by Debra Kristi
“Souls, you silly child. He requires more powerful, energetic souls.” She lunges forward and sneers, exposing long, pointy canine teeth. My heart squeezes to a stop and my breath catches. Vampire!
Chapter Fifteen
With a blink, she is at my back, her hands on my shoulders and her nose at my neck. “You smell like a nice battery,” she says.
A small truck rumbles to a stop a few feet away. The toothy girl relaxes, pulls a breath away, and runs her hands down the length of my arms. A short, older man gets out of the truck, throws a curious glance our direction, and makes his way to the cemetery gate, keys in hand. He grabs the gate, and it swings open freely.
It must be nine o’clock. The cemetery is now open to the public.
The man pushes it open all the way and glances inside the cemetery, looking left and right. Turning back toward us with a perplexed expression, he scratches his head, shoves the keys back in his pocket.
The girl spins toward the old man, dragging me with her in the turn. “Did you miss the news?” she says. “There’s a service today.” She bares her teeth.
Clear understanding registers in the tightening of his muscles, widening of his eyes, wobble of his head, and the rush of his feet, carrying quickly back to his truck. He drives away, sparing us one swift glimpse before disappearing.
The sound of quiet conversation carries from the cemetery to the sidewalk. The funeral party is approaching.
A swoosh of wind blinds me. Encircles me. A whirl of black, tainted with a thin streak of red. “If you value your life, heed my words. This cemetery is not your territory to tread. Do not venture forth under the light of the moon for that is the witching hour of the death king.”
The girl vanishes.
I spin in a circle, searching. Catch sight of her a block up, walking away from me. She doesn’t look back.
The soft voices of Luna’s mom and another increase in volume. Walk my way. Suspecting that, when the family steps onto the sidewalk, they will turn left, head back toward Luna’s house, I walk the opposite direction, away from my chained bike. Position myself against the far side of the next utility post, using it for partial cover.
The group steps clear of the cemetery and turns away from me, as I had expected… hoped… counted on. Luna’s mom walks between two others. One set of Luna’s grandparents. Be it her mom’s or dad’s, I don’t know. They have their heads together in quiet conversation. The other set of grandparents walks beside the man I suspect is Luna’s uncle. The elderly woman clings to Luna’s arm.
As they turn, walk away, Luna glances back, her gaze zeroing in on my bike, still chained to the post just outside the cemetery entrance. Her gaze flickers upward, searching the surrounding area, looking for me. And find me, she does.
She turns back to her grandmother, whispers something in her ear, then turns away and runs toward me. Her family keeps walking.
Luna stops with a soft crash into the post. She clings to the opposite side and peers around the wood at me. “Tell me,” she says.
“I’m sorry I messed up your father’s service.” I drop my head.
“No. I know,” she says. “Not that. Tell me what you know. Why you questioned my dad’s death.”
“Did you check… before he was placed in the vault?” I rest my cheek against the side of the post. She does the same, and our faces are but inches apart.
“My uncle did. He said you were confused.” Her gaze averts to the ground. “The men are sealing the vault now, with brick and mortar.” Her head sways and her gaze rises up to meet mine once more. “But why did you even question his death?”
I flex my fingers on the wood of the post. My fingers are a mere fraction of a space from the tip of hers, and the energy exchange between us, combined with the electrical force running through the wires above, sends waves and sparks through my internal system.
“It was just something my grandma said.” I contemplate my experience from a few minutes ago. “And some girl I probably shouldn’t listen to.” I add. Half-lie, not wanting to cause Luna more pain than she has already suffered. Besides, what if my suspicions are off base and I am totally wrong?
The toothy girl’s words play in my mind. “…under the light of the moon… the witching hour of the death king.” I’ll check it out for myself tonight, and if I’m not wrong and Luna’s dad isn’t dead, I’ll come clean.
“Luna?” Mrs. Flores’ voice chimes. Luna glances back and tosses a wave.
