by G A Chase
She pulled out her drawing of the baron Samedi’s veve. “Are you familiar with this cross?”
She no longer saw Delphine as the powerful voodoo priestess. The woman had skills and knowledge, but her limitations had become stumbling blocks.
“Of course. Legend is it’s a map of the seven gates, but no one has been able to decipher it fully.”
“I know someone who can, but only together can we find her.”
Delphine leaned back in her ornately carved wooden chair. “Then what?”
“I had a visit from Myles. He’s enlisted the help of Papa Ghede. If we can open the seven gates, we can send Archibald Malveaux to the afterlife where he belongs.”
Delphine picked up the piece of paper and looked at it like it was some tourist flyer advertising a nighttime haunted walk through a cemetery. “You think you’re the first to try and open the seven gates? Even Marie only got as far as identifying the seven loas of the dead who guard the entrances to Guinee. If you’re wrong in any of your calculations, you risk letting the dead back into the world of the living or being dragged through the gate yourself. Were that to happen, the baron Malveaux would be the least of your worries.”
Kendell didn’t miss that Delphine had said you instead of we. “That’s where Maman Brigitte comes in. She’ll help make sure we get it right.”
Delphine slid the paper back across the table. “I know I bear responsibility for your boyfriend being possessed by Baron Malveaux, and I’ll do what I can to free him. What you’re asking, though, is too dangerous. To save one person, you would risk tearing open the fabric of reality that separates us from a living hell.”
As a rational woman, Kendell had discounted zombies, ghosts, and witches as horror-story entertainment. Then her concept of ghosts was challenged when Myles had taken her into the realm of spirits. Witchcraft closely paralleled what she’d learned from Delphine. And with the latest challenge, she was forced to accept that even zombies weren’t just the work of fiction.
“Thanks to us, the baron Malveaux has already opened that gate,” Kendell said. “Even though he’s the first one to pass through, there’s no reason to hope he’ll be the only one. Should it suit his needs to have company, who knows who else he might invite to join him.”
Delphine stared at her for longer than Kendell thought necessary. “I’ll bet Myles doesn’t win many arguments against you.” She drew another veve next to the baron Samedi’s. “This is the symbol for Maman Brigitte. If she is expecting us, perhaps it will serve as the token to get us to her. I’m not promising my help, but meeting her would be the first step.”
Leaving the land of the living to communicate with the powers that watched over the dead wasn’t a process that got any easier. Without Myles’s steady guidance, Delphine’s poor imitation of his skills was like riding in a car being driven by a toddler who couldn’t operate the pedals and steering wheel at the same time. Kendell would have been glad to close her eyes to the chaos that circled her, but being pure spirit made the physical action meaningless. The whirlwind finally died down but not before she’d lost her lunch far away in the land of the living.
Her first thought on seeing the emerald-eyed strawberry blonde decked out in a stylish professional skirt and jacket worthy of a lawyer was they’d made the spiritual version of dialing the wrong number. “I’m sorry to bother you.”
The woman’s heavily Scottish brogue didn’t change that impression. “You’re Kendell. I’ve been expecting you.”
“I don’t understand. I was supposed to be meeting a voodoo loa of the dead. Who are you?”
“Those of the voodoo persuasion call me Maman Brigitte. I’m proud to say I’m the only Caucasian loa of the dead, wife to Baron Samedi.”
Kendell turned to Delphine, but the voodoo priestess appeared as only a wavering shadow.
“I allowed your friend here only as a means of your transport. She can listen in but not participate.”
Kendell nodded her acceptance. “You’re familiar with why I need your help?”
“The imposter, Baron Malveaux, has possessed your spiritual mate.”
The revelation nearly shocked Kendell out of her state. She and Myles had only just begun their relationship. Having someone from the spirit realm declare them soul mates left her both warmed to the core and terrified, but she didn’t have time for such concerns. “Delphine de Galpion is worried my quest will open the door between the living and the dead.”
