Cursed (20 page)

“Lost his way,” Adrienne murmured. “Because of the gang?”

“Because he hurts people.” Candace’s words were hushed.

Adrienne looked from her to Rene. The gang member’s eyes were on the Red Man in her picture, his face unreadable.

“He didn’t hurt my sister, did he?” she asked, uncertain she wanted to know.

“No,” Candace assured her. “He is … was … innocent when he became entangled in your curse. Rene, you are destined to be a warrior for our gods. We failed with your brother.”

“Jax will be fine,” Rene said gruffly. “I don’t fight for no one but Jax.”

“Adrienne will need your help.”

He glanced at her.

“I don’t need help.” Adrienne gazed back, uncertain what to think. “How do I break the curse?”

Candace gathered up the tea items and replaced them on the tray, thoughtful.

“I told you - you need to learn to fight,” Rene told Adrienne.

“It’s not going to help me with the curse!”

“It wouldn’t hurt to learn self-defense, especially in this neighborhood,” Candace said wisely. “Most curses have some sort of limit on them to prevent innocent people from being hurt and also to prevent the originator from harm. An expiration date, single person or goal, or a way to lift it. While drinking tea, you said there was a limerick your grandmother sang to you when you were little. Do you remember it?”

Adrienne thought hard. Her grandmother sang to them in French. Even so, the elderly woman had died before Adrienne was six.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I can ask my mama.”

“Ask her if she knows what generation the curse is in. That might help us,” Candace said. “I don’t know if I can lift it or shed light on what happened to your sister, but I can try.”

“Really?” Adrienne asked, astonished someone was willing to help when no one in her hometown had been willing to even discuss it. “Why would you help me? I can’t pay you.”

“Multiple reasons,” Candace said, glancing at Rene again. “Moral obligation, mostly. I am a
mambos
whose specialty is healing.”

“Thank you so much!”

“It’s late, Rene. You should take her home.”

Rene rose before Candace finished speaking, his features tight. Adrienne sensed he was upset, then decided that was usually the case and rose, gaze on Candace.

“So I should come back after I talk to my mama?” she asked.

“That would be fine.”

For the first time since arriving to New Orleans, Adrienne had someone to help her uncover more information about her sister. And about the family curse.

She looked at the picture she’d drawn. How had she known how to write the strange code from her sister’s journal?

Who was the Red Man?

“C’mon,” Rene said brusquely, sweeping out of the private room.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Adrienne said. “I hope to see you again soon.”

“Take care of yourself, Addy,” Candace replied.

Adrienne nodded. She didn’t notice her throbbing ear until she left the shop and reached up to touch it. She grimaced.

“You need to learn to fight,” Rene said. “Or you can stop popping up in my damn territory.”

“Not until I get my journal back!” she snapped.

“Whatever.” He began walking.

Adrienne eyed the sky, hoping she’d beat her daddy home from work. She had to try to get the blood out of her clothes before he discovered what happened. She needed an excuse, too, and right now, saying she got beat up by a gang sounded better than the truth.

“Who was that guy last night?” Rene asked. The odd note in his voice drew her gaze.

“Guy?” she repeated.

“The one who said your daddy was looking for you.”

“Jayden.” She smiled. “He’s a friend from school.”

“Right, and I’m your brother.”

Adrienne giggled at the thought of her daddy raising Rene. “He is just a friend,” she said. “I think.”

“You don’t know?”

She was quiet, debating.

“You want there to be more,” Rene guessed. “Prissy, pansy rich boys. Everyone’s got a type.”

“He’s not prissy or a pansy,” she replied quickly. “He’s a quarterback and a gentleman.”

Rene rolled his eyes.

“You’re a voodoo gang member who lives at home with his mother,” she retorted. “Tell me that’s better!”

“I do not live with my mama. She lives with me!” Rene responded. “You tell him you going to
bokors
and hanging out with voodoo gang members at night?”

Adrienne flushed.

“I can’t hear you.”

She said nothing.

