Dark Redemption

by Angie Sandro

  No. “Oh God, Georgie.”

  George grabs my arm when I try to bolt. “Mala, what do you see?” He wraps his arms around me. “Is it the boy?”

  No…can’t. I drag in a breath of icy air. It burns in my lungs. I press back against George’s chest. My eyes dart from side to side, trying to protect my mind from the horrors appearing one by one in front of me, but no matter which direction I look, there’s no escape. The circle of dead boys creeps closer. With bloody stumps outstretched and mouths open in silent screams, they’re like something out of a horror movie. Only it’s real.

  “We’re trapped, Georgie. There’s too many of them. We’re surrounded.”

  Chapter 4

  Landry

  Secrets and Lies

  After showering away the blood and feathers, I throw on clean boxers, jeans, and a sky-blue T-shirt and a gray hoodie. I’m already late for my appointment with Mala’s uncle, and my skin tingles with his spirit’s pissed-off energy. Only I don’t move fast enough in Gaston’s opinion. The house rumbles with his displeasure, and the floor buckles beneath my feet. I grab on to the edge of the sink to keep from sliding across the wet floor. Mala’s box of sanitary napkins, which are sitting on the counter, tips over. Pads rain down across the floor.

  “Hold on, Gaston. I coming,” I yell, dropping to my knees. I shove the pads back into the box, but stop upon feeling a plastic stick. I freeze with it in my hands, brain stuck on stupid as I process exactly what it means. And why it’s in this house.

  My breath catches as I flip the test over and study the results.

  Two red lines. Is that good or bad? Or rather is it positive or negative? ’Cause right now good and bad are all relative in our situation. I’m not opposed to having a kid with Mala—the face of a chubby-cheeked little girl with curly black hair and Mala’s smile flashes through my mind. My daughter would have me wrapped around her tiny finger the second she left her Mama’s womb. I’d spoil her rotten. Except that’s a fantasy. I banish her tiny image from my heart before she gets lodged inside, along with any lingering threads of hope. It’s past time I accept reality. I won’t be around to see my kid’s birth.

  “How long are you going to stare at that stick?” Gaston asks.

  I turn around, holding the pregnancy test up for his inspection. “Do you know what this means?”

  “Means you’re about to be a daddy.”

  “Yeah…okay, that’s what I thought too.”

  “I take it Mala hasn’t told you the good news yet?” He follows me out of the bathroom, looking dower. He fingers the trigger on his rifle like he’s wishing he could blow my head off for defiling his niece. I feel like I should let him.

  “Oh God, Ms. Jasmine’s gonna kill me.”

  “Kill you for what?” Ms. Jasmine’s distracted voice comes from the bedroom. I peek inside to see her lying on the queen-size bed, watching her soap opera. She rolls onto her side and gives me dagger eyes. “Knockin’ my daughter up, you mean?”

  “Shit, you know about it too?” My face burns.

  “I’m her mama. Think I wouldn’t know the signs?”

  “But—” How is this happening?

  “Knew you couldn’t keep your promise about keepin’ your dick in your pants. Now you’ve got to take responsibility. When you gonna propose?”

  “I don’t—” —even have a ring. I’m broke.

  “Better do it soon. Don’t want those snooty pricks in town labelin’ my grandchild a bastard like they did my daughter. You ain’t got much time left. Best drive to city hall and take care of the formalities there. You can always have a church wedding after you’re no longer possessed.”

  “Do you really think I can get this thing out of me?”

  Ms. Jasmine and Gaston wear identical expressions of pity.

  I groan. “Let’s go, Gaston. We’re already late.”

  Gaston doesn’t have to walk with me, but he does. For an ancestor spirit who’s not even family, he’s all right. He knows the value of silence. Apparently, I have super sperm. My little swimmers made it past the layers of contraceptive protection we used and impregnated Mala. I’m going to be a dad.

  Mala’s having my baby.

  Breathe. So far, I’ve avoided the impending panic attack flittering at the edges of my brain. Maybe because I know that between her inheritances from Ms. Jasmine and Magnolia—when she passes—Mala will raise our child in luxury. Once I’m dead, George can swoop in and play the uncle. Or if he’s really lucky, Mala will give him a chance to take my place.

