Wicked Unveiled

by J. N. Colon

  “Eve-angel-ine...” He drew my name out as usual, cigar smoke curling from his mouth. “Long time no see, cher.”

  I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest, keeping the towel secure. “What do you want?”

  He tsked. “Somebody don’t want to play anymore.” His head tilted, shifting the black top hat. “You don’t even seem afraid of me, girl.”

  “I’m not.” What was the point? He wouldn’t really hurt me, not until it was time to use me for whatever villainous masterplan he had up his ruffled sleeve.

  The loa took a pull off his cigar, blowing a puff of smoke out of the mirror. “The pouvior bokor must not be around. That’s why you got a stick up your ass tonight.”

  I coughed and waved the foul-smelling cloud away. “Yes, and I’m tired. I’d like to get ready for bed.”

  “By all means.” He gestured for me to continue.

  There wasn’t a snowball's chance in hell I’d drop this towel with him still looming in the bathroom mirror.

  The baron pinned me with those impenetrable onyx eyes. “You nearly ready to make your choice? Fete Gede ain’t far off.”

  “What do you want with me?” This was never about a soul for a soul like he claimed when I was ten. He wanted me because I was a conduit. And I wanted to know why.

  “Don’t worry about that.” His chuckle sent goosebumps along my bare flesh.

  Even if he was affected by some imbalance, the baron was still high on the creep-factor scale.

  “Just tell me.” My palms flattened against the marble counter as I leaned forward. “You have no intention of keeping Marisol. It's me you want, and before I just hand myself over, I want to know why.”

  The baron blinked, a line forming between his brows. For once, I’d caught him off guard. He stared at me for a long time, studying my face. “You seem different.”

  “I’ve made peace with my future.” The future where you aren’t chasing after me.

  “I see.” He tapped the ash from his cigar, tiny embers floating off beyond the edge of the mirror. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt. The day’s almost upon us.”

  I held my breath, waiting on the brink of the rocky cliff. Was the voodoo king really going to reveal why he’d been after me all these years?

  The baron took a swig of rum as if giving himself some liquid courage. He released a long breath and licked his lips. “I want to destroy the gate between the spirit world and the world of the living.”

  Um, what? That was the last thing I expected. “Why?”

  His laughter boomed around me. “Fete Gede will be celebrated every day!”

  “You want to destroy the gate between this world and the spirit world so you can party every day?” I rubbed my temples. Did the baron purposely talk in some cryptic code just to annoy me? “Don’t you already do that?”

  He tsked and removed his hat, placing it out of view. “Haven’t the bokors taught you anything about Fete Gede?”

  I shrugged. “It’s the Festival of the Dead. It’s when voodoo followers celebrate their deceased ancestors.” It was similar to Mexico’s Dia De Los Muertos.

  “That’s only part of it, cher.” Tiny flickers of crimson lit his onyx irises. “As keeper of the dead, I’m praised on that day as well. People give thanks to me for allowing their ancestors into the spirit world. They dance. They drink.” He tipped the bottle of rum up again, taking a gulp. “They have fun all in the name of me.”

  Baron Samedi was one narcissistic deity.

  “The more worship I receive, the more power I have, and the more control over all of voodoo I’m granted.” A slow smile lifted the edges of his lips. “Imagine how strong I’d be if I were praised so fervently every day and not just by Louange le Noir. Every voodoo caster in existence would participate.”

  Ice spilled through my veins, chilling my body. I shivered in the steamy room. The baron’s intentions began to unfold like an accident in slow motion.

  It was a terrible sight.

  “Fete Gede is the one day the veil between worlds is lifted, and spirits can join their living family and friends to celebrate.” The cigar appeared between his fingers, smoke ominously curling through the mirror. “Without the gates, the veil wouldn’t exist, and they could party and praise the keeper of the dead, healer of the living—me—always. I’ll truly be the king of voodoo then.”

  He was batshit crazy.

  “There’d be no place for the dead to cross over. No peace.” Images of ghosts haunting every square inch of this world flashed through my vision. Humans would be guests at the baron’s macabre dinner parties in the cemetery. If this delusional deity were really the top loa for all of voodoo, I could only imagine what would happen to this ancient magic.

