A Deal with Death

by Carrie Pulkinen

  An image of James, naked and dripping wet, formed in her mind, chasing all rational thought from her head. Her body acted before her brain could process a response, and she rose from the table, gliding toward him.

  She could have dinner with James…and dessert. Preferably his delectable body covered in chocolate. If she was going to let go and give in to passion, he was the man to do it with. He was supposed to be her soulmate after all. She could trust him, couldn’t she? “I thought you had rules against dating clients?”

  “It’s more of a suggestion, really. I’ve never been much of a rule-follower.”

  She couldn’t help herself. She drifted a little closer and rested her hand on his shoulder. His muscles were firm, his skin warm beneath his shirt. “As tempting as your offer is, I have to be at the temple in an hour. We’re having a ceremony.”

  “That’s cool. Maybe another time.” He patted her hand on his shoulder and stepped away. “I’ll be back in the morning.” He strode to the foyer.

  “James…” She followed him to the front door. “You don’t take rejection well, do you?”

  He stopped and faced her, his eyes narrowing. “I’m not used to being rejected.”

  “I’m not rejecting you. I’m simply not available tonight.” She looked into his eyes, willing him to take the hint and ask about another time.

  He pressed his mouth into a thin line and lifted his chin. “I see.”

  Damn it, he didn’t take the bait.

  She bit her bottom lip. With her poise and the general spooky aura surrounding her, most people backed down instantly when she pressed them. James was the first person not afraid to push back, and that made him all the more intriguing.

  She moved closer, placing her hand on his shoulder again. “Will you be watching my house tonight or are you assigning the job to someone else?”

  His brow furrowed. “I…How did you know?”

  “I could feel your presence, and I saw you across the street. When I woke up around three a.m. someone else was there. I guess you’re working in shifts?”

  He inhaled deeply, holding her gaze, silently reminding her she couldn’t scare him away. “I’m not a stalker. With the demon on your property…we hunt in shifts all night anyway, and I was worried one might try again.”

  “And the fact that it’s my house had nothing to do with it?” She inched a little closer until she could feel the heat radiating from his skin.

  “This is a high-paying job. Luke would have my ass if something happened to you and you couldn’t pay.” His gaze flowed between her eyes and her lips.

  “Is that the real reason?”

  He rested a hand on her hip. “I think you know the real reason. I—”

  Tugging him closer, she pressed her lips to his. He stiffened at first, but as she slid her arms around his shoulders, his body relaxed, conforming to hers as if he were made to fit in her embrace.

  His lips were soft, his body firm, and as he wrapped his arms around her waist, a growl rumbled up from deep in his chest. She opened for him, brushing her tongue against his, reveling in the way their magic mixed and tingled across her skin.

  With a deep, shuddering breath, she pulled away, cupping his face in her hands before stepping back and dropping her arms to her sides. “Natasha is picking me up in a few minutes, so you’d better get going.”

  He opened his mouth, but he didn’t speak.

  “She drives a silver Toyota Camry, if you’re planning to follow us to the temple. Sometimes these ceremonies last into the early morning, so if you want to send someone to follow me back home, I can’t give you an exact time.”

  “We’ll have eyes on you all night. Don’t worry.”

  With Natasha’s magic and her own, she wasn’t the slightest bit afraid of a little imp. But she couldn’t deny that she found James’s protective nature appealing. “I won’t.” She placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “Bye, James.”

  Chapter Nine

  Odette held a bag of cornmeal in one hand, the fingers of her free hand lightly tracing the bow of her lips as she replayed the kiss in her mind for the fifteenth time. How could her skin still be tingling from his touch?

  She shouldn’t have kissed him. With the imp showing up at her house, she was all but convinced her demise had begun, but if she could keep her hands to herself and her lips off the sexy werewolf, maybe she could spare him from their horrid fate.

  Tell him it was a mistake. That it would never happen again. Shut it down before it began. She could call his boss and ask for a different foreman to finish her house so she wouldn’t have to see him anymore. It was the only way to keep James safe.

