My peripheral vision caught a dark streak as something moved between tombs down the row from where we were standing. However, when I scanned the area directly I saw nothing. Something was stalking us, playing games, and I knew without a doubt it was the same Bacalou I’d seen at the church. The voice was unmistakable and one which had haunted my nightmares since they’d started stalking me back in autumn.
“Maya…” it called to me again, yet this time it was from behind me.
I spun, ready to send the infernal beast back to whatever hell it had crawled out of. Another shadow darted behind one of the mausoleums down the row, but I didn’t see enough of it to get a solid grasp on what I was working with. Taking a step backwards, I pushed myself flush against Mateo, hoping to cover any vulnerabilities to either of us. I wasn’t sure what Mateo was capable of and I felt responsible for the elderly man’s well-being.
“Maya? We need to get out of here. Now,” Mateo whispered over his shoulder.
Neither of us dared to take our eyes off our surroundings.
The tingle of the Bacalou’s presence was absent, confusing me further. What the hell is going on? What kind of help are they getting? I wondered. They were capable of a good many things, but disguising their dark energy wasn’t one of them. I’d gotten the same feeling every time I’d been in close proximity with one.
“Okay, move towards the gate slowly,” I ordered, holding the cursed container tightly with one hand while I kept the other bandaged hand at the ready.
My gut screamed that we had somehow walked right into a trap. Were they protecting the mausoleum or tracking us? If it was the latter, the Baron knew we were missing and had likely sent his minions to collect us. I pushed the thought from my mind as best as I could. I knew if that was the case, whatever was waiting for us would make me wish I’d died going through the gate.
Keeping my back securely against my companions, we shuffled slowly towards the front gate. How did they get in with wards in place to keep the shit like them out?
“Stop.” I halted my progress and readied myself to make a stand against them. If they got in, it was because they were let in or they had a direct entrance within the cemetery. Either way, leaving the cemetery could prove to be deadly for us. The tall walls surrounding it were too perfect not to set up an ambush. Knowing my capabilities, I was willing to take my chances with the ones within the perimeter. The wards could keep things out, but it could also keep them in.
“What are you doing?” Mateo hissed, grabbing hold of my arm, fully prepared to drag my unwilling body from the premises.
Scanning the rows, I saw one shadow after another darting between tombs. There had to have been at least a dozen of them. We were outnumbered, but that had never stopped me before and I wasn’t about to let it now.
“If we walk out that gate, we don’t have a chance in Guinee of surviving. Look at them all.” I nodded towards the brick wall, hoping he would draw the same conclusion as I had. “There’s a hell of a lot more of them waiting out there. At least, in here, we have a shot with the rest of them outside not being able to join the fray.”
Understanding dawned in his eyes. “What can I do to help?”
I glanced at him. His face was the portrait of sympathy. He’d never seen me in action and I was so fucking sick of these nasty buggers thinking they could screw with me. I was over it and I had weeks of pent up rage I was eager to release on them.
“Have you ever killed a Bacalou before?” I asked, watching the creatures slither closer to us with every pass they made along the rows of vaults.
The mausoleums were so close together it was difficult to get a clear picture of how many of them there were. Shadowy talons raking down the sides of the stone structures and incomprehensible whispers grew louder and I tried to drown out the sounds as Mateo answered me.
“No. I’ve been mostly bound to the confines of the library. It’s been so long since I’ve had to deal with the real world, I’m afraid I won’t be of much use to you, but I’ll do what I can.”
It was not the first time this day I wished I had Rhys and Arlen with me. The pair were a sight to see when they set about their work, dispatching the demon-like creatures. At first, both men had been too macho to consider that I could take care of myself and that I was just as capable as they were. Silly boys.
I handed over the box to Mateo, who was for all intents and purposes going to be sitting this one out.
