by G A Chase
They each had a lot of work to do, and the first rays of dawn were already lighting the sky. “What’s your relationship to the paranormal division of the police department?” She didn’t see any point in being diplomatic. If they were about to get sucked into a hell mouth, she’d like to know who was leading the way.
“I supply them with information on what’s happening and answer questions about past curses. It’s better to have them as a partner than an adversary.”
Better for whom? But as with all things related to Delphine, Kendell knew the answer without asking. The woman would do whatever it took to secure her place in the family legend. “Will Lieutenant Cazenave be able to hide our activities?”
“It’s Easter Sunday. I doubt there are many police in the station this early. He’s always managed to keep me out of jail up to this point.”
Again, everything hinged on their success. If they couldn’t remove the baron from Myles, no amount of help from outside the Laroque family was likely to free them. Kidnapping a rich and powerful man wasn’t the kind of thing to go unpunished.
* * *
The morning passed in a whirlwind of activity: checking in on Polly and the band to make sure the equipment was ready, arranging for a delivery of firewood, and picking up her acoustic guitar and Cheesecake for the ferry ride to the Westbank. Even with all the chores, Kendell still made it to the enclave nestled in the cottonwood grove before Whit delivered Myles. She noticed his boat wasn’t at the shore. The baron must have had a wild night. Good. It will be his last.
Unfortunately, Delphine hadn’t made it yet either. There were still six hours until sunset, plenty of time, but Kendell felt insecure without all of the people she needed already surrounding her.
“Not much of a crowd.” Polly was keeping active, setting up the equipment on a series of pallets the tribe had scavenged from the river.
“I only need an audience of one, but he’s not exactly going to be enthusiastic about the performance.”
Polly shrugged. “This is your gig. Lord knows you’ve done enough for us. We owe you. If you want to put on a private concert, we’re with you all the way.”
“By sunset, the bonfire should be roaring, the rum flowing, and our audience in his seat. The small village here doesn’t have much, but what they can’t get for you I’ll find a way to scrounge up.”
Mary was the next to grab Kendell’s attention. “Hawk and some of his friends are hauling the wood over from across the levee. I’ve got a big pot of gumbo stewing. Anything else we can do?”
Kendell looked upriver at the roofs of the middle-class neighborhood. “They aren’t going to bother us, are they?” The last thing she needed was the local police, or neighborhood association, shutting them down for not having a permit.
“I’m more concerned with them trying to join in. We’ve run a couple of test fires earlier this week. At first, it was just the drunks from the bar who stumbled over, but last night, we had a group of kids who wanted to use the place as a make-out spot.”
She hadn’t considered the dangers of their activity being seen by the public. “I’d like to limit how many people join in, but I guess with the music, that’s going to be pretty difficult.”
“Honey, I don’t mean to butt into your business, but family is family, and legend is legend. Whit dropped off a bag of special herbs he procured downriver. We thought if things got a little… unexplainable, we might toss the weeds in the fire. Once our unwanted visitors breathe in the smoke, their mental confusion might make a good cover for anything they weren’t meant to see.”
Kendell gave Mary a good hard hug. “Maybe you should go ahead and add it at the start.”
Mary looked around at her family. “You don’t need to worry about us. Considering what most of us drink, eat, and smoke, we don’t put much stock in what we see and hear. Whit says the guy he’s escorting across the river might not be too willing. I prepared a special blend of my private stash to ease his apprehensions.”
Giving Myles pot, or some hallucinogen, hadn’t been part of the plan, but Kendell knew enough other religions believed in the transformative nature of drugs that she shouldn’t discount the idea. After all, Delphine made something of a specialty out of her blends of scents. Based on some of their sessions together, Kendell had to assume not all of them were benign. “When Delphine gets here, let her have a smell of what you’ve prepared. I think you two might find you have a lot in common. Are you sure no cop is going to bust up our gathering?”
