by J. N. Colon
“If there had been some other way to save you from the voodoo king that didn’t involve Etie binding your souls together, would you have chosen it?”
I’d never really thought about it because it was pointless. There was no other way, not one that didn’t involve trading Marisol to Baron Samedi.
If we weren’t bound, I wouldn’t have this twitchy anxiety rolling through my insides, though. I also wouldn’t have an overbearing, overprotective voodoo caster breathing down my neck. I wouldn’t wake up to his unconscious body hogging most of my bed. His scent wouldn’t be left on my clothes and in my room. His laughter wouldn’t be stuck in my head like a song on repeat. And the taste of him wouldn’t be seared into my memory.
Would I miss all those things or relish the peace?
A hot zing sped down my spine, and I knew Lucas would never get my answer. A tall, looming figure in vivid color appeared among the suddenly dull sea of bodies.
My stomach did cartwheels as Etie closed the distance between us, his eyes scorching me. Like a magnet, my body was pulled toward his. The room faded, and he was all that remained. When there was barely an inch between us, his fingers softly trailed up my arm.
The instant he touched me, the anxiety melted away. I could finally breathe without a two-ton weight on my chest.
“What are you doing here?” The question was barely more than a breathy whisper.
His eyes slowly raked over me, burning my skin hotter than lava. “Had I known you were looking so good, I’d have come sooner.”
I swallowed hard, and my knees shook from his mere presence. His warmth soaked into me. Why did I ever want to be without him?
“You brought him?” Etie’s sour tone snapped me back to reality, and the living room came into focus again. His hard gaze was fixed on Lucas awkwardly standing a few feet away.
And there it was. His flip-flopping mood swings were one of the reasons I needed several breaks from the pouvior bokor.
“He doesn’t know anyone but my family, and I doubt hanging around my mother and Abuela is fun.” I gave a shrug and sipped my drink, wincing at the bitter taste. “My grandmother insisted.”
“I bet she did,” he growled.
I rolled my eyes. “If you have a problem, then you can just—”
My words were cut off as Etie snatched the cup from my hand, placing it on a table. “Come on. Let’s dance.”
“You dance?” I stuttered as he dragged me to a group of gyrating bodies. People took notice of the youngest Benoit and whispers started to ignite. It was one thing for rumors to be circulating about Etie and me, but it was a different story seeing this odd coupling in action.
Etie spun me around, a sinful grin curling those lush, pillowy lips. “Of course I know how to dance, cher.” Trouble flashed through those burning, mismatched irises.
He was declaring me his in front of my friends, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it unless I wanted to make an even bigger scene.
Etie yanked me closer, his hands falling to my hips. “I missed you today.” His sweet breath ghosted across my cheeks as he moved us to the slow beat of the music. “I was going out of my mind.”
I knew the feeling. “I’m sure Trisha kept you busy.”
He winced. “She’s worse than a mosquito stuck in the house.”
I lifted one shoulder. “A pretty mosquito.”
A low grumble crawled up Etie’s throat. “Trust me, you are the only thing I want to be looking at.” His body pressed against mine, covering me with his wild herbal scent.
I breathed him in, getting lost in the sensations flowing between us as we danced. Electric tingles mixed with heat spread over my skin. My heart crashed against my ribs, tapping out a frantic beat that matched Etie’s. This wasn’t exactly a display of PDA, but it might have been worse. This voodoo caster had moves, and by the half smile working over his flushed face, he knew it. A fine sheen of sweat began to form over me. I was surprised the lights weren’t flickering.
Etie leaned in. “You’re mine, Angeline. You can’t deny that anymore.” His words tickled down my neck, making me shiver. Goosebumps popped along my flesh.
I licked my lips. “That was your plan, wasn’t it?”
A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Of course.”
It was hard to be mad at him when he was undoing me so perfectly. My brain was too fuzzy, and I couldn’t focus on anything other than his intoxicating presence. My fingers tangled in the silky hair at his nape, watching his lids lower.
