Cursed (26 page)

Marie Toussaint stood at the sink in her kitchen, washing dishes while her daughter, Bess, dried. She heard her son speak from the direction of the front porch and stopped to listen, curious about who had come to visit.

“G’evenin’.” Tommy’s deep voice drifted into the house.

Assuming it was one of the grandkids who lived in the neighborhood, Marie checked the bowl on top of the counter near the door to the living room. It was always loaded with treats and the first place the kids went.

It was full, as usual.

“Who is it, Tommy?” Bess called.

“Damned if I know.”

The eldest of her kids, Bess tried to take care of everyone or bullied them to death trying. Marie watched her toss the towel she was using to dry dishes and storm out of the kitchen.

“Who did you bring me here?” Marie whispered to the spirits, looking up.

Candace.

Marie stilled in her movements. From what she knew, the
mambos
rarely left the city. If the House leader herself was seeking her out, it had to be about something important.

Drying her hands, Marie shuffled into the living room just as Bess opened the door for the graceful, gracious Candace.

“Madame Marie,” Candace said with a smile.

The cats came out of the woodwork when she entered, sensing her subtle, but powerful healing magic. The five of them surrounded her, nuzzling her legs.

“Welcome!” Marie said, grinning. “Shoo!” She waved the cats away and took Candace’s hand, anxious to take her to the magic-protected shed out back.

“Goodness, Marie, you need an AC unit in here,” Candace said.

“Oh don’t go there!” Bess snapped.

In her fury after Jayden brought the girl over, Marie had tossed the working AC out the window, breaking it into pieces when it fell. She’d been worried about the white zombie lacing it with black magic spells, only to discover she’d been wrong about the girl completely.

And now, she once again had no AC.

You coulda told me sooner,
she addressed the spirits silently.

She led Candace out of the house and to her special place to perform rites then lit candles dressed with cascarilla powder and vanilla on the table where she did most of her spell work.

“I’ve never seen such a collection,” Candace said, admiring the bookshelf dedicated to thumb-sized vials of oils. “Marie, you must have everything.”

“I hope I do,” Marie said proudly.

“I brought you some tea.” Candace held out a small tin of loose leaf tea. “May I?” She motioned to a chair.

“Yes.” Marie waited for her to get comfortable, anxious to hear why the House leader was here.

“The girl I told you about,” Candace started. She tapped the table with her fingernails, gaze growing distant. “I spent the morning in meditation, communicating with my ancestors. Marie, I think she’s the chosen one you spoke of this past weekend.”

Marie listened intently. First, Jayden called to ask if he could visit for a voodoo-related reason, now this. It was an incredible bountiful day, in terms of good news.

“You said you knew who she was?” Candace asked. “You learned this week?”

Marie’s eyes went to a jar on one of her shelves. She pushed herself to her feet and crossed to it, returning with the jar in her hand.

Candace lifted it, peering at the small segment of an earlobe suspended in gel.

“I mistook her for the white zombie,” Marie explained. “She wasn’t no zombie. When I made a spell with her blood, I got a vision. She is the chosen.” She pointed to the flesh.

“Is this … Adrienne’s?” Candace asked. “This is what happened to her ear?”

Marie nodded.

Candace smiled and then chuckled. She set the jar down. “What a fortunate turn of events. Even if by accident, you are able to confirm what I felt was true.”

“The white zombie haunts her, as does the Red Man,” Marie said. “But I don’t know why. The spirits won’t tell me nothing more.”

“I’ve sought answers as well. All they tell me is that the chosen is going to be misled. Does that make sense to you?”

Marie tilted her head, working on recalling everything the spirits had shared with her.

“Or maybe you can tell me what it is you’re hiding, Marie,” Candace continued. “Because they tell me you have the secret I need to help Adrienne.”

“No secret.”

“Marie,” Candace chided.

Marie sighed. She debated what to do. If her grandson wasn’t mixed up in this and the chosen not essential to the future of all of them, she’d continue to cover up the entire truth. As it was, she might need Candace to help Jayden one day.

Not everything,
the spirits told her.

“The curse you are trying to break,” she began. “My family helped the bokor who created it. Long ago.”

Candace’s eyes widened.

“You cannot tell no one of this. Even the chosen,” Marie said sternly.

“I swear on the spirits of my ancestors, I will not.”

“There were three families involved in the curse who seem to be involved in the prophecy, too. I do not know all the details, except that my family, Jayden’s father’s family, and the family of the Adrienne girl and white zombie were all a part of it.”

“Your family was not cursed.”

“No. We were spared. But we are involved in the prophecy, through Jayden.
Quand li gagnin kichose dans so latete, ce pas dans so lapie.
”
I’m used to seeing sky as “ciel”.

