by J. N. Colon
The rip of my shirt echoed. I scrambled up only to be tackled to the ground. My gag reflexes went into overdrive from the sickening, fetid stench. A strangled growl echoed as I twisted around, coming face to face with the thing.
Milky white eyes stared back at me. Bits of dark gray flesh that was once a creamy mocha hung from his bones, threatening to drop. My mouth clamped shut before anything could fall in it. A writhing white maggot poked its head out from a hole in his cheek, searching for more flesh to nibble on.
Bile rose in my throat. My body thrashed in vain. I wasn’t getting away.
Long fingers found my throat, winding around my small neck and squeezing. Air was cut off as my lungs seized with panic.
Why wasn’t he using his chompers to munch on me? Why kill me by strangulation instead of chowing down on my juicy brain?
Black spots converged over my vision, and my head swam with dizziness. A few more seconds and I’d lose consciousness and then…
The thing was suddenly hauled off, air pouring into my lungs.
Those first few ragged breaths burned. My body curled into a ball, the grass cool against my skin. Scuffling and grunts rang out, and before looking, I knew who my savior was.
Etie.
His eyes were lit up like neon lights in the darkness, and harsh lines were carved into his stony face. My skin prickled from the fierceness etching his features. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of his wrath.
A fist landed on the thing’s face, its cheek cracking with a sickening splat. More skin fell off. The undead guy stumbled, using the momentum to fall toward me.
Etie wasn’t having that.
A vicious snarl slipped from between his clenched jaw. He grabbed the corpse’s arm, yanking so hard it disconnected from the rest of the body.
I shuffled out of the way as the dead guy fell, the detached limb meaningless.
“Deplase ale!” The words hit the corpse with an invisible force, sending him sailing several feet away.
Etie marched toward it, dark strands of hair blowing in the sudden wind. He looked wild and untamable, powerful and unstoppable.
Dead guy pulled himself up with one arm, grabbing onto a gnarled tree trunk. He gritted those rotting teeth, a guttural growl slithering from his decomposing maw.
“Rete!”
The thing instantly froze. Etie’s hand lifted, palm facing the zombie while energy sizzled in the air. Frenzied verses in Vondou tumbled from his mouth.
He was casting a voodoo spell.
The more words he spoke, the more the wind swirled, and the air thickened with an electric tang. “Mwen pran kontwòl. Ou pral fè òf mwen. Mwen menm mèt ou.”
The unintelligible snarls ceased from the zombie. His body slackened, and milky eyes stared unblinkingly at Etie, as if waiting for a command.
The wind died, leaves and flower petals drifting back to the soft ground. The crackling energy in the air slowly dissipated.
“Chita yo epi yo dwe toujou.”
The thing slid into a sitting position, his body slumped forward, and his head tilted sideways at an odd angle. He looked like a puppet. And Etie was the puppeteer.
My sharp intake of air caught Etie’s attention. “Angeline.” His powerful legs quickly ate up the distance between us, and he kneeled, helping me into a sitting position. “You okay, no?”
I numbly nodded, my gaze flickering to the zombie. “Is it…?” I coughed and winced from my tender windpipes.
Lines formed across Etie’s forehead, and his fingers gently skimmed over my neck. “It hurts bad?” Those mismatched eyes were still bright from the magic, but they were also filled with something else. Concern maybe. He raked a hand through his hair, unable to stop staring at my neck.
“Just need some water. I’m fine,” I assured him. My eyes returned to the corpse, a shiver trickling over my back. “Is it dead? I mean, more dead?”
“He’s undead, cher.” Gentle fingers brushed over my tender neck, spreading heat through my body despite just being attacked. “He’s simply inactive.”
“Oh shit.” Bastien appeared, his jaw hanging open once he spotted the undead corpse. “Is that a vivankò?”
My face squinched. “A what?”
“Yes,” Etie answered, ignoring my question.
Bastien laughed. “Nice.”
Etie’s brows slammed together. “No, it isn’t, you idiot.” He gently wrapped his arms around my waist and helped me stand. “It attacked Angeline.”
