by S. E. Babin
I stepped away, and his hands fell to his sides.
Hermes took a step back. "Do not do anything with your magic. Wait until you have some training."
I laughed. "And who's going to step up and train a librarian who swears she has magical powers?"
He frowned. "Something to figure out later."
I shook my head. "I have no intention of doing anything with it. Unless it helps me go to sleep, then I'm all in."
"I'll see you in the morning, fair Eve."
He disappeared before my eyes, and I stared at the spot where he stood for more than a few seconds.
My life was seriously weird.
Later that night, as I curled onto my bed, mentally and physically exhausted, the day's events crawled back in a continuous time loop, making sleep almost impossible. My body felt weird. My eyes felt weird. The sheets felt scratchy. I could feel, sense, smell, and see everything three times as strongly as before. I wanted to shed my skin and crawl into someone else's just so I could feel normal and maybe have a decent night's sleep. I was already bad at sleeping. I tended to stay up reading way too late. If I wasn't reading, I was thinking. There was always something to think about.
Tonight, it was me.
Isha.
Marie Laveau.
All things I never in a million years would have thought I'd be thinking about anyway. I was a small blip on the map, wasn't I? Or at least someone with access to something someone wanted and therefore got screwed over in the process.
It ended up being a long, torturous night.
I woke the next morning crabby beyond belief and had barely made it to the coffee pot before I felt a puff of wind in my apartment. I spun around, ready to chuck my empty coffee cup, and gasped as I realized it was only Hermes.
And I was wearing only a tank top and a pair of tiny shorts. Zero bra. Zero hairbrush.
We stood like that for an uncomfortable moment. Me with my mug raised over my head like a crazy person, and Hermes not even looking at my face.
He was looking at, uh...other things.
My mouth went dry, and I flung my arms over my chest to keep the girls from shouting hallelujah to him
Crap. But I couldn't help but snort. I might have only been a librarian, but I was still a girl. With boobs. Large boobs.
And Hermes had just gotten an eyeful of them.
I shoved my mug under the coffee machine, popped a pod in it, and let it go. Hermes and our awkward moment were just going to have to be ignored for a minute or two. I needed this before I could speak.
Once I had my coffee, I turned around, my arms positioned strategically to cover up the girls.
He swallowed hard once. Twice. Three times. Then he blinked a few times.
"Good morning." I felt a little bit evil and couldn't help the smile building on my face.
He cleared his throat. "Morning."
We stood there like bumps on a log.
"Would you like a cup of coffee?" I finally asked.
He shook his head. "Ah, would you like to get dressed?" he asked.
"You're the one who didn't bother to knock," I reminded him. "I'm in my own apartment, and technically, I am dressed."
"Errmmm," he said, shifting from one foot to the other.
I sipped my coffee silently.
Hermes spun on his heel and exited my apartment.
I laughed out loud and sat on my couch to enjoy my cup in peace. He'd be back soon, I knew it. But I wasn't going to hurry for him.
5
Hermes
“Holy mother of the gods," I whispered to myself as I stood in the parking lot of Eve's apartment. I rubbed a hand over my face and tried to blink out the image of Eve's glorious breasts.
But I couldn't. They were stained on my memory forever. I knew it. My father had made some beautiful specimens of perfection in Olympus, but Eve topped them all. Her imperfection was her perfection. The way her messy dark hair piled around her sleep deprived face. Her tanned skin and short, muscular legs. A librarian had no business wearing around a body like that. And her breasts.
"Stop it," I muttered to myself as I clenched my fists. I thought I was a gentleman, but there was nothing gentlemanly about the things I was thinking. Plus, she'd laughed at me. I'd been so bad at covering up my reaction, she had seen right through me.