“Stay close to me and protect the box. I don’t know if that’s what they’re after or not, but my gut’s telling me that we need it.” The shrieks the Bacalou unleashed made the tiny hairs on my neck stand on end and made me take a moment to regroup my thoughts. “Whatever you do, don’t look at their eyes and don’t let them lure you away from me. I can’t protect you if you wander off and I need all my concentration if we are to have any chance at walking out of here alive. Understand?” I finished my explanation about the same time the first one slid out from between the two tombs to my left. I couldn’t hear Mateo’s response, but I was sure he got the message.
Showtime.
What seemed like hundreds of pairs of iridescent, violet eyes watched me back as I stared them down, daring them to come for me. In the excitement of it all, my muscles found that they weren’t sore enough to hinder me in any significant way. They bunched and flexed, releasing tension as they readied my body for battle. I peeked over my shoulder at Mateo, who stood just behind me. He had the container clutched tightly to his chest.
It was precisely that moment, when I lost eye contact with all of them that they decided to charge us. High pitched shrieks surrounded me as the Bacalou moved inhumanely fast. Almost without thinking about it, I began flinging deadly balls of energy at the shadows. Ash from their charred remains rained down over us, but there were so many more of them than I had thought. They had us completely surrounded.
I turned, circling around behind Mateo to protect my partner from their razor sharp talons. Throwing everything I had into it, I shot as many Bacalou as I could, yet it still wasn’t enough. My light balls were a dingy grey color and didn’t appear to be as potent as they had been when I had first used them. I heard Mateo grunt behind me and I spun, protecting his side once again. He was holding his arm with his free hand and still gripping the box tightly. One of the demons had sliced his arm open.
“Brulerez!” I screamed, unleashing a torrent of magic at my adversaries.
The screams and smoke began to overtake my senses. I didn’t know how many I killed, I just knew it wasn’t enough.
The stench of charred beings clogged my nose, making me feel like I was choking on it. Pain wracked the side of my thigh as one of them slipped through the lines. I didn’t even see it coming, nor could I divert my concentration, without condemning us to a painful, horrifying death. I circled back around Mateo, moving a bit slower with the searing sensation within my leg. Mateo wasn’t as spry as he had been either. His movements had slowed and red streaked his cheeks from the gashes they’d inflicted.
I was failing a little bit more with each new injury, unable to keep us safe from their claws. Pressure was slowly building within my chest. This time it didn’t scare me, I knew exactly what was coming. I only had to hold them off a bit longer until the magic completely overtook me.
Their shrieks took on an excited tone and ratcheted up a few volume levels as more of them poured into the cemetery. Where the hell are they coming from? I didn’t wait to ponder the possibilities. Instead I continued my assault against the damned beasts. They were like sharks in a feeding frenzy. The difference between them and me was substantial though. I wasn’t the meek and wounded seal to them that I used to be. I’d become the bigger predator and they were falling for the trap I’d set. I just needed them to stay a little closer than I was comfortable with.
Heat swelled beneath my ribcage as I shot grey orbs one after another and watched their incinerated remains scatter over the newly dead grass. My power pushed and shoved within me v
ying for escape, but it wasn’t to the erupting point yet.
One of the Bacalou slipped through the cracks in my attention to rake its talons down my ribs. He was rewarded for his efforts with a shot to his face. The slices stung and I was sure the damage was significant, though not life threatening. I pushed the pain away to deal with later at a much more convenient time.
The raw tatters of my flesh only served to build my time bomb faster. It was just about time. The pressure was so great that I felt like some kind of Alien baby was about to explode forth from my chest and wreak havoc on the world. My head began to feel like it was floating as the pressure grew and filled every space available. Blackness began to creep in around the edges of my vision as I was on the verge of losing consciousness.
The thickening swarm of Bacalou wailed as they circled me, reaching out to make as much damage as they could muster. They edged closer every second and I was about to run out of time. I spun and pushed my companion behind me once again to face the creatures behind me. I no longer gave any thought to their human-like shape since they were so far from one. Mateo was in rough shape, hobbling as he tried to move out of my way to a safer location.
