Voodoo Unleashed

by J. N. Colon

  My grandmother silenced her with one look. “Let’s all go to the kitchen. It’s less stuffy.”

  Oh yeah, like being in fresher air was going to make this nightmare better.

  The lights flickered wildly as we entered the kitchen. I pointed to the ceiling. “This is me, isn’t it?”

  My grandmother gave a curt nod, shattering my last shard of hope.

  The whole town of Carrefour didn’t need rewiring, after all. It was just me. The bruja. The Spanish witch.

  I regarded my mother. “And you’re a witch, too?”

  She shook her head, her fingers trembling as she twisted her wedding band around. “Just your father.”

  “We’re only half witches?” That was something.

  “It doesn’t work that way, niña,” Abuela said. “You’re a witch, and that’s that.”

  Great. Way to rain on my parade.

  “Let me warm us up some food.” Abuela grabbed a massive bowl of rice from the fridge, placing it on the counter.

  I was not in the mood to pacify her. “I don’t want to eat.”

  “Just let me warm it up and—”

  Her words were cut off as a jolt of energy surged through me and hit the bowl, tossing it into the air.

  Moments before it hit the ground, energy flooded the room.

  “Sispann.” Etie was beside me, holding his hand out as the food and bowl hung midair. “Ranvèse.” It quickly traveled backward in its trajectory, the bowl landing neatly on the counter. Not one single grain of rice fell to the floor.

  A gasp tumbled out of Marisol, her eyes wide on Etie. “Oh, my gawd.” She clutched the crescent necklace between her fingers. “It’s true. You’re like some voodoo wizard guy.”

  Etie gave a noncommittal shrug.

  Neither my mother nor Abuela was the least bit surprised by Etie’s show of magic.

  Marisol leaned against the counter as if her knees threatened to give out. She swallowed hard and looked at our grandmother. “Somebody want to tell us what the hell is going on? And for once, I don’t want a thing to eat.”

  “I’m going to need a drink for this,” my mother mumbled, grabbing a bottle of vodka from the cabinet.

  Oh great. It must be bad if she resorted to straight-up liquor.

  Marisol and I traded glances, both thinking the same thing.

  Abuela came around the counter and sat on a stool, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “Your father was a very powerful brujo. He became the coven leader of our region in Virginia.” She motioned a hand around the kitchen. “This house has been in our family for generations. Because the entire town is a crossroads itself, it drew us here long ago.”

  My stomach rolled as the lies they told disintegrated into ash, disappearing on a summer wind. A shiver rippled down my spine, and Etie moved closer. His arm brushed mine, creating sparks between us.

  I had always assumed the pops of electricity when we touched came from Etie. Now I wondered if it was me. Or us both.

  “If we came from such a powerful line of witches, why are we just now finding out about it?” Marisol asked, reaching for the bottle of vodka. My mother didn’t stop her.

  Abuela’s eyes flicked toward me. “Because of what Evangeline is.”

  A lump of coal grew in my chest, gluing my feet to the tiles. “I’m a witch just like Marisol. No different.” I sought out my mother.

  Her gaze averted to the ground. “No, Angel. You are very different.”

  “We all have our specialties, but your power is beyond that.” Abuela’s fingers rubbed her forehead. “It’s been in our family for a long time. The last person to possess this was my grandmother, your father’s great-grandmother.”

  I shifted anxiously on my feet as the air in the room thinned. “What power?”

  Abuela’s chest rose and fell as she took several deep breaths. “You are a conduit.”

  Etie stiffened beside me. “A conduit?”

  My grandmother nodded. “Her kind is known in every sect of magic, voodoo included.” She swallowed hard as if speaking about the very thing pained her. “A conduit is a witch that can soak in power and concentrate it. It’s very sought after in good and bad magic because it can magnify others’ abilities.” She paused. “A conduit can also steal power permanently.”

  Etie cursed. His lids shut, the dark lashes fanning across his cheeks. “That spell led me to you.” He shook his head scrubbing his face with his hands. “There was never a bokal. It was you the whole time.”

