Voodoo Love (And the Curse of Jean Lafitte’s Treasure) (14 page)

             
"Thought I'd heard you mention Mr. Jackson," Miz Irene said. "A good man that one. My husband worked with him. Going to be a real important person someday. I hear he aims to go back into
Barataria
Bay
and find all that contraband those filthy pirates left behind."

             
"Is that so?" Marie kept her eyes on what she was doing, but she listened closely.

             
"Oh yes. Rumor has it that there is untold treasure just waiting to be discovered out in those swamps. Jewelry, gold, rubies! Wouldn't I love to get my hands on that." Irene laughed. "Of course, they say it's cursed treasure. Are curses real, Marie?"

             
Marie smiled. This is what the society women loved about her--the ability to spook and fascinate at the same time.

             
"Yes ma'am. You best stay far from that bayou. Curses are everywhere. Did you know that there is a special tree shaped like a hook out there? I heard that a desperate woman, mad at her lover's betrayal over another woman cursed the tree so that any unmarried girl who passes beneath won't never marry." Marie thickened her accent, a mix of French and Haitian. "I meant to warn you 'bout this cause I know your daughter, Olivia, is supposed to be married out at the Myrtles plantation. That hook tree is right there on that property."

             
Irene's face grew distressed. "Oh dear. Oh dear. You're right. I better warn Olivia. We've already sent out the invitations for the wedding."

             
"Then you best be so careful. Tell Olivia not to walk under no trees."

             
Marie smiled to herself, pleased with the turmoil she'd caused. There was no hook tree, but Marie found that society women for all their airs and fine educations, were always easily fooled.

             
She reflected on what Irene had said about the treasure on the way home. Jean would not be happy about people searching for his wealth. If it was found, it would hurt the comfortable life style Marie had grown used to. Action must be taken.

             
"Jean, we got problems," Marie said as she entered the small house on
Ann Street
. "We got to get to the bayou."

             
"What is it, my love?" Jean looked up from the map he'd been examining. He was always studying ways to get in and out of the
Gulf of Mexico
without being seen by the Navy.

             
"Miz Irene, the lady I just left, says that there is going to be a search in the bayou for left over pirate loot."

             
Jean's eyes narrowed.

             
"Did she? And who is searching for it?"

             
"Andrew Jackson."

             
"Damn!" Jean threw the map to the ground and stood up. "I don't want that little braggart touching my fortune."

             
"Now calm down darlin'," Marie soothed. "I've already come up with a plan."

             
"And what might that be?"

             
"A curse."

             
He stared at her a moment and then roared with laughter. "Bah! You think a few of your hoodoo words are going to stop a man like Andrew Jackson?"

             
"This won't be no hoodoo!"

             
The strength of her words stopped his laughter, and he studied her more carefully. Marie knew he was thinking back to some of the strange things he'd seen in her presence, the magic she'd been able to weave with the help of the voodoo loas. She may have put on small little shows to thrill her customers, but there was no denying that her power was real.

             
As she expected, he nodded at her words.

             
That night they'd gone deep into the depths of the bayou until they'd come to an island. It was the only piece of dry land and surrounded by swamp and cypress trees. Gators stretched out on the banks, their eyes watchful as Marie and Jean strode past them.

             
"Stop!" Marie turned to look at one of the alligators more closely. "That ain't no good."

             
Her hand shook slightly as she pointed to a long, fat gator with its jaws open.

             
"It's yellow."

             
"Unusual color for the creatures, right?" Jean asked.

             
"A bad omen," Marie said. "Very bad luck is coming. Yellow alligators bring nothing but tough times and trouble."

             
Jean said nothing, and Marie didn't know if he believed her or not. Didn't matter. She needed to get away from the bad mojo the gator brought with it. Together they headed deep into the island until they came to the treasure's resting place.

             
Not one piece of it had been disturbed thanks to their clever way of hiding it.

             
"Now my darlin' go ahead and place your curse. I don't see how it will do much good. Trekking out of here would be difficult for anyone, much less with this large a treasure trove." Jean smiled, clearly delighted as he always was at the sight of the massive fortune he'd gathered over the last twenty years.

             
"You got to think about your children's future," Marie said and rubbed at her stomach. Jean's eyes widened in comprehension. "That's right, pirate. You gonna be a papa."

             
"You have made me so happy, Cherie." Jean drew her into his arms and kissed her. She could feel her body spark with lust just as it always did at his touch. It was with a long sigh that she pulled away from him.

             
"Work first, Jean. Then we play."

             
With that she began the preparations for the ceremony. She lit black candles and drew the symbol on the damp ground for the voodoo spirit she meant to contact. Marie pulled out a bottle of Jean's best rum and gingerly poured the liquid over the top of the veve. Then she lit the whole thing on fire. The flames crackled and blazed high.

             
"Bright light, shining light, as I will it, let it be so," Marie chanted, eyes shut. She could feel the approach of a mighty power. It brushed against her skin, lifting the delicate hairs on the back of her neck. Something akin to a sexual thrill ran through her, and she felt her body began to pulse with desire. The feeling didn't startle or repulse her though. That was the power of the voodoo loas. They were always hungry for passion and liked to take advantage of those that summoned them.

             
"Pretty little thing," a voice whispered in her ear. "So sweet. So delightfully unpure."

             
She felt a hand on her breast and something pinched her nipple.

             
"Ready to do my bidding, I see," the voice continued with a chuckle. "Course you know there is always a price for dealing with the Baron."

             
"What do you want, Baron," Marie asked.

             
"No, my sweet Marie, my little priestess, what do you want? You summoned me."

             
"A curse. I need a curse to protect my lover's treasure."

             
"Curses can be tricky things."

             
"What would you ask for to make it happen?"

             
"A drop or two of blood. A dash of lust. A promise of servitude."

             
"Blood and lust are easy enough to obtain." At her words, Marie felt lips pressed to her mouth, and she found herself consumed by a kiss that set her body on fire. As much as she loved Jean, this was a different kind of feeling being ignited in her. The primal need wrapping around her pushed thoughts of her lover away.

             
"I see that you are more than ready with the lust," the Baron chuckled again. "But the servitude. That will be a tricky one. You can't say that the Baron isn't fair in his warnings."

             
Marie nodded. This spirit was a tricky one, worse even than Papa Legba, keeper of the crossroads. The Baron always had a surprise, a catch to any offer or deal he made with a mortal.

             
"What would you ask?"

             
"I need a new crew for the Deadman's Ferry. Part of my job is to escort souls to the other side when they die. 'Course, I don't get just anyone. Only the souls of the dark ones, the ones who might be saved. My job is to test them and what fun I have with that. Your man is older, a seafarer, a pirate. I will invoke the curse, but only if he agrees to command my ferry in death. He will take the dark souls of those lost at sea to the other side." The Baron sighed and stroked her hair.

             
"For how long would my, Jean have to do this?

             
"Until someone else takes his place." The Baron's voice changed, turning sly and cajoling. "It's a small thing I ask in return for keeping your wealth and the wealth of your descendants safe."

             
Small? Marie shuddered. To be enslaved in the afterlife? She couldn't condemn Jean to such a fate. No treasure was worth it.

             
"I'm sorry, Baron." Marie opened her eyes. "I cannot do as you ask."

             
"What? What is it?" Jean moved towards her. "There isn't anything I wouldn't do to protect my treasure."