“Keep doing things like that, cher, and we’ll need to go somewhere a little more private.” That gravelly voice sent swirls of heat through my belly.
I wouldn’t mind going somewhere without all of the prying eyes.
He blinked at something over my shoulder, a line forming between his brows. After another few beats stretched, laughter curled from his mouth.
I followed his line of vision, and even in my hazy state, I noticed the erratic itching Lucas was exhibiting. His scratching was almost like a dance—his left shoulder, down his right leg, then his stomach, and around to his back. “Why is he…?”
Etie’s body was shaking so hard with laughter, we’d stopped dancing.
And then it hit me. I glowered at him. “What did you do?”
He shook his head and jerked his chin toward the left. “Not me. My brother hexed him.”
Bastien and Etie were sharing a conspiratorial grin.
My jaw clenched, and I shoved Etie’s chest. He didn’t even budge. “Make him stop.”
“I can’t.” He could barely speak over his own laughter. “I don’t know exactly what he did.”
I slipped away from Etie, heading straight for his older brother. When Bastien caught sight of me, he darted away, getting lost in the crowd of girls surrounding him. Ugh! That jerkface.
Lucas appeared beside me, frantically scratching his chest. “I’m pretty sure he did something to me.”
I winced. “Yeah, sorry.”
“You’ll be fine after a shower.” A heavy weight rested on my shoulders, and Etie pulled me into his body. “He was only kidding. It was a joke, no?”
Lucas gave a dry laugh. “Funny.” His soft, velvety eyes shifted to mine. “I better go.”
“I’ll go with you.” When I tried to move, Etie’s grip tightened.
“That’s okay.” Lucas shook his head. “I can find your place.” He flashed a gentle smile before disappearing out of the living room.
My stomach ached. This was my fault.
No. Correction: it was this pouvior bokor’s fault.
I smacked Etie’s chest.
“Ouch! What was that for, cher?”
“Don’t cher me.” I marched off, looking for anywhere to escape the crazy Cajun.
Too soon, a warm hand encircled mine, and I was hauled back around. “So maybe I convinced Bastien to hex the witch. It was just a joke.”
My eyes narrowed. “Do I look like I’m laughing?”
Those mismatched eyes warmed, the blue and green irises turning to liquid. “I’m sorry. I just get jealous,” he admitted. “He gets to spend all this time with you while I’m off wondering if he’s made a move on you yet.”
I scoffed. “He’s not interested in me like that.” An image of Lucas standing a little too close flashed through my mind. I’d simply misread the situation. He hadn’t really been about to kiss me, right?
It was Etie’s turn to scoff. “You’re not a guy, Angeline. I am, and I know what they think about; even your polite, serene teacher.” His gaze flickered toward my mouth. “He’s not such a nice guy all the time.”
Lucas would never do anything inappropriate like Etie was suggesting. He knew I wasn’t available. “You’re being ridiculous.”
Etie tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “I wish I was,” he murmured. “He’s not as innocent as you think.”
I swallowed hard, choking down Etie’s words. I trusted him, but he was wrong about Lucas. He’d spen
t all of five minutes with the brujo. How could he know his motives better than me?
Chapter 14
Etie’s footsteps creaked on the stairs, and we both froze in the dark foyer of my house. I bit my bottom lip, listening for any movement. It was past midnight, and my mother should be asleep. But Abuela? There was no telling with her.
“I can just go through the window,” Etie whispered, his warm breath dusting down my nape. “It’s no big deal.”
I shook my head. “It’s fine. Lets—”
The lights switched on, and after I blinked through the blindness, Abuela’s figure emerged in the center of the foyer, a hard expression on her face.
“What exactly do you think you’re doing, Evangeline?” Icicles would have been warmer and less sharp than her voice. “It’s nearly one in the morning.”
A sigh drifted out, and I descended the stairs, Etie on my heels. “I was going to my room.” She knew Etie had spent the night before.
