Savannah Sacrifice (11 page)

“You've gotta be kidding me,” Jamie said. “You really think you can blame this on my housekeeping skills when you were acting dumber than a bag of boiled peanuts in my shop? You're just lucky that I can't throw you out.”

“I'd be happy to leave your establishment. It's the devil's playground.”

“Like you have any room to judge me. You are the one who is trying to mess with Bethany,” Jamie scoffed. “At least I know who to treat with some level of respect. I'm not like you, going around poking at wild cats.”

“I only give respect to those whom I deem worthy. I'm not a lapdog, nor am I subservient to anyone—witch or not.”

“You are lucky you're dead. If you weren't, I would give my left foot to help Bethany take you down.”

“Go to hell!” the parrot screeched.

“I never … ” Edward flushed with rage.

“Let's go, Edward, before I help Jamie turn you into a frog.” Starling could just imagine him hopping around on the broken glass on the floor. One thing was certain—as a frog, he would have been easier to handle.

“It would be my pleasure.” The glass crunched under him as he made his way to the door. “May we never meet again.” He slammed the door.

“I'm sorry about that, Starling,” Jamie said, running the back of her hand over her forehead. “I don't deal well with people whose fear and misunderstanding turns to hatred and bullying. I hope you can get rid of that devil before something really bad happens.”

“Me too, Jamie, me too.” Starling glanced out the door. Edward stood with his arms crossed over his chest and he talked to himself. “And tell your parrot thank you,” she said. “I've wanted to tell this spirit to go to hell since the moment I met him.”

Jamie walked to the corner and grabbed a broom. “You ain't the only one. But I'm guessin' if you meet up with that Bethany, he may get his chance.”

“About Bethany … do you know where I can find her?”

The broom swished over the hardwood, collecting the glass into a pile. “That's easy. She's a few blocks down on the left and she lives above her shop.”

“Thank you, Jamie. For everything.”

“You just stay safe, Starling. And I didn't think I would say this, but I hope you get your Jasper back soon.”

• • •

“You lied to me,” Edward growled. “You told me that shop would have what I need to take down Bethany. Your deceit will cost you.”

There was nothing more he could take from her. As it was, she had nothing—no hope, her life was in danger, and Jasper was possessed. The only thing Edward could do to make things worse was to hurt Jasper, and she would never let that happen—she couldn't.

“I didn't deceive you.” She glanced behind her toward the shop to make sure Jamie wasn't listening. “I got what we needed.”

“A verbal accosting is hardly what I needed.”

The cabby pointed to his vehicle and mouthed something—probably the amount she was running up on the meter. There went her last bit of cash. She raised her finger, letting him know they would be a minute.

“Just because we didn't buy anything doesn't mean I didn't get help.” Her footsteps echoed through the barren city street. The street lamps flickered to life, casting long skeletal shadows on the sidewalk. Instinctively, she stepped closer to Jasper, but moved a step away as she remembered who he had become. “I know where we can find Bethany.”

Even in the dim light, Edward's eyes brightened. “That's brilliant.”

“If I take you there, you promise to leave Jasper unhurt?”

“I will do my best to keep your friend intact.” He smiled, but just like his words, it lacked sincerity.

Her stomach churned. “Is there any way, any way at all that I can keep you from going after her? I will kill her myself if you would just promise to leave Jasper.”

“I have waited decades for the chance to see this foul wench face to face. There's nothing you could give me to sway me from my course, that is, unless you have her head on a platter.”

“I will give it to you if that is what you want.” Starling stopped. “I have a gift of talking to the dead. Maybe there's a way I can get them to help us. If she's as bad as you say, there have to be others she has wronged.”

“You make it sound simple, but you don't know spirits, do you?”

“I know they can be enormous pains in the ass, present company included.”

He waved her off. “Spirits aren't pets. They can't be called by an inexperienced medium. Only the truly powerful can summon a spirit, not to mention a large group of them.”