“Agree, except it won’t just be the flies caught if the sky falls.” Candace took the information in.

“My family helped the white zombie’s ancestor create the black magic that would grant the wishes of the two lovers. The curse should be over. Ninety-nine firstborns from each of the two lovers’ families are dead. Jayden is the hundredth born, the first in four hundred years who is not cursed.”

“But something happened on Adrienne’s side, within the Fourth House. The white zombie – her sister – thwarted the Red Man, and now Adrienne bears the mark of the curse,” Candace finished. “Which set into play the prophecy.”

“Yes,” Marie said with a sigh. It was almost a relief to have the dark secret off her shoulders. “But I can’t understand why the white zombie poses a threat. The spirits scream at me, say if she regains what was hers, she will draw forth evil and destroy many. We have found a Warrior in Rene, the Chosen in the girl, and … I think Jayden is the Devil. But for what purpose?”

Candace frowned.

“It makes my head hurt. I pray and beg the spirits and gods each night for answers,” Marie said sadly. “All they tell me: Keep Jayden safe. Don’t let the white zombie get him. Keep him safe.”

“If he’s the Devil, he may be free of the curse, but he’s not free of whatever happened four hundred years ago,” Candace said. She took Marie’s hands. “The curse and the prophecy are connected, the way your families are.”

Marie squeezed her, sensing her friend and fellow
mambos
was as worried and lost as she was.

“Thank you for trusting me, Marie,” Candace said. “Adrienne is safe. Rene watches over her.”

“The reluctant warrior is rising,” Marie said, smiling.

“Complaining all the way.”

“He is a good boy. I worry there is no one to protect my Jayden.”

Candace was quiet for a moment. Marie took the jar with Adrienne’s earlobe back to the shelf, aware it was far more important than she could understand. If she needed to make a spell against the white zombie, what was more powerful than the flesh and blood of her sister?

What kind of spell stopped someone neither living nor dead?

“What if we talked to the Red Man?” Candace asked in a hushed tone.

Marie turned, startled by the question.

“I know. It sounds crazy. I don’t know what else to do. I’m doing my best to help Adrienne, but I don’t have all the answers she needs.”

“I understand. But Candace, the Red Man … summoning a spirit like his will require the blackest of magic.”

“I know.” Candace rose, distraught. “You know my brother performs such magic. I can ask for his help.”

“No, Candace. My ancestors thought the same long ago and drew the Red Man’s curse upon them.” Marie shook her head gravely. “We cannot risk it.”

“What do we do?”

“What the spirits tell us. Help Adrienne, and I will help Jayden.”

Candace drew a deep breath. “You’re right. Of course. It is so hard for me to see her in pain, to know I may not be able to save her. She’s a good girl, Marie. The spirits are drawn to her. She is meant for … something great.”

“Like Jayden. My ancestors don’t tell me why.”

They exchanged looks of concern.

“We are doing all we can,” Candace said. “I will keep researching and praying. There’s more. I just don’t know what it is.”

I’m sorry I can’t tell you, my friend.
Marie smiled in comfort. “We can only do what the spirits let us.”

Even if it meant lying to someone who might be able to help.

Adrienne didn’t mean to cry herself to sleep. She awoke early the next morning, refreshed although her eyes were puffy. She didn’t want to think about the day before. The only thing that mattered today: figuring out more about the song she’d discovered.

With a jolt, she realized she hadn’t left her daddy dinner and it was almost too late to get ready and make him breakfast. He might think something was really wrong, if she didn’t get herself together. Explaining to him that she’d lost her voice and been made a fool of in front of the school wasn’t how she wanted to start her weekend.

She sat up and glanced around. The apartment was quiet at six thirty in the morning, though her daddy would be up soon to get ready for work. He left at seven thirty, and she left at seven for Madame Estelle’s.

She rose and crossed to her dresser, stopping when she saw the mirror.

You must sing.

The words appeared to have been written in blood. She rubbed her face, upset by the sight of blood but more than that, angered at the constant reminders of a danger she didn’t understand.

“What? You couldn’t find no sticky notes?” she asked in frustration. “You know who has to clean this up? It ain’t you!”

Adrienne almost started crying again, distressed at the reminder that she’d lost more than her faith in humanity the day before. She scribbled the newest communication on a piece of paper and added the note to her collection. Whether it was her sister’s spirit or some other supernatural entity, she was pissed that something had decided to pour salt in her wounds first thing in the morning, not to mention cost her time getting ready by having to clean off her mirror.

She took a quick shower and changed into the long skirt and bright purple blouse that made up her uniform at Madame Estelle’s. She tied a bright scarf around her hips and added a choker then tied her hair in a bun.

