I was in trouble. I didn’t want to hurt him, but could I risk screwing the whole world to save myself?
Etie’s voice spilled through my mind. “Angeline, please don’t do this. Don’t let him take you from me.”
A lump rose in my throat, choking me. I couldn’t stand the heartbreak from my soul mate.
“Please, Angeline. You promised you wouldn’t sacrifice yourself. I need you. Don’t leave me.”
A sob tore from my mouth, but it was drowned out by the baron’s loud chanting. My conduit receptors were already slithering out, searching for energy to connect with. I had no control. I couldn’t rein them back in or take the baron’s power into me instead of the other way around.
My hand twitched toward my boot.
“Please, cher,” Etie whispered. “We’ll deal with the consequences, whatever they are. I can’t lose you. I won’t survive the darkness inside me. Not anymore.”
My soul wanted to shatter into a million pieces. The gwo-bon lyen flowing through my veins fought what was happening. Every inch of me—physical, spiritual, and mental—was in protest. It would not let me give in to the voodoo king.
My teeth clenched as a ragged growl spilled out. I couldn’t do it.
I wouldn’t.
I wouldn’t let this crazy deity destroy me and the gates. I wouldn’t break my alimèt’s heart. Maybe Maman Brigitte and Mama CeCe were right, and something was wrong with the baron. It didn’t matter. The time for mercy had passed. I wasn’t a sacrificial lamb being led to the slaughter.
I pulled my leg up, reaching for the knife. The loa was too preoccupied with forcing my powers to multiply his to notice. The hilt was firmly in my hand, concealed beneath my thigh. The baron leaned forward, his eyes deep crimson.
One of them was about to get a lot more crimson.
I sucked in a ragged breath and pictured Etie to find an extra dose of courage. My arm lifted, and I drove the knife to his face.
Baron Samedi’s hand snaked out, snatching mine just as the tip of the blade was less than an inch from its mark. “Well, well, what do we have here?”
A string of curses tumbled through my mind. I blew my one chance to catch him off guard.
His gaze roamed over the knife, his nostrils flaring. “Mouri inosan.” He shook his head. “You’ve been a very bad girl, Eve-angel-ine.”
“Not as bad as you.” I sat up and tried to force the knife toward him again, gritting my teeth. If I could at least get him to touch it, it would have some kind of effect—according to Resix. Maybe he’d even pass out, and I could break my way through this barrier.
The deity’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into my skin. “Very bad girl.” He twisted my wrist, a loud pop ringing over the drumbeats.
My scream ripped through the atmosphere. Pain pulsated through my arm so violently my vision flashed white. The knife fell to the ground, bouncing beyond the invisible walls.
Son of a bitch!
My hand hung at an odd angle. My wrist was broken.
The baron reached for me, but he stumbled as the ground shook. The gates blew open, and three figures stalked in.
My toujou tingled as Etie appeared through the fog, his hair wildly whipping around from his powers. He’d lost the top hat, jacket, and white button-down shirt, leaving him in t-shirt and black slacks. He still looked too damn hot.
Henri was on his left and Bastien on his right. All three sported hard, battle-ready expressions.
Etie’s glowing eyes found mine and then lowered to the hand I was cradling. His nostrils flared. “This is over, Baron Samedi.” Danger swirled through his voice. He was teetering on the edge of darkness.
The voodoo king snarled and tossed his arms wide. “Goumen!”
A dozen spirits rushed the bokors. My heart leaped into my throat. Etie tossed a few of them away with one wave of his hand and Vondou. But the baron sent more directly toward him.
“No! Leave him alone.” I jumped from the tombstone and bounced into the invisible wall. I cursed and kicked at it, doing nothing but painfully jostling my arm.
Baron Samedi continued to chant, my powers amplifying his. His eyes were closed, lips moving fast. He wasn’t giving up easily. World war three could be unfolding around him, and he wouldn’t stop.
Bastien had Jesse in his crosshairs. If the bokor caught him, he was going to be roasted and toasted for what he did to Marisol.
But Jesse was a coward. He shoved a spirit toward Etie’s brother, and sprinted through the cemetery, disappearing into a cloud of fog.
