Dark Redemption

by Angie Sandro

  Good idea. “What about Gaston? Is he still with Mala? Have you heard from her yet?”

  “He says she’s recovering,” Ferdinand says, holding out a blue glass bottle. Herbs float in the coffee-colored liquid. “It’s time for you to do the same. Drink this.”

  I hold my breath before drinking and shudder at the sharp, minty taste. “What was that?”

  Carl shakes his head. “Maybe you should’ve asked before drinking it.”

  Yeah, not bad advice for the future even though it came from a punk like him.

  Ferdinand puts the bottle into his backpack. “Thank you for your trust. It’ll help purify you.”

  “Because I’m tainted.”

  “Blessed,” whispers the voice in my head. Then it laughs.

  Crap, I’d forgotten about my deal with the devil. “It feels like I’ve got a layer of scum on my skin, as if I took a bath in that nasty pond.”

  “That’s the touch of dark magic. It infects,” Ferdinand says. “The medicinal cleanse will purify you, and we’ll need to do the same with Mala. Otherwise the taint will begin to rot her from the inside out. Wait too long, and it’s impossible to remove. Dying in such a manner is painful.”

  “Will she turn into a zombie?” Carl asks.

  Something about the thrum in his voice makes me pause. He seems a bit too eager for this to be a concern. What is he thinking? “There’s no such thing as zombies,” I lie. The kid’s eyes narrow in suspicion, and then he shrugs.

  I need advice, but Sophia’s right. Talking about this while Carl’s around means nothing but trouble. Mala will be pissed when she finds out how much he’s learned about this crazy, magical world we live in. Plus he’s scared. He’s hiding it well, but I don’t miss the slight tremor in his hands.

  “My truck’s over at the Ackers’ place,” I say to Sophia and Ferdinand. “If you don’t mind riding with us while I take Carl to school, we can talk in private on the way back.”

  “Hey, I told you I’m not going to school.” The punk-ass kid steps backward, arms crossed. “That was our deal for me keeping my mouth shut about what’s going on. You’re going to renege? Turn into a lying sack just like my mama and daddy?”

  I freeze at his words, stomach churning. But that’s what he wants. He and his brothers are masters at manipulating my emotions. I still remember how devastated the Acker kids were when their mom ran off four years ago. And if that wasn’t bad enough, their dad lost his ever-lovin’ mind and became a conspiracy theorist who booby-trapped their property, kept everyone away except his own group of friends, and effectively isolated the kids from having a social life outside of school. Then he tried to kill Mala. His parents weren’t the best role models. And apparently, neither am I.

  “Sorry, Carl,” I say. “You caught me off guard. I never should’ve agreed to the deal. Not holding you accountable for your bad choices was wrong. So, unless you want to explain why you’re skipping to the rev, you’ll go to school without whining.”

  “How do you expect me to concentrate on geometry after everything that’s happened?” he grumps, stomping away. Still, he doesn’t complain while he helps us pack up the magical supplies, even cracking an unfunny joke by holding two of the candles against his chest. He plays with the wick nipples, cooing.

  “If you want to learn how to handle real breasts, I can demonstrate,” Sophia says, cupping herself with both hands and adjusting the fit of her bra with a wicked smile.

  “Sophia!” I say. “Don’t encourage him.”

  She titters and blows a kiss in Carl’s direction, and the boy ducks his head and blushes. Even Ferdinand breaks his traditional silence to chuckle.

  Children. I’m surrounded by children.

  “I bore witness to the creation of mankind…” the voice in my head hisses indignantly. “Despite the fact that the human form has evolved significantly within that time, female and male sexual reproductive organs vary little from your primate origins. I am immune to the evocative nature of a female’s breasts. Unless they belong to Mala LaCroix. She, as humans say, has a fine rack.”

  “Shut up!”

  The creature chuckles in response to the surge of anger flowing through my body, pleased it got a rise out of me. I guess I’ve become its new favorite toy. I share my glare with the others. “Behave. All of you.”

  Carl’s face flames. “Sorry, Ms. Sophia,” he apologizes with an Adam’s-apple-bobbing gulp and shoves the candles into Ferdinand’s open backpack. He picks up the chicken cage, making me extremely grateful that I don’t have to carry it. My mouth waters every time I look at the bird.