  Every drop of moisture had evaporated from my mouth. That wasn’t the kind of world I wanted to live in. “Why do you need me?” I asked, swallowing past the sand covering my tongue. “You’re an all-powerful voodoo loa. Can’t you just obliterate the gate yourself?”

  “It aint that simple.” He placed the top hat back on, tilting it until it was just right. “I didn’t make the gate. I only watch over it. I need more power to destroy something the bondye maintains. A boost, if you will.” He flicked his long finger toward me. “Just the kind a conduit can offer.”

  Baron Samedi’s form slowly dissolved from the mirror, his ominous laughter echoing after him. I leaned on the counter, my shoulders taut and knees quivering. My stomach twisted. I finally knew what the deity wanted.

  And I wanted to forget it. I’d rather live in blissful ignorance.

  Chapter 19

  The rubber soles of my fuzzy boots tapped against the railing, echoing through Le Revenant. I’d been sitting in the same position at the top of the crimson stairs for the past hour. The club was opening soon, and Etie still hadn’t returned.

  When he called earlier and said he was headed back, there was something off about his voice. He wouldn’t tell me what he and Henri had discovered.

  Was it as bad as what the baron wanted? Destroying the gate between worlds was no joke. On the surface, it might not seem like such a terrible idea. Departed souls could visit loved ones who were still alive. But what would happen to the souls who wanted to be at peace? There was more to the spirit world than Baron Samedi’s cemetery party. Not every being wanted the living traipsing around in their final resting spot.

  What about the spirits who wanted to haunt the living? There’d be no escaping them.

  The worst part about the baron’s crazy scheme was what it would do to voodoo. For one loa to be so much more powerful than the others went against the entire balance concept of voodoo. This could obliterate the scale completely.

  “Must you continue that?” Vaus stood at the bottom of the stairs, his icy gray eyes glaring at me. “That’s the most annoying sound in the world.” He crossed his massive arms against his chest, the lights warming his smooth, dark skin.

  I winced and pressed my heels into the stair. “Sorry.” The loogaroo who guarded the doors to Le Revenant was as intimidating in his human form as he was a charcoal pit bull. “I’m just anxious.”

  “Thank Hecate.” Rafe was pulling the chairs off the tables surrounding the bar. “I thought I was going to have to put a mutium spell on her.”

  I gave him the one finger salute. “You’re one to talk. You spent an hour the other day explaining how to get the perfect mohawk. You didn’t think that was annoying?”

  He scoffed and cleaned the table with a word and the wave of his hand. “You were into it. I know you secretly have a crush on me.”

  I pretended to gag. “When pigs fly.”

  “Leave my little bunny alone. She misses her alimèt.” Micha emerged from the back, strolling across the polished onyx floor with a slow swagger. He winked. “You can’t blame her for the effects of the gwo-bon lyen.” Hair so black it was nearly blue fell in waves around his sculpted face and framed a pair of arctic blue eyes.

  I smiled at the other loogar
oo guard. “Thanks, Micha. You’re the nice one.”

  “I’m nice.” Vaus scowled. “I just like to keep my eardrums from popping.”

  The keening sound of the lock releasing thundered through the cavernous room, and the doors slowly creaked open. My toujou flared to life as Etie slipped inside. His mismatched eyes landed on me, sending hot shivers down my spine.

  I bolted from the stairs and found myself wrapped in his warm, heady embrace. My fingers dug into his back as I breathed in his familiar scent of spices and herbs.

  “Did you miss me, cher?” He laughed, but his voice was raw. This separation had been the longest we’d had in weeks.

  “Nope. Not one bit.” Lies!

  I buried my face in his neck, ignoring the trepidation twisting my gut. I had to tell him what Baron Samedi wanted.

  After someone cleared his throat for the fifth time, Etie finally pulled away, glaring at Henri over his shoulder. “Can’t that wait?” he growled.

  His father shook his head. “Time is of the essence, Étienne. We can’t hold off if you want answers before it’s too late.”