A claw drew down my scalp and that’s what pushed me over the edge. The power exploded forth from me, and surprisingly, I stayed conscious. An initial blast leveled everything within a few feet of me. My vision blurred, and my thoughts were hazy if not completely absent. From what I could tell, I looked an awful lot like a human torch or more likely the Phoenix from the X-men. Everything within a forty-foot radius was scorched or entirely reduced to rubble. I let it all go, pushing the magic from me to alleviate the discomfort of it being bottled up had caused. The shadows were eviscerated along with everything else as the flow began to wane. I cut myself off before I completely drained myself which could leave me vulnerable to anything for a while afterwards.
My hands burned and my skin sizzled readjusting to the mild winter air. It took a few moments to fully realize what I’d done and the true extent of the damage I’d caused. Chips of rock and cement littered the ground, apparently blown off of the vaults in the melee. I could see buildings past the wall with their windows blown out of their frames. It seemed as though my wrath had far exceeded my immediate proximity. Internally, I prayed that any innocent passersby hadn’t been assaulted by my recklessness. I hadn’t considered the ramifications of my actions and if I’d caused that much damage, I was worried about what I might’ve done to Mateo.
I turned looking for Mateo as ashes and smoke clouded the space around us. He was no longer right behind me.
“Mateo?” I called out, waving my hands in front of my face hoping to clear away the stifling debris so I could find him. I heard a faint cough from a few yards away to my right.
It didn’t sound good. I shuffled forward towards the source of the noise, hearing labored huffs, yet still unable to see through the curtain of haze and smoke. I was getting closer, feeling hopeful that he was okay since he was still breathing. A small break in the dissipating mist and ash, and I glimpsed my target.
Mateo was slumped against the side of a mausoleum, holding his stomach. Blood trickled from a gash near his temple, crusting his sideburns to his face. His jacket was splattered with crimson and black flecks with a dark spot surrounding a tear at his shoulder. He was in bad shape. His free hand still held the box as though his life depended on it. I was a little nervous that it did. Was keeping the box safe what was keeping him tethered to this world?
Falling to my knees beside him, I spoke in low hushed tones to keep him from panicking. “Mateo? How are you feeling?”
The redundancy of my question wasn’t lost on me, but it just felt necessary in the moment. If I kept him talking, he couldn’t slip away on me.
He let out a tiny chuckle, hissing as he inhaled sharply as if the movement of his laugh had caused a substantial amount of discomfort and pain. I needed to get a better look at his injuries and I desperately needed my bag. It had all my herbs and poultices.
I grabbed ahold of him gently and lay him back onto the grass. He grunted and winced, but complied without argument. The head wound was minor, looking much worse than it actually was. I tore back the fabric on his shoulder to witness deep gashes bleeding heavily and marring his alabaster skin. He hadn’t moved his arm from his belly. I knew I would find something much worse than his shoulder if I moved it out of the way. I wasn’t going to risk taking a peak until I had supplies to help. My magic alone would only go so far and could really only help the natural remedies. I was glad we’d had the foresight to plan for any such occurrence.
His bleeding wasn’t slowing down. I needed my bag if he was going to have any chance. Looking around, I made a dark realization.
Shit! I’d left the bag of supplies in the back seat of the car, not even having contemplated the possibility of needing them in a cemetery. Retrieving it would waste precious seconds that he desperately needed, yet the alternative wasn’t even an option.
“Hold on, Mateo! I’ll be right back.” I rushed out, before sprinting in the direction of our parking space. Panting heavily, Rhys’s vehicle came into sight and I charged for the car. Getting closer, I noticed something wasn’t quite right.
The rear door hung slightly ajar with deep scratches marring the dark paint. Supplies and herbs were scattered across the seat and all over the ground just outside the vehicle.
“No! No, no, no, God damn it!”
I scanned the carnage and grabbed up what I needed and stuffed it into the pack. I took a minute or two longer than I had to waste. Stuffing a bandage in to my back pocket and grasping at the handfuls of dried herbs, I turned and bolted back through the cemetery gate. It gave no resistance as I ran through it, having shattered the wards at the peak of my power surge. As soon as he came into sight, I stopped dead in my tracks.