  I use the walk through the woods to settle down, avoiding actual thought as much as possible. My head throbs, stuffed with my thoughts and the creature’s. It seems to find everything amusing. From the way Sophia minces through the woods like she doesn’t have a care in the world—only letting out a curse when her high heel gets stuck in the mud—to the last of the orange and gold leaves falling from the almost-naked branches overhead like butterflies flitting from flower to flower.

  After seeing those butterflies on the corpses, I’ll never appreciate their innocence quite the same ever again.

  “Jaded. You have no sense of beauty.”

  “They were eating those kids,” I say. “It was gross.”

  “What?” Carl asks, throwing a look over his shoulder.

  My shoulders twitch. “Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

  “Eats to live. Eats to poop. Everything eats. Including butterflies.”

  It’s got a point.

  The path takes us past the pond. Sophia pauses on the bank and stares across the water for a long moment. “Oh, I’d forgotten how beautiful this area is.” She points toward the same tree that Mala and I made out under the first time she brought me to the pond. “I lost my virginity to Gaston right over there.” She sighs. “We were sixteen and so in love.”

  “TMI, Sophia.” I tilt my head toward Carl. The kid’s getting too much in the way of a sex education today. I’m such a bad guardian. ’Course, I could be overreacting. Lots of boys his age aren’t virgins, but I don’t think he’d blush this much if he had any experience.

  Sophia winks. “No matter how experienced the man, one night with me is like popping your cherry all over again. You got a small taste, so you know I speak the truth.”

  “Get out of my head, Sophia.”

  “What’s she talking about?” Carl asks, shifting the cage from one hand to the other. It takes a minute for the words to fully process, and his eyes grow wide. “Oh my God, she’s got telepathy. She’s reading your mind.”

  Shit, that was close.

  “Did you cheat on Mala with her?”

  God, help me.

  “I shall do my best,” the demon answers. It shoves my consciousness aside and speaks using my mouth. “It was only a brief dalliance. Drugs were involved.”

  “Stop! You’re breaking the agreement.”

  “You asked for my help.” The rustle of scales fills my ears.

  “I said, ‘God!’”

  “Exactly. To what other god would you commune with if not me?”

  The throbbing pain behind my eye messes with my thoughts. How do I explain the difference between big-G God and little-G god without insulting the creature? Or is it messing with me? I rub my temple, unable to speak. It takes a minute to notice that Carl studies me with narrowed eyes. Whatever he sees quirks his lips. He crosses his arms and shakes his head.

  “Nah, you’re messing with me. Mala would kill you. Kill you both if you ever cheated on her.” Carl mimes pointing a gun at my head and pulls the thumb trigger. Pow, he mouths. “My cousin doesn’t play. You shouldn’t even joke about something like that.”

  “I remember,” Sophia says in an odd tone. No longer teasing. I catch her staring, and my hand drops. If she’s really able to read my mind, has she sensed the change in my relationship with the creature?

  “Worry not, host. I don’t care to share this tasty b
rain. The female likes to play, but I’m the master of games.”

  This basically means that I’m screwed. Do not pass go.

  We’ve reached the fence dividing the Acker and LaCroix property. “How about if you lead the way, Carl,” I say.

  “Sure.” The kid smiles shyly at Sophia. “Be careful to stay on the path, Ms. Sophia. My dad booby-trapped the heck out of this place. We destroyed all the ones we could find, but you never know.”

  “He’s been crushed,” Ferdinand whispers in a low rumble. He slaps my shoulder, and I wince. “It’s sex magic. The boy didn’t stand a chance.”

  “Couldn’t she have dampened it a bit? He’s barely fifteen. He’ll have unrealistic expectations for any normal girl he encounters in the future.”

  “Aren’t most first loves like that? The attraction is only physical. A heart binding isn’t involved. It will fade.”

  I nod in relief. What he said makes total sense. Mala’s my first love. But the physical attraction only played a small part. It wasn’t until she tried to comfort me in the morgue garden after Lainey died that I started falling for her. My emotions grew stronger each time we spoke, until I finally reached the point where I couldn’t imagine life without her.

