Bella Flores Urban Fantasy Collection

by R D Martin

  Bella reread the first few lines and the cold chill in her spine evaporated, only to be replaced by an electric tingle. Mama Ade had known she would die, but how? And why write to her?

  I have my things in good order, so no need to worry there. Ain’t your business no how, and my lawyers, a bunch of leeches, they be takin’ care of it.

  I been around a long, long time, and it’s time for me to leave the world behind. But before I go to my reward, there’s something I need you to do, and you ain’t gonna like it.

  Ray tells me y’all met the Baron and he told you the story, so that makes this easier. Near 150 years ago, that old preacher stuck his nose where it didn’t belong and got hisself hurt for it. The war was just over, but Yankees were already coming down in floods and there was still a lot of hate to go around. When that man got stabbed, they did their best to keep him alive, but should have let him die.

  Loa ain’t good or evil. They just is and when Mama called them to heal the preacher, they came. But something went wrong. They healed his body, but when the job was done, they didn’t want to leave. It happens now and then, but we got ways to force them out. Before she could do anything though, the man up and ran into the swamp.

  They searched for him, but couldn’t find a trace. Everybody thought gators ate him until he showed up again later.

  They tried to force the Loa out of him, but the man, not the Loa, fought back. I still remember the way he looked, like the devil be after him. Well, ain’t no stopping a man once he made up his mind. All the Queens gathered and they tried together to do something, but it didn’t work. It wasn’t until Mama had me help that we beat him back. Didn’t even know I had magic then, but anyway.

  He weren’t no fool though and knew we’d try something, so he set his trap first. Got his hooks into folks and, when we went to work, so did he. He started making people kill themselves. Only way to stop him was to make a deal, so we did. We wouldn’t do nothing to him and he wouldn’t do nothing to folks.

  He ain’t human anymore, not for a long time. The deal held all this time, but now that I’m gone, I’m afraid he’ll do something else. He’ll be celebrating now, thinking he’s won, so he won’t be expecting anyone to do anything.

  None of the Queens will help you. They all be trying to keep the truce, which is right. But your magic is different from his and it be strong while he steals his power. He be tied to me though, I made sure of that. Tied to this place till he gets himself free.

  Fight him, Bella. Keep my family and my city safe.

  Adelaide Boudreaux

  Bella reread the entire letter twice, trying to understand what was being asked. It wasn’t hard to believe Mama Ade lived more than a century and a half. With the help of magic, Witches could extend their lives two or three times the normal length. No, the hard part was believing the woman was asking her to go to war. That’s what it amounted to, anyway. War with a man over five times her age and experience. A man it had taken every Voodoo Queen in the city and then some just to fight to a stalemate.

  Lowering the letter, she let her gaze pan over the assembled mourners. Even if she was so stupid as to fight the Baron, how many more people would be killed? How many folks here would find themselves dressed in black again, mourning the loss of even more friends and family?

  And how would she even fight someone so old and steeped in power? She’d seen firsthand what he was capable of, and it still turned her stomach to jelly and made her throat drier than the Sahara Desert.

  A low, mournful note from a brass instrument cut through the quiet murmurs of hushed conversations, somehow adding to the solemnity of the funeral. A second rose to accompany it and in a very short order, an entire band joined to play a song that pulled on the heartstrings and reminded everyone why they were here. Not that the reminder was necessary.

  The music drew people from the church and into the cold mist outside. One of the band members banged a drum, and as though the drumbeat was echoed by the universe, a roll of thunder boomed overhead. The music was slow and low and mournful, expressing in notes everything being felt by attendees.

  Pallbearers slid Mama Ade’s coffin onto the back of a rough wagon that looked more at home in a Wild West show than a funeral, and as two dappled horses pulled the wagon away, the band moved to follow.

  There was an order to the procession she didn’t see at first and was relieved when Ray grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the front of the procession with him. She looked around for Karina, but couldn’t see her through the swarm of people leaving the church.

  Behind them the band continued to play, and a group of women dressed in black with colorful sashes across their chests or bright feathers sewn into their hats began moving, taking slow deliberate steps as though dancing in tune to the slow dirge. Parasols and lace-trimmed umbrellas popped open and began to spin. A few men even joined in, each carrying his own umbrella, but the rest of the assemblage just stood in place as the wagon, family and band began the slow procession to the graveyard.

  Though they didn’t move any faster on their trudge to the grave site, the music did. It started with a single trumpet belting out a trill of notes too fast and loud to fit in with the dirge, popping up and disappearing like a fish leaping above water before sinking back into its depths. The short disturbance in the music turned into an inspiration for other players. One by one they too added their own flourishes to the music, changing it from a song for the dead into something with a little more life to it.

  The men and women behind the band moved a little faster, their deliberate steps becoming a little looser. Umbrellas and parasols began spinning, displaying their lace undercoats as they did. Some more colorful ones even had strings of beads sewn into their undersides that flashed out and around with colorful pops before disappearing again under their covering.