  I fought hard to keep my knees from buckling. I was the thing Etie wanted to use to take his powers away?

  “Again,” Marisol interrupted. “Why are we just now hearing about this?”

  “Like I said, Evangeline’s power is very sought after. Once she turned four, we realized what she was and what could happen. Cristóbal was afraid outside forces would use her and destroy her.” Abuela stood and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, twisting it in her hands while she stared at the closed door. “He decided to bind both your powers. It’s why we moved to this house. It has powerful magic to help hide Evangeline from those who would use her.”

  That was why they sheltered me so much. That was why Marisol could go off to college, and I wasn’t even allowed to visit Spain for a few weeks with my friends.

  The bind that Dumarsais couldn’t get past had nothing to do with Baron Samedi. It was what kept the magical world from knowing what I was. My family had put it there. Not the voodoo king.

  The lights flickered again, and Etie’s hand caressed mine.

  “Angeline, it’s okay.”

  I turned toward him, studying his face. He was a pouvior bokor, one of the most powerful things in voodoo. He should have put the pieces together. How could he not have known?

  Unless he did.

  “Did you know?” My voice was barely audible, but his wince told me he heard it loud and clear.

  “Angeline…”

  “Did. You. Know?” I gritted out, betrayal already sinking through my bones.

  Chapter 28

  My gaze remained fixed on Etie as my body shook, not from fear or terror, but from pain. Even he kept what I was a secret. Was there a single soul in this world that hadn’t lied to me?

  Etie ran his fingers through his hair. “I knew something was different about you. I sensed more magic the more time we spent together.”

  My nostrils flared as erratic heat burned deep inside. “How could you not tell me?”

  His jaw ticked. “How was I supposed to tell you when I didn’t know what you were?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you could have said, ‘Hey, Angel, I don’t know what you are, but I’m definitely feeling some magic vibes from you. Maybe you should ask your family.’ Or something along those lines.”

  “I was trying to protect you!” A couple of French words rolled off his tongue before he caught himself. He took a deep, shuddering breath and unfurled his fists. “I was going to tell you, but I figured we get through the biggest problem first.” He reached out to touch me but dropped his hand when I shifted away. “I wanted to wait until after your birthday.”

  My mother scoffed and pointed at Etie with her glass, already buzzed. “None of this would be happening if you’d just stayed away from my daughter.” She downed another gulp. “The more time you two spent together, the more her powers began to break through the bind.” She shook her head. “Now there’s barely anything holding them back all thanks to the little voodoo prince.”

  “Mom,” Marisol hissed. “Cállate la boca. Shut your mouth. You’re getting drunk.”

  “Yes, Erica. Please hush.” Abuela placed her sweating water bottle on the counter.

  My mom tossed her free hand in the air, ignoring their pleas. “You still haven’t explained why you would get her a job with him of all people.”

  “Because Evangeline’s conduit powers aren’t the only danger she’s facing.” My grandmother’s dark eyes zeroed in on me, wise and knowing. “Isn’t that ri
ght? Tell them what you did when you were ten.”

  My face paled, and I gripped the counter to keep from hitting the ground. “H-How did you know?”

  She clucked her teeth. “I may be out of practice, niña, but I’m a seer. I see what others can’t.”

  Marisol’s jaw dropped. “I knew you had eyes in the back of your head.”

  My mother sobered. “What is going on, Angel?”

  “We’re not the only ones keeping secrets.” Abuela waved a hand for me to explain.

  I swallowed back the acid oozing up my esophagus. “I traded my soul to the voodoo king to save Marisol’s life. I have until my eighteenth birthday.”

  My grandmother wasn’t the only one who could rip off a bandaid.

  Silence stretched through the kitchen for several seconds until the words finally hit my mother.

  Glass shattered as she dropped her cup. “You didn’t.”

  “Oh, she did,” Abuela answered for me.

  Marisol held her hands up. “Wait a minute? The only reason I came out of that coma was because Angel traded her soul?”

  “Yes,” I admitted.

