Voodoo Burning

by N. M. Catalano

  It’s my fault she went through hell. She almost died and it was because of me. “I’m so sorry, Dominique. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. And then the next one as well.”

  She opens her eyes and stares at me. “Don’t you dare do this. It wasn’t your fault. He was a very disturbed and sick individual. There was no way you could have known.”

  She’s right, but that doesn’t change anything.

  “It’s all so sad,” she murmurs.

  I get what she means, I do, I’m not a complete bastard. But fuck him, he killed six women, it could be more for all we know, and he kidnapped Dominique to use her as bait. I hope he rots in hell. I hope his death was slow and excruciating. The only unfortunate thing is he can’t relive that horror over again for each murder he committed as vengeance.

  “So, what now?” she asks softly, her eyes still closed.

  I study her face, the reality of what comes next formulating in my mind. “Well, cheri, it seems when you get out of here, there’s going to be a long road of paperwork and court appearances, and reports that will need to be filed. First thing I think we should do is go to Tennessee and bring all your things back. Then we’ll get you a new car, let the department keep that one.”

  She lifts her head and stares at me, the corner of that mouth of hers that undoes me kicked up in a smirk. “Mighty bossy, aren’t you, Mr. Beauchamp?”

  “I seem to recall a certain afternoon when I opened the door, a particular woman didn’t complain when I dragged her inside.”

  Her cheeks flush crimson. “No, Mr. Beauchamp. A woman would love to be dragged by you.”

  I lean in closer and bring my mouth to hers. “We do ravage, Miss Chavelle, but we ravage properly.”

  Then I kiss her, the first kiss of many for the rest of our lives.

  Epilogue

  Six Months Later

  “I know it’s somewhere in this house,” I grumble as search through the bedroom.

  I plunder through the closet and practically crawl under the bed. Nothing there. I spy the dresser. I go through the drawers, everything in them ends up on the floor behind me.

  “It’s here, I know it is, I can feel it.” I turn, the dresser behind me, now with empty drawers.

  Footsteps coming up the stairs gets my attention. I don’t move as I wait for the door to open.

  “Where is it?” I ask.

  Ignatius gives me a crooked grin as he stands in the doorway with one shoulder propped against the frame and his arms crossed over his chest. “What are you talking about?” He steps into the bedroom and eyes the mess I’ve made with humor in his eyes.

  “I know you went to see Hattie. She gave you something. Where is it?”

  He arches a mischievous eyebrow at me. “Has it worked?”

  I clench my jaw, frustrated. “I don’t know, but I’m late. I made an appointment for today.”

  “I’m coming with you.” He closes the distance between us and slips his arms around my waist. With his lips pressed against my forehead, he asks quietly, “Does it feel like it worked?” his lips brush against my skin as he speaks.

  His presence alone has been enough to comfort me through the past several months. It was tough for a while, I had nightmares and flashbacks of the night with the Voodoo Killer, but Ignatius has been with me every step of the way. He comforted me in the middle of the night when I woke up screaming, he’s stayed with me on my bad days when I couldn’t shake the feelings of being watched. He’s taken me to therapy appointments, and he wouldn’t let me go when I wanted to run away. Sometimes he practically had to tie me down, but he never gave up on me.

  And he agreed when I said I wanted to have a baby.

  My body relaxes against his as I melt into him and feed my arms around his waist with my cheek pressed against his chest. His heartbeat is a familiar sound, it’s soothing and is my calm in the middle of life’s turbulent oceans. “Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t feel any different.”

  “Did you take a test?” He holds me closer.

  “I don’t want to. I should, I know, but I thought I could ask some questions about how we can help this along.” I shrug, “You know, just in case I’m not.”

  He lowers his face so it’s tucked in the curve of my neck. “I’m no doctor, but I think the best way to expedite this is to keep you naked and tied to the bed. We can start right now.”

  I chuckle. “You hardly let me out of bed as it is now.”

  He drags his lips up the column of my neck, instantly sending shivers coursing through my body. “I guess we’ll find out today whether the Ignatius Beauchamp pregnancy therapy has worked. You can thank me later.”

  “You are absolutely incorrigible,” I giggle. And I absolutely love him for it.

  He nibbles along my collar bone, making me tip my head to the side asking for more. “You told me that the first day I ravaged you.”

  “It’s still true.” I wiggle out of his hold and fix a glare on him. “Now tell me where the fertility doll is.”

  “Not happening.” He shakes his head as the corners of his mouth turn up in the devilish grin I adore. “Not until you’re full of my baby.” He steps away and begins to pick up the clothes I threw all over the floor.

  I cringe and mumble, “Sorry about that.”

  “I have a feeling I’ll need to get used to your mood swings,” he murmurs as he gathers everything in his arms and plops it on the bed. “I love all your moods. What time is the appointment?” He dips his head down and leans in to place a kiss on my mouth.

  I glance at the time on the clock by the bed. “In an hour.” I grab his hand and move toward the door. “We have to go.”

  “You’re going to feel a little pressure,” the doctor states clinically from between my spread legs.

  I’m tense, I can’t help it.

