by K.N. Lee
In an instant, Damballah slithered to my feet and coiled his body around my legs and up my frame until his demon red eyes were directly in front of mine. Aunt Vivian squealed in disgust and took haven across the graveyard into Marcus’s arms.
“She is not as wise as she believes herself to be, my child.” The words did not come from his mouth, but from the air, though they were audible just the same.
A brief glance from the corner of my eye showed he was not speaking only to me. Aunt Vivian flinched at his words as well, while everyone else stared in wonder.
“Thank you for answering our call,” I barely squeaked out. His body was constricting me so tightly I could hardly breathe at all. Speaking was a feat.
“You’re not afraid?”
“Of course. I’m terrified.” I didn’t think it much use to lie to a spirit.
He stuck out his long, forked tongue and ran it over my face, leaving a trail of sticky saliva behind. His breath was ghastly, filled with the stench of death, and I silent forbid myself from gagging.
Unwinding himself from me, he headed toward Aunt Vivian. I caught my breath as she lost hers. She was screeching like a monkey and her feet were dancing on the earth, which only fed Damballah’s humor. He enjoyed her squirming. She finally gave up and fell to her knees in front of him.
“Damballah Wèdo,” she cried. “Forgive my fear. The awe I hold for your power has made me tremble.”
He arched his back so that he rose above her bowed head. “You would sacrifice your young relative to give yourself safety from a bloodthirsty amphibian? Shame on your selfishness. You’re old enough to be much wiser than this.”
“Yes, I know. I know. I’m weak, my dear loa. Forgive me.”
“It is not me you should apologize to,” he spoke harshly. “It is not me you have wronged.”
“Eliza.” She reached toward me. “Can you forgive me?” Tears streamed down her face, and my heart pitied her.
After accepting her hand, I sat on my knees next to her. “She was afraid,” I said to the spirit. “She acted without thinking. I don’t hold any ill will for my aunt.”
He heightened himself even farther, until he was hovering off the ground, and he addressed the crowd behind us. “And what about all of you? Are you all as naively forgiving as your new Queen?”
“New Queen?” Vivian shouted, this time with anger in her voice. She jumped to her feet. “I have served all of you for decades. Taken your children into my home. Taught them the way of Voodoo because you were too lazy to do it yourselves! I have cured, blessed, and prayed for each and every one of you pathetic souls. And you would simply replace me?”
“You have abused your position—” Damballah started.
“And you!” Reaching down beside her, she picked up a stick and brandished it in the face of the host. “I have spent countless hours that would no doubt add up to days if not years on my knees praying to you. I have presented myself in this very fashion on dozens of occasions, and you never once answered me. But her you answer? A faithful servant you ignore, but a stranger’s call you answer?”
She raised the weapon she brandished and started to bring it down onto the snake’s neck, but he was much quicker. Catching her hand in his mouth, he bit down hard, forcing her to drop the stick.
My neck grew hot with panic. I couldn’t bring myself to ignore her screams of agony.
“Please!” I begged. “Stop this!”
He unlocked his jaw, and she held her arm out in shock as the blood dripped down. I tore a piece from the bottom of my dress and wrapped her wounds tightly. Holding her face to my chest, I coddled her as though she were a child.
“You would protect her after such disrespect?” He genuinely appeared shocked by my humanity.
“I would,” I snapped. “I would protect any one of these people, especially her. Despite her opinion of me, she is the only one living that carries my blood inside of hers.”
“I wonder if you would be so loyal if you knew the truth about your parents,” he pondered aloud.
My heart skipped a beat, and Aunt Vivian stiffened in my arms.
“Which parents?” I asked.
“All four of them.”
“Sir Damballah,” Samuel interrupted. “Perhaps we should turn our attention to the future of the community.”
The serpent hummed. “Eager to begin your new life, my son? I understand. Especially now that I have met this unique young lady. She is special.”
“She is,” Samuel agreed.
My face warmed. It wasn’t the compliment itself that embarrassed me. It was the witnesses.
“Very well then,” Damballah said. “On with it, shall we? Vivian Paris!”
She jumped at the call for attention.
“You will want to pay very close attention to this.” His cheeks slid up into a tight smile, and the tips of his fangs hung out. “I don’t need to tell any of you the Voodoo community is weakened, but nowhere is it diluted so greatly than in this little pocket of the swamp. We require a great leader to lift you up from your knees, and as wonderful as your new Queen is, she’s not the one to do it.”
Chatter spread throughout the crowd. They all looked at me with daggers, as though I had betrayed them by not being who they wanted me to be.
“She is, however,” he commanded their attention to return, “the one with the key. She will be the one that will allow grandness back into your lives.”
“She is but a child,” Aunt Vivian pointed out.
“I didn’t give you permission to speak,” he warned. “Your mortal niece may try, but she can’t protect you from me.”
“Yes, sir,” she said through her teeth, poorly disguising her contempt.
“The Great One is not yet born, and it will require some adjustments in tradition for her to become more than just wishful thinking,” Damballah said. “In the past there have been strict rules about who a healer could mate with. The healer’s offspring could only receive gift from one half of her parent. But we need a fullblood.”