  Then again, with the way he’d reacted to her advances this evening, they’d both boarded a bullet train headed straight for death.

  “You bite that lip any harder, and we’re going to have a blood offering for Papa Legba.” Natasha took the bag from her hand and set it on a table in the corner.

  Odette blinked, releasing her bottom lip from the clutch of her teeth and sweeping her gaze across the room. In the ten minutes she’d been internalizing, six vodouisants had entered the room with offerings for the various loa who may or may not grace them with their presence during the ceremony.

  Natasha had drawn the vévé for Papa Legba, the loa of the crossroads, in cornmeal on the floor. The intricate cross with swirls and stars embellishing each of the corners would act as the gateway, Papa Legba the gatekeeper, allowing the other loa to enter the ritual.

  “You’ve outdone yourself this time, Mambo.” Odette gestured to the vévé.

  Natasha smiled proudly. “My artistic skills are improving.”

  Pulling a bottle of premium rum from her bag, Odette placed it on the offering table. “I’m sure he’s abandoned me, but in case the Baron decides to make an appearance.”

  “Who abandoned who?” The priestess arched an eyebrow.

  “Is anyone else coming?” She didn’t need to run down that rabbit hole again. Odette and Baron Samedi had abandoned each other, and she refused to argue about the topic further. It didn’t matter who strayed first.

  Pressing her lips together, Natasha narrowed her eyes, giving her that you know I’m right look. Maybe she was right; maybe she wasn’t. The point of this ceremony was to find out where the imps came from, and they didn’t need the loa of death to figure that out. Demons didn’t die.

  “Are we waiting on anyone else?” Natasha scanned the crowd, and when no one spoke up, she lit a black candle and knelt in front of her freshly-drawn vévé.

  Jackson and Tyrell, two priests-in-training picked up their drums and beat out a melodic rhythm, while Rasheda, Amy, and Darlene, three of the women dressed in all white, began swaying to the cadence. Her voice low, Natasha hummed, slowly increasing her volume as the hum turned from a mumble into a full-blown chant.

  Odette recognized few words of the Haitian Creole prayer the priestess recited to the rhythm of the drums, but the message was as clear as if she’d said the chant in English. The Mambo was calling on Papa Legba to open the gates and allow the loa through to deliver their messages.

  As the drumbeat changed, the energy in the room shifted, a buzzing, living electricity dancing through the air, making goose bumps prick on Odette’s arms. Darlene spun, taking a bottle of Bacardi from the table and pouring a few drops on the vévé as an offering to the loa of the crossroads.

  The cadence changed again, and Rasheda and Amy joined Darlene in a dance to honor the Spirits. The pull of energy had Odette leaning toward the dancers, her body betraying her as it swayed in time with the drums. Fisting her hands, she focused on the bite of her nails into her palms, keeping herself firmly grounded in the here and now. Giving in to the rhythm would mean relinquishing control, opening herself up to ritual possession, and that was something she’d never do again.

  The room buzzed, the vibration increasing as Papa Legba opened the gates, giving the loa permission to visit the Earthly realm. Odette whispered her thanks along
with the other vodouisants, and Rasheda placed a coconut on the vévé.

  “This is intense.” Chelsea, a new initiate, wrung her hands as she stepped next to her. “How long have you been a vodouisant?”

  Odette unclenched her jaw and glanced at the girl. With her red hair styled into a pixie cut, torn jeans, and Adidas shoes, she didn’t look a day over eighteen. “All my life.” She tried for a smile, but the corners of her mouth merely twitched.

  “Then, why aren’t you dancing? I can’t wait for my lavé tet so I can join in.”

  Odette focused on her Mambo. “I never dance.”

  “There’s demons after our girl.” Natasha sashayed toward her. “Will someone tell us where they came from? Is it her curse?” She stood between Odette and the initiate, carefully eyeing the drummers and dancers for signs of possession.