"I'm an idiot," I grumbled. I blinked out of the parking lot and over to the closest coffee shop, not giving a damn who saw me do it. I was beginning to understand people in New Orleans were used to seeing weird things and very few even blinked at them. I decided I liked it here, even though Olympus was still where I called home. Perhaps the human world was not all that bad. Although there were major differences in the way humans behaved versus gods, we were still able to feel emotion and pain. But the humans seemed to feel it more intensely. I chuckled to myself. My reaction to Eve was a little more intense than I’d expected. Never had I felt that pull toward another being, god or not. I stood in line, doing my best to pretend to be human, and waited for my turn to purchase a cup of coffee. Once the pierced and bored woman handed my cup over the counter, I popped the lid off, poured an obscene amount of cream and sugar in, and decided to wait another fifteen or twenty minutes for Eve to finish getting dressed. Or...start getting dressed. I wouldn't be able to handle seeing her like that again while keeping my composure. I blew through the lid of my coffee to cool it a little. I had no idea how scalded a tongue could get from a hot drink until I came here. We didn't have coffee where I was from, but I could see why the humans adored it so. When the fifteen minutes were up, I whispered a little prayer to Olympus, and this time, instead of popping right into her apartment, I adjusted my course and landed right outside her door. I knocked three times. Moments later, the door opened, and Eve was grinning from ear to ear. "Glad to see you've regained your senses," she said as she grabbed her purse from the table beside the door and followed me out. I grumbled something unfavorable under my breath about getting called out like that, but Eve was still too amused to get upset about it. I liked her. A lot. She was fiercely intelligent, good-humored, and had a body that wouldn't quit. This was why I should have left her alone to face her own problems. But as she stepped out in front of me and I watched her hips sway back and forth in a hypnotic dance, I pushed those thoughts away. There was just something about Eve. We headed straight back to the library to start digging into some of the material Eve had found about the voodoo princess. Most of it bored me to tears. I'd never been a big reader, and even though I was bored from reading ancient history and all the ways voodoo had gone wrong, there was nothing boring about the way Eve's strange new green eyes lit up with excitement every time she cracked the spine of a book. I wanted to roll my eyes at myself. I was like a sniveling teenager waxing poetic about the girl who lived in the next village over. Get a grip, I told myself. "Hermes." Her husky voice rolled over me. "Mmmm?" I asked. "I think I found something." She scooted closer to me, holding out a dusty book. I leaned over to peer at it, but couldn't find anything interesting. I cocked an eyebrow at her. "And that would be?" She rolled her eyes. "There was a house Marie Laveau frequented right here in New Orleans. Her family stays there often." I dismissed the theory immediately. "Too easy. Isha has already checked there. I can guarantee it." She frowned. "Maybe she has checked there. Maybe her family is keeping her hidden. I can't imagine they'd be big fans of Isha." I shrugged. "Who knows? I still think it would be a waste of time to go there." Eve stood up and dusted off her jeans. "I'm going anyway." I stared up at her. "It's dangerous to go anywhere by yourself." "Then come with me." She turned and headed out of the office. With a curse, I untangled my long legs from the floor and lurched up after her. I was immune to a lot of things, but being stiff after sitting on the floor for hours wasn't one of them. "I guess we're going!" I called after her. She shook her keys at me in response. Eve drove like a woman possessed. She took corners like she wasn't afraid of death and thought stopping at red lights was optional. I was hanging on to the
handle by the window for dear life. My training for this wasn't up to par. Every immortal who went to Earth was forced to sit through an eight-hour training class on what not to do when we finally arrived. We were taught to talk as close to the natives as we could, walk like them, dampen our powers, and mesh in as much as possible. The driving portion of it was basically short and simple advice—don't drive. But we were taught basic traffic rules just in case. Eve had broken every single one of them. By the time we screeched into the driveway of an old white historical home, I was white-knuckled and praying for my immortality to still be intact. She winked at me as she shut off the car and got out. I let my head fall back against the headrest and forced myself to take a couple long, shaky breaths. This woman was going to be the death of me, and magic wouldn't even be involved. Wouldn't that be a pickle? Once I recovered my senses, I stepped out of the car, thanking the gods I still had two feet to walk