A Soul's Sacrifice (Voodoo Revival Series Book 1) Read online

  Hold on, Angie. Ready or not, here I come.

  Chapter SIX

  Mind Over Body

  I walked into the kitchen to find Rhys and Mama with their heads bent together, whispering heatedly. Only when I loudly cleared my throat did they even notice that I was standing there. What the hell was with all the whispering? Didn’t they know that secrets don’t make friends?

  “What was in that tea last night?” I said, pushing some authority into my question so the two of them knew I wasn’t screwing around.

  “Chamomile and mint,” the old lady answered innocently. The deep wrinkles around her eyes crinkled even more. I think she was smirking at me, though I couldn’t quite be sure. Her face had an almost unreadable quality to it that could make for one hell of a poker face. Rhys was standing next to her with a confused look upon his face. If the woman had slipped something into my drink, I was sure by the hardened expression on his face that he’d had no knowledge of it.

  I narrowed my eyes. “And what else? I know I smelled and tasted something else in it. Then I started having completely insane dreams. What was in it?”

  The mention of crazy dreams had Rhys’s jaw dropped and his head swiveled back and forth between me and Mama Yansa. The woman just smiled knowingly. Oh yeah, she drugged me all right.

  “Ayahuasca. Now tell me what kinda dream did ya have? Don’t leave no details out,” Mama answered.

  “What the hell is that? You drugged me and you’re admitting it? You guys are sick and twisted. Rhys, I want you to take me home now. I’m not playing any more of your games. I’m done.” I was shouting by the time I finished, the rage I’d felt when I’d woken up was coming back in full force. I felt like I was a storm on a war path, Hurricane Maya.

  “Maya, I can’t do that right now. You need to be here and you need to listen to us. Angie’s life might very well depend on it. You can be mad and hate me all you want, but you need to do this now. If you want me to take you home afterwards, I will,” Rhys said.

  That man! Damn! He knew exactly where to hit me where it hurts. Angie. He knew that I would do anything to save Angie and that rat bastard was going to use it against me! Just the mention of my friend downgraded me from Hurricane Maya to Tropical Storm Maya. Moonbeam took that moment to brush herself against my leg before finding a comfortable place at Rhys’s feet. Traitorous cat!

  “I take it then that ayahuasca makes people hallucinate?” Seeing the glint in her eyes confirmed my suspicions. She nodded in agreement. I huffed and rolled my eyes. I was acting like a spoiled teenager and I knew it, however I was so aggravated that it couldn’t be helped.

  “Now, child, what was ya dream? Mama needs all da details, even da little ones,” Mama said.

  “It was just a weird dream where I was someone else, a long time ago. I was doing some rich woman’s hair,” I answered, omitting that I had been the Voodoo Queen in said dream. It seemed like an important piece of information and I wanted to keep it to myself for just a bit longer.

  Mama’s eyes narrowed and I think she was on to my deception.

  “Who?” she responded.

  “Why does it matter who it was? It was just a dream. They don’t mean anything.”

  Even as I said it, I began to get the feeling that her reaction was too odd for my statement to be entirely true. The stubborn, logically inclined person inside me rebelled against the thought that it could mean anything more than just an overactive subconscious. After all, dreams were just dreams, weren’t they?

  It took me by surprise when it was Rhys that spoke up sagely, “Dreams are never just dreams. Not for people like us.”

  “What does that even mean? Why do you both keep talking in circles? People like us? People like who? What could some stupid dream even mean?” My blood pressure was rising by the second. Breathe Maya. Just breathe. Don’t panic. The mantra repeated in my head several times.

  “Open ya eyes, child. Look at what has been goin’ on around ya. There be more then meets da eye here. Now, tell me, who was ya dream about?” Mama asked.

  “I was a hairdresser in a parlor for a woman named Lisette,” I answered. Mama was staring at me expectantly. “I think I was Marie Laveau,” I clarified, glancing away. It was almost shameful to admit to what was in my dream. Too personal.