My eyes caught Samuel’s and wouldn’t let go. This was it. From now on we could be together and nobody, not even Aunt Vivian, would dare try to stop us.
Cheers of approval spread throughout his audience, but they were not allowed much time to celebrate before catastrophe struck.
The ground shook hard and lightning lit up the sky. What had just been a modest fire meant only to give light behind the altar abruptly exploded, sending flaming projectiles into the air.
Lowering ourselves to the floor, we each covered ourselves as best as we could with our own arms. Samuel’s weight landed on top of my back as he threw himself over me to keep me safe. Ash suffocated my lungs, and a wall of smoke blinded my vision.
When the scene quieted down, Samuel lifted me to my feet and checked me over for damage. After waving him off, I headed into the crowd to search for my aunt Vivian.
Her grainy voice cackled from behind. She sounded like the wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz promising to get Dorothy.
I swung around just in time to see flames erupt from under her feet, setting her body completely ablaze. Samuel restrained me by the torso, keeping me from running to her. I watched helplessly, screaming in horror while her entire body was consumed by the combustion, listening in disgust to the laughter that still radiated from the center of the fireball.
It only took a moment for the fire to burn itself out, and underneath it were not the charred remains of my Aunt’s corpse. The pit of my stomach housed a powerful, emotional cocktail of relief and absolute terror.
Standing in the place where my aunt had just been was now a woman not any older than myself, wearing a deep red, provocative dress with a plunging neckline. Her jet black hair almost reached her feet and flowed out as if it were being fanned even though the air was perfectly still. Her ruby lips folded up into an evil, menacing smile and her neon green eyes glowed, concentrating on me.
“You…” She took long strides in my direction, leaving a
trail of fire behind each of her steps.
“Marinette!” Damballah’s voice rose above the loud whoosh that echoed each time a new fire was lit.
Her body quaked as she tried to resist his command for her acknowledgment, but her resistance was useless. Damballah raised his hand, and as if it were a magnet, her feet lifted from the ground and she was jerked to him, landing on her knees at his feet.
“You old fool.” Her voice was whispery and seductive, heavy with a Creole accent. “This isn’t your domain. I won’t kneel to you here.”
She struggled to stand, and eventually she did break free of his invisible hold and made it to her feet. Damballah stepped back, seeming to realize his host was no match for his rival—not on these grounds.
“What business have you among the mortals?” he demanded.
“The same as yours. To see that these peasants are given the opportunity to become more than rats hiding in the cracks of society.”
“I have chosen the Queen. There is nothing further to be done.”
“You have chosen the wrong healer for the throne.” She slowly turned to me. “I think we all know she is far too weak to be of any use.”
“It is not your decision to make.”
“Isn’t it? This will affect my future as well, Damballah. Should I not have a say?”
“And who would you have rule them? The faintly magical healer you have inhabited?”
“I have been communing with her. Teaching her. She grows stronger every day.”
“She has proven herself unworthy.”
“How? How has she proven herself unworthy? Because she has stepped on a few insignificant insects to claw her way to the top of her empire?”
“The top is not her assigned destination. It never was. Hers is not the true face of Voodoo, Marinette. And neither is yours.”
“And hers is?” She motioned to me. “You would have this little mouse represent our nation to the world?”
His face hardened at the accusation that he had not thought his decision through. “You underestimate her.”
“We will see.” Marinette laughed and a golden scepter appeared in her hand, its head forming the shape of a three-horned gargoyle. Her fingers perfectly molded in the grooves. Beams of yellow sunlight shot from the eyes and again a rumble was growing underneath us.
A mushroom cloud of smoke surrounded Damballah and imploded. The smoke screen quickly dispersed, revealing that he—along with his host Mr. Mueller—had vanished.
Marinette’s laughter grew louder and more maniacal. “You see? Even your precious shepherd will not stand against me. Perhaps he was displeased with your sacrifice, Nicole? Here, let me help you.”
She redirected the light source into the woods, and suddenly the desperate cries of the goat I had set free reeled closer. Slamming through the brush of the trees, his limp body flew through the air and crashed down onto the altar, nearly collapsing the foundation underneath. His broken ribs crackled with each breath he took, and he was gasping for air as he choked on his own blood.
“No!” I screamed, dreading the fate that I knew was coming for the pitiful creature.
She gave no thought to my pleas for mercy on his behalf. Instead, she drew her hand into a fist and a ball of fire appeared above it. She tossed it to the buck, and it hit his body with a blast that vaporized the carcass and shattered the concrete shrine.
My chest constricted and hysteria took over. I charged after her, hands outstretched and ready to choke the death out of her. I needed to feel the grip she held over my aunt’s body crumble under my fingertips.
Just as she came within reach, Samuel tackled me to the ground, and I cursed him for it.
“Let me kill the witch, damn it!”
He barrel-hugged me, preventing me from getting loose. “No, Eliza!” he insisted. “You don’t know her power.”
“And you don’t know mine!” I fought against him for freedom, but it was no use.
“You should listen to your keeper, Nicole,” she said patronizingly. “Little girls shouldn’t play with the big bad wolf.”