with, and headed over to stand behind Eve. She didn't make fun of me, which was a slight miracle. For a librarian, she was sometimes very chatty. The door opened slightly and a young, dark-skinned woman stared out at us. Her eyes were a strange light gray and her face was shadowed against the dim light of the interior. "Help you?" she asked, but she didn't open the door any further. Eve slapped on a winning smile. "Yes," she said, her voice friendly and innocent. "I work at the local library, and I'm doing an ancestry project for the town's historical society. My research turned up information about your family, so I wanted to visit and ask about how you were related to the famous voodoo priestess Marie Laveau. The woman's look grew even more mistrustful if that were possible. Curious, indeed. If the priestess wasn't here, she shouldn't be acting so suspicious. "It's a lot of degrees of separation between us and her," the woman said, her voice a soothing mix of Creole and Southern. "I'm sure there is—" Eve began, before the door was pulled open and a larger, more stern-faced woman appeared. She shooed the younger woman away and faced us. I took an involuntary step back and just barely managed not to choke with surprise. This woman, whoever she was, used magic. Heavily and often. "The librarian?" she asked. Her accent was much thicker than the other woman’s. Eve nodded and pulled a card from her purse. When their eyes met, the larger woman's dark eyebrows pulled together. With little ceremony, she yanked Eve inside the house and slammed the door shut, leaving me outside, gaping. "Eve!" I shouted. No one answered. I spit out a curse, inhaled, and blinked inside the home, cloaking myself to make sure I stayed invisible. The woman let Eve go and flicked open the blinds to look outside. "Did anyone follow you?" she asked. Eve blinked. "Errmmm. No?" I rolled my eyes. No, because I'd cloaked us from prying eyes before I let Eve drive us. Anyone trying to track us would experience confusion and delays. They would be able to see us if they were looking straight at us, but once they looked away, their attention would be drawn elsewhere until they forgot what or who they were looking for. It was a simple spell, quick yet effective. I hadn't bothered to tell Eve. The woman sighed and snorted, as if she hadn't expected anything else, and pushed Eve gently forward until they were in the kitchen. I didn't see any weapons or other threats, but their magic was strong. If something did happen, I wasn't sure I'd have time to intervene. "And, you up there, thinking you so clever. You can come in here and have a cup of tea, yes?" I blinked in surprise as the woman stared right at me even though I was supposed to be invisible. Letting the cloak drop, I stood before her. “Try anything funny and we're going to have problems, hear?" I nodded. I hated voodoo.
6
Eve
I never thought I'd be kidnapped and served the most delicious tea I'd ever had in my entire life. Filled with roses and jasmine and offered with the freshest milk and sweetest of
honey, I was in the captivity of the world's most polite criminals. Of course, I don't think they saw themselves as criminals. Technically, they were, since I didn't think it would go over well if I tried to leave, but mostly, they just seemed scared. I thought my hunch was right. They were harboring Marie Laveau and knew someone was after her. They thought that person was me, but as I sat there, I saw the first doubts begin to surface. They whispered to each other as they pointed to my eyes. I sat there allowing them to stare while sipping my delicious tea. The younger woman stepped forward and spoke. "My mother foretold of a beautiful librarian who would come to cause problems for us all."
Her words were both a compliment and an insult. "I mean no trouble," I said.
She nodded. "I'm sure you mean well, but your presence spells trouble for us all. It means Marie has been discovered."
"On accident," I added.
"No matter. If people knew of the magic Marie discovered to keep her youthful, we would be hunted to the ends of the earth."
My gaze flicked up to Hermes. Perhaps it wasn't about competition after all. If it were me, I'd rather find out the secret to eternal youth than worry about people showing up at my door for spells. Isha could go anywhere, become anyone she wanted, and she could do it while living forever. The fallout could be staggering.
My librarian-brain spun with the complications. Overpopulation. No one dying. No one growing old or sick. The strain on the earth's resources, the financial implications, the—
"Whoa, Eve," Hermes said quietly, appropriately sensing how far out to left field my brain was spinning. "The only people who have the formula are sitting in this room."
He spoke then to the younger woman. "Miss?"
"You may call me Eliza," she said.
"Eliza," Hermes began. "Another woman has forced magic upon Eve in order to uncover your whereabouts."
Eliza nodded. "We know."
"Can you help her?" he asked.
Eliza's eyes narrowed as she looked me over. "No," she said, her tone final.
"No?" Hermes echoed. "Why not?"