  “Wow, Flaca.” She stared at me, slack-jawed and frozen.

  This was the first time Marisol had been rendered speechless. And maybe the first time she saw me as more than just her shy, sheltered little sister.

  “That’s incredible.” Tears prickled in her eyes, and her bottom lip snagged between her teeth to mask the quivering.

  Leave it to Marisol to look gorgeous when she cried.

  “Marisol, baby, I love you, but I’d like to know what Étienne Benoit has to do with this.” My mom pushed the bottle of vodka to the other side of the counter, done with drinking her troubles away. This wasn’t something alcohol could fix.

  “So would I,” Etie said, his hard glare fixed on my grandmother.

  “I got Angel the job with Étienne because I knew he was the only one that could help her.” She motioned a hand toward him. “You’re a pouvior bokor. You’re her only chance.”

  He shook his head. “But how did you know I’d help her? I try to stay away from the kind of voodoo I’ve been drowning in for the past few weeks.”

  She clucked her teeth. “Evangeline would convince you. I saw it.” She tapped her temple. “You would protect her. You two just needed some time together.”

  My stomach took a nosedive, and the kitchen spun in dizzying circles. My grandmother had manipulated us into each other’s lives. She pushed us together and made me stir up painful memories for Etie.

  “You bound Angeline’s powers, and you made me use mine?” Etie’s voice had grown cold and sharp as a blade.

  “I had no other choice.” She lifted her head proudly, completely unapologetic.

  His fist slammed on the counter, rattling a bowl of apples. “You could have asked me! You don’t want Angeline used for her powers, but it is okay to use mine?”

  “If I’d simply asked, you wouldn’t have cared enough.” She pushed back an apple teetering on the edge of the bowl. “You needed to know Evangeline. You needed to feel for her enough to sacrifice your own happiness.”

  My throat convulsed, and tears prickled in my eyes. Oh god. This was all a giant setup. Etie and I had been tricked into feeling something for each other. How humiliating.

  Unable to stand one more second in the same room as my grandmother, I spun around and marched out of the glass French doors.

  “Angel!” my mother called.

  Etie followed me, his feet quickly eating up the ground. “Angeline, wait!”

  I halted and faced him. “Just leave me alone, Etie.”

  “That’s not a good idea,” he growled.

  “I was lied to my entire life! I was hidden away from the world because my family was scared.” I shoved his chest. “Even you were a lie.”

  He didn’t even deny it.

  Instead, he gripped my arms and yanked me closer. “You aren’t the only one who was manipulated.” His nostrils flared wildly, and the air around him crackled. His powers were barely contained. Not a good sign. “This is exactly the kind of thing my father would do.”

  He was right. The betrayal was written all over his face.

  Etie may have kept the unexplained things he sensed in me a secret, but my grandmother used him for his power. She hurt him to help me.

  I wasn’t sure it could ever be forgiven.

  “I’m sorry you’re caught in the middle of this.” I rapidly blinked the tears trying to break free. I didn’t want him to see the pain slicing through my heart knowing what we had was one big setup. One big lie. “I just need some space right now.” I jerked my chin toward my house. “Away from them.”

  His fingers tightened on my arms. “Your birthday is tomorrow, Angeline. We don’t have much time.”

  “We have until 5 PM tomorrow to do the spell, if you’re still willing.” I yanked out of his grasp and took off before he could admit he’d changed his mind. I wouldn’t blame him for not wanting to pay the price.

  Tears turned my father’s headstone watery. The moment they slid down my cheeks, more replaced them. “How could you do this to me?” My trembling voice fell on deaf ears. My father certainly wasn’t listening. Even if he was, I didn’t want to hear his bullshit answer.

  I was so angry with him. He’d taken away not only my powers but also my choice and my freedom. If I’d never made a deal with the baron, I’d never know. I’d spend the rest of my life on this short leash, confined to Carrefour, Louisiana.

  My palms slapped the ground and shockwaves of energy surged around me. “How could you!”

