Black Magic Lover

by Cynthia Cooke

  She wrote down the number on a pad nearby and started to dial. Like loud fists banging against glass, a powerful gust of wind beat against the house. The French doors blew open. Leaves, dirt and decaying bits of the swamp swirled into the room and smacked her face. Laura dropped the phone and ran to wrestle the doors shut.

  As she stood there, staring out into the night, a sudden certainty settled over her that the swamp and the evil that lay beneath it had no intention of letting her go. That somewhere between the dark and light she’d be trapped, lost in the shadows of the bayou.

  A floorboard creaked. Laura whirled around, her limited vision once more searching the dark corners of the room. Icy fingers of fear grasped hold of her racing heart and squeezed. She had to get out of there. Rushing back to the desk, she picked up the phone again and dialed, hoping that the cab company would answer on the first ring. Finally, the line connected.

  “I need a cab,” she said into the receiver. “Pick me up at the bottom of the drive at Larame Manor.” Laura paused as she heard footsteps approaching in the hall. “And hurry. Please. Please hurry.”

  The French doors flew open once more, blowing damp, foul-smelling debris deep into the room. It felt as if tendrils of the swamp swirled around her, pulling her toward the doors, toward the darkness. Laura stifled a scream, holding it deep within her as once more she pushed the doors shut and this time raised the bolts to secure them into the frame.

  Before she could turn around, the light from the Tiffany lamp went out, plunging her into total darkness. Had someone come into the room? No, she told herself. The electricity had gone out. She didn’t move. She stood still, straining to listen over the clamor of the blowing wind outside. She had to get out of there.

  She took a step forward. The air around her suddenly grew cold. She stopped, frozen in her tracks. Something in the room shifted as if someone had moved. In the corner, shadows darkened and merged.

  Fear squeezed her chest painfully. “Is somebody there?” she whispered.

  No answer except the deafening drum of her heartbeat.

  She moved toward the door, following the cold, hard edge of the heavy wooden desk. A sound stopped her. The hair on her nape prickled. There was someone or something in the room with her. She could feel it. A presence.

  She strained to hear more over the storm. Breathing. A footstep. Anything.

  Randal?

  She bolted from the room, from the house and out into the storm. She didn’t stop running until she got to Drew’s car. The wind ripped at her hair, clawing and pulling like a wild thing. She grabbed her bag from the trunk and raced down the driveway fighting the teetering suitcase, pulling it behind her as it yanked on her arm. The sooner she got away from this place the better.

  Because if she didn’t get away, she’d die.

  And she didn’t need Drew’s so-called visions to tell her that.

  Chapter 17

  Possessed.

  Was it true?

  Somehow Drew’d always known things, had an instinct about which moves to make. It was why he’d always been so successful. Not because of his determination, his hard work as he’d always believed, but because of Kafu.

  The thought turned his stomach, sickening him.

  Paul was jumping up and down, his mouth opened in a silent scream. He had to get Kafu out of him. But how? And who could he trust to help him? Certainly not his mother.

  “We should go get Laura and bring her back.”

  “She needs a couple minutes on her own,” Delilah said.

  “She’ll have all the time she needs once she’s back in San Francisco.” Drew walked toward the door. Even though he didn’t want to face Laura again, he didn’t have much choice. He wouldn’t leave her out there alone.

  “Why can’t you hear Paul?” Jeanne asked, falling into step beside him.

  “I learned to block them out a long time ago.” He quickened his pace, as Delilah caught up to them. “I’m taking Laura back to the Inn. She has an early flight. If you want to talk to her, to try and explain anything else, you’ll need to come by tonight.”

  By the time Drew entered the gardens, he saw no sign of her anywhere. “Laura!” No answer.

  Paul was furious. Drew could barely make him out at the edge of the garden flickering and yelling, his face a distortion of fury.

  “You need to let them back in, Drew,” Delilah said as she watched him with eyes that saw too much.

