“Prepare, he says,” Will mumbled. “For what, we do not know, other than our doom. And demons … lots and lots of demons.”
Bart shoved him forward as he grumbled under his own breath.
Ignoring them, Nibo headed for Valynda, but she was again having none of him.
Masaka cut off his path. “You’re embarrassing yourself,” she whispered. “And you’re embarrassing us!”
Those words set fire to his temper. “I don’t care.”
Masaka’s dark eyes glowed purple. “Think, Nibo. They’ve already killed her. Turned her into that monstrosity to get back at you. What do you think they’ll do next?”
That gave him pause. She was right and he hated her for it. He could never show his emotions. Never show anything.
He knew it.
Weaknesses were always used against him. For what you’ve done, you are damned. He could still hear his brother’s voice in his ear. Right before he’d cut his throat.
The pain of that betrayal was forever etched in his heart. And for what? Because he’d wanted to be loved? Dared seek happiness?
Nibo let his gaze follow after Vala, and he knew that he had to let her go. It was the only way to see her happy and to let her escape this hell intact. She deserved to be happy.
I destroy what I love.
That was his curse. There would never be any way to break it. The gods would never have mercy on him and he knew it.
Worse, he couldn’t fight it.
Valynda sat quietly, returning in her mind to the days when she’d believed in something.
Believed in someone.
Closing her eyes, she was no longer on board the Sea Witch II. Rather, she was a girl back on her island home, filled with wonder over the simplest things because that was all she’d been allowed to know. The only demons in her world those days had been the ones the preacher used to frighten them with on Sundays. Nebulous things that had only existed in fables and nightmares.
Nothing tangible or real. Just figments of an overactive imagination that caught glimpses of shadows it twisted out of proportion.
“Valynda? We’re going to swim. Would you care to join us?”
“Not today.” She’d waved her friends off and headed away from them. Her goal was to pick shells from the shoreline. A hobby that went back to her childhood when her grandmother had told her tales of how she could hear the war of sea creatures inside conch shells if she could find the right ones. Or free a trapped jinn who would grant wishes. All she had to do was rub his magic shell to free him, and then he would be hers to command.
Valynda had tried to tell her grandmother that it was a lamp she needed to find to free the jinn, but her grandmother had insisted lamps were a stupid home for such miraculous creatures. Shells made much more sense, as they traveled the world on the brilliant sun-kissed waves, and no one could set fire to those and burn down their homes.
She supposed that made sense.
So here she was, seeking her jinn to free her of her insipidly boring life of endless chores.
Tucking her skirt up so as to protect its fragile, worn hem from the salt water, she began to wade out into the shallow waves to seek her treasure. While she’d never found a jinn, she had found a number of pretty pieces that she used to create jewelry that she could sometimes sell for profit to travelers who were making their way from Europe to the colonies.
Without thinking, she hummed to herself as she searched the glimmering, turquoise waves until she found a magnificent pinkish-blue shell. Pulling it up from where it was partially buried in the thick, wet sand, she rinsed it in the water, then tried to blow through the end of it to clean it. With a scowl, she dipped it back in the water, rinsed it again, then cradled it to her bosom and rubbed it in her hands.
“I’ve never envied a shell before.”
Valynda shrieked in startled alarm at the deep voice behind her. She was so shocked that her skirts tangled in her legs, and between that and the waves, she was caught off balance and sent crashing to the ground, where she landed in a most undignified heap. If that wasn’t embarrassing enough, another wave rushed over her just then, almost drowning her. She sputtered and coughed, then pushed herself up on unsteady feet. Brushing her soggy curls out of her eyes, she looked up to find her irritating loa staring at her with a quirky, charming grin.
“It would be you.”
That made him laugh. “Why does everything you say feel as if it insults me?”
Still sputtering, she twisted her sopping hair up into a knot on her head. “Probably because it does.”
“And why is that?”
She shrugged. “Maybe because every time we meet you’re doing something that annoys me.”
