Voodoo Priest (Blaire Thorne Book 2)

by N Gray

  “You’re that good, huh?” Ralph seemed unconvinced.

  “Yes, he is that good,” Marcus said, a little defensively. He lifted his arm to call the waitress over. “Do you want anything to eat or drink, or should I get the bill?”

  “No, thanks,” Devan said, looking outside. “Is that his shop?”

  We all turned to look out the window. Ralph and I said at the same time, “Yes.”

  Devan rose.

  “Where are you going?” Marcus asked.

  “For a look around.”

  Ralph’s eyes widened. “You can’t go in there.”

  “Why not? He doesn’t know me, and I’m a paying customer.” He smiled, showing perfectly straight teeth. “Give me twenty minutes.”

  Thirty minutes had passed when Devan eventually crossed the road. He headed for the restaurant and was briefly out of view, until something caught my eye from the kitchen side of the restaurant; it was Devan, heading casually toward Ralph’s car.

  The kid was smart; he didn’t want to risk walking directly toward us. Instead, he had taken a detour around the restaurant, and because we had parked the car between several trucks, it was obscured from view in the shop. Devan knocked on the car window, Ralph unlocked the doors, and he climbed into the backseat behind me.

  “Where’s Marcus?”

  “He had other stuff to do,” Ralph said as he turned to face Devan. “Now tell us, kid. What did you see?”

  I pulled the sun visor down so I could see Devan in the mirror behind me without having to turn around.

  Devan’s pale eyes darkened as he spoke. “He sells the usual knick-knacks: books; candles; dolls; masks; incense; bottles filled with potions. He even has kits for vampire hunters and aspiring witches, although none of it is real, luckily. I sensed he has the real stuff out back, though. But that is his stuff; he doesn’t sell any of it. Whatever he does back there must be very dark magic. I’ve never felt anything so sinister.”

  “Do you know how it was possible for him to see Ralph and I last night?”

  Devan turned those dark eyes on me. “I know the spell. It’s just a projection. He doesn’t know who you are or where you live. He could only see a glimpse of your face, nothing more.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He nodded.

  “How did he do it?”

  “I suspect he felt your presence in his house and performed the spell to confirm his suspicions. It conjures an image of the person who was last there and projects a similar image of the enchanter into that person’s view so he could see who it was.”

  “Jesus.” I turned to Ralph. “He must have realized when he returned to fetch his things and I was under the bed.”

  I glanced in the mirror and asked Devan, “Would he be able to recognize us again if he saw us in the street?”

  “Absolutely. I would stay away from him if I were you. Particularly you, Blaire.”

  “Why me?” I asked.

  Devan’s green eye had bled back to its pale shade, but the blue eye was still dark. It was an unnerving look.

  “Has anyone ever told you about your aura?”

  I nodded. “Yes, I’ve heard that it’s white.”

  “It burns bright, Blaire. You are like a star in the night sky—which, unfortunately, makes you easy to find. Most human auras burn a different color or change with their moods. Some are even made up of a combination of colors. Not yours. You are like a source of energy so white that if anyone touched you, they would perish. Your flame is attractive, Blaire, but anyone wise enough would know not to leap, because you would consume them. Not just witches, but vampires, faeries, were-animals—all of them. You could consume us all. And he knows what you are, Blaire. If what I sensed is correct, then I am sure of it.”

  He held my gaze, his blue eye bleeding back to its prettier shade of sky blue. The heaviness and intensity of his stare made my stomach tighten. Ralph touched my arm, and I jerked back in the seat. My heart pounded loudly in my ears, and I had to remind myself to breathe.

  I cleared my throat. “What do I do?”

  “Don’t go near him, and don’t ever touch him.” He no longer looked like the young nineteen-year-old I had just met. His eyes implied an age that was way beyond my years; perhaps even beyond Ralph’s, too. The years he had lived did not match the wisdom and experience reflected in his stare.