  I want to have a baby. Ignatius Beauchamp’s baby, to be precise. I didn’t pick apart the reason for my sudden urge to become impregnated, I didn’t rationalize, or weigh the pros and cons to this. I didn’t think in a grandiose life-changing realization that I’d lived through so much death and despair and horror that I wanted to bring love and life into the world. I didn’t do any of that.

  What I did do was wake up one morning and the first thing I saw was Ignatius’ face. I felt overwhelmingly lucky. This man loved me, and I loved him, and we’ve been through hell together and we survived. In that quiet early morning moment as the sun shone through the window in the Beauchamp plantation house, there wasn’t anything I wanted more than what I had. This man and sharing a simple life with him.

  What is the ultimate gift of love?

  A baby.

  Family.

  All those years I spent running away from my heritage and my legacy, the culmination of all the generations that flowed through my veins. If there is one thing I can be grateful to Bertrand for, it’s forcing me to realize that family is all you have, it’s all there is and everything that will always be.

  I resigned from the force. Not because I’d been traumatized. The whole ordeal was horrible, there’s no question about that, but I’m stronger than that. I left the department because I wasn’t running anymore. I was ready to stop and breathe. I was ready to live.

  I was ready to begin my life with Ignatius.

  “Well, what do you know,” the doctor mumbles.

  “What is it?” I ask, peering down at the woman between my legs as Ignatius stands quietly by. I wonder what he’s thinking as he watches a woman examine my vagina.

  I was a nervous wreck the entire drive across town to the OBGYN’s office. I tried not to show it, I didn’t want Ignatius to see how much this whole trying to get pregnant thing was affecting me. I believe that’s why he went to Hattie for help. I’m certain she gave him a fertility doll. The two of them have been whispering amongst themselves quite a lot lately every opportunity they get.

  I wouldn’t allow myself to contemplate I couldn’t get pregnant. I just needed time. I
’d been through a lot. Even though it was mental trauma, the mind causes havoc on the body and affects you physically. It was possible my body was still in freak-out mode and was rejecting everything.

  Even Ignatius’ sperm.

  I think I’m holding my breath as I wait for the doctor to say something. My ovaries are broken, my uterus has a hole in it. I’m really a man, and my penis is actually an inny. Anything to explain why I’m not big and fat with child.

  My eyes are fixed on the doctor as she wiggles her fingers around inside me. Her gaze is locked on the wall with her lip caught between her teeth in concentration.

  I’m about ready to slam her head between my knees if she doesn’t answer me.

  “Congratulations, you’re pregnant.”

  We’re fucking pregnant!

  Of course, we’re pregnant, because this woman is magical and she’s all mine.

  I lean down and cup her cheek as I stare into her eyes and watch the first happy tear slide down her cheek. “You did it, Dominique. We’re going to have a baby.”

  “We did it, Mr. Beauchamp. And I’m so happy.”

  “I want to do a sonogram, if you don’t mind,” the doctor cuts in as she stands and snaps the vinyl gloves from her hands.

  I see the worry cloud Dominique’s face. “Is there a problem?”

  The doc moves the machine next to Dominique’s bed, messes with a few knobs and buttons, then picks up a bottle. “No, I don’t believe there is. However, I just want to have a look.” She lowers the sheet covering Dominique’s abdomen, then raises her gown. The doctor continues, “I know you’ve been spotting irregularly since your abduction.” Fucking Bertrand! “This is the first month you’ve actually missed your cycle completely since you two began trying to get pregnant.” Her eyes move back and forth from Dominique to me as she squirts the jell onto Dominique’s pelvis. “How many months has that been?” she questions.

  “Four months.”

  The doctor nods. “I see.”

  What? What is it you see exactly?!

  She picks up the apparatus that’s attached to the machine.

  “I can appreciate your need for delicacy, but we would like more direct information,” I state, trying very hard to remain civil for Dominique’s sake, but if she doesn’t give us some real information, I’m going to end up in jail again.

  With her eyes locked on the monitor, the doctor starts to glide the thing over Dominique’s abdomen. Suddenly the only noise in the room is coming from the machine as we all watch for signs of life inside Dominique.

  A smile explodes on the doctor’s face. “There you are.”

  “Oh, my God, please show me,” Dominique chokes as the tears continue to roll down her cheeks.

  “You’d better rest up now,” she points to a blob on the screen. “Do you see this little peanut?” We both respond, and I don’t know how I do because I know I’m not breathing, I can barely believe this is really happening.

  I watch as she moves her finger to another blob.

  Wait a minute…

  “And this one here?” She turns to look at us, her grin splitting her face in two. We nod mutely. “Then I’m sure you’ve figured out you’re going to have twins,” she chuckles.

  “Holy shit,” I laugh.

  Dominique’s eyes are big and round in surprise, joy exploding from every pore of her body. “Are you sure?”

  “Quite sure.” She repositions the knob at different angles, although I’m not sure what she’s looking for. Maybe more babies.

  Dominique lands her beautiful eyes on me. “I want that fertility doll when we get back to the house, Mr. Beauchamp. I think it’s done the job.” She squeezes my hand.