A frown replaced the humor on Bastien’s face. “Why?”
Etie glanced over my shoulder, his fingers running along the tear in my shirt. It was almost split in two. “I don’t know.”
“Will someone please tell me what is going on?” I huffed in a raspy voice. “What is a vivinchew?”
“Vivankò,” Etie corrected. “It means alive corpse. It’s like a zombie.”
My fingers touched my sore neck. “I guess it doesn’t eat brains.”
“No. It does a bokor’s bidding.” Etie turned to Bastien, his body taut. “A powerful bokor sent this thing after her. It was instructed to kill her.”
“I kind of guessed that.” Bastien toed the thing with his boot. “And you took control?”
Etie gave a curt nod.
“Why are you even here?” I asked, my eyes trained on Etie.
“Bastien told me about a certain conversation he had with you.” His eyes narrowed on his brother. “And how he mentioned Madame Monnier’s. After the fight we had, I figured you’d do something stupid and reckless.”
My mouth dropped, and I wiggled out of his grasp. “So it’s my fault a bokor sent a vivankò after me?”
“No.” His arm returned, and I hated the way my body automatically leaned into his. “But you shouldn’t have snuck away to Monroe all alone. You’re lucky Bastien was dying to tell me what a dick I was.”
While I agreed my actions hadn’t been carefully thought-out, I wasn’t going to let him know. “Thanks, Bastien.” I shot him a sweet smile before turning to Etie. “You were being a dick.”
He rolled his eyes. “We already covered that.”
“Why would a bokor send a vivankò to kill Angel?” Bastien asked, waving his fingers in front of the corpse.
Etie’s jaw tightened. “Maybe Baron Samedi had someone do it.”
“Why?” I already made a deal with him. He was going to have my soul—if we failed.
“Maybe he knows we’re trying to break it and thinks we might succeed.” Etie took a deep breath to calm the turmoil inside him. I could feel it, like a storm raging over a turbulent ocean. He jerked his chin toward the vivankò. “Bastien, can you return him to his grave while I take Angeline home?”
Bastien pursed his lips and rubbed his chin. “How about the other way around? I’d much rather spend time with Angel than traipsing around a cemetery with a vivankò.” He winked in my direction.
A growl rumbled through Etie’s chest. “Bastien,” he warned. “Can you do it?”
He waved a hand through the air. “Fine. Don’t get your panties in a twist, little brother. Besides, I know Angel’s heart only flutters for one Benoit, and it’s not me.”
I scoffed in protest even as my cheeks heated. “Oh right.” I gave Bastien the one finger salute as Etie pulled me down the road.
He stayed near me the entire walk to his truck, his gaze shifting everywhere. No other vivankòs tried to strangle me. Once we made it, he opened the door for me, and then his fingers wrapped around my hips. He hoisted me in.
A squeak left my mouth. “I could have done that on my own.”
“I know.” He leaned forward, coating my personal bubble with that heady herbal blend.
My heart jumped in my throat. Was he going to kiss me?
He leaned past me, his shoulder brushing mine. He withdrew a shirt from behind the seat. “Put this on, cher.”
Butterflies danced in my stomach as he pulled the t-shirt over me, his knuckles grazing my sk
in.
“Thanks,” I breathed.
The edges of his lips twitched. “Anytime.” He gently pulled my hair out of the collar.
Great. The Cajun Casanova had returned.
I collapsed back on the seat as he shut the door and walked toward his side. One minute I loathed him, and the next I was melting.
Etie cranked the engine, his mesmerizing eyes trailing over me. A crooked half smile curled his mouth.
Pouvior bokor mood swings, my ass. He knew exactly what he was doing.
By the time we made it to my house, the cab was filled with tension. I didn’t want to get out, and he didn’t seem to want to make me. Even as much as he irritated me, his presence was comforting. I felt safe. And safety wasn’t easy to come by these days.
As soon as I walked into my house, it would all dissipate.
His finger unexpectedly touched my chin, turning me toward him. “What’s a matter with you?” His voice was soft and husky, warm and velvety.
