The Malveaux Curse Mysteries Boxset 2

by G A Chase

  Kendell felt bad for the old man. He’d spent his life trying to protect his family from the curse and never had the resources to combat the man who’d caused it. “We have Baron Samedi’s cane and the silver skull that controls its power, but we need to figure out how to connect the two. Once we can use its magic, we can help you.”

  “Voodoo again.” Antoine sighed. “You’ll need to talk to Delphine de Galpion. I’ll open a portal.”

  The back of the Bywater double faded to black, and then a projection of Scratch and Sniff’s back room filled the garage opening. Delphine walked into the voodoo library and sat at her African-motif throne. “I’m ready.” She closed her eyes.

  The window into life made Kendell’s heart ache, but she didn’t have time for such emotions. “What is the significance of Marie Laveau holding the cane? Do I sing to it to get her to let go?”

  Delphine talked in the monotone she used when in a trance. “She wrote that only the one who was meant to have the cane would be able to make her let it go. Like Colin, I assumed she meant during her life—that she’d stolen it from Guinee for a specific person. Of course, the obvious answer was Archibald Malveaux, but from what Baron Samedi and Papa Ghede said about him taking it from Marie, I’m no longer sure about that interpretation. If her specter now holds the cane, I’m guessing the rightful heir hasn’t come forward yet. So long as she’s in possession of the cane, she’ll have a say in how it’s used—even if it’s just her bony dead hand that’s holding it.”

  Kendell felt relief that Delphine had found a way of keeping track of what was happening in hell. She filed the information away for a later time. “Baron Samedi said once we affix it to this hell, he can work with it, but what if the bones aren’t removed?”

  “The loas know everything, and I’m just a student, but they aren’t always to be trusted. Their perception of time, space, and reality differs so much from what we endure that it’s hard to know when they’re helping and when they’re not. Making the cane real in your current situation seems like a good move so long as Colin doesn’t end up with it. Just be careful.”

  Kendell pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket and started taking notes. “Right. How do we do that?”

  11

  Cheesecake’s pups were standing guard at the bank entrance. In spite of their ferocious appearance, Kendell desperately wanted to give each one a giant hug, but there was work to do and an enemy possibly watching from the shadows. Colin would gain too much power if he realized the fearsome beasts who’d gotten the better of him were actually Kendell’s sweet girl and her pups.

  The she-wolf took up position with the other guard dogs as Kendell entered the bank. A quick wag of the tail told her that Cheesecake was also aware of the situation. “You dogs all deserve special treats when we get back.”

  Doughnut Hole let out a quiet whimper as Myles patted his head, but he remained at his post.

  Kendell snuggled close to Myles’s side as they faced the band, Sanguine, and Baron Samedi. “We have a plan,” she said. “It’ll take all of us to pull it off, but Delphine is confident if we perform the ritual to the letter, the silver skull will connect to the cane. Sanguine, as you’re Wiccan and not part of the voodoo tradition, all Delphine could say was you needed to provide some form of energy and would know what would work.”

  Sanguine, usually the first to show reservation about one of Kendell’s ideas, was surprisingly upbeat. “The plants around here won’t do me any good, but dance has often proved a powerful means of casting spells.”

  Kendell consulted the pages of sheet music. “That actually might work better than you think. Baron Samedi, the cane once belonged to you. Your blessing is needed to make this work.”

  The thin man behind the desk had grown so ghostly pale she wasn’t sure if he was even still part of this astral plane. “I’ll hold the cane during the ceremony. That should pacify any deity that might question my approval.”

  She wondered if he’d be capable of anything other than sitting behind the desk with the cane in hand. The band was going to be the hard part. As she handed out the sheet music, she hoped each member would take a breath before responding.

  “No. Are you kidding?” Polly usually took point on any issue on which she had an even passing opinion.

  Kendell leaned back against the oversized wooden desk in the elegant bank office. “It has to be this one.”