“That’s why you need me. Think of me as your attorney. I’ll represent you in Guinee. As you open each gate, I will be standing there to keep you from being taken into the afterlife.”
Being sucked through that gate was a concern but only a personal one. Letting loose the zombie apocalypse was a much bigger danger. “What about those among the dead who’d like to return to the land of the living?”
“I am only a moderator, not a guardian. My job isn’t to ferry those who have died to the other side. That is the purview of the Ghede barons. But I rule the cemeteries. No one escapes once I’ve passed judgment.”
“And you will ensure that the spirit of Archibald Malveaux returns to the dead?”
The woman crossed her freckled pale-white arms over her silk blouse. “That I cannot do. He is close enough to being a Ghede that my powers over him are limited. You will need to separate Myles from Malveaux. With the gates open, those of us in Guinee will hold the evil spirit. I will then make sure Myles regains full and sole use of his body.”
Kendell suspected that would be the best she could hope for, but there was one other soul she had to consider. “What can be done for my ancestor, Lilianna Broussard? She and six others have been held in Guinee—prevented from crossing into the deep waters.”
“This is a matter for the Ghede family. The women have been used as bribes. We will judge our own.”
Kendell knew the risks, and hearing that Maman Brigitte wasn’t all-powerful hadn’t come as a surprise. “Myles is worth the risk, at least to me. Show me how the veves of you and Baron Samedi fit together.”
The woman conjured the two symbols, one in each hand, and fit them together as though they were pieces of a three-dimensional puzzle. Cemeteries and crypts appeared out of the chaos of lines. Kendell turned to the wavering shadow of Delphine, who nodded as she studied each image. They had their plan for the seven gates.
* * *
Kendell knew what she had to do—study. Madam Delphine de Galpion wasn’t a huckster, but her skills were not even close to what was needed to free Myles. The one thing the voodoo woman did have was a library. Even before Cheesecake had become Kendell’s soul puppy, books had been old friends. The answer of how to separate Myles from the baron Malveaux had to be somewhere in that room filled with long-unread incantations. Like any good librarian, Delphine was only too happy to have her precious charges revered and used for their intended purposes. It took only moderate convincing to gain unrestricted access, even when she wasn’t present.
Each day after serving coffee, Kendell rushed across the Quarter to Scratch and Sniff perfumery. Delphine slept until six each afternoon. That gave Kendell five hours of uninterrupted investigation into the old books of curses. The first day of translating the words into English, and then decoding the messages, had been totally frustrating. With the baron’s glasses, however, Kendell was able to use the dark power to read the journals easily as if they were children’s stories. And like books written for someone still learning the basics, much of what the journals contained was either repetitious, overly simplistic, or downright incorrect.
Kendell took off the glasses and tossed them on her page of notes. Four days of study would have been nothing in college, but with the baron running around in Myles’s body, every minute might lead to some unimagined disaster. The possibilities filled her nightly dreams.
“Any luck?” Delphine peered over her shoulder.
“What do you know about musical incantations?”
The dark woman took her cust
omary seat across from Kendell, but now she was the student, and Kendell felt like a teacher struggling to stay one class session ahead. “Like smell, music is an underappreciated gateway into the hidden reaches of the soul.”
Kendell considered giving her a failing grade for the answer. Delphine had a general knowledge of most of what was hidden in her library but hadn’t bothered to delve below the obvious. “For tomorrow, I’d like a list of curses Marie cast using song—though, as the only cursed item I’ve got left is those glasses, I don’t see how I can get the band to play a number worthy of breaking the possession.”
“The curse will only hinder what you want to do. The baron Samedi will detect the dark energy. Remember, Marie’s original curse wasn’t intended to harm Archibald Malveaux, only his heirs.”
Just perfect. At least the limitation meant she wouldn’t be getting stink eye from Cheesecake. “Myles always said I played better without the curse’s amplification.”