“Nothing,” I lied.
Etie shifted closer, his fingers dancing over my cheek. “You didn’t need to go to that store, Angeline. I’m still going to help you. One little fight isn’t going to stop me.”
I bit my lip. “Really?”
“Of course.” His touch moved, lightly skimming over the tender area on my neck. “No more going off on your own. Promise me.”
How could I deny him when he looked at me with such intensity? His eyes caressed me like hands.
I felt myself nodding before I even finished my train of thought. “I promise.”
He leaned in, his scent flooding my mind. “Is something else wrong?”
“No. I just…” My voice trailed off as he scooted closer until the warmth radiating from his body leaked into mine. “Do you want to come inside and look for that magical thing?” The words tumbled from my mouth, the only sane reason I could think of to invite him in.
His brow arched. “What about your mom and grandmother?”
I shrugged. “They’re asleep. We can sneak into the attic.” My teeth nervously nibbled on my bottom lip.
Etie’s gaze lowered to my mouth, staring at it and making my skin flush. “Okay, sure.”
I snuck Etie in through the kitchen door, my hand clutched in his. A pleasant hum of electricity buzzed between us.
“We should get you some ice for your neck, cher.” His whisper drifted across my skin, and my body shivered.
“It’s fine,” I protested, turning toward him.
“Humor me then.” Etie’s eyes glowed through the dark kitchen, and this close, little flecks of gray danced in each iris.
If anyone walked in on us standing a hair’s breadth apart, they’d assume we were headed for a major lip-lock.
I gulped and shoved the images out of my mind. “Fine.” I reluctantly pulled my hand from his, sticking my head in the freezer. I lingered for a few seconds. My skin was two hundred degrees and rising.
Etie took the ice pack from me as soon as I tugged it out. He grabbed a clean towel from the counter and wrapped it. “Now what about a snack? Got anything sweet?”
My hand popped on my hip. “I thought you wanted to look for that whatchamacallit.”
He patted his stomach. “Snack time first.”
I scoffed. “What are you, five?”
“I might start acting like it if I don’t get any sugar,” he warned.
I rolled my eyes but shuffled toward the cabinets regardless. I didn’t want to encounter five-year-old Etie. I’d already seen enough personalities to make my head spin. Another one and it might pop off my neck completely.
I opened the cabinet, spotting something that would satisfy his sweet tooth. “How about Fruit Roll-Ups?”
He grinned. “Cherry?”
“Yep.”
His body brushed mine as he snatched the box from the shelf. “Let’s go to the attic,” he said, tucking the entire thing under his arm.
Incredulity played across my face. “You’re going to take the whole box?”
He looked at me as if I was the crazy one. “Uh, yeah. I’ll pay you back. I’m good for it, cher.”
“Whatever.” I scooted from around the counter and led him toward a door, opening it to a steep, narrow staircase. “This goes straight to the attic.”
The stairs creaked beneath Etie’s weight, casting ominous sounds, and yet I felt completely safe.
The attic was large, spanning the entire house. Marisol had wanted to renovate part of it into her own little apartment in high school, but my grandmother convinced her it was haunted. She was still scared to come up alone.
Boxes and random furniture were spread out, old mixing with new. My nose crinkled at the scent of dust and mothballs.
Etie’s gaze trailed over the multitude of boxes, sighing. “This is going to take forever.” His arm brushed mine as he pulled a box down and then folded onto the floor. He patted the spot next to him, that rakish smile hitching up his lips. “You coming, Angeline?”
I swallowed hard and sat next to him, trying to ignore the swarm of butterflies in my stomach.
Chapter 15
Etie was too distracting. It was impossible to concentrate while he was constantly touching me or shooting those mysterious eyes in my direction. His scent alone made me lightheaded.
“You don’t even know what this thing looks like?” I shooed his hand away from the jewelry box I was examining.
“I’ll know when I’ve found it.” Etie took another bite of a Fruit Roll-Up and then shoved it in my face.
