hand of hate 01 - destiny blues (22 page)

‘When the day came to leave, my mother changed her mind. She believed that if she left for America, she would never see us again. When the agent came to take her from our village, my mother barred the door, and told the agent she would not be going with him.  
 

‘I remember that day vividly. My father and brothers had already left to work in the fields. The agent and his men became enraged. They broke down the door and grabbed my mother, pulling her away from us. She fought them with everything she had; scratching and spitting. I jumped on to the men, trying to protect her, but I was nothing more than a pesky flea to them. They beat my mother to death. Then they grabbed me and dropped me into a sack and took me with them. I woke up in the dark cargo hold of a ship already at sea. I never saw my family or France again.
 

‘I spent the entire voyage to America chained below the decks with the other prisoners. Many of them had also been conscripted and also bound for Shore Haven. The other captives told me I was lucky to have survived, saying the men had bragged of ravaging my mother and burning our house. I imagined the horrible scene over and over in my mind as my mother’s gifts passed to me.  
 

‘The conditions below deck were horrible. For weeks we lived in our own filth, unable to move freely.  Rats and vermin ruled the lower decks, and their constant biting added to our misery. We never received enough fresh water, and whatever food they gave us was spoiled. We all suffered; many began to sicken and die. In the darkness, no one noticed the change in my appearance.
 

‘I found I could perceive the life forces of others as a glowing aura. Their lifelines glowed like bright strings. I predicted who would die next by the intensity of the hues. In my distraught state, I spoke of the impending deaths, and was never wrong.   
 

‘The cook’s helper took a fancy to one of the contortionists, a young girl from Shanghai, who was chained next to me. He brought us scraps of rancid meat from the kitchen. On the day land was sighted, we were excited to be nearing the end of our journey. The cook’s boy took the girl’s excitement as an invitation, and began thrusting himself upon her. She fought him, but could not stop the rape.  
 

‘In those days, I stood no taller than the average four-year-old child. The blows from my fists meant nothing to him. No one could reach us. I joined the others in screaming for help, but no one came. Mingmei cried and begged for him to stop. He bit into her breast, drawing blood. In desperation, I took hold of the lifeline throbbing within his aura. I snapped the thread, and he collapsed on top of her; dead.  I helped her push him off her and we shoved him behind some nearby barrels and crates. We all agreed to keep the events a secret.  
 

‘The ship docked later that day in New York, and we all held our breaths until Obart Russ came to claim us and loaded us into the trucks that would take us to Shore Haven.  
 

‘When they carried me out of the dark hold, people gasped at my appearance. My eyes were as my mother’s had been, with the gold ring around the iris. Old Master Obart, on the other hand, was delighted and pronounced me to be his star attraction.   
 

‘True to his word, when we arrived in Shore Haven, Old Master Obart set me up as the headliner. I spoke no English, so he brought in tutors and provided me with an education, keeping me locked up whenever I was not performing. I lived like a pet, in a well-appointed trailer on the Amusement Park grounds during the summer. In the off-season, I lived at the Russ estate. I ate at their table, and even played with the Russ children, but Obart viewed me as his property, not a human being. When his son Otto began to abuse me sexually, Obart banned me from the estate, so I lived at the amusement park full-time.
 

‘The first several years, I divulged peoples fate from the stage, but Obart wanted more of a show, so he set me up as a fortune teller and mystic. I wore gypsy costumes, and sashayed to the stage each hour, giving public demonstrations and predictions and advertising private readings, where Master Obart made his biggest money off me.  
 

‘One of the roustabouts, a carpenter named Dirk Coumlie, made the most wonderful custom furniture, which he designed and built to fit me perfectly. The first thing he made for me was a rocking chair so comfortable and perfect for my size, I declared it to be the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Dirk furnished my entire trailer. He made me a walnut dressing table with matching mirror, a bed, and even an elaborately carved armoire to hold my clothes. We fell in love.  
 

‘Dirk asked Obart for my hand in marriage, but the Old Master refused, saying that a carpenter could never provide a good home for me. So Dirk built me the magnificent house on Empress Street, and when it was finished, he asked Obart again for my hand. Again, Obart refused. Finally, I begged Obart to let me marry Dirk. He told me I would need to make him the richest man in Germantown. I put my hand in his big paw and promised him that I had already made him the richest man in Germantown, and if he did not let me go, I would make him the deadest man in Germantown.  
 

‘He laughed that big hearty laugh of his, and I reached into his aura and caressed his life’s thread, ever so gently. His heart began to skip a beat, and then another and another. He fell to his knees and agreed to let me go, but begged me to continue working for him. Obart pocketed all my income, so I had no reason to work for him, but in the end, we settled on a contract.  
 

‘I married Dirk and we moved into the beautiful house on Empress. I worked hard at the Amusements, but Obart would not leave me alone. He kept pestering me to make him richer. ‘I do not have your talent for making money,’ he’d say. Obart was a very superstitious man. He believed my magic would make him rich, but he was never satisfied.
 

‘One day, I noticed a creature sitting in a corner of my dressing room, like a little gargoyle. Too small to be fearsome, but too solid to ignore as just a trick of the imagination. I named him Oneiri. He did no harm, and seemed to appear only when I was sitting quietly, so I accepted him as part of my life.  
 

‘I began to talk to him, and discovered the more I did so, the more animated he became. He seemed to be expecting something from me. The first time I gave Oneiri a direct command, Dirk and I were hunting for a murderer that was lurking in the streets of Shore Haven. The year was 1930, the summer after the stock market crash. Imagine my astonishment when we found creatures on the streets that looked to be the same sort of being as my Oneiri. However, these things were much bigger, completely visible, and able to move and react on their own. They attacked us.  
 