  Lynn usually tried to find a compromise everyone could live with. “I get the idea, but couldn’t we go with ‘Twist and Shout’ or even ‘Twistin’ the Night Away’? It just seems like this is a little not us.”

  Scraper said, “This should be the theme song for the Mutants at Table Nine. In fact, I think I’ve heard them play it.”

  Kendell had to rein in the situation. “The cane isn’t some twist-top Coke bottle. The skull has to be firmly spun on. For this to work across dimensions, Delphine needs to be singing the same song as we are. This is the only number she knows that will work for us. The woman is not musically inclined.”

  Minerva kept staring at the page as though she expected to see a different song. “This song was cheesy when it came out. It’s the opposite of punk—more like puke.”

  Baron Samedi toyed with the cane by holding the femur and twirling it like a propeller. “So none of you wishes to play the number? Perfect. Remember, this is hell. Once you play the piece, you won’t want to ever do it again. We’re casting a spell here, not entertaining an audience. Without knowing the piece, based on the strong emotional reaction each of you is giving off, I’d have to guess it will continue in humanity’s awareness—what you call history. That’s also helpful in maintaining the connection.”

  Polly gave the page another once-over. “Well, I can’t sing it. It was meant for a man’s voice.”

  Minerva handed her a tambourine. “Join me and Scraper in the rhythm section. We’re going to need all the help we can get to keep this thing on track.”

  Kendell knew she had to get going with casting the spell before she faced a full revolt. “I’ll do the singing. Lynn, care to start us off?”

  “Only under duress, baby.”

  “Well, you do look like you’re lots of fun,” Polly joked.

  By the time the chorus of “You Spin Me Round” came up, the girls were firmly into their campy rendition. Sanguine spun around the room as if she were acting out the words. Her long dress floated around her like the waves of an ocean.

  Spinning opposite her was the silver skull. The small sculpture made from pieces of eight looked to be drunkenly enjoying the spectacle. Though Kendell knew that was the intention, the song still bugged her. I’m going to have this friggin’ earworm for a month.

  Myles took the guitar from her and set it against the wall. “How did we do?”

  Baron Samedi aimed the silver skull at Kendell. “Take it.”

  She grabbed the trinket. The cane and bones came along with it. Tentatively, she put her other hand on the staff. “It’s solid. But what use is it with Marie’s hand bones still wrapped around it?”

  Baron Samedi took his cane back. “It’s a step forward. The magic of Guinee is now available in this hell.”

  Kendell knew they needed all the help they could get, but the voodoo loa wasn’t looking so sharp. “So with it you can return to Guinee?”

  He looked up in surprise. “No. You’re aware of how the gates are opened. Just because I’m one of the guardians, that doesn’t change the fundamental nature of the seven gates.”

  “I thought this was all about rescuing you.”

  Myles put his hand on her back. “My job was to get the cane back to Samedi. Your job is to repair this hell so Colin can’t just walk out. I’m thinking there’s an intersection we might have missed.”

  She looked at Baron Samedi, hoping for some explanation.

  “I’m here to help you,” he said. “Agnes Delarosa missed a simple truth about Guinee. Our realm between life and death isn’t simply a turnstile to the deep
waters. Not everyone who dies is ready to have their soul returned to the human continuum. There are seven gates in Guinee for a reason. No one loa is given full power over whether a person can pass or not. Each soul needs to prove itself seven times to move on. Those who fail the tests reside in Guinee until they’ve learned their life lessons—which some never do. This hell, however, only has one gate back to life, and it’s boarded up.”

  Kendell began to wonder if they’d ever get to leave. “And the old swamp witch makes up this reality, so she’s not even a guardian of the gate. That’s the secret you didn’t want Colin to find out. It’s the reason you’ve stayed in hiding.”

  He held up the cane. “With this, I can help you build the seven gates from your reality to this hell. Then we can talk about opening the gate to Guinee, but I won’t leave this realm until I know you can all safely make it home.”