Eliza picked up my hand and turned it over, studying the lines etched into the skin. "Because she is destined for this. Her magic was suppressed when she was younger. Isha did her no harm. She merely loosened the binding and allowed her magic to spill forth."
My mouth dropped open. "I am no witch—"
Eliza interrupted me, a soft smile on her pretty face. "Oh, but you are, darling. Your palm speaks the truth of your legacy. Isha performed no black magic, but she did open your magic and make you connect the dots directly to us. She used you, but not in a way where the rule of three would come back to her."
"Rule of three?" I questioned.
The older, large woman spoke then. "What you dole out into the world will come back to the magic user times three. If you will good into the world, it will return to you three times over. If you will evil, so it will return thrice as bad."
Hermes nodded. "A familiar concept. But is it true?"
Both women's eyes landed on Hermes, and if he were a cockroach, I'm sure they would have stepped on him too. "Shall we find out?" the older woman asked.
Hermes held both hands up in surrender. "Sorry. We have different rules."
Eliza's eyes flashed light gray. "Yes, sugar, you do." She stepped closer and walked around him, studying the tall, handsome man. "Your magic is ancient. Strange. What are you?"
Hermes hesitated before he spoke. His knuckles tightened on the back of my chair. "I am not from here," was all he said.
"Mmmm," the older woman said. "Don't tell us, then. We will find out soon."
That sounded a little bit like a threat. I squirmed in my seat. "Are we free to go?" I asked Eliza.
She shook her head as she picked up the teapot and poured me another cup. "Not until you speak to Marie."
"Will she be here soon?"
"Child, she's several hundred years old. Give the poor woman time to prepare herself," Eliza said.
I sighed and sat back in my chair. I wanted to get this taken care of as soon as possible so I could get my life back. Although, from what Eliza had said about my magic, I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to. "This magic," I began, "how do I use it?"
Hermes' soft gasp of air was all I needed to know he disagre
ed with my line of questioning.
The older woman chuckled. "Honey, you're in the wrong place. What you have ain’t voodoo."
"Then, what is it?" I asked, thoroughly confused.
"You have the magic of the earth. Dirt and life and rain and wind. You are a creator, child, not a priestess."
I blinked. "How am I supposed to figure it out?"
Eliza's gaze narrowed in concern. "You have no one? No mother, no sister, no aunts?"
I shook my head. "I have no family local or alive any longer."
The older woman reached over and patted my hand. "We will find you someone. Someone strong with the earth."
I tilted my head to study her, but she seemed sincere. "Thank you," I said after a moment's pause.
"Welcome." Her head turned as a creak sounded from below the stairs. "Eliza," she hissed. "Make sure that tea is hot and ready to go. Get the honey out and set it on the table. The good honey. The kind we gathered from the beehives outside."
Eliza rushed over to the cabinet, grabbed the honey, and hurried back to the table. She cupped her hands over the pot, closed her eyes, and whispered a few words. Seconds later, the teapot began to steam.
"Wow," I whispered right before my hair blew back from my face. Power the likes of which I'd never felt hit me full force in the chest. The glasses and plates in the cabinets rattled, and Hermes put his hand on my shoulder to keep me from falling out of my chair.
A tall, regal woman stepped into the kitchen from the darkened staircase. She wore her ebony hair wild and spiraling down her face and back. Her dark skin shone like obsidian, and her eyes, an amber gold, flashed with magic as she regarded us. She moved with a grace that belied her ancient age.
"Marie Laveau," I whispered, awed by the history I was witnessing. Never in a million years would I have ever thought I'd be alive to see this. A miracle. The woman had found the fountain of youth all right. She had the kind of face that could be twenty or fifty. Nary a wrinkle to be found, nor a gray hair anywhere in the massive amount of curls spiraling around her head. Her lips were full and red, and her eyes were bright and intelligent. But there was a cunning there, a spark of something I didn't like very much. In many of the histories I read about this woman, she was a kind and benevolent soul, and she worked to help people with illnesses considered incurable. But in other histories, she was an evil and petty sorceress, ruthless with her magic and prone to fits of jealousy. Seeing her now, I wondered which stories were true, or if, perhaps, they both were. I'd soon find out.