  By the time they’d reached the halfway mark, the music changed completely, becoming more like the jazz New Orleans was known for. Cymbals crashed and drums rolled, competing for attention against the blasts and blares of brass instruments. The music infused Bella, flowing through her and against everything she understood, made her feel as though she’d abandoned the funeral procession for a miniature Mardi Gras parade. As she watched people around her dance to the music, she wondered for a moment if she was expected to. Looking to Ray for her cue, she watched him bob a little to the music, but otherwise continued walking.

  It was perhaps another five minutes before the procession reached the graveyard. Unlike the one in the city, a short iron fence surrounded this one, rusted and repainted so many times it was a miracle it continued to stand. Inside the fenced patch of land rose twenty miniature mausoleums. Each of these was well kept, and there was none of the graffiti present she’d seen in the city.

  The procession followed the wagon through a set of iron gates swung open to allow entrance. As they passed each of the whitewashed graves on their way to the rear of the cemetery, she could see most of them were well taken care of. There weren’t as many signs of aging here as she’d seen in the city, and she assumed folks here were less interested in tourists looking for a spooky time than keeping the place from becoming an eyesore.

  The band hadn’t entered the graveyard with the rest of the family, instead standing to one side of the gates where they could play as people passed through. Several mourners stayed out with the band, giving family and close friends a little more room.

  Standing next to Ray, Bella looked around at the history she found surrounding her. Each of these small buildings contained not just families, but generations of people, all cooped together for the rest of eternity. The one they stood in front of seemed to be an exception to the rule. It was definitely one of the oldest ones here. Made from layered brick with the name Boudreaux carved into the top lintel, there was no amount of whitewash that could completely cover the signs of aging. The structure was smaller than most of those surrounding it, and at least from the front, it looked as though it only held two people.


  A large hole stood open, like the mouth of some great beast readying itself for the meal it knew was coming. Under the exaggerated care of Ray and five other pallbearers, Mama Ade’s simple wooden casket was lifted from the rough wagon and carried to her final destination. As the box slid into the opening, there was a susurration as wind whipped through the trees, swirling the mist and disturbing leaves. With each rustle, leaves shed water they’d been collecting, letting it fall to the ground with a patter as though they too were crying.

  The family hung around for a little longer, shuffling feet and listening to more words from the preacher as the band played outside the gate. After a few more minutes, people began wandering away from the grave, some heading for the exit while others left to visit younger structures before leaving for home. Bella stuck as close to Ray as possible, so when he turned to leave, she was ready to go.

  “Coming to the house?” he asked.

  “Sorry, say again?”

  “Coming to the house. It’s a tradition here. After the funeral, folks go home and change, then go the family’s home. They’ll bring food and liquor, sit around eating and drinking until after dark. Kind of a last send off.”

  “I don’t have anything to bring,” she said, protesting. She wasn’t used to southern customs, and she was already a stranger in this sea of people.

  “Don’t worry about that. There’ll be so much food you won’t be able to toss a stick without hitting a pot or plate. I know Cousin Willie will make some gumbo and Jesse’s planning on bringing a string of fish to fry up. You should come. Let us show you how we celebrate the dead New Orleans style.”

  “And this wasn’t celebrating?” she asked, waving a hand at the brass band and the crowd around them as they continued to dance to the music.

  “Naw. That’s just a funeral. Trust me, you really should come. Besides, I think Mama Ade would want you there. She took a shining to you and doesn’t do that for many people.”

  “Shining?”

  “Liking. She took a liking. Anyway, you’ll come, right?”

  “I don’t know where it is and besides, I don’t want to leave Karina alone. She…”

  His laugh interrupted her and, for the briefest moment, she could hear real humor in his voice with no sorrow.

  “She can come too, and I’ll pick you both up.” He looked at his watch and she followed his gaze to the large rubber monstrosity he wore on his wrist. “Tell you what. I’ll drop y’all off at the B&B and be back at, say, two o’clock. That’ll give y’all plenty of time to change, freshen or whatever. So say you’re coming.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “What? You’re gonna make me beg?” The lazy smile she’d become so accustomed to seeing on his face was back and, for some odd reason, she felt a bit of warmth in her stomach despite the cold drizzle soaking her.

  “Well, nothing wrong with a man begging.”

  “So that’s how it is, huh?”

  She couldn’t stop her giggle from escaping, though she did her best to cover it with an exaggerated cough. One of the nearby mourners turned to look in her direction and, ignoring the embarrassed flush running up her cheeks in a red wave, she shook her head.

  Turning to Ray, ready to tell him she already had other plans, she didn’t see the fat root poking up through the dirt. Flailing to keep her balance, she couldn’t stop herself from pitching forward. Closing her eyes against the impact she felt coming, she jerked in surprise to feel a set of arms wrap around her, stopping her descent.

  Opening her eyes, the ground less than a foot from her face, she twisted her head to see Ray staring down at her. Their eyes met and she found the warmth in her stomach spreading a little more than she was comfortable with.

  “You gonna keep holding me or do you plan on helping me up soon?” she asked.

  “Well, if I have a choice…” he replied, letting the sentence hang with a bit of a laugh. Before she could say anything more though, he lifted her as if she weighed nothing and set her on her feet.