Delphine pulled a rough-hewn wooden crate out of her bag. Opening the box, she revealed a hideous wood sculpture that resembled a tormented man. “This was left by Marie Laveau. She received it from a freed slave from West Africa. Think of it as part voodoo doll, part spirit jar, and part ancestral totem. The blue-glass jar in its belly will be able to contain the baron Malveaux’s spirit. Should Maman Brigitte fail to find a loa of the dead capable of transporting Malveaux to the deep waters, this totem might be our only hope for containing him.”
Just looking at it gave Kendell the creeps. Square-cut nails had been hammered into its head, though she couldn’t tell if they were meant to imitate hair or instruments of torture. “We still need to figure out how to separate Myles from the baron.”
“There’s a dance of the loa called the banda. It will attract the dark spirits, including the baron Malveaux’s. I’ll warn you, the dance is considered one of the most sexually explicit ever conceived. The loas pride themselves on their sexual perversions. If we can convince the spirits of the seven women to dance, Malveaux might be tempted out by their flirtations.”
Kendell imagined that women dancing naked around a bonfire would be required at some point. Hopefully, the musicians would be exempt from the dress-less code. “I have some ideas regarding musical pieces that might work as accompaniment.”
* * *
Kendell knew Myles would have a hissy fit if he knew about her wandering past the Central Business District to a spot under the freeway overpass at night. The area was a good place for an attractive young woman to meet with an unfortunate end, but she had to test Whit’s promise, and this was the most likely spot to find the person she needed.
As she approached Camp Street, she knew she wasn’t alone. The shuffling sound of soft soles against the cement sidewalk was too close for comfort.
You’d better be right. She stopped and turned to the man following her. “I’m Kendell Summer.”
“I know. Even angels sometimes need protection. You wouldn’t be down here among the homeless unless you needed something from us. Just name it.”
She breathed a little easier. Thinking of herself as safe among the indigent didn’t come easily after a lifetime of being told to be wary. “I need to keep tabs on Myles Garrison’s location. He’s dressed like a rich old-time banker. Most days, he’s at the New Orleans Bank and Trust, but I need to know where he is at all times. Can you help?”
“He’s been seen quite often with Abigail Laroque. Don’t look so surprised. We don’t just keep our eyes on ordinary people. You think we wouldn’t know the names of the rich and powerful?”
She might be the daughter of their patron saint, but that didn’t mean she was immune to their sarcasm. “I’m going to need to have him abducted. It’ll have to be a covert mission to keep the police from ruining everything I have planned.”
The man rubbed his bristle-covered chin. “He doesn’t frequently wander into our neighborhoods. But he has shown a marked interest in some of the seedier strip clubs. Give me a couple of days, and I should be able to convince some friends of friends to entice him into our clutches.”
She reminded herself that it was the baron Malveaux who was seeking out sexual pleasures and not Myles. “I need him on Easter Sunday by late afternoon. If you know me, then you know my people across the river. That’s where I need him delivered.”
“We will do what we can. Now, if you’ll allow me, I’ll escort you out of this area. Those of us who are longtime residents under the overpass know who you are, but that doesn’t mean you have universal safe passage down here. There are always strangers around.”
She didn’t ask his name. It wasn’t a matter of not wanting to know. He was one of many. To focus her request on only him would be an insult to the others and an undue burden on the individual. Instead, she reached out and took his hand. “Thank you.”
He walked her to the edge of the Quarter. “You’ll be safe from here.”
She agreed, and having him continue with her would only attract the attention of the police anyway. “I suspect you know where I live. If there’s a problem, find me.”
“We’ll let your family know to expect you.”
He turned down an alleyway. Though she could still make him out among the dumpsters, she knew he was as unnoticeable as the street’s potholes to everyone else.
Her next stop wasn’t as seedy, but the dudes were less classy. Without Myles to provide cover for her presence in the bar, she was just another woman to be hit on by the inebriated assholes who didn’t know how to accept a woman’s brush-off.