  “So, what should we do for the rest of the afternoon?” Ralph thumbed the air behind him. “Should we carry on watching him?”

  “It won’t matter; he won’t be doing anything of importance today.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Ralph asked, frowning.

  At least one of us was thinking clearly enough to ask questions. What would happen if this voodoo man ever got hold of me? Would I be able to use the force of his power against him? I had managed it with Seraphine, but that was something so small, it was practically pins and needles. With a man hooked on the voodoo arts, who knew what dark magic he could unleash on me.

  “I’m sure. I know you don’t believe me, Ralph, and I don’t blame you. I still need to earn your trust. But this voodoo priest sees clients in a room out the back and is booked up till late tonight. And besides, if you consider his M.O., the murders typically happen on a Friday evening. It’s tomorrow night we need to be tailing him.”

  “How could we miss that, Ralph? He kills them on a Friday, and their bodies are discovered on either a Saturday morning or afternoon.”

  The smile on Devan’s face grew to light up his eyes. He looked young once again; a relaxed, playful nineteen-year-old who wanted to spread the joy he felt with others around him. It made me smile.

  “All right then. Tomorrow it is, I guess,” Ralph said.

  Still looking in the little mirror, I said, “Are you here with your own car, Devan?”

  “I don’t drive.”

  “Of course you don’t,” Ralph said to himself, smiling cynically. Turning to Devan, he said, “Can we drop you off somewhere? I need to take Snow White here home so she can wait for Prince Charming to fetch her.”

  I gave Ralph the look he deserved and rolled my eyes. “Prince Charming was in Cinderella, genius.”

  “It’s fine. I’ll take the bus home.” Devan climbed out of the car and, before he closed the door, said, “Come back here tomorrow around 7pm.” He closed the door and left.

  I turned in the chair to watch him leave. “Where did he go?”

  “That kid is spooky,” Ralph said as he started the engine. “Okay, so should I call you Snow White or Glow White?”

  “Shut up.”

  Ralph elbowed me lightheartedly in the shoulder. “Home?”

  “Yes, please,” I said, laughing.

  Chapter 8

  RALPH PARKED OUTSIDE MY HOUSE AND cut the engine. The sun had only just started to set, filling the sky with a warm golden glow.

  “What time is Charming fetching you?”

  “Ugh, stop calling him that. I have just enough time for a quick shower.”

  “Have you seen him shift yet?”

  I frowned at him. “You know that last night was the first time I’d seen him in two months. Why’d you ask?”

  “I didn’t want to say anything before, but the old Blaire didn’t care much for shifters. It’ll be interesting to know how you handle Sebastian when he goes all furry on you.”

  “Are you messing with me, Ralph?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “No, I swear.”

  “Why are you only telling me this now?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know.” He looked out the window. “I’m glad you’re getting out there and finally seeing someone, but I just don’t want to see you get hurt. I know, I know! He only marked you to save your life, and I’m just as grateful as you are for what he and Léon did. But your memory hasn’t come back yet. It’s just… you swore you wouldn’t date monsters, and here you are forever tied to one—and dating him to boot.”

  I couldn’t fathom why I hadn’t liked shifters; I�
�d never felt that way when in Sebastian’s company. I had to ask. “Do you know why I used to feel that way?”

  “Forget I said anything.”

  “No, you brought it up; now you have to answer me. Please.”

  “I don’t know the reason. But whenever we’ve been on jobs where shifters were the target, each time you’d mention how much you hated them. I just assumed it had something to do with your past. We never asked personal questions. Everything we knew about each other was offered willingly.”

  I folded my arms across my chest and stared at the road ahead of me.

  “We started out as colleagues, and it’s only these last couple of years we’ve become really good friends.”

  I knew that, for a time, we had been more than friends, but that had run its course. These past two months, we had rarely delved into the deep personal stuff. We carried on like we were friends, and I tagged along whenever he went to the gym or wanted to show me a place that he thought might jog my memory. Otherwise I stayed at home, hiding or rummaging through my cupboards to see if I had missed any other important information.

