Hidden Conduit- The Complete Series

by J. N. Colon

  A line formed between Etie’s brows. “I thought you moved here when you were a kid.”

  I licked my dry lips. “I did.”

  Etie lifted his thick shoulder. “Maybe he visited Carrefour and liked the house. He took a picture. People do that.”

  “Why would it be in a photo album of the previous owner?” My breathing was shallow as I flipped through the pages. Most of the people were of Hispanic origin. “This is just…weird.”

  The dim lights above flickered, momentarily tearing me away from the picture. “The electricity needs to be checked,” I muttered.

  “Angeline,” Etie called, his head tilting as he surveyed me. Something unreadable flashed across his expression, but it was gone before I had time to analyze it. “I’m sure there’s an explanation for this.” He gently rubbed my shoulder, trying to soothe the storm of unease brewing inside me.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.” I turned back to the image of my dad, nodding despite the knots twisting my stomach.

  My neck still tingled with the ghost of Etie’s lips. We’d been so close to kissing. My mouth longed for his, and then that damn photo had yanked it all away.

  I shifted in my bed, rolling over for the umpteenth time. It was now 3 AM and I’d barely gotten a wink of sleep. My mind kept jumping between Etie, my father’s picture, and the vivankò attack.

  Something wasn’t making sense here. My father said the owners moved away decades ago. How did his picture end up with their stuff? Why was he even in Carrefour? And why didn’t he ever mention it?

  The rattle of my door handle interrupted my dizzying thoughts. My pulse spiked as it slowly turned.

  Oh man. Not now.

  All sorts of monsters could be on the other side of the door. A vivankò, dark voodoo spirits, or even the voodoo king.

  My fingers curled in my sheets, my body trembling as a dark head of hair pushed through the opening.

  “Flaca?” Marisol’s eyes found mine. “Are you awake?”

  A deep breath expelled from my lungs, and my body went lax, sinking into the mattress. “Yeah.”

  She slipped in, and hopped on the other side of my bed, shimmying beneath the covers.

  My brow arched. “What are you doing?” We hadn’t slept in the same bed since she returned from the hospital after her miraculous recovery.

  “I had a bad dream.” She settled her head on a pillow. “It was super creepy actually.”

  They couldn’t top my uber scary nightmares of Baron Samedi. “What about?”

  Lines creased her forehead as she recalled the details. “I was a little girl, like eight or nine maybe. I was sitting in a white circle on the floor in a room lit by hundreds of candles.”

  Ice flooded my veins. It sounded like something out of a voodoo ritual.

  She shivered. “I was placed directly in the center of a pentagram.”

  My head shifted back. “A pentagram?” That wasn’t voodoo.

  Marisol nodded. “Dad stood at the point in front of me. Abuela was behind me, and three other people I didn’t recognize stood at the others. They were chanting.”

  Chills seeped through my flesh, puckering my skin. I had dreams about our dad all the time, but nothing so macabre. “That is pretty creepy.”

  She flashed me a wry smile. “I was watching The Craft earlier, so that probably had something to do with it.”

  A hollow laugh escaped my lungs, and I hoped it was as simple as that. “Yeah.”

  Her gaze sought out the picture of our father on my dresser. “It was weird that he was in my nightmare, though. And Abuela.”

  I shrugged. “You were probably just thinking about them before you fell asleep.” The photo of our father I’d found was tucked in my nightstand drawer. I could easily reach over and take it out. I could just as easily leave it there and remain blissfully ignorant.

  “I guess.” Marisol twisted on her side, tucking her hands under her head. “Remember when I came home from the hospital, and you refused to sleep anywhere but my bed for like a week?”

  “How could I forget?” I had saved her life by trading my soul.

  “It was really cute.” She pinched my cheek, and I swatted her hand. “It was like you thought I was going to croak any second.”

  My cheeks grew cold, and I averted my eyes so she couldn’t see the emotions lingering in them. Marisol had no idea how true that was. For the first two weeks, I was afraid the voodoo king wasn’t strong enough to heal her, and she was going to slip away for good.

