The Malveaux Curse Mysteries Boxset 2

by G A Chase

  Voodoo You Think You Are Blurb

  Kendell Summer is finally settled into her new French Quarter apartment with her boyfriend, Myles, and their two pups, Cheesecake and Doughnut Hole. Life would be perfect if it weren’t for the swamp witch Sanguine, who is still lying comatose—after losing her soul—on their new couch like Sleeping Beauty.

  With no idea how to help her sleeping friend, Kendell carries on with her nightly gigs as lead guitarist for Polly Urethane and the Strippers. But when each one of her bandmates slumps to the stage floor, exhausted, due to a lingering connection to Sanguine’s missing soul, Myles realizes the swamp witch is sapping them dry.

  With the band in danger, it’s a race against the clock while Kendell and Myles work to find and restore the swamp witch’s spirit. To Kendell’s consternation, however, Sanguine doesn’t want to be rescued. As hell’s angel, Sanguine is busy dealing with the devil they’ve all had a hand in creating.

  One thing is clear: someone had better do something soon because Colin has amassed enough power to blast his way out of hell and rejoin the land of the living.

  ***

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  19

  Kendell Summer set her jet-black electric guitar back in its onstage stand. The simple act transformed her from her onstage persona of Olympia Stain, lead guitarist for Polly Urethane and the Strippers, back to the person she normally was.

  “My fingers hurt like I haven’t played in a month.” It had been two weeks since she, the band, and her boyfriend, Myles, had returned from hell, but playing before a live crowd still made her attack her guitar with so much vigor she shredded the strings.

  She turned away from the crowd, wondering why none of her bandmates had responded to her whining. The lingering humidity of early fall, combined with the smell of endorphins and sweat from the crowd, would dim anyone’s lights, but from the way the women huddled on the stage speakers, Kendell feared their silence wasn’t due simply to exhaustion.

  “What’s wrong with you guys?”

  Their drummer, Minerva Wax, lifted her hand. Her quivering fingers didn’t look capable of grasping a drumstick, let alone hammering out the blues-punk standards. “I feel like I’m having a fucking heart attack.”

  Scraper, their bass player, didn’t look much better. “We played hard, no doubt, but I’m with Minerva. There’s something wrong with me.”

  Lynn Seed was usually the spunky pick-me-up when everyone else was down, but she only stared at her shaking fingers. “I barely made it through that last number. I was certain the keyboard was shifting around like an earthquake was happening.”

  “This is stupid.” In defiance of the band’s exhaustion, Polly tried to stand up. She slumped to the ground at Lynn’s feet.

  Kendell jumped offstage and ran to the bar, where Myles was opening a couple of beers for some inebriated customers. “Can Charlie take over for a minute? I need you.” She hoped her tone wouldn’t alarm any of the club’s patrons.

  From the look on Myles’s face, she could tell that he got her subtle message of concern. “Of course.”

  As he came out from behind the bar, she took his hand and rushed him to the stage. “I’d say it was food poisoning, but we all ate from the same Lucky Dog cart.”

  He didn’t bother asking how they felt. “Let’s get you women out back for a little fresh air.”

  Anyone listening in would assume that was all they needed. Lynn and Polly leaned on his shoulders as he guided them out the back door to the courtyard. Minerva and Scraper fared slightly better, relying on each other for support.

  Kendell hopped back onstage and grabbed the microphone. “We’re going to take a little break. Hang around for the Mutants at Table Nine, who’ll take the stage shortly.”

  By the time she joined up with the band, Myles had already fetched some rum from his hidden speakeasy to help calm the women.

  “What do you think is happening?” Kendell asked.

  He motioned her toward a metal chair. “Their problem isn’t physical. I can feel it too, but the energy flow isn’t draining me. I’m just the conduit.”

  The cool night breeze that chilled Kendell’s sweat-covered skin was like a ghost tapping her on the shoulder. “You don’t mean Sanguine?” Though Sanguine’s body lie in repose on their couch, her spirit had yet to be found.