“Oh, so he don’t know what you’re like outside of school. Nice way to start a relationship.”

“This is my first week at school. Fine. I like him. A lot, but he’s … not like us,” she said.

“So, what? I’m your girlfriend, and he’s your boyfriend? I get to know your secrets and he gets what? A fake you?”

“It’s none of your business, Rene. Your aunt know you on drugs?”

He eyed her. “It’s not drugs.”

“What is it?”

He was still for a moment then reached into the pocket where he’d put whatever he got from the stranger in front of her apartment building. He held out a piece of paper.

Adrienne took it and unfolded it, recognizing the veve of the warrior god, Ogoun. Nothing else was written.

“When a
bokor
or other member of our House requires a … favor, they send a message like this,” Rene explained. “This is from my uncle. He has an assignment for our crew. He sends a note, I go meet him for details.”

“Oh,” she said. “Assignment?”

“You don’t need to know. Gang stuff.”

“You mean bad stuff. Hurting people, vandalizing buildings, thieving?” she asked.

“Yeah. If we can’t do it through normal methods, we resort to black magic.”

“That’s awful, Rene. I think drugs are better.”

“You got no clue.”

There were times she was attracted to him and times she wanted to kill him. Adrienne didn’t know what to feel about Rene, who loudly proclaimed he didn’t want to help her then walked her home when he could clearly just leave her in some alley.

Irritated with one another, they didn’t talk the rest of the way. Adrienne walked into her building without saying farewell, upset to realize he was at least a little bit right. She’d planned on not telling Jayden anything about her voodoo past or her curse or even ever letting him meet her backwards mother and family.

She reached her daddy’s apartment and was relieved to see it wasn’t quite seven yet. He’d be home soon, but she had time to try to get blood out of her uniform.

She checked her email first and saw a note from Jayden waiting for her.

A-

Just making sure you’re okay.

J.

She felt guilty. She’d spent the evening out with Rene, even if it had been in pursuit of information about her sister. She couldn’t tell Jayden that, though. She hesitated then typed a response.

J-

I am, thank you! The line at the clinic is always long. Tomorrow’s the big day – you get to hear me sing!

A.

She sent the response then emailed her mother, asking about the lullaby her grandmother used to sing.

Afterwards, Adrienne evened out her hair and did her damnedest to scrub out the blood from her school uniform before her daddy got home. She set out her cheer squad uniform, grateful she had the weekend to find white shirts, since both of hers were stained. She wasn’t sure how she’d manage to get her homework done and try to figure out how to catch up in math, when her head was barely above water.

Jayden promised to help.

She told herself this over and over. Emma said he was the smartest kid at school. If anyone could help her, he could. Maybe this weekend, she’d find time to spend with him working on keeping her in school.

Right at eight, her father got home from work.

Adrienne shoved the clothing she’d spent half an hour scrubbing into the tiny dryer and closed it.

“You ready for dinner, Daddy?” she called.

“Yeah, pun’kin.”

Adrienne went to the kitchen. Her ear was hurting. She kept her new hairdo down, hoping her daddy noticed that instead of her missing earlobe.

She opened the cabinet. A sticky note fluttered to the ground. Adrienne picked it up.

Get my journal back.

She stared. The journal was Therese’s. Did that mean whoever left the note was Therese?

How was that possible?

“You change your hair?” her daddy asked.

Adrienne crumpled the note in her hand and shoved it in her pocket as she reached for a box of Hamburger Helper.

“Yeah. Trying to be um, more stylish,” she lied.

“Looks nice.”

“Thanks.” Distracted, she made dinner, ate quickly and returned to her room, anxious for some alone time to try to figure out what was going on.

Instead of studying, she searched for more sticky notes. There were none, just like there was no explanation as to why a voodoo priestess she’d never met before had chopped off her hair and ear.

Uneasily, she could guess what the woman might do, if she was one of those who toyed with black magic.

Adrienne’s eyes watered. She definitely didn’t need another curse to complicate her life. Hopefully, Jayden’s grandmama was devoted to the gods who favored healing over violence.

