Rebellion pulsed through me, but I forced myself to respond with the kind of smile that usually got me out of trouble. “I think Ava has a right to the truth about this world, but I’m sorry if I broke some sort of rule around here.”
Bel snorted. “Don’t try throwing your watered down lorelei charm around here, girl. The only one it works on is your Amazonian friend, and by the looks of it, she’s already wrapped around your finger.”
The blonde girl rolled her eyes. “What my rude friend means to say is that his name is Bel. If you were around way back in the B.C.s, you would have worshipped him as a sun god. If you were around in the Seventies, you probably would have known him as the runway model who blew away his career and about a million dollars’ worth of cocaine in the back room of Studio 54.”
Bel pouted. “It was only a few hundred thousand, and you never needed to go to a dingy back room at Studio 54 to do your business. Those were more civilized times.”
The girl rolled her eyes again. “Whatever. It’s like, ancient history.” She lifted a laptop off the dean’s desk and offered it to me. “I’m Chloe. I have a message for you.”
I glanced at Ms. Dalton, but she was staring at her hands folded on the desk in front of her. Chloe followed my gaze. “I’ve already given the White Lady her message, but maybe she should share it with you. It concerns you too.”
I took the laptop and the girl slouched back in her chair as if she’d been released from some great tension. “White Lady?” I asked.
The dean looked up. “I’m the White Lady— the leader of the New Orleans coven. All other covens in the Southern U.S. owe their allegiance to us.” She gestured to the two in front of her. “Bel and Chloe work for Morgause, the Seer of New York. You’ve heard of her?” I nodded. “Good. Then you know that her messages are not to be taken lightly. I can guess what message she bears for you. Hearing mine may help you better understand yours. Go ahead Chloe.”
The girl stared back. “You know I can’t.”
Gesturing helplessly, the dean sighed. “I’m sorry. I forgot. We’re all bound by the rules of our separate vocations.” She pushed her chair back and stood. “Chloe is the Messenger—the only one of her generation that we know of. She’s the direct descendent of the being who once called himself Hermes, the messenger of the gods. Each of his descendents who are born with the same gift serves Morgause from the age of ten till adulthood. Chloe has an eidetic memory, and once given a message by someone with the power to command her, she can and must only give it to the designated recipient of that message, or die trying. Bel is her bodyguard.” The dean’s lips twitched. “Though what he did to fall from Morgause’s grace to get that assignment, I don’t know.”
“Trust me, it’s an honor.” The man’s tone was sour.
Ms. Dalton sat on the edge of the desk. “Chloe, if I give you a direct command to repeat the message to Lacey, now that you’ve discharged your duty, would that suffice? It risks turning possibility into fate if I voice my own death warrant.”
Chloe sat up straight again. “Maybe. Command me with power to ‘repeat’, not ‘say’, and I think it will release your message.”
The dean didn’t move, but I felt the flare of power as she murmured the words of a spell under her breath. “I am the White Lady,” she said out loud. “Messenger, you have discharged your duty to me. You will repeat the words of the message which now belongs to me to do with what I will.” I might have been imagining it, but I thought I saw the slightest shine of silver through the sleeve of her silk shirt.
Chloe’s pale eyebrows lifted in surprise. “That did it.” All business now, she turned to me. “So, here’s the White Lady’s message from Morgause. The Gates of Guinee stand between this world and the next, guarded by the Ghede. To open the seventh gate, Saint Expedite demands an offering of the bones of three witches. Li Grande Zombi will swallow them and open the way between worlds.” She smirked at me and a dimple formed in one cheek; she definitely wasn’t even thirteen yet. “That’s actually a pretty straightforward one as far as messages from Morgause go.”
Ava breathed in sharply. “Wait a minute, I get it! It’s Voodoo!”
The dean’s face was white. The message didn’t mean anything to me, but it clearly did to her. “According to Voodoo lore, the Ghede are powerful spirits who guard the way between life and death. The seven gates are thought to represent the seven days that a spirit remains close to the body and is in danger from an evil bokur or wizard. In Lousiana Voodoo, the Ghede are called the Barons. The statue of Saint Expedite near St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 is believed to represent the most fearsome Ghede of all—Baron Samedi. And the seventh gate is believed to be hidden in the cemetery.”