  Myles had only been psychically connected to the band members once while in hell. Funneling their combined spiritual energy into Sanguine had given the young swamp witch the power to lure Colin’s demonic animals away from Kendell.

  Polly set her empty glass on the table. “We were only bonded to her for a short time—not long enough for me to feel drained. But now that you mention it, I’ve been a little out of sorts since we got home.”

  The other women nodded. The trip to hell to confront Colin Malveaux in his realm without time had affected everyone’s sleep habits. Even Cheesecake and her puppy Doughnut Hole had only been able to get three hours of continuous sleep. Each night, they got up and stalked the apartment like sentries convinced of an intruder.

  “Are you sure it’s not just fatigue?” Kendell asked.

  Myles pulled his chair closer to the table. “There’s one way to find out. If I connect to you all the way I did in hell, I might be able to detect what’s happening in your souls.”

  Though she trusted him with more than just her life, Kendell hated the idea of him connecting his soul to anyone but her. “But you can’t contact Sanguine. We already tried. If she’s trapped in hell with Colin, she’ll be isolated from all other human spirits.”

  Lynn twirled her glass on the table like a little child about to annoy her mother. “We could take a peek.”

  If they hadn’t brought Sanguine’s comatose body out of hell, Kendell would have been perfectly happy to ignore the seven gates they’d created connecting hell to life. The likelihood that her friend was trapped in the hell created by Sanguine’s grandmother, however, had Kendell wondering if she’d ever be free of the Malveaux curse that had started her voodoo journey.

  “You guys guard the second gate in there onstage, Myles the fifth gate back here at the speakeasy, and I watch over the seventh gate at Scratch and Sniff,” Kendell said. “Unless Colin or Sanguine happen to be passing by one of those locations, I’m not sure what good it would do to open ourselves to hell’s nightmares.”

  Scraper reached for the bottle of rum and refilled her glass. “We have to do something. I barely made it through the gig tonight. If Sanguine is sapping our souls, someone’s going to have to tell her to knock it off. If it’s not her, then we all need some kind of voodoo NyQuil.”

  It was a testament to how tired the band was that Scraper’s comment didn’t set off a round of bad jokes.

  Myles refilled his glass with slow deliberation. His precise movements were a sure indication he was about to say something Kendell wasn’t going to like. “You shouldn’t use the seventh gate as a window into hell. You’re too connected to Colin. Even with your power over the curse isolated in the golden pick we left in hell, I worry that he’ll detect you somehow. I’m still freaked out about how he was able to access our ceremony that formed the gates.”

  Though Kendell didn’t like being told what to do or what not to do, he had a point. Seeing Colin’s smug face while the guardians of the seven gates united their souls to watch over him left her with the uneasy suspicion that hell wasn’t as secure as it should be. And without Sanguine, Kendell was solely in charge.

  “So you check on your gate and the band checks on theirs while I twiddle my thumbs?” she asked.

  “It’s a start, and relative to my other ideas, it’s the least likely to suck us all into another interdimensional escapade.”

 
She hated admitting he was right, but she hated even more the idea of him taking on a risk without her. “Take Doughnut Hole with you. Polly can bring Muffin Top, and Lynn can bring Cupcake. At least with hell’s puppies, I’ll feel like you’re being protected.”

  Scraper held her head like a drunk feeling the alcohol wear off. “I can’t handle digging into Colin’s activities tonight. I need a few hours of sleep, though I doubt it’ll help. I suggest we reconvene first thing in the morning.”

  * * *

  Myles walked with Kendell back to their apartment while enjoying the serenade of multiple jazz clubs hosting late-night gigs along Frenchmen Street. When the music switched to ’80s covers, indicating they’d returned to the Quarter, he knew they were close to home.

  “I really love the place you picked out. It’s such a nice walk from the Scratchy Dog. Too bad we haven’t been able to spend more time here.”

  She hugged his arm tightly to her body. “Though I am worried about the girls, walking with you through the city at night is one of my favorite parts of the day. I get you all to myself.”