Her deadly gaze turned to the tall figure behind me. “And Étienne? What were you doing? Walking Evangeline to her room?”
“No. I was going to stay the night.”
Her jaw hit her chest. “Excuse me?”
He shrugged. “What’s the point in lying, Milagro? You already know.”
She crossed her arms against her chest, bunching up her blue terrycloth robe. “I also know what Bastien did to Lucas.” She clucked her teeth, shaking her head. “That was immature and reckless.”
It was my turn to do a jaw drop. “Etie didn’t do it.”
One of her dark brows arched. “I’m sure Bastien had a little nudge to hex Lucas. It’s not in Bastien’s nature to be so petty.”
My back heated as anger simmered through the bokor behind me. “Lucas was looking at Angeline too much.”
My grandmother momentarily averted her gaze to the dark night outside the windows. “He’s only trying to help her. They’re the same—witches. And you’re voodoo.”
A pang sliced through my chest and it took me a moment to realize it had come from Etie. Her words stung him. He was already feeling insecure over the amount of time I was spending with the brujo, and now my grandmother wanted to make the difference between Etie and me that much more tangible.
As much as he ticked me off, I didn’t like the hurt swirling through him.
“Go to my room, Etie,” I said. “I’ll meet you there in a minute.”
Abuela’s eyes widened. “Excuse me, young lady? That’s not happening.” She turned to Etie. “You should go home.”
“No. Stay.” It wasn’t like me to go against my grandmother. Hell, a few weeks ago, I would have been cowering under that glare. Now, after facing the voodoo king, her stern expression lacked the usual intimidation.
“I-uh…” Etie rubbed the tattoo on his neck as his gaze flicked between us battling it out. “I’ll be upstairs.” He gave my grandmother a shrug. “The gwo-bon lyen.”
“As if I needed reminding about that,” she mumbled under her breath. When Etie disappeared, she turned her hard expression on me. “He’s not staying, young lady.”
“I’m eighteen,” I snapped, my blood beginning to boil. “And this is your doing, or did you forget that?”
Her nostrils flared. “I did what I had to—”
“You forced Etie and me together,” I interrupted. “You made sure he cared about me enough to sink into voodoo again despite what it would do to him.” She had no idea what fighting the balance was like for him. I’d only had a little taste of it.
Abuela glanced at her feet covered in white fuzzy slippers. “I only wanted to save you.”
“And he did save me.”
She met my eyes, pain swirling in hers. “I never meant for him to bind your souls.” She stepped forward, her hand lifting to my cheek.
I backed away. “It was the only thing he could do to save me, and now you don’t want me to have anything to do with him.”
“That’s not it.” She sighed and dragged her fingers through her hair. “Having Etie’s powers and yours mixed like this…” She shook her head, looking tired. “It’s dangerous.”
Everything in my life was dangerous. If I ran away from it all, I might as well have given myself over on my eighteenth birthday. “It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done, or would you rather Etie have broken the deal instead and let Baron Samedi take Marisol?”
Color drained from her face. “Of course not. That’s not what I meant.”
“Get used to him being around.” I touched my toujou. “This isn’t going anywhere, and neither is he.”
She rubbed her temples, grumbling Spanish under her breath. “You can’t let him get in the way of practicing with Lucas.”
I tossed my hands up. “He’s not. In fact, he’s the one who told me to quit my job to spend more time focusing on my powers.”
She made a humming sound, not entirely convinced. “I don’t want him spending every night here, Evangeline.”
As if she could really stop him.
“Fine.” I turned and headed for the stairs, ignoring her steely gaze burning on my back.
When I stalked into my room, Etie was already stretched out on my bed, looking way too good to be true. Dark locks fell across his face, and those mismatched irises smoldered. My head spun with dizziness.
How could simply seeing him make me feel so off-kilter?
“How bad was it?” he asked, sitting up. “Did she forbid you to see me?”
I scoffed. “Of course not. She’s just worried about our powers.”