  Wind whipped at his hair and thunderous clouds raced across the sky. “No. I don’t,” he said, raising his voice against the din.

  “Paul can help us find her,” she insisted.

  Can he? “You don’t know that.” He wouldn’t do it. If he let Paul back in, he let them all in. Including Kafu? He took off through the gardens, going deeper behind the house. What if something happened to Laura before he could find her? He should have followed his instincts and taken her directly back to the Inn.

  His instincts or Kafu’s?

  They spent the next ten minutes combing the entire lighted yard up to the tree line.

  “Laura wouldn’t go into the woods in the dark alone especially with a storm coming in.” Drew’s frustration grew. They were wasting time. She wasn’t here.

  “It’s time to call the sheriff,” Jeanne said. “I’ll pull whatever strings I can to get him out here.”

  “And Mary. Call Mary,” Delilah insisted.

  As they hurried back toward the house, a knot formed in the pit of Drew’s stomach. Laura was gone. This time he’d been too late.

  An animal’s high-pitched screams filled the air. An owl hooted. A bat flapped overhead, too close. Laura ducked. She looked at the house one more time as the wind tousled her hair. She wanted to go back up the drive and inside to wait, but she couldn’t. She’d rather take her chances with the elements than the evil she felt inside that house.

  She continued down the drive, refusing to let the darkness enfolding her frighten her as she moved away from the lights of the house. A large splash in the water edging the drive startled her. An alligator? Or some other predator in this death-filled swamp.

  A violent shiver shook her.

  The animal’s squeals ended, abruptly. Laura shivered. The poor thing. There was so much death here. She imagined Lionsheart lurking on the far side of the bayou through the dense foliage and cringed. Her life was unraveling and coming apart at the seams. She didn’t know what to believe or who to trust. All she wanted was to go home. And she wanted to go right now.

  Mist swirled, blowing across the surface of the water. Frogs and insects whined in a wild cacophony almost as if they sensed the violence of the oncoming storm and were crying out a warning. Their raucous clamor drowned out all other sounds.

  It occurred to her that she’d never hear if someone was approaching with all the racket. She’d have no warning. She shot a furtive glance around her, but saw no one.

  Not even Drew.

  A dull ache pierced her heart.

  “Where’s that cab?” she said out loud, hoping the sound of her voice would add a sense of normalcy to an impossibly abnormal situation. Instead, the quaver in her tone only increased her tension.

  Nothing in her life was as she thought it was. Not even Drew. He claims he sees the dead. She grasped hold of her suitcase handle tighter with one hand and rubbed the sudden chill bumps off her arm with the other.

  When she got to the end of the drive, she walked out onto the deserted road. Dark—except for the light from the moon that shifted and moved as the clouds raced by.

  One moment she could see the road ahead of her, the next she was enveloped in inky darkness. She thought she heard Drew calling her name and turned. For a second, she wanted to go back. She wanted to find him and have him assure her that everything would be okay. That this was some crazy dream or misunderstanding. But it wouldn’t be okay. Not with him. He said he’d seen her die. Something was seriously screwed up about that.

  About him.

  Wait
ing for the cab to come, she walked out onto the Devil’s Walk Bridge and looked down into the black waters. Pushing her wind-whipped hair behind her ears, she leaned over the rail and looked into the darkness. Her mother’s moonstone pendant hit the wooden railing with a thud.

  She grabbed hold of the necklace and stared at it in the dim light. Her mother had left all her belongings behind. She’d taken nothing with her to start her new life. Not even her child.

  Laura yanked off the necklace and with the moonstone clutched in her hand drew back her arm. A faint light coming toward her arrested her throw. But the light came from the murky waters, not the road. As it drew closer, she recognized the old lantern hanging from a long pole.

  Laura froze. Terror plunged like ice water through her veins.

  The possum hunter.

  The light disappeared, and before she could turn or run or scream she saw a flash of bright light, heard a sharp retort. She hit the ground, landing on her back. The air whooshed through her chest. Burning pain stung her shoulder. Her hand came away, wet and sticky.