His smile widened. “You’re a cheeky little thing, aren’t you?”
Ignoring his question, Valynda searched the waves for the shell she’d been holding. Sadly, she’d dropped it in the commotion of his unexpected appearance.
“You haven’t contacted me.”
Annoyed, she straightened to give him a peeved glare. “Was I supposed to?”
Nibo followed after her while she searched. “I told you to.”
“And everyone does what you tell them?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Most do, aye.”
“Lucky you.” No one ever cared a single fig what she thought or wanted. Case in point, here he was being a burr in her nether regions for no reason whatsoever when all she wanted was to be left alone.
She turned away from him so that she could continue to seek her shell.
“Whatever are you doing?” Now he sounded as annoyed as she felt.
“Hunting my shell that you caused me to drop.”
“Why?”
“Because I liked it and I want to find it again.”
Suddenly, laughter rose up from the depths of the water where she stood. Cold and gurgling, it’d been unlike anything Valynda had ever experienced in her life. Too shocked to react, she’d stood there until Nibo had wrapped his arm about her waist and pulled her back against him. She’d been startled by the unexpected intimacy of his embrace. And by how hard his body was in contrast to hers. He was a solid wall of lean muscle. While he comforted her, his metal necklace had let out a strange melody that haunted her. But what startled her most was that his eyes glowed the same shade as warm brandy. They were haunting and searing in their unique beauty.
If that wasn’t startling enough, his two companions appeared from the waves behind them. Two psychopomps Valynda knew by their fierce reputations that were recounted on the island in song, verse, tales, and, at times, in fear-filled whispers. She could barely leave her father’s modest home that she didn’t come across poppets or wangas their followers had fashioned for them and left in strategic places throughout the island in hopes that the loa would intercede with the Bondye on their behalf to grant them wishes and favors—in much the same way as offerings made to saints or pagan gods.
Given that, there was no mistaking who and what they were.
Masaka, a sorceress of extreme power, was said to be capricious and bold. Her followers feared her wrath as much as her sexual appetites, though Valynda wasn’t supposed to know anything at all about the latter bit.
Any more than she was supposed to know about the rumors that said Masaka might not be a woman, but rather a man dressed as such.
Without a word to her, or any real acknowledgement, Masaka moved to guard Nibo’s right flank as Oussou moved to shield his left. In perfect synchronicity, they turned around to protect Nibo’s back.
“What’s going on?”
Nibo tightened his hold on her. “An old friend wants a few words with me. ’Tis all. Think nothing of it.”
He made it sound so simple, and yet the raging waters that percolated said this was no friendly matter. As did the tenseness of his companions. They were ready for a battle.
“Nibo!” That angry shout rocked the ground beneath them.
He passed Valynda over to Oussou as if she
were a doll. “Careful with her, brother. Keep her safe.”
Inclining his head, he took her from Nibo, then peeled off from the other two to take her back toward shore. Once they were safely ensconced on the beach, he set her down and stood in front of her as if she were his new mission.
Unsure of what to make of it all, Valynda took a step toward the sea.
Oussou countered her actions with an angry hiss that caused her to retreat to where he’d put her. His stark white braids rattled like bones against his pale flesh. His black grave-digger’s coat was a startling contrast to the eerie pallor of his skin and hair. To his eyes, that were every bit as lacking in color. Each sleeve of that chilling frock was marked with a large purple cross, as was the back of it. Smaller animated crosses appeared to dance along the edges of his black tricorne that was trimmed in vibrant purple.
He was a peculiar sight, no doubt. Everything about this encounter was strange.
And Masaka was no less odd. For she was as dark as he was pale. Her skin every bit as iridescent against the bright waves. But where Oussou’s linen shirt was white, hers was black, and where his jacket was black, hers was the color of human bones, and decorated with skulls. The same was true of her breeches and hose. Even the buckles of her shoes were bone hands that held the leather in place. She looked more pirate than spirit, especially with the trailing black scarf that came out from beneath her tricorne and the baldric that held three flintlocks across her chest.
