by Unknown
My magic was strong, but it couldn’t heal the damage that was done.
Drake dragged himself to a standing position and started towards me, slouching to one side. His black magic gathered in his free palm. Drake stood over me. He let go of his wound and gripped the ritual dagger tightly. The bell’s mournful song came to an end as he stood there once again, dagger raised and ready to strike. He screamed at the realization. His chance at infinite power had passed. The ritual was now void and averted for now. He threw the dagger to the side and began to gather his magic, readying himself for my final death blow.
“You fucking bitch! This is all your fault!” Fury ignited in his eyes and I knew he was beyond seeing reason. “I should’ve just killed you when I had the chance the first time.”
Sparks flew from his hands, and I reached up, trying to defend myself one last time.
Chapter SEVENTEEN
Au Revoir Mon Amour
The ground began to shake and a sudden gust blew out all the candles. It felt like the old cathedral was about to come down around us. Was it an earthquake? The temperature in the hall plummeted, covering my battle heated skin with a damp chill. Drake’s magic reached out towards me and wrapped around everything in its path and held me captive. It seeped into my stomach and climbed through me, tarnishing every bit of my being with its filth.
The tiny edges of my own delicate and pure magic were blackening. I could see it in my head as clear as I could see Drake in front of me. There was no pain. It was pleasurable, actually. This wasn’t like the magic he had thrown at me. It wasn’t meant to destroy. It was different. This was meant to permeate me, infect me and everything inside me. I enjoyed it, basked in its warm embrace and that terrified me. Writhing on the floor as the ecstasy of it rocked through me, I felt better than I had in years, since before my parent’s deaths. My toes curled as the sensations ebbed and flowed within me.
The pleasure was ripped from my grasp viciously. I was slammed back to earth. My breath came out in a little cloud, condensing in the frigid air. The sounds of shrieking and fighting ceased between Rhys and the Bacalou. I lay flat on my back. An itchy feeling filled my nerves as my magic sluggishly tried to knit the charred edges of my back together. The Bacalou fled, slithering back into the shadows. Rhys was standing ramrod straight, but the expression on his face told me just how shocked he was. His mouth hung slightly agape, and his fierce eyes were wide, darting back and forth at whatever held his attention. Arlen had moved back, staying crouched and ready to spring, his weapon at the ready. Drake had backed up away from me considerably. The man was shaking his head, looking panicked and angry.
“No! It’s not too late!” he screamed at something behind me. I turned my head in time to see a black swirling hole open where the crucifix had been. It was an inky black smoke-like continuum. Tendrils reached outwards towards us, towards Drake, who had backed up significantly behind me. I scrambled to my feet in time to see the black hole take form. A large hooded man stepped forward from the portal with ease despite the matter that clung to him, stretching in strings, from the entrance. My eyes widened. It was the man from my dream. The deal. He was the one who had been there with Marie Laveau over two hundred years ago. He was physically pulling himself away from the thick sludge of the portal that was trying to suck him back in. The portal made a thick, wet slapping sound when it released behind him. The mouth of the portal stayed open.
Slithering from their hiding spots, the Bacalou rubbed against the man. They reminded me a lot of cats greeting a much loved owner the way they climbed over the man. He stepped forward. His powerful presence settled over my skin.
“I can still do this! Just give me one more chance,” Drake pleaded with the cloaked figure who stood menacingly before us.
He obviously knew whoever this was, although his behavior felt odd. Who could instill such fear in someone that did such horrible things to people?
The man didn’t respond to the pleas that broke the thick silence. I heard the rustle of clothes as Drake fidgeted when there was no response. I felt like an intruder. spying on someone’s private interactions. Uncomfortable with being caught in the middle of the two, I managed to crawl out of the line of fire to Rhys. He set to work trying to speed along the healing of my damaged back and ease my pain. It didn’t hurt much yet. The area was too wounded and tensions too high to have much feeling in it, however I knew that between our combined magic, it wouldn’t be long before it would be unbearable as the nerve endings fired back to life. Rhys never took an eye off of the scene unfolding before us, always prepared to fight or flee should the need arise.
“Your time is up,” a deep, unearthly voice croaked from beneath the hood. He seemed indifferent, just stating a fact.
“Just a little more time! I can kill the girl. There’s still time! Please, Sir! Just give me another chance,” Drake beseeched the man. His voice broke when he pointed at me to make his argument.
“No,” The hooded figure said with finality.
Drake wailed, pulling at his hair and wildly spinning in every direction, searching for a way out of his predicament.
The searing pain shot up my spine, finally taking hold. I tried to keep in the whimper fighting to escape, but couldn’t.
Drake was manic, like he had hit his breaking point. A series of bursts left Drake’s hands as he flung his damaging powers at the hooded figure, trying to fight his way out and kill the mysterious interloper. The tall man just absorbed the blows like they were nothing. It hardly phased him.
