Wicked Betrayal (New England Witch Chronicles Book 3)

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Wicked Betrayal (New England Witch Chronicles Book 3) Page 15

by Chelsea Luna


  “She was a Voodoo priestess in the eighteen hundreds,” James said.

  I glanced at James.

  He shrugged. “I bought a book about New Orleans for the plane ride.”

  “That she was,” Celeste said. “But, what people don’t know was that she was a witch, too. Half blooded, but very powerful and famous all over N’awlins. Her spirit is important to those of us who practice Voodoo.”

  “Did she practice black magic?” I asked.

  Celeste drummed her fingertips against the table. “She wasn’t evil, if that’s what you’re asking, but she toyed a bit here and there in the darker realms. Rich people from all over would visit Marie in her cottage on St. Anne Street in the Quarter. She was so protected by the residents of N’awlins that hunters didn’t go after her. She did all kinds of things for people.”

  “Like what?” Peter asked.

  “Private rituals, exorcisms and sacrifices to the spirits.”

  I swallowed. “Exorcisms?”

  Celeste nodded. “For spirits that wandered into someone else’s body. They make people act crazy.”

  James glanced at me. Red-eyed spirits. It had to be the same thing.

  “Marie Laveau could make spirits leave the person’s body? How? By exorcism?” If there was a way to get a red-eyed spirit out of a body, then I needed to learn it.

  “It’s not like what you see in movies. Not with a priest and a Bible. But with magic. Marie would cast a spell and those spirits would flee. Most witches couldn’t do it, but she had the extra help of Voodoo. I bet you could easily do it, being full to the tip.”

  “How?”

  “Little bit of salt and iron and then she said the incantation. It takes a lot of magic, though.”

  “Salt and iron?” Peter asked.

  “Spirits hate salt and iron. They’re elements fundamental to the Earth. Marie would pour a circle of salt around the person and place a piece of iron on their chest. She’d say the incantation and poof. Spirit’s gone. Hadn’t ever tried it myself - I’m no witch - but I’ve read about it plenty of times.”

  “What about a spirit that’s trapped in an object?” Grandma Claudia’s crushed silver mirror was still in my basement. If there was a way to get rid of that murderous spirit, I do anything in my power to do it.

  “Same.”

  “Same spell?” I asked.

  Celeste nodded. “Same thing. Circle of salt, iron and spell.”

  “Do you know where I can find this spell?”

  “You have a spirit problem?”

  “I have tons of problems.” I smiled weakly.

  Celeste regarded me for a moment. “Your eyes are sparking green. Like the color of a grass snake. But they’re sad. You’ve had a lot of grief in your life.”

  “I’ve had my fair share.”

  Celeste turned to Peter. “See that basket on the top shelf? Fetch it for me, darlin’?”

  Peter walked to the bookcase. He grabbed the wicker basket from the top shelf and handed it to Celeste.

  She rummaged through the basket until she found a dirty envelope. Inside were torn sheets of yellowed paper. She brought each piece close to her glasses until finally she smiled. “There you go.”

  “What’s this?”

  “The spell.”

  I clutched the dirty paper to my chest. “This is the spell that will pull spirits out of people and objects?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “How much do you want for it?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  Celeste placed the basket on the floor. “Nothing. Consider it a gift for being kind to an old woman.”

  It was the first time in a very long time that something had been so simple. Since someone helped us. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  “You see those spirits’ red eyes, don’t you?” Celeste asked.

  “I do,” I said quietly.

  “Did you almost meet your maker? Or do you do Hoodoo?”

  “Hoodoo?”

  “Conjuring spirits,” Celeste said.

  “Oh. A spirit killed my grandmother and I conjured to get some answers.”

  “Now you see the red eyes?”

  “I do.”

  Celeste nodded. “Your grandmother knew about conjuring? She drew the symbol?”

  I glanced at Peter. He was the only other person that saw the intricate symbol of blood drawn on Grandma Claudia’s floorboards.

