Hidden Conduit- The Complete Series

by J. N. Colon

  “I’m surprised she didn’t do it sooner,” Riley said, looking at a sparkly pink top. “Does this say me?”

  Bright, flashy, and over-the-top? “Yes.”

  She smiled. “I’m going to get it.”

  Lana cleared her throat and absentmindedly fiddled with the ends of her long ponytail. “So, Henri Benoit’s back in town. What’s he like?”

  It was only a matter of time before one of them asked.

  “He’s complex.”

  He was dangerous—no doubt about it—but he was also a lot calmer than I expected. I’d always pictured the dark bokor with an angry snarl and flashing eyes. Anyone who mistreated their children like he had couldn’t have much of a soul. Henri said he’d changed and regretted what he did, but he was still apart of Lounage le Noir. He couldn’t be that sorry. That group held the dark loa higher than the others. They called Baron Samedi the voodoo king. Anyone connected with him was bad news in my book.

  “Why, Angel, what a nice surprise to see you.” Ms. Beauchamp stopped next to us, several shopping bags hanging off her thin arms.

  A silent groan echoed through my head. The snooty widow was the last person I wanted to deal with. Instead of telling her off like I wanted to, I plastered a fake smile on my face. “Hi, Ms. Beauchamp.”

  She turned to Lana and Riley. “How was your trip to Spain?”

  Riley smiled. “It was great. Lots of sightseeing and stuff.” She really meant lots of clubs and shopping.

  “That’s wonderful.” She ran her hand over her perfectly coifed dark hair. “I sure wish Angel would have been able to go with you. She wouldn’t be mixed up with the Benoits.” Her dark brown eyes lined in too much makeup shifted to me. “I heard there was trouble down at Chickarees. That family is bad news through and through.”

  I blinked at the widow, taking a few moments to decide if I’d really heard her correctly. The older woman was never shy about speaking her mind in that roundabout, condescending way. I just couldn’t believe she was badmouthing the people she secretly hired for help. She was one of Bastien’s repeat customers.

  “I just don’t know why your mother would ever let you spend time with someone like that,” she continued, oblivious to the anger burning beneath my surface.

  “I’m eighteen,” I snapped. “And I can hang out with whoever I want.” Why did people feel the need to question my behavior? They never did that to Marisol.

  Riley stopped slurping her iced coffee, her green eyes widening. Not many people would stand up to widow Beauchamp. She was rich and powerful and had most likely killed her husband even though no one could prove it. Maybe being around Etie had given me more of a backbone. And this woman could in no way look down her nose at them when she was hanging around the swamp at night.

  It was one thing for people to be afraid of the Benoits because they didn’t know or understand them. It was another for her to shame them for being different.

  “The Benoits aren’t good enough for you to respect? Not even when they do your dirty work?”

  Blood instantly drained from her cheeks. I hadn’t said a word to anyone about her visiting Bastien for voodoo spells, but I was tired of her trash-talking them. She wasn’t better than Bastien or Etie, no matter how much money she had.

  “Excuse me, young lady?” She laid her hand on her chest as if offended. “I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

  “Right.” Heat swirled up from the depths of my core, and a crackle of electricity slithered down my spine.

  Oh crap. Not again.

  “I need some air,” I said, pivoting in the opposite direction.

  “I’ll come with you.” Riley began to follow, but I shook my head.

  “I’ll be back.” I glanced over my shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile.

  Ms. Beauchamp was still sputtering when I stalked away, saying something about Etie being a bad influence on me.

  I stormed into the bathroom and away from prying eyes. Thankfully the powder-pink stalls were empty, and I could freak out for a moment alone.

  Just take deep breaths.

  My palms pressed into the cold white counter, and I squeezed my lids shut, trying to choke my powers down. I didn’t understand what was happening, so it was pretty much a blind attempt. I swallowed hard, wishing Etie was here. He wasn’t a witch, but he knew how to deal with a massive swell of magic. And I missed that crazy Cajun.

  My head lifted to the mirror, meeting my reflection.