  Though she’d visited the seven gates of Guinee to offer libations to the loas for the freeing of Myles, Kendell had no idea how such portals were created. “If we build the gates, we’ll give Colin a mission to keep him occupied. That should save me and Sanguine from having our souls battered by him in his attempts to escape. As with the gates to Guinee, just because they exist, that doesn’t guarantee that he would be allowed to pass. But how would we even go about creating the gates? And who would man them?”

  Baron Samedi lifted the voodoo totem, with her golden pick attached, off the floor and set it on the desk. “This may be the most obvious choice, but I leave scouting out the other six to you.”

  “But that’s a voodoo object. How would that work as a portal between hell and life?”

  He ran his finger across the triangle of gold. “This belongs to you. Though it’s more than you suspect.”

  She knew there was more to the gift from the loas than just a way to wail on her guitar. “I’ve worked with it, but so far, I haven’t figured out how to unlock its full powers. Is that what I use to create the gates?”

  “As a member of the living, you don’t build them. I do. We meant for this object to be your way out of the curse, should you want it. As you guessed, it is a magical box, but instead of having a prize hidden in it, it’s a place for you to stash your connection to the Malveaux curse.”

  From the moment she’d learned about the curse, and her integral part in controlling it, she’d never considered what it would feel like to be rid of the obligation. “I’d be free?”

  “Think of it more as your connection to the curse being taken from your soul and kept like a keepsake on a shelf. Only what I’m proposing is that the shelf be kept here in hell. With your voodoo skills, you can check in on it whenever you like, but you’ll no longer have the nightmares from hell. And should the time ever come when Colin seeks to be free, and you agree, this will work as your personal gate.”

  The triangle sat on top of the horrendous wooden head like some kind of miniature French tricorn hat.

  “And the voodoo totem would act as a prison should he fail?” Kendell asked.

  “It will certainly keep him from bothering you needlessly.”

  Though she’d grown fond of the expensive token of appreciation, the idea of not being responsible for watching over a devil had its appeal. “Making the connection to the curse was pretty intense. I spent a lot of time barfing in Delphine’s voodoo parlor. I’m not sure I’m up for a similar grilling here in hell.”

  “Delphine de Galpion is only a voodoo priestess. I am a loa of the dead. You can rest assured my powers are superior to hers. This would be the seventh gate from hell to life. Find the other six first. You can decide if it’s right for you later.”

  “What are the requirements for a gate?” Myles asked.

  “The gates need to be physical places in this world but also connected to another dimension.”

  Kendell thought she understood. “So something like the drawing Miss Fleur did of Serephine’s eyes.”

  “I would suggest something more along the lines of the steamer trunk. You’ll want your gate to be substantial enough that you’re not manifesting onto a soggy piece of rat-chewed paper. There’s a reason why the gates to Guinee are burial mausoleums hidden away in cemeteries. Few people are bold enough to vandalize a city of the dead.”

  Myles paced opposite Baron Samedi behind the desk, a sure sign he was processing his thoughts. “For the sake of argument, say we did use Miss Fleur’s trunk. Would that make her the guardian?”

  Baron Samedi twirled the cane via Marie’s arm bone. “Being a guardian to a gate in hell isn’t the kind of job you just want to dump on someone. You’d have to make contact and ask her.”

  “But she’s dead, isn’t she?” Polly asked.

  “Dimensions—”

  Polly raised her hand. “Never mind. I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know.” For the first time that Kendell could remember, the bandleader meekly took her place against the wall with the rest of the girls.

  Kendell began arranging the information in her mind. “Assuming she agrees, then what?”

  “Once you have the place and the guardian, draw a veve for each location so I’ll know where to look. After you have all seven ready to go, we’ll perform our magic. With me helping, the ritual won’t be much more involved than what you did here with the cane.”

  “So long as we get to choose the songs,” Scraper mumbled.

  12

  Kendell stood on the bank steps, trying to envision all of New Orleans. “Where should we start?”

