Legends of the Damned: A Collection of Edgy Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels

by Lindsey R. Loucks

  "I apologize, Ms. Langston, but we have no choice but to suspend Latreece for a week." Principal Kerr was short and thin. She had a sharp nose, sunken cheeks.

  "But," Granny leaned forward, "what about graduation?"

  "Assuming she's currently passing, she'll be okay as long as she turns in all her assignments when she returns." The principal looked at Latreece like she was scum and the chances of her graduating were slim. Latreece stared back at the wrinkled woman and sneered. Principal Kerr had her confused with a dummy. Latreece always made sure to do just enough work to keep a C average.

  Granny leaned back, her stress level visually dropping from a ten to a five. It was her dream to see Latreece graduate from high school. She didn't want to disappoint her grandmother. She'd stay in school, but as soon as she graduated, she planned on moving to Las Vegas, Los Angeles, or New York. She hadn't decided which state yet, but as long as it wasn't in Oklahoma, she didn't much care. Shoot, most people didn't even know blacks lived here.

  Her grandmother nodded towards the principal saying yes ma'am this and yes ma'am that. After every few nods, she would give Latreece the side-eye. A look that said, damn you girl for making me come up here and have to play nice with this lady.

  "My granddaughter knows better, and this will never happen again," Granny said with a fake smile.

  "If she gets into another fight, I'll have no choice but to expel her."

  "Why isn't Shemeya here? She started this." Latreece said, tired of staying quiet.

  "We haven't been able to track her down. And, according to the other students, you started the fight."

  "Okay, can we go now?" Granny said, trying to get Latreece away from the principal before she could get into any more trouble.

  Principal Kerr frowned like she swallowed something sour, but she took the hint. "Let me walk you out, Mrs. Langston."

  The principal walked them past the secretaries and to the main entrance. "Latreece, we'll see you in a week. Mrs. Langston, you can pick up her homework Monday morning."

  "Thank you. I swear this won't happen again."

  Latreece rolled her eyes. The sound of her grandmother cowering made Latreece's stomach churn.

  As soon as the principal was gone, all docility and smiles left Granny's face, and her right eye twitched. "Girl, what is wrong with you!" She slapped Latreece on the back of the head.

  "Ouch, Granny," Latreece said, gritting her teeth.

  "You know better than to start a fight at school. You know they're craving to kick as many black kids out of this damn place as they can."

  "But, Granny . . .

  "Don't 'but Granny' me."

  Latreece was about to 'but Granny again,' but then she saw them: Sean and Shemeya walking down the hall.

  TOGETHER!

  Shemeya held a bag of ice to her eye, and she and Sean were so engrossed with each other, they didn't see her.

  What. The. Hell?

  Latreece stormed towards them, fury boiling in her blood. Sean looked up, eyes wide with recognition and shock.

  "This is what you want, Sean?" She was so close, she could see his pores, and she imagined she smelled Shemeya all over him. "I can't even believe I wasted my time on you." She jabbed her finger into his chest. "You is a liar." She pointed at Shemeya. "And you is a ho. Y'all deserve each other."

  Having said her piece, Latreece stomped away. Her heart pounded in her ears and tears streamed down her cheeks. Sean was her first love, but she'd be damned if he was going to hurt her again.

  Granny gaped, speechless and confused.

  "You ready, Granny?" Latreece didn't stop. She left the building, hoping her grandmother would follow.

  Latreece waited next to Granny's old-ass green Mercury Valiant and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She felt as if she'd just been stabbed.

  When she saw Granny leave the building, she straightened and willed her tears away. She was not this person. She was not the type of girl to cry and lose her crap over some cheating dude.

  "Baby, what's wrong? What was that about?" The anger Granny had shown earlier was gone, and now concern and worry etched her smooth brown skin. She was forty-eight and didn't have a single wrinkle. People often thought she was her mother instead of her grandmother.

  "Can we just go, Granny?" Latreece looked towards the school. A part of her hoped she would see Sean chasing after her, but the other half hoped he wouldn't. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her crying.

  Granny hesitated for a long moment. "Okay," she said, reaching into her purse and digging through bundles of past due bills and other miscellaneous pieces of mail, make-up, and lord knows what else, while she searched for her keys.