  The atmosphere thickened, the drum cadence quickening, welcoming whatever loa was about to make its presence known. Darlene stiffened, her eyes going wide for a second before they closed and she collapsed into Rasheda’s arms.

  As she held her breath, Odette clenched her fists tighter, the sensation of her nails cutting into her palms the only thing keeping her in place. The visitor could be any one of the hundreds of loa, and he or she may not even be there to answer her questions. Voodoo Spirits thought for themselves, and they didn’t always cooperate.

  It was foolish to hope her own met tet would arrive to help her. Baron Samedi hadn’t shown himself at a ritual Odette attended since the day she turned her back on Voodoo. Even now he rarely visited her in her dreams.

  She let out her breath as Darlene regained her footing, righting herself and taking on a posture not her own. Her head held high, she pointed to the perfume and flowers on the table, and Rasheda and Amy draped her in a pink shawl, the color of Erzulie Freda, the loa of love.

  “This is the last thing I need,” Odette muttered under her breath. If the loa was there to talk about her love life, the demon was most definitely after her. The cycle had begun.

  Darlene’s gaze locked on Odette, but her smile wasn’t her own. She slinked toward her, batting her lashes at Jackson as he softened the beat of his drum. Stopping two feet in front of her, Erzulie Freda smiled sweetly, shaking her head and making a tsk sound as she smoothed a strand of Odette’s hair back into place. “You found a good one, but you need to work on your presentation if you want to keep him.”

  She fought the urge to slap Darlene’s hand away. This wasn’t Darlene; it was Erzulie Freda. “My appearance doesn’t seem that important when I’m about to be joining the Baron in the land of the dead.”

  Resting her hands on her hips, Freda tilted her head and offered a small smile. “The Baron doesn’t want you to join him yet.”

  “I don’t think I have a choice.”

  Freda wrapped an arm around Odette’s shoulders and led her away from the others. “What’s your beau’s name, child?”

  “James.” She straightened, furrowing her brow as the realization hit. She hadn’t hesitated. Didn’t argue that he wasn’t her boyfriend like she’d expected to. That kiss seemed to have sealed the deal, sealing her fate—and his—along with it.

  Closing her eyes, the loa smiled softly, nodding as if receiving messages from the spirit world. “He’s a good one. You’re lucky.”

  Odette scoffed. “Until we both end up dead.”

  Freda stopped and turned to face her. “Maybe you have three more days with him, or maybe you have fifty years. However long you have left, don’t you want to make the most of it?”

  Odette crossed her arms but quickly dropped them to her sides to avoid showing disrespect to the Ancestral Spirit. “I…” Of course she wanted to make the most of it, but how could she when demons lurked outside her door? “The demon that James killed… It was after me, wasn’t it?”

  The loa sighed, shaking her head like a disappointed mother. “You were hoping to see your met tet tonight?”

  “I don’t mean to offend, but I already know James is my soulmate. Baron Samedi could help me fight this thing that’s coming for me. Whether or not I give in to temptation with James is irrelevant. The cycle has already started.”

  “The Baron isn’t pleased with the way you’ve been living your life. All work. No fun. Refusing the gifts he blessed you with.”

  Odette cast her gaze to the floor. “I know.”

  Freda grinned. “You could start by pleasing that beau of yours.” Her husky voice sounded nothing like Darlene’s higher-pitched tone. “Let him please you, too, if you know what I mean. Your met tet knows that sex and death are part of life. How long has it been for you, child?”

  “I really don’t want to talk about this.”

  The loa lifted her chin. “You don’t want to talk about your love life with Erzulie Freda? I guess I shouldn’t have bothered coming.” She turned toward the others who continued the ceremony, dancing and drumming to honor the Spirits.

  “Wait.” Odette touched her elbow and then let her hand fall to her side. “I mean no disrespect. It’s been…a long time.”

  “How long?”

  Not since her past-life regressions with Natasha revealed what would happen when she finally fell in love. “A few years.”

  Freda let out a low whistle. “That’s too long. And with that scrumptious werewolf in your house all day, how do you resist?”

