Voodoo Love (And the Curse of Jean Lafitte’s Treasure) (11 page)

             
"Juan, I--"

             
"
Elizabeth
, there are all kinds of things in the bayou, things that you don't want to encounter. Please get into the boat."

             
Things? That didn't sound good. I managed to get in the boat, tensing as it rocked precariously from side to side. Juan pushed off using the stick and then we were gliding through the swamp, towards the drums.

             
Without a moon to guide us, the swamp was just eerie, and I heard odd sounds that I couldn't identify. Sometimes it seemed that laughter, rough and course, bubbled around us, and once, I could have sworn someone just to my left was crying. But I could make out nothing, and when I shone the flashlight around there was only trees and the occasional splash of water.

             
As I took another sip of vodka, I squinted in the darkness, trying to see Juan. Another time and place, perhaps this would have been considered a romantic outing. Even though we were in danger, my mind wandered back to our kiss earlier that day in my house. It had set my hormones off, making me long for him and causing me to wonder what else had taken place between us two years ago. My dreams were always explicit when it came to Juan and more than once, I dreamed about sex with him. Had we ever actually done it though? I couldn't remember, but I knew I wanted to. And I wanted it bad.

             
I drank again, knowing that I shouldn't be having these thoughts. Before I could examine them further, an orange light flickered in the distance. As we got closer, I could see it was a fire someone had started in an old chiminea. Its flames illuminated a weathered and worn shack surrounded by
Cypress
trees. A figure sat next to the fire deftly beating on a small drum and chanting.

             
"Is that Euralie?" I asked.

             
Juan nodded and maneuvered us towards her small wooden dock.  She continued with her work, not appearing to notice us as we got out of the boat. I gripped the bottle of vodka tighter as we approached her, ready to use it as a weapon.

             
Euralie stood and the bayou fell silent without the sound of her drums. Her eyes were tightly shut. She was inside a white circle made of bones laid out on the ground. Various candles were lit inside the circle, surrounding a tall drum called a tanbou. A small animal skull sat to her right, and her long green sundress swept against it as she swayed. Outside the circle were symbols and intricate pictures that I couldn't interpret, but I knew what this was.

             
Voodoo.

             
You can't live in Barataria or anywhere in
Louisiana
for that matter without being aware of it. It's part of the backbone of the culture around here. Many people believe in talismans and voodoo spirits who have the power to give and take away.

             
"Don't break my circle." Euralie kept her eyes shut. "One of you ain't natural anyway. You have no power here.  But the other…."

             
She opened her eyes and stared at me. Thought it had been two years since I'd last seen her, she didn't look surprised to see me. If anything she looked…angry.

             
"You got all the power." Euralie said. "Your very skin sings of power, Elizabeth Brown."

             
"You remember me?"

             
"Oh, I know you, alright. And I’m good friends with an acquaintance of yours."

             
"Who?"

             
She pointed at my vodka bottle. "I see you brought an offering. That's good. The voodoo loas like all kinds of liquor."

             
"Loas?" I turned to Juan who merely shrugged.

             
"Spirits, little girl," Euralie whispered. "The gods of voodoo are called the loas. And they be stirred up something awful tonight. They need something to calm their spirits."

             
"I know just how they feel," I said.

             
"Do you?" Euralie peered at me. "You look like someone who has seen many things. You still got my treasure map?"

             
I glanced at Juan for help here.

             
"She doesn't remember anything Euralie. Not the treasure, the location--nothing." He took a step towards her, but she held up a small cross made from two chicken bones.  "I won't hurt you."

             
"You're a dead thing, unnatural," Euralie said. "Can't be too careful when it comes to your kind. Reveal!"

             
With that she raised her hand and blew black ash at Juan. It drifted towards him, wrapping around his body. He shuddered and pale green glow emanated from his skin. Euralie's eyes widened and a slow smile crossed her face.

             
"Ah, you got the mark. Lafitte has placed his curse on you. You're a crewman, ain't you?"

             
"Yes." Juan stepped towards her, his hands outstretched. "But I’m trying to earn my freedom, and I've made a deal with Lafitte to do it. I can still be saved."

             
Euralie studied him, sizing him up in her way. I felt lost though. What were they talking about?

             
"Maybe you can," she said, eyes darting back and forth between us. "Maybe you can. Take the girl inside and rest. You both look terrible. There's a room in the back you may use."

