by Jana DeLeon
Mallory swallowed and blinked. "You know me?"
The woman nodded. "I remember you as a small child. Your uncle brought you to me, hoping I could remove the curse.
Mallory's head whirled. "What curse? I don't understand." She pointed at the doll. "I just found this ... what do you mean? It was there when I was a child?"
The voodoo woman shook her head. "That doll protects the man who commissioned the curse on your mother ... the curse that was put on her when you were still in the womb. There was an anger in him that couldn't be sated. It's still there - an open wound-even after all these years."
"My mother knew?"
"Your mother came to me after the curse was put upon her. The creator had reasonable skill, but nothing that could match my own. I easily removed the curse from your mother, but I told her that I couldn't remove the curse from you until your birth. I told her to call when she was in labor - that I would come and all would be well."
"She never called?" Mallory stared at the woman, a feeling of dread creeping over her. "My own mother? She left me this way on purpose?"
The voodoo woman nodded. "I'm sorry, child, but even your name gives her thoughts away. Mallory is old French for ‘unlucky."'
Jake rose from the circle to stand beside Mallory. "Isn't there something you can do?"
"There is nothing to be done. The curse has been a part of Mallory for so long that it has a life of its own. In order to take one life, you'd have to take the other."
Mallory stared at her, a faint memory forming in the back of her mind. She was young, not even five, traveling deep into the bayou with her uncle. She remembered the candles arranged in a clearing-in this clearing-and the warm blood of a chicken dripping across her forehead as she lay in a circle drawn on the ground."
"My uncle, he brought me here," Mallory said.
"Yes. He did the best he could. It was simply too late."
Mallory's heart fell at the woman's words. "So there is no hope."
The voodoo woman looked at her, sadness evident in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, child."
Mallory nodded and gestured to the doll in the circle. "What about the doll? Did the same person who put the curse on me put the protection spell on the doll?"
The voodoo woman shook her head. "The protection spell was placed on the doll by the man you took it from. He has very limited skill, but protecting himself from the curse he commissioned is something within his ability."
"And the guy who did the original curse on my mother ... is he still around?"
"That man passed from this life many years ago in a most unpleasant fashion. He's spending his next life paying for his transgressions in this one."
Mallory stared at the woman for a moment, her mind conjuring up all kinds of visuals with hell and fire and no light. "What should be done with the doll?"
The voodoo woman looked at the doll and motioned for them to step aside. "The doll should be destroyed, but it needs to be done properly. You're welcome to watch, but I need you to step away from the circle."
The four of them backed away from the circle until they stood about ten feet away. "That's far enough," the voodoo woman said, and she reached into her bag, brought out a chicken and held it up over the doll.
"What the hell is she doing with that chicken?" Jake whispered.
"You probably don't want to know," Mallory replied, and turned just in time to place one hand over Amy's mouth as the voodoo woman drew a knife across the chicken's throat.
Her hand muffled the worst of Amy's scream, but Scooter's "Jesus Christ Almighty" carried across the bayou and probably all the way back to downtown Royal Flush.
Mallory removed her hand from Amy's mouth and focused her attention on the voodoo woman as she shook blood from the chicken onto the doll.
"I don't think PETA knows about this," Jake whispered.
Mallory nodded but didn't take her eyes off the scene in front of her. The air around them was still as death, but inside the circle, the voodoo woman's robes began to ripple. The candle's flame flickered back and forth and the dust stirred around the doll.
Mallory sensed rather than felt the shift in the atmosphere around them as the voodoo woman raised her arms in the air and started chanting. The wind in the circle grew stronger and stronger, until the woman's robe and hair billowed around her in a frenzied dance of black and silver. The flame on the candle whipped back and forth as a roll of thunder echoed around them.
Suddenly, a beam of light came down from the sky, lighting up the circle. Mallory watched as the doll began to glow. The voodoo woman chanted louder and shook the chicken in the bright light.
"Oh, my God," Amy said as smoke began to rise from the doll.
Mallory watched in fascination as the smoke began in a thin stream, growing thicker with each passing moment.
At the exact moment the voodoo woman stopped chanting, the doll exploded into flames, the candle blew out, and the light from the sky disappeared, leaving them in total darkness.
Mallory felt Jake's hand squeeze hers and figured she wasn't the only one who wanted to bolt. Unfortunately, there was the small issue of not being able to see even a foot in front of them. And probably no one wanted to risk running into the voodoo woman ... or the chicken. Just when Mallory decided she was going to start inching backward until she reached the car, the flame from the candle began to flicker and slowly light crept into the clearing until the entire area was basked in a dim yellow glow.
The voodoo woman still stood in the center of the circle, but the chicken was nowhere in sight and all that remained of the doll was a pile of ash. Good riddance, Mallory thought and breathed a sigh of relief. The voodoo woman stepped out of the circle and walked over to stand in front of her.
"This doll can trouble you no more, but the man you fear has already replaced it with another that is identical. Its power is weak. The man who owns it is not strong in the craft. Within a couple of days it will be of no concern to you."
"Thank you," Mallory said. "You have no idea how grateful I am. For tonight ... and for trying all those years ago."