  "Granny, hurry up," Latreece said anxiously, but it was evident Sean was not going to come after her like this was a damned romantic comedy. Forget him.

  "Here they are." Granny pulled out her keys. No less than ten keys were on her key ring, and Latreece knew she didn't know what half of the keys were for.

  The car started on the third try and En Vogue's cover of "Something He Can Feel" played through the car's weak speakers. The seats of the Mercury were old, plastic and cracked. They were covered in a thick blanket, so they didn't cut into anyone's skin. An empty coffee cup and a discarded Sonic's bag that once held an extra-long chili cheese hot dog laid on the passenger side floor.

  "Now, what's going on?" Granny asked.

  "Sean and Shemeya are what's going on," Latreece answered.

  "You and Sean were perfectly fine yesterday?"

  "That was yesterday. Today, I found out he's just another trifling ass negro, and Shemeya is a lying ass ho."

  "Watch your mouth," Granny ordered, but her tone softened a moment later. "He doesn't seem that way, and neither does Shemeya."

  "They don't, do they?" It's the innocent people you have to look out for. "They used to have a thing back in the day, and she wouldn't let it end."

  "You're in school to graduate, not date. I promised your mother before she died I'd make sure you had a good life. But it can't be all on me. You have to do your part. And that means not getting kicked out of school for stupid stuff."

  Latreece sighed and looked out the window. The sky had been overcast and threatening rain all day. It finally made good on its threat, and rain began to pelt the car. Granny switched on the windshield wipers. The cacophony of the rain and wiper blades drowned out the radio.

  Whenever Latreece got in any type of trouble or brought home a bad report card, Granny always had to mention Latreece's mother. It wasn't like her mother had been a saint. She had died of a drug overdose. Even when her mother was alive, Latreece had spent most of her time with Granny or her aunts. Anywhere was better than staying with her mother and the woman's endless string of boyfriends. Latreece shook away the bad memories and turned to her grandmother. She was the only constant in her life. Granny had always been able to make all of the nightmares and bad thoughts go away.

  "Well, he's crazy because you're much prettier than she is," Granny said.

  "Do you think he likes her better because I'm so skinny?"

  Granny tightened her grip on the steering wheel. "You're not that skinny."

  "Don't lie to me." Latreece insisted.

  "What if you are? I raised you to know that you're more than a big ass or big titties."

  "You don't understand. Boys don't like skinny girls." Girls with big butts and big titties were all they showed on music videos, and that's what all the boys wanted. Even the white girls at school had bigger butts than her.

  "If that boy don't want you 'cause your ass is flat, then you need to leave him alone because he ain't the one for you."

  Latreece stared out the window. The world looked distorted and smeared through the rain. "You're right. I don't need him." But it still freaking hurt.

  Gary England, Oklahoma's favorite weather man, waxed poetically about the latest group of thunderstorms headed their way. The smell of fried chicken, Velveeta mac and cheese, coll
ard greens, and cigarette smoke filled the apartment.

  Reassured that any threat of a tornado was at least thirty minutes away, Latreece turned the station. Martin Lawrence, dressed as a big, ugly, buck-tooth woman, wagged his long neon-painted nails in front of a woman's face. Latreece laughed when Shenaenae started windmilling her fists hitting nothing but air.

  Since her suspension on Friday afternoon, all Latreece had done was eat, sleep, and watch TV. Vegging out in front of the television was the only thing that helped her forget about Sean's cheating ass. And that was how she planned to spend her entire suspension. Anyone else would gain weight after two days of this, but she'd probably end up weighing less by the time she was allowed back into school.

  Thunder rattled the windows, and for two long heartbeats, everything in the apartment went black. Just as the light popped back on, two figures burst through the front door.

  Granny ran from the kitchen screaming, and Latreece jumped from the couch, heart beating out of her chest.

  "Damn what's wrong with y'all?" asked Aunt Khandi and Aunt Tasha, Granny's other two daughters. Aunt Khandi was a big-boned woman, who always wore red lipstick two shades too bright for her dark skin. Her younger sister had the same dark complexion as Khandi, but Aunt Tasha was shorter with fewer curves.

