by J. N. Colon
My parents had also moved to the coven house while Abuela stayed in Carrefour. Other family members from the De la Mora line had returned to the house and started a small chapter of Covina de Validus in Carrefour with my grandmother in charge.
It was strange seeing her so engrossed in magic, but it fit her well. She was right at home. Cooking for a full house again brought a smile to her face.
The witches from Liseria’s coven who were found innocent were released. They’d all been forced to follow her. Rafe and Josie—aka Madam Monnier—joined Covina de Validus, but both remained in Monroe.
Marisol pried me away from Lucas, squeezing me in a death grip. “There’s my hero.”
She called me hero every time I saw her. That was what I got for saving her twice. Never mind she was in danger at all because a psycho voodoo god wanted my powers.
Marisol pulled back, checking out my costume. She gave an approving nod. We were both dressed as witches. Marisol was just a touch more over-the-top than me with a leather and lace outfit. She couldn’t help herself.
A grin split her red lips. “Have you seen Trisha Belmont?”
I shook my head. I tried to steer clear of her. Even after a year, she was still trying to get Etie to nibble on her cheaply bated hook.
Not happening.
“She’s dressed as Catwoman.” My sister could barely contain her laughter. “Her right butt cheek is about to split that black pleather monstrosity she’s squeezed into.”
I snorted. “She’d probably just let her butt hang out all night.”
“That girl is never going to give up.” Marisol shook her head. “Etie is taken—like forever.”
“He’s definitely off the market permanently.” A tingle rippled through my toujou just before warm, familiar hands landed on my shoulders.
“Angeline, you disappeared on me.” Etie’s rough whisper made my insides squirm.
He still teased me about dragging me down the aisle, but I could see the seriousness under his jokes. He was really going to ask me to marry him one day, and I had a feeling it was going to be sooner rather than later.
Was I ready for marriage with the Cajun Casanova? Of course, that was assuming I survived the honeymoon…
I spun around to face him, my pulse spiking. How was it possible this guy could still make me weak in the knees with just one smile? “Lana and Riley wanted to look at some decorations. They were curious about Fete Gede.”
His hands roamed over my hips, his mismatched eyes smoldering. “Well, I’m curious about these tasty lips.” Etie’s mouth sealed to mine.
Holy voodoo dolls. My toes curled in my boots. The world around me washed away, and nothing existed but Etie and me. My alimèt. My soul mate. He was heaven and hell all wrapped up into one. He was wickedly untamed. Sinful and sweet. Étienne Benoit was light and dark and everything I could ever want.
Someone cleared her throat again. “You guys are worse than us.” Marisol made fake gagging sounds. “Save it for the bedroom.”
I pulled away from Etie, rolling my eyes. “I had to deal with you and your boyfriends sucking face for years. Now it’s your turn.”
A groan spilled from Lucas. “Please, Angel. I try not to think of Marisol’s past love life. I like to pretend I’m the only guy she’s ever loved.”
My sister fluttered her lashes at him. “Don’t worry, Lu Bear. You are the only one I loved.”
He made a halfhearted grimace. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
A wicked smile curled her lips, and she grabbed his hand. “Come on. I know something that’ll make you feel better.” She dragged him away.
Ugh. I didn’t even want to think of what she had in mind.
“Having a good time, cher?” Etie tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my cheek.
“Yeah. You?” I’d have an even better time at home.
And home was wherever Etie was.
We spent half the time in town at my house and the other in the swamp at his. It was too hard to choose one. I was learning witchcraft and studying voodoo. I was bound to a pouvior bokor. Both types of magic were part of my life now.
“Etie! Etie! Over here. I need your help.” Ms. Unrue was practically jogging to us, her frizzy orange hair wild around her ruddy cheeks.
A patient smile spread the bokor’s lips. Ever since he’d saved her pug Chauncey from a fire in the woods, Ms. Unrue had softened up to him. Hell, she practically worshipped Etie. She called him her voodoo guardian angel.
The pudgy woman opened one of the pamphlets, frantically pointing to something. “Did I get this name right? Someone said it was wrong.”
He leaned forward, his brows dipping. “It’s supposed to be Maman Brigette, not Maman Betty.”
Her face fell. “Oh no. I messed it all up, and I just wanted it to be perfect.” Ms. Unrue tossed her hands in the air. “And I can’t even fix it. There’s no time.”
Etie and I traded glances. He was about to become her voodoo hero.
“It’s okay, cher.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “We’re going to fix it, yeah? Even the ones you already gave out.”
“But how—” Her mouth formed an O. “Are you talking about using some voodoo?”
He gave her a conspiratorial wink.
“Oh.” She clapped, and a toothy grin broke across her face. She looked like Garfield and the Cheshire Cat all rolled into one. “Tell me what I need to do.” Her joyful expression faltered. “But I ain’t cutting the head off a chicken. I draw the line at mutilating animals.”