  What the hell?

  I leaned forward, surveying the purple hue beginning to eclipse my usually golden-brown eyes.

  That wasn’t possible. I was seeing things.

  I twisted the sink nozzles and splashed cold water over my face. When I peered back into the mirror, a scream lodged in my throat. The shadowy figure of a man in a top hat appeared behind me.

  I whipped around, expecting to see Baron Samedi. No one was there.

  My pulse quaked wildly, matching my ragged pants. Deep, skin-crawling laughter echoed hollowly against the tile walls.

  Oh god. Baron Samedi was coming.

  I bolted out of the door, heading for the exit. Etie said the voodoo king was wasting his time, but I didn’t want to stick around and ask if Baron Samedi was aware of that. I darted around the corner, nearly running into a blonde.

  “Watch where—” Her words cut off as she spotted me. “Oh, you.” Trisha Belmont had the evil sneer down pat.

  I’d spoken too soon. Ms. Beauchamp wasn’t the last person I wanted to see. It was Trisha. I tried to move past her, but she blocked my path.

  “Etie sure did enjoy his dinner last night.” Her blue eyes sparkled.

  I halted. “What are you talking about?”

  “He was at my daddy’s shop last night, and I thought I’d bring him something to eat.” She licked her lips. “He sure does have an appetite.”

  My stomach clenched, and an acrid taste oozed up my throat. Etie and Bastien had taken that job for her father. This blonde skank was already trying to steal him after the first day.

  “He’s always loved my fried chicken.” A dark smile curled her red-painted lips. “I used to make it for him after a late night…” Her voice trailed off, and the innuendo was clear.

  My nostrils flared, and the electric crackling returned to my hands. I shoved them behind my back. “Get out of my way.”

  A line formed between Trisha’s overly plucked brows. “What’s wrong with your eyes? They look purple.”

  Oh my god. It wasn’t just my imagination.

  I darted by her, hitting her shoulder so hard she stumbled into a display of pots. A loud clatter echoed, drawing several pairs of eyes. Trisha would probably tell them I pushed her on purpose because I was jealous.

  I had bigger things to worry about than Trisha Belmont’s lying mouth. My freaky powers were becoming more than I could handle. I needed help.

  Chapter 8

  I stormed into my mother’s veterinarian office, ignoring the startled customers in the waiting room. Lena DuPont, one of the vet techs behind the counter, tried to wave me down, but I bypassed her and headed into the short hall of examination rooms. I didn’t care what dog, cat, or rodent she was tending to. I needed my mother.

  Sweat ran down my spine, soaking the back of my shirt. My powers scratched at the surface, attempting to tear their way out. It felt as if my skin was crawling. A little pink sign hung from the door of exam room three, letting me know the doctor was inside.

  I pushed the door open without knocking. “Mom.”

  Her head snapped around, her hazel eyes widening. “Um, Angel, sweetie, I’m in the middle of an appointment.” The Yorkie on the table looked relieved someone interrupted the inspection of his teeth.

  “I need to talk to you,” I choked out, wiping a dribble of sweat off my forehead.

  “In a minute.” She shot me an incredulous expression before turning back to the pudgy woman who had been explaining her dog’s problem.

  Was this se
riously happening? I finally sought my mother out after more than a week of silence, and she was turning me away. I would have laughed if not for the crackles of invisible electricity running over my body.

  “Mom! I need to talk to you now.” The lights flickered in the room, and my mother finally understood my urgency.

  “I’ll be right back, Mrs. Adkins.” She ushered me out, dog hair flying off her penguin scrubs. When we reached her office at the end of the hall, she quickly closed the door behind us, locking it. “What happened?”

  “What happened?” I screeched. “I don’t know a thing about controlling these powers.” I leaned against the door and lifted my hands to my face. “My eyes are turning purple.”

  “Oh boy.” She rubbed her temples and sat on the edge of her cluttered desk. My mom was always so busy treating the animals she rarely had time for anything else. Organization wasn’t her strongest suit in the first place. “Things are progressing faster than we expected, but your grandmother and I are going to help you.”