  The baby’s face flashes before my eyes again, and my heart twists. She’s mine. Not George’s. I want to be the one to see her first smile. Hear her first laugh. Threaten the first boy she brings home and walk her down the aisle. It should be me who Mala grows old with, not George.

  My jaw clenches against the shaking of my body. “I can’t die. I’m not ready, Gaston. There’s got to be some way to fix this. Mala needs me.”

  “Nothing’s promised in this life,” he says, studying me from the corner of his eye. “Death comes to everyone. It’s just the timing that’s up to the heavens.”

  “I’d rather it be later rather than sooner.” I take a deep breath, reveling in the scent of the earth beneath my feet. The sun warms my back and the top of my head. “I’m not ready to give up. Especially now.”

  “Then don’t.”

  The way he says it makes it sound simple. And for some reason, it eases my anxiety. I don’t know how, but I will fight until the end. I push aside a low-hanging branch and step onto the trail leading into the woods. I should pay more attention to where I’m going, but with Gaston around, I’m not afraid of anything sneaking up on me. His energy crackles around him. Animals sense his presence and scurry off through the underbrush.

  I pause at the edge of what Mala calls the “Dark Place” and breathe deeply in preparation. No matter how often Gaston brings me here, I never get used to it. This time, when I step forward, I put up the shield to wall in my thoughts, blocking the spirits from screwing with my perceptions but porous enough for me to see them.

  “He’s arrived,” Gaston cries, raising his hands. “The father of the newest LaCroix. Welcome him to the family.”

  Silver lights spin in dizzy zigzag patterns in the air. The spirits flicker, then pulse, forming from hazy to solid within seconds. Mala’s ancestors surround me with the warmth of their congratulations, and it finally sinks in. No matter how painful the road ahead might be, Mala is bringing a new life into this world. A baby that has a part of me. I’ve found another reason to live.

  All my worries and frustrations melt away, and my dopey smile says it all. “I’m gonna be a dad.”

  “Felisitasyon, mon ami!” The familiar accented voice turns me around. The large man brushes a branch from the path and enters the clearing.

  “Thanks, Ferdinand. I think.”

  “This is a wanted child. Many will eagerly await its birth.” He uses a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his bald scalp, then folds the cloth neatly and puts it in his pocket. His dark eyes search the area. “Where is the expectant mother? Don’t tell me she’s playing hooky from lessons again. The only reason Magnolia lets me come to this rinky-dink town is to teach Mala how to control her abilities. You’re just a tag-along.”

  “I had another episode last night. Which I think may be the reason why Mala was driven off in a cop car this morning. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you over coffee later.” I shrug my arms out of the hoodie and drop it to the ground, then pull the cotton T-shirt over my head. My skin prickles in the cool air, and I wince at the pain of strained muscles when I shiver. Bruises mottle my flesh. Some have faded to yellow, while the newest ones are dark blue.

  Ferdinand hands me a bottle of cinnamon-scented oil.

  I pour a dollop on my palm and rub it across my chest and ask him, “Why did it take you so long to arrive today?”

  “Landry was uncommonly stressed out about being late,” Gaston tells Ferd
inand with a laugh. “It seems his impending fatherhood has made him more responsible.”

  Ferdinand’s dark, almond-shaped eyes slant upward with his wicked sliver of a smile.

  The bushes to my right rustle, and Sophia steps into the clearing as if making a grand entrance to a party, and her sultry green eyes linger on my abs. “I slowed him down,” she says, with a tinkling laugh. “Hello, Landry.” The tip of her tongue sweeps across her pouty lower lip.

  I scoop my T-shirt from the ground and wrap it around my chest. “What the hell, Ferdinand? Why did you bring her?”

  Ferdinand rubs a hand across his hairless scalp. “We’ve been working together for over a month with no progress. I’m desperate. I thought you were too. Do you deny that you planned to call Magnolia this morning?”

  I scowl at him. “Are you reading my mind?”

  Sophia laughs. “Yes.”

  “You both have this ability?”