The voodoo woman nodded. "If you need me for anything, I live in a cabin just off the point where you and the other man fish for speckled trout." She reached over and touched Mallory's forehead with her thumb. "Live well, Mallory Devereaux. This is my wish for you."
She glanced at the others and gave them a brief nod before walking toward the woods, a dim glow surrounding her. She'd only walked fifteen feet or so before the glow faded and she seemed to vanish before their eyes.
Mallory blinked and squinted in the darkness. Where the hell did she go?
"Show's over," Scooter said. "I say it's time to get the hell out of here." He looked over at Amy. "Would you mind giving me a ride home? I figure those two might want to talk."
Amy looked over at Mallory, her expression thoughtful. "If you need anything," she said. "Anything at all, you call me. It doesn't matter what time."
Mallory nodded and smiled at her friend. "Thanks for everything, Amy. You're a great friend and I'm lucky to have you."
Amy smiled. "That makes two of us." She gave Jake a wave and headed to her car, Scooter following close behind.
Mallory watched as Amy backed up and pulled away from the clearing, then she turned to Jake. "Looks like you got a bit more than you bargained for with this investigation."
Jake looked at her, slowly shaking his head. "It's all so unbelievable. Every single bit of it." He glanced back at the circle. "What do you think happened to the chicken? I didn't see her holding it when she left."
Mallory shrugged. "I hadn't even thought about it again. Maybe she had it the bag."
Jake grimaced. "I like fried chicken as much as the next guy, but it will be a while before I indulge in a bucket of KFC."
Jake started to speak a million different times on the drive back to Mallory's house, but there were simply no words that could convey what he felt. Hell, he didn't even know what he felt. He was angry and
sad and frustrated and heartbroken, all at the same time. The emotions warred inside him, each canceling the other out and leaving him with nothing to say to the woman sitting next to him.
"I'm sorry" seemed so limited, so futile.
After what seemed like an eternity, they pulled up in front of Mallory's house. He parked his car behind her truck but made no move to exit, instead stared out over the bayou.
"Your parents," he finally started, "where are they now?"
There was only silence for a long time and for a moment, Jake was afraid she wasn't going to answer. Finally, she sighed and said one simple word. "Dead."
Jake looked over at her, a bit surprised by her answer. Mallory's parents couldn't have been very old when they passed, and although her answer meant there wasn't a set of people out there that he needed to throttle with his bare hands, he felt somewhat disappointed that the people who'd done this to Mallory had gotten away with it all.
"My father died in prison," Mallory said, her voice barely a whisper. "He cheated the wrong guy at cards and took a shank in the back. My mother was never the same after that. She wasted away to almost nothing inside of a year's time and finally died in a mental institution in New Orleans."
Mallory turned to face Jake. "She always blamed me, you know. For everything bad that happened to them - their schemes going wrong, my father going to prison. Now I know why."
Jake shook his head. "She was wrong. You didn't bring bad luck on them - they created all that for themselves with the life they chose. You know that."
"Maybe. Or maybe letting me become what I am came back on them like some great karmic debt."
"Maybe," Jake agreed. "Although it still doesn't seem like enough." He took her hand in his and squeezed. "I just can't imagine a parent doing that. It's so far from what I know."
"It ought to be," Mallory said simply, then turned to face him. "Tell me about your parents. I want to know something personal about you, Jake McMillan."
"Randoll."
"Huh?" Mallory looked at him, obviously confused.
"My real name is Jake Randoll. I really am from Atlantic City. My mother is a retired schoolteacher. My father was a cop."
"Was?"
"Yeah. He was killed in the line of duty when I was eight."
"I'm sorry," Mallory said, and squeezed his hand. "That must have been hard for you and your mother."
Jake nodded. "It was awful. My dad, he was the best, the best husband, the best father. And my mother ... left alone with me to raise ... I don't think she ever really got the chance to grieve."
Mallory reached up to cup Jake's cheek. "He would have been proud of you. Proud of the man his son became. I'm sure your mother is."
Jake looked at her and couldn't help but want her .. . her hair shimmering in the glow of moonlight, her green eyes sparkling as she looked at him ... her touch so gentle against his skin. Never had he thought another woman could possess the fortitude, the intelligence that his mother had shown all those years, raising her son to be a man. But Mallory Devereaux brought new meaning to the word strength. Her entire life was a testament to that.
Placing his arms around her, he drew her in close to him, lowering his head to press his lips against her. She tasted of raspberry and even though he'd seen her swipe the lip gloss across her lips at the poker table, the flavor seemed so sensual, so Mallory. Unable to stop himself, he ran his tongue across her lips, tasting every bit of the sweetness.
She leaned into him and dropped her hand to his chest, running it along the length of his torso. The light pressure of her fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt made him start to stiffen. She didn't stop her journey at his waistband as he'd thought she would. When she grazed her hand over the top of his jeans, she almost finished him off.