  The Ackers’ two-story, plantation-style farmhouse comes into view. I’ve put a lot of work into renovating the place. I sold the junked cars and machinery for scrap metal. I used the money to replace the rotten boards on the wide porch and hung up new hurricane shutters. The twins repainted the house a buttery yellow because it was Dena’s favorite color. They also take care of her garden, which sits in a corner of the property.

  An empty white Toyota Camry is parked in the driveway, and the front door stands wide open.

  “Someone’s stealing our stuff!” Carl yells, lurching forward.

  Ferdinand grabs his arm. “Let us.” He lifts up the back of his shirt and pulls out a 9mm semiautomatic. “I’ll go in first,” he says.

  Hell yeah, he goes in first. Like I want him at my back with a gun. I haven’t been acquainted with Ferdinand long enough to know whether or not he’s a good shot. And everyone in town knows Acker’s dead and that the kids are living with Mala. Whoever’s bold enough to break into the house during daylight might be crazy enough to come armed.

  Carl and Sophia duck behind the white car, which blocks them from being seen from the house, while I follow Ferdinand, taking the steps up to the porch in twos. He motions for me to stand on the opposite side of the door frame, and once I’m in position, he yells, “Come out with your hands up!”

  Muted voices filter from within, one pitched high like a woman’s, the other deeper and pissed. A shadow darkens the doorway, and Ferdinand moves faster than I can react. Hell, by the time I remember to blink, he’s grabbed the guy by the arm, yanked him from the doorway, and pinned him to the outside wall. He presses the gun barrel to the base of the guy’s skull.

  A middle-aged woman with fire-engine-red hair stands in the doorway with her hand pressed to her mouth. Screams roll forth, ending in a choked wail. I thread my arms through hers, locking her wrists up behind her back. The last thing I need is for her to lose what’s left of her mind and try to defend her man. Her voices rises an octave when she realizes she can’t break free.

  “Shut up and don’t move or I’ll blow his head off,” Ferdinand snaps at her, and she shrinks into the fabric of her peasant blouse and ankle-length skirt, looking like a wilted flower child—a holdover from the sixties era or a poster child for a cult. My pick goes to the cult angle, since the smarmy guy she hooked up with gives off an oozing, drink-the-Kool-Aid-Jim-Jones vibe.

  Ferdinand must sense the aura of danger floating around the guy too. He still holds the gun, but at least it’s no longer pointed at the guy’s brainstem. No need to accidently splatter the newly painted walls with gore simply out of twitchiness. “Hey, kid, get up here and cover us,” he yells, tipping his head toward the woman.

  I glance at Carl, who stares at the woman with wide eyes. Sophia has her hand on his shoulder, and he visibly trembles, like he’s about to fly apart. A sob bursts from deep in his throat, and he shakes off her grip.

  “Mama,” he cries, running forward. He clears the steps in one jump and then staggers to a halt about five feet from the woman. “Is that you?”

  My arms drop when it dawns on me who I’m touching. The woman steps aside, giving me a clear view of her face, and dashes tears from her eyes. Too late, I notice the resemblance between her and her children. I always thought Dena favored her father, but seeing Pepper Acker again after four years brings a stab of pain. This is what Dena will look like someday, if she survives.

  “Daryl…no, it’s Carl, isn’t it?” Pepper staggers forward with her hand stretched toward her son.

  Carl flinches. His foot slips off the edge of the porch. I lunge forward, like I’ll be able to catch him before he topples backward. Lucky for us both, he white-knuckles the railing, holding on for dear life, and I’m glad I replaced the rotten wood or it never would’ve held his weight.

  “What are you doing in my house?” His gaze moves to the cardboard boxes on the porch, and he frowns. “Are you stealing from us?”

  Pepper gasps. “No, of course not. I’ve come home.”

  His eyes trace the curve of her face. His chest heaves from his rapid breaths. Pain flashes across his features. Then he lets out a deep breath and his expression hardens. “This isn’t your house. Hasn’t been for over four years. Why are you here now, when we don’t need you anymore?”

  She flinches, eyes flickering to the man that Ferdinand now holds in place by the arm.