A shrill whistle sounded and the cloaked man stepped backwards towards the still-open portal. He reached out with a slender gloved hand and brushed the portal. Ripples warped the surface as if it was a glassy pond surface. Its ripples continued to grow angrier. The portal started to glow with a light igniting in the center of it. It was a signal of some sort.
The Bacalou began to get excited, flying close to the vaulted ceiling of the huge room. There had to be hundreds of them. The cloaked figure said nothing more to Drake as the Bacalou began to swoop down increasingly closer to Drake, taunting him. Their shrill cries echoed off the walls, creating a vortex of sorts as they moved faster and faster. Temperatures in the church dropped even further with the breeze coming off them. It was a tornado of shadows and rather beautiful to behold… when you’re not the focus of their attentions.
The man pulled a long staff from beneath his cloak, a staff with a weathered yellowed skull at its pinnacle, a staff that I had seen before.
It was the Baron Samedi.
He stepped forward towards Drake, not sparing a glance in my direction as he removed his hood and stood before us in his full glory. Thick paint decorated the skull on his face as he shed the cloak altogether. He wore his full Ghede regalia for the occasion. This was business for him, after all. He looked pissed.
Drake’s eyes almost popped out of his head. It reminded me a lot of those squeeze toys, where the eyes pop out of an animal when you squeeze it tightly.
“You?” Drake seemed shocked to his marrow to see the King of the Dead standing before him, ready to pass judgment on his crimes.
“Drake Saint Claire, you have murdered countless individuals and thrown off the balance of the Twelve and set chaos loose upon the races. While I can appreciate your efforts, you must be held accountable and punished for your crimes,” he said it with a smirk.
“This is a fucking set up! You can’t do this,” Drake shrieked.
“I think you forget who you are speaking to.” The Baron’s eyes narrowed at Drake, who dropped to his knees, screaming and holding his head as if he was trying to keep it from exploding.
I wasn’t sure what it was that the Baron did to him, but he must have stopped because after a few seconds, Drake stopped screaming and struggled to his feet, shaking the whole way.
The Bacalou hung back waiting for an opening. They were going to attack. You could tell by their shadow body language. Their violet eyes darting back and forth between the Baron
and Drake, hungry for the torture that would ensue when they were unleashed.
“We should go while we can,” Arlen whispered to Rhys and I.
I shook my head sadly. “No.”
I couldn’t leave. I had to see this through to the end. Beyond that, my fate was sealed. Arlen started to argue the point, but I stopped him and placed my hand on his arm. Something passed between us. He understood. Rhys stayed silent, taking it all in. His only response was to give my hand a gentle squeeze, reminding me that I wasn’t alone in this.
“For the crimes you have committed, you are sentenced to immediate death followed by eternity in Guinee, never to pass into the land of the dead for reunification with the ancestors.”
My mouth fell open. It was harsh, though nothing less than suitable for the crimes he had committed. Guinee is the in-between world where tortured souls wander, never finding peace with their loved ones on the other side. It was the ultimate punishment.
That must have been the cue for the Bacalou for as soon as the last word was spoken, they attacked. Hundreds of them tore bits of flesh from the scared man as he screamed and begged for mercy. He would get none. The Bacalou plucked him right up off the floor and pulled him with them towards the blazing portal.
“You can’t do this! You double crossing, back stabbing bastard,” Drake howled it over and over again. They had slight trouble pulling the solid man through, but with a quick pop, his cries were cut off. Drake was gone. Dead. Forever to be a tortured spirit and never find peace.
The Baron turned to us. He dropped his formality. You could see it fall away from him with each sure step he took towards me.
“Maya, my dear, sweet girl. It’s time to go.” He was so matter of fact about it.
I wasn’t ready for it. I doubted I ever really would be.
“You can’t have her,” Rhys said firmly, standing his ground.
Arlen stepped back, not wanting to get involved and looking fairly disturbed by what he was hearing.
“Play thing?” Samedi asked.
I scowled; Rhys was so much more than my play thing. He was the love of my life.
The Baron leaned casually on his staff, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. Rhys still had a hold on my hand and his grip seemed to be growing tighter by the second.
“We have a contract, need I remind you? I was more than generous with you, allowing you your little heroic dalliance. You got to save the day, protect everyone you love and all the people of La Nouvelle Orleans. Hooray!” The sarcasm was thick in his words, yet no less true. He had been generous by allowing me the time to fulfill my destiny and save Rhys from the Baron’s escort to the land of the dead.
“I know.” I turned to Rhys and cupped his face between my hands. My thumb brushed his lip, those damn kissable lips that I couldn’t get enough of. I stared into his eyes, imploring him to understand that this was something I had to do, for both of us. I pressed a sincere, brief kiss to his waiting mouth. His eyes were screwed shut tight when I pulled back from him.
“You can’t go. I won’t let you. I love you, Maya! You can’t give up and let him win.” His whispered voice tugged at my heart.