  “It’s an easy skill to learn.” She glides across the bare earth. Her hips…damn, she knows how to draw the eyes. “I can teach you, if you like. Of course, you weren’t a fan of my teaching methods in New Orleans. Has this feeling of…revulsion that you experience in my presence waned? Does the mother of your child recognize how much she needs my help to keep her budding family intact?” Her head swivels, and she draws in a deep breath. “The air is full of power here, isn’t it, Ferdinand?”

  “Oui, I’ve found it to be so.”

  “The spirits accept you, but they resist me.”

  “That’s because they know you’re untrustworthy,” Gaston says from behind her.

  Sophia whips around. The glamour spell she weaves over her features to restore her youth drops for a moment as her eyes narrow on Mala’s uncle. Gaston cradles his rifle against his shoulder. His wide-legged stance is at ease, but I’ve seen how quickly he reacts to supernatural attacks. The man lobs a grenade like it’s the ninth inning and he’s pitching with bases loaded. If Sophia tries anything witchy, he’ll protect me. I think.

  Except the longer I watch their interaction, the more I’m not sure. Gaston isn’t behaving like his usual stoic self. He’s not exactly giggly, but he’s given himself a makeover that would make GQ magazine proud to feature him as a model. Rather than his usual burned appearance, I see him as he must’ve appeared as a young recruit fresh out of basic training. Damn, the old ghost has game.

  Sophia saunters over to Mala’s uncle. “Will you allow me to help Landry?”

  “Depends on what kind of help you plan on giving him.” He turns in a slow circle, keeping his eyes locked on her as she walks around him. Looks like he has trust issues when it comes to this woman too. He keeps his voice low, calm. “I heard about what you did to the boy in N’awlins.”

  “Did you now.”

  He steps forward, and Sophia sucks in a breath. Minute trembles wrack her body. “He’s my family, Sophia.”

  Her hand reaches out, stopping inches from his unblemished cheeks. “So am I,” she whispers. “I’ve missed you.”

  A shine washes over his features, and when it disappears, Gaston’s burned visage returns.

  Sophia’s fingers clench into a fist, and she swallows hard. “Must you?”

  “This is what I am now,” he says. I see his teeth moving through the ragged hole in his cheek. “But then, you’ve known where I was for the last forty-five years.” Bitterness lowers his voice. “So no more games, my love. You made your choice long ago.”

  Between one breath and the next, Sophia’s features shift. Maybe pain flickers in her eyes, and regret twists her lips. Or maybe my eyes are playing tricks on me, ’cause it’s gone now.

  She steps back. “Ever the pragmatist. This is why our relationship died with you, Gaston. But I’m a forgive-and-forget kind of gal. All you have to do is say the word. You’re family. Magnolia would make you whole, if you only ask.” Her arms open wide to encompass all of the spirits. “I could stitch you all the most perfect bodies.”

  “Don’t listen to her, Gaston,” I say.

  “Ferdinand’s right. You really are a party pooper,” Sophia tells me with a pout. “Why involve yourself in this? It’s his decision.”

  “Mala told me how Magnolia tricked her into bringing a child back from the dead. And how doing so killed the man who murdered her.” I shake my head. “The price isn’t worth it.”

  “Of course the cretin died.” Sophia cuts her eyes toward Ferdinand, and he shrugs. Like I’m the idiot for having morals. “Magic is about balance, Landry. A life for a life. So what? Karma’s a bitch, and he deserved to die. He murdered that little girl in cold blood. Mala felt the terror that child experienced at the moment of her death. The unfairness of the whole sordid hit-and-run. And during the moment of transition, she chose the side of justice. She chose to bring the child back.”

  “Mala didn’t know that guy would die.”

  “True. But she knew the price when she tried to bring her cousin back to life. Yes. I’m aware of that debacle in spite of Mala’s refusal to beg for help. It’s sad. If she didn’t have an attack of morality and hesitate, Dena wouldn’t be lingering on the edge.”

  How does she know about Dena?

  “Get out of my head!” I snap. “You have no right to judge.”

  Sophia chuckles, waving her manicured hand. “Sorry. It’s just too pathetic. As the last LaCroix, Mala has inherited the power of her ancestors. How many people have gotten hurt because she’s too afraid to use it?”