“Daddy, you up?” she called, hurrying from her bedroom to the kitchen.

“Yeah,” came the groggy response.

Not wanting to talk to him about yesterday or Candace yet, she made him scrambled eggs as fast as she could then pushed down the handle of the toaster.

“Breakfast is ready!” she shouted and grabbed her cross-body bag then her tarot cards. “I’m late! Email me if you need anything.” She didn’t wait for his response before pulling the door closed behind her and hurrying to the elevator.

Adrienne glanced down to make sure she looked decent, even though she felt horrible. She’d always thought she looked cute in the outfit the Madame Estelle gifted her after being impressed by her reading skills. Swiping on some mascara and lip gloss in the elevator, she readied herself to face the world when all she wanted to do was hide.

She wasn’t excited about going to work to earn money to produce her own album. She didn’t look forward to counting her tips and putting aside lunch money for next week. After a few minutes of thought on the slow elevator, she realized why.

There may not be lunches next week and if there were, they wouldn’t be with Emma, who would probably no longer be her friend. She’d done exactly what Emma said she would and turned against her. And what happened if Candace’s tea didn’t lift the curse before she lost her scholarship? No amount of tip money would let her stay in the exclusive academy. If she couldn’t sing, she couldn’t produce an album or have Christie help her prepare for an audition for a conservatory. She felt like she was about to lose everything that mattered in her life. She’d end up broken and poor, like her daddy, or crazy and poor, like her mama.

The elevator doors opened, and she froze.

Jayden was in the lobby. He turned at the elevator’s ding.

The doors started to close. Adrienne crossed her arms and walked out, afraid to know why he was there.

“Um, you want a ride?” he asked, shifting feet nervously. He wore chinos and a polo that skimmed his muscular form. He held her gaze.

Adrienne shook her head.

“It’s raining.”

She glanced past him out the door. He was right. Her walk to the bus stop would be miserable, but he hated magic. If he didn’t run away from her after yesterday, he would when he saw where she worked.

If he does, I’ll know we just ain’t meant to be.

“Please.”

“All right,” she murmured.

He opened the door for her. “Wait here. I can get the car.”

Adrienne walked past him, breathing in his fresh, masculine scent. She almost objected about not melting in the rain but stopped. She was still angry, and the idea of him getting wet made her feel a little better.

Jayden trotted out of sight and reappeared a few minutes at the wheel of his car.

She got into the passenger side and closed the door.

“You work at Madame Estelle’s?” he asked.

She nodded. They fell into quiet for a moment.

“What’re you doing here, Jayden?” she asked.

“Driving you to work.”

“No. Really.”

He glanced at her. “I wanted to see you.”

Adrienne refused to take his words seriously. He’d been part of her set up. Maybe he was taking pity on her or maybe, he felt guilty and wanted her to make him feel better.

She wasn’t going to, though.

“You not talking to me now?” he asked.

“Should I be?”

“Look, Adrienne, I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”

“How ‘bout explaining why you didn’t give me no warning? Or maybe you can tell me how far you went to set me up for such an epic fall.”

“What? I –”

“We’re here. Thanks for the ride.” She opened the door and got out, not listening to him. Instead, she trotted into the small shop.

Adrienne’s plain, dark room fit her mood today. A clean tablecloth was on the table, and she sat, leaning down to put her purse in the box under the table. She closed it then spread out the maroon tablecloth and then set her cards on top.

Rattled, yet thrilled by the idea that Jayden went out of his way to seek her out, she drew several deep breaths before stepping out of her room to see if he’d left.

Jayden was the only person seated in the small waiting area. He smiled when she emerged from the back.

“So, um, why do you work here?” he asked, glancing around. While uneasy, he gave no indication he was in a hurry to leave.

“Not many people can read cards like I can,” she said with some pride. “I know you don’t believe in no magic, but I am good at what I do.”

“I believe that without a doubt,” he replied. “Is it … um, real?”

“Yeah. The cards tell a story. It ain’t always easy to understand the story, though. Like each card can mean something different to each person.”

“Interesting.” He didn’t seem to know what to say for a minute. “On TV they always get the death card. Seems … weird.”

“The Death card means change,” she said with a small smile. “It’s a good card in the right context.”

“We won last night,” he said, returning the smile. “You weren’t there.”

How could he bring up such a sore topic? Adrienne started to say something then stopped. The door jingled and someone walked in. By the slightly lost look, she assumed it was the woman’s first reading.

Adrienne shifted her attention to the client then led her back to one of the psychic’s rooms.

When she returned, three more people were standing in a line, waiting to be seen.