Lying down, she found it hard to sleep for more reasons than because her ear hurt. Tomorrow, she’d be singing in front of Jayden and the school. If there was one thing she knew, it was that she’d blow them away. How she’d find a way to catch up to class was a different matter entirely.

She stretched for her tarot deck and drew a card.

“Will tomorrow be awesome?” she asked then flipped a card. “Six of Pentacles, reversed.”
Tough one.
“So I need to be open to someone trying to help me? What does this have to do with school?”

Sometimes, the cards were more confusing than helpful. She replaced it and turned off the lamp on her nightstand.

A few blocks away, Jax rocked and chanted, focusing hard on pulling the spirit he sought back into this world. His bedroom smelled of incense, blood and fear.

“I’m too … tired.”

The thin voice interrupted Jax’s chanting. He dropped beside the body on the bed.

“Come on, baby. You can do it.” He poured more of the dark liquid in the jar between the lips of the pretty, buxom blonde he’d found lost in one of the crew’s alleys. Streetlight lit up her pale face. Blue eyes were dazed, her features clammy.

“Jax …” Therese’s voice was distant, fading.

“No, baby, no,” he whispered urgently. He tossed his head back. “I command you, Baron Samedi! Bring her spirit to me!”

The blonde’s body bucked in response, and the woman cried out. Blood streamed from her nose and ears, joining the rivulets he’d caused earlier when he cut her for the rite. She shuddered and fell still suddenly, her eyes closing.

Jax felt as if he’d been punched harder than ever before. He struggled to catch his breath and steady his shaking hands. Each time he performed the rite, he lost a little more of himself. If he didn’t work out for two hours a day to stay strong, he’d have been dead years before from the toll the rite took on him.

“Therese?” he called, straightening. “Are you there?”

“I … can’t do this any … more,” her faint voice told him. It came from the body of the stranger on the bed. “Can’t … keep running from … him. Need permanent host.”

“You can do it. Come on, baby, just … focus on tonight. Focus hard. We worked too hard for you to give up now.”

The blonde’s body went limp.

Jax uttered the foulest curse he knew and threw the clay jar against a wall. It shattered, and what remained of the blood-based spell slid down the wall.

He sank against the bed, reliving the emotions from the night Therese died, the way he did every time he performed the rite.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, as much to Therese as the woman he’d accidentally killed this night.

Every once in a while, the rite failed to bring Therese’s spirit back from the purgatorial place between life and death where she dwelled. He’d gotten good at the monthly ritual. His first year attempting to bring her back had ended in nothing but failure, but he’d figured it out soon after. it wasn’t the first night recently where he’d been unable to pull her spirit into the token body of a woman he’d chosen for her. The rumors about the serial killer were back on the streets. While their friends in the police force were suppressing them, Jax knew he could only fail so many times before people started asking too many questions.

Jax’s head spun. He sagged against the side of the bed, waiting for the dizziness to pass. It wasn’t normal for him to feel weak during a rite. Then again, he had never performed this particularly powerful rite two nights in a row.

He shook his head and wiped his face. There were tears on his cheeks. Every month, he brought her back, only to lose her when the rite was over. Every month, he mourned her again, and every month, it hurt more.

Resting his head against the mattress, his thoughts drifted once more to Adrienne. He was usually careful with the women whose bodies he claimed for the sacred ritual. They were, after all, the embodiment of his love for twelve to twenty four hours. They deserved his respect and care. He didn’t want to hurt the women permanently, only to borrow their bodies so he could pull Therese back from wherever her spirit was. If they were to avoid the Red Man, she couldn’t stay permanently, no matter how much he yearned for her.

Seeing Adrienne again today, however, made him want to ask Togoun for the magic he needed to give Therese a new body. Forever. But how was it possible, when the Red Man always came for her?

Jax pushed himself up with effort. He was exhausted.