  Clearly, I’d been worried for nothing. Marisol remained healthy while I remained doomed.

  Chapter 16

  Those mismatched eyes glared into mine, hard and burning. My skin sweltered, and a drop of sweat ran down my temple.

  I had one week left.

  Seven days and I was no closer to finding a solution than I had been months ago. And Etie had picked a fine time to disappear for days and then reappear as the jerkwad I first met. It was as if that almost kiss never happened.

  “What are you doing with that?” he growled and stalked toward me, reaching for the nail gun in my hand.

  I shifted back before he could grab it. “What does it look like? I’m working.” I squatted and shot another nail into the baseboard.

  “Do you remember what happened the last time you were holding a nail gun?” He loomed over me, all massive six-foot-something of him. Dark locks tumbled into his flushed face.

  The feeling of running my fingers through those strands played through my mind, as did the burning of his lips on my skin.

  I shook the memories off and returned to the present. He’d been gone for three days. Without one single word. He just disappeared. And returned with douchebag syndrome. He gave more thought to a piece of candy than me.

  Bastien said he was off working another job, but it was easy to detect the lie from the oldest Benoit. He was good at keeping secrets and yet terrible at lying about his brother to me.

  Etie’s eyes glowed as the air crackled. Without warning, the power tool was ripped from my hands, landing in his. He cut it off and set it out of reach.

  I shot up, my jaw clenched. “What the hell is your problem?” He didn’t even budge when I pushed his shoulder.

  “You’re going to hurt yourself with this thing,” he hissed.

  I scoffed. “As if you care.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Bastien taught me how to use it while you were gone.” I tried to brush past him to snatch it back. “So if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to work.”

  His nostrils flared, and his eyes narrowed, one emerald shard and one hard sapphire staring into me with enough intensity to shake my entire core. But I stood my ground, determined to mask how much his absence hurt.

  “I’m going to kill Bastien,” he mumbled under his breath before spinning around and stalking out of the door.

  “At least he’s giving me something better to do than sanding the banister,” I called after his retreating form.

  I blinked back the tears burning in my eyes and swallowed the rising lump. I would not let his stupid pouvior bokor mood swings get to me. We’d struck a deal to help each other. That was all. Besides, Etie Benoit was a player, and I was not about to get played.

  Helping him find the bokal was all he really wanted.

  With a huff, I picked up the nail gun and returned to the task of installing new baseboards.

  “Angel?” A pair of scuffed boots appeared in my periphery. Tan fingers reached down, cutting off the power tool.

  I gave Bastien a narrowed glare. “What now?” I grabbed the hand he offered and stood. “Did your brother come crying to you? Does he want you to give me a different job?”

  A half smile curled his lips. “Nah. He did threaten to curse me and make all of my hair fall out if I gave you another power tool.” He shivered dramatically. “I’d like to keep my beautiful locks. The ladies love them.”

  A groan tumbled from my mouth, and I leaned against the wall, tilting my he
ad back. “Your brother is such an ass sometimes. What’s his problem today anyway?”

  “You are.”

  My mouth dropped, but before I could trade insults, Bastien continued, “Your voodoo problem is Etie’s problem.” Bastien sighed and leaned against the wall next to me, crossing his arms. “He’s been in New Orleans for the last few days searching for help.”

  All the hot air deflated from me like a balloon. “Help?”

  He nodded. “He sought out some other voodoo covens he thought would have more information on Baron Samedi.”

  I swallowed hard. “I’m guessing from the grim expression you’re wearing he didn’t have any luck.”

  Bastien shook his head. “He’s frustrated, Angel. Actually, he’s pissed. It’s not often my brother is stumped like this.” His amber eyes stared into mine, soft, warm, and honest. “You’re running out of time, and he feels helpless. He’s scared.”

  My brows knit. “Scared of what?”