“It’s our land. I filed the deed you gave me at the courthouse. It’s a clusterfuck of a case, but we do have a lawyer working for us pro bono. I don’t know how it will end. For now, however, we’ve got legal use of this little slice of heaven secured for us by our angel.”
Cheesecake raced around Kendell’s feet like a one-year-old puppy and headed out toward the river. Three children were in hot pursuit. Kendell was grateful for the distraction. “She hasn’t played like that in years.” But her enjoyment at watching her pup was short-lived.
Out on the Mississippi, Whit’s small battered wooden skiff struggled through the current. It wasn’t the waves, however, that were causing the boat’s rocking. Between Delphine at the front, guiding, and Whit at the back, piloting, lay a tied-up bundle that thrashed from side to side. Kendell’s relief at seeing they’d secured Myles was overshadowed by fear that the baron who inhabited his body might dump him overboard in his rage.
Polly nudged Kendell. “I hope that’s not our guest. He looks pissed. Your plan may not be the best introduction of a music producer to our sound.”
“I hate to disappoint you, but today really isn’t about furthering the band’s reputation.” Kendell knew the time had come. She wouldn’t be able to keep his identity a secret. “It’s Myles. He’s suffering what could be described as a dual identity. I’m hoping to bring him back to reality.”
“Do you really think I’m that conservative? I know a possession when I hear one. With all your little magical objects and how they affect our playing, I’d have to be pretty dense to ignore the source of your power. What’s the plan, witchy woman?”
It wasn’t that Kendell didn’t trust Polly with the truth, but some reality-stretching ideas weren’t easy to explain. “It’s a long story, and I don’t come off looking too good in how Myles ended up in his predicament. I have to save him. Explaining what’s going to happen today, or at least what I hope happens, would sound crazy. All I can say is, prepare for a wild ride.”
“Those are the best kinds of gigs.” Polly left to finish up the musical preparations.
Once the boat hit shore, Cheesecake changed from the fun-loving puppy to the wolf-protector. Kendell had to sprint to snatch up the dog before she had a chance to jump into the skiff and maul the demon bagged and tied in the center of the boat. “Stop, girl. It’s Myles. I know it doesn’t seem like him, but you have to trust me.” She turned to Delphine. “Pull the cover off his face. Cheesecake needs to see him so she’ll calm down.”
But seeing the face so distorted in anger didn’t help either Cheesecake or Kendell. “You meddlesome little girl. You’ll pay for this—you and everyone around you. Kill me, and I’ll just possess someone else. You’d be doing me a favor. I can’t believe I got stuck in this weak-willed, powerless man-child.”
His words struck fear in her heart but not because of his threats. She’d been manipulated into bringing the baron Malveaux back from the dead, but whoever was pulling the strings also limited what the baron could do. Simply opening the gates would have given him power to possess whomever he pleased. By focusing that energy into one person, Kendell, who had deposited it in someone else, Myles, they’d locked Malveaux into one body with all of its limitations.
“I brought you into this reality,” she said, “and I’m going to force you out.”
His sneer, coming from Myles’s mouth, left her glad her boyfriend didn’t have that evil streak in his soul. “Do your worst. When this little festival
of yours is over, I’ll have control of you all.”
* * *
Delphine returning the gag to his mouth prevented the baron’s vitriol from spilling out to the gathering. Unfortunately, from his vantage point as host to the bastard, Myles wasn’t able to as easily shut him up. “Your girlfriend has no idea what she’s in for. Once I’m free of you, I’m going to possess her body and offer it to every brothel I find.”
Myles had lost his ability to be shocked by anything the baron said. “You realize it would be you being fucked, right? I mean, it’s not like I’ve paid any attention to what you’ve been up to these last few weeks.”
“Shut up! You can’t tell me you weren’t watching while I spent my nights with sweet young women. She’ll know what I’m doing to her. And once I’ve wrung that youthful purity from her, I’ll possess some guy who will finish the job on her. You’ll be powerless to stop me. The two of you should have left that dog to her fate and never gotten involved.”