  Mama started laughing hysterically and dancing around the kitchen like it was the greatest news she had ever received, yelling, “It’s true! It’s time.”

  Rhys only briefly peeked at the old woman before coming to stand behind me. He rested his hand on my shoulder for comfort. Mama finally came to a stop in front of me, her aged eyes twinkling with delight.

  “Ya da one that was foretold to be comin’. Ya dream aint no normal dream, girl. Ya seen da past.”

  “How could I possibly see the past? I’m no one special even if I did believe in all of this...this...craziness! How do you expect me to believe any of this?” A panic attack was imminent and I could sense the world closing in on me. Breathing was getting harder by the second and there was a loud pounding in the back of my head. I think it was my heartbeat. Luckily, Rhys knew something was wrong; he guided me out the door and sat me down in the wooden rocking chair on the porch. I needed space and maybe to lean on Rhys while he explained things to me. Mama must have guessed as much because she didn’t follow us outside. I sat there for a while focusing on my breathing, in and out slowly. Panic attacks were something I had experienced briefly after my parent’s death and I had been making progress, not having one in almost a year. Rhys stayed quiet, letting me calm down a bit. I could hear Mama moving around the kitchen, talking to that infernal snake. Mama must’ve been trying to do some cooking because a metallic crash reverberated throughout the house and the clearing, on which the small home stood.

  Rhys spoke up a few moments later, after the banging of pots and pans ended.

  “Maya, I need you to listen and keep an open mind, okay?” I nodded. I figured hearing him out was the least I could do after my outburst and temper tantrum. “Mama shouldn’t have put anything in your tea, but the fact that she did and you had the reaction you did says that she was right about you. Mama slipped the suggestion to you so you would think about your roots before she gave you that tea. You were thinking about where you came from and your ancestry, right?” I nodded again, not really capable of forming coherent words yet. “You were seeing where you came from in that dream. Marie Laveau,” he explained.

  “So are you trying to tell me that Marie Laveau is my ancestor or something? Because in case you haven’t noticed, I’m pretty white and she definitely was not!” None of it made sense.

  “If you dreamt about her specifically after the suggestion was placed then she is your direct ancestor. We would have to look into the entire line, though I would guess that you come from her firstborn and the subsequent descendants married into white families. It’s not that uncommon in these parts.” The truth in that statement echoed through me, however my mind still questioned its authenticity.

  “Firstborn, why that specifically?” I questioned.

  “Real power, well, the majority of it anyways, goes to the first born of every generation. If you’re here, then you are the product of being a firstborn for likely the last six to seven generations or however many since Ms. Laveau. Mama says you have the gift and I’m inclined to believe her, especially after that dream.”

  “Power? Like magic or something?”

  “Exactly like magic.”

  “Are you trying to tell me that I’m a powerful witch or something? Because I’ve never had anything happen that would even remotely make me think of magic let alone me causing it.”

  “Sort of. Witch would be one name you can call it, but it’s far more complicated than that. People talk about white magic or using the elements and just saying some words, but that is not us and I don’t think it really works either. I’m not sure though. I’ve never met someone that claimed to use that kind of magic. I’m talking about blood magic. Voodoo,�
� Rhys explained.

  I wouldn’t call myself a verbose person, although I generally had something to say about any given situation or circumstance whether it be a casual conversation, swearing like a pissed off sailor, or even something small like, yeah or okay. This was the first time in my life that I had ever been completely shocked into silence. I didn’t know what to make of it. My mind just blanked out, incapable of processing what was being said to me. It took a moment to form any kind of coherent thought processes. Was this guy fucking serious? Voodoo? That crap was just superstitious, African tribal nonsense. And witches? Yeah right! Now, I was royally pissed.