  “It hasn’t been easy, but I have to. If I give in and bring him into this, he’ll die too.”

  “He’s already in it. Like you said, the cycle has started, and he’s part of it whether you enjoy him or not.”

  Enjoy him. She could think of dozens of ways to enjoy James. Her lips curved into an involuntary smile, so she covered her mouth with her fingers.

  “Mm-hmm. You haven’t completely strayed from your met tet. He’d be proud of the thoughts that are probably dancing through your mind right now.”

  Boy, would he. Odette cleared her throat. “Message received. Thank you, Erzulie Freda.”

  The loa straightened the shawl on her shoulders, running her fingers over the silk. “I have another message for you.”

  She sucked in a breath. “From the Baron?”

  Ignoring her question, Freda sank into a chair, her playful smile slipping into a frown. “There are things you don’t know…things you can’t know until the puzzle is solved.” She folded her hands in her lap as tears collected on her lower lids.

  No. The loa’s shift in mood meant her time here was done. Odette wanted to scream. To shake the woman and beg her to answer her questions, but it was no use. Erzulie Freda’s possessions always ended in sadness.

  “James can help. The two of you have to solve the puzzle so you can break the cycle and have a lifetime of love.” Her shoulders shook with her sob. “If you don’t, you’ll both die, and your love will die too.” Lifting her gaze to Odette’s, she pleaded with her eyes. “Love is precious. Please don’t let it die this time.”

  Odette’s throat thickened, the sight of the loa in tears making her own eyes sting. “I’ll do my best.”

  With a deep, shuddering breath, Freda closed her eyes and slumped in the chair. When she came to, Darlene blinked, her gaze darting about the room. She lifted the shawl from her shoulders and folded it in her lap. “Erzulie Freda?”

  Odette nodded. Her friend wouldn’t remember a word of the conversation they’d had. Her consciousness had slipped aside for the loa to take control.

  Darlene wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Did you find out what you needed to know?”

  “A little.” Not nearly enough. Solve the puzzle. What puzzle did she mean?

  “Are you banging the Baroness yet?” Cade took a swig of beer and nodded toward the window. “Or is it a coincidence you chose a bar across from the House of Voodoo?”

  James narrowed his eyes. “Don’t be a dick.” He set his empty glass on the bar. “Her name is Odette. Show a little respect.”

  Cade raised his eyebrows and looked at Noah, who shook his head,
chuckling under his breath. James ignored his friends and let his gaze drift across Dumaine Street to the dark-green wooden door covering the entrance to the Voodoo temple. The front third of the establishment acted as a store where practitioners and tourists alike could buy dolls, potions, herbs, and gris-gris bags to help with whatever ailed their bodies or souls.

  He’d had his cards read several times in the curtained-off corner booths, and he’d glimpsed the middle section of the store, where the altars to the various Spirits were erected in the temple area. He’d never given the area much thought, but now that he’d seen Odette’s own altar in her home, curiosity had him itching to go inside.

  The green door was locked, no doubt, though. Odette and the other vodouisants were in the back third of the temple, doing whatever it was that Voodoo practitioners did when they summoned their gods.

  Cade chugged the rest of his beer and slammed the bottle on the bar. “What the hell’s wrong with you, man? You’re about as fun as a canker sore lately. Don’t tell me you’re pining over the Baron—over Odette.”

  “Pining? Hell no.” He wasn’t pining. He wanted to make the woman his, but his damn wolf was insane.

  Odette wanted him. That kiss she’d planted on him earlier in the evening was all the confirmation he’d needed, but her back and forth behavior raised his hackles. Why did they need to perform a ritual to find out where the imps had come from? The werewolves dealt with the demons in the Quarter; it was the natural way of things. The vodouisants had never gotten involved before.

  He cracked his knuckles. “She knows something… She’s hiding something from me.”

  Noah swiveled in his seat. “You starting to think she’s summoning them?”

  “No, but I think she knows who is. She’s protecting someone, and I need to find out who.”

  Chapter Ten