To Make A Witch (8 page)

“We need to get to the Ritz-Carlton.”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “The Ritz?”

“Chloe—the Messenger—told me I could find her there. I just hope she hasn’t left yet.”

“While you were talking with my aunt, Ava told me all about Morgause’s people. Isn’t Chloe just a little girl? How can she possibly protect you?”

“Not her. I need Bel. He turned a vampire to ash. Hopefully he’s just as effective on giant snakes.”

The taxi dropped Michel off at Baron Samedi’s House of Voodoo and I agreed to touch base with him in an hour. As he got out, Ava became agitated and tried to follow, but he murmured something in her ear and she relaxed. She didn’t speak to me. I wasn’t sure which one I liked the least—freaked out Ava, or sulking Ava.

When we arrived at the hotel on Canal Street, I finally understood what the phrase “putting on the Ritz” meant. The Ritz-Carlton New Orleans was exactly the sort of place I’d always secretly believed I would end up at. On the outside of the imposing building, carved stone swags ran along the top of the first story windows like icing on a cake. Inside, the lobby was lit by crystal chandeliers and light bouncing off of polished marble floors. Everything, from the brass handles on the doors to the vases of fresh flowers displayed on the tables, had been chosen to create an air of dignity and luxury. I was gaping and could feel myself grinning, but for once, I didn’t care.

Ava trailed behind looking completely disinterested. Coming from money and her own hotel-owning family had made her immune to the beauty around her.

As we took the elevator to the ninth floor, I prayed that Bel and Chloe hadn’t checked out; I had no other way to contact them. When I knocked on the door to their room, the silence stretched for so long that I almost gave up hope. Suddenly, there was the faintest hint of sound behind the door, and I knew that someone was watching me through the peephole.

Tired, afraid, and completely fed up, I thumped the door with my fist three times to underline my demand. “O-PEN-UP!”

After a moment, the lock turned and the door swung open. Bel slouched in the opening wearing nothing but a pair of black briefs. He looked terrible; his hair stood up in red spikes and his eyes were bloodshot. “What the hell do you want?” he growled.

“We need help. Can we come in?”

“Who the hell are you?”

I stood up as tall as my five foot one inch stature would let me. “I’m Lacey McInnis. I’m the Maiden.”

He scowled, and then waved his hand. “Right, right. Sorry, love, I forgot. Once you start running messages for Morgause, the recipients all start to look alike. What do you want?”

“I want to come in.”

I knew by the way he hesitated that he was lying about not recognizing me; he just didn’t want to let me in. Without waiting for him to answer. I pushed past and Ava followed. “Where’s Chloe?”

He slammed the door behind us. “How the hell should I know? She must be rattling around here somewhere.”

I walked through the marble foyer into a spacious living room, complete with a fireplace and billiards table. Glass doors opened onto a stone terrace overlooking the French Quarter. The view was incredible, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the needles and small vials littered over one of the coffee tables.

Bel threw himself down onto one of the sofas. “Get out here, Messenger!”

The doors leading to the bedroom opened. Chloe peered out, rubbing her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Apparently it’s time to get up.”

Chloe frowned at the clock on the mantle over the fireplace. “It’s almost two! What happened to our wake-up call? We were supposed to check out of here ages ago. We’ve missed our flight, you know.” She stomped around the room, a small figure in flannel pajamas. When she noticed the drug paraphernalia on the table, her face never changed expression, but her voice was filled with disdain. “Get rid of your junk, Bel.”

He flounced off the couch and gathered up his things, disappearing into the bathroom muttering, “Yes, your majesty.”

“Stupid junkie,” she muttered back. Making a face, she hopped on the sofa Bel had vacated and pointed to the one opposite. “You guys might as well sit down. We’re going to have to pay for the extra night so I guess we aren’t in a hurry anymore.”

I sat down. Ava sat close beside me. Chloe frowned, and squinted at us, but didn’t ask why we were there or make excuses for Bel’s drug habit. I felt a wave of sadness that someone so young could be forced to have a companion as sordid as Bel, but then pushed it away. No one had sympathy for me when I was the Crone’s slave. All they did was act high and mighty, and so pure, so condemning of my choices. I’d been tossed to the wolves and I’d survived. Chloe looked like she would too.

“The White Lady is dead. It was the same creature that attacked Claire Benoit—the snake Li Grand Zombi.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. I’m sorry.” The girl sounded more confused than sorry—as if she had no idea why I was telling her this.

One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. It took me a moment before I could respond. “So we need your help. You said to contact you if we did.”

The girl bowed her head and her tattered blonde hair covered her cheeks. When she looked back up, there was a hint of pink in her pale face. “I shouldn’t have told you that. I’m just the Messenger.”