She leaned in. “I didn't come to Savannah for a vacation. I came down here to grow my skills. And, I know there are books somewhere here that will give me the power to control and do as I wish with spirits. All I have to do is find the books—then we will have your army.”

That was if the Catharterians didn't get to her first.

“Where are these books?” There was a strange glint of malice in his eye.

“They were supposed to be in your grave. That's why Jasper went down there. Did you see any books in your time in the mausoleum?”

Edward tapped his finger against his chin. “Maybe I did, hard to say. My many visitors always had an assortment of things.”

“What kind of visitors did you get?”

“As I'm sure you are aware, vultures are attracted to death.”

“You're saying the Catharterians were there?”

“They more than visited. It's their headquarters.”

“Their headquarters?” she asked, stunned by Edward's admission.

Edward answered with a sly smile.

Jasper would have killed for the information and now, when it mattered most, he couldn't act—at least not on his own accord—but she could take control. She could help Jasper's investigation while she worked to set his body free of the entrapment of Edward's soul.

“If it's their headquarters, then the books must be there,” Starling said, her excitement spilling into her voice, but under her thin layer of giddiness was a reservoir of apprehension.

“Don't get ahead of yourself. Let's first find Bethany.”

“I'll have to try to call the ghosts for help.”

“No, Starling. We don't need an army.”

“Okay. We don't need an army, but we need a real plan instead of this Wild West thing you have going on. You aren't going to go in without a weapon and take down the Savannah Voodoo Queen—no matter how badly you want to.”

“What makes you think I don't have a weapon?”

“Did you steal something from Jamie? If you did, you're going back in there and paying.” As the words spilled from her lips, she realized how much she sounded like her mother. An unexpected loneliness filled her at the thought.

“I'm not a child. I don't steal.”

Her empty laugh drew waves in her lake of loneliness. “You
stole
my friend.”

He waved her off. “Hardly the same thing.”

“Yes, stealing a human body is far worse.”

“If everything goes as it should, your friend will remain uninjured and everything will be taken care of. All you have to do is tell me where Bethany is.”

“I'll tell you only if you tell me exactly what you are planning. You say you have weapons, but I don't see anything. You talk about a plan, but so far you seem lost. What's going on?”

“What if I told you I have seen one of your books? That your dear friends, the Catharterians, have been using me to protect their little secrets?”

Her breath caught in her throat. He had to be kidding. “Don't lie to me.”

“I speak the truth.”

Was it possible this awful being held the answers she had been looking for? “What are the books called?”

“The
Libros Umbrarum
.” Edward smiled, his white teeth sparkling in the dim lamplight. “The book I saw was made of perfect white vellum, so soft that it is like a baby's skin. Each page was hand painted with gold-infused oils. The book was truly a work of art.”

“What do they say about dealing with spirits?”

His smile widened. “I bet you would love to know. Perhaps, after Bethany's death, I can share the secrets I've learned.”

“I don't want your secrets. I want answers.”

Catching her off guard, Edward grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into his lips. His kiss was unrushed, unyielding, and for a second too long, she relished the way he took her just as she had imagined Jasper doing for so long. She opened her eyes and looked up as his lips roamed hers. Looking into his eyes, she saw only Edward looking back at her. Disgusted not at the kiss, but at the spirit behind it, she pushed him away.

Edward laughed as he dabbed at the wetness left by her kiss. “Jasper sends his best.”

“Jasper? He's … in there?” she stammered as she stared for some sign of her friend, but found nothing.

“I did not wish to kiss some lost girl,” Edward retorted. “If you ask me, Jasper is lowering himself to be with you.”

“We're not together.”

Edward's eyebrow rose. “If that's true, then he certainly needs to restrain his inappropriate thoughts toward you.”