“I have to go. Funeral day and all.” She frowns. Leans deeper into the post. “I wish you could come, but after what happened, I don’t think it would be a good idea.”
“I get that.” I, too, lean deeper into the post, matching her stance.
“Can I see you later?” she asks, and the hint of Listerine washes over me. “I can try to get away this evening, and we can meet somewhere. Like the diner from our first meeting.”
“Not the diner,” I say and glance past her to her awaiting family. They are standing at the corner, waiting to cross the street. I bite my lip. Think about the problems at home. “I need to attend to my mom. I don’t know what my schedule will end up being.” My gaze blurs.
Her hand drops over mine, and my attention focuses on her.
“I’ll try to stop by later.” Her eyes widen, causing me to smile. “I won’t come in,” I assure. “I’ll leave you some sort of message or code, and you can come outside.”
Her eyes tighten, then bounce wide. “I’ve got it. Lipstick on the window in the dining area. A small x or circle. Something like that.”
“Okay, good. That will be our code. If you see a lipstick something or other on your window later…” I shake my head. “It means I’m hanging around outside waiting for you.”
“Got it.” She squeezes my hand.
“Luna!” Mrs. Flores’ voice strikes through the air like a lead pipe.
“Coming,” Luna calls. “See you later,” she whispers to me, then turns and jogs to her family.
I remain behind the utility post, watching until the family is out of sight.
When I’m certain they can’t look back and see me, I unlock my bike and head for home. There are things I need to do, and things I need to know. Clearly, Grandma won’t be much, if any, help. Not if this morning is any indication. But Miri… Miri knows the toothy girl, so maybe, just maybe, she can shed some light on the current situation regarding the death king and souls being used as batteries.
My legs pump at a quick pace, getting me back to Grandma’s in a relatively quick time. I’m anxious to change into something more comfortable and less formal.
“Hello,” I call and move through the first floor. Head up the stairs. On the second floor, I find Miri’s cat, Bastian, waiting at the door to my old bedroom.
He turns his pleading eyes on me and yowls, begging to be allowed into the room.
“Sorry, big guy,” I say and rub his head. “Grandma had you removed from the room for a reason.” He replies with a sad sounding meow.
On the other side of the door, my mom is being held captive. Only, I can’t hear her screams of irritation and frustration because of Grandma’s soundproofing spell. I reach for the doorknob, but before I am able to grab it, the door swings open.
“Oh, hey,” Miri says. “We weren’t expecting you home until later.” She opens the door wider, and both she and Grandma step out into the hallway.
No screams or nasty remarks slip through the open door.
“Things didn’t go exactly as planned.” I peer around them and try to see into the room. “Is Mom actually quiet or does the soundproof spell work even with the door open?”
“Your mother is sleeping,” Grandma says and steps out of the way, allowing me a clear view. Bastian rushing through the opening.
Mom is sleeping. Her skin is also blotchy, and she is sweating profusely. I push forward, into the room. “What’s wrong with her?”
“The house is attempting to break her fever, so to speak.” Grandma s
teps up behind me.
Bastian inches toward the bed in slow, stalking strides, a constant growl rumbling in his throat.
“No, no, Bastie.” Miri picks him up and deposits him in the hallway. Closes the door.
“Are we just going to leave her like this?” I throw out my arm, motioning to my mom’s overheating body.
“For now,” Grandma says.
“We just cleaned her up, and she’s already sweaty,” Miri adds.
I spin toward her. “Really? Just?”
“Yep. We washed her down and everything.”
“Do you think Caleb still has his hooks in her?” I ask.
“My guess is it’s too soon for her to be free of any such influence.” Grandma sighs. “The magick was powerful. The influence, strong. This will not be solved in a day.”
“If only they could be,” Miri muses.
Grandma ushers us out into the hallway where Miri thwarts another attempt by the cat to slip into the room. She scoops Bastian into her arms, rubs his back, and talks sweetly to him. Making her excuses, she climbs the stairs to her room on the third floor, taking the cat with her.