  Etie’s nostrils flared. “Fine.”

  “Someone want to explain what’s going on?” When no one responded, I pressed my hands on Etie’s cheeks, forcing his head in my direction. “Let me rephrase that. You better tell me what’s going on.”

  The tendons in the bokor’s jaw flexed. “Angeline, I’d rather not have you involved in this.”

  “And I’d rather you not be a jackass, but we both know that’s not going to happen so…” My words trailed off.

  A mix between a sigh and a growl slithered between his teeth. “You’re not going to like it.”

  I released him and stepped back, crossing my arms against my chest as if it could protect me from the terrible news. “Out with it. Did you find a way to weaken the baron?”

  “No, but we know exactly how to get that information,” he said evasively.

  “Okay…” I motioned with my hand for him to continue. “And how is that?” Geez. This was like pulling teeth.

  Etie rubbed his fingers along his currently stubbly—and very sexy—chin. “We have to contact a being called Resix. He has the answers.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Would you just spit it out already, Etie. I’m getting age spots waiting.”

  Henry stepped forward, harsh lines etching his face. “We have to call upon Resix, a demon.”

  My blood iced over. “A demon? A baka?” Images of the one who tormented me came rushing back. My skin prickled at the phantom feel of bugs crawling over me.

  Etie nodded, his expression grim. “That’s why I don’t want you involved.”

  A long breath blew from my lungs, and I tried in vain to rub the goosebumps from my arms. “Why would a baka have the answers to weakening Baron Samedi?” Getting intel from a demon sounded like a bad plan to follow.

  “Resix hates the baron,” Henri explained, interrupting the panic beginning to envelop my mind. “Something happened centuries ago. No one’s sure. But the baka holds the key to the loa’s demise. He discovered it through dark magic.”

  Again—bad idea.

  Etie’s hand landed on my shoulder. “We have to do this, Angeline. We have to stop him no matter what.”

  “Whatever the baron wants with you can’t be good,” Henri added.

  I licked my dry lips. “I know what he wants.” Ugh. I wanted to hurl. The bad just kept coming.

  Etie’s fingers flexed on my shoulder. “How?”

  “He came to me in a mirror last night.” I shivered, but it wasn’t from the image of Baron Samedi. It was from the baka they wanted to summon.

  “Tell me, cher.” Etie pulled me closer, his eyes suddenly wild and desperate.

  “He wants to use my conduit power to boost his so he can destroy the gate between worlds.” A humorless laugh escaped my mouth. “He thinks without the veil between worlds, every day will be Fete Gede, and all voodoo casters will worship him over the other loa. He believes this will make him strong enough to rule over all of voodoo. He’ll be the true voodoo king.”

  “That can’t happen.” Color drained from Etie’s cheeks. “Not to mention the chaos it would cause in this world and within voodoo, doing something like tapping into a loa’s power would destroy your soul.”

  “You’re damn right,” Henri hissed. The energy around him began to vibrate. “There’s no telling what would happen without a barrier between worlds. And if Baron Samedi truly becomes the voodoo king and outranks all other loa, I fear for the future of our magic.”

  “I’m not going to let that happen.” Etie’s body was wound so tight, one tap to his chest could shatter him like brittle glass. “I’m not going to let Baron Samedi destroy your soul.”

  Contacting a demon was how he was going to stop the dark loa. That sounded like a swell idea. Nothing could go wrong.

  Bastien drew another swirling symbol on Etie’s bare chest, the air already filled with herbs and the electric tang of magic. Apparently, two bokors and an ancient voodoo priestess weren’t enough to summon this demon.

  “I don’t like this, Etie. Why can’t he lead the ritual?” Bastien jerked his chin toward their father who was stooped over, spreading a dry mixture into a circle in the center of Mama CeCe’s ritual room.

  I didn’t like it either.

  Henri stood. “Because your brother is the strongest of us, and he’ll be able to contain the demon within this ansèkle. Or would you rather Resix get out and descend on all those delicious casters and witches in the club downstairs?”

  My stomach rolled. Would he really eat them?