I waved it away. “No thanks.” I opened the silver box covered in a dark patina, a tangle of necklaces greeting me. “And what exactly does this thing do? Why do you need it so bad?”
“It’s for something I didn’t think was possible.” His gaze turned pensive, staring past the box of trinkets in his hand. “Nothing else is strong enough—to take it all away.”
My skin prickled at his ominous words. “Take what away?”
He shook his head, throwing dark locks in his face. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
I rolled my eyes. “Is there a name for this thing—you know, so I don’t have to keep referring to it as this thing?”
“Bokal.” Etie bit off another corner of the pressed cherry concoction. “This energy in Carrefour bugged me for months. I could feel it every day. Finally, I used a spell to find out what it was.”
“And?” I prodded.
“And…” He shook his head, his expression flashing with pain for just an instant. “What I felt means it could only be one thing. A bokal. I’ve never heard of one so powerful before, but it’s exactly what I need.”
A rock pitted in my gut. There was something Etie didn’t want me to know about this object. “Why do you need a bokal that’s so powerful?” I swallowed. “What—”
My words were cut off as he shoved the Fruit Roll-Up in my face again. “Come on, Angeline. It’s not about being hungry. It’s sugar. Don’t you like sweet stuff?”
I pushed his hand away. “Not twenty-four seven.” Etie wasn’t giving up any more information on the bokal right now.
With a sigh, I went back to my search. My fingers dusted off the cover of a photo album, recognizing the Spanish word for family etched into the leather, Familia. Something poked my cheek, and I turned, getting smacked in the nose with the fruity square. “Etie, really?”
He pouted. “Just one bite.”
I growled and leaned forward, ripping off a piece with my teeth. Plenty of people have shoved food at me, but he was the only one that did it simply to share in his sugary joy. The cherry flavor popped on my tongue. Did he taste like this?
He wore a boyish grin. “It’s good, no?”
I nodded and fought my own smile. It was hard to be mad when he looked so adorable. “Now can we please get back to looking for the bokal?”
“How’s your neck?” Etie picked up the ice pack and held it there for a few moments.
This was exactly what I was tal
king about. How could a girl concentrate when the Cajun Casanova was turning into Florence freaking Nightingale?
“It’s fine, Etie.” The sarcastic remarks melted from my tongue. I put my hand over his, drawing the ice away. “It barely hurts.”
Something wicked glimmered in his eyes. “How about a kiss to make it feel better.”
Before I could even comprehend his words, his warm lips were on my neck.
Heat ignited through my core, and my body instantly leaned into his. That low hum of electricity was back, traveling between us. All use of my brain vanished, and blood rushed to my head so fast I was dizzy.
“Etie, I…”
He shushed me, spilling hot air over my sensitive skin. “Let me make it better, Angeline.”
Sweet angels in heaven. He was magical all right.
Shivers racked my body and stars spotted my vision. This was definitely making it better.
The photo album tumbled from my lap, and my fingers reached up, threading through his silken hair. It was softer than I had imagined.
His arms wrapped around my waist, flooding my senses with that intoxicating herbal blend. Featherlight kisses continued to drop along my skin. I never imagined he could be so gentle.
Those sultry lips traveled up, kissing my jaw, and when those half-lidded eyes peered into mine, they were smoldering.
My insides churned with longing. His rapid, cherry-scented breath dusted over my mouth, daring me to taste him.
Etie’s hand laced the back of my head, pulling it closer. Our noses brushed as he leaned in. My lids lowered, and my eyes zeroed in on his luscious mouth.
I wasn’t sure why, but my gaze was suddenly drawn toward the discarded photo album. It lay open to a page. Every ounce of heat drained out of me at what I saw.
Not possible.
Etie instantly knew something had changed. “Angeline, what’s a matter with you?” His voice seemed far away, obscured by the pounding in my head.
“I-It’s my dad.” I pulled back, releasing his hair and shifting the album.
The image of my father standing in front of this house, leaning on one of the columns stared back at me. Adding to the strange factor, he couldn’t have been more than seventeen when this was taken.