Etie nodded, as if he’d contemplated this too. “I’m not sure anyone like us has ever been bound.” He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Nothing to worry about. We’ll handle whatever comes our way.”
He sounded so certain.
Without warning, his hand snaked out, grabbing mine and pulling me to him. I climbed into his lap, my breath stolen from his suddenly intense expression. “I like this.” His fingers tugged at the hem of my skirt where it bunched up my thighs.
“Yeah?” Really? That was all I could say?
His eyes narrowed. “I’d like it better if you only wore it around me. The guys at that party were looking at you.” His hands possessively ran over my legs.
“I wear shorts all the time,” I pointed out, a fog beginning to descend through my brain. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was putting a spell on me.
“Not the same.” His head leaned forward, brushing his lips against mine.
Sparks ignited between us. Heat swirled through my lower belly, spinning me in circles.
“I love the way you taste, cher.” Etie’s whispered words melted over me.
I could hardly breathe let alone respond to the Cajun Casanova. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding over mine. His flavor was one I could never get enough of. Sweet and warm, like cherries baking in an oven.
His hands slipped around my waist, pushing up my shirt.
The lights began to flicker, and Etie pulled away, chuckling. “We probably shouldn’t continue this.” His husky voice didn’t match his words.
I pressed closer, and he groaned. Stopping was the last thing I wanted to do.
“Angeline,” he warned. “I really don’t want your grandmother busting into your room while I’m doing terrible things to you.”
“She won’t,” I whispered, nibbling his ear.
A growl rumbled through his chest. “You keep messing with the lights, and I’m here,” he murmured. “She’s going to know what we’re doing.”
I pulled back and glared at the talisman hanging in the hollow of my throat. “Why isn’t this thing working?” I tapped it as if I could kick-start its power.
Etie gave a rough laugh. “It is, cher. Your emotions are strong right now. Without it, you probably would have shattered another light bulb.”
“Oh.” Stupid conduit powers.
My stomach continued to growl all the way down the steps and into the kitchen. Abuela was at the stove, cooking up a
storm of pancakes, eggs, biscuits, bacon, and sausage links. Her head swiveled, her brow arching at my approach.
A few weeks had gone by, and I hadn’t come down once for breakfast. I always waited until the kitchen cleared to eat my small plate in peace. Before this whole mess, Abuela wouldn’t have put up with my absence. She wanted to hover over me and make sure I ate more than a strip of bacon.
She didn’t need to worry about that anymore. Ever since I’d started working with Lucas, my appetite had grown. Maybe the strong bind they’d put around my powers when I was younger had something to do with my almost nonexistent appetite. Was I going to finally get curves like Marisol?
I glanced down at my thin body. Probably not.
I hopped on a stool, grabbing a plate. “Hey.” Let’s not make this a big deal.
Abuela nodded. “Help yourself before your sister gets up. You know she’ll eat everything.”
The edges of my lips twitched. “And then some.”
She chuckled and turned back to the batch of pancakes she was working on.
My powers were doing much better. I hadn’t felt that out-of-control, unstoppable swell I had the night in the cemetery. Thanks to Lucas’s lessons and Etie’s talisman, I was almost normal—for a witch. The lights rarely flickered anymore, and I’d only broken a few light bulbs during practice. I’d also managed to kiss Etie without frying anything electrical.
A grin curled my lips thinking of the Cajun Casanova. He’d popped into my room last night and slipped under the covers. I promptly kicked him out this morning before anyone noticed his presence. My grandmother knew Etie frequently slept over, but my mother was another story. Even though I was eighteen, she’d have a heart attack. I was still her baby.
“How’s it going with Lucas?” Abuela asked, sliding another pancake onto the stack.
“Good.” I scooped some scrambled eggs onto my plate. “I’m learning a lot.”
“That’s good.” A smile broke across her face. “You seem much better lately. Lucas’s powers seem to have pacified yours.”
I nodded, chewing on a piece of bacon. “He has that effect.” His power was to calm others. It was no shock I was falling under his influence.