  “I’d prefer it if that didn’t happen.” Mama CeCe rummaged around on her altar table, grabbing a neckless with a petrified chicken foot dangling from it like a morbid charm.

  Ick.

  “Even better,” she continued, plucking a jar of herbs and pouring it into a bowl. “I say we don’t summon a demon into my home.”

  Henri marched to the corner of the room, grabbing a stack of stones. “You’re more than welcomed to leave, priestess, but we’re doing this with or without you.”

  A barking laugh exited her lips. “You expect me to leave my own ritual room while you three jump into dark voodoo?” Her eyes shifted toward me. “And believe me, calling a demon, especially one as old and hateful as Resix, is darker than you’ve ever seen, cher.”

  A heavy pit of dread settled in the bottom of my stomach. This was worse than raising a vivankò. A serious shit storm unfolded in the cemetery that night. If something went wrong, I could only imagine the disaster that could explode.

  Warnings rang in the back of my mind. Turn around. Go back the way you came. Do not pass go.

  “Enough.” Danger riddled Etie’s low growl of a voice. “We’re doing this, Mama CeCe. We don’t have a choice.”

  “Etie, are you sure?” I sounded like a scared little girl—because I was a scared little girl. We were going to summon a demon for shit sakes!

  Etie sighed and pivoted toward me, his eyes already taking on a luminescent sheen. “Angeline, please, I really want you to wait in the club. This ain’t no place for you.” Pain tore through his center. I could literally feel it.

  He didn’t want me to see him go this dark. Or was he afraid I’d lose control of my powers, and I’d tap into his darkness even more?

  “No.” Henri’s sharp tone sliced through the room. “Evangeline needs to remain near you.”

  Etie’s head whipped around. “Why?”

  He placed another stone along the circle. “She makes you stronger, and she can help if needed.”

  Bastien cursed. “You’d risk anything to make his power stronger no matter the consequences. And now you want to involve Angeline?” Power spilled through the atmosphere, stirring Bastien’s blond hair.

  “It’s not what I want,” Henri hissed. “This isn’t about me. This is about saving Evangeline, your brother’s alimèt.” He flicked his hand in my direction. “If I were st
rong enough to do it, I would.” His mouth hardened. “You know how much I hate to admit I’m weaker than someone.”

  “And what if Angel loses control of her own powers?” Bastien slammed the bowl he was holding on a table, the dark liquid sloshing out. “The last time that happened, he almost raised a whole army of vivankòs.”

  Way to tear my confidence apart. After training with Rafe—and the boost my father gave me—I thought I had a good hold on my powers. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t be near Etie during this voodoo spell.

  Henri yelled in French, making Bastien go rigid.

  “Both of you stop.” Etie’s nostrils flared, and his power rose to the surface. “We don’t have time to argue.” He glanced at me. “I know you can control your power. You can stay if you want.” He turned back to his father. “But she’s not helping.” When Henri opened his mouth to protest, Etie continued. “That’s final.”

  And the almighty pouvior bokor has spoken.

  Bastien mumbled under his breath and stomped away from the other two bokors. He sidled up to me, his whole body vibrating.

  “You okay?” I asked. He was rarely this agitated.

  “Fine.” He dragged his fingers through his hair, pulling the strands into a ponytail at the base of his neck. “I don’t think you’re going to lose control. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “It’s okay.” I gently nudged his shoulder. “I know you’re just worried about Etie.”

  “I am.” He withdrew a cigarette from his pocket, rolling it between his fingers. “This is going to be bad. I know it.”

  “I’ll make sure he’s okay,” I said, trying to choke back the waves of dread. “I promise.” This was one promise I couldn’t break.

  Bastien gave a quick nod.

  Etie walked toward me. His bare chest was covered in symbols, and an iridescent sheen had consumed his blue and green eyes. I choked back an appreciative sigh. He looked like a voodoo god capable of tearing the world in half.

  “Give us a minute, Bastien.” Etie never took his gaze off me as his brother walked away. His hands landed on my shoulders, squeezing. “At any point, if this gets too much, you can leave.”