“And zombies.” Ava’s voice shook. “I’m sure she said zombies.”
“No, Li Grande Zombi was Marie Laveau’s pet snake. It was thought to embody the snake god Dhamballa.”
I shook my head. “So someone’s going to try to open the gates by using the bones of witches? That’s crazy!”
“Is it? Perhaps. But the threat is real if Morgause sent the message. My death would create a power struggle on this continent that we can ill afford given the more recent turn of events.”
Bel swung his legs off the desk and straightened in his chair. “King Arthur’s return has set plots and plans in motion all over the world. War is coming, and when it’s over, there’ll be a whole new order in place. Everyone with even half a talent is going to try to carve out a little kingdom for himself out of the chaos.”
“Are they?” the dean murmured. “What we do know for a fact is that the bones of one powerful witch are already missing.”
“Marie Laveau,” I guessed.
“Yes. The original Xs marking her tomb were part of a spell that every ignorant tourist’s addition only strengthened. The marks were deliberately simple and crude to conceal their true purpose.”
Ava rubbed her arms. “Obviously someone figured it out.”
“Obviously. I have to admit I never anticipated someone simply erasing the marks with paint. But you have to understand that the Voodoo Queen’s followers were responsible for that magic—and that magic has nothing to do with my own. I was not Marie Laveau’s keeper, though perhaps I should have been. Our unknown assailant now has the first component of the spell. That leaves us on the list.” She was looking at me.
One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. It took a moment before I was calm enough to speak. “The vampire called it a creature. He said it was looking for me, but I don’t have any power. Not anymore.”
The dean gestured for Chloe to respond. “The Seer of New York had a premonition of the Crone’s death and sent me to her.”
“You were in my hometown? Doesn’t the Seer believe in telephones? Or email?”
“Morgause would never trust one of her messages to any medium that can be manipulated and altered. I have no choice except to deliver any message exactly as I receive it.” The girl looked uncomfortable. “She was angry that we didn’t stick around long enough to witness everything that happened there, but after the Crone gave us this laptop, we went home. My instructions from Morgause are to say to you ‘you are the Maiden’, and then tell you to open the laptop.”
A tingling sensation ran down my back. All eyes were on me, but I never minded a bit of theater. I knew the truth of what I was—a powerless, defeated, wannabe witch—but I’d go through the motions for now.
Placing the laptop back on the dean’s desk, I lifted the lid. The screen was blank except for a Celtic symbol, similar to the ones that once covered my arms. Three blades made a trillium shape with a circle cutting through the middle.
Chloe pointed to the tip of each blade. “Water, fire, air.” She traced the circle with her finger. “Bound by the all-encompassing spirit that commands them. The circle represents the body, or the blood, that houses the spirit and balances all the other elements.”
I backed away. “I don’t want anything more to do with blo
od magic.”
The girl traced her finger around the circle back the other way. “It’s not just blood. It’s body and spirit combined. It’s the power of the Earth as it contains all those elements. It’s everything that’s alive and powerful, balanced and contained. But that’s not the message.” She sat back down. “Press one of the keys.”
I obeyed and the screen saver disappeared, revealing a window open with a video embedded in it.
“Press play,” the girl urged.
When I pressed the arrow for play, the window filled with the Crone’s ageless, aristocratic features.
“Lacey McInnis, if you are watching this video then you know that I am dead. It is only just. Enhanced by my power this side of the Wall, I have lived longer than any being has a right to. You are my heir. Whether this brings you good or evil, I cannot say, and am surely now past caring. There is some money and a small house in upstate New York which are now yours and the details can be found on this computer. But most importantly, I am the last in a long line of my kind. I spent my years as the Maiden in Avalon. As the Mother, I raised heirs not of my own body. Viviane, Morgause, and Morgana sprang into being in their present incarnation fully formed, but with the minds of children. I spent my power bringing them into theirs. When they abandoned me, I became the Crone. I had thought that the daughter of Cernunnos would be mine, but she walks a darker, more dangerous path. So now, Lacey, I am left with you. Do not curse me for leaving you at the bottom of my choices, for you may yet have reason to curse me for choosing you at all. With my passing, you are the Maiden. From the moment you hear these words, this mantle is upon you and others will recognize it. This computer contains a partial account of all the spells I have achieved, but it is woefully incomplete and I can guess that I have not taught you anywhere near enough to protect yourself. The return of Arthur has set events in motion and there is no more time. The choice of what to do with what I have given you is yours. It is no longer my concern.”