  “Mala’s weak,” Ferdinand says, going to the bloodstained altar stone. He opens his backpack and pulls out candles one by one. “I never should’ve told her the price for returning a soul to its body. She seemed tough, like her aunt. I didn’t think she’d get all squeamish about death.”

  “About murder,” I protest, but it’s like talking into the wind. “Tell it like it is. To bring Dena back to life, she has to murder Red. How the hell is she supposed to do that?”

  “I’ll do it,” a voice says, and I turn to see Carl stepping out from behind a tree. “I’ll kill Red if it’ll bring my sister back.”

  Damn it, I thought George would’ve made sure the kids got on the bus, not just dropped them off at the bus stop and called it good.

  Carl stares at me, and then his gaze moves to Sophia then to Ferdinand and the altar. How must this look to him—the candles, oils, the fucking chicken in a cage? Right, like we’re crazy cultists about to do a spell to summon a demon. Which is the sad, pathetic truth.

  The expression on the kid’s face screams that he’s been listening in on our conversation for far longer than I’d like. He shakes his head and gives a wry snort. “You’re all crazy. It feels like I’m in Twilight.”

  “Zone or glittery vampire?” I wave him quiet when his mouth opens. “Forget it. I’d rather know why the hell you ditched school.”

  His jaw hardens. “Like that’s important compared to what you just said about my sister. Which is weird. But what’s weirder is how ya’ll keep talking to somebody named Gaston, and I don’t see nobody else in this field but you three.”

  “Gaston is a ghost,” Sophia says, brushing her long, black hair over her shoulder and meeting Carl’s eyes with her own green gaze. “Surely you believe in ghosts. You’d have to, living with Mala LaCroix, heiress to the Hoodoo Queen Magnolia’s power.”

  Carl’s mouth drops. “You’re shittin’ me,” he says all in one breath, then looks at me.

  I shake my head, rushing to his side. “Go back to the house. I’ll get the truck and take you to school.”

  I lay my hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs it off. “Did she say Mala’s gonna be a Hoodoo Queen when she grows up?”

  Sophia smiles. “Yes.”

  “Stop, Sophia.” I feel like tearing my hair out. “Carl—”

  “Dumb Mala who can’t even kill Red to bring my sister back to life?”

  I suck in my breath at his words. “Carl—”

  “You think I’m stupid, but I’m not. I heard yo
u talking about saving my sister. I also know you’re sick in the head, Landry. So as much as I’d like to believe that Mala can save Dena, I don’t really believe all this.”

  “Fine. Don’t believe it. We’re all crazy.” I pause, frowning, as I try to come up with an excuse—any excuse—to get the glitter out of his eyes. “Look, you can’t say anything about what you’ve heard.”

  “Ha. Like anyone would believe me. Still, I’m not going back to the house. Or to school. That’s my condition. I won’t tell the rev about you all being insane, if you let me stay and watch your insanity play out.” He sits down on a rock and folds his arms. “Go ahead. Ignore me.”

  This certainly wasn’t part of my plan.

  Not that I have one. It went out the window the second Sophia and Carl stepped out of the forest. Still, it’s too good an opportunity to pass up. Mala’s not around to stop whatever happens. Sophia has the know-how to contact the demon inside me. And I need to find out what it wants and how to stop it. Pronto.

  “Okay, stay. Just be quiet.”

  “Sure. Oh, by the way. Congrats on knockin’ Mala up. I’ve always wanted to be an uncle.”

  I lurch toward him, arms stretched out, lips in a snarl. Maybe Dena won’t mind losing one brother. She’s got three more, after all.

  Gaston appears between us. I almost run right through him, which would’ve been gross and cold. Not to mention rude. “Mala needs help,” he snaps.

  My feet tangle, and I almost fall on my ass. “What? How?”

  He closes his eyes, body flickering like a lightbulb about to lose its spark. “She’s screaming.” His voice comes from far away, an echo. “I can’t go to her.”

  “What does that mean?” Panic makes me trip on my words. “Where is she? You’re her spirit guardian. You’re supposed to protect her.”

  Gaston faces me with a bleak expression. “A spell blocks me. It’s wrong, dark magic. I can sense her pain, her fear, but the spell acts to imprison the souls trapped inside its circle. And right now, Mala’s soul is stuck in there, and I can’t get in.”