  "Y'all don't know how to knock?" Granny held a greasy fork in her hand and specks of flour stained her chin. "Y'all scared the hell out of us."

  "I wasn't scared," Latreece lied, sitting back on the couch with her heart still thumping.

  "Girl, please. I heard you scream too," said Aunt Khandi.

  "Damn, it's raining hard out there." Aunt Tasha took off her floor-length denim jacket stained so dark with rain that it could have easily been soaked with blood instead of water.

  "Latreece, where is the tornado right now?" Aunt Khandi asked, paying more attention to the TV than her rain-soaked coat.

  Latreece flipped the TV station back to Gary England. "No tornadoes yet. Just rain."

  A second later, Benita and Aaliyah came through the door carrying grocery bags. "Why y'all close the door on us? Damn," Benita said.

  "Sorry. Y'all slow." Aunt Tasha plopped down on the couch next to Latreece.

  "Y'all could have helped get some of the bags out of the car," Aaliyah said.

  "Why? I had kids so I wouldn't have to carry another bag or wash another dish in my life." Aunt Khandi took off her coat and hung it behind a chair in the dining room.

  Latreece stood, took a bag from Benita and placed it on the kitchen table.

  Benita and Aaliyah were thirteen months apart. They had two brothers, but when their parents had split three years ago, the boys had chosen to live with their dad.

  As soon as the food was put away, the three girls escaped to Latreece's room to let the adults finish cooking.

  Latreece's Gold n' Hot flat iron sat on her vanity table alongside a jar of hair gel and a bottle of Tommy Hilfiger perfume. "Just Kicking It," the R&B song by Xscape, played on the radio, drowning out Gary England's weather report from the living room.

  Benita and Aaliyah had brought some weed over to help Latreece with her break up. She took a puff of the joint, closed her eyes, and let herself relax. When Latreece was sixteen, Granny had given them permission to smoke weed, as long as they did it at home and stayed away from hard liquor and hard drugs.

  Latreece had been crying on and off for the past two days, whenever the TV shows were not good enough to make her forget about Sean, but as she smoked, the stress and hurt eased.

  "You know. I don't mind if black dudes date white girls. But what pisses me off . . ." Benita paused and took the joint from Latreece. "I can't stand the ones who only date white girls. I don't understand that crap." Benita puffed, held her breath for a few seconds and exhaled. She sat at the vanity, above everyone. Her long braids were tied back in one ponytail.

  "Why are you worried about Andre? He stupid. Let the white girls have him," Latreece said, thinking more about Sean than Andre, as she sat on her bedspread with her back against the wall.

  "He's cute, though." Aaliyah accepted the joint from Benita. "And he is one of the only black dudes that's into something other than being a thug." She sat on the carpet leaning her back against the mattress. It had been a gift from Aunt Khandi after her sons had left with their dad, but there was no bedframe, so it sat directly on the floor. Both Aaliyah and Benita were Aunt Khandi's children, but where Benita took after her mother, Aaliyah was more like Aunt Tasha, short and curvy.

  The sisters fought like cats and dogs. You could never tell what would set either off. Latreece had wanted a sister until Benita's and Aaliyah's fights became unbearable. From what Latreece observed, Benita was fiercely jealous of Aaliyah. If something good happened to Aaliyah, Benita wouldn't say anything at first. She'd let one or two days pass before she'd blow up over something small and silly. During their fights, there would be windmilling punches, piles of hair, scratched faces, and bloody noses.

  "Andre's only interested in girls and basketball. That does not make him a deep thinker," Latreece said.

  "But he could make it out of the hood, though," Aaliyah said.

  "This is not the hood, and you is shallow," Benita said.

  "You don't know hood until you've lived on the east side," Latreece corrected her.

  "Yeah, yeah, Latreece, we all know you're hard 'cause you lived a minute on the east side. But still, I want a man with money. I'm tired of being poor." Aaliyah took a long, exaggerated puff. Instead of relaxing, weed always pepped Aaliyah up and made her more talkative. Her gaze narrowed and settled on Latreece. "So what's up with Sean and Shemeya? Are they official now?"

