Bound, An Arelia LaRue Novel #1 YA Paranormal Romance

by Kira Saito



  Bound, An Arelia LaRue Novel #1

  Copyright 2011 Kira Saito

  All rights reserved: no part of this book may be reproduced without written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction and any resemblance between the characters and persons living or dead is strictly coincidental

  Love is the only freedom

  in the world

  because it so elevates the spirit

  that the laws of humanity

  and the phenomena

  of nature

  do not alter its course

  -Khalil Gibran

  Chapter 1

  An Opportunity

  “We’ve been over this before. I have to go. Sabrina is going to be here any second, and I’m not even packed yet.” Not that there was much to pack. I crammed my favorite jeans into an old duffel bag, threw in a few tank tops and the print sundress Grand-mere Bea had made for me last week. My bedroom was a mess. Littered with dirty laundry, open books, and half-empty coffee cups, it wasn’t exactly sanitary.

  I caught a glance of myself in the mirror and decided that I didn’t look much better than my room. My olive skin had decided to take on a yellowish tinge as punishment for working overtime last night. The New Orleans summer heat transformed my wavy dark hair into a bird’s nest, and my large brown eyes were bloodshot. It wasn’t the picture I wanted to present to my new boss. I searched the room for a hairbrush and found one under a pile of socks. After a few frantic strokes through my hair, I gave up and roughly tied it into a lopsided ponytail. I knew Sabrina was going to be horrified, but at this point I didn’t care. I had a tube of lip gloss somewhere- how I was going to find it was a mystery.

  “The Devil takes many forms, my child,” Grand-mere Bea’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Speak his name and he appears. I don’t understand why you have to go to Darkwood Plantation.”

  I sighed. She had no idea. “We need the money. James has upped the rent again, and if I don’t start saving for college now, I won’t ever go.” James, our landlord, was getting greedier and fatter as he got older. His hunger for money probably stemmed from the fact that his fourth wife had recently left him for a barista. Within the past year alone, our rent had gone up three times.

  “Yes, I know, Arelia, but I am sure you can find something in the city, something safe.” She desperately attempted to make one last plea. This little argument had been an ongoing event since I announced I had taken a summer job at Darkwood.

  “Yesterday was my last day working at Lola’s. What they’re offering me at Darkwood for the summer is a year’s pay here. The job isn’t hard, either. Sabrina said that it’s just showing tourists around, helping out in the kitchen, and stuff like that. It sounds much better than slaving over an espresso machine all summer.”

  “Oh, she said that now, did she?” Her voice had a sarcastic ring to it. “The only reason Sabrina wants to go there is to get close to the LaPlante family. That girl has never lifted a finger in her life, and you’re just going to have to do twice the work to make up for it,” Grand-mere advised as she frantically fidgeted with the red beads that hung around her neck.

  I couldn’t argue with her there. At first I was confused about why my best friend wanted to work, since her family is already loaded. It was only after I found out about her plan to meet one of the LaPlante men that I realized what she was actually up to. According to her, she was going to make one of them fall in love with her. Within a few years, she would be married to one of the richest men in the world. She would then become a lady of leisure, like her mother, and focus on having children. Yes, she actually said “lady of leisure” and was thinking about having children already. Besides, her parents were spending the summer visiting friends in Morocco, so she didn’t have anything better to do. It wasn’t surprising that she was obsessed with marriage and kids. Her family, who lived in the absurdly wealthy Garden District, was part of high society in New Orleans. The women who ran in those circles were programmed while they were still in the womb to seek out rich and powerful mates. While Sabrina had everything handed to her on a silver platter, I had to fight for even the littlest things. How we became friends is an enigma even to me. Grand-mere used to be her nanny, so I’ve known her forever.

  “You know how important it is for me to go. I don’t understand why you think Darkwood is dangerous. Tourists are going there so they can see a ghost or two. It’s all a clever marketing trap, just like the rest of the ghosts and voodoo queens in New Orleans.” I unsuccessfully hunted for clean underwear as I tried to convince Grand-mere that going to Darkwood wouldn’t cause my demise.

  Grand-mere Bea crossed herself. “You are never to joke about that, Arelia. The spirits are everywhere, and they hear everything. That plantation is cursed. Evil surrounds the LaPlante family, and all of New Orleans knows it.” Grand-mere had a somewhat hostile attitude towards the LaPlante family. She probably figured that a family loaded enough to own a massive plantation like Darkwood must have made several deals with good old Lucifer himself.

  “Just because the LaPlantes are filthy rich, it doesn’t make them evil.” Besides, I knew the spirits were everywhere, and I knew they heard everything; that’s why I spent my entire life deliberately ignoring them. Ever since I was a little girl, they haunted my thoughts, and stalked me through shadows. At a very early age, I decided I would never invite them into my world, so I ignored them. Whenever they called, I wished them away, and when they followed me on the streets I looked in the other direction.