I placed my finger over his lips. “Hush. I know, Rhys. I don’t want to go, but I don’t have a choice. You have to be okay. I can go with him knowing that you will be okay somewhere out there in the world.” I started to get a bit choked up. “This isn’t goodbye. This is see you later. You’ll be seeing me again and I’ll never stop thinking about you.”
“Tick tock, my love. We have things to attend to,” the Baron Samedi chimed in, thrusting his groin slightly towards me with a waggle of his eyebrows.
I nodded, wiping the tears from my eyes before he could see. I pulled Rhys into me, afraid of what lay beyond this moment. Memorizing every plane of his body, every ridge and curve of his handsome face. I pulled in his heady scent and committed it to memory. I hoped it would last the rest of my years and would help get me through the days to come.
Pulling myself back from him, I kept my fingers intertwined with his. I turned to go, but a hand landed on my arm and I followed it up to a concerned face. Arlen was his devastatingly handsome self, but too serious for his own good.
“Be well. Remember that you have friends should you ever have need of them.”
I settled my hand over his and smiled up at him. He would take good care of Angie for me. I hadn’t missed the tender way he held her when getting her to safety. He was exactly what she would need, the calm to her chaotic storm.
The Baron held many secrets, a mystery yet to be solved. Maybe the biggest of all was what exactly it was that he wanted with me as his bride and Queen. It was one mystery that I was going to endeavor to solve during my time in the land of the dead. It was time to go and fulfill my destiny. I had done what I’d set out to do and now it was time to go. I tried to think of it as a new beginning, turning the page to a new chapter of my life, but it was a hard pill to swallow.
The Baron grew impatient waiting for me. His heavy breaths interrupted the last tender moment I would have with Rhys. Standing up erectly, he straightened his jacket and began to head my way. He stopped beside me and glared down on Rhys in a disgusted fashion before encircling his cool long fingers around my arm. He turned us to leave.
My fingers slipped from Rhys grip as the Baron pulled me away towards the portal. Rhys’s fists were balled tightly at his sides, keeping him from reaching out and taking me back by force. Every step carried me farther from where I wanted to be more than anything in this world or the next. I had to be strong, for the both of us. The last thing I saw before the blackness and chill of the portal closed behind the Baron and me, was Rhys’s pained and tortured face; his heart was breaking. I knew, because mine was too.
EPILOGUE
The Baron had deposited his soon to be bride in her chambers within his thick walled palace and retreated towards his own sanctuary. The poor, pathetic creature had been on the brink of hysterics and sniffling through her silent sobs the entire trip. Nothing had changed in the woman’s demeanor between the short journey and their parting of ways.
His thick, leather boots echoed off of the stone walls as he made his way down the hallway to his own chambers. Servants scattered in fear of capturing his notice, always keeping their heads down and eyes averted. Periodic sconces anchored to the walls lit the way. He slipped inside his bed chamber and shut the door silently behind him, making sure no one was in the hallway outside.
Yes, everything was falling into place nicely. The girl would play her part, he was sure of it. She didn’t know any differently anyways.
The Baron picked up the large moonstone amulet from its place tucked away safely in the back of his bedside table’s drawer. He ran his fingers over the intricate runes woven around the silver bones holding the stone in place.
“Oh, Brigitte, why couldn’t you have seen things my way? A marriage is supposed to be about compromise, not a betrayal.”
He wished the woman who had held his heart for millennia would have been more understanding, but no. She had a conscience that guided her down a different path, threatening everything he had planned.
Drake had nearly blown everything to hell with his scared proclamations in front of Maya. He had to be dealt with before he got wise and clued the girl in. As for the girl, well, she was promised to him. He had held up his end of the bargain with Mistress Laveau, a difficult negotiator, that one. Now, he was finally getting what was owed to him. It benefitted all parties involved, except for maybe Maya, but she would be comfortable nonetheless. That was his reasoning. After well over one hundred years, it was deeply ingrained and he had long since felt the pangs of guilt and remorse over his actions.
A loud knock at the door brought him back to the moment. He walked to the door, annoyed by the interruption. Cracking the door ajar, he peered out at a familiar face. It was Papa Legba.
“What do you mean by bringing the girl here?” he demanded.
T
he Baron smiled, giving the Loa a glimpse of his perfect, white teeth. He would be more than happy to tell Papa Legba exactly what Maya was doing there.
Yes, everything was falling into place in a lovely fashion, indeed.
About Victoria Flynn
Victoria Flynn lives in Michigan with her husband and two young daughters. Though she has many hobbies, traveling and reading are her passions. Her days are spent working towards her Bachelor’s degree at the University of Michigan and writing fantastical stories when she’s not being a full time mom and wife. She was in her senior year of college when her husband gave her the final push of encouragement to write her stories down to share with everyone else. It is that same push from which A Soul’s Sacrifice was born.