             
"There's a man after us, Euralie," I said. "Diego Martes. He killed my husband."

             
For a moment, she looked stricken. Grief stretched across her face, and I thought I saw something dark in her eyes. My visions of the past had revealed she had no fondness for Diego. He'd abused her and stolen from her, and while I still didn't know their whole story, I didn't want her caught off guard. She gave me a tight smile and nodded.

             
"I'm ready for him. I'll keep watch. There's all kinds of tricks up my sleeve now." She looked out into the dark bayou and then over at Juan. "You rest. I think you got unfinished business with that one. Diego won't cross the swamp tonight."

             
I hoped she was right. I hoped those ghosts were keeping him occupied.

             
"Leave the vodka," she instructed.

             
Euralie's house was small but clean--if you could get past the dried gator heads on the wall and her collection of animal skulls that seemed to rest on every shelf of the house. There were strange drawings on the floor, the walls, and even one on the ceiling.

             
"Veves," I said.

             
Juan raised in eyebrow and I gestured at the drawings.

             
"A veve is like a symbol for certain voodoo deities." I pointed at one on the wall. "That's the one for Marie Laveau, the famous voodoo priestess."

             
"How do you know that?" Juan asked.

             
"I…I don't know," I admitted. It had just come to me. Maybe another piece of the puzzle was finally being revealed. Something about those symbols seemed familiar.

             
"Let's go find a room," Juan said. He probably didn't mean it to the sound the way he did, full of a double meaning, but that's where my mind went and I couldn't help but blush a little.  Luckily, Juan didn't see.

             
I pushed open the door to the bedroom, amazed when the candles placed all over the room suddenly lit on their own. Their small flames whisked to life illuminating a four poster bed draped with white, gauzy fabric.

             
"Did you do that?"

             
Juan shook his head and looked around the room, his stance cautious.

             
Directly above the bed on the ceiling was another veve, and I recognized this one, too.

             
"La Sirene," I said. "The voodoo loas for lust and love. She sings to her lovers, seducing them into her bed."

             
Juan shut the door. For a moment we stared at each other, both of us acutely aware of the awkwardness of being alone like this. It was one thing to be on the bayou with him, but a whole other thing to be in a bedroom with the man I'd been fantasizing about for the last year.

             
"I think I'll freshen up a little," I said and headed to the small bathroom attached to the room. There was a blue silk robe hanging on the back of its door and I couldn't help but think longingly of taking a shower. Maybe Euralie wouldn't mind if I borrowed her robe?

             
Twenty minutes later, I left the bathroom feeling clean and slightly more relaxed.

             
Juan waited for me by the window.  He gave me a soft smile as he took in the robe and the fact that I was naked underneath it. Instantly, there was heat in the room. Not the humidity of the bayou though. No, this heat was more sultry, more sensual--a reflection of all my bottled up emotions. The exhaustion and shock of the last several hours slipped away as Juan approached me.

             
"Are you alright?" he asked.

             
"No." My truthful answer caught him off guard. He touched a strand of my hair, ran a finger down the side of my face.

             
"What can I do,
Elizabeth
?"

             
He made my name sound beautiful, desirable.  I knew what I wanted from Juan before this whole crazy adventure came to an end. Sex. Now it was my turn to give him a suggestive look.

             
"You sure that's what you need right now?" he asked with a grin. He didn't wait for my answer. Instead, he pulled me to him.

             
I shut my eyes and let my body drown in the sensation of his touch. He cupped my face between his hands, kissing me so deeply that I felt dizzy and weak-kneed. Before I could turn into a puddle of desire on the floor, Juan picked me up and carried me to the bed. He ran a hand over the robe, giving the sash a small tug. With slow and patient hands, he parted my robe. For a moment, he stared down at me, the heat of his gaze warming my body. Then he kissed the hollow of my neck, his lips pressing as light as butterfly wings against my sensitive skin. I couldn't fight the shivers, and as he moved back up there was a satisfied grin on his face. The robe slipped from my shoulders and arms. Gently, he pushed me back against the soft bedspread, trailing little kisses down my legs. I moaned softly and his grin grew wider.

             
"Stop right there," I said. "I want you to undress for me."

             
A wicked little light gleamed in his eyes.