  “You have some nerve! You drag me out here in the middle of fucking nowhere just to feed me a line of bullshit! Especially when my best friend in the entire world has been kidnapped and is being held by a fucking psychopathic murderer who butchers his victims,” I screamed at him. The anger had simmered over that whole situation for the last couple days. It was almost a relief to let all my animosity and frustration out on this jackass. My hand was stinging by the time I realized that I had slapped him. There was a handprint on his face growing, redder by the minute. I had never hit anyone in my twenty-four years and was appalled with my own actions.

  “Oh my God! I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have done that.” I rushed him, checking over his face, making sure I hadn’t really hurt him. His face was unreadable as he stared me down. He had almost no reaction to me striking him, but his eyes were at war. They were pissed off and sympathetic all at once. He was a living, breathing, gorgeous contradiction. Distance, that was what I needed. I apologized once more before turning on my heels and making my way towards the small clearing behind the cabin.

  There wasn’t much land there that didn’t have trees and wet, grassy swamp, in fact, I was convinced that Mama had found the only solid parcel of land in a several mile radius. If she wanted seclusion she had definitely found it. It was the perfect place to practice voodoo and magic. The thought ran through my mind before I could consciously counter it.

  If I were honest with myself, the idea sent a thrill running through me, however I was pretty skilled in denial. I didn’t want to delve into how magic would change my life. And what about Rhys? Did he have an interest in me at all beyond the possibility that I might be powerful? I thought not. Still, I wanted to hold out hope, not that I would act on it. I prayed I could keep that burning flame hidden and save myself a huge embarrassment. Who was I kidding? He probably hated me now that I’d smacked him. I still couldn’t believe myself; it wasn’t something I wanted to repeat, ever. It made me feel like total shit. Thinking of the ferocity that had been in his eyes only made the unwelcome sensation intensify.

  I sat down on a patch of moss in the middle of the clearing, staying away from the tree roots and taller grass in apprehension of what may lurk there. I needed time to think things through. Slipping on my big girl pants, I tried to sort through all that Rhys had told me. Marie Laveau was my great-however-many-times grandmother. Stranger things could happen; New Orleans had a long history of mixed race Creoles marrying white members of the elite and the like. Thinking back to what I knew about her, I remembered she was the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans and had held the city in the palm of her hand for the majority of her life. She was rumored to have been very powerful and was in the center of almost all of the city’s latest gossip, which helped her with her craft and manipulations. Her tomb stood over in the St. Louis cemetery covered in triple X’s and offerings for her favors. Beyond that though, I had to admit that I didn’t know that much. Wrapping my mind around the idea of having magic though proved to be more difficult. Even if I believed that everything else was true, I had never done magic or had something magical happen to me, at least, not until the creature had shown up.

  The shadow creature. That was it! After the attack in my apartment, it was like a dam had broken in my mind and the memories of the shadow in the street with the glowing eyes came rushing back to me with clarity. Angie had acted like she couldn’t see anything there; I knew I had seen it. Maybe she wasn’t kidding and she really couldn’t see it? What if only I could see it? Or people like me, like Mama Yansa. Rhys had to be able to see them too! He had saved me from the one who had almost killed me in my apartment. Even thinking about the shadow creature made the forest around me suddenly seem a bit more sinister. That thing could be out there watching and waiting for me to make one wrong move before it attacked again. I couldn’t afford to let my guard down and let that damned thing get close again. Its icy fingers wrapped around my throat replayed through me. I could still feel it, like a lasting imprint.

  I was shocked to realize that I had somehow began to include myself in the same magically inclined category as Rhys and Mama Yansa. Was I going to accept all of that so easily? Could I throw away everything I had ever thought about how the world worked? Rhys didn’t seem like the type of guy that would put me through that if it wasn’t true.