  “Don’t look at him. I asked you the question,” Carl yells, pushing off the railing. His back straightens and his chest puffs out. Once again, I’m reminded that he’s not really a kid anymore. Even though he’s stupid as a rock, he’s becoming a man. And he’s determined to protect his family, even if it’s from his own mother. “Are you brainwashed or something? What do you want?”

  “Stop it, baby. Please, don’t be mad.” She takes another faltering step toward him. This time he holds his ground. “I only heard about your daddy dying a few weeks ago. I came as soon as I could.”

  “Why?”

  Her face crumples. “How could I not? My baby girl’s in the hospital. You boys are all alone. You need me. Us. That’s my boyfriend, Judd. We came to take care of things.”

  “Is he the man you ran off with?” Carl’s eyes dart toward Judd, but come back to his mother. “Nah, I doubt that guy stuck around for long. How many guys have you shacked up with since you decided to abandon your own kids?”

  “Hey! Don’t talk to your mama like that,” Judd yells, jerking his arm. “Treat her with respect.”

  “Respect is earned, so shut the fuck up. Nobody asked for your opinion.” Carl’s hands double into fists. He faces his mother again. “You chose that piece of shit over me. Over Daryl, J.J., and Axle. Over Dad and Dee. You left us. So scurry back to wherever you’ve spent the last four years before I call the cops and have you arrested for trespassing. Nobody wants you here. Either of you.”

  “Ain’t your property,” Judd says. “We’ll go when we finish what we came for. Wrap up the reunion, Pepper. The realtor will be here in two hours. We need to finish inventorying the property.”

  Pepper sighs. “Sorry, Carl. I tried to do this the easy way, but you’ve gone and made it hard. Best accept the fact that I’m not going anywhere until I set my affairs in order, no pun intended. Your daddy’s and my divorce never finalized. Legally the house and property are mine to sell, and I’d be a fool to hold on to this backwoods piece of swamp. You and your brothers are mine too. I’m taking back everything that I gave up to get away from him. So go pack your bags. You and your brothers will be moving to New Orleans with me.”

  A drawn-out silence follows as we process her words.

  “You’re a selfish bitch!” Carl yells.

  Judd shoves past Pepper, knocking her against the wall.
He’s a big guy, but now that he’s closer, I see he’s not as big as Carl. Pepper must not have told him how Carl grew up. The kid’s been fighting his whole life, starting with beatings from his dad and then on to schoolyard bullying. The boy’s no saint. And he punches hard enough to break bone. Judd swings at him, but Carl ducks. He pops Judd square on his bulbous nose. The audible crack and flying blood causes Pepper to scream. Carl grabs the guy around the waist, lifts him up, and body slams him to the porch. Once Judd’s beneath him, Carl’s fists fly in a flurry of punches aimed at Judd’s head.

  Ferdinand stands off to the side, watching with a slight smile. Can’t say I’m not enjoying the show either. The jackass deserved to get his ass beat. And seeing the boy handle his business like a man fills me with fatherly pride. Still, I can’t let it go too far. I let him get in a couple more punches then yell, “Carl, stop! You’re gonna kill him!”

  When he doesn’t even pause, I wrap my arms around his waist and haul him off Judd. He swings his elbows back, catching me in the gut. Air woofs out of my chest, but I don’t let go. It’s like hugging a bobcat, spitting and clawing in my arms.

  “Damn it, Ferdinand. Help me.”

  Judd sits up, holding a hand to his broken nose. “I’m gonna kill you, you little bastard.”

  Carl kicks out at him. “Come on!”

  “Stop antagonizing the kid or I’ll let him finish what you started,” I yell at the man who remains huddled in a ball with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose to stop the bleeding. Ferdinand grabs Carl’s legs and helps me carry him down the stairs.

  “Drop him,” I say, and Ferdinand nods.

  Carl hits the ground butt first, and I wish I’d let go before Ferdinand. Dropping him on his head might’ve knocked some sense into him, but he’s too pissed to feel pain. He tries to scramble up. So I shove him back down with a boot to the center of his ass. He bucks and twists beneath me, strong with his anger. Normally I wouldn’t need help with him, but not today. I squat to press a knee to the center of his back. “He’s breaking free. Pin him down.”

  Ferdinand sits across his legs.