His eyes traveled over the woman. He checked her pulse, not surprised to feel there was none. When he failed to bring Therese back according to the stages of the rite, he ended up losing both spirits.

Was it better in the long run for everyone if he did find a permanent host for Therese’s body? Someone who looked like her? Someone with silky blonde hair and clear, green eyes, whose soft voice reminded him of the few months he’d spent with her?

Who better than her sister?

“No,” Jax said firmly. Adrienne deserved his protection, not to be turned into someone else or worse, to have the Red Man hunt her down, too. Therese would want her sister safe.

Distressed by the weakness and pain he’d heard in Therese’s voice, Jax snatched his knife again and gazed at the dead woman. He had half a notion to go back to Togoun for a new spell, to find a new woman and summon Therese again. Just to be sure she was okay and the Red Man hadn’t gotten her. He might be able to use this body again, if he hurried. Black magic zombie spells were complex, but the body didn’t have to be fresh to be brought back, just recently dead.

A knock at his bedroom door jarred him.

Who was in his house? Had the Red Man sensed Therese enter this world and come to claim her, the way he had a few other times?

Jax readied his knife and yanked his door open.

“Jax, we been looking for you,” his brother said.

Rene’s jaw dropped at the sight of the girl on the bed. Jax glanced around his room, aware of how unnatural everything would appear to someone else. Veves in blood covered the walls and floor, and he’d built a shrine in each corner to a different god or goddess. The room smelled of herbs from the rite and death. The blonde was bound spread eagle on his bed in her underwear.

“What happened?” Rene managed, his voice hushed. “Is she alive?”

“No.”

Rene stared at him, his shock rendering him frozen.

If he was any other member of OL, Jax would kill him where he stood. But he couldn’t, not his brother. He’d already lost the love of his life. He’d never hurt Rene, aside from their occasional scuffle over the crew’s business that ended in a fistfight.

“It’s not what you think,” Jax said. He was almost too exhausted to care that the person he trusted most in the world had found out one of his secrets.

Rene was gazing at him, waiting for an explanation. Jax knew he could lie, and Rene would choose to believe him, even if they both knew it wasn’t the truth.

When had his brother turned into a man? Jax didn’t recall seeing Rene grow. His little brother had been under his guardianship since he was ten, when their father ran off and their mother’s illness constrained her to a wheelchair. Rene dropped out of school when he was thirteen, and Jax had taught him to survive on the streets.

Jax still saw the little boy Rene had been, every time he looked at his brother. But Rene wasn’t a boy. He was a man who had done his fair share of killing and stealing to keep their community and House safe.

“Will you say the
dessonet
prayers with me?” Jax asked, referring to the final set of prayers meant to help the spirit leave the body for good. “Whatever you think of me right now, she deserves that much.”

Rene said nothing, but Jax knew his brother wouldn’t turn him down. It was a miracle he’d managed to hide what he did for five years from Rene.

He pulled a squeeze bottle of herbs and powders mixed together then drew the veve of Baron Samedi and his family’s guardian, Ogoun, on the woman’s body. When he finished, he knelt beside the bed and bowed his head.

After a moment, Rene joined him.

They murmured the final prayers quietly, asking their ancestors and hers to help the woman’s spirit transition out of her body as gently as possible.

The woman sighed suddenly in death, a sign her spirit was leaving her.

Jax rose. Freeing her spirit was the least he could do for the woman he didn’t mean to murder.

“Will you call Deputy Brannon?” he asked Rene, who hadn’t said anything yet.

“Yeah. Tell him the usual?
Drug overdose?”

“Yes.”

Jax un-cuffed her hands then sliced her ankles free with his knife. He reached under the bed for the supply of thick plastic sheeting he kept there for circumstances like this. While rare now, they still happened.

Rene made the phone call quickly to their main contact at the local police station. When he hung up, a tense silence fell between them.

Jax considered how much to tell Rene, now that his brother stumbled upon the girl. Was there more than one reason he hadn’t told the person he trusted most with what he did?

Because it’s wrong.