Inappropriate thoughts? Jasper did care for her more than just as a friend. But if that were true, why had he waited so long to make himself known? Was it all a ploy to use her to get rid of Edward? No. If he was inside his body, he had to see that she was already doing everything in her power. That meant his kiss had to be real—or not—and the only way she could know for sure was to have him back. “So you can hear his thoughts?”

“If you continue with me, Starling, you will get the answers you seek.”

It was a strange thing, but Starling missed Jasper even though he stood right next to her. His hair was the same disheveled mess, his chin carried the same dimple, but the look in his eyes would have never belonged to him. And, maybe that was what she missed the most. She'd never really noticed the way he looked at her, but now that Edward had taken his place, all she could remember was the way his gaze had felt on her skin—like a warm hand, it would move over her body, enjoying the subtle curves of her hips, leaving behind a trail of wanting.

“Bethany's shop is a few blocks down. She's probably not open now—it's after ten o'clock—but we can get the cabby to drive us by on the way back to the hotel and we can check.”

“I do not care if she is open or not. I'm not going to her for business.”

“Got it.” She walked to the cab, opened the door, and slid into the backseat. “You coming?”

“Don't help him, Starling. He will never make good on his promise,” Jasper said, his voice taking the place of Edward's.

“Jasper? Are you there? Is Edward gone?” She jumped out of the cab. The familiar warmth had returned to his desert-colored eyes.

Jasper stared at her like he wanted to move, but his body wouldn't obey him. “I am gaining. He's strong, but maybe I can break through. But this thing with the voodoo lady, he's not telling you the truth. You can't help him.”

“If I don't help him, he's going to hurt you.”

Jasper staggered toward her, wrapping his arms around her. “I don't matter. You are more important than a hundred of me.” He leaned down and his lips met hers; this time his kiss was tender, deeper, and richer than the first. Yet, it quickly broke. He staggered backward and his face hardened.

“That won't happen again. Your friend will not break through my barrier.” Edward's cold voice took the place of Jasper's subtle warmth. Edward made his way to the cab and climbed inside, but all she could think of were the remnants of Jasper's kiss.

There was no question about it—Jasper cared. Unfortunately, he was wrong about his worth. She could never let a monstrous spirit like Edward hurt the only man she'd ever been interested in. If Jasper truly knew her, he would have understood that she had learned her lesson about letting others control her fate—that mistake had already cost her mother's life. She couldn't lose anyone else she cared for, not when she could do something to stop the tragedy.

“Let's go. We have a woman to kill.”

“Don't you care about what your Jasper said?” Edward asked.

“I do, but I happen to think that you are right in your anger toward Bethany. She killed your family. Anyone who can hurt an innocent woman and child deserves to be struck down."

“I'm glad you finally are beginning to see things my way. It will make this much easier than I had anticipated.”

She got into the cab. “Take us to the voodoo shop, please.”

The cabby glanced back at her in his rearview mirror. “Everything okay, miss?”

She looked away from his prying eyes. “Fine.”

He put the car into gear and they made their way down the empty street. On the left was a blackened shop, with a wooden sign hung above the door that read:
The Goat's Head
. The shop's windows were painted with odd symbols and the
open
light had been turned off. “Let's go,” she said as she opened the door and stepped out of the taxi. “You wanted your chance. Here it is. But remember, you owe me the books and my friend. If you go against me, I will find a way to send your spirit to the depths of hell even if I have to sell my soul to Zeus. I will make sure you never reach your family in the afterlife.”

Edward cringed. “Regardless of what your Jasper thinks, I will come through. My word is my honor. Honor is the only thing I have besides my eternal soul. I take my vow in earnest.”

“I hope so.” She shifted uncomfortably at the thought of having to go to the nymphs' enemy—Zeus.

She walked up the steps to the door and knocked on the glass.

“Ain't nobody here. Get gone!” a woman answered.

“We need your help,” Starling called back. “My friend thinks he's possessed by a demon.” She cringed as she realized how her lie so closely resembled the truth. “We don't know where else to turn.”