“We just need somewhere safe to stay until we can figure things out.”

“Figure things out,” Ava echoed beside me.

Chloe cocked her head and frowned. As her eyes darted back and forth between me and Ava, Chloe looked as if she was considering our request, but then she sat up straight and said, “Hey! When did your friend get turned into a zombie?”

CHAPTER NINE

AN ALLIANCE

I stared at her. “What?”

Chloe brushed tangled hair back from her face. “I’m not exactly an expert, but that’s a classic zombie.”

“That’s crazy.” But Ava didn’t respond to the accusation and a whisper of unease curled through my stomach.

“Bel!” Chloe yelled. “Come in here!”

The man sauntered out of the bathroom. “In, out—make up your mind, Messenger.”

She pointed at Ava. “Take a look.”

Bel leaned forward, squinting. “Oh, right. A zombie. Missed that.”

The girl looked at me as if to say, “See!”

One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. “Ava isn’t a zombie, for crying out loud!”

Chloe stood and marched over to us. “Stand up.” Ava obeyed. “Let’s go now. OK?”

“OK,” Ava replied as she followed Chloe two times around the coffee table and back to her original position. When Chloe sat down, so did Ava.

Bel chuckled. “Zombies are fun.”

When Ava’s shoulders brushed mine, I darted away.

“Relax.” Bel drawled. “Zombies don’t eat brains. They’re ordinary people who’ve been spelled by a bokur into a trance-like, incredibly suggestible state. Didn’t you even notice that she was following you around, mimicking everything you did? I have to admit, I prefer her this way. I don’t bruise easily, but the she-wolf just about cracked my jaw in two.”

I couldn’t help myself; I inched farther away on the couch. “Michel did this.”

“Who’s Michel?” Chloe asked.

“The Voodoo Queen’s nephew. He gave Ava some sort of medicine to help her cope with . . . what we saw.”

Though Chloe’s face was soft and childish, her eyes were wise. “The bones were gone?”

I nodded.

Bel came over to Ava and lifted her chin with his fingers. I knew the burn of his touch, but Ava never flinched. “Zombies are created by a bokur using any drug that helps to separate the body from the mind. LSD will do, or just about any other street drug, but the spell a bokur uses to steal the will of the subject is a deep secret.”

I felt sick. “He said it was a mild sedative.”

Bel laughed. “Well it’s that all right. Cheer up, love. There’s no real harm done. Perhaps your bokur friend did the right thing. Mundanes have no business mingling with our kind. Perhaps he intended to remove the spell as soon as he thought Ava was more stable. Until then, she’ll follow anyone around like a puppy dog. She’ll say the right thing when prompted, but her mind is gone for the moment. He probably did the girl a kindness.”

Chloe looked troubled. “Maybe, but zombies are usually created for a purpose.” She glanced at me through her wild hair. “Think of it as a kind of brain washing with an embedded trigger. When the trigger is pulled, the zombie will act out its creator’s will.”

A chill went through me. Michel had sent me away on purpose. He could have done anything to Ava while I was gone. “I need to get Michel to undo whatever he did.”

Bel snorted. “And what if the girl turns into a hysterical lunatic when you do?”

“She won’t.”

The man draped himself over a chair. He was still in only his underwear, and unlike most redheads, the skin on his long limbs was creamy and unfreckled. A small flame licked me in unexpected places. Disgusted, I forced myself to coldness.

Chloe’s eyes were now shrewd. “Go put some clothes on, Bel. We’re going with them.”

“Whatever for?”

“Haven’t you been listening? Li Grand Zombi has the bones of two witches now.”

Bel went very still. “Really?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

He leapt to his feet. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

What we were waiting for was for Bel and Chloe to get dressed. It was one of the worst fifteen minutes of my life. No matter what Bel said, I couldn’t shake the fear that at any moment, Ava would turn into a brain eater. When Chloe emerged from the bedroom, Ava and I were in opposite corners of the room, staring at each other.

“Whoa, whoa!” Chloe stepped between us. “In case I wasn’t clear before, the zombie will basically follow your lead until triggered. So if you show suspicion and aggression, that’s exactly what you’ll get back. And she’s a lot bigger than you.”

Bel came out of the bathroom dressed in rock star chic. “Chloe, did we return that rental?”

“Not that you were in any state to notice, but yes, we did.”

He looked at me. “Do you have a vehicle?” I shook my head.

Sighing, the man picked up the phone on the side table. “Concierge? Yes, we need a limousine in ten minutes.”

“Taxi!” Chloe hissed.