Jayden had picked up a
Psychics Today
magazine and was reading, one eyebrow quirked up skeptically.

The sight made her want to laugh. Was he trying to understand her world or just trying to figure out why he was there?

She took her client back for a reading. They lasted thirty minutes, and as soon as she was finished, the psychic sent over another client.

Adrienne had a steady flow of clients for a few hours before she decided to take a break. Assuming Jayden had gotten tired of being ignored, she was surprised when she went to the front and saw him seated where he had been earlier, talking to a couple of the regulars who came every Saturday since she began reading cards there.

When he saw her, he flashed a smile at the two and stood, crossing to the counter.

“Got you a coffee.” He placed it on the counter. “Not sure what you liked, so I got a mocha.”

“Thank you,” she murmured. “You’re still here.”

“I’ll wait ‘til you have time to talk or until you’re done working.”

Adrienne felt badly. She wanted to despise him and think the worst after yesterday. Gazing at him, she found it hard to deny what her heart told her. She’d been half in love with him since he almost knocked her over in the cafeteria. Yesterday did nothing to change how she felt and neither did the cards that kept warning her that they’d face danger if they were together.

What was she supposed to do?

“Yeah, right,” she said finally.

“I will. Watch. Keep ignoring me.”

She tried not to smile. Adrienne took her coffee and turned away, disappearing behind the curtain leading to the back. The mischievous side of her wanted to prove him wrong, if for no other reason then so she could write him off as the jerk she desperately wanted to consider him. She doubted someone as popular and handsome as Jayden would need to stick around to impress a girl when he had to have a million others waiting for him.

Jayden didn’t budge. Adrienne peeked out at him after each client. She watched him, though, when he didn’t know she was looking. He played on his phone, and made friends of almost everyone who walked in. With his easygoing nature, Jayden got along with everyone from the superstitious old ladies to the Japanese tourists. He seemed to have fun, listening and laughing with them.

What was it about him that fascinated her enough for her to disregard the warnings of her cards? They’d spoken of a connection in their past. Was this what she felt? Their ancestors shared a history?

The mid-afternoon lull came at around three. Adrienne drew a breath and went to the small break area in back for some water. When she returned to her room, Jayden was seated at the table.

“What’re you doing?” she demanded, crossing her arms.

“Getting my cards read or future predicted. Whatever you do,” he replied with a smile.

“So you can make fun of me more after yesterday?”

“I would never do that.” He sounded so sincere that the edge of her anger melted.

Adrienne sat down across from him, feeling nervous being alone with him. She feared learning what he thought of her after yesterday.

“How does this work?” he asked, glancing at the cards.

“Well,” she paused, face growing warm. Would he think she was silly or stupid? “You take the cards and they absorb your energy. Just shuffle them around.” She pushed them towards him. “Think about something you want to know while you do it.”

“Like the future?”

“More like a question or a particular problem or circumstance.”

He was quiet, thoughtful, as he shifted and shuffled the cards. “Okay. Do I tell you?”

“You don’t have to.” She watched him for a moment then patted the table. “Set them cards down.”

He did.

Her heart was beating quickly at the thought of him deciding she was too backwards or superstitious.

Adrienne laid out six cards and studied them, concentrating hard. She wanted to make this good for him.

“This is you,” she said, pointing to the familiar Devil. “I um, pulled your card earlier this week and when Tara came here last weekend. I didn’t know it was you at the time.”

“The devil?” his eyes widened. “Wow.”

“It ain’t bad,” she told him. “Well, I mean, it ain’t like you’re a demon. It means you’re trapped. Or maybe you feel trapped.” She shook her head. “I’m sick of this card.”

“Which one?”

She pointed to the Ace of Cups. “It keeps popping, but I don’t know why.”

“What does it mean?”

“A connection to the past. But like, it means there’s something in your past that is stickin’ with you.”

At his silence, she glanced up.

Jayden was staring at her. He shifted and leaned forward in interest.

Her brow furrowed. “That means something to you?”

“Maybe. What else?”

“I’ll explain them then put them together into a story,” she said. “This one indicates you’re afraid of yourself or at least, of letting who you are shine through. This one, that you must not fear change. This one …” She flushed. “… could indicate that you fall too quickly in love or um, don’t think twice before making a decision that backfires on you.” She rushed on. “This is strange. It shows that you um, have a duality of heart. You fall for two women?” She eyed him.

Jayden met her gaze then laughed. “No. Definitely not me. I don’t need any woman right now.”

“Oh.” The words hit her hard.

“I mean, I don’t mean that like that … not about you,” he stumbled. “Anyway, what story does it tell?”

Wounded, she nonetheless studied the cards. The sense of danger lingered around his cards.