“She wasn’t supposed to die,” he said into the tense silence.

“You cut her open, Jax. How was she not supposed to die?”

“I didn’t cut her open. I had to … to kill her, in order to bring her back.”

“Zombie?
You
performed the zombie ritual?”

“Every month for five years.” Jax glanced at his brother. He’d never seen Rene so surprised. “They usually live through it fine, and I turn them loose.”

“But why?”

Jax was quiet for a minute, stretching out the plastic onto the floor beside the bed. His brother was no stranger to death or violence or black magic, yet he hesitated, wanting to protect Rene just a little longer from how bad of a person he was. Rene knew about Jax resorting to black magic when normal violence failed and about the OL traitors or weak members he routinely purged to keep their crew strong and dedicated. Hurting someone innocent, however, was different. Even Jax didn’t take the death well of a woman who had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“I bring Therese back every month through the rite. We spend the day together, and I lose her again. But at least I know I can bring her back next month,” he explained, needing to hear the reasoning out loud. “A few times, the Red Man notices she’s not in the spirit world and shows up to kill her. Then there days where I just … I guess I’m not strong enough.”

“Jax, the penalty for black magic is –”

“Three times the harm I cause. I know. Lift her feet.”

Rene hesitated then obeyed. He picked up the woman’s feet while Jax lifted her upper body. They set her on the plastic sheeting.

“I will go to the deepest pit in hell,” Jax added. “But I might save her.”

“Save her? You crazy, Jax. How many people you kill to save one girl?”

Jax snatched Rene and shoved him into the wall, fury flying through him at the stupid question. He pressed the tip of the bloody knife to Rene’s neck. Eyes the same shade of blue-green as his glared back at him.

“Therese is my world,” Jax snarled. “I will do anything,
anything,
to protect her. Don’t you ever talk about her like that again!”

“You got serious issues, Jax,” Rene said, unafraid. “You gonna kill me the way you killed that girl?”

“Rarely do they die.” Jax released him, dizziness swirling through him once more. “Normally, it doesn’t happen this way. No one gets hurt.”

“How many have you killed?”

“Twenty-three in the past five years.”

“I’ll help you dump the body, but I don’t want anything to do with this,” Rene snapped. “Blood magic, Jax. You into
blood
magic.”

Jax said nothing, but slowly began wrapping the body in plastic.

“How you gonna save a dead girl anyway?” Rene demanded, helping him roll her up.

“It’s none of your business, Rene.”

“You’re my brother, and you’re doing something stupid. It
is
my business.”

“You’re all grown up, aren’t you.” Jax smiled to himself, recognizing the words he’d once told his younger brother to keep him out of trouble. “It’s too much to explain. Help me tonight, and we’ll talk later.”

Rene grumbled. He didn’t speak up again, but assisted Jax in wrapping then taping up the body. Jax took a brief break, hands shaking from effort.

Rene was watching him, arms crossed. His brother showed no sign of weakness like that Jax felt.

“Adrienne is figuring out the journal. Why won’t you give it to her?” Rene asked. “Maybe she can fix … this.” His troubled gaze went to the wrapped body.

“It’s mine,” Jax said. “I’m not giving it up. It’s all I have left.”

“It’s all Adrienne has, too.”

“You care more about Adrienne than your own brother?”

“No. But Candace thinks the journal has some meanin’, something that might break the curse, and she says there’s someone … a chosen. She don’t know what they’re suppose to do yet.”

“It’s too late for Therese!”

“It’s not too late for Adrienne. The curse is after her, Jax.”

Jax was silent. No part of him wanted to give up the journal, the last physical piece of Therese he had. He’d been stunned when Adrienne claimed to have it in the alley. Therese was his, and so was her journal.

“What if she can break it?” Rene pressed. “What if she can help you and Therese?”

“How?”

“I don’t know, man. But she can’t do nothing if you don’t let her try.”

Jax rose and paced. The idea of letting anyone else even touch Therese’s journal made him want to tear something apart.