  “You are?” A heavy weight fell off my chest. It felt as if I could breathe easier for the first time in days.

  Her brows dipped. “Of course, Angel. We wouldn’t just let you continue like this.” She tucked locks of straying auburn hair back into her messy ponytail, her gaze still holding mine. “Your grandmother is working on a way to restore the binds around your magic.”

  Her words were like icicles stabbing through the warm relief I’d begun to feel. “Restore the binds?” The thought of it was already suffocating.

  “Of course. It’s the only safe thing to do.”

  My heart was breaking. For just a moment, I’d thought my mom and Abuela had finally realized the mistake they made keeping me in the dark. Instead, they simply wanted to put a bandaid over a giant wound.

  Didn’t they understand a bind wouldn’t hold my powers anymore? They’d been slowly leaking out since I met Etie. Now that our souls were linked, there was no way in hell any magical bind was strong enough to hold them.

  “That’s not the kind of help I need.” I held my hands out as tiny sparks traveled over my palms. “Why can’t Abuela just tell me how to control this?”

  “You’re a conduit, Angel. Your powers aren’t like other witches’. They’re harder to control, and people will use you.” She rubbed her temples as lines deepened in her forehead. “Restoring your binds is the only safe option. It’s the only way you can have a normal life.”

  Heat bubbled up from my core, spilling acid through my veins. My nostrils flared, and it took everything I had not to tear the plastic tray off the wall next to me. “You call being hidden away in this town normal?” I spat.

  Scarlet flooded her cheeks, and her jaw clenched. “Your father did not sacrifice his life for you to throw it all away.”

  Her words were like a sledgehammer against my chest. I flinched as if she’d physically struck me. “What are you talking about? Dad died in a car accident.”

  She quickly stood and turned her back on me, rummaging around on her desk. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  A sick feeling spilled through my stomach. Oh god. “Did his death have something to do with me?” My tongue felt too thick forming those words. I licked my cold lips, all the heat from my anger and powers melting away. I may as well have been standing in frozen tundra.

  “Of course not, Angel.” Her voice was strained and distant. Something wasn’t right. “I only meant leaving his coven and witchcraft to keep you safe.” My mother slowly faced me again, an unreadable mask firmly in place. “We’ve all made sacrifices to protect you.”

  It would have hurt less had she punched me in the gut. I hadn’t known I was a witch for very long, but apparently my mother was harboring some deep-seated hate of my magic. Because of me, my family had to change their entire lives. My father, grandmother, and sister had to renounce their ties to witchcraft to protect me.

  A lump rose in my throat. “I never asked for that. I never asked for any of this.” I spun around and yanked the door open, stalking out.

  “Angel! Come back here.”

  I ignored my mother and marched toward the waiting area, the red exit sign like a beacon pulling me toward safety. I had to get away from her, away from the pain threatening to drown me. My chest was caving in with the weight of her words.

  Did I have something to do with my father’s death? Had someone found out what I was and killed him to get to me?

  I’d probably never know the truth. I was lied to my entire life, and every time I turned around, more secrets were unearthed. The very people who were supposed to protect me were the ones hurting me the most.

  The customers in the waiting area watched as I fled from the veterinarian’s office, whispers following in my wake. This little drama would be floating around Carrefour within the next hour. The moment I stepped onto the street, a jolt of electricity sparked in my chest. Popping echoed, and I spun around, horrified. Cracks spiderwebbed across the glass door.

  Air caught sharply in my lungs. Oh my god. It was going to shatter.

  I took off down the street, the sun already melting behind the buildings. A few people walked along the sidewalk, shooting me curious glances. I ignored them. The heat had returned, and my veins were on fire, as if lava flowed through them instead of blood. I glanced in a store window, my eyes a vivid shade of purple.

  Shit! Whatever was happening, I couldn’t stop it. The power inside me was too much, too soon. Maybe if I’d been able to grow normally with them instead of having them dumped on me at eighteen, I wouldn’t be flipping my lid right now.