  He kissed her wavy black hair. “We do seem to get pulled into hell’s dramas quite frequently.”

  She looked up at him. Her dark-brown eyes made his heart beat just a little faster. “I don’t just mean the paranormal aspect of our relationship. You know how much I love our dogs, but we need more time for only the two of us.”

  “I never thought I’d hear you put me ahead of Cheesecake.”

  She snuggled her head back against his shoulder. “I don’t see love as a competition.”

  “I guess I’m not very good at being romantic.”

  Kendell stopped walking and pulled him into her arms. “I’ve had my fair share of passionate boyfriends. Romance is like the first scent of a freshly cut rose—magical and enticing. Being partners is closer to tending a garden. It’s dirty and sweaty—and not always fun. A cut flower is a lovely gesture, but it will wither away. Taking care of plants, however, proves to be a new experience each time you enter the garden. Boyfriends have always been short term for me, but you’ve got me stuck to you forever.” She hugged him tightly, and he wondered where she found the strength after the long night of playing onstage.

  “Maybe the dogs should sleep in the living room tonight.”

  * * *

  Myles was up early the next morning. The night of passion proved more invigorating than tiring for him. He snuck out of the bed, hoping not to disturb Kendell. The way she cuddled the oversized pillow to her face made him wish they could turn their backs on hell. The devil didn’t have the right to even be tempted by such an angelic face.

  She’d endured so much to save him, the band—everyone really—from the curse they’d stumbled into. Though Kendell wouldn’t admit it, Baron Malveaux—who’d joined spirits with Lincoln Laroque to become Colin Malveaux—not so secretly had a crush on her. Now that Colin considered himself the devil, hell was the last place Myles wanted Kendell spying into.

  After he finished his coffee, he picked up the small black Lhasa apso puppy and looked at the older dog on the ottoman. “It’s okay, girl. I’m just taking my buddy on a little walk. Keep an eye on Kendell for me.”

  Cheesecake lifted her head from her paws. Now that the other two pups had found their homes with Polly and Lynn, the old girl was less protective of her remaining puppy.

  Kendell emerged from the bedroom, wearing a nightshirt so short he considered putting off his meeting with the band. “We’ll be fine. I promise not to cast any voodoo spells while you and the girls peer into hell.”

  He wondered if it was worth having her attempt to contact the baron Malveaux’s family. As guardians of the third and fourth gates, they would be more likely to understand what Colin was up to, though even he wasn’t sure how to reach them. Miss Fleur had died over a hundred years ago in Our Lady of Mercy convent, and her two children were also ghosts from the past.

  “I won’t be long,” he said. “Aren’t you supposed to go see Mary across the river?”

  “You don’t think she could contact her alternate-reality self, do you?” Kendell had an expression of concentration as if she were trying to work out a trigonometry equation in her head.

  “She claimed to be a seer. Even with all we’ve been through, I’m not sure what that means. Clearly, she wasn’t talking about knowing the future. I still find it confusing how her alternate self could understand our lives from her dimension. Since the Mary we know across the river is the only one you can talk to, I can’t see how she’d be of any help, but that alternate version of her does watch over the first gate.”

  Kendell brushed by him as she headed to the kitchen. “It will give me and Cheesecake something to do, and if she can access that alternate reality, maybe her alternate self can keep an eye on you. Good luck with the band.”

  Out on the street, he suspected having a small dog walking at his side didn’t improve his manliness, but the way Doughnut Hole swaggered along the sidewalk as though he owned the whole French Quarter made Myles proud to be the pup’s escort. “You still see yourself as that hellhound who would take on any demon, don’t you? Well, I guess you’ve earned that right.”

  After spending a month in hell with only the gang of women and the devil, Myles found it hard not to be distracted by every passing face. He couldn’t shake the constant feeling that with just a little psychological push, he could get to know anyone down to his or her most personal detail.

  At the front door of the club, he looked down at Doughnut Hole to avoid making any more eye contact than was necessary. He fished the key to the front door out of his pocket.

  “Hey there, mister business owner.”