“I’m sorry things didn’t go as planned at today’s service,” Grandma says to me. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
“Not particularly.” I sigh and with the motion, allow my shoulders to hunch. Grandma nods and turns for the stairs to the first level. “It’s just…” I continue. She stops and turns to face me once more. “All that stuff you said about the bokor got stuck in my head. I couldn’t let it go, and I disrupted the service, fearful that Luna’s dad wasn’t really dead, because the bokor wouldn’t let him out of his contract so easily.”
“Oh dear.” Grandma’s lips pull tight to the side, creating a pucker in her left cheek. She shakes her head and enwraps me in her embrace. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to plant bad thoughts in your head.”
“But what if, on some level, I’m right,” I say. “And Luna’s dad is still ensnarled in the bokor’s debt web?”
Grandma steps back, her hands held firmly to my upper arms. “You shouldn’t allow yourself to think about things you have no power to change,” she says. “I told you before, and I will tell you again, you’re best to stay out of any and all bokor business.”
“But Luna is my friend.” I pout.
“And her father made his own choices, likely fully aware of the possible consequences.” Her gaze into my eyes is solid and unwavering. I stare back and choose to keep any responses to myself. She glances over my black funeral dress. “Why don’t you go change. We can talk more about this later.”
I sigh, spin on the pads of my feet, and march up the spiral staircase to the third level.
On the third level, there is a decent-sized landing which has become Miri’s personal closet. A large room which serves as Miri’s bedroom. And another, smaller room where Grandma shoves all the items displaced by the home downsize.
Bastian is sprawled out across Miri’s bed, and she sits beside him, running her fingers back and forth through his fur. The cat appears to be in a state of bliss. His eyes are closed, and his purr can be heard from the doorway.
“I met an old acquaintance of yours today.” I drop on the bed, placing the cat between us. His eyes blink open, his expression one of annoyance. He’s not pleased with the jostling of the bed. I rub his head as an apology.
“Really?” Miri says, not looking up. She’s rubbing and rubbing Bastian, and I almost think I see a touch of orange glow along the end of her fingertips. Of course, that can’t be the case because Miri has sworn off all magick.
“Yep,” I say, choosing not to address any use of magick on her part. “A pale girl with black and red hair. Has fangs.” I lift my hands to the side of my face and make the universal symbol for ready-to-bite-you teeth.
Miri sits straight, and the color drains from her face.
“That bad, huh?” I say.
“Where did you see her?” Miri asks, then continues, not waiting for my response. “You should stay away from her. She’s bad news.”
Everyone keeps telling me I should stay away from things. My blood warms, and I sense the need to fight rising within me.
“She said something about humans, or souls rather, being used as batteries,” I say.
“Gross,” Miri blurts. “And freaky.”
“You think? Most everything about her was freaky,” I say. “She told me to ask you about the candle.”
Miri shakes her head. “The candle is just a stupid joke she played on me, before I understood what we all are.” She rubs between Bastian’s ears. “The real story involving her is the dark and skanky bar she tricked me into entering.”
“She tricked you into going into a bar… in New Orleans? Seriously, Miri? There are three or more bars per block in the French Quarter.”
“Slight exaggeration,” she quips. “But this bar was filled with people roleplaying as vampires. And they all got into their acts far too much.”
“Are you sure they were roleplaying?” I ask. If witches are real, why not vampires… and ghosts, and whatever other supernatural creatures have been questioned over the ages?
Miri falls silent, and a thin curved line presses into her forehead. “At the time…”
“At the time you didn’t know you were a witch, right?” I say. “And Mom had our heads all a muddled mess.” I wave my hands at the side of my kinky locks. “Now we know what we are and we have a demonized or cursed Mom locked in the bedroom downstairs.”
“True.” She nods.
Bastian rolls onto his back, exposing his belly.
“The girl knew about Caleb. I mean,” I fluster. “She didn’t say she knew about Mom’s condition, but she said she knew I had firsthand contact with Caleb.”