Surely the voodoo woman was wrong, he thought as he left her lips to kiss the hollow of her neck and down the front of her chest. Mallory wasn't cursed-she was a witch. It was the only way to explain the way he felt when he was with her-as if every nerve in his body were on fire, as if nothing at all mattered any more except touching every square inch of her and burying himself deep inside her.
He moved one hand underneath her shirt and cupped her bare breast, amazed again at her body that was so full and firm at the same time. He grabbed the bottom of her T-shirt with both hands and relieved her upper body of the garment. Breasts that perfect just cried to be free and he wanted to be the man to accommodate them.
He tossed the shirt in the backseat and descended on her chest with both hand and mouth, causing her to groan. She paid him back by opening his jeans and slipping her hand inside, stroking the hard length of him until he thought he would burst from the pleasure.
"I'm going to try to take things slower this time, but I'm not promising success," he said as he tugged at the closure on her jeans, silently willing the tight garment to let go.
"That makes two of us," she teased.
The tiny strip of pink lace posing as underwear hardly presented a logistics problem. They were so damned sexy, he left them on, then threaded one finger around them and ran it down the tiny strip of fabric.
"It's not Sunday," he said, and he pulled the fabric back gently and pressed his finger into her hot, moist center.
Mallory moaned as he stroked her. "Who the hell cares?"
Jake smiled down at her. "You said you only wore underwear on Sunday." He slipped one finger inside of her, still stroking her sensitive nub with his thumb.
Her grip on him tightened and she sucked in a breath. "I promise to wear them every day if this is the treatment I get," she whispered, increasing the pressure and speed of her strokes with every word until he thought he would explode.
He put his hand over hers. "You've got to stop or I won't have anything left," he said as he continued to stroke her.
"But you're not stopping," she tried to protest, but it wasn't much of a fight.
"Yes, but I'm making the rules," he whispered, and leaned over to take her nipple in his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the engorged flesh in complete synchronicity with the stroke of his finger below. It was only a matter of seconds before her breathing quickened, and he felt her body contract around his finger.
She cried out when the orgasm washed over her and dug her fingers into his shoulders. He waited a moment for the trembling in her body to stop before removing his finger and raising his head to look at her.
She gave him the lazy smile of a completely satisfied woman, then pushed him back onto his side of the car and straddled him. "My turn," she said, and lowered herself onto him in a single fluid stroke.
He almost lost it the moment he entered her and had to struggle to regain control. He'd just managed to stave off the worst of the embarrassment when she started her motion, rolling her hips back and forth in a slow, rhythmic dance, and he had to concentrate again on holding himself back.
She dropped her hands to his chest and ran them across his nipples. He was momentarily surprised at the pleasure that shot through him with her touch, and he sucked in a breath as she lowered her head and circled the nipple with her tongue.
"Touch my breasts," she instructed as she increased her hip motion. "Both hands."
He couldn't comply fast enough. Both hands shot up eagerly to encase her breasts and she threw back her head and moaned. Even though he didn't think it possible, her reaction made him even hotter, and he lowered his head to take an engorged nipple into his mouth, suckling on it gently. She responded by tightening her body around him like a glove, increasing the friction and speed until he couldn't hold back any longer.
"Come with me," he whispered, and took her breast into his mouth once more.
"Yes," she replied, and he felt her body begin to spasm, as she took him deeper inside of her.
The orgasm burst through him like lightning, hitting so hard it actually made him dizzy. He could feel Mallory's body around him, growing tight then loose and her legs shook with the strength of their finish. Finall
y, she became still and leaned against him, her breasts pressed against his bare chest, her heart racing right alongside his own.
He felt the car rumble and the sounds of roaring in his ears and for a second, he thought it was a backlash of previously released energy, but at the sound of the second rumble, he opened his eyes and looked out the windshield just as a flash of lightning lit up the bayou as clear as daylight. "It's a storm," he said.
Mallory rose limply from his chest, a satisfied smile on her face. She glanced out the passenger window. "Looks like a doozy. We'd better get inside before the bottom drops out."
She rolled off him and bounced onto the seat, reaching for her pants on the floorboard. He knew he should be dressing, but instead, he watched her slide into the tight denim, feeling his erection stir all over again. She grabbed her T-shirt from the backseat and pulled it on, her taut nipples protruding easily through the thin fabric.
She looked over at him and shook her head. "Stop grinning like an idiot and get a move on. All of me looks the same inside, I assure you." She reached for the door just as a huge burst of thunder rocked the car, causing them both to jump. Before they could make a move, a single bolt of lightning burst from the sky and struck directly through the hood of the car, spraying sparks of fire in every direction.
Chapter Sixteen
"Holy shit!" Mallory pushed the door open, jumped out into her yard and ran several feet from the car without even turning to look. Jake followed close on her heels, hoping like hell the sparks didn't singe his bare ass as he escaped.
When they turned back to look, the entire engine lit up in flames that quickly spread to rear of the car. Jake stared and shook his head. "My insurance rates are going to hit the roof over this one."
Mallory took one look at the burning car and started to giggle. As the first sound left her mouth, the rain began to pour on them as if unleashed in one big tidal wave. She laughed harder, leaning over at the waist, as the rain soaked every square inch of her.