The video ended. No one spoke as I closed the lid on the laptop. Even the constant tap, tap, tap of Claire’s keyboard had ceased.
Seeing the Crone again didn’t make me sad. The old Lacey had been taught in Sunday school to love one another. The new Lacey didn’t think old women who tortured you and then gypped you on all their promises deserved to be mourned.
I was winding my hair tightly around one finger and its tip was turning purple. I forced myself to let it go. “Whoever wants the bones of powerful witches doesn’t want mine.” I pushed up my sleeves to show my arms. “I have no power. I was just a receptacle for the Crone to use.”
The dean pushed up her own sleeves and held out her arms. The faint tracings of silver could have been dismissed as barely visible scars, but to me they looked like flowing vines and flowers. “Witches are mortal beings. We can’t touch magic without being marked by it. When we abstain or moderate our use of power, the outward manifestation fades, but what we have done can never be fully wiped away. The mark—the actual essence of power—goes deeper than that.”
Bel’s lips twitched. “What she’s trying to say is that it goes all the way to the bone.”
Horror filled me. If my very bones were marked by the Crone’s darkness, how could I ever escape her? How could I ever find my way back to being the old Lacey? “So I’m the third target.” I was perversely proud of how cool my voice was.
Ms. Dalton pulled her sleeves back down. “Maybe. While your potential as the Maiden is great, there’s someone currently much older and far more powerful who is also here in the city.
Bel became alert. “Who?”
The dean narrowed her eyes at him. “The current Voodoo Queen of New Orleans—Marie Laveau’s heir.”
“See? Voodoo,” Ava muttered under her breath. Louder, she asked, “Shouldn’t we warn this Voodoo Queen then?”
Dean Dalton tapped the desk. “Yes, but she won’t trust any message coming from me.” She looked meaningfully at Chloe. “But if it came from someone she would believe . . .”
Bel ran his fingers through his hair. “Bloody hell.”
As Chloe shook her head, her hair whipped around her shoulders. “Morgause wouldn’t like it. She’s possessive about what belongs to her.”
The man barked a laugh. “More like stark raving bonkers. Definitely not someone you want to piss off.”
The dean folded her arms. “Then it’s probably best not tell her about it.”
A scream of pain and terror broke the answering silence.
CHAPTER SIX
A TASK
Ava was out the door first. The rest of us followed her down the hall and into the foyer. Claire Benoit was propped up against the wall, a security guard pressing a cloth to her arm. An upturned bowl of Christmas balls had spilled its contents around her and drops of red blood were scattered over the silver spheres.
Ms. Dalton knelt beside her. “What happened?” The whites showed around Claire’s eyes and she was breathing fast. When she didn’t answer, the dean looked at the guard.
He pulled back the cloth to reveal two puncture wounds still streaming blood. “Maybe she tripped and fell against the fireplace. She could have hurt herself on the poker . . .” He paused, his face confused. “But I don’t know where it went to.”
Bel tapped him on the shoulder. “Be a good man and go call an ambulance.” The guard nodded and rushed back to his office.
Bel lifted the woman’s arm while she stared at him, panting and murmuring something. He frowned. “It looks like a snake bite.”
Claire nodded violently. “Yes, yes!” she cried. “Damballah, Damballah!”
Dean Dalton took the woman’s face in her hands, forcing her to look away. “Claire, listen to me. You’re safe now. I won’t let anything harm you, I promise. Just calm down and tell me what happened.”