No ordinary flintlocks either. They were the rare type with rotating barrels that allowed their user to have more than a single shot at a target. Costly and deadly, those weapons were the bane of her uncle and his watchmen.
When the waves rose up around Masaka and Nibo, she lifted one of the dangling drawstring bags from her belt. Her voice was deep as she began to chant words Valynda couldn’t even begin to understand.
As Masaka did so, Nibo pulled a braided leather belt from his lean waist. He unfurled it with a vicious snap that caused it to turn into a long shepherd’s crook.
Valynda’s eyebrow shot north.
Defiantly, Nibo faced the turgid sea. “You want a word with me, Aggie?”
“I want many words with you, you unfit dog!”
“Told you not to sleep with his wife,” Masaka snarled over her shoulder at Nibo.
“Not my fault.”
Masaka gaped at him. “Whose then?”
He passed her a charming grin. “You knew better than to leave me unattended.”
She was aghast as she seemed to forget they were in danger and turned more toward Nibo in the water. “You’re not seriously blaming me?”
Leaning against his crook, he gestured toward Valynda and her new companion. “Well, I can’t very well blame Oussou. He wasn’t there, now, was he? Nay, he’d gone off alone. ’Twas you who were there last, and you knew better than to leave me alone with La Sirene! As if anyone, particularly moi, could resist her.”
Masaka scoffed. “Since when do you need an excuse to jump into a woman’s bed, Brave Ghede? Oops, I tripped and fell on top of her? Nay, I think not. Your problem is staying clothed. I swear, I don’t know why you bother to dress at all.”
“You’re a fine one to talk. As if you’ve—”
A loud thunderous roar cut their argument short. The sea rose up to form a giant wall in front of Nibo, who appeared less than impressed by the display. “You little bastard!”
Nibo grinned. “Better than being a giant bastard or big asshole.”
“You’ve been accused of both,” Masaka said flippantly.
Nibo cast her a glare that said she wasn’t helping and that she really needed to keep her opinions to herself.
The waves fanned out into giant spikes that rushed toward Nibo as if to pierce him through. Just as they would have reached him, he held his crook up and caught them, then sent them back toward his attacker. “Can’t we talk about this?”
“We cannot! I want what you took!”
Nibo and Masaka passed a confused frown between each other. “Pardon? I’d think you’d be getting a piece of that fair regular, being married to her and all.”
Aggie screamed out in fury. “You motherless, futtocking dog! Not that! Me kiman, you rotten ass!”
“Oh … that.” Nibo nudged Masaka, then sobered. “There’s a bit of a problem there, mate.”
“How so?”
He screwed his face up. “I rather drank it all. Was quite tasty. Really good recipe that, you know?”
“You did what?”
“Couldn’t help meself, really.” He passed an amused, twinkle-eyed stare to his companion that made her roll her eyes before he sobered a bit more. “Had a nip, and the next thing I knew all these rogue little bitches started coming up and out from everywhere. Places I didn’t even know. Had a party with them. Went to town, if you know what I mean. And you probably don’t. Well, long story long, because that’s normally the only kind I tell, we killed a few things, gutted an enemy, and ended up naked in a ditch. No more kiman, but one incredible night out that left me wondering what the hell elephant ran me over and if there were any witnesses to it.”
“I hate you, you daft, arrogant bastard!”
Nibo didn’t seem the least bit concerned by the fact that the other loa wanted to kill him. “Now, now, Aggie, don’t be like that. You know you don’t mean it.”
“Of course I do! Why wouldn’t I?”
“No particular reason really, other than I’m cute and you might need me one day. Never know what fight might be brewing. Gatekeepers come in handy. Healers even more so.”
“That was a mistake,” Oussou breathed under his breath an instant before the water exploded all over Nibo. Only it wasn’t water.