Henri was the first to break free of the ghostly melee. He caught sight of the knife on the ground. “Stab him, Evangeline!” He kicked another specter away.
“I can’t.” I pressed against the wall. “I’m stuck in here.”
Henri fought past another round of attacks, stopping just short of the knife. He stared at it and then back to me.
“You have to do it, Henri!” I yelled. The baron was in a trance now. He was vulnerable. All Henri had to do was pick up the dagger and stab him. “Henri, now!” What the hell was he waiting for?
A ball of light appeared just outside the bubble encasing me. The scent of tobacco and pralines filled the air as a figure began to form. A bowler hat came into focus followed by a tan linen suit.
Papa Legba.
The serene deity became solid, puffing on a wooden pipe. “Henri can’t pick up the knife, Evangeline.” He slowly blew out a cloud of smoke, his velvety brown eyes glued to Etie’s father. “Isn’t that right, Kalfou?”
Chapter 26
Papa Legba’s words thundered in my ears. No, he was wrong. That wasn’t right. Or I heard him wrong. Henri Benoit was not the evil loa Kalfou. That was impossible.
“Papa, what kind of craziness are you spouting?” Baron Samedi had come out of his trance, pausing his spell. His powers and mine hung suspended around him. No one else could see the flickering light show of white, purple, and scarlet. “Are you making up farfetched stories to stop me?” He chuckled under his breath. “That ain’t going to work.”
“You know I don’t lie, baron.” Papa Legba’s eyes never left Henri. “He may look different, but…” One long finger lifted in the air, pointing at the bokor. “That, right there, is my twin brother.”
Air was sucked from my lungs. My knees buckled, and I stumbled, my butt slamming on the hard marble slab. Pain ricocheted through my broken wrist. Stars popped along my vision.
Henri Benoit was Kalfou, the evil, the darkness in voodoo. That meant Etie and Bastien were…
“ENOUGH!” Baron Samedi’s booming voice exploded through the cemetery like the crack of a whip.
The souls stopped
fighting the brothers. Etie shoved one off and marched toward us, his eyes like searing fire. They were zeroed in on his father. A storm brewed in their horizons.
“Kalfou?” He spat the name like it was acid on his tongue. “Are you Kalfou?” Etie gripped Henri by the collar of his shirt, shaking him. “Are you even my father?”
My chest tightened. I could feel the desperation snaking through Etie’s fury. He wanted more than anything for this man—deity—to not be his father.
“Tell me!” Etie shouted. “Or I’ll—”
Henri’s expression morphed, hardening to stone. He gripped Etie’s wrists and shoved him so violently the younger bokor crashed to the ground, skidding back. “Don’t even think of threatening me, boy.” Slick, impenetrable darkness slithered over his eyes until nothing but black holes were left. “I can break you with the snap of my finger.”
My stomach clenched. What did Kalfou want? Why was he here?
Deep down I knew, just knew, it had something to do with my conduit powers.
A growl roared from Etie, and he scrambled up, digging his heels into the ground to attack Henri. No, Kalfou.
“Étienne, no!” Bastien yanked him back, putting himself between his younger brother and the evil loa. “Keep your hands off my brother,” he spat. “I don’t care if you’re a loa or a bokor, our father or not. You’re scum for everything you’ve done to us and our mother.”
Erie rumbles of laughter seeped from Kalfou. “Oh, I am your papa. You’re both filled with my darkness.”
It was like an invisible hand slapped Etie across his face. Pain rolled through him, and I felt the turmoil churning his gut. His struggle with the dark voodoo was much worse than he thought. It wasn’t only because he was a pouvior bokor. It was because his father was the darkest loa of them all.
I stood, my instincts urging me to go to my alimèt. I bounced off the invisible wall again. Fire swept down my arm, and a whimper slipped out.
Etie’s head snapped in my direction, his eyes widening. “Angeline.” He marched toward me, his body rebounding against the wall. A string of curses tumbled out, a mix of English, French, and a few other languages. His hand curled into a fist, and he punched the barrier separating us.