  Myles turned to the street and saw Charlie leaning out the driver’s side of his beat-up truck.

  “Knock that off. You here for a delivery?”

  Charlie got out, which made the truck’s suspension squeak. “Feel like giving me a hand?”

  Some habits were hard to break. “You’re the boss.”

  “Bullshit. I know Kendell finally got you to add your name to the deed. Besides, I may manage the bar, but you stopped being junior to me the minute we quit the club on Bourbon Street.”

  Myles pushed open the door made of weathered wood and glass. He still wasn’t sure Papa Ghede’s gift of the establishment wasn’t just some supernatural joke. “She said either I sign my name or she’d tear up the deed. I couldn’t risk a war with the afterlife. Honestly, this place feels more like a clubhouse than a business. And you know we’d be lost without you.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Save it for my bonus. What brings you here so early in the morning? Or do I even want to ask?”

  Charlie was one of the few people who, though not directly associated with the paranormal adventures, was always there to help. “I need to check in on that parallel dimension. The band should be along shortly to do the same.”

  “Naturally.” Charlie set the case of Captain Morgan on the bar as casually as if Myles was talking about a burned-out light bulb that needed replacing.

  Myles took the piece of chalk used for listing the drink specials and drew the veve Kendell had created for the second gate on the stage. “Things might get a little paranormal around here.”

  “Don’t they always?” Charlie grabbed a bottle of rum out of the case. “You need something for your hideaway?”

  “Not this time. Besides, the loas aren’t fans of the cheap stuff.”

  “Tourists aren’t picky, but you might have a point. Who do I talk to about stocking some expensive liquor for our supernatural VIPs?”

  Myles couldn’t give a damn about the business’s finances, and he knew neither would Kendell. “We put you in charge for a reason. Do what you think is best for the club. When the band gets here, let them know I’m out back.”

  Doughnut Hole had already found a sunny spot in the courtyard, but when he saw Myles, he jumped up as though he’d been called to attention.

  “It’s okay, boy. I�
�m not planning on needing your hellhound protection.”

  But seeing the little dude made Myles put off his chore for the moment. With no one around to judge his childlike behavior, he got down on the brick-covered ground and rolled around with the puppy.

  “Our fearless leader,” said a familiar voice.

  He didn’t know how long Polly and the band had been standing in the doorway, laughing at him. He got up and tried to look dignified. “Well, if some people would be on time… screw it. I’d play with my puppy all day. I don’t even care if that makes me less masculine.”

  Lynn was the first to get on the ground to join Cupcake in greeting Doughnut Hole. “I don’t think there’s anything sexier than a guy who’s not afraid to show his love for dogs. Besides, we’re practically your sisters. You don’t have to play the macho male with us.”

  Polly drew the fifth veve on the bar with the chalk Myles had tossed onto it. “So how do we do this thing? I know Baron Samedi said we could use the gates to look in on hell, but he seemed to be a little short on details.”

  Myles jumped over the counter and pulled out a bottle of absinthe and one of cognac. “Find the guitar pick that Kendell offered as tribute should Colin pass your test. I offered a Sazerac. Put the tribute on the veve. From there, your guess is as good as mine.”

  Myles seldom had time to make fancy drinks at the bar. Rum and Coke was about as complicated as it got most nights. He pulled out the chilled old-fashioned glass and rinsed the inside with absinthe. By the time he had the remaining ingredients ready to be strained into the prepared glass, the women in the next room had stopped talking—a sure sign they were accessing their gate to hell.

  Doughnut Hole sat at attention on the other side of the bar, wagging his tail like an expectant customer.

  “This isn’t for you, boy.” Myles set the prepared drink on the middle of the veve. To re-create the gate, he focused on the memory of being in hell and sitting at the speakeasy while Kendell performed her magic. As it came into existence, instead of the calm night he remembered, rain was cascading down the four roofs into the courtyard. Protected by the shutters, he felt as if he were serving the drink from under a waterfall. Doughnut Hole remained where he was, completely dry and still wagging his tail.