  He didn’t know why I had disliked shifters, so it wasn’t worthwhile asking him again.

  I’d never thought to ask Ralph how dangerous I was, if at all. All I had to confirm it was the word of Kit, the private investigator Léon had hired to look into my background, who had told me my name for the first time after the amnesia had taken hold.

  “How badass was I, back then?”

  “Pretty badass.” He flashed a grin. “You were scarily good. Even I feared you sometimes. You never hesitated.”

  I blinked slowly. “And now?”

  “Now? Now, you’re tame, like your wings have been clipped.”

  I frowned at him again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you’re different. Soft around the edges. The complete opposite of who you used to be.”

  “Which is better? Who I am now, or who I was?”

  Ralph opened his mouth to say something, but he stopped himself. He took a few seconds to think about it before proceeding. “I miss the old you, Blaire. You were my buddy. My best buddy. Now I feel I need to protect you. All the time.” He said the last part in a whisper.

  I didn’t know what to say. Had I become a liability to him? Was my amnesia putting our lives at risk? Probably. I didn’t want to pick up a gun or a blade and kill the monsters. However bad they were, they were still people. I might be able to protect myself if it was self-defense, but I couldn’t see myself killing someone on purpose.

  Could I?

  My lip was hurting from biting down on it.

  “I’m sorry. I wish the old me could come back, but I like who I am now, too. I don’t know. It’s hard to describe.” I shrugged and loosened the seat belt. “All I can promise is that I will train harder so that I don’t endanger your life or mine. I will try harder and we can still work together, but you’ll have to kill the monsters.”

  “I know. I’m happy to. Just remember that soon you might not have a choice.” His voice trailed off. The pointedness of the last thing he’d said hung between us for a moment, but I couldn’t argue with it. He did have a point. Suddenly he started speaking again. “Anyway, you need to go. Where do you want me to pick you up tomorrow morning?”

  He’d changed the subject too quickly for my liking—I didn’t think he wanted to talk about it anymore—but if he could move on, then so could I.

  “Well, I’m packing an overnight bag, so I guess I’ll be at the Labyrinth. What about you? You got company?”

  “I have someone.”

  “Who?”

  “You don’t know her. Maybe the four of us can double-date sometime?” He laughed, but it sounded forced and empty.

  “Yeah, maybe.” I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes. It must have looked as forced as it felt.

  I couldn’t help Ralph until I helped myself, and, from the looks of it, I had a long way to go.

  I grabbed my bag from the back seat, opened the door, and climbed out.

  “What time are you fetching me tomorrow?”

  “Around nine.”

  “Great. See you then, Ralph.”

  The house was quiet and dark when I opened the front door. I flicked the light switch for the lounge and kitchen and closed the door behind me, locking it with the deadbolt and the chain. The wood creaked beneath my feet as I walked to my bedroom, where I emptied the dirty clothing from my overnight bag and packed fresh ones for tomorrow. I undressed and showered, washing my hair and scrubbing my body with the new scrub I’d picked up that was supposed to help with scarring. As the suds gathered around it, I touched the raised scar that ran from my bellybutton to my spine; the skin around it was the color of rose petals. I rinsed off under hot water.

  In the bedroom, I dried my hair and kept the bath sheet wrapped around my body. I sat on the bed and listened to the sound of the ticking clock on the shelf, the humming of the light switch above me, and the wind blowing through the trees.

  Normally around this time of the evening, I’d be hearing kids playing in the street, but not tonight. There were no sounds coming from the neighbor’s televisions. No sounds from anyone else. The neighborhood was safe; I didn’t have to worry about gun fights in the street.

  The house was big; a husband and wife with their two-point-five children should be living here.

  I shivered.

  An emptiness I hadn’t felt before had materialized, and for the first time in two months, I felt alone.

  My home was eerily quiet.