  “I don’t know how much she knew about conjuring,” I said. “She was killed before I could learn anything from her. But, yes, she drew the symbol on the floor.” I indicated the size of the symbol with my hands. “Lots of shapes and letters and stuff I didn’t recognize. Most of it was in some other language. She drew it in blood.”

  “She was only half witch?”

  “Yes.”

  “She needed the extra power of blood to conjure the spirit.”

  “Is that why my symbol worked without blood? I drew it with a pencil.”

  “Pure bloods are very powerful.”

  James leaned forward. “Ms. Celeste, when we first arrived, you mentioned the name Liam. What do you know about him?”

  I’d been so preoccupied by the story of Marie Laveau and spirits and Voodoo, that I’d forgotten that important piece of information.

  “Liam’s the closest thing on this Earth to the Devil,” Celeste said.

  That about summed him up. I sat back in my chair. I hated talking about Liam, but Celeste was a wealth of information. Maybe she knew something we didn’t.

  “He will come after you,” Celeste said to me. “Liam always gets his full witches.”

  “He’s already paid me a visit,” I said. “Have you met him before?”

  “No, and I thank the Lord above that I haven’t. I’ve heard frightening stories about him. Is he as monstrous as they say?”

  I nodded.

  “Liam was in N’awlins in the 1920’s looking for his mama,” Celeste said. “My granny told me stories about him in a dashing suit, hitting all the parties in the Quarter. Said he was a handsome man. Beautiful blonde hair. Striking green eyes. Charming, but deadly as a rattle snake.”

  “What do you mean Liam was looking for his mom? She was already dead,” I said. “He sacrificed his mother hundreds of years ago.” At least, that was the story according to the Gamma witch hunting pamphlet.

  Celeste smiled. “Of course he did. Liam was looking for her spirit.”

  “What?” We all said in unison.

  “Do ya’ll not know this?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Liam’s first sacrifice was his mother. Usually, he consumes a witch’s soul at the sacrifice and that soul gives him the power to live without fearing a natural death. But Liam didn’t want to lose his mother. So instead of consuming her soul, he trapped her spirit in an object. That way he’d always have his mother with him, but he could still pull from her powers. I’m assuming it wasn’t as effective as consuming the soul, but, nevertheless, that’s what he did. But he lost the object.”

  “In Venice during the Bubonic Plague,” I blurted out. “That’s where the receptacle was stolen from him.”

  Celeste gave me a strange look. “I’m not exactly sure when or where Liam lost his mother’s spirit, but it was a long time ago.”

  “And he’s been searching for it ever since,” James said.

  “For hundreds of years. All over the globe,” Celeste said.

  I squeezed the glass of lemonade. “What’s the object?”

  “That, I don’t know. Not sure anyone does. This is all legend, of course, passed down from parent to child in the supernatural world.”

  I had no doubt it was true. I’d seen it in my dream. But it still didn’t make sense. “Why is his mother’s spirit so important to him? If he loved her so much, then why sacrifice her?”

  “Love is not why he’s searching for the object. It’s fear.”

  “Fear of what?”

  Celeste’s b
right blue eyes locked onto mine. “Balance. His mother’s life started it all. Her spirit gave him the first drops of cheating death. But see, if a pure witch could harness the power of his mother’s spirit -”

  “Then that witch would be as powerful as he is.”

  Celeste nodded.

  I sucked in my breath and blew it out slowly. “And that’s the only way anyone could ever defeat Liam.”

  CHAPTER 23

  “All we have to do is find the object.” Peter strolled out of the hotel bathroom shirtless. “You’ll cast that spell, pull Liam’s mother’s spirit out of the object and into you temporarily. Then you’ll defeat Liam with your bleeding brain trick.”

  “Liam’s been looking for the receptacle for hundreds of years,” I said. “I turn eighteen in seven months.”

  “So what? That’s a ton of time.” Peter pulled a t-shirt over his head. “I don’t know how people live in this heat. This is my third shower of the day.”