Threatening Kendell was one thing—she could fend for herself—but Myles thought saving Cheesecake might have been the noblest thing he’d ever done in his life. “You really don’t know anything about love at all, do you?” But before the baron could continue the argument, Myles felt a constriction in his throat. Though unpleasant, it was the first physical sensation he’d had since his body had been confiscated. “What’s going on?”
“Shut up.” The baron’s animosity was noticeably tempered by a sense of calm.
Though Myles had an extensive understanding of all of the various alcohols served at the bar, he avoided other intoxicants. But any halfway social college graduate knew the smell of pot if not completely its effects. The aroma, mixed with other herbs and burlap, reminded him of Madam de Galpion’s comments about smell being a powerful reminder of past memories. The baron’s hold over his senses couldn’t compete with the soothing cannabis. Unfortunately, all Myles was able to see with his renewed sight was the bag over his head and the smoke that was filtering in through the loose weave.
“At least he’s calming down.” The sound of Kendell’s voice made him wish he could tell her whatever she was doing was working, but the baron still had control of his physical actions.
“It’s nearly twilight—time we lit the bonfire. Is your band ready?” Madam de Galpion’s voice wasn’t as welcome, but Myles knew Kendell would need help to free him. He just hoped she wasn’t about to release something even worse.
“We’ll be in full swing by the time the fire’s raging.”
The effect of the drugs made it hard to know if the chanting he was hearing was from Polly Urethane and the Strippers or some ancient Celtic cult. One voice rose above the rest, much to the baron’s consternation. “They brought that fucking witch back to haunt me?”
From the baron’s reaction, Myles knew the singer was Maman Brigitte. Her voice, however, wasn’t in the land of the dead where he’d met her. With Polly Urethane and the Strippers providing accompaniment, she was singing through an outdoor sound system.
The song took on a harder edge reminiscent of the music he’d heard at the Scratchy Dog. It made his heart beat faster—his heart, no longer controlled by the baron. As Maman Brigitte’s voice moved from the stage to the crackling fire, someone took the sack off his head.
Madam de Galpion stared hard into his eyes. “It’s working. But we’ve still got a fight ahead of us. Time to try and separate the two beings.”
The baron still had control of Myles’s muscles. Instead of turning to the stage to look for Kendell, he watched the disembodied spirit of the Scottish voodoo loa as it moved toward the bonfire. His heart beat harder, but this time, it was the baron reacting. My women.
Myles couldn’t immediately see what had attracted his attention. As the fire leapt into the sky, he noticed that not all of the visual distortions were from the flames. The spirits of seven naked women danced with wanton abandon in and around the burning logs. Standing in front of them all, singing like a Siren enticing Odysseus from his home, was Maman Brigitte, and the baron was helpless to resist her.
The baron Malveaux continued to focus on the fire and began to lose the strength that kept Myles imprisoned. Myles was able to turn his head toward the angelic acoustic-guitar sound coming from the stage. He made eye contact with his lovely Kendell. The band softly accompanied her.
“‘Gimme a Man after Midnight’? ABBA again? Really?” His voice came out raspy. But her sweet singing, combined with the inside joke, forced a laugh from his throat.
Sitting nearby, Madam de Galpion began a voodoo incantation. The sound sent the baron into a blind rage. “Your spells won’t work on me! You think I’m so naïve as to be drawn through the seventh gates by such obvious trickery?”
The voodoo priestess appeared not to notice the outburst as she continued her chant.
“Don’t be alarmed, but I’m here with you.” Though Kendell still sang on stage, she was also next to him in the spirit world.
“How?” he asked.
“I’ve always told you music is transformative for me.”
The philosophical discussion would have to wait. “What’s next?”
Her heart melded with his. “Battle.”
Turning back to the baron, he saw the women’s spirits pulling at their captor. Simply being freed, however, wouldn’t prevent the baron from repossessing him. Myles had to defeat the powerful spirit on his own.