  If I lived anywhere but New Orleans, I would have thought I was a lunatic. Only here was it perfectly acceptable to leave spirits rum and talk to them as if they were human. Grand-mere Bea was constantly praising the spirits, or loa, as they’re called in voodoo.

  According to her, Bon Dieu or God was too busy to communicate with us mere mortals. The spirits were the ones who took care of our sticky messes. However, they were kind of picky and only helped if you appeased them with stuff like rum, cigarettes, and the occasional blood sacrifice or two. She always told me if you could hear the spirits, you could control them. If you could control them, it meant you could basically do whatever you wanted, but it was very dangerous. If you didn’t know what you were doing, you could end up dead, or worse. Well, those weren’t her exact words, but it always sounded like that to me. Thanks to her, I knew all their names, their history, and what they had power over.

  However, unlike the rest of New Orleans, I didn’t want to be a witch, a psychic, or a voodoo queen. I just wanted to be me. It was a strategy that was working fine so far. I didn’t see how going to Darkwood was going to change anything.

  “My sweet child, always trying to be so practical.” Grand-mere Bea was always going on about how I was too uptight and that life didn’t always have to be a full-on battle. I hated that she thought she knew me better than I knew myself. On a daily basis she gave me these little ominous speeches that ended up saying the same thing. ‘Be proud’, ‘you’re special’, and all the other cliché things grownups told teenagers to make them feel better about themselves.

  “I bought this protective gris-gris for you from mambo Clara. Put it on and do not take it off until you leave Darkwood.” She lovingly handed me a woven bracelet with a small charm in the form of the letter X on it. Inside the charm was a blend of herbs, allegedly blessed with the power of protection. Grand-mere Bea, like many people in the city, was more than a little superstitious. However, I thought that mambo Clara was the biggest fraud in New Orleans. She only charged eighty bucks for gris-gris bags so she could support her latest boyfriend. Usu
ally, he was some twenty-two year-old model wannabe, which is kind of gross considering she’s Grand-mere’s age. I wanted to yell at Grand-mere for wasting money on garbage, but stopped myself. One look at her dark, leathery skin and kind old eyes made me realize how lucky I was. She didn’t have to take me in after my mother dumped me at her doorstep and ran away to join a traveling country band, but she did. If it weren’t for her, I probably would have ended up homeless and bitter.

  “Sure, Grand-mere, I’ll wear it.” I took the bracelet from her hand and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. Hey, if wearing some bracelet would calm her down, why not?

  “Arelia!” Sabrina’s high-pitched voiced beckoned me from the hallway. “Are you ready?”

  She walked into the room in a blaze of Harajuku Lovers perfume. Her shoulder-length blonde hair shone from her latest Brazilian blowout, and her nails were flawlessly manicured. Dressed in a new Miu Miu sundress and Kate Spade wedges, she looked perfect, as usual. I knew all of her favorite brands because the only thing she talked more about than boys was shopping. For a split second, I felt a bit shy in my worn-out jeans and ancient tank top.

  “I’m ready, let’s go.”

  Sabrina greeted Grand-mere Bea with a hug and a kiss then looked around my bedroom. Her clear blue eyes were horribly confused. “But where are your bags?”

  “Right here,” I said, holding up my duffel bag.

  “You can’t be serious.” Her voice filled with utter disgust. I loved Sabrina like a sister, but she could be such a snob sometimes.

  “What’s the big deal?” I tapped my foot impatiently.

  “What’s the big deal? We’re going to spend the summer at Darkwood plantation, and you’re taking an ugly old duffel bag. How is it possible that you have enough clothes in there for two months? It just doesn’t make any sense. Let me have a look.” She attempted to snatch the bag from my hands.

  “We’re going there to work, remember?” Well I am, I thought, as I clutched the bag to my chest.

  “Seriously, Arelia, if I looked like Jessica Alba, I know I would put in more of an effort. Lucky for you, I came prepared. I brought enough clothes, makeup, and shoes for the two of us.”

  She was always going on about how I could be super-hot if I put on some decent clothes and makeup once in a while. I didn’t dress like I was homeless or anything. I took showers on a daily basis, washed my hair, and used deodorant. However, her opinion of decent clothes included only those that ninety-nine percent of the population could never dream of buying without selling one of their kidneys first. Her view on what actress I most resembled also changed on a daily basis. Last week she claimed that I looked like Vanessa Hudgens. The week before, I was Odette Yustman. Today, I was Jessica Alba. Yes, she was a tad dramatic.