  The walls crept closer. The room grew darker as the shadows from the corners reached out to me.

  Standing up from the bed, I moved into the light cascading from the hallway. My chest rose and fell as deep breaths came in quick and heavy. I wiped beads of sweat from my forehead as I searched the room. But what exactly was I looking for? I wasn’t sure, but something was there. The lights were on, but they were dim. Too dim. The shadows were growing, and the light was shrinking.

  I wanted to get out of the bedroom. I needed to get out. I turned and ran down the hallway into the lounge where the lights glowed brighter.

  I sat on the couch in the lounge and hugged my knees.

  My jaw was clenched, my hands were shaking, and my skin was cold to the touch.

  I flinched when there was a knock on the door. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Sebastian.”

  Shit, how long had I been sitting there? I rose from the couch, pulled the bath sheet tighter against my body, and opened the door.

  “Are you all right?” Sebastian said as he entered. He rubbed my bare shoulders. “What’s wrong, Blaire? You’re freezing.”

  I shook my head and bit my lip. Tears welled in my eyes, but I didn’t blink for fear that they would fall. He stepped closer, but I stepped back. If he comforted me now, I would cry.

  “Blaire?”

  “Let me get dressed. I’ll be right out.”

  I went toward my bedroom but stopped in the doorjamb and peered inside. The light was as bright as it usually was, as was the lamp. When I blinked, the tears came, but I wiped them away quickly and closed the door behind me.

  The cupboard door was open, but I must have left it that way when I had packed the overnight bag. I pulled on underwear, jeans, and a three-quarter white-and-blue striped top with black sneakers. I also added a scarf and a hooded black winter jacket made from down feathers. When I realized my hair was still wet, I slipped the jacket off, blow-dried my hair until it resembled something close to being dry, and then pulled the jacket back on again. Before I left the room, I grabbed the overnight bag, added toiletries, and joined Sebastian in the lounge.

  “See, all done.”

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing. Can we go now?”

  The look on his face said that he didn’t believe me. But I didn’t feel like explaining how I had freaked out because of the wind outside and the dim light in my bedroom. It was ea
sier to just ignore it and move on.

  He stepped closer to me and cupped my face in his hands; they felt so warm against my cheeks.

  “You’re freezing.”

  He leaned in closer and kissed me. His lips were hot against mine, and I kissed him back. I placed my hands over his hands, and the tips of my fingers hurt from being cold and touching something so warm. When he pulled away, he left his hands on my face.

  “What happened, Blaire? Why are you so cold?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I whispered, clenching my jaw to stop my teeth from chattering.

  He lowered his hands from my face, and I entwined mine in his. They were so warm. I turned to look over my shoulder, but there was nothing in the hallway.

  He looked over my head to see what I was looking at. “What is it?”

  I shrugged again. He let go of my hands and went down the hallway into my bedroom, and I followed close behind. The room was as I had left it; nothing out of place.

  “Is there a window open somewhere?”

  “There shouldn’t be.”

  He went into each of the rooms and checked the windows, but they were all fastened in place.

  “It’s just your room that’s freezing.” He went back into my bedroom and checked the windows again, including the windows in the adjoining bathroom, but they were all closed.

  He came back into the room, looked me up and down, and frowned. I followed his eyes downward and saw my feet were touching the border between the hallway and the bedroom. It was like my body didn’t want to go inside the room again, as if it somehow knew that it was safer out there in the hallway.

  “It’s only cold near your bed.” He looked at the rumpled covers where I had sat down after I showered. “Did you sit here?”

  “Uh-huh.” I crossed my arms over my chest and huddled myself.

  He knelt down and touched the bed. “It’s freezing”—he felt the bed where it was still neat—“but only in the spot where you sat.” He reached for the mattress and pulled it up. “Shit.”

  “What? What is it?” I took a step back into the hallway.

  “Don’t come here,” he said. He reached for something and dropped the mattress. He was holding a doll.