The man rolled his eyes. “Excuse me, I misspoke. I meant to say, we need a
taxi
.” He said the word like it tasted nasty. Dropping the receiver on the base with a clang, he glared at the girl. “I regret the day your skinny little arse showed up at Morgause’s flat. There’s a new world order coming, girl, and I don’t intend to play your lackey once it does.”

Chloe shrugged. “Take it up with Morgause. I’m not the one who lost two hundred grand in Atlantic City.”

There was something so sensual and yet slightly ridiculous about the man with his extreme height and almost cartoonish hair, but Bel’s face now was a reminder that he was once a powerful god. I really knew nothing about the Messenger and her handler—in fact, I knew very little about anyone I’d met since I arrived in New Orleans—and past events had proven I wasn’t the best judge of people.

I’d grown up loved, popular, and maybe a bit spoiled if I was being honest. I trusted the Crone because I believed she was touched by my desire to be more than I was. Instead, she used me.

I wouldn’t let myself be used again.

Bel pouted the entire trip to Baron Samedi’s House of Voodoo. When he flounced out of the taxi, Chloe gave a sigh and paid the driver. I didn’t need to tell Ava to get out of the car. Chloe was right; Ava mimicked whatever we did.

I’d texted Michel a number of times on the way over, but got no response. The shutters were over the store windows, and when I tried the door, it was locked. Frustrated, I had to turn the knob to the left and then to the right three times before I could loosen my grip on it. Stepping away, I held my hands tight against my sides. “Michel implied that his aunt never leaves her apartment. She’s got to be up there.”

Smirking, Bel traced his finger around the base of the doorknob. There was a smell of burning wood, and then the knob fell into the store through the singed hole in the door. “You’re welcome,” he said, gesturing dramatically for me to enter. Hoping that no one on the street was watching, I propped the door open with my bag so the missing hardware wouldn’t be noticeable.

Bel shuddered dramatically as he pushed past me into the store. “Charming,” he drawled.

Chloe was staring at the painting of Baron Samedi with a frown on her face. “What?” I asked.

She shook her head and looked away. “Nothing.” I didn’t believe her, but the girl wouldn’t look me in the eye.

“C’mon, the stairs are this way.” They followed me up the narrow staircase, Ava trailing at the end, but at the top, I came to an abrupt stop. The door to Adelaide’s apartment was slightly open.

I couldn’t move. A complicated routine of turning the knob on the door back and forth in series of three might have broken the compulsion, but I wouldn’t touch the door.

Bel was waiting for me to enter first. “Maiden?” When I didn’t respond, he pushed past me and went inside. After only moments, he came back out again. “Turn around and go back down.”

I had to swallow three times before I could speak. “Why?”

His eyes sparked with an inner fire, glittering in the gloom. “You know why.”

I nearly skidded down the stairs and the howling in my ears had nothing to do with Voodoo magic this time. Back in the store, I slammed my hands hard against the glass of the front counter three times. Ava tapped the counter listlessly in response.

Chloe and Bel were staring, but agitation was still running through me like ants under my skin. Shoving my smarting palms into the pockets of my sweater, I found the little Voodoo doll. My hands seemed to have a mind of their own. Yanking strands of hair out of my head, I wrapped them three times around the doll’s neck. When I finished, some of the tension left my body and I felt like I could breathe freely again.

“Adelaide’s dead?”

Bel snorted. “It looked like somebody vomited a Jackson Pollack all over the place.”

“Bones?” Chloe asked.

He shrugged. “Not that I could see, but I wasn’t about to go wading through the muck to make sure.”

One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. My heart finally settled back to a normal rhythm. Taking a deep breath, I was about to ask what we should do next when I realized that both Chloe and Bel were now staring at the painting of Baron Samedi.

It’s funny how anger can burn away more complicated, less complete emotions. “For crying out loud, what is it? Why are you both staring at that thing?”

“Why?” Ava echoed blankly, but there was no real question behind her eyes—she was just parroting what she heard. Anger swelled in me. It was obscene that Ava’s bright and vibrant soul was trapped behind Michel’s spell.

Bel and Chloe shared a look. The man made a complicated gesture with his hands, and a ball of flame leapt from them to hover in front of the painting. The flickering light made the figure seem to breathe.

I saw it then—the thing that had caught the attention of my subconscious the first time. There were many versions of Baron Samedi in the candles, books, cards, and dolls throughout the store. None were like the painting on the wall though. I realized now that I recognized the face under the death’s mask, even though I’d seen it only once before in a scrying bowl when the Crone made a deal to deliver a dragon to Cernunnos, the horned god of the Celts, the Lord of Avalon, the wizard of Camelot—

Merlin.