It took an uncomfortably long five minutes to get the bartender’s attention. “Hey, Charlie. I need a favor. It’s for Myles. Can you lay your hands on a high-quality, historic-brand bottle of rum?”
Charlie poured a drink for the letch who had slid onto the seat next to her but spun it far enough down the bar that the man had to get up to fetch it like a stray dog after a bone. “Anything to entice him back to work. Are we talking sipping rum or fancy cocktails?”
She leaned in to avoid being overheard. “We’re talking an offering to the loas of the dead.”
His eyes didn’t leave hers as he favored her with a laugh at the assumed joke. “Myles said you had a bit of a sexy-witch vibe about you. Hang on for a bit, and I’ll dig you up something from the back room.” Before he left, he motioned to a shot girl in an unbelievably short black dress. “Keep an eye on my friend. She’s Myles’s girlfriend. It wouldn’t do if she got swept away by one of our dashing customers while I wasn’t looking.”
“I’ll distract anyone who might get too frisky.” The girl gave Kendell a wink as she twirled the rack of colorful test tubes filled with alcohol.
Kendell wasn’t sure she needed the help, but the men did turn their heads toward the flirtatious bar girl instead of making eye contact.
Charlie returned with a paper bag to disguise his treasure. “Mount Gay Rum, one of the oldest distillers in the world. This bottle of 1703 is one of only twelve thousand released this year. It’s made in Barbados. This should please pirate captain and voodoo king alike.”
She was afraid to ask. “What do I owe you?”
“You think I’d let Myles Garrison’s girlfriend pay for a drink? I’ll settle up with him when the time comes. I like the thought of him owing me a favor.”
41
“Do we have to do this at night?” Saint Louis Cemetery No. 1 was creepy enough during the day. Lit by only the full moon, the aboveground tombs left Kendell wondering how many spirits were about to mug her.
Delphine pulled a set of keys from her satchel. “During the day, tour groups fill the cemetery. The guards are pretty careful about preventing vandalism, which includes not letting people make offerings to the dead.”
“And how is it that you have access at night?”
Despite Delphine’s dark features, Kendell could make out her look of consternation in the dim light.
“Families of the dead are allowed in at any time.” The voodoo priestess p
ointed toward a crypt. “That’s the resting place of Marie Laveau. Once I proved my identity to the authorities, they were only too happy to grant access to an actual descendent of the voodoo queen.”
“So how does this work? We leave a shot of rum inside the cemetery gate and leave?”
Delphine swung the gate closed and locked it behind her. “Unfortunately, no. Each gate of Guinee corresponds to an individual tomb. We’re in luck with our first mission as it’s Marie’s tomb. It’ll get more complicated after tonight.”
“What happens after we leave our offering?”
“I don’t know. Maybe nothing. No one who knows what they’re doing has ever tried opening the gates.”
The brick-and-plaster structure didn’t look all that different from any of its neighbors. Discrete sets of three Xs were scratched into the fresh white paint. Delphine mumbled an incantation in French and set out the shot glass.
Kendell carefully filled the glass with the rum Charlie had given her. “Is that it?”
“Not quite.” The deep, masculine voice caused Kendell to spin around and face a man wearing a dusty, worn tuxedo with long coattails.
Delphine bowed to the man. “You must be Baron LaCroix.”
“That I am.” He lifted the shot glass and drained it in one gulp. “Join me for a second drink. I would like to hear why such a beautiful young woman would wish the return of a single man or why he would desire to turn away from the deep waters. Surely she could find plenty of others willing to share her bed.”
Kendell had heard enough from Delphine to know the loa lacked discretion, especially when it came to sex. She took the offered shot glass, poured herself a drink, and did her best to down it as fast as the baron had done with his. “He’s a good lay.”
The dark man leaned back and let out a laugh that filled the cemetery. “That is a reason to return from the dead. Sex is only truly enjoyable when life and death are at stake.”