  "Forget Sean," Latreece exclaimed. "If that dreadlocked bitch wants him, she can have him."

  Aaliyah said, "I still can't believe Shemeya is that devious. She's always been so cool."

  "She can have him if he's that easily got," Latreece said. Granny said time heals all wounds. Now, Latreece just had to do her time. She puffed the joint, the heat burned her chest, but she held it there, reveling in the pain before she exhaled. Through the haze of smoke, Latreece focused on Aaliyah. "Why does your skin look so different?"

  Aaliyah's smile lit up her face. "It's about time you bitches noticed. I went to Crazy Jade, and she gave me an herb that cleared my skin."

  "Granny is gonna get you once she finds out. You know how she feels about witchcraft. Sean even told me to stay away from her," Latreece said.

  "Forget Sean. Witch or not, the stuff she gave me cleared my skin." Aaliyah turned to the vanity and ran her hands along the side of her face, admiring her reflection in the mirror.

  "I don't know if it's science or witchcraft, but I heard she turned Old Mr. John's gray hair black, and she gave Miss Dorothy something to help her lose twenty pounds," Benita added.

  "But what about your soul?" Latreece asked in a low whisper, thinking Granny would come through the door at any moment and condemn them for talking about witchcraft.

  Benita shook her head. "The weed is making you paranoid. Granny is superstitious. You can't believe everything she says."

  Latreece perked up. "Do you think Crazy Jade can make my butt bigger?"

  Benita and Aaliyah exchanged glances before they burst out laughing. "I don't think there is anything you can do about that crap," Aaliyah said. "Besides, if you want to be a model and make money, the last thing you want is a big butt."

  Monday morning, on her first full day of suspension, Latreece found herself outside of the witch's apartment. Granny left to refill her diabetes medicine. The storms from Saturday night were long gone, and the sticky, hot weather had returned. Industrial sized lawnmowers whirred somewhere near the back of Vista Apartments, and the air was thick with the smell of fresh cut, wet grass and exhaust fumes.

  Latreece mustered her courage, took a deep breath, and knocked on apartment 180.

  The woman on the other side of the door wore a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. "What do you w
ant?" Jade asked.

  "Yeah...Uh...," Latreece's voice quivered. "I wanted to know if you could help me with something."

  Jade narrowed her eyes. "You're the girl that was messing with Shemeya the other day."

  "Yeah. So?" Latreece folded her arms across her chest.

  "What do you want?" Jade straightened and squared her shoulders.

  It was too late to leave now. "I heard you could do things?" Latreece said.

  Jade laughed, her freckles crinkling along her nose and cheeks. "You can't afford me."

  "I have money." Latreece pulled out the two hundred and fifty dollars she'd been saving since her birthday. She had planned to use it for her and Sean's prom night, but that plan was dead and buried.

  The humor disappeared from Jade's face, replaced with greed. "What is it you need?"

  "Can you make my butt and chest bigger?"

  Jade studied the money in Latreece's hand. "If I told you for two-hundred and fifty dollars I could grant anyone of your heart's desires, would you still wish for bigger assets?"

  "Yes," Latreece answered. She should have said the nice thing and wished for world peace. But there was no such thing. It was a hypothetical question beauty queens were asked in pageants. Latreece wasn't Miss America, and the world would never be happy. People like her mother would always choose pain. "But I'm giving you money, so that means you can't have my soul or curse my granny, or anyone else in my family." The world may never be at happy, but having a bigger butt would get her closer to having inner peace.

  "What exactly do you think I am?" Jade asked, her voice filled with curiosity and humor.

  "A witch who helps some people but might curse others?" Latreece had thought of everything Granny had told her and remembered all the movies about witches she'd ever seen. She'd decided on a simple plan to make sure Crazy Jade wouldn't be able to curse her.

  "Why come here, if you think I'd put a curse on you?"

  "I don't know. Everyone comes here. And you're always nice to your son. You can't be all that bad," Latreece answered honestly.

  "Come in and give me the money." Crazy Jade's shirt showed her midriff. Her stomach was flat, but stretch marks crept past the top of her jeans, but at least she had a nice sized butt.