  Scraper ran down the steps, grabbed a rock from under an oak tree, and returned to the group. “Why don’t we just make the seven gates out of rocks? We could scatter them all over New Orleans or dump them in Lake Pontchartrain. He’d never find them.”

  Sanguine took the stone and heaved it back toward the grass border. “Wouldn’t work. We’d be in exactly the same situation we’re in now. In all religions, redemption must be possible. The gates will have to be places he could figure out. So I guess the question isn’t so much where would we start as where would he?”

  Myles sat on the step. The dogs quickly circled around him. “If it were me, I’d be looking for where we as his adversaries have been the most comfortable. He’d think we’d be most apt to try to create a gate on our home turf. That dude is all about home-field advantage.”

  “You’re talking about Mary and the Westbank?” Kendell asked.

  “In all this craziness, she’s been like a mother to you. Even an arrogant prick with delusions of godlike abilities must have had a mother at some point.”

  Minerva fished out her keys from her pocket. “Let’s get going. If she says no, it’s back to the drawing board, and I’m already getting frizzy in this hell.”

  As they crossed the Crescent City Connection, the dark of night gave way to a warm, bright afternoon. Polly sat in front of Kendell with her eyes closed and the sunlight beating down on her cheek. “I’d never get used to living in the dark. I love our night gigs, but I need a little sunshine once in a while to keep the bloom on the rose.”

  Minerva took the off-ramp with ease compared to the barreling rollercoaster ride of the last time. The she-wolf and her three hellhound pups, who took up every available lap in the vehicle, reverted back to Cheesecake and her puppies. The animals didn’t seem to notice the change, but they clearly enjoyed the increased pets and snuggles.

  Lynn leaned across the back of the bench seat. “Could Colin even come over here? I’m still confused about this whole no-time experience on that side of the river and why it doesn’t hold true on this side.”

  Kendell looked to Sanguine for an answer.

  “If we build the seven gates correctly, my grandmother will let him pass.” Sanguine said. “This is his hell, so time only moves when he’s learned something important. From reading his notes, he’s already figured that out. He’ll see it as a positive sign if he can cross the bridge.”

  Scraper, in the front passenger seat, still didn’t seem convinced. “And why do we want him to fe
el encouraged? Seems like it would be better if he just accepted his fate and stayed holed up in that tower of his. I like Mary. Having him storm over here doesn’t seem like a way to keep her safe.”

  The magnolias were in full bloom and dropped pink and white petals that covered the road. Kendell tried to get past the beauty and stay focused on the devil across the river. “He has to stay focused on trying to get free, even if we never intend on letting that happen. A door that can be opened is more inviting than a brick wall, but if the door looks more like a bank vault, then the thief will go to work with a sledgehammer on the wall.”

  Sanguine leaned forward. “And when Kendell talks about Colin taking a sledgehammer to his prison walls, she’s referring to mine and her souls. This hell my grandmother created requires living spirits to contain the evil. Once she died, the job fell to me and Kendell. We’re not just on this joyride to hell to mess with Colin.”

  Scraper bobbed her head to the side. “Okay, I can see that. But if that fuckface hurts one gray hair on that sweet lady, I’m coming back and beating him to a pulp.”

  Kendell knew it wasn’t an idle threat. The bass player had no problem putting handsy customers in their place at the club. “I’m sure Mary will be glad to hear it, but remember, she’s not in this dimension. If he crosses the bridge, I’m sure she’ll feel the change in energy. This is her area. She can zap out of this reality as if she were turning off a light switch.”

  The bus slid to a stop on the gravel driveway. Mary came running down the porch steps before they got the doors open. “Oh, thank God the dogs are with you. When Cheesecake took off running, she nearly gave me a heart attack. Then rounding up the puppies was nearly impossible. It was like they’d had some canine paramilitary training.”

  Kendell helped Cheesecake out of the bus. “She knows when I’m in trouble. I guess that now goes for Myles as well. The dogs were quite the attack force.”

  “I’m just glad they, and all of you, are okay. You were gone for a week.”