  She looked down and stared in shocked disbelief at the dark stain spreading across her shirt. A small circle that expanded, growing bigger and bigger.

  Blood.

  Oh my God, I’ve been shot!

  Chapter 18

  The sound of a shot echoed through the woods.

  “No! Laura!” Delilah turned and ran down the drive.

  Drew bolted after her with Jeanne close behind. “Not Laura,” he said. Don’t let it be Laura.

  They reached the end of the drive. The only sign of Laura was her suitcase sitting in the deserted road. Headlights shining through the darkness came toward them. They stepped back as a cab pulled to a stop.

  “Laura must have called him,” Jeanne said, and looked around as if she expected Laura to magically appear out of the trees.

  She didn’t.

  Wind pummeled the trees, forming a cyclone of leaves and swamp debris that circled around Drew. Rain started to fall. Big heavy drops. Through the beam of the cab’s headlights, Drew noticed something lying on the bridge. He ran toward it and saw Delilah’s moonstone necklace. He squatted next to it, started to pick it up then stopped. Heart lurching, he pulled back his hand and placed it on his knee.

  The pendant was covered in blood.

  Cold fear seeped through him. Drew closed his eyes, and reined in his panic.

  They had her.

  And she was hurt.

  A wail sounded from behind him then Delilah was kneeling next to him on the bridge, cradling the necklace in her hands. She opened her palms and stared at the blood smearing her hands and cried even louder.

  Another car pulled up next to the cab. Mary jumped out and ran toward them. She didn’t say a word, just bent down next to Delilah and held her as she cried.

  “She’s not dead yet,” Drew yelled. “I will find her.”

  “Drew, wait!” Mary demanded. “You’re not ready.”

  Ignoring her, he turned and headed back up the drive toward his car.

  “You must mentally prepare. If you go in there half-cocked and emotional, you’ll lose. It won’t take much to complete the ritual.” Mary ran to catch up to him. She grabbed his arm with her thin hand. The strength of her grip surprised him.

  He stopped. Impatience scraped against the fear drumming through him. He didn’t have time for this. Not for her, not for anything but finding Laura.

  “You must accept who you are, Drew. Embrace your gifts, because that’s what they are—gifts. Not a curse. You’ve pushed away the part of yourself that makes you unique. Special. The part that makes you strong enough to save Laura.”

  “You mean the spirits?”

  “They can help you fight Kafu. They are his victims, too. You need a new plan. Demanding your mother give Laura back won’t work.”

  This wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He shook her off and rushed toward the car.

  Mary caught up to him, gripping his arm. She dug her fingers into his muscles. Her eyes were bright, intense, as she stared into his. “This is about more than you and your mother. This is about her clan. Her town. Her power. And a very powerful voodoo spirit that will not stop until he gets what he wants. And he wants you, Drew. He has for a very long time. And they’re using Laura to get you.” Drew shuddered.

  The Great Spirit Kafu talks to me through the water, and after tonight he will talk to you, too. Because we’re special, Drew. We’ve been touched.

  As he recalled his mother’s fanatical whisperings, despair seeped into his soul as easily as the rain soaked into the ground. “I thought if I could just get Laura to leave, to go back home, she’d be safe. But I couldn’t get her to listen.”

  “She was chosen, Drew. This was her destiny. She took every path the universe offered to get her to this moment. She never veered, not once. It’s out of her hands now and it’s up to you. Which path will you take?”

  “I love her, Mary. I can’t let her die. I have to get to the clearing. I have to stop my mother.” He opened the driver’s door.

  “How will you stop her?”

  He couldn’t answer. He didn’t know.

  “You’ve lived your life with your head stuck in the sand. Pull it out and do what has to be done. Stand up for yourself. Take charge or you will become a puppet, a body for a demon.”