‘Dirk and I were armed, but our hammers were no defense against them, the creatures did not bleed or even seem to feel the blows that we pelted upon them. They had us down on the ground, biting and tearing at us. The biggest one had Dirk by the neck. I was afraid the demon would kill my husband.  In desperation I called out to Oneiri to save us.  
 

‘Oneiri instantly appeared in the flesh and even though he was smaller than our attackers, he forced them away from us, cornering them and holding them at bay. I rushed to help Dirk, but he was already gone, his life pooling on the sidewalk of the alley.”    
 

#
 

Her whole body shook. “You must stop this madness chere.” Her eyes blazed into me. “You must reseal the cavern. You must stop the demon master, whoever he is, before he kills again. I have spoken to the authorities many times, but they will not believe one such as myself. There is no one else who can do this.” She gasped for breath. “Promise me.”  
 

I hesitated. “Let me call the nurse.” I reached for the call button and pushed it.  
 

“Promise me!”
 

Sheesh. “Okay, okay, I promise.” Anything to calm her down.  
 

“Swear to it. You will do what needs to be done. Your destiny calls to you,
chere
.” She had that scary look in her eye again.
 

The weight of the universe seemed to hang on my answer, and if I said the wrong thing, I’d fall forever. “I don’t know what to do,” I whispered. “You have to help me.”
 

“You have everything you need,
chere
. You are death incarnate.”
 

The hairs on my arms stood on end. This was the real thing. Like a blood oath. My heart raced with adrenaline, and I felt my resolve harden within me. “I’ll do it.” A wave of heat passed through me, and I shivered.  
 

She looked relieved. “You are braver than you look, I think.”  
 

“Tell me what to do.”
 

The door swung open and Rhys came in, followed by Fontaigne. I sat up straighter and smiled at Rhys, at the same time wishing they hadn’t interrupted. I glanced at my great-grandmother, but she’d closed her eyes. I checked for her pulse, and found it steady.   
 

“How is she?” Rhys came to stand next to the bed, and took her other hand.  
 

Fontaigne got right down to business. “Do you have a few moments, Miss Blackman? I have some paperwork to discuss with you regarding Mrs. Coumlie’s estate.”
 

“Mr. Fontaigne, I don’t think this is a good time.”
 

“Please, call me Gerard, Mattie.”
 

The nurse popped in and shooed us out of the room. “It’s after visiting hours. Mrs. Coumlie needs her rest.” Since we couldn’t stay, we decided to head to the cafeteria on the main floor.  
 

We found a table off in the corner, and Gerard told us what happened.
 

“Madam requested me to come to the house because she’d found you and wanted her will changed to reflect her wishes in regards to her heir. Knowing Madame does not have a lot of time left to her, I of course reshuffled my schedule to accommodate her. We had only just completed the changes to the will, when I realized there was someone else in the house.”
 

“How did the fire start?” asked Rhys.  
 

“There was no fire.” We all looked up to see agent Porter approaching. He pulled up a chair and sat down, uninvited. “You have any ideas about that, Fontaigne?”
 

“Do you two know each other?” I asked.  
 

“I heard a commotion in the kitchen, and of course Mrs. Coumlie is deaf, so I got up to investigate. As I approached the kitchen, a large creature came out through the swinging door and lunged at me. I called 911. I reported a fire, knowing it would bring the fastest response.”
 

I wondered how much the lawyer knew about the Hand of Fate and her personal djemon. Did he know about Oneiri?
 

“What creature? What happened next?”
 

“The creature went after Mrs. Coumlie. She grabbed a fireplace tool and brandished it quite effectively while she shouted at the creature in French. I’m not quite sure what she said, but she held the creature off until the first fire truck arrived, at which point the creature escaped back through the kitchen. The firemen came through the front door, and Mrs. Coumlie collapsed.”
 

“And what were you doing during all this?”  
 

The color rose in his face. “It happened so fast, I’m ashamed to say I froze. The sight of this tiny woman holding off such a monster was incredible.”
 

“Can you describe this creature? How big was it?”
 

The lawyer’s eyes shifted toward Rhys and I, as if he was uncertain how to answer. Oneiri was big, but not what I would call a monster. And why would he attack her?
 

“I, I’m not certain. But it was big. It had to stoop to get through the kitchen doorway.”  
 

Holy crapolli. That wasn’t Oneiri.  
 

CHAPTER 24
 

My cell phone rang. I stepped away from the table to answer.  
 

“Are you Mattie?”
 

“Yeah, who is this?”
 

“Lance asked me to call and tell you he’s been arrested. He gave me your number and asked me tell you he needs you to find him a lawyer.”
 

I gripped the phone. “What?”
 

“The FBI arrested him for the murder of all those people. He wants you to get him a lawyer and bail him out. I told him I didn’t want to get involved, so that’s all I got to say.” The caller hung up.   
 

My stomach lurched; I closed my eyes, my mind searching frantically for the lie, and not finding it. Oh my god, they actually arrested Lance for murder. The evidence had to be circumstantial, they couldn’t possibly have enough evidence to implicate him.
 

On the other hand, my great grandmother had just fought off a monstrous djemon that was probably the real killer. I hoped Porter could convince the taskforce they had wrong guy, but I doubted that a hundred-and-twenty-seven year-old dwarf and her lawyer would be able to change their minds. I tried to calm down, but my mind was in overdrive.