  “Liam searched the world.” I tried not to be distracted by Peter’s chest, especially with James in the room. I ran my fingers through my wet hair. “I don’t really have the funds to globetrot.”

  “We know more now than we did before,” James said.

  “A lot more,” Peter said.

  I stretched out on the queen size bed. “True. But we don’t know what the object is. Let alone where to start looking. And even if we did find this elusive object, I’d still have to survive a day or two after my eighteenth birthday to receive all of my powers. That’s highly unlikely. Liam’s going to burn my eyes out as soon as the sun sets on Halloween.”

  “Alex.” James squatted so he was face to face with me. “This is good news. We found a way to defeat Liam.”

  “Lover Boy’s right, Lex,” Peter said. “Quit being a sourpuss.”

  I exhaled. “It is good news. Sorry. I’m nervous about Vanessa.” I scooted off the bed to get my blow dryer out of the now unoccupied bathroom.

  We’d returned from the bayou a few hours ago and they were amped up by the latest bit of information. The boys were staying in my room with me. They hadn’t thought enough ahead to book their own rooms and the hotel was full. I didn’t mind - minus the messy bathroom. Now that Peter and James were in New Orleans, I wanted them close by.

  Peter made a face at James. “You put gel in your hair?”

  James turned away from the mirror. “Let me know when you’re done parading around half naked.”

  “Do you blow dry it, too? Lex, let James use that thing first.”

  A knock sounded at the door.

  My heart skipped a beat. I wasn’t expecting anyone. Could it be a hunter? But why would a hunter knock? I tip-toed to the door.

  Peter’s hands went around my waist. He lifted me off the ground and placed me in the back of the room near the balcony.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Moving you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want you to hurt the room service guy.” Peter opened the door with a grin.

  “You could’ve told us, idiot,” James said.

  A young woman pushed a rolling cart into the room. On top were five trays of covered dishes. “Room service for room three-ten?”

  “That’s us,” Peter said.

  The woman locked in on Peter. She didn’t take her eyes off him. She might have even drooled on her uniform. What would she have done if he were shirtless?

  “Thank you.” Peter signed the receipt.

  “What did you order? I’m starving.” James lifted a covered dish.

  “Pretty much everything.”

  The woman reluctantly looked away from Peter. Her eyes widened at James. It was like watching a kid in a candy store. She spared me a glance, but her focus returned to the boys.

  “Lex, do you want a Po’Boy sandwich?”

  “Sure.” I walked to the door and opened it. “Ahem.”

  The girl stared at Peter and James.

  “Ahem,” I said a little louder.

  “Sorry.” She lowered her head and walked out of the room.

  “Here, Lex, eat. It’s been a long day.” Peter placed a tray of food and a bottled water on the bed.

  “Thanks.” I nibbled on a pickle. “What’s the plan for tonight?”

  “I think we should follow Vanessa,” James said.

  Peter swallowed. “All of us. We need to know what we’re up against.”

  “Maybe she’s not into Voodoo,” I said.

  “But what if she is?” James said.

  Peter nodded with his mouthful and pointed at James.

  “Okay fine, when do we start Operation Spy-On-My-Aunt?” The shrimp Po’Boy sandwich was delicious.

  “Tonight? It’s only seven o’clock,” Peter said. “Is Vanessa home? Or do you think she’s working at the hospital?”

  I shrugged. “There’s only one way to find out.” I called Vanessa’s home phone. It rang and rang. “No answer.”

  “She could be at dinner or working,” James said.

  “Probably working,” I said. “She’s a doctor.”

  “Then let’s make a trip to the hospital,” Peter said.

  * * *

  The Tulane Medical Center was enormous. It was literally a zoo. People were coming and going. Ambulances sped in and out of the driveway. The hospital operator informed us that Dr. Vanessa Ross was busy. We could leave a message, unless, of course, this was an emergency. That was all I needed to know - confirmation that she was here.

  We sat on a park bench across from the hospital’s parking lot (so much for a stealthy stakeout). I had no idea how we were going to find Vanessa. No one wanted to admit that we hadn’t planned properly. Now, it was dark and we were out of ideas.