As if hearing his thoughts, Madam de Galpion released his physical restraints. Like a drunk at an orgy, he joined the women around the bonfire in a dancing, lusty struggle for control. The intoxicants, both physical and magical, leveled the spiritual playing field, and the baron was the outsider.
Myles considered violence simply the physical manifestation of intense outrage. Deprived of using his fists, he focused on his fury. “This is my body—my life. You are nothing more than a parasite with delusions of power. Leave me, and return to the realm of the dead.”
Though the baron had only made strong arguments while in charge, now that he didn’t have complete control, he resorted to violence. Myles grew dizzy as his body swung around as though trapped in a whirlwind. “I am the baron Malveaux, true incarnation of the baron Samedi. Your body, and all those around me, are my possessions. You are merely the tenants.”
“Even tenants have a right to privacy.” Instead of delving into the world of human consciousness, Myles drew forth all the power his soul could contain and released the lightning bolt of indignation directly at the baron.
The seven spirits of the women the baron had wronged pulled at him like harpies from hell. Myles felt his angel, Kendell, doing the same to him. The unwanted union split, but rather than relief, Myles thought an appendage was being ripped from the socket of his soul.
From behind Kendell’s spirit, a wolf the size of a bear lunged toward the half-severed and mangled energy of his spirit. But the attack wasn’t aimed at Myles. The baron released his final hold, which had been sucking Myles dry, and shot out of his body. Like a sheepherder directing a border collie, Madam de Galpion used her canting to direct the wolf to cut off the baron’s attempt to join his women. Without a body, the baron’s clawing at the ground proved useless, and his energy was whisked into the wooden voodoo doll at the priestess’s feet.
Finally freed of the demon spirit, Myles collapsed in front of the fire. The wolf returned to Cheesecake’s body and came running up to kiss his forehead even before Kendell laid down her guitar and rushed from the stage. The last thing he felt before passing out was her cradling his head in her lap while Cheesecake sniffed him all over to make sure none of the baron remained.
43
Myles woke to the smell of coffee, bacon, and eggs. He’d never been one for big breakfasts, but the homey aromas made him snuggle down deeper under the billowy comforter, anticipating a long, lazy morning. After weeks of being denied his senses, he relished every smell, taste, sight, and sound—especially those of Kendell and Cheesecake as they puttered around
the apartment.
Kendell came in wearing his T-shirt and carrying a breakfast tray, with Cheesecake at her feet. “I hoped the smell of my cooking might wake you up from the dead. You’ve been conked out for fourteen hours.”
It felt like it had been much longer as he tried to force his achy body to sit up. “It was good to sleep again. I don’t know how to describe the state between the living and the dead, under the baron’s control, but it wasn’t restful.”
“He’s gone now.” She snuggled next to him and pulled Cheesecake up with her. “We can lie in bed all day if you want. For the first time in I don’t even know how long, there’s no crisis threatening to tear at the fabric of reality. At least, not one that demands our attention.”
“What happened to the baron? Last I saw, he was being sucked down the drain into some wooden sculpture.”
The time she took sipping her coffee made him think he wasn’t going to like her answer. “It’s all a bit complicated. We couldn’t send him back to Guinee, and without going through that portal, we couldn’t send him to the deep waters. I made a promise to Lilianna that she’d never have to deal with him again. Though we had six of the seven gates open, I couldn’t risk him ending up exactly where he started.”
“I thought you made offerings to all seven loas.”
She scratched Cheesecake’s ear, a sure sign that she was looking for support from her pup. “Baron Malveaux wasn’t Baron Samedi, but he was standing in the gate and preventing the real baron from doing his job. Delphine thought once we had control of Malveaux, Samedi would make himself known and we could push him along, as it were. But we needed a fallback plan. That was the voodoo fetish totem.”
The whole plan began to smell suspicious. “She just happened to have a totem handy?”
“I know you don’t trust her, but I didn’t see a lot of alternatives. She has the totem, with the baron Malveaux locked inside, in her curio cabinet that sits in front of her voodoo library.”