Etie unleashed a heart-stopping smile. “Nothing like that, Ms. Unrue. I promise.” Etie blew me a kiss as he drew the town gossip away.
I shook my head. Not long ago, Ms. Unrue and most people in Carrefour trembled at the sight of the Benoit brothers, especially Etie. The town’s sudden acceptance of them couldn’t have come at a better time. After finding out their father was really the loa of dark magic, things were shaky for a while. Even Bastien had seemed withdrawn every now and then.
Like always, Etie had his days where the darkness was hard to keep in line. He struggled with it and sometimes pushed me away. Well, he tried. I was usually right there, annoying him back to normal.
I sipped my cup of cider. Instead of tasting apples and cinnamon, the faint tang of rum coated my tongue. My brow furrowed. It certainly hadn’t been spiked when Antoine handed it to me.
The sickly sweet odor of cigars perfumed the air.
My heart leaped in my throat. I frantically searched the crowd. A tall, black top hat with a crimson scarf stood out
No freaking way.
I started after it, following it through the dark street. There was no reason for him to be haunting me again. He had no claim on me. He didn’t need conduit powers.
Not unless Kalfou had returned and…
I sprinted into an alley, my pulse hammering. About halfway in, the thick shadows cleared, revealing the tall creature leaning against the brick wall. A wide smile tipped the edges of his lips.
“Eve-angel-ine… We meet again.” Baron Samedi’s words dripped with a smooth Cajun accent.
I closed the distance between us and crossed my arms against my chest. “What are you doing here?”
His laughter echoed through the narrow passageway. “Your whole town is celebrating Fete Gede! Did you not think I would come to such a lovely party?”
My eyes narrowed. “Fete Gede is tomorrow.”
“Soon.” He tapped his wrist as if he wore a watch. “You’re not happy to see me, cher?” When I didn’t answer, he tsked. “I thought we were passed all that nastiness. It wasn’t my fault.”
I sighed and leaned against the wall across from him. Some of the pressure eased from my muscles. Baron Samedi didn’t seem to be here to cause any trouble. “Seeing you sneaking around just gave me flashbacks.” I motioned toward his usual attire. “Don’t you normally dress a little more festive for Fete Gede.”
“I’m a loa, gi
rl.” He snapped, and his black suit morphed into a flashy purple one with gold embellishments. A black-silk ruffled shirt hugged his chest. Skulls decorated the rim of his black hat, and a pair of sunglasses with one lens missing fit snuggly over his painted face. “Is this what you had in mind, cher?”
He was definitely the most flamboyant loa I’d met thus far. “You look ready to party.”
A cigar appeared between his fingers. “I’m always ready to party.”
The dong of a clock sounded, signaling midnight. It was now officially Fete Gede.
“Are you worried?” I asked the baron.
One brow arched. “What would I be worried about?”
“Kalfou.” The name still tasted sour in my mouth. “What if he returns?”
He waved his hand in the air. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
The fear of Kalfou’s return always lingered in the back of my mind. Would the day ever come?
A polished onyx and gold cane appeared in the loa’s hand. “I got to start my Fete Gede rounds. Lots of people expecting a visit.”
Baron Samedi tipped his hat and began ambling down the alley. He glanced over his shoulder. “If you ever need anything, just go to a crossroads, the place life meets death, where water meets land, or road meets road. You’ll find me there.” His smile slowly grew. “For you, I’m always willing to make a deal, Eve-angel-ine…”
The baron disappeared in a puff of smoke, deep rumbles of laughter echoing.
I shook my head. I would never make a deal with the voodoo king again. I’d learned my lesson. Once was enough. Twice was too many. And a third time wasn’t happening.
Probably.
Most likely.
Hell, I had a talent for getting myself into trouble. A third deal with the voodoo king was probably, most likely inevitable…
The End.
Find out how Angel and Etie really met for the first time in the prequel novella, Cursed Voodoo. It’ll be available in a FREE boxed set this January.
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Read more from J.N. Colon
THE VAMPIRE PROPHECY
Dark Fates
Dark Divide
Dark Oblivion
THE IRON SERIES
Blood In Iron
Badly In Blood
Blood Lies
Torn By Blood
Blood Shattered
DIVINE DARKNESS
Dark Souls
Dark Sins
Dark Prophecy
Dark Goddess
SECRET SALEM
Stalked
Hunted
Haunted
Tormented
About the Author
USA Today Bestselling author J.N. Colon writes young adult and new adult paranormal romance and urban fantasy. She’s a bonified paranormal junkie, getting her fixes from books, television, and movies. Her favorite day of the year is Halloween, and she’s dying to go ghost hunting one day. Stop by her website and learn more about her and her books.
www.jncolon.com