The woman took a shuddering breath and seemed to regain some control. “It was the loa Damballah, the great snake god that bit me. And Baron Samedi commanded it! He was here. I am marked for death!”
“I had no idea you believed in Voodoo,” the dean murmured.
“Baron Samedi! It was him! Right here in this room!”
“Shhhh, I promise to protect you. We’ll get you to the hospital and make sure, but you don’t seem to have been poisoned by the bite. You can tell me more later, but for now, sleep, and I’ll guard you.” The dean whispered something in her ear and Claire closed her eyes. Silver flared once across the dean’s collarbone.
Bel threw himself down on the leather couch, his long legs spilling out onto the floor. “Well I know I’m exhausted! If we’re done here, Chloe, then let’s go back to the hotel.”
She ignored him. “What did you say to her?”
The dean slumped into an armchair. “It was a spell. I bound myself to protect her from any threat for as long as she lives.”
Chloe’s pale eyebrows lifted. “That’s a powerful spell. It leaves you exposed.”
“I could feel the magic in that bite; it was ancient and dark. When Claire showed up at the school a few years ago, she was homeless. I gave her a job thinking I was helping her, but she’s a mundane—she would never have been exposed to such evil if not for me.”
“Still . . . .”
“Do not argue with me in my own house, little girl.”
Chloe flushed. The dean sighed, but didn’t apologize. “I still need you to take a message to the queen.”
The blonde-haired girl’s lips set into a stubborn line. “That’s not a good idea.”
“I’ll do it,” I said and then wished I’d kept my mouth shut.
Bel didn’t wait for the dean to agree before he was up and on his feet. “That’s settled then. You don’t need us anymore. Good luck with the whole Voodoo thing. I’m going to be sipping a martini and getting a massage, but to each his own. C’mon Messenger, we’re going.” When he opened the door, the sound of the arriving ambulance came through it.
Chloe stared at me; I couldn’t tell if she was grateful I’d r
eleased her from the burden of accepting an unwanted message. “If you need us, we have a suite at the Ritz-Carlton until tomorrow—room 905.” I nodded and she followed her companion out.
The dean greeted the paramedics and explained that there was some possibility that Claire had been bitten by snake. With amazing efficiency, Miss Benoit was strapped to a stretcher and driven off in the ambulance.
“You’ll take the message then?” She was staring out the window at the departing vehicle.
I shared a look with Ava. The girl grimaced, but I knew she was in as well. “I said I would.”
“Then come with me.”
We went back to her office where the dean retrieved a set of keys and offered them to Ava. “You can take my car. It’s parked in the back.”
Ava took the silver key ring. “Aren’t you going up to the hospital?”
“Later. Whatever did this was able to pass wards that I’ve placed all around the property. I need to reinforce them immediately. I know everything that comes in or out of this place, and yet Claire was attacked by something practically right under my nose.”
“Everything?” Ava squeaked. I guessed she was wondering if the dean was aware of her late-night excursions through the hole in the fence.
But the woman was too pre-occupied to notice Ava’s discomfort. “You must tread very carefully with the queen. Her name is Adelaide Rochon. We’ve only met once, and trust me, it wasn’t a comfortable meeting. She’s a witch, but there are as many types of witches as there are shades between black and white.”
I shifted uncomfortably. “So we don’t know if she’s a good witch or a bad one.”
“Adelaide practices the Vodou religion, something outsiders can’t truly understand. The loa—the spirits—can be bound to do a petitioner’s bidding for good or evil. These opposites are only a balance and one is not necessarily preferred over the other. Because of that, it’s very difficult to assign any particular morality to her. I believe she can be trusted, up to a point, but she’s also very dangerous. ”
The dean sat down heavily. “Adelaide guards her power and influence jealously. I came to this school because the opening here allowed me to create a haven for the young members of our kind. I have rarely needed to use my power in almost twenty years. Still, Adelaide believes I’m only biding my time before I overthrow her and take her followers. Any message from me will be mistrusted, but perhaps she will listen to the Crone’s heir.”
Sword of Elements Series Boxed Set 2: Bound In Blue, Caught In Crimson & To Make A Witch Page 52