A Bacalou which had somehow been missed in the chaos, sat gingerly on top of the man with its talons buried deep within Mateo’s chest. It let out a triumphant wail and scattered before I could regain my wits and dispose of him in a slow and painful way.
“No!” I screamed and watched it disappear around a corner several rows away.
My feet were rooted to their spots and a thick knot formed in my throat threatening to choke me. Hot tears filled my eyes as I glanced back to Mateo.
His chest quivered as it fought to raggedly rise and fall. He was still alive. There was still a chance to save him. I could do it. I was supposed to be legendarily powerful. I could do just about anything, right? Rushing forward on autopilot, I crumpled to my knees beside his rigid form. Hot tears blurred my vision as I surveyed his rigid form.
“Mateo? You’re going to be okay. Do you hear me? I’m going to get you patched up in no time. Just hang in there a bit longer.”
I dropped my supplies to the ground and spread them around looking for something to stop his bleeding. Crimson was spreading over his shirt and staining his jacket and growing every second it wasn’t staunched.
I glanced up at his face to see his eyes wide and unfocused. Mateo’s chest heaved harshly with thick wet sounds. There were three, deep puncture wounds in his chest near his heart.
I grabbed a handful of the agrimony and oak bark, and moved to press it into his wounds. As the dried material made contact with his torn flesh, the gurgling inhalation stopped and his wide, scared eyes went lax. His pupils grew large and everything else went limp. His blood soaked the ground around him, staining the knees of my pants.
“Mateo?” I nudged him, hoping it would somehow do some good, but his chest no longer moved.
It wasn’t something I was ready to face. He couldn’t be gone, not after everything. Necromancy wasn’t my field. There was essentially nothing more I could do to help him. I couldn’t even manage to kill the Bacalou who’d attacked him to avenge him.
A melting pot of emotions filled me, leaving me stunned and motionless as I processed the events of the previous moments.
The futility of it
all plagued me. I’d fought to protect him and he’d died anyways. What the hell was the point of it all? I wasn’t sure whether I felt angry, heartbroken, guilty, or all the above.
I glanced around the deserted cemetery. Sirens wailed in the distance, yet otherwise, it was silent. Nothing moved and I was completely alone not for the first time since I’d discovered my own dark heritage. That’s what it all boiled down to. Had Marie Laveau made her deal with the Loa to curse me? Had I been condemned to a life of despair and destruction almost two hundred years before my birth? It made me sick to think about.
The sounds of the sirens grew closer and I knew I wouldn’t be alone for long. There was no way I’d be able to explain away what happened. I’d either be slapped into a padded room or a dank jail cell, neither idea being one I relished.
Mateo’s hands still loosely held the box. The thing had fled before it could capture its prize. I scooped it up and stood tall as I stuffed the box into my near empty pack and tied it shut.
Voices filtered to me on the breeze from the other side of the wall. I needed to get out of dodge, yet I couldn’t just leave the man lying there. He deserved better than that, especially after I’d failed him so tremendously. If I got him to the car, I could maybe take him home to Guinee and give him a proper burial. Though, carting a body down Canal Street would garner a great deal more attention than I could afford.
Moving behind him, near his head, I leaned down and grabbed ahold of Mateo under his arms. Lifting him enough to drag him easily, I started to move. Walking backwards as I held the man in my arms. I started to panic as I heard the distinct sound of car doors being slammed. They’d be there any second.
“It would seem you’ve been quite busy, my dear.” The familiar thick creole accent stopped my progress and I froze, knowing fully well who was waiting behind me when I turned around.
The Baron stood tall and proud with a smug and disapproving expression plastered across his dark, handsome face. It was his mask, the one he used to disarm those he wanted to charm into submission. Some women, weaker-minded ones, would swoon over his attentions, but not me. I knew his attentions could only mean misery for me. It was the first time I’d laid eyes on the King of the Dead for several days and as it stood, I had broken a good number of his decrees regarding my conduct.
A Soul's Surrender (The Voodoo Revival Series Book 2) Page 14