  He clucked his teeth. “Scared of losing you. He won’t say it, but I’m his brother. I know.”

  I scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. Etie barely likes me on a good day.”

  “We both know that’s bullshit.” He leaned away from the wall, shooting me his usual smirk. “You’re different, Angel. He saw that the minute you walked in here. And he wouldn’t be going through all of this if he didn’t care.” He winked and sauntered out of the room before I could protest.

  My gaze drifted out of the window, instantly finding Etie below. The cabinet door he was sanding by hand was taking a serious beating. His muscles stretched and coiled while sweat already coated his tan skin. His face was carved from stone, eyes just as sharp. There wasn’t going to be any door left if he continued.

  An invisible fist reached inside my chest, squeezing my heart. Clearly, something was bothering him. Was Bastien right? Was Etie scared he was going to lose me? Or was he just frustrated because, for the first time, he couldn’t figure out this voodoo mystery?

  Beams of silvery moonlight drifted in through the windows, glinting on the random objects around me as I sat in the center of the attic. Stacks of boxes I’d already been through were scattered across the floor. I had no idea what a bokal was or what it was used for, but it had to be in one of the boxes. Everything else in the house belonged to us.

  Whatever his reasons, Etie had been doing a lot to discover a way out of this deal. It only seemed fair I put a little more effort into locating the bokal for him.

  Something deep in my gut told me I’d recognize a magical object when I found one. Maybe it was the hold Baron Samedi had on my soul.

  What else could it be?

  Flashes of Madame Monnier’s filled my mind. The sparks from the crescent moons carved into the rock’s surface vibrated over my fingertips again.

  Static electricity. That was all it was.

  I shook the thoughts off and stretched my legs out, groaning at the aching sitting in one position had caused. It was a few minutes before midnight, and I’d been at this for hours. My eyes trailed over the crap of nonsense.

  This was a waste of time. I needed Etie for this.

  My body slowly eased back as I laid my head on the floor. I contemplated calling him, but he already seemed like a loose cannon. Plus, he didn’t speak another word to me at work today. Instead, he remained outside in the heat, hand sanding cabinet doors.

  I rolled over, using my hands to push myself up. A faint white line was painted on the wooden planks.

  My brow furrowed as I followed it, the line disappearing beneath a stack of boxes. I stood and slid them back. More faded markings continued.

  Once all the debris had been cleared, I moved back and got a good look at what I uncovered. I had to squint and fill in the blanks with my mind, but it was clear what had been painted in white at one time.

  A pentagram.

  Cold descended through the pit of my stomach while chills skittered down my spine.

  I never would have noticed it had I not been moving boxes around for hours. Before it just seemed like random slashes of paint, half of it rubbed away over time. Now I was staring at a symbol of witchcraft.

  There had to be a reason the bokal was at my house. The previous owners—whoever they were—had been into witchcraft. I could ask Ms. Unrue, but I didn’t want to give her any reason to start snooping around my family or me.

  My eyes were drawn to the center of the pentagram where three interlocking crescent moons were placed.

  Blood thundered in my ears. The lights above flickered, casting ominous shadows along the walls. Maybe the attic really was haunted.

  I wiped cold sweat from my forehead with my hand as I backed away from the pentagram. I needed to cover it up. My mom would freak, and Abuela might call an exorcist.

  Instead, as if I couldn’t get away fast enough, I continued toward the door until my fingers brushed the knob. The last thing I wanted to do was touch the crescent symbol again.

  Chapter 17

  Yelling echoed from the Leroux house followed by a loud crash. My feet took the wobbly steps two at a time. I pushed the door open and pursued the rapid French mixed with English coming from the Benoit brothers.

  “Why would you do this!” Bastien yelled, his fists clenched by his sides. He said something in French that had Etie’s face turning a deep shade of crimson. “You were born with it. It’s part of who you are.”

  “My powers don’t define me!” Etie was back to English—well, sort of. “They aren’t who I am.”