  A car alarm suddenly blared through the air, and I jumped. I hurried by only to have the next car parked along the edge of the road come to life, the alarm screaming and lights flashing. A loud buzzing echoed, and the bulb in the nearest lamp post exploded.

  I screeched, dodging shards of glass. Another one in my path erupted.

  This was a freaking nightmare. My chest was caving in, stealing my breath. The chaotic noise filled my ears, mixing with distant murmurs of a few pedestrians. A metallic tinge coated my tongue as more electricity spread over my skin.

  I needed to get the hell out of here before I hurt someone.

  I pivoted and took off down an alley, running as fast as I could. My flip flops slapped the pavement hard, the sound like cracks of thunder. Sweat leaked down my face, and tears blurred my vision.

  My life had been turned upside down, and there was no going back. I had to figure out a way to deal with this or let it consume me whole.

  A sense of relief hit me when I finally reached the deserted Carrefour Cemetery. The grass was as plush and soft as carpet beneath my feet. Mr. Jenkins, the caretaker, took his job seriously. Not one tombstone was left smeared with dirt or grime.

  I hunched over, my hands on my knees as I tried to catch my breath. No sooner did I suck in a lungful of air did another jolt of energy pour from my body.

  Oh no. The wind kicked up, and the trees began to sway, the creaking of limbs and the frantic rustling of leaves filling the air.

  I stood, my head tilting toward the sky. Thick clouds rolled in, plunging the cemetery into darkness.

  My lips turned cold. Did my powers have no freaking limits? What else could I do? Bring a hailstorm down on Carrefour?

  A rip of lightning tore through the murky sky, spilling more energy through the atmosphere. My hair whipped across my face, obscuring my vision. I yanked the strands away just as a violent series of pops echoed. A wall of twigs and small tree limbs hurled toward me.

  The wind swallowed my gasp. I threw my arms up to cover my face. Sharp stings resonated over my skin as the projectiles tore into me. I peeked through a crack, looking for somewhere to take cover.

  What the hell should I do?

  I darted through headstones, hoping to find a spot that would shield me from pieces of broken foliage caught in the maelstrom. Mr. Perkins was going to have his hands full tomorrow.

  A crack sounded, and
I glanced over my shoulder. My eyes widened at the large branch tumbling my way.

  Shit!

  I dodged it at the last second, ducking behind a headstone. I crawled on my hands and knees, tears barely making it down my cheeks before they were swept away.

  Why was this happening? Why couldn’t I make it stop?

  A whistle cut through the violent gale. When I looked up, another branch was headed straight for me. I didn’t have time to react before it was inches from my face.

  Hot energy spiked through my bloodstream, and something shot out of me. I covered my face with my hands, waiting on the impact. But it never came.

  The wind no longer lashed at me and the howling was muted. I peeked through slitted lids. The branch had rebounded away, smashing into a headstone and cracking it down the center.

  That wasn’t all I saw.

  An invisible barrier was now between me and the raging storm.

  Great. My powers were protecting me while anyone else who made the mistake of visiting Carrefour Cemetery would be pelted to death.

  I needed Etie. He might be the only person who could help me. I reached into my pocket, drawing out my phone—my very fried phone. It fell from my hand with a thud, bouncing on the soft grass.

  Sobs filled my calm little bubble. I had no way of getting out of this thing or getting help. Hell, I’d even be glad to contact Henri right now. At least he’d have some idea of how to stop the storm of magic.

  Familiar voices cut through my crying, and I wiped the tears from my eyes. Abuela and my mother were standing just outside my bubble, yelling for me to come to them.

  They were out of their freaking minds!

  I frantically waved my hands for them to leave. “Get out of here! You’re going to get hurt.”

  My grandmother, being stubborn, strode forward, her dark hair whipping in her face. A violet sheen lit her eyes as she raised her hand, speaking words I couldn’t decipher.

  My breath caught. I’d never seen her use magic. A force hit the barrier, but all it did was bounce back and knock her off her feet.

  “No!” I cried.