“You don’t look much like a wolf to me,” I taunted. “You seem more like a vulture. You’re too flimsy to hunt, so you prey on the fallen. My aunt Vivian was fragile, so you used her.”
“A vulture?”
She flattened her palm and waved it, sending Samuel flying to the ground behind me.
“Do you know who I am?” she asked as sweetly as a Girl Scout selling cookies.
I closed the distance between us and held my ground in front of her.
“I don’t care who you are,” I stated.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” She hovered her hand over my body, waiting for me to flinch, but I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. She bent down and touched her lips to my ear. “I’m the Devil. Satan herself.”
I breathed in deep to chase away the chill creeping up my spine. If what she said is true, it meant she was responsible for the suffering of everyone. Everyone I loved had been hurt because of her trespasses. It was her fault Marie and Lucas were killed—that my parents were killed. This must be what Damballah meant when he suggested I wouldn’t forgive Aunt Vivian. She was in alliance with my family’s enemy. He underestimated me, too.
“Not quite.” Marinette addressed my thoughts aloud. She could read my mind. “I can’t take credit for those fortunate misfortunes. Don’t misunderstand—I certainly wish it was by my hand that you suffered so greatly. I did enjoy watching it from afar.”
Every word she spoke brought me closer and closer to my breaking point, and I finally snapped. My rage overpowered my judgment. I welled up the spit in my mouth and spat at her, hitting her in the eye.
The look of astonishment and revulsion etched into her face was enough payment for whatever punishment she could possibly sentence me with.
For the first time in my life, I was filled with power and self-confidence. I was proud of myself for the bravery I was showing and would never again let myself feel less valuable than Camille, or anyone else.
“You filthy little pig!” she squealed.
She squeezed my neck and I closed my eyes, preparing for death.
“Agh!”
A high-pitched scream of pain startled me, and the smell of burning flesh traveled up to my nostrils. When she removed her hand, I flashed my eyes open. Her face twisted in torment. Her hand was melting as if it had just been dipped in acid, and the bones were starting to peek through her skin.
A flash of light blinded me, and I blinked away the spots only to realize she had disappeared.
16
We searched all night for my aunt Vivian and Mr. Mueller both, but couldn’t find even a trace of them. Two days had passed, and still no word. I wanted to call the police, but somehow after picturing myself explaining the circumstances behind their disappearance, it didn’t seem practical. Sunday morning I woke with a heavy heart, assuming the worst.
“You should eat something,” Camille urged, placing a plate of fried eggs and bacon in front of me. “You’re going to disappear.”
Unable to bring myself to eat with Aunt Vivian missing, I still hadn’t broken my fast. My pants were significantly looser, and even though I hadn’t weighed myself I could only imagine I had lost a good fifteen pounds at least. But I wasn’t hungry, not even a little. Guilt was eating at my insides faster than the starvation could.
It was my fault both of them were missing. If I hadn’t come searching for my family in the first place, they would have never held my ritual and they would both still be safe.
“I’m not hungry.” I waved the dish away.
“Eat!” Samuel ordered, shoving the plate at me from across the table.
Tears swelled in my eyes in response to how harsh he was being, but I stifled them and crossed my arms to mirror his attempt at pulling off the alpha-dog position.
“Eliza,” he said, his tone much softer now, “none of this is your fault. Vivian was working with Marinette long before you got here. Sh
e would have dug herself a hole sooner or later.”
“And what about Mr. Mueller?” I reminded him. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Nobody loved him more than I did, but he knew the dangers of offering himself as a conduit.”
Lengthening my hand, I clasped Camille’s slender fingers into my own and squeezed lightly. “Does that mean if Camille disappeared you would have me shake it off?”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Eliza. I would. It’s the nature of our religion. Shit happens.”
I winced at his blunt insensitivity. Camille was unfazed and kept eating with her free hand.
“Sorry, Samuel. But I wasn’t raised to be a cold-hearted bitch. I have feelings. I worry about people.”
“I worry about you. Nobody else matters to me but you.”
My anger melted at the confession, and I was annoyed with myself for letting him get away with manipulating my emotions again. He used my thoughts and desires as a weapon and damn it, I loved every minute of it. But I still had a miniscule amount of pride left, and I pushed my plate back at him to make it clear.
“No thank you.”
“Starving yourself isn’t going to help anybody,” he pointed out.
“Maybe something a little lighter?” Camille suggested, trying to be helpful. “Some toast? It won’t hit your stomach so hard.”
“That’s a good idea,” Samuel agreed and got up to make it.
“I can make my own toast,” I growled.
“Stop being a stubborn brat!”
My jaw dropped and I froze. Did he really just call me a brat? I was speechless. He may have been a jerk to me before, but he hadn’t straight up insulted me.
He danced around the table, and playfully lifted me up into his arms, cradling my body against his chest.
His lips lowered onto mine, and as if I was a trained puppy I was heeled. I walked my fingers up his neck and nestled them into his hair. Once again, I had been swept away by the gentle but obvious intensity of his passion for me—for us. Dragging my fingers down his jawline, I moved them into the opening between the buttons on his shirt and started to undo it. He moaned an invitation to continue.