  Bastien’s amber eyes smoldered as he stepped closer to his brother, challenging him. He was older, but there was something wild and unleashed about the younger Benoit. “You are a pouvior bokor, Étienne. You’re a fool if you think your powers haven’t shaped who you are.” He motioned a shaking hand toward his brother’s chest. “You are a living, breathing piece of voodoo balance. You can’t just rip it all out!”

  “I can and I will,” Etie growled. “I will find the bokal and do the ritual. There’s nothing you can say to change my mind.”

  A humorless laugh slipped from Bastien. “You really think a little bokal is going to be enough for someone like you? You think it’ll be strong enough to tear your powers out?”

  Blood drained from my face, leaving me cold even in the hot house. “You want to get rid of your powers?”

  Etie’s eyes flashed toward me for only a moment, but it was long enough to see the truth in them.

  “It’ll do the job.” Etie’s fists clenched by his sides. “I’ve never felt another one like it before. The energy is massive.”

  Bastien shook his head, his lips curling in contempt. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to let you destroy part of what you are.”

  “Try and stop me.” Etie’s voice was low and ominous, chills skating down each of my vertebrae. “Like you could—”

  Etie’s words were cut off as Bastien swung, clipping him in the chin. They both ignored my loud gasp as the fight began. Tremors exploded through Etie’s body, and he lunged for his brother, tackling him to the floor.

  I ran forward, my heart tapping out a frantic staccato. “Stop it!” Neither of them heard me over their guttural growls.

  Etie quickly overtook Bastien, pinning him and delivering a punch to his jaw.

  “Etie, stop!” Flashes of him nearly beating Wayland to a pulp danced through my mind. I feared he’d do the same to Bastien.

  As it turned out, I didn’t need to worry. The oldest Benoit could take care of himself.

  Bastien muttered something under his breath, and Etie was tossed into the air. A loud crash resonated as his body collided with the wall. Bastien scrambled up, his eyes glowing like neon lights. Energy shimmered in the air, thick and palpable.

  A feral snarl split Etie’s mouth, his own eyes taking on that otherworldly illumination. “Oh, you want to go that way, brother? You want to challenge me with magic, yeah?” He slowly stood, his muscles quivering.

  Bastien scoffed and wiped
blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. “You despise what you have all because of what our father did.” He shook his head. “It’s a shame you let that weak bastard defeat you.” He flicked his hand out. “Deplase ale!”

  Etie ducked, and the wall behind him cracked, raining old drywall.

  “Hey!” My breath was shallow as adrenaline pumped through my heart. He could have seriously hurt Etie. They could both be hurt. Or killed. “Stop it right now. Both of you.”

  They paid me no attention. A fly would have made a bigger impression.

  Etie tossed Bastien through the doorway with a flick of his hand and one word of Vondou. The loud clatter of wood echoed through the hollow house. I sprinted into the other room as Bastien was digging himself out of the rubble from the once-solid banister.

  “Are you kidding me!” I shouted, motioning toward the destruction. “Do you know how many hours I spent sanding that thing? With my bare hands?” The blisters were still healing.

  Etie stalked toward his brother.

  I moved, cutting off his pursuit. “Oh no. You guys want to kill each other, take it outside.”

  Without much effort, Etie grabbed my arms and spun me behind him.

  My nostrils flared as my blood heated, burning through my veins with enough intensity I could have shot magic from my own fingers. “ENOUGH!” My voice filled the house, reverberating off the walls.

  The lights in the antique chandelier flickered, and the heavy metal swayed, dust particles raining down.

  Both boys halted, their glowing eyes glued to me.

  The creaking of the chandelier filled the sudden silence. My hair stood on end, a knot fisting in my gut.

  The lights in this house flickered all the time. It was old. No biggie.

  “What is going on?” Bastien mumbled.

  His voice snapped Etie to attention, his body shifting toward the older Benoit again.

  “No way.” I snatched his arm, pulling him with me. Or trying anyway.