  Sobs racked my body, loud and uncontrollable. My world was falling apart around me, and the one person I was counting on turned out to be a lie. It wasn’t Etie’s fault, but how could I expect him to feel the same way now that he knew we’d been manipulated into each other’s lives?

  The voodoo caster’s image materialized in my mind. Deep brown strands of wild hair framed those hypnotic, mismatched eyes that intimidated me at first. Now they made me breathless. His crooked smile sent flutters deep in my belly, and that heady, herbal scent was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. Neither were his hot, searing kisses.

  Maybe I had fallen for Etie. Too bad he probably hated my family and possibly me for making his fight with the voodoo balance inside even harder.

  “I should have known something was up,” I whispered, shaking my head. “It was too much of a coincidence meeting Etie just when I needed him.”

  “Ah, most things in life aren’t by chance.”

  My head snapped around at the familiar, ominous voice of Baron Samedi. His words curled along my flesh like writhing snakes.

  I scrambled away from the dangerous voodoo loa. My knees shook as I stood. “What do you want?”

  A slow, sinister smile twisted his lips. “Times up, Eve-angel-ine.”

  I scoffed. “You should check your evil villain clock. My birthday isn’t until 5 PM tomorrow.”

  Church bells sounded, signaling the midnight hour. Each heavy stroke slammed against my skull. And with each one, the baron’s smile grew.

  Ice slithered through my veins. I didn’t like the glee in those onyx eyes.

  The baron held up a finger once the chiming stopped. “It is now tomorrow.”

  The cold chill of death’s blade was at my neck. “I was born at exactly 5 PM. It isn’t my birthday until then.”

  He clucked his teeth. “I said the day of your eighteenth birthday, cher. Not the time.”

  Before I could even think of an escape plan, Baron Samedi’s white painted face was inches from mine.

  My gasp was stolen by the cold touch of his palm on my forehead. “I’ll meet you on the other side.”

  His laughter followed as darkness swept me away, my body falling into oblivion.

  Chapter 29

  The bed was hard and cold beneath my back, unyielding and unforgiving. My lids fluttered open, and I was met with a haze clouding my mind. An
angel stood in the distance, wings tucked by his sides and his face frozen in a watchful stare.

  Wait. Something wasn’t right. This wasn’t my room in Carrefour.

  Where was I?

  A headache thumped against my skull as I tried to recall my last waking moments. Flashes came, one flooding my brain and tripping into the next.

  The pentagram and intertwined crescent moons. The blinding light and burning pain. The visions.

  The lies.

  I was a witch. A conduit.

  Etie had been tricked into helping me. I was yelling at my father’s headstone. Baron Samedi appeared…

  Like a bolt of lightning striking my chest, memories tore through me. Air was yanked from my lungs. I scrambled into a sitting position, blood thundering in my ears. I’d been lying not on a bed, but a slab of marble. My gaze surveyed the surroundings, shivers sloping down my back. The graveyard was unlike any I’d ever seen.

  Headstones bigger than Etie towered, and crosses large enough to hang from sat atop. Ominous fog slithered over the ground like swirling white snakes. The night was thick and heavy. A full moon twice the size of normal gleamed from a pitch-black sky, casting a silvery glow.

  My limbs hung heavy at my sides. There was only one place I could be. I’d paid my debt to the voodoo king.

  I was in the spirit world.

  Tears turned the gothic panorama blurry. I was dead, and my last few moments on earth were spent angry, yelling at everyone I cared about, even my dead father. My mother and Abuela thought I hated them and Marisol would have to live with the weight of my sacrifice. I never wanted her to know. And Etie…

  Those mismatched eyes flashed in my mind, mixed with the many faces his moods brought. The thought of never seeing him again shredded my insides apart.

  Buoyant music drifted in the distance, an odd occurrence in a cemetery. Then again, I wasn’t in the world of the living. I was where the dead walked. Maybe they liked to party.

  I slid off the marble headstone, my feet sinking into the plush grass. The weight of my choices made me heavier. Slow steps carried me toward the music, the fog only allowing a few feet of visibility.