  He stared at the steely determination in her dark Creole eyes and knew she spoke the truth. He had been hiding from his gifts, refusing to face them. “How will this help me or Laura?”

  “Open yourself up. Embrace who you are. The spirits have been trying to help you. To guide you. It’s time you listened to them.”

  He ran a hand over his face.

  “Part of Kafu came into you from the ritual your mother started on your tenth birthday. It was interrupted. But Kafu gained a foothold. The intensity of your visions, of your ability to see and hear the spirits has been magnified because of that. You learned how to block him and the spirits from talking to you. Once you open yourself back up, you will feel Kafu. You will be able to hear him. He is strong, powerful and seductive. Fight him, push him out.”

  “You sound insane.”

  “It is the truth. Let Paul and the other spirits guide you. Push Kafu out. Stop your mother before Laura’s blood flows into the swamp. The water is the conduit for Kafu’s passage. He will become you, and you him. Once that happens, there will be no going back. Is that clear?”

  “Before Laura’s blood flows.” Drew shuddered thinking of the wound in her shoulder that he’d seen from his vision. Despair threatened once more. He’d spent his whole life fighting the spirits, the voices, and now Mary was asking him to give in. To succumb.

  “If I do this, will Laura be saved?”

  “I don’t know,” she whispered. “The cards wouldn’t say.” She shook her head. “You are almost out of time.”

  Drew knew once he let the spirits in there would be no going back. Hearing the spirits, constantly seeing them was not something he wanted to live with. If he did this, he’d be opening himself up to a lifetime of harassment. Then, like his mother, he would go insane.

  But if he didn’t?

  He thought of Laura’s sweet lips pressed against his and felt his heart lurch. He loved her, and he’d do whatever he could to save her even if it meant going head-to-head with a demon.

  Branches slapped against Laura as strong arms carried her through the woods.

  “No!” She tried to beat on him, but her right arm was useless. Pain radiated through her shoulder, shooting down her entire right side. Dizziness swept through her.

  Raindrops fell, bouncing off her face. They were in complete darkness. Running, each step making her cry out. She bit her tongue and the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.

  The next thing she knew she was in a wooden shack lying on a cot. A candle burning next to her.

  Had she blacked out? For how long?

  The scruffy face of the hunter stared down at her. Her
heart slammed against the wall of her chest.

  “You shot me,” she croaked. Her mouth parched, her throat scratchy.

  “Not me.”

  Confusion made her head ache.

  “Your mother and I have been waiting a long time for this day. We knew it would come and we knew we had to stop it.” He grabbed the neck of her shirt and pulled, ripping the fabric.

  Laura gasped and cried out.

  A hole in her shoulder oozed blood. She stared at it with a detached sense of fascination, knowing that with each drop lost she was moving closer to death. Drew said he saw her die. Was this what he’d seen?

  No! It wasn’t true.

  The hunter shoved white cotton gauze against the wound and applied pressure, pushing painfully down onto her shoulder.

  “Stop. Hurts.” Tears filled her eyes and streamed down her face.

  “Martha needs you to finish what she started. Only with your death can Kafu finish his transformation.”

  “Not true. Delusional,” she muttered, biting down on her lip, trying to stop the pain as he tried to staunch the blood.

  “So we waited,” he continued unheeded. “And watched.”

  “You sound like…” She took a shallow breath, then found the strength to say, “My mother.”

  “She gave up everything for you.”

  She shook her head. “Threw me away.”

  Fury blazed through his eyes. He pressed harder on the gauze.

  She wailed.

  “You are all she thinks about.”

  “Absurd.” She coughed, the pain making her head swim. She wanted to sleep now. Sleep and let this nightmare be over.

  “Evil has had a hold on Martha since the moment she moved into Lionsheart. Why do you think this town has prospered when so many others have failed? And the Larames? Randal went from a small town lawyer to governor and then senator. You think he did that on his good looks alone?” He shook his head. “No. It was Kafu. And what did the spirit want in return?”