  Peter jumped from the bench. “Do you know what kind of car Vanessa drives?”

  “No.”

  He scrolled through his cell phone.

  “Who are you calling?” I asked.

  Peter put his finger up. “Hi, Emma. Yup, we’re fine. No problems at all. I had a quick question. Do you know what kind of car Vanessa has? Perfect. Lex will call you tomorrow. Tell my mom and Anne Marie I said hello. Thanks. Bye.”

  “What did she say?” James asked.

  Peter tossed the phone into the air and caught it. “Grandma Claudia told Emma last summer that Vanessa bought a brand new Audi A8. Candy apple red.”

  “But if we wait in the parking lot for Vanessa to leave, we’ll have no way of following her,” James said. “We don’t have a car.”

  “Lex knows where Vanessa lives, right?”

  “Yeah, I have the address. She has two places,” I said. “A condo in the French Quarter and she’s renovating an old plantation outside of the city.”

  “Let’s camp outside her condo until she gets home.”

  We rode the streetcar back to the French Quarter and found a pub with outdoor seating across the street from Vanessa’s condo. We didn’t have anything to do but wait, so we ordered food and ate dinner.

  Hours passed with no sign of Vanessa. I was about to suggest we call it a night when Peter slid down in his seat.

  “There she is,” Peter said.

  Vanessa was coming out of her condo. We’d completely missed her driving home. Probably because we were too busy talking to pay attention. Recon with James and Peter was such a bad idea.

  “I don’t think she can see us, dude,” James said.

  I bit down hard on my tongue to keep the anger at bay. I knew seeing Vanessa would be difficult. All I could think about was how she’d stolen seventeen years of my dad’s life.

  Vanessa walked down the steps of her building. She had on a black skirt, a blue low cut shirt and high heels.

  “Let’s go before we lose her.” Peter raced from the table.

  James and I scrambled to catch up with him.

  I tugged his arm from behind. “We have to keep our distance. She knows what we look like, remember?”

  “She doesn’t know wh
at I look like,” James said.

  Vanessa made a right at the corner. It was midnight and the street was packed with bar hoppers. Thank goodness this part of the French Quarter was an outdoor party. We quickened our pace, slithering in and out of the crowd.

  Peter grabbed my hand. “Stay close.”

  We turned the corner. Vanessa was three blocks ahead. I was surprised by how quickly the neighborhood turned sketchy. We went from party central to a ghost town. The sidewalk was cracked and weeds grew in the open pavement. We passed an abandoned parking lot enclosed by a chain link fence.

  Litter and broken beer bottles were everywhere. Vanessa’s wavy blonde hair reflected off the orange street lamps. She crossed the empty street and walked down an alley.

  “Quick!” James jogged across the street.

  We had three blocks to make up before we lost her.

  James stopped short at the corner. Trash filled the pavement. I didn’t like the looks of it. It reminded me of last fall when I was attacked by two thugs in an abandoned alley.

  James cursed. “Where’d she go?”

  She wasn’t down the block. And she didn’t vanish into thin air, but I had no idea where Vanessa went. I had a paranoid feeling she was about to jump out at us.

  “Wait,” Peter said. “Do you hear that?”

  “I only hear the highway,” I said.

  James tilted his head. “No, I hear it, too. Where is that coming from?” He walked down the alley.

  As we descended into the heart of the alley, I heard it. Muffled music. James disappeared behind a green dumpster.

  “James?”

  He poked his head out. “There’s a door here. I think it’s a club.”

  “She was dressed to go out,” Peter said. “But what type of club is it? There’s no sign.”

  “I bet she’s inside,” James said.

  The pounding of heavy metal music vibrated the door. A party of some sorts was going on inside. Before I could decide what to do, the door swung open.

  Two guys and a girl stumbled out of the building. All three dressed in black. The girl had on fishnet stockings and combat boots. Her hair was in two buns, Princess Leia style. The boys were grungy and covered in tattoos.

 

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