“Seriously?” Miri balks.
I nod. “And she wanted me to give him a message.”
“Which is?” Miri prompts.
“She wants me to tell him that his boss wants more batteries, .i.e., souls.”
“Caleb’s boss?” Miri asks. “Wasn’t that the voodoo priest?”
“Maybe?” I don’t really know. I wasn’t a hundred percent in the loop when the whole Caleb thing exploded. “Would that be the same voodoo priest with loose ties to the bokor?”
“How would I know?” Her hands fly out at her side.
“Yeah. I guess you wouldn’t.” my shoulders drop.
Miri’s brow pinches, and her hand flies to her forehead. Presses.
“You alright?” I ask, leaning forward.
“I’ll be fine,” she says. “I just sometimes get these ancestral deep headaches. They can be a real monster to wrestle down.” She rubs her temples. Blinks wide. “Do you think we should deliver the message to Mom and see what happens?”
“You don’t think that would be dangerous?” I jerk back and blink twice.
Miri shakes her head and releases a heavy breath. “Yeah. You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. Don’t do that. It probably isn’t safe.”
“Yeah, I won’t.” I slip from the bed and glance over her. “You okay?” I ask. “How’s the baby?”
Her face brightens. “Nara is good. She just makes me tired a lot.” She rubs her belly and lays back on the bed.
“You should rest then,” I say. “I’m going to go downstairs. Continue my conversation with Grandma.”
“Okay.” Miri closes her eyes and appears peaceful. Bastian gets up, turns in a circle, adjusts his location, and curls at my sister’s side.
With a half-smile tugging the curve of my face, I return to the second floor and stand outside of my old room.
I shouldn’t do it. Shouldn’t tempt the bad, I think.
But, the curiosity. The need to know.
I open the door. Step into the room.
Chapter Sixteen
Mom’s tired gaze follows me into the room. She is awake and sits partially propped up with pillows.
“Belle. Mirabelle,” she says. “Why are you do
ing this to me? Is this the person I raised you to be?” She looks and sounds like my mom. But then, the devil is a trickster. So is Caleb.
“Mom?” I ask and circle deeper into the room.
“Of course. Who else would I be?” She wiggles against her bindings.
“Caleb.” I lean forward, as far as I dare, and study her features. She rolls her eyes but chooses not to comment on my accusation. “To answer your question,” I continue. “You raised me to be smart, resilient, and caring… for myself and the ones I love.”
Her gaze flickers up to me, yet she appears less than loving. There is something. Something unsavory lurking behind her green eyes.
I stand straight and try to wipe all emotion from my face. I pin my piercing stare on my mom and refuse to blink. “Your boss requested I give you a message.”
Mom’s head jerks, and her tight glare flies to me. The edge of her lips twitch.
My lips pull tight. The knowledge firming within me. Caleb is still very much present.
“He says he wants, or maybe it was needs, more batteries.”
A wide and wicked smile spreads across my Mom’s lips. My face tightens and skin warms. I spin and march for the door.
“Please, Belle.” Mom’s voice calls at my back. “Don’t leave me like this. Untie me. Let me go.”
My hand grabs the door handle.
“Michael was here earlier today,” she continues. “He knows this is me, and that I’m fine. Why can’t you see that?”
Tricks and lies.
I throw open the door and step out of the room.
Go make myself some lunch and camp out in front of the television.
When the streetlights flicker to life, I grab my jacket and sneak out the back door. Jump on my bike and head to Luna’s. It’s a bit of a ride, but I don’t mind. It allows me plenty of time to untangle the web of thoughts clouding my brain.
Humans being used as batteries for what? So that a witch… or voodoo priest… can tap in, crank up their magick, their power? Is that the destiny set for Luna’s dad? What if it is? What could I do to stop that from happening?
And dang it, if Caleb’s presence in Mom doesn’t seem as strong now as it did yesterday.