It turned into blood.
And something a little more disgusting.
Unable to stand the sight, Valynda turned away as her stomach heaved violently. More from the smell and sound than the sight.
Oussou caught her against his side. “There now, me pet. It’s not so bad really.” His hand faltered. “Well, perhaps it is, but still. Best you keep looking away for a bit longer, eh?”
Agreeing with his wisdom, she didn’t know what to think. Not until Nibo appeared in front of her, toweling himself off as if he’d just stepped out of his bath. Not one flit of a care about what had just happened or why.
Valynda kept her hand pressed to her lips as her stomach began to settle. “This happen a lot to you?”
He grinned. “The blood and guts, not so much.”
“Jealous husbands, all the time,” Masaka said under her breath.
Which caused Nibo to glare at her. “Do you mind?”
“All the time,” she repeated. “Do you care? That’s the real question here, love. And the answer there is nay, because if you did, you wouldn’t be getting me into all these messes of yours, or poor Oussou either.”
Oussou cleared his throat. “Leave me out of this, please. Last time I was dragged into one of your fights, you two almost had me gutted. So, I’ll thank you both to leave me over here where I’m feeling awkward and alone enough, thank you very much.”
“Poor Oussou,” Nibo said with feigned sympathy. “Don’t you know, man, that’s the lie we tell ourselves each day. Even when we’re in a crowd or surrounded by what we think are our friends and family, we’re all still standing alone. Always feeling awkward.”
Valynda found his keen insight astounding.
“And you, young miss.” Nibo sighed heavily as he leaned against his crook in a way that really was unbelievably sexy and alluring. She didn’t know what it was about that man, but he could make breathing evocative. There was something about him so incredibly sexual that it made everyone around him want to reach out and pull him near. She’d never seen anything quite like it. “In the future, please be avoiding the conch shells of the sea, if you don’t be minding. As you can see, blowing into them, they’re a bit hazardous to your health and my sanity.”
It took everything she ha
d to focus on the conversation and not how much she wanted to take a bite out of his succulent flesh.
Valynda glanced over her shoulder toward the sea. “Should I ask who the big blowhard was? Just so I know who to avoid in the future?”
Masaka rolled her eyes. “She don’t even know what it is she done. You see what you get when you mix with mortals, man?”
“Relax, Saka. Breathe.” He straightened, and his crook disintegrated back into a belt that he quickly wrapped around his lean waist and buckled over a piece of his anatomy Valynda tried really hard not to notice, as it was a rather large piece. One that grew even bigger in size while her gaze lingered there. Aye, he was a fine one, indeed.
And that made heat sting her cheeks as she quickly averted her gaze.
Nibo laughed. “That was Agwé, and he’s a nasty bugger.”
“When you sleep with his wife.”
He glared at Masaka for her added comment.
“Just saying.” She was completely unabashed.
Nibo arched a brow. “Why don’t you try saying that from somewhere else?”
“Such as?”
“Europe would be a nice change of pace, man. Or back in Vilokan, how’s that for you, eh? Yeah, I like that thought for you a lot. Why don’t you both take some of me rum and go bother Legba or one of the others for a bit?”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she scoffed. “I say you’re a daft, loon bastard thinking with his pizzle. And you might as well go and calm your coconuts, as Kal will be slurping milk out Erzuli’s belly button afore this one opens her gate even to the Brave Ghede. You’re a-wasting your time, brother. Ain’t no way she’ll up her goods to the likes of you.”
His eyes and nostrils flared with annoyance. “Ain’t nobody here talking to you or your brother. Now off with you before I decide to make a sacrifice of you both for the sake of me sanity. I’m sure there’s some sea serpent be wanting some indigestion.” Nibo waved his hand and a huge, glowing slit appeared in the air between them. It looked as if someone had ripped a hole straight in the air. “Go!” he barked.
At Death's Door (Deadman's Cross Book 3) Page 7