  “We really should get going, otherwise we’re going to be late.” I attempted to deter Sabrina from whipping out her makeup case by swiftly steering her towards the door.

  “Oh crap! It’s already noon,” she realized after looking at her cell. “We need to be there by one at the latest.”

  “That’s why we go need to go now.” I pushed her out the front door.

  “You girls promise to be careful.” Grand-mere Bea warned while mindlessly cracking the joints in her fingers as she always did when anxious. Her large frame shifted from side to side as she tried to hold back the tears that were slowly forming in the corners of her eyes.

  “We promise, Grand-mere. I’ll call you every day.” I gave her one last forceful hug good-bye.

  “Don’t worry, Grand-mere Bea, I’ll take care of this one,” Sabrina promised as she took out her Chanel compact and powered away sweat from her t-zone. Her statement brought a spontaneous smile to grand-mere’s face. The thought of her taking care of anything, or anyone, was ludicrous. The girl switched miniature dogs like they were underwear and tossed boys like they were dirty napkins.

  We headed out to the parking lot and were greeted by a new, hot-pink convertible. “Look what Mommy and Daddy got me as a see-you-later present.” Sabrina grinned as she opened the car door. I couldn’t help feeling jealous. Who buys their kids ridiculously expensive ‘see-you-later’ presents? The last present my mother sent me was a package of beef jerky she bought at a gas station somewhere in Kentucky. It had been my tenth birthday.

  I gave my obligatory compliments. “Wow, it’s beautiful. I’m so jealous.” My voice was full of blatant envy as I opened the door to the passenger’s side.

  “I know, right? Hop in.” Sabrina applied a coat of Lancôme Juicy Tube gloss on her thin lips while looking in the rearview mirror. “I so hate my lips. Mom promised me that I could get fillers after she gets back from Morocco. I so wish I had your lips.” She looked at me in envy.

  For an instant, I imagined what it would be like to have Sabrina’s life. She had it all, but she always wanted more. Maybe the reason we were so close was that I never competed with her. She saw other girls at school as competition. She always needed to have the best hair, clothes, makeup, and boys, and so did the other girls. I never allowed myself to play because I had more important things to worry about; such as where the week’s grocery money was going to come from.

  “I so hope there is an eligible, young, hot LaPlante that I can get my hands on this summer,” Sabrina theatrically fantasized as we sped down the highway.

  “I bet they’re all old and married,” I replied as I counted all the blue cars that passed by.

  “Well, old isn’t a problem and neither is married. I’m sure I can convince any man to leave his wife for me,” she declared with determination. To her, collecting boys was a hobby, much like fishing was to some people.

  I rolled my eyes. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

  “What do you mean?” She sounded genuinely offended. “Are you saying that I’m not good enough to marry a LaPlante?”

  “No, it’s just that if he is married, it’s going to be a costly divorce.”

  “Oh. Well, after one night with me, I’m sure that he would be more than willing to pay any price.” She gave herself another quick glance in the rearview mirror. Sabrina’s many exploits with boys were well-documented in her diary and, of course, rehashed to me in strict confidence.

  “Speaking of, how was your date with Jon last night?”

  “He was so awkward, and kind of geeky. He went on and on about Avatar. I kissed him just to get him to shut up. At one point, I thought about having sex with him so the date would end, but his parents came home and he got all nervous. I swear all the rich men in New Orleans are either mama’s boys or gay. Seriously, Arelia, this summer is my last chance at meeting someone fabulous.”

  “Sabrina, you just turned sixteen, how is this your last chance?” I was tremendously horrified at her lack of desire to do anything besides marry some guy.

  “You don’t know how it is. That’s how it’s always been in my family, and the social circles we run in. Besides, I really want my date for the fall debutante ball to make Elise jealous. She thinks she’s so hot with Tim on her arm. I made out with him after they got together,” she said proudly. “That’s why I love you. You never think you’re better than me.”

  I didn’t know what to make out of her statement, so I just let it slide. “So do you know how many other people are going to be working with us?” I asked, deliberately changing the subject.

  “I don’t know. It’s obvious that I got the invitation to work there only because Daddy is so prominently known in New Orleans. Of course, I told them the only way I would come is if I could bring you”.

  “I can’t thank you enough, Sabrina.” I turned to look at her. “The whole year is going to be so much easier because of this job.”

  “Arelia,” she interrupted me, pointing ahead. “Look. It’s gorgeous.”

  I looked up and saw two large, menacing iron gates with an elaborate spiral design connecting them at the top. I had to close my eyes. They were much stronger here.

  “Shut up,” I muttered. />
  “Huh?” Sabrina eyed me suspiciously.

  “Nothing. It’s beautiful.” I prayed that I would be strong enough to survive the summer.