  “Cheri, there is no doll,” I smile down at her. “It was my sperm, your magic, and the house wanting to be full of love once again.”

  Dominique’s smile is bright and big and beautiful. She fists my shirt and pulls my face to hers, and whispers. “I do believe the Beauchamp curse has finally been broken.”

  I take her bottom lip between my teeth. I can hear her let out a soft little moan.

  “There’s one more thing needed before it’ll be completely broken, I’m afraid,” I reply softly as I stare into her eyes.

  “Oh really, and what is that?”

  I slowly lower myself to one knee as I reach into my pocket. “Be my wife, Dominique. Be the mistress of Beauchamp Plantation. You are the only one who makes it feel alive. You make me feel alive.” I slip the ring that has been in my family for generations on her finger, once thought to be cursed. If anyone can break any curse, Dominique can. She’s invincible.

  I stupidly thought it was her body I’d craved. I thought if I fucked her enough, if I pushed her with my depravity hard enough, if I was gluttonous enough for her flesh, I’d get my fill.

  I was so damn wrong.

  She was the air I’d been missing; she was the sun that exploded inside my darkness. All the time I’d been running into burning buildings, I’d been looking for the spark that would light a fire to my soul.

  She is my inferno; her fire has burnt away everything wrong and has brought me life.

  She clasps my face between her hands and rains kisses all over me. “Yes, yes, yes!”

  I’m the luckiest son-of-a-bitch alive.

  The End

  Acknowledgments

  A NOTE FROM ME

  Thank you so much for going on this journey through New Orleans with Ignatius and Dominique and me. It was born from an invitation to be a part of a charitable anthology for the bushfires in Australia. I was so grateful to be able to do my part to help out with something so tragic. Who knew it would grow to fruition during the worst state the world and modern man has ever experienced. I'm not sure any of us in any part of the world had any idea what the COVID-19 pandemic would do. The one thing I can hope for you to get from this story is a few moments reprieve from the uncertain and tumultuous things happening all over the globe.

  For this reason, I decided to let this story slip quietly into the world. There wasn't the normal fanfare and shout-outs. I couldn't see this was an appropriate time for celebration, no matter how much I love this book and Ignatius and Dominique. When this is all over, we'll have lots of reasons to celebrate, and I'll have one helluva party.

  I have to thank some amazing women. Thinking on it now, because it's at times like these we do some reflecting, I realize we've been through so many things together, and I'm so lucky to call them friends.

  Joy Di Biase-Giachino, you are an amazing human being, thank you for being a dear friend. Fran Reading, I was just thinking of the ebbs and flows our lives have taken over the years, what each of us have been through individually, and thinking how strong and resilient you've been through it all. Thank you. Linda Grevsmuhl, you are such a kind soul, and life has certainly tested your limits this past year. I hope one day to make it to the land down under and have a chin a wag with you, (do they say that down there, lol). Thank you.

  These ladies are my admin team and beta readers, and the work they do behind the scenes keeps me focused, sane, and very, very grateful. But above all else, they're my friends.

  My reader’s group, The Sanctuary, is the best damn bunch of readers any author could have. I love every single one of you. You have made the group a gotta be place, a safe haven not only for me, but for all the members.

  Without bloggers, indie authors would be non-existent. Without your hard work and dedication to this community, none of us could do what we do. Please know how much we appreciate you, the long hours without pay you put in, your kindness and attentiveness, and your amazing reviews. WE LOVE YOU.

  In closing, I just want to say thank you for reading, thank you for sharing your moments with me, but most of all, PLEASE STAY SAFE.

  We are one world.

  We're gonna get through this together.

  Lots of love,

  ~ Nadine

  About the Author

  N.M. Catalano is an international best
selling multi-published author. She goes by Nadine to her friends, that means you if you like her work, and lives in a small coastal North Carolina town. She has to mow grass and weed eat, and there's a helluva lot of grass.

  She grew up in New York and worked for a fashion designer, then moved to North Carolina and opened a restaurant. Those experiences didn't do anything for her grass cutting abilities, but it did give her a lot of things to incorporate into her books.

  She's been referred to by her fans as the Queen Of Erotica, which is a huge compliment. However, the grass doesn't care.

  "I am just a woman, like many of you, who has lived through beauty and ugliness, happiness, (sometimes extreme), and sadness, (sometimes heart wrenching), and have grown to love life and myself even more. I write because I love the characters, I am madly and hopelessly in love with them.

  I am just a woman who is in love with love."

  OTHER WORKS BY N.M. CATALANO

  Meet The Alphas

  Three bestsellers in one collection for the first time.

  BLACK INK, CANVAS, and STRANGER.

  "THREE STEAMY HOT NOVELS!!!" Pauline, Amazon Reviewer

  "This set of books really should come with its own warning label: Prepare for the fireworks! The three first-in-series stories here are all absolutely amazing!" Fran, Amazon Reviewer

  Find it here >> Meet The Alphas

  The Making Of A KING

  “Gripping. Emotional. Raw.” A Wonderful World of Words Book Blog.

  “One of this years must reads!” Autumn, Amazon Reviewer

  “If I could give it ten stars, I would.” Carmen, Amazon Reviewer