  A tingle began to run up my spine and spread throughout the rest of my body. It felt completely electric and an image of myself as Frankenstein’s monster ran through my head. The electricity running through me brought something to life in me and it was happening so fast that the air had a difficult time escaping my lungs. Then I saw it. The shadow. It was lurking near a tree, unmoving, about a hundred yards away. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Trees and vegetation surrounding the infernal creature appeared to be losing their luster, dying simply from its presence. It was draining the swamp of its vitality and strengthening it’s own. A chill crept through the air. It disappeared. Frantically, I searched the area for it, but the swamp was dense and dark, and wandering off and knowing it was out there was not an option. Then I saw it. My line of sight locked with those insidious violet orbs off to the left of where I stood. It made no sound, still I could hear it whispering in my head.

  “Maya…Maya…come with me, join us…” It repeated it’s chanting until it consumed everything in my mind, leaving nothing.

  Somehow, in the endless crooning, I had crossed the large gap separating me from it and I stood on the precipice of the forest with only a few short feet between us. The echoes in my head became too great to take anymore and I let out a scream, clutching my head and I fell forwards towards the creature. It seized the opportunity at that moment to wrap its icy digits around my throat, closing off my airway. I didn’t want to let this thing see me as weak, yet it was so hard when I was fighting to breathe. So, I kept my eyes locked with the shadow’s like I was boring a hole through him. Kicking out and clawing with everything I had, I tried to land blows to something solid. I wouldn’t go out without a fight. Knife-like talons sliced at my arm and I could feel the hot blood running freely from the wound. Movement in my peripheral vision caught my attention. I couldn’t move my eyes away from the shadow. Daring a quick glance towards them, it was Rhys and Mama Yansa. Rhys started towards me when Mama’s hand on his shoulder kept him in his place. Why wasn’t she helping me? Why would she stand there and let that thing kill me? I saw her lips move and still, I couldn’t hear anything above the rushing in my ears and the echoes in my head. I was on my own. My fate was grim unless I came up with something fast. Living to see another day and finally figure Rhys’s mixed signals out were high on my priority list after getting out of this.

  Mama was watching the scene before her unfold with interest, like she was waiting for something. Probably waiting for me to die, crazy old woman. The darkness had begun to creep into my vision and the strong sense of déjà vu came. I had been there before and I was helpless to save myself. The shadow wasn’t solid enough to fight off so how do you fight something like that? A small voice, different than that of the creature’s, reverberated through my mind. I couldn’t make out what it was saying above the chanting. Black nothingness began to overtake me and I was about to lose consciousness as the end drew nearer. I knew I was gasping for air and flailing about like a dying fish and my eyes were fluttering closed. The limper I got, the lo
uder the tiny voice in my head got. Louder and louder until the feminine voice I didn’t recognize was screaming over everything else at me.

  Nearby a tree exploded, showering us with splinters and debris. That tiny voice had grown into a strong and sure voice that filled the small clearing, demanding the attention of everyone. It was my voice and different somehow, like it was being spoken by someone else. Had that tiny voice in my head been my own? I didn’t think so. She sounded different from the usual voice of my subconscious. In the single word spoken, there was more strength and power than I possessed in the entirety of my failing body.

  One word, a single word that held the power of an army behind it said, “Brûlerez.” You shall burn.

  The creature shrieked, a terrible scream before twisting in on itself. It contorted and became more solid, something I could actually grasp on to. The shadowy creature was burning! I could feel the heat pouring off of it as if I were standing in front of a great bonfire. He was turning to an oily ash before my very eyes. Tiny, black flakes dropped from the creature’s body littering the ground around us. I had to cover my ears because the shrill cries of the monster threatened to break my eardrums. The forest around us was silent, except for the cries of the tortured shadow. Soon, the shrieks ended, leaving the charred remains of what the creature had been. An oily, grey pile of char and ash. Its grip upon my throat had relaxed early on in the process and I could breathe again. My vision was clear, no, sharper than it had been before. A strength that I didn’t know I even possessed flowed through me. I had fought back and saved myself and there was a pride in that which was sweeter than even the ripest of nectar. Had I really done it? Was the shadow gone? I felt like a brand new person, a new me, stronger and more resilient.