  “Thanks,” she said, patting herself down and straightening her twisted shirt.

  “No problem. Besides, now you owe me.”

  “What? What do I owe you?”

  “Hey, I just saved your life.”

  “Say what?”

  “Yeah. That fall could have killed you.” As though he was reminded of where they were, the humor died on his face. “Okay, poor choice of words. But at least you’d have had some really nasty scrapes. So, you owe me, and I intend to collect by picking y’all up at two. Deal?”

  Rolling her eyes, she shook her head and pursed her lips.

  “All right, if you insist. I’ll… I’ll talk to Karina too.” She needed to talk to her soon, regardless. Maybe this would give her a good excuse.

  He laughed. “Great.”

  Matter settled, they chatted together throughout the walk back to the church.

  In some small corner of her mind, she’d worried about finding her friend, but realized she needn’t have bothered when she spotted her leaning her hip against a dark colored sedan, talking with a tall man in a purple suit. The man laughed at something she said and, to Bella’s chagrin, she watched Karina run a finger up the man’s chest, grab his pastel green tie and give it a tug. The pull wasn’t hard enough to budge the man, but he laughed a little louder and the two moved a little closer under his large umbrella.

  Leave it to Karina to find someone to flirt with at a funeral. It was, in some respects, great to see her doing so. It meant she was back to normal, or at least whatever qualified as normal for her. Now all Bella had to do was find out if they were okay.

  Motioning to Ray’s pickup, she called out. Hearing her name, Karina turned and, to Bella’s dismay, the smile on her face slipped a bit before she turned back to the man and made her excuses.

  The ride back to their B&B was quiet, though Karina agreed quickly enough to join them at Mama Ade’s home for the dinner. Ray tried to keep as much of the conversation going as possible, but soon even he felt the uncomfortable silence growing between the two women.

  Sliding out of his truck, she turned to thank him for the ride while Karina disappeared inside.

  “You two okay?” he asked, nodding his head toward the B&B.

  “I don’t know, to tell the truth. We need to talk, but there hasn’t been time. And I don’t know what to say. Not really. How do you tell someone magic is real, they’re a Witch, and if they want to live, they’d better keep it secret?”

  “Why in the hell would you need to tell her that? Trying to get you both killed?”

  Shaking her head, she told him what she’d learned about Karina. He nodded, prodding her on. When she came to the end, he was shaking his own head, understanding the bind she was in.

  “That’s a hard one,” he replied, whistling through his teeth. “My suggestion? Just tell her.”

  “Yeah, like that’ll work.”

  “Maybe not. But what’s the worst that happens? She thinks you’re crazy and never talks to you again.”

  “She’s my best friend though, and I really don’t want to lose her.”

  “Then give her a chance. If she’s really your friend, she’ll listen. If not, then she won’t. Either way, you’ll know what you need to do. I take it you don’t plan to involve the Imperium.” The tone of his voice told her exactly how he felt about that idea.

  “I don’t want to, no. But what if… what if something happens? What if she…” Her hand twisted in the air as though trying to grab the right words to convey what she was thinking.

  “She’s made it this far with nothing happening. Maybe she’s just not that strong. We see folks like that down here all the time. Have some ability but can’t use it a lick.”

  “So what do you do with them?”

  “Nothing. Leave them alone. Well, I mean keep an eye on them, sure, but mostly, let them live their lives.”

  “And the Imperium doesn’t do anything about that?”

  “Haven�
��t yet. If they did, I’d be long gone.”

  “Wait? What? You? But your family, I mean Mama Ade, and you know all about it. How’s that possible?”

  “It happens. My sister was trained up by Mama Ade, but me? I can see it, but that’s about all.”

  Her stomach dropped as she listened to him. To see magic, but unable to touch it, would be torture she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy. She shuddered to think what life had been like for him.

  “So anyway, talk to your friend. It’s better to know than not. She might be going nuts too, thinking she’s crazy and not sure how to tell you either.”

  It wasn’t something she’d considered, but she had to admit he could be right. She might be sitting in their room wondering how to tell her she needed to see a shrink.

  The truck roared to life as he turned the key and she stepped back.

  “So, I’ll see you at two?”

  She nodded and watched the truck move off, tossing flecks of mud from the dirty driveway behind it.

  Turning, she stared at the door a moment before looking up at the window of their shared room. He was right, she thought. It really was better to know than not. Taking a breath to calm her jagged nerves, she walked up the porch steps and reached for the handle before pausing.

  She knew it was just nerves, and putting it off would not make things better, but she still wished she had more time. Things would change between them after this, and not necessarily in a good way. She still wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. Hi, I’m a Witch and so are you just sounded too much like the beginning of a sitcom.

  Pushing the thought back, she opened the door and stepped in. No matter what happened, she’d accept it. And if she lived through all this, she definitely wanted to talk to the Finder about a raise.

  15

  Every home has a unique history that could tell every secret about the people living in it if someone knew how to look. The medicine cabinet says how sick or hale the family is. Pictures lining walls describe what interests family members may have, or how large and devoted they are toward each other. Even the contents of the fridge have a story to tell if someone took the time to listen.